#and when we moved to the maine house he loved hanging out in the back house w me cuz i let him have the big red chair

[prescienceofdawn]

.

[thetriumphantpanda]

be my Venus of the stars | general marcus acacius

Summary | He's been visiting you for months, fresh off the battlefield, to be cleaned and reborn, but this time, something is different, this time, he might finally touch you back.

Pairing | General Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Word Count | 2.8K

Warnings | Set in a bath-house, it is suggested that reader is a sex worker, The General™️ is dirty and needs a bath, as historically accurate as I could make it, use of Latin terms of endearment, explicit smut, handjob, fingering, oral sex (f), unprotected PiV, creampie, marking during sex, mention of ancient roman methods of.... not getting pregnant, no use of y/n, reader is a blank slate but does wear a dress.

Authors Note | Listen, I know we know literally nothing about this man, but what I do know is that he looks like a needs a bath and a nice lady to help him destress... so here we are. Leave it to the archaeologist to fall head over heels for the roman general, right? Whilst my ancient archaeological interest has always been Greece, you best believe this is right up my street. We won't talk about the amount of academic papers I read to make this as historically accurate as possible. I hope you love this, and if you do, please consider reblogging, commenting and screaming with me in my ask box!

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Divider by the ever wonderful @saradika

He’s weary, his body drooped from the weight of his armour, but you suspect there are other things that are weighing him down too.

He’s been gone a while, sent away to some far-fought battle, never knowing if the view of his back when he leaves will be the last you ever see of him or not.

As he always does, he drops a coin purse onto the table, sliding it across to the bathhouse owner, before he turns, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Always you, only you, he’s never paid attention to anyone else in this damned place and he never will. His face is covered in dust, dirt and grime, his clothes in no better shape - you know you have your work cut out for you, but you find that when it’s him, you don’t mind at all.

It’s a familiar dance, how he follows a few steps behind you, the clinking of armour filling the hallway as you lead him to the private bath. You do as you always do, and open the door, letting him move inside as you let the door click shut behind you.

The hour is late, candles the only source of light, the sounds from the street below filling the silence as you ready the water for him. Warmed already, you drop a few rose petals into the water and pick out the oil you know he likes. It strikes you then that he’s not undressing, something he normally does himself. Instead, he stands at the window, staring out into the darkness.

“It is ready, sir.” You speak softly, motioning your hand to the bath when he turns around.

“Come,” he all but whispers, “Help me.”

You step closer, following his lead as he starts to undo whatever straps keep his heavy armour in place, dropping his hands when he knows you’ve got the hang of it. You take it off, piece by piece, setting it gently on the ground until he’s just in the under layers he wears.

Night is falling, and the candles in the room and the orange light from outside bathe him in gold as he motions for you to do the rest. Your hands, trailing up his body, lifting the tunic he’s wearing under his armour, over his head. There’s a hiss of pain as he lifts his arm, then a sigh of relief his tunic is gone, and it’s at this moment, that you realise he hasn’t stopped looking at you.

This man, born and bred for the fight, with brown eyes softer than you’ve ever seen staring down at you as you undress him.

“You can touch me.” You offer.

You look at him, eyes through eyelashes, as his roam across your body, draped in cotton and pinned in just the right place to accentuate every inch of you - it was a gift from a wealthy customer many years ago, a traveller who had taken to you, promised to take you with him but left you with nothing but a nice dress.

He goes to reach out, but stops short of touching the material, “It is such a pretty dress,” he muses, stepping back from you to let the final garment he’s wearing drop to the floor, “I must bathe first.’

You aren’t shy in the way you look at him, you’ve seen him without clothes more times than you care to admit, you’ve touched him, made him sigh, made him cum more than once, but he’s never once reached out to you. But there’s something different tonight, something charged, and as he walks towards the bath, muscles in his back rippling as he does, you wonder if tonight might be the night you finally know what it is to be touched by him.

He lowers himself into the warm water, groaning as he settles his back against the metal, warm from the water and from the fire lit to keep it that way.

You do as always and kneel beside it, picking up the small bowl on the table next to you. You scoop some water into it and let it drain across his curls, his head tipped back because he knows this dance. Fingers run through his wet hair, freeing his locks from the weeks of dirt and sand and blood and fight, until the water runs clear.

Then, you move onto his body. It’s arguably your favourite part, letting your hands run across his skin. He rests his arms on the lip of the bath, a well-rehearsed dance now, and lets your pour the scented oil onto his skin. You massage it in, thumbs digging in where his armour has left marks, easing weeks of tension with firm presses. You use the strigel to scrape the oil and the dirt off until his skin is clean.

Only once you have used your hands to rinse him off do you consider moving lower. You always do, run oil soaked hands up and down his legs under the water, feel his muscles tighten when you drag them higher, which is how it always ends up with your firm hand wrapped around his cock. Your fingers dip below the water but his strong fingers grip at your wrist as they go to drift lower to his legs.

You let him guide your hand, your eyes meeting his own chocolate-brown orbs, which are blown wide and dark, as he shows you what he really wants. No preamble this time, as your fingers meet the skin of his semi-hard length.

“I haven’t finished.” You purr at him, letting your fingers close around him anyway.

“I find I don’t care,” He speaks back, tone low, “I have been gone for weeks, this is all I want.”

You watch as his head tips back and his body lowers into the water when you start the languid pumps of your hand up and down his cock, gripping tighter when you reach the tip, loosening when you move down. You’ve seen him for years, you know how he likes it, slow to start with, faster to bring him over the edge.

There’s something different this time though, of all the years he’s seen you, he’s never once touched you, only ever a tight grip on your arm as he comes, or a drag of his thumb across your cheek when he leaves. His grip tightens around your wrist enough to still your movements, then, he’s dragging your hand away. You wonder for a moment if you’ve done something wrong, until he shifts and stands.

You’ve seen him without his clothes enough times to know every dip of his body, ever mark and scar that he’s accumulated, but as he stands now, water dripping from his skin, cock hard and heavy in front of you, he looks nothing short of God-like. All the statues in all of Rome could never compare to this man in front of you.

Standing from your place on your knees, you watch as he steps from the bath, water pooling on the floor as he walks towards you. He lets a hand drape across your waist, palm flat against your back as he pulls your body to his own, wet skin against dry garments, head dipped so his mouth is a whisper away from your own.

“Tell me I can,” He asks, “I want to kiss you.”

You let your hands entwine at the back of his neck, wet curls locked between fingers, so you can drag him closer to you. When his lips finally meet yours, all the years of wondering what it was like prove worth it. They’re chapped, dry from whatever battlefield he’s been within, but it’s perfect, as they slant across yours and he pulls your body tighter to his own. He’s gentle, unlike other men, his tongue is tentative as it drags across your bottom lip, mouth opening against your own as his tongue melds with yours behind your teeth.

There is movement that you only register at the last moment, when the backs of your knees hit the bed in the corner of your room. You tumble down upon it, lying and watching as he watches you, fist tight around his own cock as you start to undrape your dress from your skin. His eyes rove across your body when you finally reveal yourself to him, spreading your legs for him, letting your hands cup your breasts.

“You do this for everyone?” He asks quietly, settling himself between your open legs, his cock resting against your mound.

“Maybe,” You respond, “But you’re the only person I want to do this for.”

“Do they treat you well?” He murmurs, laying his body across your own, the weight on him on top of you making your cunt pulse.

“Some do, some don’t.” You shrug, cupping his face with your hands.

“Any of them make you come?”

You shake your head against the bed, “They come here for their own pleasure, sir.”

“My pleasure is your pleasure,” He whispers against your ear, “Tell me, has anyone ever kissed you here?”

One of his hands drags down your body, his hips lifted enough to let his hand cover your cunt.

“N-no,” You choke, the heat of his hand stifling against you, “They h-haven’t.”

“Would you let me?”

You nod, words failing you, as he lets his mouth drag down the naked skin of your body until his broad shoulders are settled between your thighs, pushing them apart, spreading you obscenely wide for himself.

His mouth is hot as it kisses the skin of your pussy, soft feather-light touches to every inch of skin. His thumbs pull your folds apart, baring every intimate inch of you to him, and then it’s all ecstasy as that wonderful mouth clasps around the bundle of nerves that you know so intimately of yourself, but others seem to forget.

It makes you buck your hips into his mouth, pressing further into the feeling of absolute bliss as the tip of his tongue flicks fast and then slow across it in undeterminable patterns. One of his hands splays across your stomach to keep you still, as he switches from the tip of his tongue to the flat. You can hear the slurping from between your legs, can feel your slick leaking from your cunt at his ministrations, the moans he lets out when his tongue dips lower to taste you - he’s enjoying this just as much as you are, a man committed to making you feel good before anything else.

There a knots twisting in your stomach, a fire that you know only from your own hand spreading across your lower body, you’re close, and you think he knows it too.

He brings his mouth back to your clit, lips enveloping it whole as he sucks it into his mouth, rolling his tongue across it as you feel two of his fingers slip inside your wet cunt, curling upwards almost immediately.

“Gods,” you breathe out, letting fingers tangle in his quickly drying hair, “I’m- oh fuck - so close.”

He continues just as he is as your body starts to convulse. Your eyes clamped shut, sweat pooling in crevices you didn’t know you had, until his tongue flicks just right and you’re snapping, coming undone. Body arched into his mouth as your cunt clamps tight around his fingers, as pleasure bursts across every inch of your skin. His tongue doesn’t let up until you whimper quietly that it’s too much, chest heaving and vision blurry.

His body clambers atop yours once more, hot skin against hot skin, his lips at your neck as he fumbles between your bodies, hand guiding his heavy, hard cock to nudge at your leaking centre.

“Tell me it’s okay,” he breathes against your skin, “Tell me I can have you like this.”

You moan, hips moving upwards into his own, heavy arms wrapping around his neck, “I’ve wanted this for so long,” you whine, feeling the tip of his cock right where you want it, “Please,” you beg, “Please, put me out of my misery.”

One of his hands grips your chin, turns your face to his. He’s so close, his eyes burning with lust you’ve never seen before, his forehead pressed to yours.

“Look at me,” he begs, shaking your head a little when you close your eyes at the feeling of him starting to push inside, “I want to see you when I do this.”

So you do, eyes open and boring into his own as he slips his cock into you. He’s big, bigger than you think you’ve had before, your mouth drops open as he slowly feeds every inch of himself into your cunt, stilling and sucking in his breath when he can go no further.

“I have dreamt of this,” he speaks softly as he drags himself out of you, “Wondered what you would feel like,” then he pushes back in, all at once this time, “It is nothing like I imagined.”

His face is buried in the crook of your neck now, his hips pulling back only to push back in again, tip of his cock brushing against that spot inside you that makes you keen, fingernails digging into his arms as you hold on.

“Is it better, General?” You ask in his ear, “Am I all your dreams come true?”

He answers with a hard thrust of his cock, causing a shrill shriek from your throat as the tip bruises at the very depths of you.

“It is everything I wanted and more, carrisima.”

He pushes himself back from you, cock still buried deep, and gathers your legs, hooking them over his arms before he presses forward again, bending your body in a way you know will make you ache tomorrow.

His hips pull back, before the slam back into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, as he sets a pace that you’re not even sure the God’s could keep up with. The room filled with nothing but the sounds of his skin slapping against yours, the wet squelch of your cunt sucking him in on every thrust, and the hot pants and moans from the two of you.

You let your arms reach around, palms against the toned muscles of his ass. You squeeze and dig fingernails into skin on each bruising thrust, head thrown back to let him press forward enough to suck at your neck, teeth nipping and tongue soothing. No-one but him would get away with marking you.

“I’m close,” he manages to choke out, “Tell me I can fill you.”

You’ve waited too long to feel him like this to deny him. You would go to the healer in the morning for a cyreniac balm, but all you wanted right now was to feel him claim you, to make you his in every possible sense.

“Fill me, General,” you moan, “Let me feel you, please.”

It does take long, his hips faltering, stilling into your on one final thrust. He growls into the night air, his cock throbbing within you, the feeling of his seed painting your walls makes you hungry for more. He collapses on top of you, softening cock still deep inside you, as you wrap your arms around him, run comforting fingers through his hair as he recovers his breath.

Finally, he slips himself from your heat and rolls onto his back, dragging you with him to drape across his chest, one hand on your lower back, the other placed atop yours on his chest.

“I go back to war soon,” he speaks quietly, mouth pressed to your forehead, “I-“ he stutters for a moment, “I’m not sure I will make it back this time.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his jaw, “You are lucky, Sir,” you speak, “I think the Gods look upon you.”

“I feel a premonition,” he explains, “I couldn’t go back without knowing what it was to have you.”

You move the hand you have on his chest to entwine your fingers with his own, “You must come back, I cannot live without you now I know you like this.”

He smiles a little, shifts the two of you so you are both led on your sides looking at each other. His big palm traces down your side, resting at your hip.

“I will try, mea columba,” he whispers, kissing the tip of your nose, “But for now,” he rolls you gently to your back, fingers trailing back through your folds, slipping inside you, gathering his come and your slick on his fingers, dragging it up to circle your clit softly, “We must make the most of the time we have left together.”

[sturniqlo]

THE MOVE- MATT STURN

summary: y/n and matt, once former classmates, reunite when both of them move down the street from each other and become closer than ever

cw: cursing, mention of underage drinking(main characters are 18!) , SMUT; car sex, unprotected p in v, making out, hickies, oral!f!receiving, cream pie

an: thank you so much for 1000 followers??! HELLO?! i love every. single. one. of. you.💋💋

masterlist | join my taglist

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"I'm moving to Springville in the summer." Y/n tells her best friend. "What? Really?" Her best friend cries. "Yeah, my parents found a really good deal on a house over there. I'm leaving after graduation." She frowns, trying to not let the tears out. Her and Steph have been friends for over thirteen years.

"Hey, don't make me cry." Y/n tries to smile to lighten up the mood. "At least we have a couple of months left together." Springville was about two and a half away from where they currently live. "And- and we can drive back and forth to meet each other!" Y/n wipes her best friends' tears away.

"Okay, okay you're right! No crying! We still have a couple of months." Steph repeats Y/ns' words. "Let's go get milkshakes and fries." Y/n suggests, they love going to their local diner and getting their usual vanilla milkshake and a basket of fries. Ever since they turned eighteen, their parents granted them permission to drive alone and they've been driving everywhere together any chance they could.

"Good idea."

The next day at school, the word spread around their friend group and distant friends that Y/n would be moving in the summer. "Y/n, we're going to miss you!" "Y/n don't go!" "What? Are you serious?!" Were phrases she heard all day. At lunch, she stood up to go to the bathroom and she ran into one of her other friends.

"Hey, Y/n. I heard you're moving to Springville this summer. My friend Matt is also moving over there this summer. You know Matt, right? He's one of the triplets." The girl dried her hands on a paper towel. "Really? And yeah, I know of Matt. He's the one we have third period with?" Y/n makes sure she doesn't mix the triplets up. She's talked to Matt here and there, however she's 'closer' with Nick due to the fact that they have and have had a lot of periods together over the past four years. As for Chris, she's had at least five conversations with him. "Yeah! That's him! You two should hangout when you settle in!" Y/n nods. "Totally!"

When they get out the bathroom, they go their separate ways. Y/n texted her friend group that she wouldn't be returning to lunch due to having to head to the office for some paperwork. Which was a lie, she just wanted a break from socializing so she headed to the library.

It was now summer and it had been a couple of days since Y/n had graduated. Y/n and her parents were packing up their belongings into the moving trucks. "I'll miss you so much! Promise we'll try to hang out as much as we can?" Steph hugs her tightly now that they had finished moving Y/n's boxes into the truck. "I promise, I'll miss you so much too." She rocks them side to side. "Y/n, it's time to go." Her mom comes up, from saying goodbye to Steph's parents, and puts a hand on Y/n's shoulder.

"I'll try to come and visit you within the next few weeks okay?" Steph pulls away from the hug and Y/n nods. "Bye, Steph." "Bye, Y/n." Steph gives one last hug to Y/n before stepping to where her parents are standing. "We'll see you there, Mr.Y/l/n." One of the movers tells Y/n's dad before getting in the truck and backing out of the driveway.

"Y/n, honey, we're leaving in ten." Y/n and her parents have been in their new house for about seven hours now and they were going to head to dinner since they hadn't gone grocery shopping yet. "Coming!" She finishes putting her bedsheets on her bed. Once she finishes, she rummages through the many boxes of clothes and picks out a simple outfit. "I'm ready." She says, coming down the stairs. "You got some stuff done?" Her mom asks, looking through her purse.

Y/n had been working on her room for about an hour because she was helping her parents unpack the living room and kitchen. "A bit, just need to hang my clothes up and fix my vanity." Her dad comes into view. "Garage is all set, let's go eat dinner. I'm starving." He grabs the car keys from his pocket.

"Oh look, another family is moving in." Y/n's dad slows the car down as they drive past the house with many boxes outside. "Maybe we can welcome them." Her mom says from the front seat. "We look like some stalkers just stopped in front of the house." Y/n giggles.

The next week, Y/n had luckily made some friends while she was out shopping. When she had gotten home from hanging out with them for the first time, she got many new friend requests from unknown people. omg! do any of you guys know any of these people? lol Y/n sends a screenshot to the group chat of the thirty new requests. yes accept them!! we went to school with them, the boy group is hosting a party on saturday you HAVE to come with us!!! One of her new friends types back. really? i'm down!! She replies.

Once she accepts and follow the people back, many stories pop up on her feed. Clicking on someone named Easton, a picture of a table full of food pops up, the next one is a quick video and it pans to a group of boys, in the corner she spots Matt. Holding down on the video, she makes sure it's him and suddenly remembers that Matt also moved down to Springville.

"Should I dm him?" She whispers to herself. Going to her following, she searches Matt's name up and clicks on his profile. She goes to click message, but then decides to press the following button to unfollow him. Waiting a couple of seconds, she follows him again, hoping to get a dm from him. As much as she wanted to text him, she didn't want to make the first move.

Y/n turns off her phone and places it face down on her chest, looking up at her light bulbs. Soon, her eyes start to closes but she feels her phone buzz on her chest. She grabs her phone and sees a dm from Matt.

matt.sturniolo

hi y/n :))

y/n/y/l/n

hi matt!!

matt.sturniolo

i heard you moved down to springville a couple of weeks ago

y/n/y/l/n

yeahh i did

i also heard you did too

matt.sturniolo

yeah, i've been here for a couple of weeks now, we should hangout sometime

my friends are throwing a party on saturday i could pick you up if you want?

y/n/y/l/n

oh yeah, my friends told me about that party.

sure, it seven a good time?

matt.sturniolo

alright! send me your address

y/n/y/l/n

it's 123 Vine St

matt.sturniolo

no way?? you're down the street from me. i'm 129

y/n/y/l/n

really?? what a coincidence lmao

They eventually exchanged numbers and texted for the next hour or so. That night, Y/n fell asleep with a smile on her face. Both Y/n and Matt had never really talked throughout high school even though they had mutual friends.

Saturday came fairly quickly. Y/n had started working at a restaurant as a hostess and she had just came back from her shift. "Are you still going to that party?" Her mom says. "Yeah, remember Matt? He's one of the triplets." Her mom nods. "He's picking me up, I found out he lives in that one house we saw when we moved in."

Y/n was now getting ready, she was finishing her makeup up when she got a message from Matt.

matt

hi are you almost ready?

y/n

yeah, just finishing my makeup

i can walk to your house if you want me to

matt

no, it's fine i can pick you up

y/n

alright, thank you :))

Five minutes later, she heard a beep outside her house. "I'll be back later." She tells her mom before exiting the house. "Hi, Matt." She says as she gets in the passenger seat. "Hi, Y/n. You look nice." Y/n blushes. "Thanks, so do you." Now it's Matt's turn to blush. "Your brothers aren't coming?" Y/n asks as she doesn't see the two other guys. "They decided to stay in. They said they aren't ready for their first Springville party, whatever that means." They giggle.

"So, how do you feel about moving down here?" Matt spins the steering wheel to get out of their neighborhood. "It's okay, I miss my friends back home. Especially Steph, you know her?" Matt nods. "She's the one who has purple highlights, right?" Y/n hums. "Yeah that's her. How about you? You like it here?" Y/n asks. "I love it actually, I like how it's a smaller city. My brothers are having a hard time with it though."

Once Matt finds a parking spot. They hop out the car and make their way to the house that's blasting music. "Y/n! Hey!" They both turn around and see Y/n's friends making their way to them. "Hey girls!" The three girls smile at Y/n and then look at Matt who is standing next to her. "Who's this?"

"Oh, this is Matt, we went to high school together!" Matt does a small wave. "Awe, you drove two hours to come see Y/n, how sweet." One girl says. "O-oh I- uh I moved here the same time she did." He chuckles. "Hey, Matt!" They hear a distant voice from behind. Matt turns around and sees his friend calling him over. "I'll see you inside?" Y/n nods. "Yeah!" As Matt walks away, her friends gasp. "Y/n! You didn't tell us you had a boyfriend!" Her face turns red as they continue to walk again.

"Matt's not my boyfriend! We just started talking." She shrugs. "Oh, so you two are talking talking." One smirks. "What?! I don't know? Yes- no! We're not. Just- we're talking as friends." She states. "That's what they all say." Her friends then tell her how bad of a driver their uber was.

"Hey, sorry I haven't been with you." Matt touches her waist to make himself know to her. "It's fine." She turns around and smiles at him. "My friends wanted me to keep track of their beer pong score since I'm probably the only one sober here." He laughs. "That makes two of us." Y/n takes a drink of her water bottle. "Wanna go outside? It's a bit stuffy in here." Y/n nods and Matt grabs her hands and leads her outside.

On the way outside, her friends spot her and give her a thumbs up and she rolls her eyes jokingly. "Holy shit, it's so much better out here." Matt feels the fresh air hit him. "I agree." They both find an empty bench in the backyard and decide to sit there.

"I can't believe we've never hung out during high school." Matt says, looking at her. "I cant believe it either. You're actually really fun to be around and talk to." Y/n nods. "So I was boring in high school is what you're trying to say?" Matt raises an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. "No! Of course not!" She laughs. "I'm kidding, I thought you were pretty intimidating, though." He says. "Really? Why'd you think that?" He shrugs. "You always looked so serious, and you never really talked much."

What seemed like hours of talking, Y/n looked at the time and saw it was almost one in the morning. "You ready to go?" Matt asks. "I think so, you?" He nods. "Come on let's go." Matt stands up and holds his hand out for her. "You don't wanna say bye to your friends?" Matt says and she shakes her head. "They left quickly, one of my friends snuck out her house and she got caught so they left."

"Are you hungry? We can go eat somewhere or do you have to be home?" Y/n shakes her head as Matt leaves the parking spot. "We can go eat somewhere."

Matt gets onto the main street and takes Y/n to a 24/7 diner. "Have you been here before?" He asks as he pulls into the parking lot. "Mm-mm," She shakes her head before speaking again. "I've driven by here, but I've never eaten here." Matt parks and turns off the car. "It's really good, probably one of my favorite places here." Before he gets out the car Y/n asks him a question. "Hey, Matt. Do you happen to have a sweater or something? I don't want to go in wearing this." She motions down to her see through shirt.

"I think I do." He closes the driver door and opens the back door, Y/n gets out the passenger door and meets Matt where he's at. "Here you go." He hands her a plain black hoodie. "Thanks." She grabs it from him and puts it on. "Let's go." He nods his head towards the diner.

"Hi, welcome to Rubys." The hostess greets them, a nice middle aged lady. "Hello, for two, please." Matt speaks next to Y/n. "Of course," She grabs two menus. "Right this way." She signals them to follow her. "Thank you." Y/n says as they sit down and the lady lets them know she'll be back to take their orders. "Are you hungry hungry or hungry?" Y/n giggles and opens up the menu. "I'm hungry. We can share a meal if you want." He smiles at her.

"Chicken tenders and fries?" Y/n raises an eyebrow, smiling. "Sounds good!" When the waitress comes back, they order their shared meal, and order their own milkshakes. "And- sorry, I'm getting a call." Matt is interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. "What Chris?" He says impatiently, wanting to go back and talk to Y/n. "Where are you?" Chris says. "I'm at Rubys with Y/n." He replies. "Ouu, a date." Matt scoffs at Chris' teasing. "No, stop it." He mutters. "Can you bring me and Nick some food? We'll pay you." Chris asks. "Alright, I have to go, bye." Matt hangs up, already knowing their order. "Sorry, they wanted some food." He laughs. "It's fine." She giggles.

Matt was now dropping off Y/n, parked in front of her fence. "Thank you for tonight, Matt. I had fun." She says, grabbing her purse. "Me too, I'll see you around?" Y/n nods. "Oh! Here, your sweater." As she goes to take it off Matt stops her. "It's okay, you can keep it." He smiles. "You sure?" She says. "Of course."

"Thanks." She leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek. "See you around."

It was a week after the party, and both Matt and Y/n have been texting every hour of everyday ever since that night. "So are you two talking or what?" Nick asks his brother. "I guess you could put it that way." He tries his hardest not to blush. "Look at him! He's blushing!" Chris teases, pointing at Matt. "Leave him alone!"

Nighttime came around and Matt was antsy to see her. do you wanna go driving? He types and sends it to her. just me n you. He adds on. i would love to. Matt smile at her text before replying back. pick you up in three ;)

Matt throws on a hoodie and grabs his keys, heading out of his room. "Where are you going at," Nick says from the couch in the living room, looking at his phone. "ten fifty two pm?" He adds. "I'm going on a drive with Y/n."

I'm here. Matt sends Y/n a message instead of beeping, knowing half of the block is probably in bed by now. Going! She quickly replies back. Matt looks at Y/ns' house and sees the front porch light turn on and then the front door opening seconds later with Y/n coming out.

Y/n quickly makes her way to his car. "Hi, Matt." Y/n leans over the center console and kisses his cheek. "Hi, Y/n." He kisses her cheek quickly after. "Wanna go to the convenience store and get some snacks?" He asks, looking over at her before looking back at the road. "Yeah, I could go for some chips right now." She agrees.

After their quick trip to the store Matt finds an empty parking lot and parks the car. As they finished their snack, they washed it down with their drinks. "I-" "So," They say at the same time and they giggle. "You can go." Y/n says. "I- I wanted to tell you that I'm really enjoying our time together." Y/n's mouth opens a bit in shock. "Oh, Matt, I-" Matt can't really read her expression. "Shit! I'm sorry did I ruin it? Fuck, I should've never-" He gets cut off by Y/n smashing her lips against his.

It takes Matt a few seconds to realize what's happening before he moves his lips against hers. The kiss gets heated by the second and before they know it, Y/n is on his lap. Unfortunately, they get interrupted by Y/n's ass pressing up against the horn startling them. "Oh shit!" They say in unison and laugh with their foreheads pressed against one anothers.

Matt rubs his hands over her waist. "Wanna meet me in the back seat?" He presses a wet kiss over her jaw, sucking lightly. "I thought you'd never ask." She leans down and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. She gets off of his lap and crawls into the back seat. Matt steps out the car and opens the back seat dooor climbing in and immediately grabbing Y/n by her waist and pulling her to his lap and kissing her all over again.

"I've been wanting to do this ever since the party." He says in between breathes. "Really?" She smiles against his lips. "Mhm, looked so fucking sexy in your little outfit." He squeezes her ass. Y/n rocks her hips against his, feeling his bulge against her thin shorts that are riding up her thighs.

After minutes of rocking against each other, Matt lays Y/n against the seat and hovers over her, kissing over her neck. "Can I take this off, baby?" He tugs at the end of her oversized tee. "Please." She whines. Matt brings her shirt up and Y/n lifts up a bit so he can remove it. The chilly air makes her nipples harden and Matt groans.

"No bra?" He goes to suck on her nipple, kneading her tit in his other hand. "Fuck, Matt." She gasps, arching her back. "You like that, babe?" He hums, nibbling on the bud. "Yes, fucking love it." She kneads her hand through his hair. Matt pulls away for a second and Y/n could almost whine from the loss of contact. He pulls his hoodie off and throws it in the front seat with Y/n's shirt.

"Can I take these off as well?" Matt's hand comes down to the waistband of her skimpy shorts. "Yes, yes, take them off." She nods, lifting her hips and Matt pulls them down her legs and is met with her white cotton thong. Matt gives her a look and Y/n nods. He hooks a finger through her thong and removes them swiftly. Matt looks down and sees her cunt glistening. "So wet already." He growls at the sight before diving down getting a taste of her.

"Oh, Matt." She sighs in pleasure as he sucks on her clit, slurping her juices. The sounds coming from her are going straight to his cock. "Fuck- get- get up here." Y/n pulls Matt up to her and kisses him harshly. "Please, Matt." She whines against his lips. "What do you want, baby. Hm, I don't know what you want unless you tell me." He kisses down her jaw, to her neck, sucking on the soft skin there leaving red and purple marks. "I want you to fuck me, Matt." She runs her hands down his front and stops when she reaches the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Yeah, want me to stuff you with my cock?" He lowers his sweatpants, along with his boxers, his dick springs up slapping against his lower belly. "Yes, want to be full of your cock." She reaches for his erection and holds him in her hands. Slowing moving her hands up and down. "Fuck, baby." He rolls his hips against her hold. "Wait, wanna cum in you." He stops and brings his dick over her pussy, running the tip up and down, gathering her arousal.

"Ready?" He asks, looking down at her. "Yes, give it to me, Matt." Matt brings his tip to her leaking hole and slowly pushes in. "Oh- fuck!" He groans, feeling the tightness of her pussy wrap around him. "Matt, you feel so good." She moans, feeling him balls deep in her. "Shit! You like being stuffed with my cock don't you, baby." He starts to thrust his hips in and out of her. "Just like that, shit!" Y/n brings her hands up her body and squeezes her tit adding on to the pleasure.

"Holy fuck- keep squeezing me like that." Matt brings two of his fingers to her mouth and makes her suck on them, getting them wet, before taking them out and bringing those fingers down to rub her clit. "Mmph, so so good." She whines scratching her nails down his back. "I'm close, can I cum in you, baby. Cum in this tight little pussy?" He kisses her neck over the marks. "Yes, cum in me. I'm so fucking close." She cries as Matt hits that one spot deep in her.

A couple more thrust in her, Matt stills his movements and cums in her. "I'm cumming, shit baby." He burries his face in her warm neck. "Me too, fuck!" Y/n says heavily, running a hand through Matt's hair at the nape of his neck. "That was- that was amazing." Matt laughs in her neck. "I agree." She giggles.

"Let me clean you up." He untucks his face from her neck and places a kiss on her lips before getting up and slowly pulls his dick out. "Fuck." Matt says lowly as he sees a mix of her and his cum dripping out her hole. Matt spots one of his shirts from the other day draped over the backseat headrest and uses that to clean her up. "Oh!" She hisses. "Sorry, baby." He whispers.

"All done." He throws the shirt on the floor and leans over to get her discarded clothes. "Here you go." He hands them to her. "Thank you." Matt pulls his boxers and sweatpants and grabs his hoodie. "I should take you home then?" Matt grabs her and pulls her onto his lap. "Mhm." She hums before kissing him.

"Get in the front seat."

[cherriesformatt]

eyes || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: matt is making a tiktok with reader when she is with the animals from the petting zoo video

warnings: fluff

word count: 692

a/n: I know its been months but I thought about it and I mix some new content with the request. Hope thats okay. have a good week besties 🍒

based on this request

I was so excited that Matt let me hang out with the animals after they finished filming the video. Chris and Matt surprised Nick with petting zoo in the living room and I was on another planet when I found out. The lady brought the animals as we helped her and I was so happy that I didn't even care if I was on the video or not. For the main part of it I went and hang out upstairs because I still rather not want to be the main attraction of it. When I was reading my book I was just waiting for the text from Matt that I could come back down because they finished filming. And when I got it I almost jumped out of bed. I was mostly excited to hang out with the goat and the little hedgehog.

"What did you think?" I asked Nick with a big grin as I kneeled to pet the goat.

"I am never leaving the house again" Nick answered me and I laughed.

"They all are the cutest" I said in the baby voice as I walk to Chris.

"May I hold him now?" I asked him for a turn with the hedgehog.

"Of course" Chris nodded and carefully handed me the animal.

I held him and talked to him as my eyed were focused on the animal all the time. I was tickling his belly as I was smiling and talking to it as I would talk to the baby. I wasn't aware of Matt filming me.

After we said goodbye to all the animals and cleans the house as we could I helped Matt cleaning his room a bit.

"We need to hire people to professionally clean the hose because I swear I still smell the barn" He said as he came back to his room in only a towel. We took turns in taking a shower after we were done with the animals.

"Yes, I usually would say you're being dramatic but now I actually smell it too" I said putting clothes back to his closet.

"Thank you, you shouldn't do that I would clean it myself" Matt said while putting clean underwear on.

"Well I didn't have space on the bed so I had to do something" I laughed and handed him pair of pajama pants.

He laughed while he took them from me. After he put them on he wrapped his arms around me and kissed my temple.

"You're the best...Sorry it was such a mess here buy I just had to throw everything from the living room" He said as he tugged string of my hair behind my ear.

"It's fine I do not care" I said looking up at him.

"Oh I know you do" He smirked.

"You right...."I said and he leaned down and gave me a sweet kiss.

He knew I had a bit of a thing if it comes to having a clean space.

"Wanna watch something?" He asked as he moved away and he went to put a shirt on.

I nodded and climbed in bed. I found the remote and put on the tv.

"I will grab some snacks and water" He said and left the room.

As I was waiting for him to come back I checked my phone. I had so many TikTok notifications. I was bit surprised when I checked and saw that Matt tagged me in a video.

It was him looking at something with a big smile and then camera switched and there was I with the animals. It was a very cute video I smiled and licked it and commended with a heart. People were being very nice in the comments so I did answered some comments and when he came back I smiled at him.

"You posted me on TikTok" I said.

"I did...Sorry I did not asked you, is that okay?" He climbed next to me.

"It's fine I like it... love you Matt" I said and kissed his cheek.

"Love you too y/n" he smiled putting a blanked on us.

Could not imagine this day to be more perfect.

[joelscruff]

one of your girls (frankie morales x triple frontier boys) 18+

a/n it's @swiftiscruff friendship exchange time!!! i'm so beyond excited to share this piece i've been working on, dedicated to my incredible friend han @swiftispunk 🌙 we brainstormed the idea for this fic months ago and it's finally somehow become something tangible - but han, if i've learned anything from writing this fic, it's how much i depend on you when it comes to so many aspects of my writing. whether it be workshopping ideas, input on characterization & dialogue, sharing snippets, etc, you are always there to lend a hand, listen, and advise. not having that this time around (because this fic has been a secret ofc!) just further proved to me what an incredibly patient, giving, caring, kind, & beautiful friend you are. i love you so much & i'm so grateful you slid in my dms one whole year ago today 💕 summary: unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk 🙌) rating: 18+ explicit warnings: circle jerk (frankie/benny/santiago/will), sub!frankie, bukkake, facials, cumplay, cum swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), praise kink galore, pet names (good boy, baby boy), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cock worship, use of restraints, sexy photographs, sharing, mentions of frankie x all the boys individually (this includes tom but he's not involved in the circle jerk - sorry tom), brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf but it's not really the main focus...for now anyway, all of this takes place before the events of triple frontier word count: 12.2k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 💙

You've been moving boxes for what feels like forever, arms aching and the sun beating hot against the back of your neck as you swipe sweat from your brow and head back into the aging, disintegrating storage unit. When Frankie had first told you about it you'd been adamant that he move his old things - locked away for almost ten years now - out of the unit and into the new house. "We don't need to be paying for storage when we have a garage", you'd said confidently, "we have a house now, Frankie. What's yours is mine."

