#anyway i just remembered to listen and I'm like oh yeah this is what the bg of my angry years was.

[moonriizing]

dear reader... again | 02z

One island. One daughter. Three possible dads. You just wanted peace and quiet—what you got was chaos, old flames, and a little girl asking for three dads.

Genre: destination au, strangers-to-lovers, smut Pairing: ENHYPEN Jake/Sunghoon/Jay x afab!reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+) MDNI, don't come at me but she ends up with just one guy and the smut is only with one of them Notes: 22k words. Guys, bear with me. I'm a long fic writer. Sometimes, I just can't help it. This is one of those times. This is a sequel to Dear Reader, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Loosely based on the 2008 movie, Mamma Mia! Disclaimer: I do not know them, nor claim they would ever in real life behave the way they were portrayed in this fic. If you see the same exact fic in a different blog, for NCT, that is me. I did not plagiarize myself; otherwise, lmk.

i: Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again

The drawing room was a war zone. Empty cups on every surface, leftovers here and there, balloons all over the floor. Your daughter had retreated to her bedroom to play with her new toys, leaving you with a garbage bag in one hand and three ghosts of your past sitting awkwardly on the couch.

You didn’t look at them as you threw another stack of paper plates into the bag. It was a good thing that your friends and two of Emma’s godmothers were keeping the room noisy as they helped you clean up. But at some point, Lea and Amy found a spot far across the room where they could interrogate you.

“Which one is it?” Lea asked immediately, like she hadn’t already asked the same thing three different ways in the past three hours.

Amy nudged her. “Were you listening? She didn’t check which one it was, remember?”

“What are they doing here anyway? Did you invite them?”

You huffed, glancing over your shoulder just long enough to catch the three of them talking. “No idea. They just showed up out of nowhere.”

“On Emma’s birthday? That can’t be a coincidence.”

“Oh, it’s definitely not a coincidence,” Lea muttered, shaking her head conspiratorially.

Unfortunately, she was right. It wasn’t a coincidence. When they showed up on your doorstep earlier, all three of them, the first question you’d asked had been: What are you doing here? And apparently, they had an answer.

Each of them had brought a letter from you. Letters you didn’t remember sending—because technically, you didn’t.

After a discreet interrogation with the staff, you found out how it happened. Last week, while clearing out the attic, you’d accidentally left a box on the counter marked “outgoing.” Inside were things you meant to throw away—old receipts, scribbled notes, and three unsent letters you’d written four years ago.

You remembered them now. You’d written those letters when Emma was in the hospital, and needed a blood transfusion, but her blood type was rare. You were scared. Desperate. You almost mailed them. But she got better before you had to.

Now here they were, delivered years late and right on time to ruin your peaceful little life. Still, that didn’t explain how they got here on the same day, at the exact same time. But when you asked, Jake had said:

“Oh, we actually missed the ferry, and Mr. Jay here was nice enough to offer his yacht.”

You’d scoffed. “Still parading the seas with that yacht?”

“Yeah, no,” Jay had replied smugly. “This one’s new. Got it just last year.”

Jake was the first to speak, stepping forward with a smile. “So... we were wondering,” he said, glancing briefly at Jay and Sunghoon, “if there might be any rooms available here? Just for a few days while we’re on the island.”

You raised an eyebrow but kept your voice steady. “You’re not leaving yet?”

Jay chuckled. “Why am I getting the feeling you don’t want us here?”

“Honestly?” you sighed. “Doesn’t matter much to me. But if you’re looking for a room, try somewhere else. I’m fully booked.”

Jake cleared his throat. “We’d pay, of course. No trouble.”

You shook your head firmly. “Sorry. You can pay me double, but the calendar will still be full until the end of the month.”

There was a pause as Jake glanced over at the other two. You saw Jay shrug before saying, “The boat’s got plenty of rooms. You guys can crash there while I’m around.”

Jake nodded quickly, but Sunghoon hesitated, eyes flicking to you. Jay turned back. “Guess that settles it. We’ll be on our way, then,” he said, offering a small wave.

“Yes. Please go,” you said briskly, waving your hand dismissively. Don’t come back, you wanted to add—but didn’t.

“It’s good to see you, sweetheart,” Jay grinned, winking before sliding on his sunglasses and turning away.

You grimaced, rolled your eyes, and went back to your chore. You reached for a trash bag, but someone else grabbed it before you could. It was Sunghoon, and you could still feel the warmth of his presence behind you even after he’d moved away. Jake and Jay had left, but he was still here.

“What are you doing?” you asked, though it was clear he was trying to help.

Of course, he was. You didn’t even have it in you to stop him when he started scraping paper plates into it, like this was just a normal evening in some alternate universe where he was your partner and this was his house, too.

“She’s very lovely,” Sunghoon said after a moment of nothing but silence between the two of you. “Emma, I mean.”

“She is,” you replied flatly despite the nervousness slowly creeping up your chest.

“She’s six?” he asked and you nodded. “Is her dad around?”

You exhaled sharply, dropping the broom. “It’s really none of your business, Hoon. I’d rather we don’t talk like we’re old friends. Or act like we knew each other at all.”

Sunghoon sighed, saying your name softly, but you didn’t want to hear it. You walked out of the hall and found something else to do in the kitchen, hoping he’d be gone at some point without you having to interact with him anymore.

You kept yourself busy, moving from one task to the next—stacking empty cups, folding napkins, wiping down surfaces—anything to avoid looking Sunghoon’s way. Every now and then, you caught him quietly working alongside you, silently scraping plates or gathering trash, never saying much.

You thought he would leave if you ignored him long enough, but the hours ticked by, the party noise died down, and still, Sunghoon stayed. You resisted the urge to ask him directly to go, too wary of what might come if you did.

Finally, as the last of the balloons were deflating and the floor was almost spotless, he gathered the last trash bag and gave you a small nod. Without a word, he slipped out the door. Relief washed over you.

Later that night, you sat in the living room with Amy and Lea, nibbling on some ham and cheese from the kitchen. The house was quiet, the staff had left, and Emma was sleeping quietly upstairs. A TV show was playing in the background, but no one was really watching.

“So,” Amy said, passing you the plate, “All three of them are here. Shy Boy, Lover Boy, and Play Boy. What’s going on?”

Lea shook her head, eyes narrowed. “Even with the letter mix-up and fate or whatnot, I still don’t get why now, after all these years.”

You shrugged, chewing slowly. “I don’t know. The universe probably has it out for me.”

Amy leaned back, thoughtful. “You seemed tense around Lover Boy earlier. What’s his deal?”