If only you'd believed him when he'd told you it wouldn't be that easy.

"I told y-" he begins for the fourth time as you lean down to grab another box, but you snap up immediately with a finger to your lips. "Why don't I just do the rest from here?" He offers fruitlessly, "You take a break, relax in the truck for a little while."

You're already shaking your head before he's finished talking, resuming your retrieval of the large box at your feet, "No, Frankie. We do this together."

You don't have to look at him to know that he's rolling his eyes. All the same, you hear him clamoring after you with another box as he follows you from the unit and back to the truck. The sun hangs high overhead and you squint uncomfortably against it, piling the box alongside the others in the truck bed. Frankie does the same.

"I mean, what's even in all of these?" you ask exasperatedly, shoving one of the many boxes with your hand and leaning backwards against the truck, "How did you accumulate this much shit in the military? I thought minimalism was all the rage over there."

"I told you, it's not just mine," he reaches forward to brush some sweaty tendrils of hair out of your eyes, "It's the whole team's shit. Well, mostly Ben and Pope's, the others were uh-" he winches, "a little more organized, I guess."

"You guess?" you push up on your hands and seat yourself precariously on the edge of the truck bed, catching your breath. Frankie watches as you tear open the nearest box, biting down on his lip to stifle a laugh when he sees your eyes widen at what's inside.

"Paperwork?" you breathe, mouth agape, "Paperwork? That's what in all these? Fucking forms?"

"Something they don't tell you when you first join," he shrugs, "But no, that's not all that's in these. There's souvenirs, journals, photos, mission plans-" he cuts himself off and stops speaking altogether, lips clamping shut. Your brow furrows as you watch him assess the open box beside you, then the others strewn haphazardly here and there inside the truck bed, as if he's only just realized something he hadn't considered before.

"What?"

He seems to shake himself from whatever stopped him, eyes still settled on the open box as he murmurs, "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You raise an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Just, uh... don't."

"Well that's not ominous in the slightest."

He laughs but something about it seems off, almost forced as he reaches forward with both hands to help you down from the truck. You follow his lead, peering up at him curiously and hoping maybe he'll elaborate, explain, but instead he turns on the spot and heads back toward the storage unit, pulling you along in tow.

You decide not to press him about it for the time being. Right now, all you can think about is finishing hauling these ridiculous boxes and devouring an iced coffee on the way home.

A week passes before you even think about the boxes again.

By that time they've been taking up residence in the garage, haphazardly placed along the concrete in unorganized disarray, exactly where you'd both left them the day you unloaded the unit. You'd been too exhausted to start unpacking and had instead collapsed on the couch, laying there with aching limbs as Frankie discarded your empty iced coffee and poured you a tall glass of water.

"Your job is done now, querida," he'd murmured softly, stroking your cheek, "I'll do the rest."

Except he hadn't. He'd pulled your feet into his lap and settled comfortably beside you on the couch, just for a moment - and then it was lights out for the both of you, boxes be damned.

Now you find yourself the following Saturday perched precariously atop your counter, fingers smeared a soft fern green as you paint the walls of your new kitchen. You only moved into this house a month ago - your first real house together; shared, owned, all that jazz. Most of that time has already been entirely dedicated to making it your own space; unpacking, decorating, furnishing, rearranging - you've been more than busy with curating this new step in both your lives.

Which is why it's not surprising that you forget about the storage unit boxes and their scatteredness in the garage, too distracted by your current ongoing tasks. You hum along to the radio as you carefully attend to the smallest crevices and spaces between the cupboards, above the stove, under the window sill. You need it to be perfect, have gone far too long living in a less than adequate apartment without much creative freedom for this house to suffer the same fate.

Of course, just as you acknowledge the desire for perfection, your hand slips. A splash of green suddenly paints the pure white window sill and your heart sinks.

"Frankie!" you call out with a groan, reaching forward to wipe the mess away and only making it worse, "Where's the white paint?"

"Should be in the garage, I think," you hear him call back from the living room, busy with his own task of painting the walls a deep maroon, "Need me to get it for you?"

"No, I got it," you slide off the counter, careful to avoid the can of green paint at your feet as you make your way to the garage. It's only when you pass the threshold off the laundry room that you finally remember the forgotten boxes, faced with them for the first time since you dropped them off.

"Dammit, Francisco," you mutter, "You said you'd take care of it."

You can't really blame him though. It really is an undertaking; you'd known that from the moment he told you about the unit to begin with. He'd wanted to keep them there, would rather continue paying the monthly fee than deal with the enormous amount of unpacking he'd have to do, but you'd pushed. Now, as you grimace at the pile of heavy boxes, you wonder if maybe he'd been right.

For now, you turn your attention to the task at hand - finding white paint. You scan the storage shelves along the walls and spot the can you're looking for on a high shelf, out of reach.

Maybe those boxes can serve a purpose today.

You shove one toward the shelf and heave another one on top, making quick work of it despite the effort. Climbing onto your makeshift stepladder, you reach for the white paint and successfully pull it to your chest, but the added weight causes your feet to dig into the box below, exposing its contents as you carefully pull yourself back down. Your eyes can't help but dart to the crushed opening, spotting what looks like a photo album peeking through.

Setting the paint down, you lower yourself onto the concrete and cross your legs, biting your lip and reaching inside the box to grab the album. It's navy blue, relatively small, lightweight. A little skim couldn't hurt.

As soon as you open the photo album you can't help but smile, met immediately with a photo of Frankie and Santiago with their arms around each other - fifteen years younger. Their eyes are alight with excitement, Frankie's cap askew and Santi's expression caught in a permanent laugh. Before, you think to yourself, this was before shit got real. You flip the page and smile wider when you see a photo of Benny and Will, caught in what must be a playful brawl with Benny's hand grabbing at Will's leg as he tries to get away. Will is grinning from ear to ear, a genuine smile you've only seen a handful of times. Yep, definitely before.

You flip through the rest of the photos with a heaviness in your heart you can't describe. You've known these boys for a handful of years, have only heard fragments of the shit they've been through together, but you know it wasn't easy, know it affected them in ways you'll never even begin to understand. Being able to see them before all that, before they became hardened and molded by pain and trauma, you can't deny the emotions that bubble in your throat.

The last page contains a group photo; Frankie is in the center, surrounded by his friends on all sides, Will and Benny turned towards him with a fond smile and a grin, Santiago with an arm around him again and his head tilted to brush against Frankie's cap, and Tom on the edge - looking a little out of place, you must admit. But then, you suppose, things haven't really changed.

You're about to close the album and return to your painting when you notice a little pocket built into the backing, hidden out of sight with a hint of white poking through. Not wanting to miss out on another good photo, you slip your finger inside and happily tug out what looks to be a polaroid, different than the others. Curiously, you flip it over.

And immediately drop it to the floor.

Suddenly you can hear Frankie's words from last week, thrumming in your mind on repeat: "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You hadn't understood. But now you think you do.

With slightly shaky fingers you reach down and pick up the polaroid, taking a breath before slowly flipping it over again. Lips parted, eyes wide, heart pounding, you peer down at the little photograph and try to understand what you're seeing.

A much younger Frankie - naked, save for the cap on his head and the pants around his ankles. On his knees, peering up at the camera with hooded eyes and a fucked-out expression you've become more than familiar with at this point in your relationship. But that's not what made you drop the photo, no.

His face is covered in cum. You know that's what it is, know there's nothing else it could possibly be. Thick trails of it paint his face like abstract art, dripping down his forehead and the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his chin. It's all over him, smeared along his neck and chest bloomed red with heat and arousal. His cap is askew, cheeks flushed, and - most notable of all - he's smiling. Looking up at the camera, drenched in cum, smiling.

Frankie is bisexual; you've known this since your first date, remember how shy he'd been as he'd softly murmured, "Just so you know, I like girls and guys." It hadn't bothered you at all to know that he'd been with men in the past - in fact, you'd kind of liked that about him.

So this - this doesn't bother you. You're not bothered. You're... you don't know what you are, can't seem to pinpoint exactly how you're feeling right now as peer down at the polaroid that you were probably never supposed to find. You're not bothered, you're just... surprised. And confused. What is this doing here? Why is it hidden in an album of Frankie and his friends?

....Oh.

"Find it?" you suddenly hear Frankie call from the living room, and your stomach drops. You hastily stand and slip the polaroid into your back pocket, then close the album and toss it back into the box.

"Y-yeah," you call back, "I got it!"

You try not to mention it. Try, being the operative word.

But it's all you can think about. It's all you see when you reunite with Frankie in the kitchen later that afternoon, staring at the flecks of maroon paint scattered across his face and being unable to not see smears of splattered white. It's all you see that evening as you dig into your leftover Chinese food, eyes constantly flickering across the table to watch Frankie bite and chew, lips soft and wet and definitely not leaking cum at the corners.

It's all you see that night when you settle in bed and watch as he comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, water dripping down his neck and chest not unlike the thick drops of release in the photo. You watch with hooded eyes, lips parted, heart thrumming, as he tugs the towel off and walks to the dresser with his pert ass on full display. You can't help but wonder if there'd been cum there too, leaking and dripping, hidden away because of the angle of the photo.

"I can feel you staring at me," he suddenly says with a chuckle, "Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer." He says it in jest but you feel your face bloom with heat, immediately averting your eyes and burying yourself beneath the sheets.

"I was not," you lie, "Get over yourself."

He laughs again and you hear him shut the dresser, probably tugging on a pair of briefs, "You've been looking at me weird all day, it's kind of freaking me out."

You want to point out that "all day" is an exaggeration, but then you'd have to admit that you have been looking at him strangely for at least a portion of it, and you really don't want to do that. Instead, you reach over and turn off the lamp on your bedside table, then nuzzle into your pillow and close your eyes, ignoring him.

"Is something wrong, baby?" you hear him ask, humor slowly dissipating from his voice, "You need to talk about anything?"

"No," you lie, your own voice betraying you immediately, "I'm fine."

You feel the bed dip beside you, feel the warmth of his palm come down to gently caress your upper arm, "You sure? Did I do something to upset you?" You can practically hear him wince as soon as he says the words, "I know, I should already know if I did. But today's been busy and-"

"You didn't do anything, Frankie," you tell him softly, "I promise."

"Then what is it?" you can hear the concern, the gentle worry as he strokes your arm up and down, "Talk to me." He sounds so kind, so tender, as always. It's so damn hard to keep anything from him. You sigh.

"I feel..." you grimace, eyes still closed, "I just feel..."

He waits for you to continue, in the meantime settling into bed beside you and tugging the sheets up over himself. You feel his warmth against your body and it immediately fills you with a sense of calm, comfort. Your heart slows a bit, breaths coming a little easier as he brings his arm down to wrap around you and pull you in close.

"How do you feel, querida?" he murmurs, "Tell me."

"Guilty," you finally breathe, and you're surprised to feel tears pricking in your eyes, "I feel guilty."

You can hear the confusion in his voice, "For what?"

"I...I saw something I shouldn't have," you admit quietly, "In one of your boxes. Something really private that you probably never ever wanted me to see and I'm so sorry." You feel his arm freeze at your side and you take a shaky breath, "And now I can't stop thinking about it even though it's absolutely none of my damn business. And I wanna ask you about it but I really have no right to, not when I wasn't even supposed to know about it in the first place, and-"

"Mierda," he groans - shit.

"I'm so sorry, Frankie" you whisper pathetically, still facing away from him, "It's all my fault and if you need me to just forget about it, I will. I promise that I will."

"Fuck," he murmurs, "No no, baby, it's not your fault, it's mine. I should have unpacked all of it myself. I knew there was shit in there you might not wanna see."

"Y-you're not mad at me?"

He buries his face in your hair, nose nuzzling against your neck, "Of course I'm not mad at you - could never be mad at you for that. What's mine is yours, remember?"

You pull away to turn and face him, expression pensive. He's looking at you with earnest eyes, no anger or betrayal to be seen, and it almost makes it worse. Because does he know? Does he realize what exactly it is that you found?

"You have um..." you bite your lip, "You have pictures, in a photo album."

He stares at you, brow furrowing. "What?"

Fuck.

"There was... there was a photo album in one of the boxes. And I figured I'd just flip through it, just to have a look at you when you were younger, you know? Thought it'd be nice, that there might be something we could frame for the house."

He's looking at you like you're speaking another language, confusion lining his features, "....So?"

"So... so I found..." you wince, the image flashing behind your lids again as you try to figure out how to word it, "I found a picture that I don't think you would have wanted me to see."

He's still staring at you, the cogs turning in his head but seemingly no closer to an answer. You picture him flipping through an invisible rolodex, trying to pinpoint exactly what picture you could be talking about. You're starting to realize that maybe when he'd told you to stop looking in the boxes he'd been talking about something else.

"Honestly baby, I thought you meant you looked at some of my paperwork," he admits. Bingo. "Saw some stuff we did for a mission or something. There's plans in those boxes, strategy stuff, and you know how intense some of those were, some of the..." he takes a beat, biting his lip, "some of the things we had to do."

You shake your head quickly, "It wasn't anything like that. It wasn't...it wasn't something serious, really. It was..." you take a deep breath, still unable to say the words. Instead, you reach over into your nightstand and grab the polaroid, sitting up in bed and waiting for him to join you.

"What is it?" he asks, gentle and kind as he sits up beside you, "You can tell me, baby. We can talk about it."

Your heart races but you figure there's no going back from it now, and you're not sure you'd want to keep it from him anyway. Up until this point you and Frankie have always made communication an important part of your relationship. It's been necessary considering what he's been through, what he still deals with, and it's something that you're proud of. You're just gonna have to grin and bear it.

With a sigh, you shakily hand him the polaroid.

He flips it.

And drops it.

"Oh," he gasps, hand coming up to cover his mouth, "Oh, fuck."

"It's not- I'm not-" you stutter, fumbling over your words, "It's not a big deal, really. Like, it's whatever. I know you're bi, I know you've probably sucked your fair share of dicks-"

"Oh god," Frankie moans, his hands coming up to cover his eyes, "Oh my god."

"Hey, hey, no," you reach up and try to pull his hands away from his face, desperation in your voice, "Do not hide from me, you did nothing wrong. You hear me? There's nothing wrong with this." He groans again, shaking his head, but you just keep on talking, "I'm not mad about it or anything, it'd be pretty fucked up for me to mad about it actually. I'm just- hey," you continue to pry at his fingers, "Francisco, look at me."

Slowly, hesitantly, he finally removes his hands from his eyes to peer at you. You can see the embarrassment there, the humiliation - and not the good kind, not the kind he likes.

"Hey," you whisper, "You don't have to talk about this. We can pretend I never even saw it if that's what you want," you bring his hands down and hold them tightly, squeeze them in your own, "I just... I just wanted you to know that I saw it. And that I was just a little curious about why it was in an album from your military days. That's it. That's all."

His eyes fall back to the flipped polaroid on the bed, the back of it facing the both of you. You watch as he slowly reaches forward to pick it up again with his index and middle finger, pulls it upwards and turns it around to see it again.

Out of respect for him, you don't look at it. You just watch his face, his expression. He looks.... thoughtful.

"Talk to me," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please."

He looks from the polaroid to you, then back to the polaroid. After taking a steadying breath, he places it back down onto the bed between the two of you, face up. Your eyes spot his cum-covered face again, frozen forever in time, and you quickly avert your gaze.

He notices, and gives you a small half smile. You return it tenfold.

"Well, it.." he starts, taking another breath, "It was just something that.. we just started-" he cuts himself off, smile turning to a frown as he formulates his words. "It started..."

"Hey," you breathe, reaching down to squeeze his hands again, "Take your time."

It started as a way to blow off steam - that's it. Simple, easy.

They'd all gotten to know one another during training, spent time shooting the shit and building friendships with each other. There had been such a sense of belonging, of fortified brotherhood, a pull toward one another that none of them could deny. So it was unsurprising when their teamwork and comradery resulted in their placement into a special task force, just the five of them against the world - or, rather, the enemy.

But it was stressful. Going from basic military training to special ops added a new layer of pressure and competence that they hadn't experienced before, and it was no walk in the park. Things got harder, more pressing, more important. And all they had, like always, was each other.

So it made sense one night, for Frankie anyway, to offer Santiago a blowjob.

He'd heard the stiff grunts from the bed beside him, the dry - too dry - slap of skin as Santi worked at himself beneath the thin sheet of his bunk. It wasn't abnormal for Frankie to overhear one of his buddies masturbating; in fact it would have been abnormal to not hear it. He'd gotten used to the different sounds they'd each make as they gripped their cocks, hidden away in the dark, and pumped themselves to completion. He had memorized the sounds of their breathing, the grunts and the whines, the soft moans of their orgasms.

But it was never something that was discussed. It was an unspoken rule, almost: what happens in the bunks stays in the bunks. So Frankie had never even considered crossing that line, especially because he was pretty sure he was the only one in the group who liked dudes - something everyone was only vaguely aware of.

There was something about the desperation in Santi's movements that night, in the sweat on his brow and the pained expression on his face. He'd gotten reprimanded earlier that day for failing a training mission, been yelled at by two commanding officers while the rest of the boys looked on with regret in their hearts. If one of them failed, they all felt as if they'd failed too. Santi hadn't spoken to anyone for the rest of the day, had eaten in silence and then retired to his bunk much too early. And now, hours later here he was, hand around his cock, trying to forget.

And Frankie wanted to help.

"Pope," he'd whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Santiago to hear. Santi had turned his head slightly, eyebrows raising when he realized he'd been caught in the act. He'd been about to say something, defend himself maybe, but Frankie had shook his head and continued, "Need some help?"

A look of confusion. "Help?"

Frankie's eyes had wandered to the shape of Santi's lower half beneath the sheet, then back up to meet his gaze.

"Yeah," he'd murmured earnestly, "Help."

Santi had stared at him for a few seconds, brow furrowed, chest heaving. His hand was frozen under the sheet, gripping firmly to his hard cock as he'd considered Frankie's offer. Someone else might have hurled hurtful words, another might have ignored him completely.

But Santi took a deep breath and leaned back, closed his eyes and breathed, "Go ahead."

Frankie had been under the sheet in minutes.

Tucked away, hidden in case any of the other guys woke up, Frankie sucked slowly on his friend's cock. He wasn't sure how much Santi wanted to see of him, figured maybe he'd have his eyes closed as he pictured someone else, maybe that girl he liked from back home, but it didn't matter to Frankie - what mattered most was helping his friend forget about the shitty day he'd had. He treated Santi's cock like something to be worshipped, swallowing and licking around the big shape of him, warm and thick in his mouth. And when Santi came, it was only moments after Frankie had started.

His hands came down to grip Frankie's curls, tugging and pulling as he'd groaned and spilled down his friend's throat. And Frankie had swallowed every drop.

"Francisco," Santi had murmured when Frankie pulled off his cock with a pop, a drop of cum leaking from the corner of his mouth as he peered up at Santi from beneath the sheet, "You've been holding out on me."

With a smile, Frankie had licked the cum away and placed a gentle, reverent kiss to the wet head of Santi's cock. Santi had watched with hooded eyes, let Frankie kiss him there a few more times, let him trail his nose along his thick shaft and inhale deeply at the base. Hands still carding through his hair, Santi had let him mouth at his cock for a few more minutes before softly telling him he should get back in his bunk.

"Just trying to savor it," Frankie had whispered, voice a little sad, a little broken.

"You'll do it again," Santi had replied, reveling in the way Frankie's eyes widened, a smile lighting up his face.

And he did do it again - the following night. He'd been a little hesitant, unsure if Santiago had really meant what he said. But after the others had fallen asleep and Frankie was still just lying there, waiting, he'd heard a soft pssst sound. He'd looked over to see Santi sitting up in bed with a smirk on his face and one hand already beneath the sheet, tugging at his dick.

He stuffed his mouth with Santi's cock every night that week. It was almost feral the way he drank him down, eyes rolling as his lips kissed Santi's pubic hair and his tongue laved the shaft of his cock up and down, up and down. Drool cascaded from his lips all over his friend's belly, and he whined softly over and over whenever his curls were tugged, his temples stroked. Santi would talk to him softly, murmur the quietest little praises that made Frankie insane with need. That's it, there you go. You take what you need, Francisco. And then he'd come down his throat, fill his stomach with it, and whisper, "Good boy."

It was filthy, but it wasn't wrong. Not one part of it felt wrong. And Santiago never once made him feel like it was a shameful secret they were keeping, like the others finding out would be the end of the world. And it's good that he'd maintained that stance, because soon enough, Benny was in on it too. They should have seen it coming, considering his bunk was directly above Santi's.

"Can you give me one, maybe?" he'd asked Frankie awkwardly one night, voice quiet and slightly nervous as he leaned over the bars of the bunk bed, "I've been... I've been listening to it every night and it's driving me fuckin' crazy that I don't know what it feels like."

"Are you saying you've never had a blowjob, Ben?"

Benny had rolled his eyes, "Of course I've had a fuckin' blowjob, idiot. I've just never had a... a you know..." he'd shrugged, "A Frankie blowjob."

"It's good," Santi had said nonchalantly, tugging off his shirt and climbing into his bunk, "He's fucking incredible, actually."

Frankie had preened at the praise, cheeks reddening. An hour later he'd climbed up into Benny's bunk and deepthroated his cock for a solid fifteen minutes. Benny was breathless, chest blooming with heat as he watched Frankie suck and drool, gagging every so often but immediately resuming his sloppy ministrations as soon as he'd caught his breath.

"Look at that," Benny had marveled softly, "Look at that."

"I told you," they'd both heard Santi whisper from below, "He's a fucking godsend."

"I'm gonna cum down your fuckin' throat, Frankie," Benny had groaned, and no sooner were the words out that he was following through, spurting slow and steady into Frankie's mouth. He gripped the back of his head, watched Frankie swallow, and then whispered, "Good boy". Oh, he really had been listening.

Sated and warm with wet and sticky briefs, Frankie had climbed back into bed with a new appreciation for Benny.

As if two wasn't enough, Will got involved shortly after that. Of course Benny had unsurprisingly spilled the beans to his brother, which lead to Frankie climbing atop his own bunk one night to join Will, who'd been a bit unsure. It was as if he thought a prank was being pulled on him, like it was all bullshit, but he didn't say no.

"Been wonderin' what you three were gettin' up to," he'd muttered, watching Frankie a bit dubiously, brow furrowed, arms crossed, "Ben says you're, uh... good."

"I'm good," Frankie had promised softly, bringing his hands down to tug at Will's boxers, "Promise."

Will had watched as Frankie brought his already hardening cock out of his underwear, kissed the tip gently and then brought it into his mouth. "Oh fuck," he'd heard Will gasp out, immediately reaching up to cup the back of Frankie's head. And then there were three.

But three stayed three. Tom did find out about it, considering every single night somebody seemed to be getting their dick sucked. Any discreetness had gone out the window, especially when two of them would jack themselves off to the sounds of Frankie slurping and sucking, groans and the heavy slap of skin echoing throughout the large room. But despite the knowledge of what his friends were doing, the leader of the group was seemingly disinterested in having a go with Frankie.

There was one disastrous evening wherein the others managed to convince Tom to give it a shot. But Frankie bobbed on his cock for a solid five minutes before realizing he just wasn't getting him hard, and Tom had pushed him away and turned in bed with a low sigh.

"It's just not for me, Fish," he'd muttered, "Pretend it never happened."

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Santi had murmured ten minutes later as he watched Frankie suckle on the leaking tip of his cock, "Huh, Francisco? Doesn't know you've got the mouth of an angel, huh?"

Frankie had continued to suck, eyes closed, breathing deeply in and out as Santi stroked his hair.

Things were easier for a while after that. The training was strenuous, oftentimes near impossible, but there was always pleasure at the end of it, always something to look forward to. Every night Frankie would take up residence in someone's bunk, usually after a quick game of rock paper scissors or a straw draw. Each of his friends were different in their own way, and Frankie took a lot of joy in being able to have those moments with them, be what they needed. It felt like he was floating, dreaming; he'd never realized how badly he wanted to be submissive like this until it actually happened. Being their shared prize, their plaything, it was fucking incredible.

Sometimes he'd have all three in one night. He'd deepthroat Benny's cock and swallow him down, then stagger to Will's bunk and do the same. With his own erection aching in his underwear he'd finally crawl in with Santi and allow his closest friend to pull down his briefs and notch the head of his cock into his ass. Santi was the only one who fucked him, the only one who held him close afterwards and sometimes fell asleep with him.

"You my good boy, Francisco?" he'd murmur in Frankie's ear as he fucked him slow and deep, fingers digging into his hips beneath the sheets, "You like feelin' that cock in your ass?"

And god, did he ever.

The first real mission was brutal.

It was tame compared to the things they'd eventually do, but for what it was, they were stressed out of their minds. They spent weeks planning, training, preparing. They'd find themselves so tired at the end of the day that their nighttime habits became a thing of the past, if not something that only happened once in a blue moon. And in its own way the lack of it had begun to affect everything else, their comradery, their abilities, their drive. The day before the mission was set to begin, Benny stood up at dinner and proclaimed, "We've gotta get our shit together."

"Sit down, our shit is together," Tom grumbled, "We're gonna be fine."

"We are not gonna be fine," Benny argued, expression genuinely fearful, "We're gonna fail the whole fuckin' thing and then we're out on our asses."

"There's truth to that, you know there is," Will pointed out as he pulled Benny back down, "There's somethin' missing here. We're not on our A game."

"What, 'cause Morales isn't getting sucked and fucked?"

Frankie's head had gone up, ears tinging pink as he looked over at Tom along with everybody else. There had been a beat of silence, and then-

"Nobody said that," Santi had stated calmly, "And don't be a dick."

"I'm not being a dick. It's fine what you all get up to in your own time, whatever. But it's not the be-all and end-all of our fucking team," he'd shrugged and looked at Santi with a frown, "I mean, come on, Pope. We're prepared, with or without the extracurriculars."

"We are," Santiago had agreed with a nod, turning to Benny, "It's gonna be fine, man. The nerves are just kicking in now but that's normal. We've trained for this, we're ready."

But Frankie could tell he wasn't being entirely truthful.

That night, despite the tiredness of the last day of training and the anxiety of what was to come - Frankie found a solution. He told Santi first, whispered it to him in his bunk and grinned at the expression on his friend's face, awestruck and aroused all at once.

"You're sure?" Santi asked him quietly.

"I'm sure. I think it'll help us de-stress."

Santi had leaned forward and tilted Frankie's cap up, pressed a firm kiss to his forehead and murmured, "Me sigues sorprendiendo, Francisco." You continue to surprise me.

A moment later he was climbing the ladder of Santi's bunk, coming face to face with Benny. "You wanna do something kinky?"

The younger man's eyebrow raised, "Kinkier than usual?"

"A blowjob is not kinky, Ben."

"Getting one from a guy is."

Frankie rolled his eyes and went to pull himself back down the ladder but Benny stopped him, reaching out to touch his wrist.

"What'd you have in mind?"

And that's how he'd ended up on his knees.

Will and Benny stood on either side of Santiago, all three men looking down at their submissive friend with unbridled arousal in their expressions, dark and anticipatory. There was silence at first, not necessarily awkward but full of a definite tension that was more than palpable.

Until-

"Tie him up," Santi murmured to Benny. Frankie's eyes went hooded almost immediately, lips parting as he peered up at his friends and felt his heart pound at the thought of what Santi was asking.

"How so?"

"His hands," Santi clarified, "There's some string in the first aid kit, tie his hands behind his back so he can't touch himself."

Benny followed his orders without question, heading toward the bathroom to grab the kit while Will gave Santiago a confused look. "Why can't he touch himself?"

Santi smiled, tilting his head a bit and peering down at Frankie's already debauched form. He walked forward and kneeled down in front of him, levelling with him as he reached for his waistband.

"'Cause he likes it," Santi murmured, "Haven't you noticed something about Frankie in all the months we've been doing this?" As he spoke he pulled down Frankie's pants to his knees, exposing his bare thighs to the room. He was already hard, the long shape of his cock protruding from his black briefs. "He doesn't touch himself," he continued softly, stroking his thumb gently against the V of Frankie's hips, "He always comes in his pants when he sucks our dicks."

Hearing the words aloud, stated so matter-of-factly, Frankie realized in that moment how fucking well Santiago had come to know him. Not once had Frankie voiced this, told him anything about what he really liked, what he craved. And yet here he was, having his desires told directly to him, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"And when he gets fucked," Santi continued, fingers trailing downward to ever so gently cup Frankie's cock, "He only lets me touch it. Ain't that right, Francisco?"

Frankie nodded slowly, a lump forming in his throat.

"Why?" Will asked again - always wanting clarification, an explanation.

"'Cause it feels good, doesn't it, Frankie?" Santi cooed, releasing Frankie's bulge and bringing his hand up to place a finger under his chin, "Feels so good to come untouched, huh? Feels good to let go when you've got a dick in your mouth, to fall asleep with your underwear all wet and your cock all sticky?"

Frankie nodded again, cheeks blooming pink. He felt someone behind him pick up his hands, start tying them together - Benny.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen his cock," Benny admitted, voice already rough with anticipation, "I mean... I guess I had other things on my mind."

"He's got a fucking great cock," Santi murmured, "Why don't you show 'em, Francisco? Let 'em see what you've been hiding under here, huh?" His finger dug into the band of Frankie's briefs, and all Frankie could do was nod again, unable to speak with the way his thoughts had begun to melt away, brain going fuzzy.

Benny finished tying his hands and walked in front of him again to stand alongside Santi, eyebrows going up when he watched Frankie's cock be freed from the confines of his underwear. It stood at attention immediately, long and hard, pink and flushed at the tip. It smacked wetly against his belly, balls hanging heavy and full as Santi pulled his briefs down entirely.

"Now look at that pretty cock," Santi breathed, almost just for Frankie alone, "Look how it's dripping."

And it was dripping, already pulsing and bobbing against his belly button with every rise and fall of his chest. The three men watched in silence for a moment as Frankie took deep breaths, his cock twitching and stuttering in front of them without being touched, simply exposed to the cool air of the room and their interested gazes.

"I kinda wanna...." Benny started to say, but trailed off, blushing a bit as he took a step away from his brother.

"I'll stay between you," Santi offered quickly, "Pull 'em out, it's fine."

There was no more hesitation after that. Frankie watched under his lashes as his three friends reached into their pajama pants and pulled out their cocks. Will was still mostly soft, though you could tell he was starting to harden with the sudden gravity of the situation. Benny was already stiff and leaking as he fisted his own, and Santiago's hung heavy and thick between his legs as he carefully circled the head with his thumb.

"We're gonna come all over your face, Frank," Benny told him quietly as he jerked his cock slowly up and down, "You know that, right? You're sure you're cool with that?"

It was like he was underwater, still unable to speak; he hadn't said one word since he'd gotten on his knees. It was as if the submissive part of him had taken over completely, mind going blank.

"Say yes or no, Fish," Will said, voice strained as he squeezed himself gently, "Wanna hear it."

"Yes," Frankie had finally managed to whimper, knees trembling against the cold floor, "Yes, please."

Santi grinned, "Well boys, I think we got our answer," He tilted his head again to eye Frankie from where he stood, "Let's get a little closer, shall we? I think he wants us up close and personal."

Within a few seconds Frankie was suddenly face to face with three cocks - it was like fucking Christmas morning. His mouth popped open and drool immediately began to collect in the corners of his mouth, eyes trailing back and forth to look at absolutely everything he could. He stared at the weeping tips, the fat heads, the thick shafts where his friends pumped and fisted. Without any thoughts in his brain he opened his mouth and laid his tongue flat against his lower lip, staring at Benny's cock - arguably the biggest - with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, you wanna suck on it, don't you?" Benny asked, a smile in his voice, "You go ahead, Fish. Suck that cock."

He did not need telling twice. His lips wrapped around the pink mushroom head of Benny's cock and his eyes rolled back as he began to suck, tongue lapping at the tip and devouring everything it had to offer. God he loved having his mouth full, loved hearing Benny's groans as he pushed his head forward and enveloped more and more of the cock in front of him, began to slide his lips up and down the shaft and cover it in his saliva.

"So pretty with a cock in your throat, Francisco," Santi told him, voice full of praise as he watched Frankie sink down even further on Benny's cock, 'til his nose was buried in his pubic hair. "Tell him how pretty he is, Benny. He wants to hear it."

Frankie anticipated some hesitance, maybe even a sarcastic comment, but Benny did no such thing. Instead, Benny's hand came up to cup the back of Frankie's head, holding him still on his cock as he breathed, "You're so pretty, Frankie."

A high keen of a whine made it's way from Frankie's throat, vibrated around the cock in his mouth. Benny trembled a bit, tangling his fingers in his hair and helping him bob a few more times before pulling him off completely. Frankie gasped for breath, tears in his eyes as he stared up at his friends.

"Your turn," Santi murmured quietly to Will, "Stuff him full."

"He fuckin' loves being stuffed," Will replied with a low chuckle, yanking Frankie forward by his hair and shoving his now fully hard cock into his mouth. It was the kind of rough Frankie was already well acquainted with when it came to Will, and he welcomed it with gratitude. He closed his eyes and allowed Will's cock to sink into his mouth like Benny's had, then swallowed around it, tightening the walls of his throat and gagging around the large intrusion.

"Yeah, choke on it, baby," Will muttered, gripping both sides of Frankie's head with a groan, "Baby boy."

Baby boy. That was a new one, especially from Will, but Frankie certainly wasn't complaining. He swallowed around him again, feeling his own cock bob against his stomach as he continued to worship Will's dick. There was only so much of the sensation that Will could take, and before long he too was pulling out of Frankie's mouth and resuming his slow strokes, breathing heavily.

"M'your baby boy," Frankie murmured to the three of them, Will's words still echoing in his mind. His voice was already completely shot, rough and scratchy from the two large cocks that had invaded his throat.

"You are," Santiago cooed, leaning forward to gently tap the head of his own cock against Frankie's bottom lip, "You're our baby boy, Frankie. Our good, pretty, perfect boy, huh?"

Yes, Frankie wanted to whisper, it's all I am. It's all I wanna be. But his mouth was already being filled a third time, this time by Santi's cock - the thickest of the three. His vision blurred with tears as it stretched his lips, the masculine taste dripping on the back of his tongue and down his throat. He'd had Santi's cock in his mouth the most out of everyone's; had fallen asleep a few times suckling on the tip of it while Santi murmured praise, like a comfort, a constant.

He knew exactly what Santi liked, what he didn't, how to tease him, how to get him there. Immediately, Frankie curled his tongue around the wide head, dipped the tip of it into Santi's slit and carefully fucked it in and out while suctioning the rest. He kept his eyes open this time even though they burned with tears, allowing himself to meet Santiago's gaze just how he knew he liked it.

"Oh, good boy," Santi praised softly, thumbing Frankie's cheeks and letting the head of his cock sit just inside the wet heat of his mouth, "Suckin' on that cock like it's my thumb, huh? Just how you like it?"

Now that was something unbeknownst to Benny and Will. They knew Santi liked to fuck Frankie sometimes, but they didn't know much about the logistics, the positioning, the way it worked. More often than not, Frankie would suck on Santi's thumb when he was being fucked, liked the feeling of having both his holes full at the same time. It felt complete somehow, safe. God, what would it feel like now if Santi were to fuck him and let Benny or Will fuck his throat? What would it feel like to be truly filled up like that, the way he'd always imagined? His cock twitched against his belly again, still untouched, still pulsing, and he moaned around Santi's cock.

"I think our baby boy needs a little break," Santi murmured softly, "Shh, it's okay, Frankie, it's alright," he slowly pulled his cock from Frankie's lips and allowed him to catch his breath, chest heaving. He felt multiple hands petting his hair, stroking his cheeks, thumbing his temples. Someone brushed one of his nipples, pinched it ever so gently and then did the same to the other one.