You glanced at the ceiling, choosing your words carefully. “He’s…” You threw your hands up in the air, frustrated. “He’s Lover Boy.”

“Oh,” said Amy, nodding in realization. “Of course. Yeah, I get it.”

“What is it?” Lea asked cluelessly. “I don’t get it.”

“Sunghoon is Lover Boy,” Amy explained plainly, though it wasn’t enough for Lea. “He’s complicated because, you know, he’s the guy she fell in love with, but then he left her because he was engaged to some other girl.”

Lea gasped. “Oh my god! Yes! I forgot that we called him Lover Boy because she was crazy about him.”

“I was not,” you said coolly, lifting your glass to your lips to hide your lie.

“Were too,” Amy said in a sing-song, smirking. You huffed and slapped her thigh, earning a surprised yelp and a fit of giggles from both of them.

“Whatever. I’m not doing this with you guys,” you said, standing and brushing crumbs from your lap. “I’m going to bed.”

“Who else would you talk to if not us?” Lea called after you, laughter chasing you up the stairs.

You padded down the hallway, quiet now that the party was over and the girls were left to their wine and gossip. Your bedroom door was ajar, but you kept walking past it and down to the end of the hall where Emma’s room was.

You pushed the door open gently and peeked inside. She was fast asleep, curled into a soft lump beneath her blanket, one arm wrapped tightly around the new stuffed animal she’d gotten today. You stepped in and sat lightly on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair from her face. Her breathing was steady. Peaceful. The sight of her always had a way of quieting something wild inside you.

“Goodnight, baby,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

You stood to leave, carefully pulling the blanket back over her shoulder, but just as you turned to go, a small voice cut through the quiet. “Mommy?”

You turned instantly. Emma had stirred, eyes half-lidded, voice thick with sleep. She reached out a hand, and you crossed the room again without hesitation, crawling gently onto the bed beside her. “I’m here, baby,” you whispered, wrapping an arm around her as she snuggled into your side.

She was quiet for a moment, her little fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. Then, softly, “Who were those men?”

You blinked. “What men?”

“At the party. I didn’t know them. The tall men.”

You hesitated, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. “Just tourists, sweetie. They were asking for some rooms.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “Are they mean?”

You frowned. “What? No. Why would you think that?”

“They made you sad,” she said simply, her voice already fading as sleep tried to reclaim her. “I saw you do the forehead thing.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat. That was the thing about Emma. Even when she didn’t fully understand something, she felt it. She had always been so in-tune with you, too sensitive for her own good sometimes.

“No, baby,” you whispered, kissing the crown of her head. “They’re not mean. Just a little complicated.”

Emma hummed, snuggling closer. “I don’t like that word.”

“Yeah, me neither.” She didn’t say anything else after that, and within moments, her breathing evened out again. You stayed where you were, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars scattered across her ceiling.You weren’t ready to explain who those men really were. You didn’t even have the full truth yourself yet. And quite frankly, you never really thought about introducing Emma to her dad one day. But then again, life has its own way of kicking you in the ass. With all three of them here, you knew you would eventually have to confront the truth and put a face on the dad you’d kept from Emma all these years. You just hoped she’d be ready when that day came. Or that you would.

ii: “Croissant. Closure. Co-Parenting?”

The next day, you spotted them before they saw you—Jake with a juice in hand, Jay chatting up the girl at the counter, and Sunghoon lingering by the window like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

Of all the cafés on the island, of course, they came to your favorite one. Amy followed your gaze and made a low, amused sound. “Would you look at that. Shy Boy, Lover Boy, and Play Boy, all in one place.”

“I told them to leave,” you muttered, flipping over the menu board even though you knew you were gonna order the same thing as usual.

Lea, who owned the cafe, leaned over the counter, eyes narrowing at the trio. “Shy Boy’s in flip-flops. I don’t think they’re leaving. Maybe they’re here for my famous croissant?”

“Sure,” Amy snorted. “Croissant. Closure. Co-parenting. Who’s to say?”

“I don’t care. They have to leave,” you huffed.

“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” Lea chuckled, turning to welcome another customer who’d just walked through the doors.

Jay was the first to spot you, unsurprisingly. He made a show of removing his sunglasses, flashing a smile so wide you wondered how it didn’t split his face open.

“Good morning,” he called, walking over to where you were standing by the counter. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Can’t say the same with you.”

Jay chuckled like the jab didn’t bother him. “Yeah, I missed you, too. Say, how would you like to join me today? I’m sightseeing.”

“Pass. Some of us have real jobs,” you deadpanned, eyes still fixed on the menu.

“You’re gonna bore a hole in that thing,” Jay said after a few seconds of watching you stare at the piece of cardboard.

You exhaled sharply and placed the menu down. Behind him, you caught Jake’s gaze, and he gave a small sheepish wave. Sunghoon didn’t approach—just gave a slight nod from where he sat, eyes cautious.

“What do you want?” you asked Jay, arms crossed.

Jay lifted a brow. “Coffee? A warm smile? To not be treated like a disease?”

“You can have the coffee,” you replied, nodding to the barista. “Smile’s out of stock.”

Jay grinned. “Where’s Emma?”

“School,” you replied briskly. “Not that it’s any of your business where my daughter is.”

“It’s not. I’m just trying to make conversation.” 

You didn’t say anything to that, just gave him a deadpan expression. Jay raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to speak, and seemingly trying to gauge if the look meant anything, but when you didn’t, he took a deep breath and shrugged. 

“Well, this place has a nice vibe. We’ll order something and be on our way. No need to panic.”

“I’m not panicking,” you snapped. Which, unfortunately, sounded exactly like someone who was panicking.

They sat at a table in the corner, quietly eating. Jake tapped on his phone. Jay flirted with the waitress. Sunghoon stared out the window. You pretended not to watch them, but your ears picked up every laugh and cough and scrape of a chair.

Amy leaned over again. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, poking at your food aggressively.

Lea leaned in as she pushed a small cup of espresso your way. “Be honest. Are you more mad that they came back, or that some part of you isn’t entirely mad?” You placed your fork down and didn’t answer.

“Oh my god. I can’t decide if I’m enjoying your despair or if I’m terrified of it,” said Amy, tutting as she shook her head at you,

“They’re just tourists,” you said through gritted teeth. “Let’s treat them as such.”

Just tourists, you told yourself. Just tourists my ass.

The sun was too bright for a Tuesday. You squinted up at it as you stepped out of a grocery store, two bags dangling from your arms, the baguette sticking out comically like something out of a cartoon. You walked down the winding road, exchanging smiles and pleasantries with a few people you knew.

Just as you were turning a corner, you spotted Jake in front of an old book shop, staring up at the sign with sunglasses far too big for his face. The owner, an old man with a permanent slouch, came out to greet him and usher him inside.

He hadn’t seen you yet. You considered ducking back inside and hiding in the alley between a patisserie and the bookshop, but fate was quicker. Jake turned at the perfect moment, smiling as soon as he recognized you.

“Hey,” he called, jogging over before you could pretend to be invisible. “I could help with that,” he offered.

You adjusted the bags in your hands. “No. I’ve got it.”

“Yes, but I insist, please.” He reached for one anyway, and you didn’t stop him, mostly because you were too tired to argue.

You walked side by side in silence for a few seconds. The streets were still sleepy at this hour—too early for tourists, too late for locals.  

Jake cleared his throat, shifting the bag in his hands. “So, uh, this place is lovely. The pastry is amazing. I had something yesterday—some kind of tart with fig and honey? It was amazing. I mean, not that I know anything about pastries. Or figs. I’m more of a donut guy, really. But you know—when in Rome. Or, uh, Corsica.”

You glanced at him sideways. He wasn’t looking at you, just staring ahead. He went on. “Also, everyone keeps smiling here. Like, aggressively friendly. One would think you’re not in France at all. Last time I was in the country, I went to Paris, and if someone smiled at you like that, they either want to sell you something or they’re about to scam you.”

That made you laugh, unexpectedly. Jake heard it and looked over, clearly startled, then smiled sheepishly. You cleared your throat after a few seconds, still a little red in the face. “You haven’t changed at all, Jake.”

Jake shrugged like he disagreed. “I did change a little. But you certainly haven’t.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He glanced at you, lips twitching into a small smile. “You’re just as beautiful as the first time I met you.”

You smirked. “On second thought, maybe you have changed.” You pointed to his choice of clothing. “You look more put-together. You must be doing better now.”

Jake smiled, that soft, earnest one that you used to find so endearing. “I am, thank goodness. My job is less stressful now. I’m doing much, much better. You, though? How have you been?”

“I’m fine. I’m sure you can tell that much.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he replied, nodding. “And you’ve got a daughter. Emma, right? She seemed really bright. She reminds me of you.”

You frowned. “You don’t know her.”

“I know enough,” he said gently, then added quickly, “I mean—not in a weird way. Just, you know. I saw her for a few hours, and she seemed... like she knows exactly what she wants. Just like you always did.”

You didn’t respond to that. The road curved ahead, and you were quiet again, but it was less awkward this time, more familiar. Like an old coat, neither of you knew how to take off. You stopped walking as your house came into view. Jake did too. You turned to face him. “What are you doing here, Jake?”

Jake looked confused. “Helping you with your bags?”

“No, I mean here here. On this island,” you clarified, sighing. “Why did you come here?”

Jake blinked. “What do you mean?”

You shot him a look. “I know you came because you thought I asked you to, but we cleared that up, didn’t we? So why are you still here?”

“Vacation,” he offered quickly. “I’m here on vacation. Sometimes I like to do solo trips. You know? Pick a spot on the map and go there. I’m a spontaneous person.”

“No, you’re not.”

Jake chuckled. “No, I’m not.”

You didn’t say anything to that, just shook your head and looked over your shoulder at your house by the cliffs.  “I should get these home,” you said finally, nodding toward the bags.

Jake blinked like he’d forgotten he was still holding one. “Right! Of course. Sorry. I’ll, uh—I’ll leave you to it.”

You turned toward the path that led back to your house, but paused after Jake called out your name. “It’s really good to see you again,” he said. And you knew he meant it.

You nodded. “Thanks.” Then turned and kept walking.

iii: “Okay, Ice Princess.”

You thought you’d feel calmer the second you stepped back inside your house. But the moment you opened the door, laughter—loud and familiar—echoed through the hall and made the veins in your temples throb. Jay was sprawled across your sofa, drink in hand, laughing at something Amy had said.

“There she is!” Amy called brightly the moment she saw you.

“My sweetheart,” Jay added, getting to his feet with arms outstretched like he expected a warm welcome.

You dodged the hug before he could reach you. “Ames, did you check the mail? Something came for you.”

Amy’s eyes widened. “Already? Wait—what day is it?” She didn’t wait for an answer, scrambling off the couch and disappearing into the study, which you’d turned into your office.

Jay followed you into the kitchen after Amy left, looking around the place. “Nice place you’ve got. Very you. Minimalist but cozy.”

“Glad you approve,” you deadpanned.

He grinned, tipping back the last of his drink before setting the glass on the countertop. “So... how have you been? You know, since our amazing little summer.”

“I’ve been fine.”

“Just fine?” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “‘Fine’ fine, or ‘not fine’ fine?”

“‘None of your business’ fine.”

Jay laughed, clearly entertained. “Okay, Ice Princess. What did I do? Why am I getting the cold treatment like we didn’t part in great terms on the best of circumstances all those years ago?”

The circumstances he was talking about were definitely not the best for you, but you didn’t wanna get into that with him. “I’m just trying to maintain a quiet life, Jay. Having you here gives me anything but that.”

Jay shrugged, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “Alright, fine.”

He was quiet for a minute, watching you pile up the groceries in their respective containers and cabinets. “Village’s changed a lot, hasn’t it?” he said after a while, glancing around. “I mean, there’s a wine bar now. A wine bar. When did this place get so bougie?”

“Not too long ago. More and more tourists are finding this place.”

“Is that why you turned this into a BNB?”

You hummed. “The plan was a hotel, but that takes so much more work, so I’m putting that on hold for now.”

Jay nodded slowly, then looked at you again, this time more carefully. “Your daughter Emma is adorable. I didn’t know you got married.”

You paused, hand hovering in the air as you were closing an overhead cabinet. “I didn’t.”

His eyebrows rose. “Oh. Huh. I just assumed. You know... kid, house, the whole ‘maintaining a quiet life’ spiel. Is the father out of the picture?”

You huffed, unwilling to have this conversation with him for the most obvious reason. “It’s really none of your business, but if you must ask, no, he is not in the picture. I have a daughter and I’m not married. That’s it.”

He gave a slow, thoughtful nod, like he was tucking that information away for later. “Yeah, I doubt you would have enjoyed being married. You always did like being independent.”

You said nothing, just continued your chore and pretended he wasn’t there. But it was easier said than done.

“I missed talking to you,” he said with a lilt. “Even when you’re being mean.”

“You are bothering me while I’m working. I’m not being mean.”