"Sweet little things," Will murmured, and that answered that.

"He really is a fucking godsend, Pope," Benny breathed, disbelief and awe playing at the edge of his voice, "Softest mouth I've ever felt."

"His eyes are what get me," Santi replied, and Frankie felt him take his cap off and toss it to the side, then a pair of lips kiss his forehead, "He's got the prettiest brown eyes, look so beautiful when he's got that wet mouth all full."

The way they talked about him, like he wasn't even there, like he was just a toy, something to play with, an object - it was so much. It was too much. He leaned back on his haunches and whimpered, eyes fluttering open as he looked up at his friends, still standing in front of him with their now very wet cocks in their hands.

"Put them on my face," he begged, voice broken and haggard, "All of them, please."

"Fuck," Benny gasped out, and without hesitation he placed the entire length of his cock along Frankie's cheek and forehead, tapping it a few times and hissing, "There you go. There it is, baby boy."

"You go around the other side," Santi told Will, knowing he wouldn't want to touch Benny's cock, "Put yours upside down on his other cheek, I'll go middle."

Benny was still slapping Frankie's face gently with his cock, hissing and groaning out words of praise. Santi slapped his own down across the center of his face, along his nose and lips. His cock settled up against Benny's, and for the shortest of seconds Frankie noted that they rubbed them together without speaking, without looking at each other. Will joined them on the other side, his balls hanging low on Frankie's forehead and his tip jutting out near his chin. Three cocks, side by side, covering their friend's entire face.

"Slap him with them, he likes that," Benny said through gritted teeth, doing it again and again and reveling in the whimpers and whines Frankie was making below them, "Ohhh, he fuckin' loves that."

"I don't think I can last," Will spit, voice more strained than it had been before, "This is too much, I'm gonna blow my whole fuckin' load any minute now."

"No one's stopping you," Santi encouraged, "Doesn't matter when we come, what matters is we do it all over his face. Cover him with it."

"Oh, he's gonna be fuckin' drenched," Benny groaned, eyes closing as he stilled his slapping movements to hold back his own orgasm. His voice was wild now, desperate, "I wanna come in his mouth, I call dibs."

"You hear that, Frankie, baby?" Santi murmured with a sly smile, "Benny called dibs on filling your mouth."

Frankie wouldn't have responded even if he could, just let out another whimpering moan and dropped his jaw, lolled his tongue out so his friends could take turns tapping the heads of their cocks against it. He was covered in precum, felt it dribbling down his chin and forehead, collecting behind his teeth and dripping down the back of his throat.

"Let him suck," Will hissed, "Let him suck mine one more time." At his words, Benny and Santi moved out of the way as best they could, Santi tapping Frankie's eyelid with his cock while Benny smeared more precum into his forehead. They watched as Frankie carefully suckled Will's tip into his mouth, closed his lips around him and hummed.

"Put it in your throat, baby boy," Will told him firmly, "Swallow around it, there you go. Thaaat's a good boy."

Gurgling sounds were coming from Frankie's gag reflex but he didn't stop or pull away, kept doing exactly what he knew Will needed as he swallowed him down. It took barely any time at all for it to be too much for Will to handle, and before any of them knew it he was pulling out and pumping his cock furiously over Frankie's face. Benny and Santi stepped back - they all knew what was coming.

"Don't come in his mouth, I called dibs," Benny warned, and Frankie could have sworn he heard Santiago chuckle.

"Keep your eyes closed, Fish," Will muttered, directly in front of him now as the wet sounds of his fist slipping up and down his cock filled the room, "Gonna paint that pretty little face and those sweet little nipples."

Franke whimpered, keeping his eyes closed as he continued to listen to what was going on around him. He could hear Santi and Benny still jerking themselves a few steps away, but Will's grunts and groans were the most prominent, the most present. And only a few seconds later he felt the first splash of cum hit his face - his left cheek.

"There it is," Santi egged Will on, "There he goes."

Another rope of cum landed on his forehead, dripped down onto his eyebrow. Then another on his chin. He listened as Will let out one more groan, still pumping his cock as he aimed at Frankie's bare chest. He felt two more spurts trickle down both of his nipples, sensitive and hard, and that was it.

"Fuck," Will groaned, satisfaction plain as day in his voice, "Fuck, Frankie."

He opened his eyes and was met with Will's cock, tight in his fist. Without hesitation he leaned forward and brought the tip gently into his mouth, licking off the excess cum as Will brought his hand down to play with Frankie's curls. He sucked for a few seconds, placed a soft kiss to the tip - his favorite spot - and then looked up to meet Will's gaze, a dazed little smile playing on his lips.

"Give it one more little kiss, baby boy," Will murmured, "Just one more." Frankie did as he was told, eyelashes fluttering as he kissed the sticky tip once more, and then Will was backing up to let Santi and Benny back into their spots.

"You're a good boy, Fish," he murmured, tucking himself back into his pants. "Mind if I watch the rest?"

"Please stay," Frankie managed to breathe, and the movement of his face caused some of the cum in his eyebrow to trickle downwards, dipping into the crevice of his nose. Will smiled and nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to observe.

"Won't be much longer now, Francisco," Santi told him softly, shuffling forward to carefully fill Frankie's mouth again with his dick. He watched with fascination as Frankie slowly bobbed on it, like muscle memory as he breathed evenly through his nose. "M'close. I think Benny's close too."

"You look so fuckin' good with all that cum on your face," Benny told him, voice almost pained, "Gonna look even better with more."

Surprisingly, Frankie pulled off Santi's dick without being told to do so and peered over at Benny with hunger in his eyes, "Can you... can I..." he cut himself off, going bright red as he looked back to Santi for reassurance.

"What is it, baby?" Santi asked softly, brow furrowing, "You good? You need to take a break?"

Frankie shook his head quickly, "N-no, I just...I..." he bit his lip and hoped his sudden idea wasn't about to be shot down, "Can you put them both in at the same time?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Fuck," Benny groaned, "Fuck, that's hot." There was no doubt in Frankie's mind now that Benny had quite liked having his dick so close to Santi's, so it made him grin when Benny moved forward to stand beside his friend and jut his cock out toward Frankie's mouth.

"Open up, Fish."

Dropping his jaw once again and staring wide eyed up at his teammates, cum still fresh and sticky all over his face, Frankie allowed Benny and Santi to slide both their cocks into his waiting mouth. The feeling was insane. The taste was insane. All masculine and heady and musky and wet, the smell of sweat and raw sex invading his nostrils as they both pushed their dicks further in alongside each other. Frankie felt two hands in his hair, one of Santi's and one of Benny's, holding him still.

"Oh fuck, I need a picture of this," Benny groaned, blinking furiously as he peered down at where he and Santi's dicks jutted out from Frankie's mouth. "Will, grab Pope's camera, I'm serious. I need to remember this."

As Will made his way to the bunks, Frankie continued to blink slowly and languidly, tongue almost lazily swirling along the fat heads of the two big cocks in his mouth. They were dripping everywhere, warm and sticky, layering the back of his tongue with all of their arousal. And he was so fucking overwhelmed.

"Two cocks," Santi breathed, thumbing a bit of Will's cum that had begun to dry on Frankie's cheek, "Two fat cocks for Frankie, huh?"

"Look at how his lips stretch," Benny added, pushing his cock in the tiniest bit further to watch how Frankie's mouth adjusted to the size, "S'like he was made for it."

"He was made for it," Santi agreed softly, pushing some hair out of Frankie's face and tucking it behind his ear, "Huh, Francisco? Were you made for this?"

Another slow blink and an even slower nod, careful not to dislodge the appendages in his mouth. Benny assessed the door Will had left through and then hesitated for a moment before turning to Santi and whispering, "You feel good, Pope," under his breath.

"So do you," Santi replied with a smile, "Y'got a nice dick."

Benny seemed a bit flustered, avoiding Santiago's gaze as he muttered, "Thanks."

Will rejoined them a few seconds later, Santiago's polaroid camera in hand. Frankie watched with pleasure as Will brought the camera over his head and faced it downwards, preparing the shot.

"Chipmunk cheeks," Will murmured fondly, snapping the picture with a smile, "This'll do great for the annual Christmas card, huh boys?" It was a joke of course; they all knew that what was happening right would more than likely never leave the base, but Santi and Benny laughed nonetheless, pushing their cocks just a little bit more into Frankie's mouth.

"He's full," Benny murmured, "All filled up."

"Not entirely," Santi chuckled, "But close enough."

Their teasing words, their smiles and their laughs, it was making Frankie crazy. His untouched cock was still bobbing on its own accord, twitching and dripping as they talked about him like he wasn't even there. He was going to come soon, he just knew it, and the thought alone made him whine around his friend's dicks, his eyes rolling back.

"Shh, it's okay, Francisco," Santi reassured him softly, "Just give us one more minute to enjoy this, okay? Will's gonna take a few more pictures. You just stay still and keep suckin' on those cocks."

"You got this, Fish," Benny murmured, "You can do it, you're a good boy."

I am, Frankie thought to himself as he closed his eyes and heard the snap of another photo, I am a good boy.

Will took two more pictures with the camera so they'd each have one, tugging the polaroids out as they developed and waving them in the air. This was better than any porno magazine they'd ever be able to stow away, something real and raw, perfect spank bank material.

"I want the first one, where his eyes are open," Santi told Will when he was done, "Calling dibs."

"You got it."

Finally, Benny and Santi pulled themselves slowly out of Frankie's mouth, leaving him nothing but a drooling, lightheaded mess on his knees in front of them. He gasped for breath, head going down as he coughed and spluttered. He felt Will's hands patting his back, helping him through it as his chest heaved.

"Gonna come all over that pretty face, Fish," he heard Benny groan, "Open that mouth again, gonna fill it up."

With all the strength he could muster, Frankie tilted his head up and shakily opened his mouth again. His jaw was sore and aching but he knew he could last a little longer, knew he could give his friends what they needed before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. He watched as Benny jerked his cock in front of his face, watched the way his precum bubbled and spilled at the tip before being replaced with ropes and ropes of hot cum. If Benny was known for anything when it came to their little extracurriculars, it was certainly the ridiculous amount of spend he was able to produce.

"Right in the back of his fuckin' throat," he groaned, watching as it spurted into Frankie's open mouth, "Knew I had perfect aim." He redirected the head of his cock to further paint more of Frankie's face, covering him with thick white all over his cheeks and lips. "Don't swallow it, Fish," he managed to moan out, "Keep aaaall of it in there for me like the good boy you are."

A few more spurts along his neck and chest, one more in his mouth, and then Benny was tapping the head of his cock against Frankie's tongue again, watching as the last few drops spilled out onto it. Frankie peered up at him with heavy lids, a low moan emitting from the back of his throat.

"Yeah," Benny breathed, tapping his tongue again, "That's for you, s'all for you." He pulled his cock out and took a step back, nodding toward Santi, "Go ahead, man. I think he's spent."

"He'll be okay," Santi said softly, shuffling in front of Frankie again and pressing the sticky tip of his cock to the corner of his cum-filled mouth, "Huh, baby? Can you last a little longer? Just a few more minutes for me?" Frankie nodded and he smiled, "Open wide, baby boy."

"Come on, I don't want him to swallow it yet," Benny said a little exasperatedly as Santi slipped the head of his cock past Frankie's lips, the tiniest bit of Benny's cum dribbling from the left corner of his mouth.

"He won't swallow," Santi murmured, "He's just gonna get my dick a little wet." He looked up to share a knowing look with Benny, like a little secret between them, and Benny turned bright red.

At his words, Frankie swirled Benny's cum around the head of Santi's cock, coating it in the salty substance. He gazed up into Santi's eyes as he did it, almost like he was silently whispering to him, pleading; I'm ready now, I'm ready for you to give it to me.

"Okay, Francisco," Santi whispered, just for him, "Lo has hecho tan bien." You've done so well.

He pulled out of Frankie with a pornographic squelching sound and began to work Benny's cum and Frankie's saliva up and down the length of his cock, still staring directly into Frankie's deep brown eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip, brows furrowing as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge.

"Ask for it," he said quietly, edged with something unhinged.

"Please," Frankie breathed, voice garbled and muffled by the cum in his mouth and the ache in his throat, "Please come on me, Santi."

And that was enough.

"Mierda," Santi groaned out, stomach tensing as his thick cock twitched in his grasp. Frankie didn't close his eyes this time, kept them locked onto Santi's as cum drenched his face. It splashed along his cheek and nose in short bursts, dripped down his neck and collected in the corners of his mouth. Without being able to help it, he popped his mouth open one final time to allow Santi to add more cum to the cocktail on his tongue.

"Christ," Will muttered a few steps away, "Would ya look at that?"

"This," Benny sighed, a smile in his voice, "This is what we needed. Fuck Redfly, man."

In any other circumstance Santiago probably would have smacked Benny on the back of the head for disrespecting the team leader, but he was a little more than preoccupied at the moment. He was still staring down into Frankie's eyes, lost in a daze as Frankie tugged him back into his mouth with his tongue and sucked the last remaining spurt of cum from the tip of his cock.

"C'mere, watch him swallow," Santi gestured for the others to join him, and they all resumed their positions in front of Frankie with heavy lidded eyes as they watched him suck.

"Show us first," Benny murmured, "Come on, Fish, show us what's in your mouth, huh?"

Releasing Santi's cock with a pop, Frankie carefully opened his mouth to show his friends the pool of cum swirling on his tongue, dripping down into the soft pockets of his cheeks. Practically in awe, they all stared as he played with it, twisted his tongue back and forth and moving the thick globs of cum from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Swallow," Santi whispered, and Frankie obeyed.

It felt like heaven going down his throat, thick and warm. His eyes rolled a little, tongue darting behind his teeth to lick any that he'd missed, swallowing again and then dropping his jaw to show them his clean tongue, mouth empty.

"Good boy."

They stood there in silence for a moment, almost in reverence. Frankie was a mess, covered in three thick loads of spend and still on his knees with his cock bobbing against his stomach. He was so aroused it was almost painful, the head of his cock pulsing along with his heartbeat as he waited for an order, a command. He whined a little, waiting for someone to do something.

"Untie him," Santi finally told Benny with a smirk, "I think he's ready now."

Ready was an understatement. So much of an understatement in fact that Benny had barely brushed against Frankie's hands to untie the string when Frankie was suddenly letting out the loudest moan of the night, high and unbridled and full of pleasured desperation. Benny practically ripped the string from his hands to turn around and get a better look, watching with wide eyes as Frankie started to come with his cock completely untouched.

It was truly a sight to behold. His three friends stood frozen with their eyes glued to Frankie's cock as it bobbed and twitched of it's own accord, slapped repeatedly against his own stomach and dipped into his belly button. They watched as thick ropes of cum began to spill from his weeping tip, painting his stomach and chest, his chin, the floor. His balls shivered and tightened, more spurting out again and again as he writhed and shook on his knees, making the most pathetic little sounds as his eyes rolled.

Four loads now.

They were all in shock. They'd known he could do it, had felt him come in his pants untouched more than enough times at that point to know it was possible for him. But Christ, they'd never seen anything like it.

The room went silent as Frankie caught his breath, as he came down from his untouched orgasm and his loud outburst. They all watched as his cock continued to twitch with aftershocks, Benny letting out a soft groan when a little more cum dribbled from the tip. And then it was over.

More silence, save for Frankie's gasps and whimpers. And then Will took a step forward.

"Thank you, Fish," he told him earnestly, patting him on the shoulder and squeezing it gently, "That was... fuck. Thank you. You're fuckin' incredible."

Frankie looked up at him through fluttering lashes and nodded with a small smile, and then Will disappeared back to the bunks.

Benny was next. He got down on Frankie's level and came face to face with him, a grin on his face, "You're so pretty, Frank," he told him softly, "And you did so good. S'at what you needed?" Frankie nodded and Benny ruffled his hair a little bit, "Thanks, man. Thank you. We're gonna kill it tomorrow."

He followed his brother back to the bunks, leaving just Frankie and Santi alone together. Just like Benny had, Santi kneeled down to meet Frankie at eye level, picking up his cap along the way and carefully placing it on top of Frankie's head with a smile.

"Did I do good?" Frankie asked him softly, voice hoarse.

Santiago smiled even wider, pulled the cap down a bit further and murmured, "Si, Francisco. Perfecto."

A sleepy and sated grin lit up Frankie's cum-coated face. He could still feel everything, the thick layer of spend on his cheeks and chest, his slowly softening cock, the ache in his jaw - and he loved all of it. It felt right. So fucking right.

"Can you take a picture?" he suddenly asked, eyes alight, "Of me? Like this? I wanna... I wanna keep it. To remember it."

Santi's eyes softened even more, hand coming up to gently stroke Frankie's bare shoulder, "I can do that."

Santi grabbed the polaroid camera, held it front of his face and peered down at Frankie with a fond smile as his friend looked up at him softly, tiredly. "Show me those eyes, Francisco," he murmured, and Frankie halted the fluttering of his lashes to give the camera his ultimate fucked-out expression, a smile playing at his lips. The camera flashed and Santi pulled out the developed picture, waving it in the air as he settled back down in front of Frankie.

"Look at all this," he murmured softly, reaching up to gently thumb a bit of the cum on Frankie's face and scoop it carefully into his friend's mouth. Frankie sucked Santi's thumb with ease, sleepy and docile.

"S'yours," Frankie breathed when Santi pulled it back out.

Santi raised an eyebrow, "Mine?"

"What you just put in my mouth," Frankie clarified with a flush to his cheeks, "That was yours."

"You can tell?"

Frankie nodded with a soft chuckle, "Yeah, I can tell you all apart."

And if that wasn't the hottest thing Santiago had ever heard in his life.

Getting up from the floor was a bit of a task, but Santi helped him every step of the way. He lead Frankie to the showers where he let him lean against the wall, let him bask in the warmth of the hot water and the feeling of soap and shampoo as Santi worshipped him in a different way, a new way. Pressed kisses to his temples and his forehead, took his time lathering Frankie's arms and legs, gently cleaned his coated face and spent cock. And when he was done, Santi wrapped him in a towel and brought him back to his bunk, laid beside him and kissed him slow and deep until it felt like all that existed was just the two of them, nobody else.

He'd placed the polaroid in Frankie's bedside table and stroked his hair, murmured those familiar soft and gentle praises as he drifted to sleep.

Needless to say, their first mission was a success.

You're lying down with him now. It's well past midnight, moonlight streaming in through your bare-bones new bedroom as you peer at him quietly from under your lashes. He looks tired - he's been talking for over an hour now.

"There's more," he murmurs, eyes drooping, "More happened after that, a lot more, but I-"

"You've told me more than enough," you whisper, "You've been so honest, Frankie." Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek, your mouth turning up slightly at the corners when his eyes start to close, "Thank you for telling me about that."

He hums, breathes deeply as sleep slowly starts to find him. You can't help but stare at him, watch his face turn peaceful, the lines in the corners of his eyes smoothing out, his full lips relaxing into a natural frown. He's so beautiful. He's so.... good.

You think of him back then, the way he probably used to be. So unsure, so new to the real world and so close to facing things he'd never anticipated. You picture him lying in his bunk with Will above him, Santi and Benny beside him, Tom somewhere else, somewhere distant - it makes sense now. It all makes sense.

And now he's lying in his own bed, in his own house, years later - with you. You, the only thing you think has really made sense to him for a long time, the only thing that's helped him overcome some of life's worst obstacles, the pain and the trauma from the shit he's dealt with throughout his life.

But despite all of this, despite the past few years you've spent together, you suddenly can't help but wonder where he'd be right now if you hadn't met.

Would he be in Santiago's bed?

You slip out from under the blankets and grab your phone from your nightstand, making sure to turn out the light before heading to the kitchen. Your nostrils are met with the smell of fresh paint and leftover chow mein as you flick on the overhead and settle yourself on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

Unsure exactly why, you unlock your phone and scroll through your contacts, biting your lip as you search for Santiago's name. When you finally find it, you tap on it, feeling something odd sink in your heart when you see the lack of messages. You've never texted him? Not even once? You lean back and try to think of the last time you even had a conversation alone with him without Frankie or the others there, just a one-on-one interaction... and you come up blank.

He'd been such a huge part of Frankie's life. And still is now - still sees him on weekends, goes to games and bars, came over to the old apartment for drinks and dinner pretty regularly. He's been there for Frankie in ways you never could have imagined or guessed, took care of him and comforted him, would probably take a bullet for him - hell, he actually might've for all you know.

You look back down at your phone and stare at the blank space where words should be, feel that guilt from earlier rise in your chest and make a home in the form of a lump in your throat.

You start typing out a message.

[adelheidvonschicksal]

⋆｡°✩ Do Roommates Sleep Together?

“We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but the delicate foundation you built cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt. “Do roommates sleep together too?”

Synopsis: Your relationship with Xavier is unconventional, skipping and trampling on the many proper steps society deems appropriate. It should take months to form the trust needed to sleep together, and it should take years for you to ask him to move in with you.

Yet, here you are, with more courage to ask him to live with you than to tell him you’re in love with him.

Content Warning: fluff, suggestive dialogue, pining, literal sleeping together, a lot of internal exposition, mild angst, hurt/comfort, acquaintances to friends to lovers, implied soulmate tomfoolery to justify the fast burn, small references to chapter 4 main story, Heartstring Symphony, Nighttime Stroll, Shooting Stars Myth, and Unit 602's Representative Phone Call, Xavier sucks at following the non-interference policy (he tried his best), female reader, 6.5k words, safe for work

A/N: First section before Warm Wishes/Dreams within Reach tender moments and second section after Close Feelings tender moment to give a better timeframe. This is going to be two parts with the second part NSFW.

“Do you want to hang out at my place?” 

Your smile begins to flatten as Xavier stares at you from his doorway. There’s a listless energy radiating from him. It’s intimidating even if there’s no anger behind his hooded gaze, the kind of intimidation where you’re afraid he might not be listening to you or even wants to listen to you.

“This new scary movie came out. Tara was supposed to watch with me, but she had a last-minute thing to take care of,” you explain, watching as he yawns and wipes his eyes. “So, I thought that maybe you’d like to watch with me instead. Or, we can do something else. I got games. Monopoly, Phase 10, Kitty Cards.” 

Xavier rubs at the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eye. “Are you sure you want it to be just the two of us?” 

There are many things to be said about your relationship with Xavier. You’re work partners, neighbors in the same apartment complex, and you consider him your friend. It’s also true that your friendship is young despite the many hours at the arcade together and whatever stories your co-workers like to imagine, making your offer sound more like a date invitation than hanging out. It causes you to go tongue-tied as your innocent mistake blankets you.

“Oh, not in that way! I mean not that it would be a bad thing.” You start to lose your composure when you meet his gaze again. It’s not like you wouldn’t go on a date with him if given the opportunity. He’s tall, soft-spoken, and very handsome. It’s more surprising he doesn't have a girlfriend. “I was thinking it could be a good way to foster friendship between hunters. Yeah, that’s it!”

The truth was that you were looking for something to distract yourself ever since the incident at your grandmother’s house. Tara having to cancel bummed you out more than you wanted to admit, but you didn’t want him to agree because he felt sorry for you.

“I understand,” Xavier cuts in. “I’d be happy to join you…in an hour,” he finishes with another small yawn. 

“Great!” you cheer. “See you soon.”

When you make it back to the elevator, you’re taken aback about how happy you are that he agreed. You thought you were simply happy not to have to be alone on your day off, but this was a different kind of satisfaction than when you invited Tara. It was a little strange but you ignored the thought and clicked the button to your floor. 

When Xavier arrives, everything goes as planned. You spread out an array of snacks on the table in front of the sofa, which your selection seems to be approved by how quickly he opens the package of chips and hums to himself when he takes a bite. 

“This is supposed to be super scary! I read you won’t sleep for days after,” you tell him, grabbing the remote to play the movie. 

“For days? Sounds awful,” Xavier mentions between bites, making you chuckle. 

“If you get scared, you always have me to protect you.” 

“I’m more worried about you than me,” he mouths off. “You always look like a statue when I tell you scary stories.”

“Fake movies and stories based on real places are different!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he agrees on the surface. You’re not sure how you only make friends with people who love to tease you, but you make no mention of it as the movie finally reaches its opening sequence. 

It doesn’t take long for you to realize this movie’s fear factor was greatly over exaggerated. There were monsters, sure, but also one too many jump scares and dark scenes that made it hard to tell what was happening. Fighting wanderers for a living did leave you a bit desensitized as well, you guess. 

As you reach to fill in your boredom with more chips, you can’t help but notice how Xavier looks like he’s about to give out any second. His eyes are drooping and his head bobbing to the side. You lose count of how many times he forces his limp body straight and strains to watch the movie playing on the screen, one agonizingly slow blink at a time.

“I’m fine,” he says before you can bring up how tired he looks.

“It’s not a big deal, Xavier. This movie is pretty boring, so if you wanna call it a night, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings.” You don’t want him to leave yet but you don't want to keep him up either. Sighing, you’re frustrated the movie isn’t as exciting as you thought it would be, and it’s difficult to fight the disappointment from showing on your face. 

And, well, Xavier…

“It’s alright. It’s honestly not bad, so—”

Xavier doesn’t even finish his sentence before his head hangs over. In hindsight, you start to realize that you must have woken him up earlier, explaining his prior passiveness.

You always wondered what he did on the days he wasn’t working. It should’ve been apparent to you that he spends most of his free time sleeping. No wonder his apartment was always so quiet during the day. You’re thankful he wasn’t actually annoyed at you earlier but guilty for interrupting his rest and decide to grab him a blanket.

You don’t notice him tilting to the side before you have the chance to get up. It’s quick after that. Without warning, he falls into you, his head brushing the side of your shoulder before he collapses on top of your lap.

The situation takes you by surprise, and the world churns to a slow stop. The sounds from the television fade into the background in favor of your heartbeat becoming the thing you’re most aware of when it registers that Xavier, a man you recently can call a friend, has fallen asleep in your lap. You have no idea what to do in a situation like this. It isn’t on purpose, so there’s no need to blow up, but you can’t allow this to continue.

So, you choose to wake him up.

“Xavier,” you call and rock his shoulder. You call his name again, a third time, and finally give up when he doesn’t budge by the fourth. “Would it be too mean to roll him off?” you wonder, grimacing as you imagine him hitting the floor. It would definitely be too mean.

Sighing, you gaze at his face nuzzled too comfortably against your thighs. Xavier looks so incredibly soft like this, bundled in an oversized Blanchi hoodie. It isn’t anything you’re not used to seeing him in. However, this is different. With his hair strewn across his temple and his face so at ease, it reminds you of a big fluffy bunny flopped over for an evening nap. Just like a cuddly bunny, you can’t resist petting him, brushing your fingers across his bangs to fix them. Your heart flutters as you confirm his hair is incredibly soft and his pale eyelashes longer than you ever noticed.

Not able to restrain yourself, you gently poke his cheek, marveling when it’s much chubbier than you imagined. It causes him to moan, his eyes twitching from the intrusion.

“Mm…what?” he groans out.

Swiftly, you pull your hand away, frightened he might have caught you.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” you stammer out, not the best of excuses; but in your defense, he caught you off-guard by waking up from something so small. When he doesn’t respond again, you quickly realize he’s still asleep. “Oh, he sleep talks!”

A mischievous wave washes over you from the new piece of information you acquired. Teasingly, you poke his cheek again, giggling when he shifts to hide his eyes from the light.

“Xavier, I have a question to ask you.” You slide your fingertips along his bangs once more. “Be honest. Are you Lumiere?”

Patiently, you wait for a response. However, nothing comes after several seconds. Just when you’re about to give up hope, you hear him muttering. You lean your head closer, hoping to hear him better.

“Red…” he mumbles.

You repeat after him. “Red?”

“Red…extra spicy.”

You blink at him, knitting your brows. “Extra spicy?”

Oh. The hot pot restaurant.

“Dreaming about food? That tracks.” You shrug. It was worth a shot. “Fine, keep your secrets.”

Choosing to leave him be, you’re about to sit back and continue the movie except you are interrupted by him mumbling again. This time, he whispers your name quietly under his breath causing your undivided attention to fall on him.

“Yes?” you ask.

Xavier sighs softly, peacefully.

“Come home…with me…”

There must be a world record for how fast someone can heat up, and you must have broken it. It’s like someone threw you directly into boiling oil and left you to burn in it. There’s no way you heard him correctly.

Did Xavier really ask you to come home…with him? Is he dreaming about you? If so, in what kind of dream? And why?

These are the questions stumping you. Sure, you consider him your friend, but when did he start to see you as someone close to him?

The more important question is why aren’t you doing anything about it? You aren’t angry about him whispering your name in his sleep nor offended, and it didn’t feel out of place to be close to him, like this, with his head resting in your lap and your hand in his hair. The moment becomes nicer and nicer—treasured—the more times you run it through your head, familiar even, like déjà vu.

There are too many variables for your brain to piece it all together in such a short amount of time. Praying for the tempest battering your emotional insides to reside, you resign yourself to your fate, allowing him to have his peace while your mind completely focuses on the words slipping from his dreams.

When Xavier begins to stir hours later, your movie is long finished, credits rolling as some dramatic music plays in the background. His eyes tighten then relax before he finally opens them, greeting you with hazy blue. He lifts himself into a stretch then rubs his eyes with his wrist. When he finally adjusts to his surroundings, he looks at you with an apologetic sulk.

“Did I…fall asleep on you?” he asks, grogginess still riding his voice.

“Literally or figuratively?” you ask as a joke, but it doesn’t seem to comfort him. Shaking your head, you try to ease the tension—the one known by him and the tension inside of yourself—by laughing. “It was both.”

Xavier blinks a few times, turns his head to the screen to see the credits rolling, and snaps his eyes back on you questioningly. “And you let me for two hours?”

“You looked really tired,” you explain, ignoring how hot your cheeks start to get. You couldn’t tell him you got distracted by his cute face. “I didn’t want to move and wake you.”

“I don’t wake that easily,” he states, proudly even. You almost tell him how well everyone knows he can sleep through a typhoon, but it’s drowned underneath the softness of his smile. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

The look he gives you is so tender, like looking at a fond memory. It brings back the fluttering knots in your stomach from before as you imagine what could be the true reason behind that gaze. What could he possibly be thinking in his waking moments that would make him dream about you?

“Xavier, do you know you talk in your sleep?” The confused and panicked, deer caught in headlights expression, he gives causes you to fidget with your fingers and drop your gaze to your lap where they lay.

His face tinges slightly. “Nothing too embarrassing I hope.”

You bite your bottom lip as his face reddens. He looks so sweetly shy for once, and you’re starting to question if you’re overreacting by confronting him about something as silly as a dream, one that probably didn’t mean much.

“You tried to order food in your sleep!” you tell him with a small laugh, and his shyness melts away.

“I did? What did I get?”

“Red sauce. Extra Spicy.”

“Then, I guess that’s what I’ll get for dinner tonight,” he remarks. He doesn’t laugh but you can see the amusement reflected in blue eyes, which makes you return his happiness. Yet, the calm moment is short-lived as your mind becomes overwhelmed again by questions you were too nervous to ask; and a small piece of you, too afraid to know the answer.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, drawing you out of your rampant, clashing thoughts. “You look sick.”

“I do?”

He nods, his expression softening.

”Are you still thinking about everything?" he pauses, his worry becoming more visible as he looks at you. "It must be difficult.” Your head blanks at his words. You weren’t aware Xavier gave you enough attention to notice your mood was different. You thought you did okay coming to terms with everything at least while at work to where he wouldn’t notice. 

“It’s been a pretty rough week, weeks, actually. I haven’t been sleeping well either,” you agree, struggling to keep your mind anywhere else but there. You’re sure you must look exhausted though. Your under eyes have been darker, the days you could convince Jenna you didn’t need any more leave a bit sluggish, and even Zayne warned you not to lose yourself in grief. It’s easier said than done.

What you don’t expect is for Xavier to grab your wrist and pull you closer.

Xavier normally isn’t the one to draw you, or others for that matter, to him. You’re the one who's been taking the steps to get to know more about him. Offering to help him get his plushie, bargaining with him into becoming your partner, asking him to watch movies with you, while he always seems to keep you a little at arms length, not opening up as much as you wish when sharing stories even when sometimes he looks like he desperately wants to before deciding against it.

Your eyes widen when your nose hits the side of his chest. It's strange to have him be the one pulling, failing to keep his boundaries and also testing them. You don’t want to push him away though. You liked this. Maybe because he was handsome. You hear pretty people can get away with anything, but it feels like more than that. Tara might have been right. Maybe you do have a crush on him but you didn’t care the reason right now when it’s so comforting. You can feel his muscles underneath the thick, warm fabric of his hoodie, and the clothing smells so nice. You can’t help thinking he definitely feels like a bunny too.

“Sleeping is much better with someone.” 

“How do you know?” you mumble against him.

“Well, I just had the best sleep I’ve had in days thanks to you. So, allow me to return the favor. I’ll be your pillow this time,” he offers; and surprisingly, your eyes do feel oddly heavy when his soothing voice reaches you. “Relax. I promise not to move for at least two hours, but you can take more if you like.”

”How kind,” you say with a smile, and it feels genuine.

Once again, you get the same familiar sensation from before, that same odd suspicion this has happened once before—or rather it’s supposed to happen? You’re too tired to think about it. You close your eyes to the most blissful dreams you’ve had in weeks.

When you wake up again, it’s not by choice. Xavier is looking down at you, his arm gently wrapped around your shoulders as your head lays on his chest. Your mind is still trapped halfway between being awake and asleep when he begins to talk.

“Welcome back. Did you sleep well?”

You nod. “Real well actually."

Xavier says something else but your tired mind misses the majority of it aside from the fact it’s getting late.

“You can spend the night if you want,” you tell him, allowing sleep to win back over as you try to close your eyes again, but he lifts you away from him, your head swaying with the motion until you find a place to prop your forehead on his shoulder. Your mind echoes with the thought of how soft his hoodie is and how you need one like it as you try to drift back off. Xavier is right. Sleeping with someone else is better, and this closeness you’ve been missing since you lost your family makes you needy. 

“It probably wouldn’t be appropriate.”

For some reason, it hurts to think he's back to pushing you away. Even though, it shouldn't.

“But you didn’t get a chance to watch the movie,” you reply, looking for an excuse for him not to leave. “It’s a 48-hour rental, so we can try again.”

Xavier shakes his head, gently poking at your forehead to force your head back. “I’m sure it’ll be twice as boring for you the second time.”

“If we watch it together…”

He meets your foggy gaze apologetically. “I don’t think we’d get very far.” 

“We won’t know until we try,” you argue drowsily. 

“You don’t look like you’d make it another ten minutes. You belong in bed.”

“I can,” you whimper as the too-bright lights of the overhead fan hit you. 

“Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result,” he murmurs softly, almost teasingly until his tone takes on a seriousness you’re too lethargic to grasp, “Isn’t that insanity?”

“I like to call it determination. Who knows? Maybe this will be the time it works,” you joke. Instead of the smile you expected the look on his face is pensive and a little sad, like you touched a delicate spot. The sudden remorse wakes you up almost immediately. “Xavier?”

When he realizes you’re watching him, the longing in his gaze melts into something you can’t describe, other than the fact it makes your heart climb in your throat. 

“Alright,” he agrees, much to your surprise and relief. “Let’s try again…but tomorrow.”

Frowning, you avert your gaze, which makes him pet your head. 

“Don’t pout. Tonight, I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, moving back to rest your head against his chest.

Maybe your grandma wouldn’t have liked you getting so close to a man you didn’t know much about so quickly. Caleb would at least have a few questions, but your intuition tells you that you’re making the right choice when his arm goes back around you. As you start to drift off, you can swear you hear Xavier laughing at you under his breath. “You’re as impossible to say no to as always.”

You’re not entirely sure what time Xavier went back to his apartment that night, but the next morning you wake in your bed, looking forward to seeing him again. You only hope the sweet and confusing fact that you’re in love with him, of the parts he shows you when you’re alone, stays in your dreams the next night and the many nights following that you share with him.

Over the months, as your relationship with Xavier grows stronger, you find it common to share many things with each other. You play online games, house sit for one another, grow strawberries, and usually go home together after your deepspace trials. Most interestingly, you two take naps together on your days off sometimes, nothing sexual about it despite what Tara and her Tarot cards believe. Sure, there might have been questionable situations, but it was all innocent in the end. It's often a short nap in the afternoon after running errands or having lunch together. It's one of those days that you finally build the courage to bring up what's been on your mind for a while now. 

It's late when it happens.

The skyscraper lights begin to glow through your balcony door, blinking out the gentle shimmering of distant stars that managed to cut through the trickling rain earlier in the evening. It’s a little disappointing to lose sight of the stars. They’d become a comfort for you in the time you’ve spent with your friend. You'd never given them much thought before then.

The downpour of rain splattering against the glass panels of the balcony makes the city lights milkier to your sight and the steady dripping of water returns some form of calmness when paired with your neighbor’s breathing next to you.

It’s deep and warm, ushering you towards the world of dreams. Everything about Xavier is like a white noise or a desperately needed hug, which is why you’re curled up at his side in this bed that’s too small for the both of you. You didn’t care, and you suspected Xavier didn’t either.

He didn’t mention the smallness of the bed when you offered to take a nap together nor when your head found the bulge of his bicep to use as your pillow. You didn’t give him time to respond when one of your hands slid across his lean chest, reaching for his always subtle pulse. You find the lazy pattering easy to count while the heat in the sheets become much more apparent when you feel the weight of his touch cradle that very same hand to his chest as if promising every beat to you.

Everything about the situation causes your eyes to flutter with tiredness, but you want to savor this moment a little longer. In case this is all an elaborate dream. You hope to death it’s not. So, you force your eyes to remain open, releasing a soft sigh instead as you cuddle into his arm.

Too soon, you feel Xavier slipping further away from you.

You don’t want him to go yet. More than ever, a force inside you needs him to stay tonight, and you lock your grip on the white knit shirt he wears. You tug him back over to you to close this unbearable distance he made. The few little inches he moved were more than enough to cause your heart to yearn.

“Not yet,” you want to plead but make it a soft demand. “I just found the perfect spot.” You muffle the neediness of your requests into his skin, though your head is afraid that somehow he’ll feel it.

“You always use that excuse.”

“And it’s always true. So, no moving,” you order.

Xavier gives in so wonderfully quickly. Your heart is rapidly firing when the corners of his lips turn into his usual waif-like smile. You fail at hiding your satisfaction at his surrender, pressing more of your weight against him, in a sure sign to him that you have no intention of letting him escape any time soon.

“I take this to mean you’re finally admitting it’s your fault we didn’t do our errands today?”

“I never said that,” you disagree half-heartedly. “And don't pretend like you weren't the one who kept saying he didn't feel like getting up earlier.”

“And now that I do, you won’t let me up. Am I right? Why’s that?”

There’s a beat skipping in your chest when he asks. His tone is light and open, easy to treat as a teasing joke but also firm enough to be taken seriously. That was always your trouble with him. You could never quite tell what he was thinking and when he was serious. Xavier is hard to understand sometimes, sometimes vague and sometimes very straightforward in his words; and lately, you think he’s consistently more hot than cold towards you ever since the first time you've slept together.

You like to think this development is a good thing. People who knew you always said you worked a little too hard, a little too observant, overly energetic despite your fragile heart; but with Xavier, you could relax. Moments like these: when his arm was around you and when his breath was at the side of your neck, the soft words he speaks in his sleep dancing in your mind, were the moments when patrolling for wanderers and every loss in your life from your family to your problematic heart dissipated into the back of your mind for a few hours.

It isn’t an exaggeration to believe his influence must have been the cause, at least when it comes to this. But your influence is seeping into him as well. Given his loner habits when you first met and his frequent disappearing acts, you never pictured him as one to be so sweet and considerate and adorably charming in a way.

However, you can’t tell him that you enjoy…sleeping with him. You have a strong feeling he already knows how much you like him. Or, you’d like to think he does with the way he constantly seems to hint at it. He can make you flustered with a few words and easily leave you guessing if you’re reading too much into his actions or if he’s really that good at baiting you. It could also be a little of column A and a little of column B, which somehow makes you more antsy around him. Like how you feel now when his eyes meet yours.

“It’s supposed to be cold tonight,” you whisper. It’s a poor excuse but the only one you can use to defend yourself. “They say the best way to fend off the chill is body heat. Who better for that task than you, dear partner?”

“Many things, I assume, a portable heater comes to mind,” he says, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s slyly teasing you behind that naive tone.

“Right, right, those things,” you grumble causing him to laugh as you hide your bashful face against him. “So loud, you know?”

“Are they? Alright, then five more minutes should be doable,” he says in the same low voice that makes your insides boil before his arm lowers to curl around your back. “Although, you’re too comfortable.”

His ears tinge in a lovely rose-colored blush, and you shudder when he finally fails to maintain eye contact and quickly scans your body. It’s slow enough for you to catch though. It makes your chest tight as you watch his quiet inhale and the murky flash of want dye his eyes shades darker before they fade back into clear pools of blue, big and pleading as he studies your face. 

“I might end up falling asleep here.”

It’s a warning, to make you think about the meaning of your actions, you think. However, this isn’t the first time this has happened nor the first time you spent a rainy day inside with each other; the kitchen counter lined with empty take-out trays, with his body heat radiating into you while a long-forgotten movie plays in the background.

It’ll continue like that until one of you is finally coherent enough after drowsy naps to try to piece together who fell asleep on whom first or who is making the other too hot. Neither of you wants to accept the fault without a lot of bickering; that’s if Xavier doesn’t fall back asleep mid-debate.

Even this time, you’re not sure who managed to drift off to sleep first earlier but neither of you tried to get up, let alone leave the house, until now. Ah, but it was your idea to use the bed this time, wasn’t it?

But it was his choice to agree.

Even now, he looks very peaceful nestled with you, and he still whispers your name in his sleep sometimes, which reminds you of the first time you slept together and he dreamt about wanting you to come home with him.

When you’re like this, you want the same thing. You want him to come home…with you.

“Xavier?” you ask quietly. You wonder if he’s fallen asleep already like he said. Carefully, you free your hand from his hold, slide it up his chest, and begin to draw smooth circles with your pointer finger once you reach his cheek. There’s a soft response from him, barely a moan but it’s enough to know he’s not out of it yet, at least not completely. “I’ve been thinking.”

The air is suddenly stifling when he engulfs the top of your hand with his own, holding it tighter as if he’s upset that you moved it out of his grasp in the first place, but it’s not the case as he affectionately seals your palm against his cheek.

“About what?”

The look he gives you makes it hard not to stumble over your thoughts like a schoolgirl despite being very much an adult.

“Wouldn’t…” You pause to steady your voice; you have to force yourself to not avoid his gaze, but each small movement makes your throat tighten. There’s no doubt you have his full attention now, at least what little remains of it. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we…move in together?”

You’re not sure where the courage to ask him a question like that comes from when you’re too unsure to even confess or to ask what the two of you even are but you didn’t have this fear of rejection until now.

“How would it be easier?”

“Well,” you start, unsure why you’re surprised that he’d want a reason. “We’re always visiting one another, and you made me your representative at the tenant meetings, so everyone already treats us like we’re a combined unit. It would also save me trips on watering your plants when you’re away or when you want to come over to eat. We could save money. Money that could be spent at the arcade or on more hot pot.”

There’s a quiet atmosphere that makes you too uneasy. The thrumming of rain grows louder in it along with the beating in your chest that’s telling you that this was stupid. Is it possible to be drunk on endorphins? Perhaps that’s what gave you the idea to ask something so foolish; you’d have to get Zayne to examine your empty head and tell you.

But then, Xavier smiles.

“Those are good reasons especially more hot pot, and I’m sure all the plushies would feel better if they shared a home again.”

Your anxiety lessens and you share in his smile. Luckily, you managed not to ruin everything it looks like.

“But.” Slowly, the inklings of self-doubt begin to return. A but. There’s always one of those. You should’ve expected as much. “If we move in together then we wouldn’t really be “neighbors” anymore.”

“Oh, um—” You become staggered by his observation, even more so when he interlocks your fingers. It’s another time when you’re not entirely sure if he’s being serious or not. His innocent puppy-eyed expression doesn’t help you differentiate either. It always makes your mind wander to more inappropriate topics—like the fact Xavier told you he didn’t believe that other neighbors acted like you two. The memory nearly makes you squirm. In this position, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but that delicate foundation cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt.

“Do roommates sleep together too?”

There’s a shine of amusement that makes his face glow and heat claw higher up your neck. You know the question should be taken literally but when he words it like that…with that warm implicative inflection to his voice, you’re unable to think properly, and you realize that maybe you made a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him the benefit of the doubt this time.

“I’m sure some do,” you answer with some courage, “I’d imagine at least once a week.”

“I believe we’re up to twice a week now. So, if we become roommates, I think we have to do it at least that many times, otherwise I’m afraid I’m going to have to reject your offer.”

“Two times?” you repeat, silently begging the flapping of butterflies in your stomach to calm down at the suggestion, at the implication that he enjoys sleeping with you just as much as you do with him. It makes this strong emotion in your chest blossom even further. “I can manage that.”

“Additional proposal,” he interrupts suddenly. “Perhaps, three times? I can even throw in a pair of those fuzzy socks that I can never manage to find after you visit,” he adds coyly.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re around your apartment somewhere,” you quickly respond before releasing the buildup of nervous air in your lungs. You smile. “Proposal accepted. Shared naps three times a week minimum.”

“In that case,” he breathes in softly, and he slips his hand down releasing all your fingers except for your pinky that he wraps into his own. “I think I would like to be your roommate.”

Inside, there’s unadulterated joy beginning to flood you. You know that this agreement will require a more in-depth discussion that Xavier will probably try to gloss over but this is enough for you right now.

“We should take tonight to practice for our move.”

Confused, you raise your eyebrows. “Practice?”

He nods.

“Sleeping together overnight. We did a few times before, well, only twice in the same bed, once in yours and once in mine,” he explains. You definitely have the clearest memory of that time, of bandaging his wounds, of cluelessly pinning him down shirtless on his bed before he turned the tables on you, and then—you remind yourself to resist going over the details, not with him this close to you. Somehow, Xavier is the one who looks the most insecure between the two of you. Finally, he whispers, “I haven’t forgotten even if it was a long time ago.”

His eyes are half-lidded, cloudy with thought. Something about him looks restrained and longing but it disappears when you finally swallow your swelling emotions and call out his name. There’s a twinkle of adoration that blows away whatever doubt there as he focuses on you again.

“I think about it when I have a hard time sleeping on overnight missions.” Xavier turns and slides his arm from under your head, choosing to lay on his side to face you. “It makes it a lot easier to rest in the hunting zones when you have good memories like that. So, it's nice to have a chance to make more."

“I don’t think I could fall asleep at all if I thought of something like that,” you admit, as close to an admission of your love for him as you could muster without mountains of alcohol. “I’d just think about how much I’d rather be home with them.”

“And now? Are you having trouble sleeping?” he asks huskily, and you have to fight not to keep staring at his lips and the dire need to kiss them as you breathe each other in. You reach out, touching his bare collar then instinctively searching for his slow pulse, counting it to calm yourself from the rush of adrenaline building in you.

You’re not even sure when you breathed out the “yes” that echoes softly from your mouth. His lips are so close to yours that you’re sure he could catch it in his breath if he wanted.

“How about I tell you a story to help you fall asleep?” He sees your hesitation and laughs under his breath. “I promise it’ll be much better than the last one.”

Accepting his offer, you agree to listen to him.

Xavier nods and gently swoops the back of his hand against your forehead and then your cheek before cupping it. There’s a gentle squeeze, and you think you understand why he likes it so much when you do it.

“Once, there was a beautiful queen and a knight,” he begins. “They lived together in a palace far away.”

“And they fall in love and live happily ever after?” you question, too busy in the full and fuzzy sensations filling your being to hold back.

“No, they were separated from each other for a long time,” Xavier corrects but his expression softens at the trickling concern building on your face. “Don’t worry. They meet again and become neighbors.”

“And then?”

“They become roommates,” he states matter-of-factly, which causes you to chuckle at him. You can’t even be bothered to care that he’s poking fun at you.

“Then, happily ever after?”

“I don’t know yet,” he answers, causing you to frown and your face to wrinkle with a sullen expression. His head tilts further into the plush of the pillow. “But you can help me figure out the ending.”

Feeling exhausted from the cathartic flow of emotions from him to you, you wiggle into him and throw your arm across his waist. “There’d probably be a lot of naps and stargazing involved,” you mumble before a tiny yawn.

“Sounds like a happy ending to me. It's good to finally see it,” he agrees, and you sigh when you feel a strong squeeze around your waist. “Although, you forgot to mention the part where the queen promises to not get out of bed without waking him this time.”

You giggle. “She promises not to get up without her knight.”

Content, he hums. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?"

"I think so after a story like that," you confess, reaching out to brush his hair back so you can see his eyes more clearly. "Then again, I always sleep good with you."

"You’ll sleep best when we're close, right?"

You gasp when he shifts on top of you. His lips briefly brush your forehead, by accident or not, you can’t tell as he pins you between himself and the bed. With a stutter, you call out his name yet he pays no heed as he nuzzles his head into your hair.

“Good night, roommate.”

“Xav-!” You pout when he instantly slumps against you. There’s no point trying to wake him up now that his five minutes of alertness have long expired.

Settling your chin against the top of his shoulder, you hook your arms under his to hug him against your chest. Your forearms settle at his mid-back as you hold him close so you can gently brush the ends of his hair.

When you ultimately decide to give in minutes after him, it’s to the warmth of his weight on top of you, the tickle of his hair against your forehead, and the increased pulsing of his heart. Xavier was right, this is too comfortable. Letting your eyes fall close, you wonder if three times a week would really be enough to satisfy this strangely familiar craving. You only wish that the two of you could meet in your dreams like he says, but it's enough knowing you'll have each other in the morning and then on.

“…Good night, Xavier. Sweet dreams,” you whisper before you too give into sleep’s spell.

[nochukoo97]

we can’t be friends (wait for your love) - teaser

pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x childhoodfriend!oc

summary: you and jungkook have been friends since birth, and as you both grow into teenagers, you can’t help but have some sorr of longing feeling towards him. but after a turn of events, you move away from your home town, growing apart from the boy you onced were close to. almost a decade later when you decide to move back, there’s someone familiar yet unfamiliar waiting for your arrival… was this the universe giving you a sign about him?

warnings/tags: story starts off when the both of them are children, but most of the plot is when they are adults :)), eventual: kissing, an emotional rollercoaster 🥲, they’re stuck in a ‘what are we’ moment, playing a waiting game of who confesses first, a little bit of angst, smut, but fluff too hehe

a/n: IM BACK 🥲 after being in writers block sighhh but i am back hehehe hope u r excited for this!! anyways this is just an intro for the actual fic, its more of what happened before the present which will be in the main part hehehe

TAGLIST OPEN!!

(this is the introduction, the main part is coming soon :)))

MASTERLIST

23 July 2007

You’re currently wedged between two bookshelves in the living room of your house, eyes trained on the words in your book, giggling to yourself when the plot takes a funny turn. Meanwhile in the background, Jungkook and your brother Taehyung, both a year older than you, the two ten year old boys play fighting in your parents backyard, their game was way too rough for you to even watch, you decided.

That’s always the way it’s been since you were young, Jungkook’s mum dropping him off at your parents place as he spent time with your brother, mostly roughhousing like they are now, and you, at nine years old, simply tucking yourself in another fairytale, which to you seemed like a much better way to past time.

You never truly spent a lot of time with the two of them when Jungkook would come over, besides the once-in-a-while moments where your parents would make you guys bond a little through board games or card games which the two elder boys would never take seriously, the games always ending in them either throwing the board game pieces at each other or stacking the cards into a pyramid.

When it came to school, you tried your best to stay away from bumping into your brother at school, but you’d always end up being teased in front of your friends by him and Jungkook, making fun of your two pigtails or your very glittery pink bag you had just gotten as a birthday gift, but you were used to it anyways, having grown up with a brother.

12 August 2011

Four years go by and now you’re finally completing your last year in middle school, Jungkook and your brother having moved on to high school, and as expected, they end up attending the same school, as they have done their whole life.

But since four years ago, a lot has changed. You’ve grown much closer to Jungkook, having gone on quite a few trips with his family, and you could even consider him a close friend. Most importantly, he’d grown from being a kid to a teenager, even though he was only a year older than you, the 14 year old boy suddenly became someone you always wanted to hang out with. To you, you saw him as someone cool. Instead of teasing you along with your brother, he now would defend you from your brother’s teasing, treat you to ice cream on the weekends and even teach you the video games he played with your brother.

“And then he let me get as many toppings as I wanted,” You tell your friends, clicking the buttons on your phone to show them the picture of your ice cream, filled to the brim with all sorts of toppings because Jungkook said you could.

“You’re so lucky, I wish I had a boyfriend like that,” Jiyeon sighs, pouting her lips as she sulks.

Your face turns red, tip of your ears warm as you quickly deny, “He isn’t my boyfriend! Just a friend… In fact he was my brother’s friend first,” No, you couldn’t even begin to try and imagine Jungkook as someone more than your friend!

“Well, but you should definitely confess to him on valentine’s day, it’s in like six months,” Yuji twirls her hair, nudging your leg slightly as she giggled.

To the three of you, as 13 year old girls, having a valentine was a big deal, especially since the whole idea of a crush and all was new to you guys as teenage girls.

“No! I don’t have feelings for him! He’s just nice to me I guess,” You frown at Yuji, just because she confessed to her crush and now apparently has a boyfriend, doesn’t mean you need to do it too, you decided.

You didn’t have a crush on Jungkook right?

You push away the thought quickly, this whole topic was so taboo to you, it made you feel squirmy thinking about it. No, you didn’t have any sort of feelings towards the older boy, never.

-

So that day when you arrived back at home, spotting Jungkook and Taehyung sitting at the table and doing their homework, you decide to take a seat away from the certain boy.

“Huh? Why are you sitting all the way there? Come back here,” Jungkook hums, pulling out his earphones in bewilderment, you had always sat next to him whilst the three of you would do homework together after school, nudging him here and there to ask for help with a math problem.

“I- okay,” You scooch towards the chair next to him, dragging your books along the table as you avoid eye contact. Your cheeks heating up again as you remember your conversation with your friends in school earlier, it made you feel all tingly inside, but why were you being so weird in front of him?

“You’ve been staring at that math problem for ages, need help?”

You jump up in surprise at Jungkook’s voice , letting out a small yelp as your brother snickers at you from across the table, you kick his shin in response, sending his hands flailing to the injury, mumbling some cuss word you don’t understand.

“Yeah,” You only muster out a whisper, handing over your pencil to the boy, who finds your behaviour a little off but nonetheless, doesn’t comment on it.

And while he explains the solution and working to find the value of X, you can only notice his eyes, his nose, the mole under his lips, the scar on his cheek from when he fought with your brother years ago, his lips.

And then you for yourself to snap out of your daydream when his eyes lock with yours in confusion as to why you’re staring at him instead of your workbook.

03 January 2012

But then five months later, opportunity for valentine’s day didn’t even come for you anyways, as you pack your bags to move miles away from the place you once called home, since your father had been posted to a new country for his work.

The whole idea of leaving your life behind and all the people you’ve ever known since young was such an overwhelming feeling that you didn’t even think once about your feelings for Jungkook anymore, or maybe you did once, but it didn’t matter.

So when you tugged your luggage and watch your brother sadly hug his best friend goodbye at the airport, reality struck, you wouldn’t ever get a chance to even properly assess your feelings for Jungkook anyways, so you simply wave him goodbye, not looking back so you don’t think further than a goodbye.

He did make sure to exchange his Instagram and Facebook with you, promising you and your brother to keep in touch, which you agreed to. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to cling onto the idea of him, but you didn’t let yourself believe that anyways.

[pixiesfz]

invaded l.wm

plot: y/n moved from man city to Arsenal and one specific man is not happy about it.

warnings: violence, talks of a stalker, more of a arsenal x reader than a lotte x reader, blood etc

He was one of the main reasons you left Manchester city, his eyes that lingered on you when in the crowd.

When you first met him he seemed like a normal fan. He asked for a photo and challenged you to a rock paper scissors to secure your top, you noticed his anger when he lost but you gave him your jersey anyways to soften the blow.

He came to every game and yearned for your attention everytime, whenever you didn’t he would then wait outside in the parking lot.

At first you thought it was cute, you had never had such a big fan well that was until he started showing up outside of the field.

You were having a coffee with your mum when you heard the clicks of a camera, turning around you saw him, with his Man City scarf on taking photos of you and your mum.

You politely waved at him and he smiled. When he next showed up it was in the off season as you went to see your girlfriend Lotte.

“You alright love?” Lotte asked as you spotted him behind a tree, how did he know you were here “Lotte we need to go” you ordered as your heart sped up, he scared you “y/n-“ “now” you cut Lotte off as you grabbed her hand and ran to your car trying to ignore his pleas as he followed you.

He stopped for a month after that but maybe it was because you stopped going out as much, he was still at every man city game and still waited for you in the parking lot where you politely smiled and waved at the crowd but he took it as you were only waving at him.

Lotte had told you to try and get a restraining order but their had never been enough evidence to even try.

One day before you announced your transfer to Arsenal you saw him again but at your front door. You slammed the door before he could try and get in but it didn’t stop him.

He bashed his fists on the door “You’re leaving me!” He yelled “your betraying me like this?” He asked.

You pushed your weight on the door, tears falling down your eyes as you pulled out your phone to call Lotte.

“Hey y/n” she answered sweetly as you sniffed “he’s here” you whispered out “he’s where y/n?” Lotte asked and you could tell her by her voice that her heart had dropped.

“My house Lotte. He’s found my house!”

“I’m calling the police, can I hang up darling just for a little bit I will call right back” she told you and you closed your eyes “I love you” you whispered in fear

“Don’t talk like that y/n” he is not going to hurt you” she said and you shook your head “I’m scared” you admitted as his fists became louder

“You bitch! I saw you at the Arsenal training grounds, you’re leaving!” He shouted and Lotte’s face turned white from the loudness of his voice “y/n I’m going to call I’ll be back”

The beep of the phone call ending made you sob again, without Lotte’s voice calming you down you were in a forensic mess.

His voice was drowned out by your thoughts and you heard sirens wailing from nearby, he did too as his fists stopped.

“You’ll regret this” he finally stated before you heard him ruffling away.

You never felt safe fully after that whilst you played your last weeks at Man City, you scanned the crowds in fear and always walked to your car quickly after a match, sometimes having Lotte pick you up.

When your news about transferring came out rumours started to spiral, until an anonymous writer came out.

Y/n y/l/n moving to Arsenal because of stalker?!

You pressed on it right away as you laid on Lotte’s chest, photos of you on walks and at cafes, one of you in your home which you moved out of as quickly as you could.

He had took these photos and now he was sending them in to make profit, your privacy for his benefit.

‘We hope y/n is well before her move to Arsenal’ it ended with and you felt yourself snuggling to Lotte even more.

You had been with Arsenal for almost a month now and it was time you versed your old team. It was bittersweet.

You loved the girls on the team and they were now your on field enemies. Lotte was the captain of the game and you were proud of her.

But nothing could stop the weird feeling in your stomach, it made you nervous and your mind was racing.

You thought it would go away as you play but the feeling was still there.

You had subbed on for Beth for a fresh pair of legs on the field on the 64th minute and it wasn’t long before you started making an impact, high giving your girlfriend as you scored a goal agains Man City.

You hadn’t even checked for the man in the crowd as you now sported the red, you should’ve maybe you would’ve seen him and the state he was in.

His eyes were baggy and it was clear to anyone around him that he would be drinking but security weren’t the best for the women’s games so they gave no mind.

It was about the 75th minute he jumped the barrier, a beer bottle in his hand, he wore your old jersey you had given to him as he stormed over to you.

You had your back to him so you couldn’t see him but some of your team mates did and the audience as they boo’d at him in the crowds, thinking he was a trouble maker wanting his 5 seconds of fame.

You looked behind you out of curiousity before you locked eyes with the man, your heart dropped before he raised his arm which the glass bottle was held in and smashed it on your head.

You dropped instantly as he yelled “traitor!” And kicked you at the head.

You had been near the sidelines so the low number of security members latched onto him as he yelled out to you but you were unconscious, on the floor with blood pouring down your face.

Almost the whole field and Audience went quiet and the TV channels who were broadcasting were lost for words.

Medics were on you quick as Lotte tan over with tears in her eyes. She looked at you and towards the man who was tackled to the floor “that’s him!” She yelled and told the security to take him to the jail.

The blood on your face wasn’t going away as more blood from your forehead and your eye fell down.

“Lotte” you choked out and sue dropped to her knees and grabbed your hand “I’m here, I’m here” she told you and kissed your knuckles “I’m scared” you cried as the medics came back with the stretcher “he’s gone now” Lotte told you, tears running down her eyes at the sight of you.

The medics pulled you up and the whole stadium was silent, the Arsenal and City girls watching you with tears in their eyes.

The game stopped.

Lotte followed you to an ambulance and most girls quickly got into their cars to follow you, not bothering to change.

You only needed a few stitches but Lotte demanded for a plastic surgery, saying you would never forgive her if she let you have a big scar from your eye to your temple.

So she waited with her head in her arms, her bright yellow captains arm band tightening around her bicep as she was joined by both the arsenal and Man city team in the waiting room.

“She’s going to be fine” Leah told her England team mate and she nodded “I know it’s just she- she was so scared” Lotte sobbed as she leaned into her team mates embrace and cried.

Both of the teams waited for you to come out of surgery, on their phones as some read articles or watches the film clip multiple times in shock of what had happened.

Lotte saw it every time she closed her eyes, the way you had no idea of the danger running towards you, the way he moved so quick nobody could stop him before the action was done.

The TV was on in the corner as the news talked about what had happened to you. Lotte watched as the reporter talked about the lack of security and how they interviews some of the games watchers, some crying.

Two hours later a doctor came into the room, shocked to see so many players waiting to see your results.

“Y/n y/l/n?” She questioned and everyone’s head shot up “yes?” Lotte stood up and the nurse nodded “she’s awake now but I think it’s best if we send people in groups” she said and Lotte let out a sigh of relief.

“You go first” Alanna said from her seat in the corner to Lotte and she nodded and walked behind the Nurse who took her to your room.

Your stitches looked oily from the numbing cream that they had lathered on top of the stitches. You don’t say anything, your eyes stuck to the ceiling.

“Why me?” You breathed out and Lotte grabbed your hand

“I don’t know baby” she replied and you looked at her, your eyes were blood shot “did they get him?” You asked and she nodded “he is behind bars and the court is allowing us to ask for a restraining order, he’s already not allowed to attend a soccer game ever again” she said and you nodded.

“Do I look as bad as I feel?” You asked and Lotte let out a little laugh “Do you really think I care about what you look like?”

“No but I care what I look like” you smiled and Lotte kissed your hand “you look beautiful, just like you always do”

You smiled “is it just you here?” You asked and Lotte scoffed “uhm actually” she started and went to the window and opened the blind which revealed the waiting room.

“Oh wow” you breathed out seeing both of your teams sitting down in the uncomfortable chairs.

“Maybe send in my national team mates, they’re most likely to tell me if I look ugly or not” you joked and your girlfriend rolled her eyes playfully at your comment.

“Actually almost all your national team mates are here” she breathed out before walking out to collect them.

When half of the Matilda’s team walked in Caitlin scoffed

“You just had to one up me from the World Cup didnt ya”

The whole room laughed at her before she laid on the bed and cuddled into your side.

“Well this will be a fun story to tell in a couple of years” you joked and your team mates laughed.

You smiled as you looked around, Lotte chating to your team mates with a smile as you cuddled into some of your younger players “I was so worried” Kyra told you and you shook your head.

“Takes a lot to take me down chicken”

[kingofbodyrolls]

End of the World (m) | myg | teaser

→ Summary: Your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise?  → Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Genres/AUs: science fiction, apocalyptic, survival, co-dependency to stay alive + heavy angst, fluff and smut. → Tropes: strangers to lovers, forced proximity (because love that shit) → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: still writing (approx 10-20k) it’s a one-shot! → Author’s note: hiya. I’m currently writing this apocalyptic story with Yoongi, because… well. I’m fucking scared. So this is me working through and with my fear for something that I’m afraid is actually going to happen. We don’t need to talk about it, because a lot of bad shit is happening all over the world 😭 This is purely a story, though made up by my fears, yeah. Anyway, it’s okay if you’re not into it! The vibe for it is like The Last of Us and maybe a bit Fallout, I think if you enjoy that type of stuff, you’ll enjoy this one too. But it’s really heavy, but there’s a decent amount of fluff to balance it out, because, it’s still a fanfiction and it wouldn’t be that without some good old fluff and smut 🥰

You know you must move, but before you leave, there’s a promise to fulfill for Yuri.

You relieve yourself and step back onto the road, eyes fixed on the distant horizon that seems miraculously untouched by the ravages of war. That glimmer of hope pulls you forward. You have to reach it. No matter the distance, no matter the obstacles, you must get there. 

It’s your only chance.

You walk and walk—days blur into weeks. Your clothes hang off your frame, tattered and too big. Bombings have become a constant backdrop, each explosion a distant rumble you barely acknowledge. The earth’s violent shudders no longer faze you. Hunger gnaws at you, a relentless companion, its grip tightening until you can’t even remember your last meal. Water, your only steadfast ally, has kept you moving; without it, you’d have long since fallen.

You trudge along the desolate highway, the city a distant speck on the horizon behind you. You have no sense of how far you’ve traveled, only that the remnants of your home have shrunk to a mere dot in your vision. The road stretches endlessly ahead, a bleak reminder of the ground yet to cover.

Dizziness is your constant companion now, your throat as parched as the Sahara despite your efforts to hydrate. Water is scarce, and you’ve been rationing it for days. Hope feels like a distant memory, and though the elusive horizon you’ve been chasing for weeks appears closer, it still seems maddeningly out of reach.

Your body feels like lead, your feet swollen and throbbing with every step. 

Sleep is a distant memory, haunted away by visions of blood-streaked faces, final breaths, and echoing cries. Bloodshot eyes and a disheveled appearance mark your struggle; you’re still in your tattered nightdress, stained with blood and reeking of fear and sweat. 

No food, no shower, just the relentless march through this wasteland.

You’ve lost track of time—is it still September? 

The biting cold cuts through you, your torn and ruined shoes barely offering any protection. You trudge onward, desperate to find shelter, weary of hiding in the bushes from strangers who might wish you harm. Paranoia grips you; every rustle in the distance, every shadow makes you jump. Trust is a luxury you can’t afford. You feel like you’re unraveling, teetering on the edge of sanity.

When your eyes land on a solitary house down a side street off the main road, you can hardly believe it. You’re nowhere near your end goal, the neighboring city, yet here it is—a lonesome house in the middle of fucking nowhere. You chuckle, convinced you’ve lost your mind. Why would there be a house out here, untouched by the chaos? You blink repeatedly, but the house remains. Your feet carry you forward, despite your spinning head and the jumbled mess of thoughts in your mind.

The house, partially concealed by tall trees and lush bushes miraculously untouched by the war, seems like a relic from a forgotten world. An old jeep, battered but intact, sits beside the porch with its white picket fence. You approach cautiously, every step feeling surreal, and lift your hand to knock. Your bloody knuckles leave crimson smears on the pristine white door, a stark reminder of the nightmare you can’t escape.

You lose track of time standing there, every second stretching into an eternity, before the door is abruptly ripped open. You find yourself staring down the barrel of a rifle.

“Who are you?” a male voice demands, harsh and suspicious, but the words barely register. Your vision blurs, darkness encroaching, and the last thing you feel is the hard impact of the porch floorboards against your head as you collapse.

→ Do you want to join Yoongi on a quest for survival as the world crumbles around you? Let me know and I’ll tag you when it drops 💜

Also please let me know if you’re interested, excited about it— otherwise I’m probably just gonna post it on my ao3 only, lol. I’m scared 🫣

Read the second teaser + book cover [here]!

It's been posted!!!!

[jinkicake]

After A Long Night... 

He returns home to you. 

Diluc, Kaeya, Ayato, Xiao x Reader

A/N: I originally wrote this for my beloved Kaeya and then i did the same for Xiao and then Diluc and surprise, Ayato. Anyway,,,, i need fluff and all things sweet. forgive me! this might be my fav fluff... i think im getting better at it! 