“Oh, I know,” he chimed, tilting his head. “This is you being civilized. It’s kinda hot.”

You rolled your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave?”

“I’m the master of my own fate, sweetheart. I don’t let anyone tell me what to do,” he said smugly. “Besides, this place is magnificent. Can’t blame a man for staying and reliving the nostalgia.”

You didn’t bother replying. Just turned away and kept unpacking, hoping he’d take the hint. Jay smirked, clearly enjoying pushing your buttons, but then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it, sighed, and shook his head. “Well, I should probably let you get back to your kingdom of quiet,” he said, stretching.

You didn’t bother to say goodbye, just kept sorting the groceries. Jay grinned like he knew he’d won some invisible game and turned toward the door. “See you around.”

You heard the front door close behind him, and the sudden silence was almost deafening. The sound of footsteps signaled Amy’s return. “Jay’s gone,” she said, placing a letter on the counter. “I guess I’m gone too. But more gone than he is.”

Your brows furrowed. “Whatever does that mean?”

Amy lifted the paper. “They’re summoning me back. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to say goodbye to my little break and go back to working my ass off for a new Chanel purse.”

You chuckled. “You’re your own boss, Amy.”

“Pep talk? Nice. I can always trust you to lift me up when I’m down.”

“No, I mean literally,” you clarified, laughing. “You literally own your company.”

Amy sighed and sank into a chair. “I know, right? Who knew being a boss could be so demanding, too?”

You smiled, placing the last jar of jam in the cabinet. “You always did say you wanted to build an empire.”

“I was picturing more champagne and yachts. Less spreadsheets and back-to-back Zoom calls.” She pouted. “But alas, I must answer the call of capitalism.”

You leaned against the counter, arms folded. “When are you leaving?”

“Couple more days. Figured I’d squeeze in a few more sunsets before I go back to breathing recycled air in my office.”

“That gives us time for at least one more girls’ night.”

Amy grinned. “You, me, Lea, a bottle of wine, and us talking about Emma’s drop dead gorgeous dads?”

“Possible dads.”

She raised her hands in surrender. “Right, possible dads. But seriously… you okay with me leaving?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug. “I’ll survive.”

Amy narrowed her eyes. “You always say that when you’re suppressing deep emotional turmoil.”

“Then you must be thrilled I’m so consistent.”

Amy smirked, then stood to stretch. “I wish I could move here too.”

You shook your head. “Yeah, like you’ll survive the quiet.”

She grimaced, standing up at once and heading for the stairs. You watched her climb upstairs with her heels click-clacking on the marble floor, smiling as she disappeared from view.

iv: The Bolter

You were halfway up the ladder, squinting against the late afternoon sun as you twisted the new bulb into the patio fixture. The scent of oranges permeated the warm air, sweet and delightful, and cicadas buzzed in the distance.

“Hey—careful,” came a voice behind you, gentle but urgent.

You turned slightly and found Sunghoon standing near the base of the ladder, brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be up there,” he said. “What if you fall?”

You huffed a small laugh, focusing back on the bulb. “Then I’ll fall. And hopefully someone will find me before the birds do.”

He stepped closer, placing one hand on the side of the ladder without climbing. “Seriously. Get down. Let me do it.”

“It’s fine, I’m almost—” You gave the bulb a final twist and straightened. “Done.”

He exhaled through his nose like he didn’t quite believe you, but wasn’t going to argue. His hand stayed lightly on the ladder until you made it to the ground. You felt it—the worry in his eyes—before you even looked at him.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

He nodded, glancing up at the light fixture. “You always do these things by yourself?”

You shrugged. “Mostly. The handyman comes by when something major breaks.”

“Don’t you have someone who could help with this kind of thing?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “A partner, or… someone?”

You scoffed. “Why? Because women shouldn’t be doing things like these?”

“That’s not what I said,” he said quickly. “I just meant you should be more careful and leave these tasks to other people.”

“Did you come here to boss me around?” you smirked, walking toward the shed with your toolbox. “Old habits die hard, huh?”

“I’m not bossing you around. I never did that,” he replied, following behind you. “You just don’t like being told what to do.”

“You know me so well,” you scoffed, digging through the shed for shears. “Good for you.”

You turned to him and handed him the shears with a crooked smile. “Here. Since you think I shouldn't be doing everything myself, you can help with the oranges.”

He took the shears without protest, the metal glinting faintly in the late afternoon light. You started toward the nearest tree, brushing your fingers against the low-hanging branches as you walked. The fruit was ripe, some already beginning to speckle with sunspots.

Sunghoon trailed behind, quiet except for the occasional snip of the shears. You didn’t offer instructions—he knew what to do. You remembered that much.

For a while, the only sounds were the rustle of leaves, the snap of stems, and the distant hum of insects. You filled a basket between you in silence, neither of you in a hurry. 

“These trees are doing well,” he said eventually, pausing beside you to drop a few oranges into the bin. “I didn’t think they’d survive the dry season.”

You crouched down to pick one that had fallen between two roots. “They almost didn’t. I had to replant a few.” You dusted off the dirt and added it to the pile. “They’re tougher than they look.”

He glanced at you, and you knew it wasn’t about the oranges. But you didn’t acknowledge it. Sunghoon shifted his weight, rubbing his palm over his neck like he always did when he was thinking too hard. “It’s peaceful here.”

“It was,” you said dryly, then added, “Still is. Mostly.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it faded quickly. He nodded and turned back to the tree, reaching for another cluster of oranges. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. But I figured, when I did… you’d look like this.”

You arched a brow. “Like what?”

He hesitated. “Like… settled. Happy.”

You didn’t respond right away, just adjusted the strap of the basket on your shoulder. “Yeah, life doesn’t just stop for anyone. It keeps going. But you know that already.”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. Instead, he stepped forward, brushing past you to reach a particularly high branch. His arm stretched over your head, close enough for you to feel the warmth of him, but you didn’t move. He clipped the stem and handed the orange to you quietly.

You took it without meeting his eyes. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he murmured. You placed the orange in the basket, then stood there for a few moments, letting the quiet stretch between you. You didn’t want to open your mouth and speak the words you were dying to say. But you needed to know.

You exhaled softly. “Are you going to tell me what you’re really doing here?”

He looked at you, lips pressed thinly together like he didn’t want to speak. You met his gaze. “Why are you here, Hoon? Why now?”

“No reason,” he said, though his voice was softer now. “I just wanted to see the island again. You know what it meant to me.”

You sighed. “I know, that’s why I’m asking you why. You came all the way out here, just to reminisce?”