WC - 2.2k

~~~

Diluc R.

When it comes to his everyday life, Diluc doesn’t regret it very much. The young tycoon owner knows exactly what role he has to play and what needs to get done. 

Despite his strong resolve and fortitude, it still physically pains his sensitive heart to be away from you. 

Diluc knows how lucky he is to have you, he’s aware of the fact all too well. He cherishes you and loves you day in and day out, spoiling you rotten in the hopes that his actions will convey his own intimate feelings for you. Somedays he worries that his double life will be too much for your kind soul to handle. 

If you were to disappear from his life, the winery owner fears he would never see light in his own dark world again. 

He tries his best to return from his nightly missions at a reasonable time, just when the moon is descending from its peak position. There is nothing more Diluc looks forward to than you asleep in his bed. Knowing that he gets to hold you in his arms and rest is what gets the man through each day. 

Although he can’t stand the teasing from his brother, Diluc is a sap for you and everyone knows it. He’s not ashamed of it. 

His love for you is what carries him quietly through the house once he locks the main doors of the large home. Diluc checks to make sure all doors and windows are locked before quietly taking off his external accessories, hanging them by the door to his office, and then finally making his way to your shared bedroom. 

At the sight of you asleep in his bed, messily splayed out (because you can never get comfortable without him), Diluc sighs. He tugs at the loose ponytail holding his hair up and lets his fiery strands run freely against his back. Most nights, he would brush his hair and maybe apply some oil to the ends but all Diluc can focus on now is you. 

He happily sneaks under the covers and carefully presses his body into yours. The way you melt into his embrace is almost instant. Diluc softly kisses your temple before moving his arm to wrap around your waist. Gently, he squeezes you in his hold and runs his nose along your jaw. 

“My love,” He can’t help but murmur against your skin, sometimes it becomes too hard to fight the hold you have over him. However, the moment you begin to stir, Diluc freezes. There’s nothing he hates more than waking you up, knowing how highly you value your sleep. It’s as if an internal alarm is ringing in his mind and Diluc all but holds his breath as your fingers tighten against his hold. 

“Diluc?” Your sleepy tone melts into a whine as you shift and turn on your side to press your face into his chest. “When did you get back?”

The large man couldn’t pretend to be asleep even if he tried. 

Diluc kisses your temple again. 

“Not too long ago,” His comforting voice, deep and kind nearly lulls you back to sleep. It’s hard fighting fatigue when you’re in his arms. “go back to bed.” When you look up at him and Diluc sees the pout on your face, he doesn’t hesitate to kiss it off. 

“We can talk in the morning, dearest. I promise.”

Kaeya A.

Most nights, Kaeya prefers a drink. He often works late and into the evening so one of the only things that provide him with a sense of pleasure is the tart fruity taste of wine on his tongue. 

Every night before he sets out in search of a bar, he finds his way back home to you. Regardless of his alcoholic desires, there’s something special about sharing extra time with you in the evening. Sometimes, the captain finds himself skipping the drinks and staying inside to enjoy your loving embrace. 

Tonight is no different than his other nights. Kaeya is caught up in work, having to check through documents and give them a seal of approval, and he finishes his tasks late. It’s nearly so late that the bars are almost closed and the moon is high up in the night sky. 

For once, closed bars are not a concern to Kaeya because when he is most exhausted he always searches for you. He always returns to you.

“Oh, my love,” Kaeya’s quiet coo does not reach your ears from where he stands in the doorway to your apartment. The cavalry captain is extremely careful as he maneuvers the space and makes sure to be extremely quiet as he shuts and locks the door. He slips off his shoes and places his keys on a hook against the wall before making his way over to you. 

Kaeya loves to watch you sleep. You’re completely angelic and the sight always makes him feel as if he has been punched in the gut, he’s absolutely winded by your beauty every single time. He can’t help but reach out and brush his cold knuckles against your soft cheek. 

In the morning, he’ll have to chide you for falling asleep at the table but he knows this wouldn’t have happened if he came home earlier. It’s more his fault than it is yours, he can never find a flaw in you. In his eyes, you can do no wrong.

Keeping his touch light and soft, Kaeya cups your shoulders before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. His lips turn incredibly warm at the feeling of your skin and Kaeya attempts to fight off the flush he is feeling. You aren’t even awake and you’re still making the man flustered. 

When you lightly begin to stir in your sleep, Kaeya only places more kisses along your face. He pecks your cheek and then your nose before gracing your forehead again. 

“Hello, angel,” He whispers against your temple before leaving his lips glued to the spot. You grumble at him, just as he expected, before trying to rub the sleep from your eyes. 

“Kaeya,” Your quiet whisper makes his heart skip a beat and any fatigue he was feeling earlier in the night is nearly washed away by your voice. The way your eyes flicker over his features, darting from his eye to his lips makes the captain burn up inside. You’ve always been so shy with him. “how was work?”

“Dull, boring, slow.” He answers as he gently tugs on your wrist, pulling you up from your chair. There is no fight in you as Kaeya leads you toward your bedroom. “However, I did hear new speculations about Donna’s love life. Lisa spoils me whenever I drop off a book on time, would you like to hear about it?”

By the knowing smile on your face, as you fall into bed with Kaeya in hot pursuit, it’s going to be another evening where you both talk through the night. 

K. Ayato

Ayato hates being away from you. He detests impending work and having to be locked away in his office for days on end, running on little sleep, just to see that deadlines are met. The thought of you alone in your shared room with your lone futon spread on the floor makes his heart ache.

For the last couple of days, Ayato has been in a time crunch. He has to get some official documents between two clans under wraps before their political marriage or the entire relationship will be in shambles. The task itself is not hard but, it is incredibly tedious.

When all Ayato wants to do is spend some time with his beloved, small pesky tasks become the bane of his existence.

“Would you like some tea, my lord?” Thoma’s gentle knock on the sliding door reminds Ayato to stay focused, that he still has work to finish.

“There is no need for that, Thoma. I’m almost finished up, please get some rest.”

As Thoma excuses himself for the evening, the head of the Kamisato clan smiles knowing that he can continue working at night knowing he has such formidable people beside him. Ayato thumbs through the documents again and mulls over the agreements two more times. He ensures that each of the bargains balances out the other before stacking the papers in a neat pile.

One more time, he will go over each and make sure that they’re in proper order and format.

When the mind-numbing task is complete, Ayato places the documents in the bin on his desk for it to be carried out in the morning. He stands tall from his low workstation and stretches until a satisfying pop reaches his ears.

It’s now early in the morning with the sun sure to rise in just another few hours. Ayato wastes no time in making a quick trip to your bedroom. He is silent in his steps as he presses against the hardwood of the floors and slides open your door.

He could almost sigh at the sight of you curled up and deep in sleep. Ayato makes quick work of closing the door and then kneels beside you, he lifts your hands up to his face so that he can kiss the inside of your wrist. In his own way, it’s like a silent apology for making you spend the last few nights alone.

Ayato doesn’t even bother himself with getting into his own futon, neatly made and laid out since earlier in the night. He settles in right beside you and squeezes into the tight space. With his long arms, he wraps them around your torso before tracing your hip.

Kiss after kiss, he places soft pecks of his lips underneath your ear. He doesn’t mean to wake you and he certainly doesn’t want to but, he just can’t keep his hands off of you.

Luckily for him, you are a heavy sleeper.

Fatigue finds the commissioner easily and he shuts his eyes to try and catch a break from the feeling. In your touch, Ayato finds himself at ease. Relaxation is of second nature to him and it is all because of you.

“Thank you, darling,” He sweetly kisses your ear before melting into the sheets, slumber is sure to find him just as it had found you.

Xiao

Xiao doesn’t often feel fatigued. There are some nights when he almost wishes something new would happen in his monotonous battle of protecting Liyue but, he doesn’t get tired of it. 

Well, in the past, Xiao did not get burned out so easily.

The adeptus thinks you’re partly to blame if he could ever find a fault in your character. You’ve got him in some sort of routine. 

In the past, Xiao would stay out until the sun came up patrolling one area before moving on to another. It was a cycle that he would consistently keep up with day in and day out. 

The schedule he has now is a little different. Instead of clashing with hostile creatures throughout the night, he finds himself before your door once the moon peaks past the highest point in the starry sky. Xiao is still adamant about protecting Liyue but, he also prides himself on making you happy too. 

He doesn’t understand why his heart tugs in his chest at a certain point during the night every single day. It’s a tug that demands him to return home, to find his spot in your bed and hold you in his arms until you stir awake and kiss his fingers. 

Xiao melts whenever you pamper him, it makes him feel less alone. 

Like most nights since your entry into his life, tonight is not so different. Xiao finishes his duties once the moon reaches high into the sky and when his heart starts to become impatient, he finds himself outside of your window with simple teleportation.  

The adeptus tries to remember that he has a key and walks around to your door to quietly unlock your apartment. He places his staff beside your coat rack and takes off his shoes, dropping his mask on the nearby table, after he locks the door and ensures that it is shut. Your apartment is small and cozy and Xiao focused his eyes on you as soon as he walks into your bedroom. 

It’s not a surprise that you’re asleep, but Xiao softly gasps when he reaches the foot of your bed. Whenever he is in your presence the eternal ache that he feels starts to dull. The sharp pain in the ends of his fingertips and the tips of his ears become numb. For a mortal, Xiao considers you to be quite special. 

He doesn’t say anything as he softly gets into your bed and gently lifts up the covers to get beside you. The adeptus can’t help himself from touching you as soon as you are within his reach. Almost immediately, Xiao wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. He remains quiet as he buries his face into your neck but, his heart leaps at the feeling of your stirring awake. 

The man hates to wake you, he truly does, but the feeling of your hand reaching for his own is something Xiao will never get tired of. 

“Welcome home,” Your sleepy tone and sweet whisper keep him grounded and alive each day. The way you kiss his knuckles soothes all the aches the adeptus has ever felt. “I missed you.”

[worldlxvlys]

my eyes only (part 6)

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: cursing

a/n: hope you enjoy <33

previous part

CHRIS’S POV

what the hell am i doing ?

i just climbed out of her window like a teenage boy.

i needed to get out of there. all i could think about since she went to talk to charlie was what she said, “he’s convinced that you’re in love with me.”

the words themselves aren’t what freaked me out, so much as the fact that they were true.

of course they were true, who wouldn’t fall in love with her?

i loved her so much that it scared me. i was so dependent on her, i don’t know what i’d do without her.

i’ve known that i had feelings for her for a while, and i was even set to confess them to her right before her and charlie got together.

the words were on the tip of my tongue, but i chickened out at the last minute.

because at the end of the day, i’d rather be her friend and in pain than completely lose her.

i refuse to lose her. i have not gone through years of pining for her just to fuck it up now.

and, i will admit, fucking her and sneaking out of the window ? not my best move.

but i panicked in the moment, and resorted to what i do best, running from my problems.

it was too late to go back once i snuck out, but i was going to do everything in my power to fix it.

hence, the reason i was trudging through the rain towards the local plaza that was the perfect walking distance from her house.

i’m not fucking up this time.

READER’S POV

it had been an hour since chris left. i had no way to contact him, because he managed to forget his phone in my room.

him not having any way to communicate with anyone worried me, as he had no way to ask anyone for a ride home.

i had decided i was going to drive around and see if i could find him, just to make sure he was safe.

i grabbed my phone and his, along with my car keys and stepped out into the pouring rain.

i locked my door behind me and started to make my way down my drive way to my car, but stopped halfway when i spotted chris already there.

his hair was soaking wet, his once light grey hoodie now a darker hue as it was saturated in rain.

he held a giant bouquet of flowers in his left hand, a plastic bag hanging from his right.

“chris” i breathed out, as i walked towards him.

“you scared the shit out of me” i yelled over the rain, watching as his eyes widened.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have left like that. i just got overwhelmed and i didn’t even think before i left”

he placed the flowers down on the hood of my car, freeing his hand.

he moved my hair out of my face, cupping my cheek.

“i just- i’m in love with you” he spoke as he swallowed harshly.

my eyes widened at his confession, and my heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest.

his cheeks and nose were red due to the cold rain dripping down his face.

“and i’m scared. i don’t want to do anything to fuck up our relationship, because i need you in my life. i’d never forgive myself for scaring you away” his eyes bounced back and forth between mine and my head began to spin under his intense gaze.

“and watching the way charlie treated you for so long killed me. but i’d go through that a hundred more times if it meant having you in my life. because then, at least i’d be here to take care of you. that’s all i ever want to do, for the rest of my life. i just wanna be here for you and look out for you.”

“and if i’m freaking you out we can pretend like this never happened, but please don’t run away. i can’t lose you, i need you” he spoke with certainty, like he knew for a fact that he couldn’t live without me.

“please say something” he whispered.

i continued to stare at him in shock, trying to process the fact that i wasn’t dreaming.

this was the moment that i’d been waiting for for years.

i spent so long wishing that chris would long for me the way that i did him.

and here he stood, in front of me in the pouring rain, telling me what i’ve been trying to muster up the courage to tell him.

it’s like i was living the life of a main character in a romance novel.

like the movie scene that every teenage girl dreams that she’ll find herself in.

it felt so surreal, i couldn’t even think of the right words to say.

so instead of speaking, i did the next best thing.

i grabbed the bottom of his hoodie, bunching it up and using it to pull his lips to mine.

this kiss was different than any of the other ones we’d shared, even a few hours ago.

every unspoken emotion that we shoved down and were too scared to express, was poured into the kiss.

it was almost like we were starting over.

the rain washed away every feeling of sadness and pain that we had previously experienced.

the kiss introduced us to the happiness, love, and passion that we had to look forward to.

it was always there, but sometimes it was easy for the negative feelings to overpower and bury them.

he dropped the bag that he was holding, snaking his hand around my waist.

i tilted my head, deepening the kiss as our lips moved against each others.

i silently prayed that he couldn’t hear the uncontrollable pace that my heart was beating at.

his wet fingertips grazed my jawline, making me shudder against him.

despite the coolness of his skin, every touch to my waist seemed to make my skin heat up.

when we finally needed air, we pulled away from each other.

my eyes were still closed as my swollen lips tingled, aching for the touch of his again.

chris moved in again, pressing his lips to mine tenderly, making me laugh.

i pulled away slightly, prompting his lips to follow mine.

before he could kiss me again, though, i spoke up,” i love you too” i whispered.

“and i have for years. my relationship with charlie was a sad attempt at getting over you” i said, making him chuckle at me.

“you’re the only person i’ll ever want, chris. it’s just you. and i’m not going anywhere, ok? you have me” i said as i smiled up at him.

a wide smile broke onto his face as he pulled me in for another kiss.

suddenly remembering something, i pulled away from him.

“hey, did you know that a rain kiss is on my bucket list ?” i asked excitedly.

“i know” he smiled at me before pulling me in again.

MY EYES ONLY ->

🌀🌀🌀🌀

this is literally based on @hearts4chriss + chris’s love story, i be taking notes when she tells me abt it 😝

main masterlist

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[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 13 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica's fraternity fundraiser is the most popular event during alumni weekend. While that should be enough to guarantee she's smiling all night, an unwanted guest turns up to make sure that doesn't happen. Jake is set on taking care of her, but he desperately wants her to open up.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of smut, angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, frat boys, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

"Come on, Hangman," Bradley grunted. "You're acting like you've never been to a frat party before."

Jake watched him adjusting the keg of beer in the enormous tub of ice on the back porch of the fraternity house. "We're supposed to carry this inside?" Jake balked. "Why? It's going to make a mess."

"Jesus Christ, Jake. You need beer to play beer pong."

"We played it with champagne at your house on New Year's Eve," he countered, just to irritate Bradshaw. 

"Yeah, and it low key pissed off my wife. Just help me carry this inside before both of them get mad at us."

He and Jake struggled with the keg and dropped it off in the back hallway where the exceptionally nerdy looking frat boys would be able to access it to fill up the crystal cups between rounds. In fact, one of them was coming over now, all dressed up in his tuxedo. 

"Excuse me, sir. Can you help me move some of the ping pong tables?"

Bradley looked absolutely disgusted as he said, "Only if you stop calling me sir." Bradley went off to help him while Jake found Jessica in the kitchen going over the menus with the culinary students. She looked gorgeous, and he wanted to get his hands on her, but there was a soft crease between her eyebrows that told Jake she was starting to stress. 

"What can I do?" he asked when she glanced his way.

"Can you check to make sure you can hear the string quartet everywhere?" she asked him. "Everyone should start arriving in about ten minutes."

"Of course." Jake walked around the entire downstairs of the sprawling Victorian house, and after a minute he realized the quartet was playing Hot In Herre by Nelly. Not only could he hear it everywhere, it also sounded incredible, and he had to fight the urge to start dancing. 

When he walked into the main living room, Bradshaw and his wife had their backs to him while they threw a few test shots at one of the tables. Jake had to appreciate the juxtaposition that Jessica had achieved here. It was an elevated college experience for adults. 

"Let's try this out," Bradshaw mumbled, stretching like he was about to compete in an event at the actual olympics. "I honestly don't love that Jess didn't go regulation with solo cups," he complained, aiming at the crystal glassware lined up at the far end of the table. 

His wife wrapped her arms around him and said, "Come on, Beer Boy. You can do it."

"Not with you hanging all over me, I can't," he said, but in such a loving way that Jake rolled his eyes. Bradshaw was soft and sweet for literally nobody but his wife. 

"You never once complained about that when we were in college," she mused, kissing the side of his neck when her eyes met Jake's. "Oh look. Another fuckboy."

Jake laughed in response and made his way over to her as the fraternity boys ran around and started pouring glasses of champagne for everyone who was about to arrive. "What did you call me?"

"You heard me," she replied with a grin while her husband made two shots in a row, the pinging of the balls against the crystal making a satisfying sound. "We should play later as long as everything is going smoothly. Fuckboys versus hot ladies."

"Hot, smart ladies," Bradshaw said as he made another shot. Jake got his ass kicked by the two of them on New Year's Eve, but he was more confident he could win with Rooster as his teammate. 

"Here you go, sir," the nerdiest of the boys told Bradley, offering up the champagne flutes on the tray. He growled and snatched one up before handing it to his wife at the same time Jake caught sight of his girlfriend in the kitchen with another guy's arms wrapped around her. 

"What the fuck." He wove around the tables and ducked through the doorway where Jessica was laughing with an extremely attractive man in a purple suit that somehow didn't even look hideous on him. And then she gave him another quick hug before releasing him.

"As soon as you invited me, I dropped everything," the other guy said. "It's not every day you get a chance to look at the beautiful Jessica Reed."

"Stop it, Dev. You're being too sweet. I already can't thank you enough for all the beer."

Perhaps the most disturbing thing was the fact that Jessica looked calmer in the presence of this Dev guy that she had for the past hour, and that didn't even account for the way he was looking at her. Jake cleared his throat loudly. 

"Jake! Come meet Dev Borah!"

When they clasped hands, Jake tried his best at an intimidating handshake, but Dev looked completely unfazed by it. Then he said, "I've heard a lot about you from Bradley. Aren't you the guy who tried to pick up his wife before you realized they were dating?"

Okay. Jake officially hated this guy. He could feel himself blushing, and Jessica was looking up at him with wide eyes. He didn't try to pick up Bradshaw's wife when he met her. Not exactly. He'd put his foot in his mouth a little bit that day last year, but not to the extent Dev was making it out to be. 

"I get it though," he told Jake. "She's beautiful. But so is Jessica. You're very lucky." He slapped Jake on the back before he said, "I just need to run out to my Porsche and grab those gift cards for the silent auction. I'll be right back, Jess."

"I swear I didn't try to pick her up," Jake insisted as soon as he was gone, but Jessica was already laughing at him. 

"She's hot. I get it," she replied as she hugged him. "And I'm sure Dev just wanted to give you a hard time."

Jake rolled his eyes as she tucked her head under his chin. "Are you all set, Baby? I think people are starting to arrive."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

-----------------------

An hour later, Jessica was pleasantly surprised. The Kappa Pi house was completely packed. It almost felt like a real frat party, but the partygoers ranged in age from thirty to seventy. They'd already gone through countless bottles of champagne and one of the kegs of beer from Beta Brewing. Jake and Bradley were carrying another iced keg inside to the back hallway where the empty one sat. 

"Thank you," she told Bradley who was flushed from whatever he was drinking. He immediately returned to dance with his wife to the string quartet playing Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg. She'd received so many compliments on the music selection, and everyone was gushing about how delicious the beer was. She just sent the trays of food out of the kitchen, and now the beer pong tournament was underway. 

"You're killing it, Reedy," Jake whispered next to her ear before kissing her. "You got this frat thing on lock." Her heart swelled with pride at his words. Then a tall man in a tuxedo strolled her way with a champagne flute in one hand and a glass of beer in the other. 

"Are you Dr. Reed?" he asked over the noisy crowd and the music. 

"Yes," she replied as he shuffled his drinks so he could shake her hand.

"Dr. Gregory Michaels. I just wanted to let you know that I've been coming to alumni weekends for thirty years, and I was a member of Kappa Pi. In fact, I lived in this house my senior year."

"Did you really?" she asked as he smiled and looked around. 

"It feels exactly the same," he told her with a laugh, and she turned to smile at Jake. "I also wanted to let you know that this is by far the best and most entertaining event I've ever attended. My wife is playing beer pong for the first time with a guy in a backwards hat, and I've never seen her have so much fun. I'll be sure to mention this to Dean Walters when he and I have our next golf outing."

"You know Dean Walters?" she asked, her knees nearly giving out. The dean was like four steps above Brian Conley. There was no way Brian would be able to be a complete dick about her tenure if she had the damn dean on her side. 

"I don't just know him. I used to be his math tutor when we were undergrads together. I'll put in a good word."

When he turned and walked away, Jessica giggled and jumped up and down before she took Jake by the hand and led him away from the kegs. "He knows the dean," she hissed as she pushed her way through the back door. "He's putting in a good word."

"You deserve it," he replied in the relative darkness of the back porch as Jessica pushed his back up against the exterior of the house. He smirked as she came to stand between his legs and kissed him. "You deserve everything."

Jake's hands were on her hips, bunching her dress up inch by inch until he slipped his warm hand inside the slit. He wrapped his hand around her thigh, caressing her with his thumb as he pulled her snug against his body. 

"Who's going to give it to me?" she whispered against his lips. "You?"

He moaned as he palmed her ass. "Yeah, I'll give you everything." Then she laced her fingers through his hair and rubbed herself slowly back and forth along his suit pants as he groaned into her mouth. "Jessica." His voice had a pleading quality as he grew a little harder for her. She felt good right now. Almost powerful. "Baby, please." 

As Jessica dragged her right hand down along his body to his pants zipper, Jake's head tipped back. "You think anyone will notice me on my knees?" she asked teasingly as she pulled his zipper down. 

"Fuck," he whined, but just as she got her hand wrapped around him through his underwear, she heard someone calling her name from inside the house.

"Dev's looking for me," she said, kissing his jaw.

"Well I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't love it if he found you with your hand in my pants."

Jessica giggled. "Just hold that thought for later tonight." She got him zipped up again, and when Dev popped out on the porch and found her, she was kissing Jake, but in a much less compromising position. 

"I need you to verify the silent auction winners," Dev told her. "And then I need you to have a glass of champagne with me."

Jake grunted, but Jessica squeezed his hand to silence him. "Coming, Dev," she told him before turning back to Jake. "Let me check on everything, and then just maybe we'll have a minute to play a game of beer pong. I'll meet you in there."

And then she placed one more filthy kiss on Jake's lips before going inside.

-------------------------

Jake sipped his champagne while the crowd around him seemed to move in unison to the cover of Jay-Z that the quartet was playing. It looked like everyone was having a great night, and Bradshaw was no exception as he taught a woman who was easily twice his age how to play beer pong. 

"You need a partner?" 

Jake turned to see a young woman eyeing him up and down with a hopeful smile. Damn. A few months ago, he'd have said yes. And he would have probably ended up sleeping with her either here or back at his condo before kicking her out in the morning. 

"I'm here with my girlfriend." He walked to the other side of the table where Bradshaw's wife was dancing with her own champagne flute. "This whole thing seems successful, right?" he asked.

"Very," she replied. "Look at everyone! That guy's like eighty years old! He's also a huge donor to the college, and he's dancing like nobody's watching."

Jake cracked up. "Meanwhile, everyone is watching." But she was right. Everybody was rocking their formal wear while tossing ping pong balls like there was no tomorrow as the night wore on. 

Then Jessica and Dev emerged from the kitchen, and she came right for him. "Jake, I'm freaking out. I got an email that said I sold all of the tickets available for tonight. And, the items in the silent auction went for a ton of money!"

"I'm not surprised," he replied, pulling her close to his side. "Not one bit. Congratulations."

"You're up!" Bradshaw called out. "Get your ass to the other side of the table, Reed. Hangman, you're with me." Then he kissed his wife, "Get down there with Jessica, Sugar."

"You're about to lose so fucking hard, Beer Boy."

The crowd had started to thin out now, and Jake watched the fraternity boys clean off the table and set up fresh glasses filled with overpriced beer for them. "Ladies first," Jake said, rolling the balls to their end of the table. And that was when he learned that not only was he nowhere near as good as Rooster and his wife, he was also terrible compared to Jessica.

After the ladies sunk both of their shots, Bradley said, "I hope you're ready to drink." And then when Jake missed his first shot, he got a glare in response. "How are you this bad? You went to college."

"I didn't play beer pong. I was busy making out with girls."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "I managed to do both at the same time very successfully. Isn't that right, Sugar?"

She responded by making another shot followed by Jessica. "Shit," Jake muttered. 

"Can we switch partners?" Bradley whined. He tried to walk to the other end of the table as he drank his beer, but his wife just pushed him right back to Jake. 

"It's not our fault we're exceptionally good at math," she said before returning to Jessica's side. 

"Come on, Jake!" his girlfriend cheered. "You can do it!"

But he missed again. It was almost comical how easily the ladies won, and they only had to drink one glass of beer toward the end of the match. Bradshaw's wife danced around while she drank it, and then Jessica made the final shot. 

"I taught her everything she knows!" Bradley shouted as he made his way back to their end. "My wife is a badass."

Jessica was laughing as she ran around the table toward Jake. "You're terrible. Do you need lessons?" she asked sweetly. 

"Lessons from you?" he asked, kissing her hard. "Sign me up." But then his gaze caught on the one person he knew could ruin her night and would absolutely love to do it. 

-----------------------

When Jake started easing himself away from her and rubbing his hand along her back, Jessica looked up at him. "I'll gladly teach you how to suck less at beer pong. Actually... I wonder if I could turn it into a physics lecture topic," she mused. 

"Baby, he's here."

Jessica spun around so fast, she had to fix her glasses as she set eyes on an irate looking Brian Conley. "We need to talk," he told her with his hands on his hips like she was a small child.

"About what?" she bit back, already feeling her body tensing up as Jake, Bradley and his wife stood at her back. 

Brian was looking around the room in annoyance at the handful of alumni guests still playing beer pong and hanging out. The string quartet sounded louder now as the house had emptied out a bit, and the song was suddenly grating on her nerves. 

"Meet me in the kitchen," Brian growled, storming off toward the back of the house. 

Jake's hand was on hers immediately. "You don't have to talk to him right now, Jessica. Tell him to schedule a meeting for next week."

But she shook her head. "I'll be right back." 

She passed Dev in the hallway, and he looked handsome and happy as always. "I need to get going, but cheers to a successful fundraiser. Call me if you want to come up to Beta. You can even bring your boyfriend. I guess." His smile was bright, but she had to force one in return. 

"Thanks for everything, Dev." And as soon as she was alone in the kitchen with Brian, her smile vanished. "What can I help you with?" she asked him, swiping her sweaty palms on her pretty green dress.

He shook his head at her like she was something to be pitied. "You know... I spent all evening working through the numbers, trying to come up with a total amount of money raised through the science department for alumni weekend. And while your numbers seemed to look pretty good, you didn't account for the astronomical amount you wasted on kegs of this designer beer. And when I show up here to question you about it, you're practically drunk and playing the games you set up for paying guests."

Jessica's jaw dropped. "I'm not drunk! I haven't had anything to drink all night!" Brian rolled his eyes. "And I played one round of beer pong with my friends. If you hadn't noticed the event is ending now. It's nearly midnight."

Brian laughed. "You think someone from the math department is your friend? Jessica. You're delusional."

"Call me Dr. Reed," she ground out, fists clenched at her sides as tears stung her eyes. "And I'm not delusional."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Everyone in the science and math departments believes you're nothing but a slut, and I can guarantee your friend falls into that category." She started shaking as he added, "Now tell me how much you spent on the beer so I can deduct it from the profits of your event."

"I didn't spend anything!" she nearly screamed, frustrated beyond belief and tired of being belittled. "It was donated!"

Brian's laughter filled the space, bouncing off of the stainless steel appliances and tiled floor. "Donated? By whom?"

"The owner of the brewery!" she nearly screamed. "He donated things for the silent auction, too."

His gaze bore into her face as a look of disgust filled his features. "Jesus Christ, Dr. Reed. You got thousands of dollars worth of goods donated to you by the brewery owner? How many men are you sleeping with?"

Jessica's face fell further, and she had a hard time swallowing. "I'm not," she whispered, fingers going numb as her fists shook. "I didn't."

"You're so unprofessional. And you expect me to give you tenure? On what basis? You can't even get through an alumni event without fucking up and making yourself look bad."

"On the basis that I'm great at my job!" she shouted. But her voice shook on the last word, and she was mortified that she was about to cry in front of him. There was no hope. The tears were right there. And as her jaw quivered, she felt the first tear roll down her cheek.

"You're a damn joke," he replied maliciously, but then she felt a warm hand on her back between her shoulder blades. 

"What the fuck is your problem, asshole?" Jessica turned to her right to see Advanced Calculus in the kitchen, steadying her with her firm hand. "You think you're so slick, but you're not smarter than us. Where's your PhD from again? The University of Jackass online?"

"This has nothing to do with you," Brian told her, face stony. "Now if you don't mind, we're having a private conversation."

The other woman laughed. "It's no longer private when I can hear you berating Dr. Reed in the next room."

Brian seemed to fumble for a response as he said, "This is none of your business."

Jessica was shaking as Advanced Calculus said, "Actually, you made it everybody's business by telling lies and starting rumors, Dr. Conley. This is a university, not a sleepaway camp."

Brian took a step closer to her and hissed, "Do not think for one second that I can't fuck with your career path, too."

But she just smiled and inched even closer as she loudly said, "You're not in charge of my tenure."

Then Bradley was in the kitchen, too. His wife wrapped her arm around Jessica's shoulders as Bradley went chest to chest with Brian, towering over him. "Why the fuck are you talking to my wife that way? Huh?"

Brian sputtered for a response, but Jessica could barely breathe. It felt good to have people in her corner for once, but now she was terrified that Bradley was going to punch Brian. 

"I asked you a question," Bradley growled before he turned to his wife. "What's this guy's problem, Sugar?"

Jessica would have laughed if she wasn't already crying when her friend said, "I think he got his PhD online."

And then Jake was there, head on a swivel as he surveyed the situation and saw a few more stray tears slip down Jessica's cheeks. "What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

Bradley's wife laughed sardonically. "Jake, have you met Brian? He thinks it's okay to spread rumors and insult women who are smarter than him, and then he holds it over their heads."

Jessica watched Brian's face turn a pasty shade of white as Jake took him by the shirt collar and shoved him against the refrigerator. "No. Please don't hit him," Jessica begged as she cried. "He's not worth it, Jake."

But her boyfriend looked a little deranged right now, and she could see the malice in Brian's eyes. 

"I've had just about enough of you giving my girl a hard time. It's like you're begging for this." Jake shoved him a little harder, and Jessica had to look away. 

"Oh, shit," Bradshaw and his wife said in unison, and she was too afraid to look. 

Jessica felt the other woman's arms wrap around her as she called out, "Jake, look at Jessica! She's upset."

When Jessica peeked through her tears, she saw Bradley bear hugging Jake's arms to his side as he fought to get to Brian. But when Jake turned to look at her, his features softened, and now it looked like he was fighting against Bradley to come her way. 

Brian pushed away from the refrigerator and stormed out of the room, but not before he said, "We're not finished," as he pointed in Jessica's face.

Bradley released Jake, and Jessica was a little afraid he was going to go after Brian, but he didn't. She was wrapped up in his arms with his lips on her forehead as he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I made you cry more."

Jessica shook in his arms, terrified that her career was now over. Shaken once again by how hard Brian was trying to ruin her. Jake's kisses and soft words did little to soothe her as she closed her eyes and sobbed.

"Take her home," Bradley said, his voice soft but commanding. "We'll get everything cleaned up here."

Jessica tried to argue, but Jake scooped her up easily in his arms, and she didn't fight him. She closed her eyes, forcing air into and out of her lungs, and a moment later she was sitting in his truck.

--------------------------

Jake started the engine, but before he shifted into drive, he leaned across the seat and brushed Jessica's hair away from her face. "I'll take you back to your place?" he asked softly. More than anything, he really wanted to drop her off and then go pound the shit out of Brian, but when she nodded and reached for his hand, he put the truck in gear.

She remained silent as she held his hand, only occasionally swiping at her tears and looking out the window. If he knew she wanted to confide in him, Jake would sit and wait with her for as long as it took her to get the words out. But he didn't want to push or ask the wrong things. He knew she could have a bit of a hard time opening up. 

He parked his truck, and scooped her up, careful not to mess up the fabric of her pretty dress. As he carried her into her apartment, he realized just how exhausted she must be. Her arms were around his neck, but she just sniffed and buried her face in his neck, trusting that he would get her inside to safety.

When Jake set her on her bed, he reached for the lamp on the nightstand. She looked wrung out even in the soft lighting, and he reached for her shoes. As he turned to take them into her closet, Jessica crawled up to her pillows with her dress still on, so he only took the time to remove his own shoes and his jacket before climbing in with her. 

Once he had his arms wrapped around her, she let her cheek rest on his chest. Her breathing evened out, and she seemed calmer. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, holding her close. 

She shrugged, and when she spoke, she sounded faint and almost broken. "There's not a lot to say. Brian is trying to ruin my career."

This was not the first time Jake wondered how someone could dislike Jessica. His mind was swirling with the possibility that he was holding a grudge after she broke up with him. He'd been thinking that for weeks. As he pressed a kiss to her hair, he asked, "Why, Baby? How is that possible?"

Jessica's body tensed up in his arms before she took a few shaky breaths and eased her cheek away from his chest. She was crying again as she looked him in the eye and whispered, "He and I were dating. And then we were sleeping together. For weeks. And I had no idea that he's married and has two kids."

--------------------------

Brian Conley is a dank ass bitch. We hate him. If Jake doesn't respond just right, I'll have to kill him. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

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[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (IV)

Chapter 4: First Time

Hello!! Here is a new chapter! This is one includes sexual themes, even if no explicit descriptions, so no minors here, please!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2435

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Andrew and you didn’t see each other for a few days. You were both busy with work, and an impending fear seemed to hang above the two of you. You were both happy to pretend that you didn’t have time to see each other, it was easier to tiptoe around the line of friendship rather than to cross it for good.

But then Saturday arrived, and with it Andrew’s promise to help you move furniture around your house. You were buying a new bookshelf, and needed to move a couple of things to accommodate the larger shelves.

It was raining, for a change. When Andrew knocked on your door, his hair was curlier than ever, and on its way to get properly drenched. Luckily, you hurried to let him inside the warmth of your house.

“Alright, muscles! Let’s get you dry and warm, and then you can show all that manly strength of yours!” you joked, making Andrew laugh before you had even closed the door behind him.

“Yes, ma’am. I am but your humble servant today.”

It was your turn to laugh. You walked to your kitchen to start a kettle, while Andrew was ridding himself of his wet shoes and coat.

“So, how many muscles will be pulled today?” he asked, walking into your living room to assess the work to be done for the afternoon.

You appeared soon after, carrying two cups of tea; you handed him the one containing two teabags.

“We need to move the sofa, the coffee table, and all the furniture set against this wall,” you explained. “Once that is done, we need to pick up my bookshelf at the shop, and bring it home. We can set up everything now, it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Last time we’ve tried to build a piece of furniture together was at Jon’s, and it took us three hours… I expect to be free at nightfall,” Andrew pointed out, but you shook your head.

“No, don’t worry about that. I can assemble the bookshelf on my own.”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow.

“You don’t want any help?”

“I can do it.”

“I know you can… I’m asking if you want help.”

“I don’t want to bother you…”

But he merely let out a laugh.

“When did you decide to stop being insufferable?” he joked, making you roll your eyes. “Y/N… I’m here to help, so let me help.”

You grew a little shy, and Andrew tried to ignore the way it made his heart inflate, warmth spreading in his chest at the sight.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course!”

He drank a little bit of tea, before rolling up his sleeves.

“Alright, tell me where we’re putting all these.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

“Pivot! Pivot!”

“I can’t believe you’ve made that joke… Andy!”

“Put it down. Y/N, just put it down, we’ll pick it up again.”

You heaved a relieved sigh as you put down the large cardboard box in your hallway. You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to slow down your heart.

You caught Andrew rubbing his back as you turned to him.

“Okay, next time I need help with something like this, I’ll ask someone my height. Are you okay, Andy?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. You should close your door, and then we’ll lift this up again and get it safely to your living room.”

You managed to get the box in the right room on your second attempt, even if your arms and hands were sore by now.

Building the bookshelf was quicker than expected, thanks to Andrew’s help. He heaved a content sigh once you were finally done.

“Not too bad!” you nodded, an excited smile on your lips.

He leaned back on his hands, admiring your work. You were both sitting on the ground, in the mess of cardboard and spared screws that came with building furniture.

“So… that means…”

“I can buy so many more books…”

He let out a bright laugh, shaking his head at you with a fondness that made you look away.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey! How many books did you buy last time we went to the bookstore together?” you asked back, making him roll his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ll have you know my purchases were perfectly legitimate.”

“The first two, maybe. Not the six that came next…”

Andrew laughed again, he couldn’t help it. And it made you break your act, the most beautiful sound in the world…

“Alright, alright. I might have a bit of an addiction.”

“Want some tea before you go?”

“You don’t want help organizing your brand-new shelves?”

“I reckon I’ve bothered you enough for one day.”

“God, stop saying that,” he mumbled, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “You’re never bothering me, Y/N.”

You gave him a smile, the kind that made his heart melt, that illuminated his entire world…

… Christ, he was such a desperate case.

“Even when I steal all your chips?”

It made him laugh again, of course, even if it was silly. Perhaps because it was silly. You were adorable like this, sitting on the ground with pieces of cardboard all around, your hair a mess and wearing your most comfortable clothes. Domestic. That’s how the scene looked. It could have been a moment held in a shared home…

He wanted to make a snarky remark, but his heart was too soft, too warm, a little too painful as well.

“Even when you steal my chips.”

Your smile grew more mischievous, and Andrew’s gaze lingered on your lips.

“Now that you’ve admitted that, you’ll never get the chance to eat chips ever again.”

You both chuckled at that, and Andrew leaned closer to you without noticing, sitting straighter again. He didn’t pay attention to the way you leaned closer as well.

“Alright, that is too much. I like you enough to concede… 1% of my chips. Not one more.”

“One?! And you say you like me?” you huffed. “I deserve at least 25% of your chips.”

“You’re never getting one-fourth of my chips. Have I never mentioned that chips are my passion in life? You’ll get 5%.”

“20%.”

“I won’t go above 7%.”

“Come on, 10%...”

You leaned even closer, so close your shoulder was brushing his arm. So close, he could feel the warmth of your breath on his chin as he bent down a little.

He struggled to swallow. The thought crossed his mind that you were barely a breath away, that all he had to do to kiss you was to slightly tilt his head and lean down some more…

When did the temperature of the room rise so much?

When did the playful atmosphere turn into this longing?

“Alright, 10%.”

“Deal.”

You offered him your hand, and he looked down at your open palm. He shook your hand, his so much larger than yours. When he looked up, you were blinking, lips slightly parted. He didn’t have the strength to pull away, decided to let you break your hold on him. But you didn’t. Instead, your gaze dropped to his lips, and you tightened you tightened your hold on his hand. Andrew’s heart skipped several beats, he glanced at your mouth as well. When your gazes met once more, you let go of him, and Andrew blushed furiously, ready to pull away, to pretend that nothing had happened.

But then your fingers were lifted to his cheek, your thumb softly stroking his beard. He blinked at you, holding his breath.

When you leaned up, he could barely believe it.

“Andy?” you whispered, your lips almost touching his.

“Yes?” he struggled to swallow, voice low and deepened by want.

“Are you still okay with… what we discussed the other day? About… our arrangement?”

Andrew tried to speak, but he merely nodded instead.

“Can I kiss you, then?”

But instead of answering, Andrew merely closed the gap between your mouths.

It was as wonderful as he remembered, just as overwhelming, as perfect… a feeling he never wanted to end. A sensation he knew he would never stop seeking if he lost you…

The kiss, this time, quickly got heated though. Andrew’s lips had soon found the sweet spot over your pulse, and he busied himself gently biting on the skin of your neck, before kissing it to sooth the tickling flesh. You were breathless in his arms, hands lost in his hair, gently pulling now and then.

When you started to unbutton his shirt, shivers ran through his entire frame.

“Can we take this to the bedroom?” he asked, voice raw and deeper than you had ever heard, deep enough to make your soul tremble, lust audible in his tone.

His pupils were as dilated as yours when you looked at each other.

You quickly nodded, staggering to your feet.

You offered him a hand, one he knew he couldn’t refuse.

“Just sex, though. We still agree on this?” you asked.

Andrew’s chest tightened, and yet as he looked up at you, your lips reddened with kisses, a mark left by his mouth over the curve of your neck, a lustful look in your eyes… he could never have said no. He would have accepted anything to have you, no matter the consequences for him.

“Yes. Yes, we agree.”

You helped him up, keeping your hand in his as you guided him to your bed.

You were still holding his hand.

There was no sound in the room but your two breaths, heaving across silence, scattering over empty space and furniture and the perspiration across your brow.

Andrew couldn’t look at you yet. His mind was just coming down from its height, from reaching for the heavens and gently landing back into your bed, across the soft cotton sheets that smelled of lilac and you. His thoughts were still a little foggy, a little distant even, hanging above him just out of reach. The dizziness that came with utter pleasure and release was dissipating, leaving some room for the return of realisation and consciousness.

He had sex with you. Andrew had just had sex with you. You had slept with him. And God, what love-making that was…

Your hand tightened slightly around his, and he finally gathered his courage to turn his head on the pillow, blinking and then looking at you.

You were dishevelled, struggling for breath still, your eyes closed. Your bare chest was heaving; he couldn’t help but let his gaze trace your shape, the lines of your skin, the perfect curves of your body, for now still uncovered by the sheets. You looked messy and perfectly content. Glowing in some way only pleasure could bring.

He wished for this to be the only sight he would ever see from now on.

“Wow… that was amazing, Andy…”

His lips curved into a cocky grin.

“So… not as disappointing as expected?”

You chuckled at that, finally turning your head to look at him.

“Barely.”

You exchanged a tender smile, while he raised his hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered to cup your cheek, touch gentle, loving even.

“It was amazing for me too, by the way,” he whispered, moving closer, his tone as quiet as a confession.

You leaned closer to kiss him, and you tasted like heaven, something sweet and impossibly you, a taste he would never forget and always crave for…

“Hold me… please,” you asked in a whisper, and he didn’t hesitate as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you against him. You rested your ear right against his heart, listening to the steady beat of the organ.

You nuzzled into his chest, one of your hands still holding his, the other resting across his stomach where you drew mindless patterns that lulled him into a peaceful state, one he had not reached in years. He bent his head to kiss your hair.

This could work, he thought. None of what had just happened felt like a mere fling, like some meaningless sex. There had been a connection the second your lips met. It wasn’t fucking, it was making love. And now, you were craving for his embrace as much as he was longing for yours. This could work. For now, your life was complicated and stressful. It was okay, Andrew would wait for you to be available again, for you to be ready to give him a proper chance. It would be alright, all he had to do was to be patient. You couldn’t properly date him at the moment, but nothing that had occurred in this bedroom was mere physical attraction. It was more than just sex. You pretending that it was nothing more than a friends with benefits situation… it was temporary. Andrew was not fooled. You were still holding his hand. It would be fine, it was more than just sex… so much more…

He pressed his lips to your hairline.

“God, you’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered, and he felt your smile against his skin.

His hold on your waist tightened slightly, before he would move his hand across your back, long fingers splayed across the base of your spine. Feeling your bare skin against his was driving him absolutely insane…

“Let’s take ten minutes like this, and then I’ll clean the mess we’ve made in the living room.”

“An hour.”

You chuckled, pinching playfully his side.

“Quit having such a terrible influence on me, would you? I’ll give us fifteen…”

“Why the rush?” he argued, his eyes closing while his lips were still resting against your skin and he breathed in the blooming scent of your shampoo. “This is nice… let’s enjoy the moment, okay?”

You didn’t say anything, remained quiet, went back to tracing patterns against his skin.

It lasted a few blissful minutes, before you were sitting up.

You let go of his hand.

“I’m gonna go clean up everything in the living room, and reorder my bookshelves. Do you want some tea?”

You weren’t looking at him, as if you were avoiding his stare. Andrew wondered why.

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

You hurried back into your clothes, and Andrew grew self-conscious, now that he was the only one still naked. He reached for his underwear as well, then his undershirt.

“You’re alright, baby?”

You finally turned to him.

“Let’s make a new rule. No pet names. Okay?”

He blinked up at you from the bed, taken aback, too much so to stop you from leaving the room.

[teambyler]

Everything after Mike's monologue shows that El has moved on from Mike

After the climactic events of season 4 including Mike's monologue, we have ZERO scenes between El and Mike talking about what happened. And we're never explicitly shown what she's thinking: we have to pick it up through clues.

Here are ALL the significant things El does afterward that give us any clue of what she thinks about their relationship.

Mike tells El to "wake up," and then El says (while looking at Max) "No... You're not going... No." The first "no" can also be a direct response to Mike. She is choosing not to go back to Mike and to help Max:

Of course, she wants to save Max's life. But her "no" becomes more significant when we see her thoughts while saving Max. She remembers her s3 friendship with Max, where she found herself happier dumping Mike and becoming independent. Max told her about ANOTHER female superhero Wonder Woman, said "Not Hopper, not Mike, YOU... There's more to life than stupid boys... Against the rules? We make our own rules":

We then time jump to 2 days later. Mike and El are sitting next to each other in the van, but they don't interact.

When they visit Max at the hospital, El puts her head on Mike's shoulder and he puts his arm around her. This is the ONLY expression of closeness we see between them after the monologue. Even here, both of El's arms hang at her sides:

But in this and later scenes we see Mike having more interactions with Will than with El. When Lucas says the doctors thought it was a "miracle" Max came back to life, Will and Mike have the same thought -- that El saved her -- but they look immediately at each other first instead of El. El, meanwhile, hadn't shared that Max almost died (and what she had done to save her) with Mike. She doesn't look at him. (Thanks to @romainlettusdinnerparty for pointing this out)

While cleaning Hopper's cabin, El tellingly closes the door after entering her old room, immediately after glancing at Mike and Will together. (There is no reason to close a door when you're cleaning a musty old house!) We find out that she has barely been talking to Mike:

Finally, the last scene. The three of them walk out onto the field side by side. Mike and Will stop at the same time. El walks forward ahead of the other two. Mike doesn't follow his girlfriend and stays by Will:

Since this is the very last scene and there's no dialogue, it's fair to say that what we're seeing visually will foreshadow events in the next season. She is walking ahead into the rotting part of the field (the Upside Down?). And she is moving away from Mike, and Mike is choosing to stay with Will. Mike and Will aren't holding hands, but they're BREATHING IN SYNC.

To drive things home, she sees the EXACT same kind of flowers that Mike picked for El and gave her at the airport, the yellow and purple flowers:

... But now they're wilted... a very on-your-nose symbol of their relationship. She holds on to the wilted flower while looking at the devastation in Hawkins. This reflects and foreshadows her personal journey:

The only other reading of these final images is that she will defend what is good -- Hawkins -- from Vecna. But the chosen symbol is too associated with Mike's bouquet. It can't be her protecting their relationship from Vecna. It has never been threatened by external threats. (In fact, facing shared danger from the "bad men," etc. brought them together.) Their relationship has corroded from within.

The absence of ANY scene between Mike and El post-monologue is startling. We get MANY scenes in the epilogue where we see how the main characters now relate to each other. El and Will hug Dustin, we see that Robin and Vickie might enter a relationship, heck we even see how Mike and Hopper regard each other. But for Mileven, where THE arc this season has been "Will Mike say he loves El?" we get no resolution!

Instead, we get implications and symbols. And everything makes clear that Mike and Will have grown closer, while Mike and El have grown more distant.

This, AFTER Mike said what El told her he needed to say for their relationship to work out! If anything, it made El MORE distant. As if El realized that isn't what she wants after all... unlike early in s4, El is now hardly relating to Mike whatsoever.

Mileven is a sinking ship. But that doesn't mean Mike and El must end up unhappy.

-teambyler

[yerimacoustic]

𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 ♡ jun x reader

❝ 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙞'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 ❞

summary : you find a sense of familiarity in your sworn rival, jun, while exchanging anonymous letters with a stranger .

content warnings : jun x female reader, regency era au, merchant!jun x bookstore owner!reader, mostly inspired by you’ve got mail, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, banter, misunderstanding, featuring jeonghan, wonwoo, karina and joy, yearning, kissing, sfw. 10.7k wc.

more notes : i finally got this out after weeks and weeks.. honestly i’m not sure if i love this, we’ll see how long it lasts 😭 not proofread. may make edits now & then. mostly historically inaccurate probably but we’re going with the vibes

the walk to the post office was not tedious by any means. not when the promise of a new response in the form of a handwritten letter prompted you to move quickly and lightly on your feet. it had become a weekly routine, early morning strolls to the post house, as well as an awfully great way to start the week. 

the postmaster, otherwise known as your childhood friend, jeonghan, stood completely still behind the main counter with his arms folded across his chest. there was a knowing, mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched you quietly shut the door; he had been expecting you. just like he expected you every monday morning. 

it wasn’t long before the brunette pulled a small envelope from the series of shelves behind him, gently dropping it onto the counter between the two of you. “here you go. your gentleman’s love letter awaits.”

“good day to you too, mr. yoon,” you teased him and grabbed the envelope, taking note of the familiar wax seal in the front. a neat scarlet red circle with a lion in the center- the familiar sight always managed to bring a smile to your face. 

“hopefully he gives you some more clues as to his identity this week?” he called out to you as he strode across the tiny shop in favor of sweeping the floor. a look of feigned disappointment washed over his features as the sound of the bristles scratching across the floor and the envelope ripping open filled in the silence. “...perhaps not.”

just as your lips parted, the door swung open to reveal jeonghan’s assistant, karina. from the moment her eyes were fixed on yours, a mischievous glint akin to jeonghan’s filled her irises. “i thought i might find you here today. what news from the mysterious suitor?”

you shook your head before gesturing towards jeonghan, “i haven’t had the opportunity to read it yet. someone’s made sure of that.”

the man laughed from across the room, “it was never my attempt to keep you from reading it. i only wish that the two of you would at least give each other some hints as to who you really are.”

karina nodded in understanding before turning her back in favor of hanging her overcoat upon the rack near the entrance. “i hate to level with jeonghan in this case, but i’m curious about this mystery man, as well. have the two of you ever discussed meeting in person?”

“no, not at all. we’ve agreed to stay anonymous,” you explained as your fingers curled around the envelope in an almost protective grip. force of habit. “we know the risks but.. it’s quite refreshing, having someone to talk to without any of the societal pressures.” 

before too long, jeonghan had finished tidying up and joined the two of you near the entrance. “i don’t understand. you both are clearly fond of each other..”

“who said anything about-”

“and you have a lot in common,” jeonghan mused, eyebrows raised. “in your next response, you should ask him something personal. ask him about his occupation.”

without skipping a beat, you shook your head in protest. “thank you for your unsolicited advice, jeonghan, but i know everything i need to know about this man. good day, my friends.”

you waved goodbye to the inseparable pair, stepping towards the small door. of course jeonghan, who always had to have the last word, called out to you before you could shut it completely, “except for his true identity!”

his words prompted your lips to twist into a smirk as you finally found the right opportunity to open the letter. as you unfolded the piece of parchment, your smirk slowly dissolved into a genuine smile, finding beautiful familiarity in the cursive penmanship. as you took cautious steps on the beaten path, you read the letter carefully:

‘this weekend i had the pleasure of accompanying my cousins as they vacationed in the countryside. they rent a small cottage near the ocean during the summertime and haven’t bothered to invite me until this year. i wish you could have seen it; it was perfectly quaint and tranquil. we spent all but the entirety of the seventy two hours walking along the beach and hunting for seashells. a bit of a juvenile hobby, i know.

i’m not sure where this inkling comes from, but something tells me you enjoy the oceanside. i bet you keep a collection of shells and pearls hidden somewhere in your home. or perhaps you proudly display them for your visitors to see. next time they permit me to join them near the beach again, remind me to fill this envelope with shells to add to your collection. 

i know summer is your favorite holiday, and with that being said, i hope you find enjoyment in the final days of the season. take a stroll along the gardens or picnic with some of your friends. 

take some time for yourself, my friend.’ 

–

jun waited three days for a reply, just as he did every week. he and his anonymous friend had fallen into a pattern of consistency, each of them sending a letter out to the other person once a week. even if he knew he could count on whoever this person was to send a timely response, his nerves got the best of him every time. the potential tone of the response occupied his thoughts at all times, keeping him up at night, keeping him from focusing intently on his work. 

this week it reached the point where he had to turn his chair around to face the window, hoping that the sight of the rolling hills and graying sky outside would clear his mind. summer seemed to come to an end as quickly as it had begun, the entire season passing by in the blink of an eye. he counted his blessings, realizing that he was indeed lucky to have at least one holiday during the season. even if it was at the very end.. 

a knock on the door pulled him out of his trance and he turned his chair back to rest in the proper position, tucked tightly under his desk. “come in,” he called out.

barely a minute had passed before jun’s personal assistant and lifelong friend, wonwoo, closed the door quietly behind him and strode towards his desk with an envelope in hand. “your mystery woman sends her compliments,” he mused, handing the letter to jun. 

jun’s eyes went wide. “you mean- you saw her??”

wonwoo shook his head, holding back an amused smirk as he watched the disappointment wash over jun’s features in real time. “no. my apologies.”

jun sighed, “just as well, i suppose. god only knows what chaos would unravel if anyone else in the household saw her.” 

wonwoo nodded stiffly, folding his hands behind his back. “right you are. maybe there is practicality in anonymity, after all.”

“still, i can’t help but wonder what she’s really like in person,” jun mused, leaning back in his large leather chair with his chin cupped between his thumb and index finger. “there are so many habits and manners of hers i don’t even know about. she could be.. much lovelier in person.”

the bespectacled man tilted his head, taking a completely different approach, “or she could be ill-favored and poorly mannered.” the quiet statement was enough to pull jun out of his daze, causing him to furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. “my apologies.”

“there is no possible way someone who writes so beautifully is as ill favored as you say.” jun disregarded the man in front of him as he began to tear the seal off of the envelope, a silent command for wonwoo to leave him alone. conveniently enough, the door gently slammed shut once jun finally unfolded the small sheet of parchment. 

‘i am delighted to hear that you were able to enjoy the last remaining hours of the season with your family. the ocean sounds delightful. your suspicion of my enjoyment of seashells and pearls is a fair assumption, although, i gave up collecting a long time ago. hopefully you invest more stock in your collections than i did.

i’m afraid that i have no plans to take my leave before autumn begins as i’ve been much too busy. i don’t mind keeping an occupied schedule; it takes my mind off things and prevents me from overthinking. especially when i get the pleasure of meeting several people from different walks of life on a daily basis.

i know i say this every week, but it is always a pleasure receiving your letters. sometimes i can’t believe that we met through an anonymous literary discussion group. i’ve received a handful of letters from other attendees, but allow me to say that the discussions are utterly mundane compared to our conversations. it feels like i write to a friend i’ve known for years.

i eagerly await your reply, dear friend.   

jun folded the letter and tilted his head back in contemplation, just as he did every time he read one of your letters. the term of endearment the two of you shared always stuck out to him- ‘dear friend.’ as much as he enjoyed reading it at the end of every letter, a small part of him wished that there was a better word to describe how he felt towards you. 

how he truly felt towards you was a mystery in and of itself. he valued your time and your relationship, he thought very highly of you.. but there were several complications that interfered.

as if on demand, one of the complications walked through the door without bothering to knock. joy, the daughter of the second wealthiest merchant in town and jun’s fiance strode towards his desk with confidence and charm. meanwhile, wonwoo stood by the door, stoic as ever as he occupied the room in favor of serving as a chaperone. he sent an apologetic glance in his friend’s direction, which jun quickly disregarded.

“still cooped away in this gloomy room, are you?” joy asked rhetorically. “oh dear, what ever is the matter?” 

jun had completely forgotten to mask his confusion-fueled anxiety when she walked through the door. he shook his head in quick denial, his gaze softening as he allowed himself a better look at his fiance. “nothing,” he replied shortly and offered her a smile. “what brings you here?”

“i’ve come to ensure you’re still planning on attending the charity auction,” joy replied with an infectious grin. she gently picked up one of his paperweights, a sculpture of hand blown glass decorated with stained petals of lavender.  

“oh dear- was that tonight?” jun grimaced, moving both hands to rub at his temples. the thought of socializing with anyone else that night in particular sounded like a nightmare, even if there was the possibility of making important new connections. maybe he had returned from his holiday much too soon.  

disappointment washed over joy’s features, prompting her eyebrows to furrow and her lips to curl with a frown. “don’t tell me you forgot.”   

“my apologies, darling- i’ve been so caught up with the upcoming shipments that it must have slipped my mind,” jun explained to her with a delicate tone of voice as he rose to his feet. the last thing he wanted was to convey his reluctance to attend the modest party with her. 

she smiled faintly, allowing jun to take both of her hands in his. “i understand that you must have a lot to catch up on after returning from your vacation. perhaps we shouldn’t go.”

“no-” jun gently protested and squeezed her hands. “i want to go.” 

jun witnessed his intended’s smile brighten in real time, the rest of her features noticeably lighting up once he agreed to make good on his promise. she mused, “splendid. i look forward to it.”

joy began to lean in with the intention to press a gentle kiss against jun’s cheek- however, he was quick to tilt his head back. just as an inquisitive gaze filled joy’s irises, jun tilted his head subtly towards their chaperone, who was standing against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. right. 

just then, joy let out a sheepish chuckle and settled for allowing jun to press a chaste kiss against her knuckles. “i will ask for the carriage around seven,” he told her, letting go of her hands and letting his own fall to his sides. “until then.”

“good day.” joy curtsied to him and bowed her head politely towards wonwoo as she left the room in a hurried pace, excitement getting the best of her. she loved parties, no matter the occasion; one of the many subjects where she and jun didn’t see eye to eye.   

he clearly did a terrible job at disguising his disdain, for wonwoo was quick to approach the merchant’s side and pat his shoulder in feigned reassurance. “think of it this way,” he mused. “tonight, you may find someone you will actually enjoy talking to.”

“i appreciate your optimism, wonwoo, but i highly doubt that.”

—----

you must have reorganized the tiny bags of tea arrangements twenty times by now, ensuring that they were neatly stacked up against each other. as for the stacks of books on the other side of your booth, that was an entirely different story. you couldn’t come to terms with an arrangement you completely approved of and suddenly wished you hadn’t previously neglected the bookends. 

karina noticed your frantic effort to neatly organize the rest of the books and shook her head with affection as she placed a hand over yours. “everything looks perfect, i promise,” she reassured you. “besides, no one will come to your booth if it appears as though you’re still cleaning things up.” 

“perhaps you’re right,” you sighed just before the two of you sat down on the stools you’d been provided. silence filled the air between you and your good friend as the two of you watched the patrons circle around the rest of the booths, pausing to get a better look at the products provided by other vendors. you felt somewhat insecure while taking note of your neighbors’ products and wondered if you should have thought outside of the box. 

but this was an important, extremely personal matter at hand for you: the library you had grown up visiting every weekend was on the brink of closing down. you presented the idea of a fundraiser to the esteemed owner, strings were pulled, and the rest of the puzzle pieces fell into place. you only wished you had more time to come up with a better product to sell.

at least your fellow vendors seemed to be pulling their weight.

among the sea of clientele was a tall, smartly dressed man with dark, wavy hair. the man walked along the rows of tables with his hands folded behind his back, studying each individual booth a bit too theatrically for your liking. he took slow, somewhat deliberate strides that left onlookers on the edge of their seat. but something about the way he carried himself, his dress, told you that he could invest a great deal of money into a great cause if he cared to. 

karina left you alone, promising to purchase some cookies from a nearby vendor for the two of you. being alone with your thoughts at a time like this was less than ideal, considering customers were scarce. of course. you should have known no one would want to buy homemade tea sachets..

before too long the mysterious, smartly dressed man was nearing your booth. you straightened out your shoulders, rising to your feet and plastering the brightest smile you could muster as he approached you. “good evening,” you greeted him, a tad louder than you intended to, “could i interest you in some tea sachets? or perhaps- limited editions of some of my favorite collective works?”

the man stopped, picking up one of the tiny bags in his hand and raising an eyebrow inquisitively. “perhaps. what flavor are these?”

“ah yes, its black tea leaves mixed with brown sugar and vanilla bean,” you replied proudly. “i assembled them myself.”

he placed the sachet back on the table, ensuring that it was neatly lined up with the rest before looking past your shoulder. you could have sworn you detected a hint of distaste in your eyes as his eyes scanned through the stacks of books, but he stepped closer to your collection. “do you enjoy reading george eliot’s works?” he asked.

“well- no, not particularly.”

the man nodded his head once, his eyes lighting up in understanding. “ah. trying to get rid of some extra books, are you?” 

you furrowed your eyebrows, stunned. “no.. i assure you, sir, that’s not the case.” perhaps the words left your lips in a much more defensive tone than you intended, but the realization came too late. “i’m simply making much needed sacrifices for a worthy cause.”

the stranger let out an amused chuckle, “trust me, i did not mean to insult you. i was merely curious.”

“right... forgive me for overreacting,” you sighed, feeling unconvinced despite his reassurance. “everyone around me seems to have valuable things to offer for this event but.. here i am, selling dusty old books and tea leaves. i suppose i felt-”

“threatened?” he finished, cocking a brow. 

you lifted your chin up, maintaining a friendly but somewhat hesitant grin. “yes, i suppose i felt threatened.”

the man in front of you bowed his head to take a closer look at your merchandise. in any other circumstance, he wouldn’t be caught dead purchasing tea or even drinking it, and he already had most of the books she was trying to sell. however, he lifted his chin to meet your gaze, “i’ll take the lot.”

you paused, utterly stunned. “please, sir, don’t feel the need to humor me or my grievances-”

he cut you off with a gentle laugh, one that you found far too sweet and angelic, “i’m not. i’m simply contributing to a worthy cause, as you stated earlier.”

the stiffness in your shoulders and spine that appeared upon receiving his offer would not disappear. you chuckled, hoping to ease the tension, “well.. if you insist. how generous of you.”

a smirk crept upon his lips just as he bowed his head again, looking through his jacket pockets for his leather bound wallet. “don’t mention it,” he mused, totaling the sum and pulling the bills out of his collection accordingly. “although- i feel like i should, at the very least, know the name of the person i’ve given a large sum of my savings to.”

you chuckled and took the money from him, your fingers brushing over his palm fleetingly. “y/n,” you replied. “although, now is probably a good time to tell you that all of my earnings are going towards funding the library.”

his eyes widened, and it was probably the most he’d done to showcase his emotions in the entirety of your exchange. “how noble of you.”

“it's for an important cause. important to me, at least.” you shrugged. “do i get to know the name of my generous donor?”

he chuckled, finally allowing his timid smile to reach his eyes in the meantime, “jun. pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“the pleasure is all mine,” you mused with another faint chuckle. 

just as you had finished preparing his bags with all of the books and tea sachets he had taken off your hands, a woman with long, gently waved hair and a bright smile joined his side. her eyes went wide as she linked her arm around his own and took in all of his new belongings. “darling! i hope you weren’t planning on spending your entire fortune tonight.”

jun let out a sheepish chuckle, which was accompanied by another grin that barely reached the corners of his eyes. he replied somewhat flatly, “no dear, i assure you, that’s not the case. i’m simply helping a friend.”

the woman’s small, unconvinced laugh briefly broke the awkward silence before she spoke up again, “my father’s here. he wishes to discuss some urgent matters with you.”

jun nodded in understanding, almost as if to disguise his annoyance. before he could allow the young woman to pull him away, however, he nodded in your direction, “it was a pleasure to meet you. have a splendid evening.” 

you bowed your head in gratitude, although it served as a perfect method of hiding your growing smile. “i won’t forget your kindness. good evening.”

somehow, you were able to steal a glance at the singular ring adorning the woman’s left hand. judging by the rather impressive diamond and the glow that she wore so proudly, you were willing to bet that the two of them were engaged. you were also willing to wager that the tall man the two of them were now face to face with was her father.

you recognized him immediately; he was one of the wealthiest men in the city. if not the entire state. your mysterious benefactor must be a man of circumstance if he was betrothed to someone like the daughter of one of the most notorious merchants. as you took note of the blank expression adorned by jun and joy’s growing smile, you suddenly wished you were gifted with the ability to read lips…

when karina returned with small bags of the desserts in both hands, her eyes went wide upon taking in the sigh of your now empty booth. “oh my! i take my leave for two seconds and you manage to clear the entire booth out,” she chuckled, handing you the small bag of goodies.

you chuckled, “i suppose father was wrong; airing out grievances to anyone who may listen does have its benefits.”

“perhaps,” karina chuckled along with you. “tell me, how many customers managed to buy the entirety of your possessions in the short amount of time i was gone?”  

“just one,” you replied with a smirk, gesturing towards the man in question. jun stood awkwardly in front of his future father-in-law with the two large bags still in both hands. 

karina’s eyes went wide, “ah, the notorious mr. wen junhui. i must say, i am pleasantly surprised he even purchased anything tonight, let alone the entirety of your collection.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “you know of him?”

karina chuckled, eyebrows raised to display her disbelief. “you don’t?” she countered. “he’s only the son of the wealthiest merchant in town. he plans to take full ownership of his father’s company by the end of the year.”

“then what is he doing here?” you wondered out loud, puzzled by karina’s revelation. you suddenly grew conflicted, reflecting upon his generous donation. was there a genuine desire to assist you in bringing about a change that was important to you or did he simply see your business as an opportunity to potentially ensure his own financial gain later on?

she shrugged, “i would assume he and his fiance are here to invest in some new partnerships.”

you furrowed your eyebrows as karina voiced your suspicions. “now who would make such…calculated moves at a time like this? my stars, this is a charity auction.”

“someone who only looks out for themselves, i suppose,” karina sighed. she placed a hand on your back and offered you a reassuring smile. “well.. i believe our work here is done. i propose we take our desserts and go on our way after a job well done.”

you laughed lightly, “i would be delighted.” 

the two of you passed by the couple as you made your way to the exit, jun’s eyes wandering to inevitably meet yours. he offered you a gentle smile, one that his fiance had just barely missed, prompting you to bow your head politely in return. for whatever complicated reason, you held onto the hope that you would never see that man again.  

—--------------------------- 

do you ever wonder what would become of your future if you had chosen a different path? or if, perhaps, the fates had a different idea for your livelihood? 

i don’t attempt to deny how lucky and blessed i’ve been- i have indeed lived a happy, comfortable life since i was a child. without going into too many details (as per our agreement), i would say that my life is very fortunate. but the more i take part in strenuous business meetings with my father and his partners, the more i wonder if there’s something wonderful i’ve been missing out on. 

i blame my newfound existential dread on the holiday i took part in with my cousins. not one of us had a care in the world for an entire weekend, and i daresay it was the longest period of time in which i felt no stress at all. this exchange of letters also provides me with much needed reprieve.   

i don’t want the entirety of this letter to fill you with melancholy so allow me to say this- there is a pastry shop near my estate that has the most delicious custard pies. if you ever find your way in that corner of town, let’s both hope i’ll be there at the same time. just out of coincidence, of course.

i hope to hear from you soon, dear friend.

you folded the piece of parchment in half and pushed it aside, feeling butterflies begin to take flight in your stomach. the two of you had never spoken about meeting in person, agreeing to keep your relationship confined to exchanging letters. of course, you would be lying if you said that the thought hadn’t crossed your mind on several occasions..

you haphazardly stuffed the letter in your pocket as the door to your quaint bookstore opened and jun shuffled in. he went wide eyed as he saw you stand behind the front counter, appearing to be on edge. 

even so, he greeted you with a smile of pleasant surprise, “oh..! i didn’t realize you worked here.”

you chuckled, still trying to ignore your racing heartbeat. “my father owns this store,” you explained somewhat flatly. “is there something i can help you with?”

“no, not at all. just taking a look.” a brief smile was sent your way before jun started wandering through the shop floor with his hands folded behind his back. you were reminded of the way he strode towards the booths in the library when the two of you first met, merely twenty hours beforehand. and just like before, it brought upon a sense of uneasiness. 

he stopped near a table in the corner of the room, where a stack of books was accompanied by candles set on top of intricate sticks, a woven tablecloth, and a small circle of.. seashells? 

he kept trying to tell himself that it was most likely just a coincidence, but he felt compelled to ask, “these shells add a nice touch. do you enjoy collecting?”

you perked up, gently shaking your head. “no, not particularly. i’m not sure why i even put them there; it’s not like the shop has a nautical theme..”

“they’re rather nice,” he remarked, gently cutting you off. he grinned knowingly as he continued to look through the shelves, studying the contents. “i must say, you have quite the impressive collection.”

“do you speak of my collection of books? or seashells?” you teased him.

he chuckled, “both, i suppose.. beaded periwinkles were always my favorite. i couldn’t help but notice it seems we both hold them in high regard.”

as he tilted his head back towards the small desk in the corner of the room, you’d only then noticed how many of that particular brand of shells you actually possessed. “i suppose great minds really do think alike,” you remarked. “but i’m sure you aren’t here to talk about seashells.” 

it appeared to jun as though you were eager to help him with another purchase, however, it couldn’t be further from the truth. mentally, you were crafting another response to your mysterious friend- actually, would it be appropriate to start calling him your suitor? 

either way, he noticed the hastiness in your tone and chuckled, “right. to tell the truth, i’ve been meaning to take a look at this shop for some time now. i think i could propose a business venture that would benefit you and your father greatly.” 

you raised an eyebrow and asked him in a gentle tone, “and what, pray tell, makes you think either one of us would be interested in a partnership with you?”

he stopped his pacing so he was standing directly in front of you, the front counter creating a fair amount of space. “i seek partial ownership of the shop. if you allow me to make a few adjustments to the building, i guarantee you it will bring in more customers and, eventually, more revenue for the two of us.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, taken aback by his words. “i don’t know if it escaped your notice, but my father is not here. he won’t be for another fortnight, at the very least.” you paused. “but if he was, i can guarantee you he would be mortified by your offer.”

jun mirrored your expression, cocking his head to the side in confusion. “i beg your pardon?”

“my father built this shop by himself and has been working his entire life to pay off his debts. every inch of this place holds sentimental value, i won’t have anyone making alterations for their own benefit.”