He didn’t answer right away. You could see it—the hesitation behind his silence. Maybe he was debating what to say, or maybe he didn’t even know the answer himself.

“I don’t know,” he said eventually. “Still figuring that out,” he said quietly.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Then figure it out somewhere else. I want nothing to do with you.”

You placed the basket of oranges down and turned to walk away. But then you paused, sighing to yourself. “Sunghoon,” you said, glancing back. He straightened, eyes hopeful.

“Don’t do that thing where you pretend we’re fine.”

His face fell, just slightly. “Okay,” he said softly. “Then I’ll do the thing where I hope we will be.”

You didn’t say anything else. Just walked away, the sun edging down the horizon, and the memories of your past heartbreak pressing hard against your chest.

v: “The Child”

In a small, dimly lit pub in the heart of the village, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon had found a corner table near the back, enjoying the local cuisine and some drinks. It was by Jay’s recommendation, seconded by Sunghoon, who agreed that this place had the best food.

“So you’re all here by coincidence?” the pub owner asked, appearing at their table with a towel slung over her shoulder. She was in her fifties, with sharp eyes and a playful lilt to her voice.

Sunghoon smiled faintly. “Guess so.”

“I remember you,” she said, pointing at him. “You were here six years ago, weren’t you? Stayed a few weeks. Always ordered the sardines and left a good tip.”

Sunghoon smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like me.”

She turned to Jay. “I saw you here before, too, with the fancy yacht.” To Jake, she said, “You all know each other?”

Jake offered a polite smile. “We didn’t know each other until this week. We all thought she—uh, someone—had asked us to come.”

“Misunderstanding,” Sunghoon added flatly.

The woman let out a long, amused hmm. “Three strangers, all drawn back to the same place, for the same woman? That’s either bad luck or fate.”

Jay chuckled. “Feels a bit like both.”

The pub owner grinned. “Well, I’ve known her since she moved here. Lovely girl. Strong as hell. We all helped her when she had little Emma—Lord, that was a night.” She laughed to herself, then added fondly, “She did good, you know. Raising her child like that.”

That was when she tilted her head. “So…” she said slowly, eyes darting between the three of them, “which one of you is the dad?”

Silence fell all of a suddden. Sunghoon blinked. Jake choked on his beer. Jay just stared at her, lips parting but nothing coming out.

She laughed, waving a hand. “Oh, don’t all look so spooked. Just thought it was funny—all of you turning up like that. I figured one of you must’ve come back for your kid.”

Jake leaned forward. “Sorry—our kid? Are you saying one of us could be Emma’s dad?”

She blinked, then grinned. “So you don’t know?” She looked genuinely entertained now. “You did all sleep with her, yeah?”

The three of them exchanged stunned glances, which only made her laugh harder. “That’s the part I’m having trouble wrapping my head around. Young people really are something,” she said, already turning away. “Just don’t cause trouble for our girl while you’re here, alright?”

The three of them stepped out into the cooling evening air, the sea breeze curling through the narrow streets. They walked in silence at first, shoes scuffing against cobblestones, the buzz of the pub still echoing faintly behind them.

“She’s got your laugh, Jay,” Jake said suddenly. Jay and Sunghoon both turned to look at him.

“I mean—” Jake shrugged, a little sheepish now. “Emma. The kid.”

Jay lifted a brow. “You’ve barely spoken to her.”

“I know,” Jake said, hands jammed into his pockets. “But I heard her laugh.”

“You don’t think she’s yours?” Sunghoon asked Jake.

Jake shrugged. “I feel like she’s mine, but I also think she’s not. I mean, me and her mom only met briefly and you two seemed to have a longer history with her.”

Jay didn’t answer. He was looking up now, watching the clouds across a lilac sky. “A daughter. My own daughter. How odd.”

Jake gave him a sidelong glance. “You think she might be yours?”

Jay smirked faintly. “The timeline fits. And we did have a wild time together.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “None of that would have happened if I never left the island.”

Jay stopped walking and watched Sunghoon carefully. “So it was you?”

Sunghoon stopped too, glancing over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

Jay narrowed his eyes, wagging his index finger. “The guy who left her in that state of despair six years ago.”

Sunghoon didn’t speak, but the way his jaw clenched and looked away made Jay snigger. “Knew it. Guess I owe you for that. If you hadn’t messed up, I wouldn’t have had my chance.”

They exchanged glances, Jay with a smug smirk on his lips and Sunghoon with darkened eyes, neither of them saying anything. Just a step behind, Jake was watching cautiously. 

“Are you gonna punch each other in the face? Please don’t punch each other in the face,” he rambled. “I’m a pacifist, but physically pacifying two grown men fighting is not my best skill.”

Sunghoon glanced at him and smiled. “No. No one’s punching anyone.”

Jay nodded in agreement, and Jake visibly relaxed. Ahead, near the edge of the orange orchard, he spotted a small figure darting between the trees—Emma, the child they had all heard so much about.

“Emma!” he exclaimed, pointing at the orchard.

They all followed his finger, watching as Emma ran barefoot over the grass with two other kids, her hair bouncing, eyes bright with mischief. They all noticed how she tilted her head just like you did when you were thinking hard, and caught themselves smiling at the resemblance.

Sunghoon exhaled slowly. “We need to talk to her mom.”

Jake scratched the back of his neck. “We should, but she clearly doesn’t want us here.”

Jay nodded slowly, his gaze still on the orchard. “Makes sense now, doesn’t it? Why she was so cold. She’s been raising a kid this whole time and we show up out of nowhere?”

A long silence stretched between them, heavy with everything that needed not be spoken. 

“Hi there,” came a voice behind them. They all turned. Amy stood there, smiling mischievously.

“Amy!” Jay exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “Didn’t see you there.”

Amy crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Three grown men, spying on a little girl. I wonder what’s going on here?” she chimed, tilting her head playfully.

vi: “My Child?!”

It didn’t take much to convince Amy. Just one sincere talk beneath the stars, and Amy’s usual knack for stepping into matters she absolutely shouldn’t. 

Okay, there was also a bribe of some sort from Jay too.

By morning, she and the three men had come to some sort of unspoken agreement, though you’d never hear the details from her. She wouldn’t tell you yet, but Amy agreed to gave the men time to get to know Emma. Little windows of time, a few stolen moments. A chance to see Emma from a distance without disrupting her world. 

The girl remained blissfully unaware, chattering to her friends, running through trees, and sitting cross-legged on classroom floors while three very confused, very quiet men watched her and quietly lost their minds.