he nodded once, “that’s.. understandable. but you lead me to believe you’ve completely forgotten the definition of the word ‘partnership.’ it benefits the two of us equally.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, snapping, “please, sir- do not condescend to me.”

“my apologies,” he mused, taking a step to meet you around the counter. “but allow me to understand your line of thinking- you won’t accept an equal partnership from me, but you will accept a generous donation.” 

“need i remind you, the entirety of that donation went into funding the public library,” you protested while doing your best not to raise your voice. “and i now know fully well your true intentions behind that ‘generous donation’ of yours. 

“allow me to reiterate- while i most certainly do not speak for my father, i cannot guarantee his interest in your offer.”

he bowed his head with a knowing grin, “allow me to say i’m certain that your father recognizes a great offer when he sees one. i will speak with him in a fortnight.”

“i-” you stuttered, watching him step towards the door.

“i bid you good day, madam.”

—

my dearest, please do not feel any sense of guilt for simply conveying your true feelings. i will not lie to you, i think about all sorts of different paths i may walk in some sort of alternate universe. for example, maybe in another life, we do more than simply write letters to each other. maybe we take walks together or converse over custard pies.

even so, i hope you find a way to make peace with your business partners and yourself. and i really do hope you find what you’re looking for. please allow yourself to take more holidays with friends and family members whenever you can. personally, i find that even something as simple as a walk through the park on a chilled afternoon soothes the spirits.

i hope you reach this letter in time, but i have been craving a good custard pie. i thank you for your recommendation and hope to see you there on saturday around midday. purely out of coincidence, of course.

best wishes and goodbye for now, my dearest. 

“my dearest?” jun read out loud incredulously. he was so used to the mysterious writing partner holding him in a more platonic regard. he found himself helplessly staring at the term of endearment, the way she wrote it…

“i see the two of you are now using more personal terms of endearment,” wonwoo observed, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched jun from across the room.

jun placed the letter in a drawer filled nearly to the brim with the rest of his letters, carefully slamming it shut. “wonwoo… cease your teasing remarks for once and instead tell me what to do.”

wonwoo stepped closer, sitting comfortably near jun’s desk with his hands folded on his lap. “regarding this mystery woman of yours?”

jun nodded with a heavy sigh, which of course, puzzled wonwoo greatly. usually, he was in a brief state of merriment after reading one of your letters- but the way he clenched his jaw and stared at the patterns on his desk in contemplation said otherwise. “i find myself… conflicted. you see, in my last letter, i left something of an.. invitation for her.”

“an invitation?” wonwoo cocked an eyebrow.

jun shifted slightly in his seat, crossing his legs as he expected the worse reaction from wonwoo imaginable. “indeed. and she has taken it upon herself to arrange a meeting place and a time.”

instead of scolding him, however, wonwoo nodded, his confusion still evident. “then.. why are you feeling conflicted, as you say?” 

“for a number of reasons, i suppose,” jun sighed. “the first reason being that i’m.. confused, to say the least, about my feelings for her. they are strong, whatever they are- i hold her in the highest regard.. and yet i wonder if we made a mistake staying anonymous.”

wonwoo leaned forward, letting his chin rest in his palm. “you mean to say.. you’re worried there’s something you don’t know about her? something you might not like once you meet her in person?”

“well..yes, i suppose. not to mention there is the matter of my engagement-”

“your arranged engagement-” wonwoo chimed in. 

jun paused, drawing in a shaky breath. “precisely.” he rose to his feet, pacing the floor behind his desk and cupping his chin between his thumb and index finger. “my arranged engagement.. that i’ve been second guessing since the day the two of us were made aware of it.”

wonwoo nodded, signaling his understanding. “well.. i suppose the only way to find out if there’s something about her that you don’t exactly ‘like’ is to follow through with this meeting. maybe you won’t come face to face with previously unknown attributes of her personality right away, but the first step is always the most important.

“it seems to me that you have a lot of feelings to work through.. with her. maybe you should write them all down.”

jun furrowed his eyebrows. “you mean- write them down and.. read them to her?”

“why not?” wonwoo countered in a gentle tone, rising to his feet and crossing to the door with his hands folded behind his back. “you have no issue writing seemingly heartfelt letters to her once a week. how would this be any different?”

before jun could answer his friend’s question, he was left alone to stew in the complicated question. as per usual, wonwoo brought upon an excellent idea- one that he hated to consider taking seriously. and with a heavy sigh of disdain and shaky hands, he sat back at his desk and began to write. 

—--

“are you sure about this?” karina asked you for what felt like the millionth time, tying the ribbons of your hat together. she stepped back to take a better look at the modest lavender dress you had purchased for this specific occasion, immediately grinning. it was his favorite color; you’d known that since the two of you met through the literary discussing group.

“honestly, karina… i’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” you replied, taking a deep breath as you held one of your suitor’s letters in hand. it wasn’t just any letter, however- it was one of your favorite ones he’d gifted you. “i just wish i’d prepared something beautiful to say to him..”

“just.. speak from the heart,” your friend advised. “it works every time.”

you laughed, “are you quite sure about that?” 

“we’re wasting time!” she laughed and gently swatted at your upper arm. “go on, meet your wonderful suitor.”

before too long, karina carefully shoved you out the door with no intention of allowing you back into the shop. you didn’t look back, not even once, striding confidently towards the bakery. you could practically hear your heartbeat echoing in your ears as you finally walked through the door, a loud bell startling you on the way in. 

you didn’t know whether or not to call it irony, but you felt your appetite leave you abruptly while sitting comfortably in the corner of the room. you stared down at the envelope, which was still in your shaking hands, unable to continue watching the entry door in suspense. 

a timid tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your daze. you whipped your head back to see jun standing behind you with a growing smirk, the sight causing you to let out a huff in disappointment. he responded by snickering, “lovely to see you too, madam.”

you stuffed the letter in your jacket pocket, sighing, “what are you doing here?” 

he pondered your question with that all too familiar smirk of amusement, mirroring your actions and folding a small, leather bound book in his inner jacket pocket. “am i not allowed to take time off work to purchase some desserts?” 

“that’s not what i said,” you sighed just before he pulled out the chair across from you, prompting you to raise your hand in protest. “please, don’t- i’m waiting for someone.”

you tried not to think anything of the way jun paused, his dark eyes widening. “may i inquire as to who? a friend? an acquaintance? perhaps a suitor- i am more than happy to serve as a chaperone, if need be.”

“that will not be necessary, thank you kindly,” you chuckled without any sense of amusement in your tone. “we are not courting. not that i have to explain the circumstances of our relationship to you, of all people.”

despite your protests, jun sat across from you as his smirk grew into a beam. “what kind of suitor is he, i wonder? a lord? or a baron?”

“sir, i would thank you not to patronize me. and so loudly, at that,” you whispered.

he laughed a little too loudly for your liking, his bright smile on full display, “forgive me, i do not mean to patronize you. i simply wish to know more about who my new friend has taken a liking to.”

you paused, signaling your disdain with a frown before leaning in and speaking in a hushed tone, “well, if you must know, the man i’m supposed to be meeting with is kind, funny, and has an aptitude for reflection and study. he’s completely unlike you in every sense of the word.”

“is he really?” jun asked, taking genuine offense from your words. he drew back in his seat, eyebrows knitting together. 

you nodded with such blatant certainty that prompted jun to frown, delicate as the expression was. “indeed. he walks through life with radiant optimism and recognizes the value of literary classics. you, however, view such precious works of art as yet another method of personal financial gain. and i feel sorry for you.”

tension filled the air as jun grew silent, visibly stunned by your words. “forgive me for not telling you everything about my line of work upfront, but i’m not just in the business for the money. you see- i’ve already read the entire collection i’ve purchased from you. a long, long time ago, actually.” 

you could have sworn your heart stopped beating completely in your chest- maybe you had been a little too harsh with this man. you timidly asked, “and you’ve.. enjoyed all of them?”

“i don’t think there’s a word strong enough to describe my.. idolization towards the authors. especially dickens.” he paused, rising to his feet. “i feel as though he explores themes of human relationships better than any author i know of. the idea that someone can find redemption and mend even the worst wounds within said relationships..”

he paused once again, leaving you to ponder his annoyingly profound statement with furrowed eyebrows. just as you parted your lips to offer an apology, or even to ask him to elaborate, he spoke up again, “i do hope that one day, you will hold me to a higher regard. that one day, you will see me in the same positive light you see this stranger who clearly did not even bother to meet with you in a timely manner. i bid you good day.”

you felt your cheeks go cold as you watched him turn towards the door, your voice slightly raising, “jun, wait-”

much to your surprise, he faced you completely and offered you a sad smile, “that’s a lovely color on you, by the way.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, clearly caught off guard by his abrupt compliment. “sorry?”

“lavender. it’s a lovely color on you.” and as he let the beautiful, heartbreaking compliment fill in the tension between you, he nodded his head in farwell and turned his back on you for the last time. that afternoon, at least.

you leaned back in your seat as the bell signaled his disappearance. you felt as though there was a lot to unpack from your exchange- clearly you had misjudged jun. clearly, he was well read and you had rudely assumed that he wasn’t. you thought you had better character than that- but clearly, jun wasn’t the only one you had misjudged.

then there was the matter of his unexpected compliment- try as you might, you couldn’t stop repeating his line, his delivery over and over again in your mind. the way the word lavender rolled off of his tongue with ease- was there a possibility he knew that you had chosen to wear that color on purpose?

no- that couldn’t be possible. at least, that was what you kept repeating to yourself non verbally as jun took his leave. 

meanwhile, the man in question kicked at loose rocks on the pavement while trying to avoid wonwoo’s gaze. the younger man had accompanied jun to offer him moral support and was stunned to see the meeting ending so soon. he pushed off of the bench where he’d been quietly reading, rushing to the other man’s side.

“jun, what’s happened? why are you leaving so soon?” he demanded.

jun shook his head, refusing to meet wonwoo’s gaze. he told him pointedly, “this was a mistake. i never should have made that offer to her.. wonwoo, what was i thinking?”  

wonwoo grabbed his friend’s upper arm, stopping him from taking another step forward. “what do you mean, ‘it was a mistake?’ you were in there for less than five minutes, what could possibly go wrong in that short amount of time?”

he finally held his chin high, his eyes meeting wonwoo’s albeit reluctantly. he folded his arms across his chest as he took another look at the bakery he vowed never to set foot in again. “i saw her,” he muttered. 

wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows, his impatience getting the best of him. “...and what became of it?” 

“let’s just say if she knew who i truly was, she would regret joining that literary discussion group in the first place,” jun bowed his head, watching the dust settle around two pairs of shiny black shoes as he kicked another set of loose rocks. 

the confusion visibly melted away from wonwoo’s features within a matter of seconds. “i see…” he mused. when jun refused to speak again, the stunning reality of the situation circling around him like a dark cloud, he lightly scoffed. “and there’s not even a small part of you that’s willing to talk with her, explain yourself?”

jun shook his head, “trust me, there is no getting through to her.”

“how can you be so sure?” he snapped. wonwoo rarely ever raised his voice; whenever he did, however, jun was always taken aback. 

“because i know her!” jun exclaimed. he paused, hoping to steady his racing heartbeat. “and i have known her for almost a year now. i know about things she hasn’t told anyone else, her innermost thoughts, philosophies, desires.. which is why i know for certain that she would never stoop so low to even entertain the idea of courting someone like me.” 

“‘someone like you?’” wonwoo repeated incredulously. “you’re being ridiculous. get back in there and set the record straight, i insist- no i demand it.”

jun yanked his arm out of wonwoo’s grip. “you cannot order me to do anything.”

wonwoo smirked, clearly finding amusement in the situation. who could blame him, as he was pushing jun’s relentlessly stiff, almost lifeless figure towards the bakery. “oh, but i am. i’ll be waiting right here for you when you’ve finished explaining yourself to her.”

“absolutely not. now let go of me,” he swerved to the right in order to avoid wonwoo pushing him again. 

“you’ve nothing to lose, now get back in there-”

“no!”

before too long, the men were all but wrestling on the dirt path. wonwoo was trying to push him towards the bakery while jun was practically leaping back and forth to avoid even a mere graze of his friend’s hand. any onlooker might have been frightened by their actions and guessed that they were engaged in a genuine scuffle. but neither of them retaliate with violence, of course.

neither of them were sure how much time had passed before the front door swung open, seungcheol emerging with a scowl, “hey! the two of you better get a move on and take your argument somewhere else.”

the simple warning was more than enough to pull the two men away from each other. as the two of them hunched their shoulders in embarrassment, jun turned his back on the store. as if it wasn’t enough to discover the woman of his dreams was actually the one who hated him, he made a fair assumption that he had been banned from the shop. 

wonwoo, seemingly unbothered by the shopowner’s warning, walked alongside his friend. his shoulder barely brushed along his with every step he took and much to his surprise, jun didn’t make any effort to stop the fleeting contact. “so.. what happens now?” the bespectacled man asked.

“what do you mean?” jun asked, his eyes fixed on the weeds growing along the path. 

“are you planning to stop writing to her? or are you formulating an excuse for ditching her?”

jun paused, taking another look at the shop behind him. he could just barely make out your figure in the small front window, waiting noticeably impatiently at the same table. “i have no idea.”

—--

dearest, i wish that i could provide you with a good excuse as to why i did not meet with you. i am positive there is nothing i could say that could excuse my ill mannered behavior, anyways. i hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me, although i am not so sure if i can ever forgive myself. if you no longer wish to write to me, i understand. i simply want you to know that nothing could ever change how highly i think of you. 

it was the shortest letter he had written. you read it once, committing it to memory over the next few weeks without generating a proper response.  

you couldn’t remember a time in your life when the sting of betrayal had so effectively wounded you. mundane tasks such as eating, drinking, even concentrating on the simplest tasks at the book shop became too much for you to handle. all that occupied your mind was the embarrassment you felt waiting hours for the ‘friend’ to show up, the way your heart sank when you realized he wouldn’t be coming at all, the way tears blurred your vision as you walked home..

or perhaps the realization that it was all a mistake, that you never should have engaged in writing letters with a stranger in the first place. you never should have allowed yourself to find such comfort in a stranger, someone who could have easily been saying just what you wanted to hear.  

usually, you weren’t one to shy away from your responsibilities at the shop, especially considering your father was still gone. but you allowed yourself to make one exception, given the nature of your heartbreak. besides, it was always your father who told you that a walk in the park could be soothing to both the mind and body.

in this case, it was a short walk around in the park before you came to a stop near the large pond. the sunbeams shining on the water pulled you deeper and deeper into a daze of content, providing temporary relief from your heartbreak. the leaves rustled in the wind, a crisp breeze in the air.. it was peaceful. 

obviously, a little too peaceful for fate’s liking. 

you averted jun’s gaze to the best of your ability as you watched him stroll up the hill, walking the same path you had just minutes ago. as much as you kept telling yourself that this meeting was nothing but a coincidence, a small voice in the back of your mind kept asking if it really was. 

inevitably, his eyes found yours and before you could rise to your feet to dash in the opposite direction, he was taking long strides to meet you in your newfound hiding place. you bowed your head, avoiding his gaze as he spoke, “what a coincidence. i didn’t think i’d see you around here.”

“is it really a coincidence?” you asked him, haughtiness in your tone. 

jun shrugged, taking a seat next to you on the cold grass. “usually i don’t find myself in this part of town but.. my line of work really takes a toll and someone told me recently that a walk through the park on a chilled afternoon soothes the spirits.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes still fixated on the patterns of your dress.. that phrase.. it was all too familiar. “wise words,” were the only two words you could muster.

he nodded, allowing uncomfortable silence to pass between the two of you and gazing at the pond. he waited for a moment before speaking again, his tone low, almost timid. “how was the meeting? with that friend of yours?” 

you paused, drawing in a sharp breath and fixing your posture in the same movement. “he never came.”

jun turned to look at you, taking a mental note of the pure, unapologetic expression of heartbreak you wore. your pouty lips, the darkness in your eyes.. “i am.. truly sorry to hear that.”

you screwed your eyes shut, fighting back any tears that dared to surface. it took a moment for you to collect yourself enough to speak without showcasing the warble in your voice, “i suppose it’s my own fault for putting my complete trust in someone.”

jun paused, her words echoing in his mind to the point he couldn’t focus on anything else. of course, he felt guilty for not immediately declaring who he truly was and staying at the shop with her. he regretted it from the moment he made the decision to leave her. once again, he found himself overwhelmed from the complications he was forced to face on a daily basis.

“i don’t think it was a mistake on your part,” he finally whispered to you, offering a gentle smile once your eyes met his. “clearly, there is only one person at fault here.”

you nodded, feeling unable to break away from his gaze at that moment. much to your surprise, you were glad that you didn’t immediately push him away upon seeing him stroll confidently through the park. because as much as you told yourself how much you disliked him and what he stood for, there was no denying he possessed a level of.. comfort.

you chuckled, the sadness unmistakeable in your tone. “i don’t think i can find it within myself to..blame him,” you mused. “i know it sounds silly, but.. i would rather blame myself. i keep trying to make excuses for him.”

jun gently furrowed his eyebrows as he processed your words. of course, his irises were still flooded with sympathy as he gazed at you, trying to come to terms with your line of thinking. “can i ask you a question?”

you were slightly caught off guard by his question but you nodded all the same. “go on.”

he allowed himself to look forward again, shifting a little bit to sit more comfortably on the lawn. his knee barely grazed against yours as you did so, the fleeting contact still sending a shockwave along your skin. your cheeks even heated up as his gaze found yours again and he spoke gently- 

“you jump through hoops to forgive this man for betraying your trust and yet.. you don’t seem to find it within yourself to forgive me for a simple misunderstanding. i just.. don’t understand why.”

once again, that familiar jab at your heart stunned you into silence. he brought up an excellent point; the moment you watched him leave the bakery, unforgettable guilt rushed over you like a tidal wave. seeing him sit next to you, remaining vulnerable with his emotions- it reminded you just of how much you had misjudged him. 

“i’ve been horrible to you,” you finally spoke. “and i want to apologize. i think.. this trip that my father’s been on has been something of a practice round for me. there will come a day when i’m running his store all by myself and..it might come sooner than later. and that terrifies me.”

“that’s completely understandable,” jun replied. “trust me, i’m convinced that if i make one wrong move, i will burn my father’s business, his entire legacy, to the ground. I’m terrified.”

the two of you shared a laugh, sorrowful as it was. as he kept the bashful smile plastered upon his lips, you couldn’t help but take a mental note of the way his eyes lit up as he did so. “i guess we’re more alike than i thought,” you confessed.

jun’s heart sank upon hearing your words. he longed to tell you the truth, to apologize for hurting you so deeply by ignoring you- but something held him back. a sneaking suspicion that this was neither the time nor the place. so he drew in a deep breath before his smile grew wider, “i guess we are.”

you chuckled, suddenly hyper aware of how close the two of you were sitting. however, it felt like the wrong time to bring up the impropriety of your situation, given the context. “but if it really means that much to you, i can arrange a meeting with you and my father once he returns.”

jun pondered your words, his arm grazing yours as he drew in another sharp breath. once again, the brief contact was enough to quicken your heart rate. “i would love nothing more than to work more closely with the two of you.. but please, don’t feel pressured to schedule the interview on my account.”

you chuckled, leaning back on the grass slightly and propping yourself up by your elbows. “on your account? it was your idea, was it not?” 

jun laughed in return before smiling down at you, “well.. yes, but you know what i mean. i don’t want you to humor me simply because you feel guilty. i want to meet with your father because the two of you genuinely want to work with me.”

“jun-” you started, taking a hold of his left hand. you anticipated feeling the cold sting of a wedding band on his finger, but there was none. you almost gasped in surprise, promising yourself you would ask him about it later. “i want to work with you. well- forgive me if i sound forward, but i want to do more than work with you. i want to spend more time with you.”

“you..do?”

“yes!” you laughed. “that is.. only if you want to, of course.”

“no, no, of course i do-” jun stuttered gently with a chuckle. “i’m just- i’m confused. you seemed to be pretty confident in your opinions of my character. and, well now..”

“i keep thinking about what you said..about mending relationships. and.. i want to mend ours. as i said before, it seems we have more in common than we might think. i want to get to the bottom of that.” 

“and i.” jun’s smile grew wider, the corners of his eyes gently wrinkling at the movement. he even mirrored your position, laying comfortably on the grass after ensuring no one was approaching. “i assume you’ve read austen’s works as well?”

you let out a dreamy sigh, earning a gentle laugh from jun in the process. “of course i have. pride and prejudice will always be one of my favorite works.”

“i should have expected as much from you,” jun teased, toying with a blade of grass he had plucked from the earth. he tied it in a few knots, shyly avoiding your gaze.

you laughed somewhat sheepishly as you watched his fingers toy with the blade of grass, feeling dazed. “and what is that supposed to mean?”

“there’s no shame in enjoying a good romance novel,” jun retorted, looking over to you. only then did you once again realize just how close you were now laying together, less than an inch of space between your shoulders and knees.

for a brief moment, it felt as if you forgot how to breathe. you didn’t dare allow your gaze to fall to his lips as you whispered, “is mr. wen junhui a secret avid fan of romance, then?”

“you could say that,” he replied, his tone growing lower than you’ve ever heard. it was all becoming too much for you to handle, the way the gentle breeze pulled his hair over his eyes, locked with yours, his lips gently parting. 

“can i ask you a personal question?” you finally spoke up, your voice lower than his.

“yes.”

“you used to wear a ring..” you started, unsure of how to go about your line of questioning.

he seemed to catch on, however, nodding his head once and drawing back a tiny bit from your figure. “i.. don’t want to think of everything as a business transaction. especially not marriage.” he let his hand rest near his side, inevitably brushing against your own. “my father wasn’t happy. or hers, for that matter. but i stand by my decision.”

you nodded in understanding. “i admire your courage. and i understand where you’re coming from, completely.” you found it within yourself to finally look away from him, drawing away from his godly features to instead look up at the graying sky. “if i ever marry, i want to be endlessly, hopelessly in love with him. without any hesitation or reservation.”

you caught him nodding in your peripheral vision, the smallest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “i want to know the depths of someone’s soul. i want to savor every small moment with her..someone who fulfills me.” 

just then, it felt like a light bulb had finally flashed in jun’s mind; his feelings towards his anonymous writing partner lying next to him didn’t seem so complicated anymore. although he was nervous, wishing he could have waited for another moment to confess his truth to her, the small voice in his head was much too persistent. there truly was no time like the present.

with that being said, he pulled the small notebook out of his pocket. you recognized it instantly; it was the same one he carried with him in the bakery. he sat upright as he opened it, silently prompting you to do the same. before you could ask him what this was all about, he spoke in a low tone, “there’s.. something i’ve been meaning to tell you. well.. i didn’t know it was you specifically i would be addressing this to, but..”

“what is all of this about?” you chipped in.

a shaky hand brushed over the parchment before he began to quietly read, “my dearest friend, i’ve waited a long time for this moment. i cannot tell you how many times i’ve wrestled with the dilemma of asking to meet you in person-”

“wait-”

he took another deep breath before releasing it with a shaky sigh, “but now that we’re finally here, face to face, i have finally mustered enough courage to tell you how i truly feel about you.” but of course, in that moment, his actions betrayed his beautiful words. his heart rate increased, which in turn, affected his breathing. 

so you gently took the notebook from his shaking hands, offering him a gentle smile. you began to read his words aloud, prompting his cheeks to darken with a blush, “and the truth is, my dearest, that i have never felt so connected to someone in my entire life. i have told you things no one else knows. 

“in turn, although i feel like i know everything there is to know about you, i want to know more.” tears once again began to blur your vision, but you pressed on to the best of your ability. “writing this to you, i can’t believe i ever doubted, even for a second, how i truly felt about you. i can’t believe i had any reservations in telling you the truth in the first place.

“and if you don’t feel the same, that is per-”

jun was momentarily stunned when you fell abruptly silent. however, you had only stopped reading for two reasons: tears blurring your vision and falling down the worn parchment being one, while you also saw no need to read any further. 

you scooted closer until your knees brushed against his and reached your hand up to cup his cheek. “it..it really was you..” you whispered.

he rose his hand to cover your own, nodding bashfully. “it was,” he mused. “i know.. i know you must be so angry with me and- and.. confused, but i had to tell you. i couldn’t keep it hidden, i-”

just as a short chuckle escaped your lips, you quickly leaned in to silent him by pressing your lips against his. you felt him smile into your lips before returning the kiss, slowly molding his lips with yours. it was gentle, passionate, and it spoke much louder than words in that moment. 

when he broke away, his hand found yours and he laced his fingers with your own. as he gave your palm a tight squeeze, his eyes never left yours. “i’m sorry.. i should have told you sooner. much sooner..”

“i understand,” you gently cut him off, connecting your forehead with his. “i knew.. i knew that i was right not to blame you. i blame myself, i should have-”

jun immediately shook his head in protest, his other hand cupping your cheek. “no. i should have been forthright from the start. from the second i met you in person. it could have spared us both a lot of heartache.”

you laughed in agreement, “you are not wrong… what if we made an agreement, that from this moment forward, we are to be completely transparent with each other?”

“i love the sound of that,” jun whispered before placing his lips against yours once more. this kiss was just a bit more heated than the last, as if the two of you were making up for any lost time. the two of you felt as if you were seeing stars the entire time your lips moved against his. and when the kiss finally broke, the two of you were grinning from ear to ear.

jun, of course, was the first to speak up. “is it.. too soon to tell you.. there is a chance i may be.. possibly, a little bit in love with you?”

you laughed, your thumb brushing along his jawline as your free hand squeezed his palm. “maybe..but i am in love with you too. completely. without any hesitation.”

he chuckled helplessly as he listened to you upstage him with your declaration, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. “well.. i love your transparency.”  

[blondiedae]

dry house, wet clothes (two)

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃 dry house, wet clothes, two

pairing. johnny suh x afab!reader x jeong jaehyun

genre. angst, fluff, eventual smut, slow burn (for jaehyun), friends to lovers (for johnny)

warnings. swearing, mentions of drinking, kissing, groping, smut tags will be added when it applies. big miscommunication trope, it is what it is. it’s so much angst i’m so sorry

word count. 10,247

plot. the four of you have spent years building the world around you, your friendship, your weekends together hidden in jaehyun's loft. you, mark, johnny and jaehyun. shaking the foundation of that by being in love with your best friend, jaehyun, is a risk you've never been confident enough to take. but, johnny suh is confident and johnny suh has been known to shake the world around you.

other's mentioned. mark lee, dong sicheng (winwin), na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck (haechan), kim jungwoo

author's note. saying mark is just mentioned isn’t doing him justice, mark lee is just as much a part of this as the three main characters. here’s part two, enjoy!

taglist (open). @xiaojunsdino @yoursyuno

playlist. here !

Johnny was waiting for you under the marquee.

“Hey you.” His fingers wrapped around a single white rose, “For you.”

You took it, “You got me a flower?”

“A white rose.”

“I see that.”

He titled his head and pointed, “Do you know what it means?”

“The rose? No.”

Johnny told you, “Innocence and new love.”

“Love again, Johnny?” Pretending to wince, you turned from him and started towards the doors, “This is slowing down your two week time frame.”

You could hear him laugh, his feet padding against the concrete, and then Johnny was standing right next to you. He grabbed the door handle with one hand, ushering you in with the other, “Maybe. But, I have to establish that this is a date and not just us hanging out.”

You looked at him, only briefly, over your shoulder, “I know it’s a date.”

Johnny stepped into the line of people waiting for tickets, hand still on your back, “Do you?”

“Do you?”

He grinned, “Of course I know it’s a date. I’m the one who asked.”

“Not that.” The flower twirled between your fingers; innocence and new love. The weight of the knowledge that Johnny had much longer to process any changing feelings was heavy. Throughout the day, that weight only grew and settled on your shoulders like it was taunting you, dragging out your every move. It was fine enough to joke about it, but the reality of an actual date coupled with kisses you wished wouldn’t end and a single white rose made you pause. You looked up at him, that look that look that look he gave you was hypnotizing, dizzying, different but still nice. So, you clarified, “Do you love me?”

It was enough to make Johnny pause, too. It was enough to make him look away from you in thought. You wondered if it was enough to make him feel the same kind of weight that you did, but you guessed not when he shrugged, “I don’t know.”

For some reason, his answer didn’t settle like it should have. It didn’t bring you any sort of ease or comfort, it almost stung. He was so sure, as always, as promised. You weren’t sure you even wanted him to love you, because the question was still up for debate if you could love or even romantically like him.

The line shifted, you both followed, “Then let’s make a deal. We don’t mention the word love until one of us - either one of us - knows.”

Johnny agreed, “Okay. Deal.”

The line shifted once more, and again, and again until you two were at the counter. Johnny got the tickets, handing yours over and settling his hand on your shoulder, this time, to lead you towards snacks. After a moment of silence in the concession line, Johnny told you, “I could, though. I won’t mention it again, but I could.”

“You could what?”

“Love you.” He squeezed your arm, stepping up to the counter and leaving you behind him. You waited for him to order and pay, fiddling with the flower and staring after him. Johnny was back at your side, passing you a bag of popcorn and leading you away again before adding, “But, I promise I won’t bring it up anymore. We’re theater five, right?”

You nodded; an acknowledgement and a confirmation in one gesture. Johnny stole some of the popcorn, both of you weaving through the crowd, and that was that.

The movie was fine, better than the night before. You wanted to tell Jaehyun that Johnny could, in fact, pick decent movies. The thought, while Johnny’s fingers were laced through yours, made you still. The thought, while Johnny kept you close and led the way through the crowds of dispersing movie goers, made you shiver. The thought of Jaehyun while Johnny smiled down at you and rubbed gentle circles onto the back of your hands made you feel so incredibly guilty.

You begged your mind to stop, if only for the night. Begged your mind to take note of your feet, where they stood, and ground you there. You pleaded with the thoughts, asking them to slip into the shadows and respect where your body was; standing next to Johnny, holding the rose in between your hand and his, wandering through a park in comfortable silence.

“What’s on your mind?” Johnny bumped you with his shoulder, your steps were perfectly lined up; he was taking smaller strides to match you. It didn’t go unnoticed, “You're up in your head. I want to be selfish and remind you that you should be on Earth. With me.”

You looked at him, maybe in complete awe, because, “That’s exactly what I was thinking about.”

Johnny stopped and tapped your forehead, “Then get out of there.”

You laughed before nodding up at him, “Okay, I’m back.”

Johnny laughed, too, “Can I ask why you were stuck up there?”

“You want me to get stuck again?”

You couldn’t tell him. Of course, he did not and could not know that. Johnny shook his head, “Absolutely not.”

“It’s just…” You twisted your lips in thought, nose scrunching and eyes searching for an answer in the park benches, cobblestones, trees and wilting flowers around you, “It’s still a lot to take in, you know?”

“You keep saying that.” He was giving you that look again. You wondered how many identical looks, just like that, you’d missed in the last six months; wondered if noticing them would have changed anything, “Is it too much?”

“I don’t think so. It’s only been twenty-four hours.”

“So, time will help?”

“Time will help.” Johnny licked his lips, likely tasting the lingering movie theater butter. You followed the path of his tongue, maybe too focused on something you’d never considered before. Then, you asked him, “Have you always kissed like that?”

Johnny couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, head tilted towards the stars and his hand flat against his stomach, “As far as I know, yeah.”

“Damn. If only I had known that sooner.”

He raised an eyebrow, “How much sooner?”

“Hm.” You twirled the rose, now hanging loosely in your hand, alone, “Remember when you tried to kiss me under the mistletoe?”

“Which time?”

“The first time. At the winter dance.”

“That far back?” Johnny mimicked shock, leaning back and widening his eyes. He quickly shook his head, “I don’t think I was that good, back then. You had a pretty good reason not to, anyway.”

“Oh God. Don’t bring that up.”

“Don’t bring up what?” He was taunting you, he always did. Johnny started walking again, waiting for you to catch on and catch up, “Don’t bring up Sicheng?”

“I’m begging you.”

“Dong Sicheng.” He mulled over the name, his steps wide, but slow. Like he was walking to a beat only Johnny could hear, “That breakup was brutal. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry like that.”

You laughed a bit, though it was rooted in truth, “He broke my heart, Johnny.”

Johnny laughed too, “He extended his exchange program for as long as they’d let him. What was he supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. Not move back, I guess?”

“But if he hadn’t moved back, you probably wouldn’t be here with me, now.”

You shook your head, eyes scanning the ground and your feet and anything but Johnny, “Nah, I don’t think we’d still be together.”

From the moment Dong Sicheng walked into the room, you thought of nothing else. To say you were smitten wasn’t doing your unadulterated infatuation any justice; Sicheng had felt the same. It was a completely different feeling than you’d felt in your adult life, maybe a feeling you’d spent time chasing. It was different, even now, with Johnny. If the girl who had fallen in love with Sicheng was in your current position, she’d have no trouble devoting all her attention to Johnny.

It just wasn’t the case. Age, maturity, perspective or conflicting feelings - whatever it was - changes everything.

Johnny stopped again, breathing out a quiet, “Wow.”

“Wow?”

“In a world where Sicheng didn’t leave, you think you’d still be here? On a date with me?”

You smiled, but shrugged, “Probably.”

Johnny clicked his tongue, “Huh.”

“You’re very convincing. Really good at it, actually.” It suited Johnny to be that way; his encouragement had taken the four of you on a lot of adventures. Even so, even with Johnny pushing you to step out and step up and do something wild, he never did so in a way that felt uncomfortable or forced. You knew him, just as he knew you. All Johnny ever wanted was for people to feel comfortable and welcome, “Also…”

“Also?”

“I trust you.” The smile Johnny gave you when you said that conjured up a butterfly to find a home in the pit of your stomach, like you’d said the most wonderful thing imaginable to him. You faltered a bit, focusing back on the rose, “What?”

Johnny had found a comfortable position leaning against a tree. His arms were crossed over his chest and that same look stayed perfectly on his face, “I know….look, you and I never really speak so deeply. Not without a lot of jokes and not one on one, like this. But, I just want you to know how much that means to me.”

“What? That I trust you?”

He nodded, “Also that you’d pick me over Sicheng.”

“Oh my God.” Your eyes rolled back, amused but imitating annoyance, “I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.” He paused, “I’m serious, though. It really…means everything to me.”

“Can I ask you something? In the spirit of talking seriously?”

“Go ahead.”

You let out a held breath, calming the newly formed butterfly and seeking out courage, “If this doesn’t work out…if we try and it goes wrong or it just doesn’t go right, will we still be friends?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t hesitate. You didn’t expect him to, but it still rattled the butterfly into a frenzy, once more. A smile crept onto your lips, a sense of security you had been seeking for the last twenty-four hours or more. The worst thing that could result from this was losing Johnny; losing any of the three of them, really. Knowing he’d still be around eased your mind, a pinch.

“Good.”

He stepped towards you, “But, can we make another deal?”

“Mhm.”

“Try not to think about it ending before it’s even started, okay?” Johnny’s eyes looked directly into yours, unblinking and shining and warm, “Give me as much of a chance as you can. If you need me to pull back, just tell me. But, don’t think of the end just yet. Can we do that?”

You wanted to blink, the fall wind nipping at your eyes. There was a part of you that was afraid to; afraid to blink and miss this moment, maybe blink it away entirely. You kept staring, your smile growing wider as you nodded and scrunched your nose, “Deal. I can do that.”

Johnny waited a moment before he leaned closer, lips hovering over yours. He watched out, carefully and quietly, and asked in a whisper, “Pull back?”

You didn’t answer him, not vocally. Instead, you closed the distance between you and kissed his lips.

📻

It was the same every weekend. The four of you would find your way back to the loft, one by one, after a week of working and, for Mark, classes. You’d mingle and laugh and review the events of the week. You’d drink and dance and stay up well into the morning, like you were all still teenagers. Eventually, you’d melt into the same, familiar pile on the mattress; a mess of intertwined limbs, pillows and warm blankets. The stars would shine above you and you’d fall asleep, counting them and counting breaths and holding onto the moments of silence in your favorite place.

You were the first to arrive this week.