Jay had his time with her first. He was sitting outside the café in the square, dark sunglasses over his eyes, arms crossed as if he wasn’t creepily surveilling a six-year-old. Emma sat three tables away with a coloring book open in front of her and a glass of peach juice beside it—served, oddly, in a champagne flute.

“She refuses to drink from plastic,” Amy muttered, sipping her espresso beside him. “Told me once it was ‘unsightly.’ She’s six.”

Jay let out a faint snort. Emma was focused, brows pinched slightly, tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she colored inside the lines. Not scribbles—clean, even strokes. Her sundress was bright. Her sandals were spotless. And when a tourist’s kid squealed nearby, Emma looked up with a flick of her lashes that Jay knew all too well.

“She might be mine,” he murmured, eyes focused on the kid. “What a terrifying thought.”

“Terrifying that she’s yours?” Amy asked dryly.

Jay nodded. “Yeah. I mean, can you imagine? Me? With a kid?”

Amy snorted. “You’d put her in designer overalls.”

Jay puffed his chest proudly. “She deserves nothing less.”

Sunghoon saw her later that afternoon, under the fig tree by the orchard. Emma was crouched in the dirt, arranging pebbles into a messy circle around something she’d scratched into the soil with a stick. A butterfly landed nearby. She didn’t move—just watched it in silence, eyes wide with wonder.

A woman came over, offering some pastry to Emma who immediately stood up to look at the food. When she scrunched up her nose at it, Sunghoon smiled to himself, recognizing that stubborn streak.

Amy stood beside him, arms crossed loosely. “She’s very picky. She hates raisins,” she offered. “Picks them out of everything. Cookies. Bread. Throws them at birds, sometimes.”

Sunghoon blinked. “Birds?”

“It’s her favorite animal. Always the highlight of her drawings.”

He didn’t answer. Just kept his eyes on Emma as she adjusted one final stone, then stood back to admire her handiwork. A small, crooked flower drawn in dirt, circled with mismatched pebbles. She clapped once, proud of herself.

Sunghoon smiled faintly. “She’s my daughter,” he said, soft enough that even Amy might not have caught it. “I know it.”

Jake saw her at the school library. Emma was curled on a beanbag in the corner, a book nearly as big as her lap open across her knees. Occasionally, she’d whisper something to herself, then giggle like she’d cracked a private joke. Her glasses kept slipping down her nose, and every few minutes she’d push them up again with an absent-minded jab of her finger.

“She likes logic puzzles,” Amy whispered from the next shelf. “Reads ahead in class.”

Jake watched in fascination as Emma turned a page and promptly bonked herself in the forehead with the stiff cardboard. She made a dramatic little “oof” sound, then looked around—saw no one had noticed—and laughed at herself.

“She’s smart,” Jake murmured, smiling despite himself. “And clumsy.”

Amy looked at him knowingly. “Like someone you know?”

Emma had already gone back to reading, entirely absorbed, glasses slipping again. He watched her, chest tugging strangely.

“I feel like she’s mine,” he said finally. “I mean, she’s smart, clumsy. Her demeanor reminds me of myself.”

None of them spoke it aloud to each other. But in their separate corners of the island, in different lights and at different times, they all began to wonder the same thing.

What if she really was my child?

vii: Exes and Whys

The first time you saw Emma hanging out with one of his potential fathers, you went batshit. You almost lashed out on Sunghoon—who was with her at the time, but Lea was able to stop you just in time before you could make a scene with your daughter present. Lea and Amy had to take the brunt of your anger.

Amy explained that all three of them had heard from someone that one of them could be Emma’s dad. It took some serious convincing—one which involved sitting your down while Lea and Amy held you on either arms to calm you down—before you eventually agreed that they deserved to at least get to know Emma.

That weekend, you watched Jay and Emma spend time together. They were crouched side-by-side at the back of the bookstore. You sat at the café next door, pretending to read while watching them through the open window. You didn’t like this idea at all, but you wanted to give it a chance.

Emma, legs swinging from the edge of a stepstool, flipped through a picture book while Jay knelt beside her, pointing at words and asking, “What do you think happens next?”

“She gets turned into a snail,” Emma replied seriously, like it was obvious.

Jay chuckled. “Solid twist.”

You lingered to watch them longer than you meant to. When Emma eventually noticed you, she ran up to join you with Jay in tow.  He just smiled at you and said, “We found the weirdest book. It’s kind of amazing.”

You only offered a clipped nod before turning to Emma as she showed you the pictures in the book. Jake’s turn came with the weekly beach clean-up. He somehow ended up carrying Emma in one arm and a leaking bucket of seashells and rocks in the other, grinning despite the mess.

“I’m starting a rock museum,” Emma explained when she spotted you. “Uncle Jake’s the janitor.”

Jake wiped his sandy hands on his jeans. “I asked to be head of security, but apparently I wasn’t intimidating enough.”

You didn’t stay long, just long enough to see him trip over a bucket and nearly fall into the tide. Emma cackled, and you couldn’t help the reluctant smile that pulled at your lips. She was having fun. That’s all that mattered.

And then there was the art fair too. You’d gone mostly for the free churros, but Emma got sucked into the craft tent, and of course Sunghoon was there—already drawing with a group of overly ambitious kids.

When Emma wandered over to him, she handed him a stick of chalk and said, “Can you draw a castle?”

So he did. A sweeping, moss-covered thing, all turrets and arches, delicately shaded like it was made to be hung in museums. Emma crouched beside him, adding a purple dragon with uneven wings. You stood across the square, your heart crawling up into your throat. And when they stepped back to admire their work—her tiny hand brushing his—you had to look away.

Through it all, you kept your distance. Smiled when Emma came home with funny stories. Listened when she said she hoped she’d see “the bookstore guy” or “the rock guy” or “the drawing guy” again. And quietly braced yourself for the moment it would all become real. Because deep down, you knew it couldn’t go on like this forever.

“Uncle Jake’s silly. I like him.”

Your heart twisted a little. “You do?”

“Uh-huh. And I like Uncle Jay too. He said he’s got a big boat.”

You chuckled, running your hands gently through her hair. “Yeah, he does.”

“Your friends are not mean, Mom. They’re okay,” she added, beaming. “And did you know Uncle Hoonie is an architect?”

“I did.”

“He said architects draw houses and buildings. It’s cool.”

You smiled. “Do you wanna be an architect?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I want to be a marine biologist.”

“Oh?” you asked, propping yourself on your elbow. “What does a marine biologist do?”

She launched into a surprisingly detailed explanation about dolphins, seaweed, and how sharks weren’t actually evil. You listened, nodding along, trying not to think about how easy this all seemed for her. And how hard it still was for you.

The next morning, you told your friends about your conversation with Emma. It was late afternoon when the three of you gathered on the patio, just far enough from the orchard that your voices wouldn’t carry. You had lemonade in your glass, sunglasses on your head, and your jaw clenched just slightly as you watched Emma zip between the trees, her laugh echoing on the breeze.

Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon trailed after her like oversized puppies. Jake was trying to toss fallen oranges into a basket while Emma called out scores like a basketball referee. Sunghoon was crouched beside her, gently brushing dirt off her knees with a folded napkin. And Jay, of course, was doing the most Jay thing imaginable—standing a few feet away, watching it all quietly, sipping from a water bottle like he was above the chaos but secretly just shy around Emma.

“It’s Lover Boy,” Amy said, plucking a grape off the plate in front of her.

Lea blinked. “You said your vote is on Playboy.”

“That was when I hadn’t met Emma in the flesh yet,” Amy popped the grape in her mouth. “Now that she’s grown, and I’ve met Lover Boy, I’m pretty sure it’s him. She’s got her hatred for raisins to back it up, too.”

Lea snorted. “Nah. It’s Shy Boy. Emma’s being a massive klutz can only be explained by genetics.”

“Oh, so that’s hereditary now?” Amy asked, chuckling.

“It could be, who knows?” said Lea, shrugging. “I will say, though. She’s got Playboy’s eyes.”

You didn’t say anything. Just sipped your lemonade, eyes tracking Emma as she darted behind a tree, making all three men spin around to look for her.

“She’s got pieces of all of them,” Lea said after a moment. “Honestly, I can’t tell. She’s... Emma. You know?”

Amy nodded. “She takes after her mother a lot. Anyone would have a hard time guessing which one is her dad.”

There was a pause while you all watched Jake lift Emma onto his shoulders so she could try to reach a branch. She shrieked with laughter when he spun in a slow circle and nearly tripped over his own feet. Sunghoon instinctively reached out to steady them both, and Jay looked up from where he was sitting, brows furrowed in concern. The three men exchanged glances—then they all laughed.

“At least the three of them get along,” Lea commented. “Men are more civil than I thought.”

You hummed but said nothing, eyes lingering on Emma as she stuck out her tongue and made a silly face. She was glowing. She had no idea that her entire life might be shifting beneath her feet.

Amy nudged your elbow. “You okay?”

Before you could respond, you noticed Jay approaching, and quiet fell over your small circle. He slowed when he reached the edge of the patio, giving a polite nod to the others before looking at you.

“Hi,” he said, hands in his pockets.

“Oh wow, would you look at the time,” Lea said suddenly, standing up. “I need to check on the muffins!”

“Right. Muffins in the oven. Burning. Very urgent,” Amy said, scrambling up after her.

Jay smirked as he watched your friends scramble away on purpose. “I love your friends. They’re very tactful.”

You scoffed. “And very nosy too.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Jay agreed, sitting on the chair Lea had just vacated. “So, Shy Boy, Lover Boy, and Playboy.” Your brows furrowed, but you didn’t say anything.

“Nice nicknames. Who came up with it?” he grinned, leaning back on the chair and crossing his legs. “Let me guess, Lea?”

You couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah. But where did you even hear that? Have you been eavesdropping this whole time?”

“No, but I’ve heard it a few times in passing. I mean, obviously I’m Playboy,” he said, pointing to himself. “Jake’s definitely Shy Boy. And that makes Sunghoon your Lover Boy.”

He turned to you, grinning mischievously. “He was the guy who broke your heart, right? I ought to thank him. That summer changed my life.”

You rolled your eyes. “Are you here to gossip, Playboy?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head and leaning in. “I’m here to ask why you never told me she might be mine.”

Your mind stopped functioning for a second, completely caught off guard by the question and the way he dropped it so casually. You opened your mouth to speak, but didn’t. You just took a deep breath and looked away.

Of course. This conversation was doomed to come.

viii: Thank You, Next

You’d never seen her this happy. Emma had always been bright, quick to laugh, quick to love, but this was different. This was lit-from-within, cheeks-pink-from-running, never-stopping-to-breathe kind of joy. You’d opted to let the three of them check into the BNB so they could spend more time with her.

Emma tore through the orchard like it had been made for her. Hair in a frizzy ponytail, arms flapping like wings, cheeks flushed from the heat. And trailing behind her like loyal satellites were the three men she’d only just met.

Jake was her obvious favorite at first. He’d found an old chalkboard and some planks and convinced her they could build a lemonade stand, even though he had no real plan and kept hammering nails crookedly.

“You’re doing it all wrong,” she scolded, tapping the plank he’d just attached.

“I’m not!” Jake said, offended. “I saw someone do it this way and it worked out fine.”

Sunghoon, naturally, had to take over. Inside the house, you pulled the laundry off the line and folded it stiffly. You paused when you heard her laugh again—clear as glass—and glanced out the kitchen window.

Jay was under the fig tree with her now, holding a clipboard and pencil. He was showing her how to draw a map of the orchard. She leaned close to study his handwriting, her forehead creasing a little in concentration. He watched her like he didn’t want to blink.

When you stepped out onto the porch with a basket of folded sheets, Sunghoon was crouched near the steps, gently wiping dirt from Emma’s scraped knee with a napkin. She sniffled but didn’t cry. He smiled at her, whispering something you couldn’t hear, and she nodded solemnly before getting up and dashing off to find the others.

Sunghoon stood slowly and noticed you. “You’ve got a few loose planks back there,” he said quietly, pointing to a spot behind the house. “I could fix them. It wouldn’t take long.”

You didn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve lived with them this long.”

“I know. But I’m here now.” That made you look at him. His face hadn’t changed—still calm, still thoughtful—but there was meaning behind those words. Like an apology, or a promise, or both.

“I’m not gonna play house with you, Sunghoon.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” he said calmly. “I just… want to help.”

“Well, don’t,” you replied, lips pressing into a thin line. He nodded once and stepped back.

That evening, the lemonade stand had collapsed, the map was unfinished, and Emma had declared herself “Queen of Orange Land.” She demanded a crown. Sunghoon made one out of wildflowers. Jake gave her a sticker badge. Jay carried her on his shoulders as she waved at no one.

From the patio, you watched it all. Arms crossed, with an unreadable expression. You’d spent six years guarding your peace. Six years building a world that revolved around you and your daughter, just you two, always. And now these men had arrived, pulling at old threads. Disturbing your peace.