The loft was impossibly still, leaves slipped off tree branches and bounced across the panes of glass; scraping and sliding and slipping away to the ground. You lost track of time, sitting there with your hands in your lap, headphones whispering your favorite tune just for you, watching fall sweep away any traces of summer. Time always moved too fast, outside of the loft, it slipped away like the leaves. But, inside, wrapped in your favorite blanket, with your favorite people, in your favorite place, everything slowed down.

You felt nostalgic and eager all at once.

Every inch of the loft held a memory, but every night spent here built more and more on top of those memories, making it impossible not to cherish every minute.

Jaehyun came after you, startling only for a second seeing you in the middle of the floor. You smiled at him, he smiled back, but you didn’t move or take your headphones out. Jaehyun just joined you, leaning close enough that he could hear the music, too, and staring at the same leaves, the same gusts of wind, the same remarkable nothing you’d been looking at.

It was easy to be silent with Jaehyun. It had always been. The two of you had perfected communicating in glances, in pointed looks, in shrugs and in smiles. So, in those moments where you felt something would be, should be, could be said but you failed to find the right words, you’d look to Jaehyun. You would stay silent and he would know exactly what you meant in the way you blinked, the tilt of your head, the slump of your shoulders.

You’d do the same for him, always always always.

You’d always have your eyes on Jaehyun, in case he needed to say something without saying it. In the moments he needed to be heard while staying silent. In the moments Jaehyun needed to be read. The thought reminded you how hard it had been to read him, less than a week ago. The corner of his lips, so close to you now and perfectly in view, was taunting and daunting and upturned.

Jaehyun looked at you. You didn’t know when you’d stopped watching the leaves and turned your attention towards him, maybe when the woman in your ears crooned, softly, “And I said, I love this boy so much.” Maybe it was the way she repeated it, four times, and how you were almost certain Jaehyun could hear it.

But, even if he could hear it, even if he was listening, would he ever really hear what she was saying. Would he ever feel the moments when you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking in his. Would he ever feel the way your heart beat when he held you close and urged you to sleep, truly sleep. Would Jaehyun ever feel any of it? If he did, would Jaehyun feel the same. And, if he did, would Jaehyun ever do anything about it.

You blinked, slowly altering your expression before he caught on and it worried him, “How was work?”

He had tossed his jacket to the side when he came in and loosened his tie around his neck, three buttons as well. He looked intentionally disheveled and tired, but he always looked like this, come Friday afternoon.

Jaehyun only shrugged, pulling one of your earbuds out and putting it into his own ear, “It was fine. Did you finish your book?”

“No.” Your tongue threatened to spill the secrets of your week, the reason you were behind on work and hesitated to answer his calls, text him back, even think of Jaehyun. Johnny. You had to hold yourself back from telling Jaehyun I spent a fair amount of time making out with Johnny. Looking away from Jaehyun, down at where your hands flirted with the idea of touching, you sighed, “I was really distracted this week.”

Jaehyun almost asked why, but his stomach twisted into knots at the potential answer. Since Sunday, since you told him Johnny confessed, you two had never addressed the subject again. Things went back to normal and Jaehyun convinced himself that because you hadn’t asked for his input, it meant you’d come to a conclusion on your own. He hoped the conclusion was not to date Johnny and he hated that hope. Johnny was perfectly fine, Johnny knew you, Johnny would no doubt take care of you and Jaehyun had watched you date other men before. He had managed just fine, then.

This time felt exponentially different to him. To both of you.

Jaehyun didn’t want to believe what he knew to be true; he was jealous that, if you decided to date one of your friends, it wasn’t him.

He didn’t want the clarification, he didn’t want to know more unless he had to. So, Jaehyun wouldn’t ask. He’d stay silent and he’d behave as he normally would; he’d hold your hand and hold you close and Jaehyun would tell you everything he could without saying it outright. He wouldn’t ask. He wouldn’t ask a thing.

In stopping his question, his lips failed to block his statement. Something he couldn’t tell you with a look, a smile, a sigh. A simple observation, as he watched you, “You look really beautiful, right now.”

He meant it. The sun had formed a halo around your head as it slipped behind some clouds, closer and closer to setting. Your cream colored sweater hung loose on your body, Jaehyun guessed it fit like that because it wasn’t your sweater, to begin with. It could’ve been his, maybe Johnny’s, he was almost certain he’d seen Mark wearing that same sweater two weeks ago when the weather first shifted. Either way, it suited you; the color, the fit, the halo of light. You did look truly so beautiful to him.

So, he meant it. And he said it. And Jaehyun didn’t really try to take it back or hide it, because the way you smiled at him before looking away again was enough to stop his heart. It was enough to make you glow even more, if possible.

You smiled and opened your mouth to say something once, twice. The only thing that came out was a laugh, one that Jaehyun echoed.

“Hand.” Jaehyun turned his palm upwards, holding his hand out to you. You took it, you always took it, you would always take it, “Tell me about the book.”

You sighed, leaning to rest your head on his shoulder, “It’s so….boring.”

His body shook with another short laugh underneath you, and it was impossible for you to keep your own laugh at bay. Jaehyun asked, “What’s it about?”

“Not a clue.” You peeked at him, taking in what part of his face you could. The way his hair was pushed away from his face, covering the tips of his ears. He’d kept it long since the spring, it suited him, “I’m sixteen chapters in, out of forty-three, and I have no idea what is going on.”

“Who wrote it?”

“Mm, someone named Lee Donghyuck? His pen name is Lee Haechan.” You let out a short groan, focusing on your hands in his lap, “I feel bad, it’s his first book. He’s younger than Mark and it’s not that he’s a bad writer, I just….”

“You’ve been distracted.” Jaehyun repeated. He was right. He still didn’t know why he was right, you still didn’t want to tell him. So, you both stayed silent for a moment, “Clear your head this weekend. Start over on Monday.”

“And if that doesn’t work? My deadline is in two weeks.”

Jaehyun thought for a moment, wind shook the windows and the song playing for the two of you stopped, a different tune following immediately after, “Read it to me.”

“Read the book to you?” He only nodded, hand still firmly in yours, “You don’t have to do that, Jae.”

“I want to.”

“You’re really going to hate it.”

He shrugged his shoulders, a second time since he’d been home. Jaehyun looked down at you, with his recently unreadable expression, “Not if you’re reading it.”

It was so easy for him to make your heart stop and it was even worse that he didn’t have a clue that he did it. You sat upright, leaning away from him again and listening to your music too intently; the world outside of the loft, moving at the speed of light, suddenly seemed more interesting. Like you’d rather be standing in chaos, overwhelmed, than sitting so close to Jaehyun that he might hear your heart falter or stop all together.

“What are we going to do tonight?” You asked, picking at the blanket on your lap, “Did we have a plan today? I know Mark wanted to go to the park tomorrow. I guess there’s a busking thing he wants to go to.”

Jaehyun shrugged again, the third time, “I don’t think there’s a plan, but the fridge is empty from last weekend. So, someone is going to have to go on a grocery run.”

“I can do that.” Johnny said from the door. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder, still in his white shirt and black pants from work. He smiled at the two of you, dropping his pack on the floor next to Jaehyun’s discarded jacket and tucking his hands into his pockets, “Who wants to come with?”

Mark came up behind him, “I don’t want to go. I’ve been walking all day.”

The youngest flopped down on the mattress, spreading out as wide as he could. You had been smiling at Mark, half listening to Jaehyun tell Johnny he didn’t want to go but he’d pitch in. The album you’d been listening to had looped and reshuffled and repeated, playing the same song. When Jaehyun turned to you, to ask if you wanted to go with Johnny, you could hear her again, “And I said, I love this boy so much.”

Jaehyun heard it too, clearly this time and not muffled. If he visibly faltered, you missed it, but he could feel his heart flip in his chest at the way you looked at him, at the way his breath caught. His mind split in two; he let himself find a new hope that maybe that look was because you were thinking of him and choked down the thought that it could have been Johnny in your mind. Jaehyun couldn’t stop himself from wondering if you thought of him when you listened to these songs or if you thought of Johnny. The woman singing hadn’t even said the line a second time before Jaehyun composed himself, but that split second felt like a lifetime of the two of you looking at each other while she sang something only you two could hear.

Jaehyun cleared his throat and said to you, “You’ve been here the longest, you should go with Johnny.”

Christ, the last thing he wanted you to do was go with Johnny. Jaehyun somehow made himself say it, made himself calm and collected and remained grateful that his hair was covering his heated ears. You nodded, standing and adjusting your clothes, your hair, fidgeting to avoid thinking.

You circled around the thought that it seemed so easy for Jaehyun to encourage you to be near or with Johnny and that, maybe, he would never feel what you did.

Jaehyun pulled out his wallet, handing you his card, “You know the code.”

You mumbled, “Yeah.” Then put out your other hand for your earbud. Jaehyun stared at it for a moment before he remembered. She was singing, longing and breathy, “I want to get to you” when he pulled the bud from his ear and dropped it in your hand. You smiled and looked at Johnny, “Is it cold out?”

He shrugged and wiggled his hand in a noncommittal gesture to answer, “You want my jacket?”

Johnny had started to squat, reaching for his bag. Jaehyun stopped him, telling you casually, “Just take mine. It’s already out.”

So, you did. You slipped it on and held your breath as long as you could to avoid breathing him in. Mark was all but passed out on the mattress, Jaehyun had busied himself on his phone and Johnny was opening the door for you to step out onto the rooftop of Jaehyun’s childhood home. The two of you left, without a word. You changed the music playing in your ears, something more upbeat, and offered Johnny the other earbud. He took it, took in the music and took your hand, twirling you down the street. It was like the spin pulled you out of your head, the counteracting swirls of thought and movement clashing enough to pull you back to Earth.

That’s where Johnny wanted you, dancing down the street with him to a song you both knew. That’s where you should be, where you wanted to be. Still, you looked over your shoulder up at the loft. It was surrounded by clouds, a cool-toned sunset forming behind them. The loft was floating above the rest of the world, hovering over you and Johnny and the street you danced down. If Jaehyun was watching, you couldn’t see him and maybe that was for the best. Maybe it would allow you to be the version of you Johnny deserves; the one Sicheng got in the sense that Johnny suddenly had all your attention. Here. On Earth.

And the grip he had on your hand, loose but leading, helped pull you back down to the ground.

“Smart move.” Mark’s voice was muffled by the pillow he had smushed his face against, but Jaehyun heard him well enough, “Give them alone time.”

“Huh?” It was simple enough to play dumb, especially when Mark was barely awake and not looking, “I’m just too tired to walk to the store.”

Mark didn’t answer, already snoring as soon as he’d stopped speaking. Jaehyun waited until he knew you were a safe enough distance away to look down at the street. Johnny had your hand in his, swinging it wildly and pulling you in and out of spins, dips and lifts. Jaehyun felt like he was watching you from the clouds, watching you live a life separate from him. He’d always been right there with you, grounded on Earth at your side. Instead, he was floating above and watching.

He hated the feeling more than he could ever say. But, he urged himself away from the ledge of seething anger, uncontrollable jealousy, when he saw you turn around and look up at the loft. When Jaehyun saw you looking up towards the clouds, up towards him.

So long as you did that, you’d tug on his heart to hope.

📻

You weighed the options in your hand, the fluorescent lights of the corner store shining down on you and the two bottles of Soju in your hand. Johnny had wandered off to another aisle, some time ago, finishing up what you came here to do. You could hear the clank of glass bottles and his voice before you saw him at the end of the aisle, leaning against the shelf and smiling at you, “God, I really hate when people do this?”

You didn’t look up, “Do what?”

“When they don’t put things back where they go.” Johnny took five long strides to get to you. He sighed, as obnoxiously as you imagined he could manage and mostly to get your attention, “Like why is there a snack in the drink aisle?”

“What?” Finally you looked up. The expression on Johnny’s face was pride, if you had ever seen it. Still, you looked around the aisle expecting to see a wayward bag of chips or a misplaced candy bar. Johnny pointed directly at you, still as proud. You groaned with realization, putting one bottle back and stepping around him, “Please get away from me.”

Johnny laughed, the sound breaking the silence in the otherwise quiet convenience store, “That was clever. It took me the entire walk to and from the chip aisle to come up with that.”

“Do people still say that? Snack?”

“It was appropriate for the setting.”

He was following behind you, bottles tapping against each other in the basket, “I’m going to start keeping a tally of the corny things you say.”

“What’s the breaking point?” He asked, coming up beside you, “For the tally?”

“I don’t know yet.” You couldn’t help but laugh, tucking your shampoo into the basket and turning down another aisle to head towards the cashier. Johnny followed, once more, “Maybe ten.”

“Ten, huh?”

“Six?”

He paused, “Wait a minute. What do I lose if I get to ten?”

“Maybe six.”

“What do I lose?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know that yet, either.”

“So, it’s an empty threat?” Johnny leaned in, nose close to brushing yours, “That’s not gonna stop me.”

“It should.” You kept walking, greeting the cashier and waiting for Johnny to pile everything on the counter. He watched you pay, handing Jaehyun’s card over and politely thanking the cashier for what Johnny counted was the third time since you two had been in the store. He followed you out, nodding his head in a bow to the employee and carrying two of the three bags. You looked at him, over your shoulder, “Come on.”

He smiled, didn’t say anything for a while, but walked faster instead of trailing behind. He didn’t mind the view from either point, but Johnny did think it was important for him to note and for you to know, “You look beautiful.”

You didn’t hesitate to say, “Thank you.”

You didn’t shy away from Johnny or look down at your hand, the bag in it or the ground underneath it. You just accepted it as he wanted you to. Johnny thought you looked beautiful and it was as simple as that. He nudged your shoulder, “You look better in my jacket, but you still look good in Jae’s jacket and Mark’s sweater.”

“I thought this was your sweater?” Your eyebrow raised, lifting the fabric as though it would tell you the answer, “It’s Mark’s?”

Johnny didn’t answer, “Did you wear what you thought was my sweater because you knew you were seeing me?”

Immediately, your cheeks were burning and your mouth dropped open. The answer was not consciously, no. But, since Johnny had pointed it out, you felt only slightly shy. You tilted your head up, looking for a distraction in the stars and any breeze to cool your heated face. You could hear Johnny laugh, then heard him rustling his two bags just to your left before you felt his hand slip into yours. His lips were close to your ear when he said, “You look even more beautiful when you get flustered, like that.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, “Yeah. And, before we get too close to the loft and go back to pretending this week didn’t happen…” He didn’t sound bitter, but his words still nipped at you. You wanted to not want to pretend, but finding your footing in this was hard enough. Adding an audience would make it harder, especially when Jaehyun would have a front row seat. You looked up at Johnny, all the same, hoping you knew what he was about to ask. He pulled you to a stop, looking down at you and smiling, “Can I please kiss you? It’s been three days.”

“Oh no. Are you feeling….” You bit back a quiet laugh at your own joke, “peckish?”

To say Johnny looked offended, to say he looked shocked, wouldn’t do his expression any justice. He dropped your hand to hold his heart, “Do I need to start keeping a tally, too?”

“For what? You said I’m a snack, you want to kiss me.” You scrunched your nose, too clever for your own good, “So, obviously you’re feeling peckish.”

“You get to be corny but I can’t?”

Once more, your shoulders lifted in a shrug, “If you did it in moderation, maybe.”

“I’m going to kiss you, now.”

“Okay. Peck away.”

Johnny’s lips on yours was the furthest thing from a peck. It took your breath away immediately, eliminated any wit or snark or simple thought from your mind until all you could do was move your lips against his. You wondered if you had forgotten, in the last three days, what it was like to kiss Johnny. If maybe restraint had wiped your memory of it clean. But, this felt so different from what you remembered. Johnny kissed you like he might never get to again, like you were slipping away from him, like he was going to stop and you’d be gone. You’d never be able to know why, but it felt too good to dwell on the thoughts that might unravel the truth.

Johnny’s hands fiddled with the bag in yours until he’d taken all three of them in one of his hands. He broke away from you only to place them gently on the ground, enough time for you to stand breathless but never to catch your breath. He pulled you closer, flush against him and tucked away in the limbo between street lamps. His hands held your waist, slowly inching down and down and down until he stopped to ask you, “Pull back?”

You shook your head, but you both had your eyes closed. So, you breathed out, “No.” The sound caught in your throat, barely making it past your kiss-swollen lips.

Johnny’s hands fell to cup your ass, bringing you even closer if it was possible and pulling a moan out of your lips. You could feel him smirk, feel that prideful look creep back onto his face. The only sound was his breathing, your breathing, the rustle of the bags in the wind and the wet sound of your lips and your tongues together, together, together.

“Johnny.” His name on your lips sent him spiraling; sweeter than any treat he’d been given, any candy, cake or chocolate Johnny had tasted in his life paled in comparison to that sound. He groped at you, another moan that sounded almost as sweet, “Fuck.”

“Are you okay?” He was panting, kisses slowing but never stopping, his eyes still closed, “Do you want me to stop?”

Your instinct was to say no, maybe pull him down the alley that would lead to your house instead of the loft. Johnny, in his truest form, was urging you to be reckless and wild and out of any comfort zone you’d been in. But, you pulled back and told him, “We’ve been gone too long.”

He still didn’t open his eyes, forehead against yours while he caught his breath, “Give me a second.”

“Okay.” You held into him, giving him support to gather himself while he did the same to you. You kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck, tugging on his hair while your mind screamed for you to stop. To pause. To slow down. Your body took longer to listen, Johnny’s as well, “We should go.”

His breathing had evened out, Johnny pulled away. If you looked anything like he did, you’d give yourselves always as soon as you stepped foot into the loft. You adjusted Johnny’s collar, he fixed your hair. You smoothed down his hair, he wiped away the smudged mascara on your cheeks. Johnny turned and picked up all three bags, offering you his hand. You held it only until you reached Jaehyun’s street, offering him your earbud once more but opting for walking instead of dancing.

You both broke away, him spinning you out and dropping your hand, as you rounded the corner and came into view. It didn’t stop the glances between the two of you. Your heart fluttered with the secret of his lips on yours, his hands on you, the sound of his whimpers and moans. If you had ever told yourself you’d been in the position with Johnny, at any point in your life, it would have been almost impossible to believe.

But, looking at him looking at you, feeling the heat rush back to your cheeks at your most recent memory of Johnny’s lips on yours, you might have started believing in impossible things.

It felt nice.

📻

The sun took time to come up; unfolding itself from lingering and new clouds, rolling itself over the tops of buildings and filling the loft - inch by inch - with light. You watched the particles of dust dancing in the sunbeams for a while, softly twirling Mark’s hair. The strands coiled around your fingertips, having curled and twisted more as he slept. Johnny’s chest rose and fell underneath your head, somehow you had shifted further down in the night. You could hear his heart beating, even and soft.

Jaehyun was to your left, as he always was, hand in yours and snoring softly. His head was turned towards you, lips almost pressed against your exposed shoulder - Mark’s sweater was too hot to sleep in. You could feel Jaehyun’s breath, the moment it shifted from steady to short, waking breaths. He blinked a few times, taking in the morning, taking in you. Just as he had the week before, exactly a week ago. Jaehyun squeezed your hand and smiled, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, you wanted to scoot closer. You wanted a reason to be closer to Jaehyun. You didn’t dare move too much, didn’t dare wake up Johnny and Mark, “My head hurts.”

He reminded you, “We drank too much.”

You recalled bottles falling to the floor, not shattering but landing with percussive taps on the wood. Friday nights to Saturday mornings were always the hardest transition. You pulled your hand from Mark’s hair to cover your eyes, shielding them from the sun coming in. Behind your palm, the memories of music, of laughing, of dancing played. The four of you were scrambling to match your movements to each other so whatever you were doing, chaos disguised as dancing, seemed choreographed. It came in flashes; some quick and clear, some blurred and warped.

“Who fell asleep first?”

Jaehyun looked up, through his mussed hair and over the top of his pillow. He nodded towards your own pillow, “Johnny did.”

You said, “He has to make breakfast, then.”

“I’m not making breakfast.”

“You’re awake?”

Johnny grumbled, “You talk too loud.”

“We were whispering.”

He tapped the top of your head, urging you to lift it. Johnny stretched up and out, his arm landing between your head and Jaehyun’s for a moment. He rolled away from the pile, coming to sit up on his knees, “Mark technically fell asleep first.”

“He was napping. It doesn’t count.” You turned your head as much as you could to look at Johnny. He was watching you with a sleepy smile, hands pushing back his hair. Next to you, Jaehyun closed his eyes, fingers tapping against the back of your hand. You smiled back at Johnny, “Wake him up to help.”

“You’re not going to help?” It wasn’t a pout, but it came close. Johnny yawned, head falling back, “Fine. Mark, wake up.”

From his place, nuzzled against your stomach, Mark grumbled, “No.”

“We have to make breakfast.”

“No. You have to make breakfast.” He settled himself in more, reaching up for your hand to place it back in his hair, “You fell asleep first.”

Five minutes of bickering and bribing before Mark pulled himself up and away from the mattress. You and Jaehyun stayed, hands still together. It took a moment for the morning to sink in, the quiet of it without your music and without any other noise than your breathing. You’d spent more time being conscious in the daylight, today, than the three of them had, but Saturday was still just as fresh to you. The sun, having rested from the week, was refreshed and kissed your skin in a way it only did on the weekend. The air felt different, the silence felt different.

Maybe it was the way your head was pounding, maybe it was the way you needed to ground yourself again. Maybe the alcohol from the night before had yet to wear off. Either way, whatever reason, you rolled onto your side to face Jaehyun. When he looked back towards you, turning his attention away from the sky and focusing on your body next to his, you pressed your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

Jaehyun smiled, his dimples diving into his cheeks, his nose creasing at the bridge. If you had seen it, you might have melted. He took you in, really took you in; your chest rising and falling, the small smile tugging at your lips, how your hair had come loose from its hold in the night. You’d been restless in your sleep again. Jaehyun kept pulling you back down and towards him in the moments you shifted or squirmed.

It always seemed like the natural thing to do, the natural progression of things in your relationship. The shared birthday parties that lead to sleepovers that lead to tracing constellations on your skin that lead to silent conversations that lead to an understanding of each other that was impossible to breach. It was natural.

Without much thought, without a word, Jaehyun pulled back to press a kiss on your forehead. He was quick to put his forehead back against yours, back where you decided it needed to be on a fall, Saturday morning, “Bad dream?”

You didn’t answer, you didn’t need to and your tongue was tied in your mouth, so you didn’t think you could. Instead you held your breath and shook your head, slowly. Jaehyun lifted his other hand, smoothing down your hair before resting it on your arm. After a moment of soft circles on your skin, he scooted himself closer to you. You moved, too, closing the space. The natural progression of things.

“I’m so hungry.”

He secured you in his arms, “They’re probably destroying the kitchen.”

“I don’t want to help.”

Jaehyun breathed out, “Me either.”

You could hear the soft hum of music from two floors down, the clattering of pots and pans and Johnny instructing Mark on what to do. Only fifteen minutes had passed when it was all interrupted by the sound of smoke alarms blaring. You opened your eyes, finally. Jaehyun blinked at you, you blinked back. Both of you sighed, pushing yourselves up and pulling apart. It was decided, in two blinks, that the two of you didn’t have a choice but to help. A silent conversation, a natural progression. So, you stood and Jaehyun handed you his sweatshirt he’d changed into, last night, to keep you warm from the loft to the kitchen.

Johnny saw you first, a smile on his face as he popped a grape into his mouth, “Mark burnt the pancakes.”

“Of course he did.” Jaehyun laughed but was quick to help Mark. The youngest was pushing something around in a pan, brow furrowed in a mix of concentration and confusion, “Go mix more batter.”

Mark backed away, “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Mark.” You told him. He knew, of course. Mark adjusted his glasses, taking a spot next to Johnny and reaching for the whisk. You put your hands on Mark’s waist, stepping around him, “Look out.”

Pushing open the window over the sink, you ushered the smoke filled air outside and hoped it would quiet the alarms. It didn’t. So, grabbing a kitchen towel, you went down the hall to the detector, stood on your tiptoes and fanned the air around it.

“Here.” Johnny’s voice was directly in your ear. You could smell the oranges he had been cutting, the scent breaking through that of burning batter and smoke. His hands held onto your hips and Johnny lifted you up, slightly, so you were closer to the ceiling, “I’ve got you.”

The beeping stopped, he lowered you down, “Thanks.”

He told you, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

Johnny kept his hands firmly on your hips, asking, “Do you have your phone on you?”

You nodded, “Yeah, why?”

He didn’t answer, but took the kitchen towel from you and took a step down the short hallway, still looking at you, “Do you like this song?”

Since you had been downstairs, the music had been too soft under the shrieking alarm, the clatter of pans and spoons and bowls, Jaehyun instructing Mark from a distance. The sounds had all mixed together until one by one they were eliminated. Now, it was just the music, twisting around the corner and coming down the hall from where Johnny’s speaker sat on the counter. He watched you, taking in the song for the first time. After a moment, you nodded your head.

“It’s nice.” You decided, “Why?”

Johnny didn’t say anything after that, he only nodded back and turned completely to walk the rest of the way into the kitchen. You could see him stick his hand in his pocket, pull out his phone, tap something on it and then put it back. And you probably should have predicted it, but you still jumped a bit when your own phone went off in the pocket of Jaehyun’s sweatshirt. Your eyes rolled back, taking it out and taking a few steps, “Johnny, what the fuck? Just tell me…”

You stopped yourself, only in his line of sight for the time being. The message on your phone made your heart skip in the way his smile had been, the way his kisses did; that secretive tingle that rustled butterfly wings to flight in your stomach. Johnny watched you, every second you stared at your phone - only a few, but long enough. You faltered between a smile and neutrality, tapping on the link; a playlist of about thirty songs, the title of it was simply your name.

Finally, you looked up at Johnny. He chomped on another grape, but quickly and silently mouthed, “You’re blushing again.”

📻

“If her sister was bright, shining and vibrant, then she was the sun - so intensely beaming, that nothing could rival her.” You turned the page with a sigh, “He would always dare to look directly at her; happy to go blind if it meant he could be so close.”

Jaehyun had his head on your lap, “That’s the end of the first chapter?”

“It’s the middle of it.”

The blanket underneath the two of you whipped about in the wind, calming and bunching around your legs. Jaehyun pulled it out, smoothing it down again before he sighed, as well, “It’s not…that bad.”

“It’s really not.” Around you, the hum of the busking festival filled the air; guitars and stereos, drumbeats and vendors shouting. It was a chaotic mix of sound and smells and sights. Mark and Johnny were lost somewhere in the middle of it, “It’s just so…”

“Wordy.”

“Wordy.” You agreed, tapping Jaehyun in the middle of his forehead, “And he’s spent almost the entirety of the first chapter describing how perfect she is, which is frustrating.”

At that, Jaehyun shook his head. He kept his eyes closed, settled and comfortable in your lap, but you could tell he was thinking, mulling over the words you’d spent the last half hour reading and deciding on saying, “I don’t think that’s it. She’s not perfect, it’s just how the narrator views her. He’s in love with her, so he sees the best parts of her.”

Leaning back to rest your head on the tree behind you, you hummed, “Does love always mean only seeing the good, though?”

Jaehyun shook his head, “No. But, you’re only halfway through the first chapter and there’s forty-three of them. Maybe the bad will come out.”

You looked at Jaehyun, your fingers tugging lightly at strands of his hair. You watched as he swallowed and his cheeks gave way to his dimples, just for a second, unaware in such a blissful way on your lap, “Have you ever loved someone like that? That they were the sun and you’d willingly go blind looking at them?”

Jaehyun didn’t hesitate to say, “Yes.”

Behind closed eyes, he thought about you the night before; how the sun was blaring behind you, in its final stretch of light, and how he’d stare as long as he could to see that halo of light around you. He could feel you shift underneath him, the way your breathing changed and, for only a second, Jaehyun thought about telling you. He could tell you, he could tell you everything; that it was you he’d stare into the sun for. You were the sun. His heart leapt into his chest while yours sunk to the ground, words weighing heavy on the tips of both your tongues.

You gnawed at your lip to keep questions at bay; who was it he loved so much, why had he never told you? Who filled him with the same warmth as the sun, who made him burn? You kept your eyes down, watching Jaehyun and how the sunbeams slipped through the sparse leaves to dance across his face. You didn’t have to stare into the sun for him, the sun followed Jaehyun wherever he went; lighting him up perfectly in front of you.

Still, you looked up. You heard leaves crunching behind you and you looked up, towards the sun, following two pairs of feet until you saw him; Johnny. Surrounded by light, beams hugging the outline of his body and wrapping him in light. His smile was radiant, “There you are.”

Jaehyun opened his eyes, shielding them from the bits of light breaking through the Johnny-and-Mark shaped barrier. He watched you, the way you willingly looked up at Johnny through squinted eyes, despite the sun. Jaehyun was reminded of your conversation almost a week ago and he cursed himself for claiming support. Maybe he always would. Even still, he sat up, wiped his palms on his pants and scooted away from you.

Jaehyun looked up at Mark, not glancing at Johnny, and asked, “Did you guys find food?”

“Here.” Mark handed over something in a paper boat, plopping down on the blanket next to you while Johnny stepped around the blanket to sit next to Jaehyun, across from you. Mark bit at a french fry, smiling and bobbing his head to distant music, “It’s fun, right? I didn’t expect it to be so big.”

“I don’t think any of us knew what to expect.” Johnny handed you a drink from the carrier looped around his wrist. He looked at Mark with a teasing grin, sipping on his own drink, “You're really bad at explaining things.”

Mark’s mouth was full, “I am not.”

Jaehyun smiled, joining in on teasing Mark, “You called it a “busking thing” and it’s a whole festival.”

“There are buskers!” The youngest defended himself, “That’s what the flyers said.”

Johnny sipped on his own drink, “I almost expected a bunch of your college friends to just be…out here…busking.”

“Why would they do that?” Mark’s eyebrow lifted, his head tilted, he looked identical to a puppy. He almost always did; curious and kind and excitable. But, right now, confused, “Renjun is a linguistics major, Jeno is engineering and Jaemin switched to philosophy last semester. I don’t think any of them have an interest in music.”

“Mark, that’s not…” Johnny started, then released a sigh, “Never mind.”

Jaehyun moved the conversation, nudging Mark and asking, “Jaemin changed majors again?”

With a nod and quick swallow, Mark said, “I think he was trying to impress a girl. He actually really likes it though.”

You asked, “Isn’t he supposed to be graduating in the spring?”

Mark only shrugged, “We’ll see.”

The conversation settled, a new one swelling like the music and ruckus around you. The four of you, tucked under a tree with sparse leaves, munching and mumbling through mouthfuls of food. Mark mentioned a musician he saw, a dance troupe, an artist. You wondered how he could take in so much all at once, all the time. Mark never noticed one thing at a time, he saw every last detail in the world, or at least the things he loved. So, you would all take turns asking the appropriate follow up questions just to watch as the youngest would light up, answering with as many details as he could spare.

Eventually, you’d all picked at the food long enough that it was all scraps and empty cups piled in the middle of the blanket. Jaehyun and Mark stacked and scooped and gathered the trash, and when they wandered away to get rid of it, Johnny looked at you. The sun bounced off his eyes, or maybe it was mischief. Either way, they glistened and your stomach twisted the way it did when Johnny Suh was about to pull you out of comfort. He stood and offered his hand, wiggling his fingers in front of you, “Come on.”

“Why?” You hesitated, he could see it. So, Johnny shook his hand once more and waited until you took it. He pulled you, upright, “What are we doing?”

Johnny laced his fingers with yours, tugging, “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

He was guiding you through the crowds before you could argue with him. Instead, you countered, “That’s barely an answer.”

“An answer would ruin it.” He squeezed your hand, reassuring and comfortable and before you knew it, Johnny stopped, “Dance with me.”

In the middle of the food stalls, all of the organized chaos halted at a dance floor. Groups and couples and individuals twirling, spinning, stepping to the beat of the music from the booth in the corner of the floor. It was Johnny's turn to watch as your eyes sparkled, mouth open and breaking into a smile. He tugged, once more, at your relaxing hand, securing his hold on you to pull you onto the dance floor.

You didn’t have time to tell him no. You didn’t have any desire to tell him no, either. You followed Johnny and stopped when he did, and when the music hit your ears, you fell into step with the crowd and the music and him.

Both of you laughed, half shouting and half singing the lyrics you knew. You spun in a circle around yourself, Johnny countered by circling you; like a planet falling into orbit around the sun. He just watched you and smiled and he was happy to, as long as you looked like that; beaming, blissful, beautiful.

Johnny was caught in his own mind, then, remembering the moment he felt something new looking at you. A moment identical to this one at a party that was like any other, a party Jungwoo had thrown one insignificant day in April. Jungwoo had been fired and he was upset about it and that was a good enough reason, he guessed. A party where you danced like this, with Johnny, in Jungwoo’s kitchen, while everyone else talked or drank or played board games.

Just the two of you in the kitchen.

Johnny was caught in his memory, how his heart swelled and his lips went dry thinking of what it would be like to kiss you. He wavered in and out of past and present, reminding himself that he now knew what that felt like. He’d do it now, if he could. He’d lean down and kiss you, hidden by the crowd and caught up in the music.

The memory pulled him back, thinking of how you’d pulled him in, melted against him, thrown your head back and laughed. Johnny could still feel the vibrations of it against his chest; the vibrations that kick-started his heart after it had paused taking you in. He had said to you, “You’re so drunk.”

“Maybe.” You had laughed, broad grin pulling at red-painted lips, “But I also love this song.”

The sound of your voice cracking, singing a high note in the song, brought him back to the present. You laughed, he laughed and clapped his hands, stumbling back a bit. Your hands caught his arms to pull him away from knocking into someone else and kept pulling until he was against your chest. Once again, you melted. Slower this time, not encouraged by alcohol and restricted by too many eyes. Johnny smiled down at you, “I really want to kiss you.”

“Yeah?” Your voice came out quiet, eyes moving from his to his lips, back to his eyes. You said, again, “Yeah.”

“I shouldn’t, right?” Johnny swallowed, “Not here?”

Part of you wanted him to, still you agreed, “Probably not.”

Johnny said, “I like you.”

It still took you by surprise; as though you didn’t know, as though he hadn’t been telling you, consistently, for a week now. You blinked and tried to breathe, because you might have liked Johnny too, just then. In a different context, but the same way he meant it. You liked kissing Johnny, you liked dancing with Johnny. You liked when he took your hand, when he pulled you safely through crowds, when he smiled at you the way he did. You liked a lot of things about Johnny, so eventually, you might like him, too.

So, in that moment, you said, “I might, too.”

And Johnny grinned. Exactly how you hoped he would, he grinned. Not expectant and not teasing, but shining and pleased, “I can accept might. Might is….really good.”

“Good.”

“I’m going to dip you.”

You shook your head, words mixed with a laugh, “Absolutely not.”

“I think I should.” If you were going to reply, Johnny didn’t care or account for it. He ignored you. You wished he wasn’t so good at that. Johnny had his hands around your waist and he leaned you back, swiftly but carefully. It felt more like a stumble for the first few seconds. His hair covered his eyes, he licked his lips and told you for the second time that day, “I’ve got you.”

And you said, “I know.”

Johnny pulled you back up, tucked you safely against him at the edge of the dance floor; at the edge of the world. A world that was spinning, wildly, around the two of you while you stood completely still. Melted like that unsuspecting night in April.

Johnny said your name, you looked up at him, “I want to take you on another date.”

You hummed, following as he swayed the two of you, “You want to take me on another date?”

“That’s what I said.” His voice was just above a shout, trying to be heard over the music, but you were certain only you could hear him, “Are you free Tuesday?”

Nodding, you told him, “I should be, yeah. What time?”

“The whole day.”

You stopped swaying, pulling back to arms length to look up at Johnny. He seemed shocked, you likely did as well, repeating, “The whole day?”

“I took the day off.” His simplicity, his ease, his certainty came back to taunt you. He guided you into a spin, out and away and mixed in with the crowd. Then, Johnny pulled you back to where you started pressed against his chest, “I want to spend it with you. As much as you can, at least.”

“Okay.” It was easy to agree, the two of you like this. It was easy to look up at Johnny and agree with whatever he said, carried by the music and the energy around you. It was easy and it felt almost right, so you agreed, “I can do that.”

“Good. That’s really good.” He pushed you back, gently and fluidly, like he was starting a new dance. Then, Johnny nodded his head towards the border of the dance floor, “They’re looking for us.”

You followed his eyes, “Ah.”

You saw Jaehyun first, weaving in and out of the groups around the edge. Mark was close behind. Johnny had yet to let go of your hand, holding it for as long as you’d let him, as long as the crowd kept you hidden, as long as it took until you were spotted by familiar eyes. He didn’t mind, really. Johnny didn’t mind having these secret moments with you, not for the time being.

For the last week, all he could hear was your voice saying, “I don’t want to make you feel like a secret.” And he wanted to keep reminding you that he was okay. He wanted you to be okay; with him, with you, with all of it.

He knew it was only temporary. Johnny hoped it was only temporary. He tugged on your hand seconds before Jaehyun finally saw you. Your eyes were back to him, only him, “You look beautiful.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes and tapping your fingers on the back of his hand, “You said that yesterday.”

“I did. I meant it.” He grinned, “And I mean it, today.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll probably mean it tomorrow, too.”

“Thank you, Johnny.”

“I’ll mean it every time you let me say it.” Again, he squeezed your hand. You didn’t answer and Johnny let go, eyes leaving yours to focus behind you, “They’re here.”

Mark was next to you before you could blink. He saw the way your hand flexed at your side, watched Johnny’s hand go into his pockets and Mark smiled, more to himself, “Here you guys are.”

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