Jake approached you later, holding out a glass of lemonade like a peace offering. “Hi.”

You took the glass without looking at him. “Thanks.”

“She’s a lot like you,” Jake said. “Bold, smart, very pretty. She has big dreams, too. Like you.”

You didn’t say anything, just quietly sipped on your lemonade. Jake continued. “Remember in Paris? You said you wanted to run your own hotel and—”

“I don’t remember,” you cut in.

His smile dropped for just a second. “Right. Well… Back then, I said I’m gonna stay in your hotel as a guest. And—”

“Stop it, Jake,” you replied without missing a beat. “There is a chance that you might be Emma’s dad, and if you were, you could be a dad to her if you want. But that’s between you and her. That relationship doesn’t extend to me.”

You rose to your feet and left before he could say anything. You heard him call out to you, but you didn’t look back.

Later that night, long after Emma had passed out in bed, you ran into Jay in the hallway. He was barefoot, hair damp from a shower, heading toward the kitchen.

He noticed you first. “Still mad at me?”

You walked past him without stopping. “No.”

Jay turned, surprised. “Really?”

“That would require emotion.”

He didn’t smile. “Got it.”

As you walked away, you remembered how he asked you a few days ago why you didn’t tell him about Emma. You remembered being unable to say anything in response. Jay said it was fine and that he would wait until you were ready to tell him.

“But as you know, I’m a busy man and I’m not very patient,” he’d said at the time, basically giving you a deadline, and you didn’t appreciate that at all.

ix: “I Don't Spend Time Wondering About the Past”

The sun had set. Emma had fallen asleep after a tantrum over popsicle colors—red was the only acceptable flavor, apparently—and for the first time all day, the house was quiet. You were in the kitchen twisting at a jam jar with far too much effort, when Jake walked in.

“Need help?” he asked, smiling.

You jumped a little. “I got it,” you said, grunting once before giving up. “Okay, no, I don’t. I think the lid’s glued shut.”

He took the jar, twisted once, and popped it open. You stared at him like he’d just performed a magic trick. “I loosened it,” you said defensively.

He handed it back with a smile. “Yes, you did. Great job.” 

The compliment caught you off guard, and you looked down at the jar in your hands, like you had suddenly forgotten why you wanted jam in the first place. Jake noticed your expression.

“Sorry. It just came out,” he said after a second. “My fiancee says she doesn’t know if I mean them sometimes, or if I’m just complimenting her out of habit.”

You glanced at him. “Fiancée? You’re engaged?”

Jake nodded, almost bashfully. “Since December. She’s great. Very not-me, which is probably why it works.”

“Congratulations,” you said, feeling a genuine warmth in your heart.

He looked at you, serious now. “I didn’t come to bother you or anything. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.” You flattened your lips together and shrugged.

“I was just really surprised to get that letter,” he added, chuckling softly. “And I came because it sounded urgent, and I wanted to help with whatever it was. You didn’t give me details, just that you wanted me to come as soon as I can.”

“I know,” you replied, shaking your head at yourself. “That was kind of the point. And I did need your help at the time, but things got better.”

“What did happen?” he asked, leaning on the counter. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

You sighed and looked at him, really looked at him. Jake had been a sweetheart when you first met. He was a clumsy, nervous wreck, but he was endearing. You had your best memories of Paris with him, but he probably had the worst memory of you leaving him with nothing but a note.  He didn’t deserve the hostility he got from you the first time you saw him again after six long years.

“Emma was sick, really sick,” you confessed. “I didn’t know what to do. I panicked. And for the first time, I thought… maybe she needs her dad.”

You looked away. “But like I said, things got better. So I didn’t have to send those letters after all.”

Jake hummed, nodding as he took in the information. “I followed you here, you know. Six years ago.” He said after a few seconds. “But Corsica is a big island and I didn’t know where to look, so, I gave up and went back home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I wasn’t upset about it,” he chuckled, then paused to think. “Well, I was, a little bit. And it took a while to recover from the bruised ego I got that day.”

He glanced over. “Can I ask you something?” You nodded.

“Did you hate it? That night?” Jake let out a shaky laugh. “I just—I’ve thought about it a lot. About how I must’ve said the wrong thing or done something wrong. And I’ve always wondered if you left because of that.”

“No,” you said quickly. “No, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t hate it. I just…”

You took a breath, then admitted quietly, “You scared me. When you said you were in love with me.”

“Huh…” He nodded, seemingly coming to a realization. “I get it. Looking back now, it was kind of a stupid thing to say.”

You snorted. “Yeah. It was.”

“But that’s all in the past,” he declared, exhaling. “And I didn’t come here for a second shot at this, or anything. I just really thought you needed help, and our time might be short, but to me, you’re an old friend. I like helping old friends.”

You smiled at that, genuinely moved. Then he added, “And of course, after finding out about Emma, I had to stay. I needed to stay. The idea that I could be a father is just… I don’t know. Exciting and scary at the same time.”

You didn’t reply right away. Just watched him, this man who used to be a charming, blabbering mess, now standing in your kitchen talking about being a father. “I think you’ll be a good one,” you said at last.

Jake smiled, softer than before. “I hope so.”

“Not just with Emma,” you added, and you meant it. “You’ll be a wonderful dad to your kids, Jake.”

“Thank you,” he said, bashfully scratching the back of his neck. His ears had turned a little pink. “I’d love me a daughter. I’d spoil her rotten.”

You sighed. “If Emma turns out to be yours, please don’t spoil her too much. She’s already spoiled enough as it is. I can’t even.”

Jake snorted. “She’s not that bad.”

You gave him a look. “She threw a fit over popsicle colors. Colors, Jake.”

He laughed, loud and boyish. “Right. She did.”

You smiled despite yourself. Just for a second, it felt like old times again—comfortable, uncomplicated, and a little silly. But only for a second.

The night was still and quiet. Cool air clung to your skin as you stepped onto the porch, barefoot, holding a half-empty mug of tea. You’d part ways with Jake after a hearty chat, and Jay was nowhere to be found ever since Emma fell asleep. So, you weren’t expecting to see anyone else.

But there he was, crouched at the edge of the yard, a flashlight balanced between his knees and a screwdriver in his hand, fussing over the fence. You blinked. “I told you to leave it.”

Sunghoon looked up, startled. “Sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”

You took a slow sip. “Didn’t realize you packed a toolbox.”

He glanced down at the pitiful setup: a multitool, a roll of twine, and what looked suspiciously like a spoon. “Improvising.”

You scoffed under your breath and stepped down from the porch, walking over to the shed nearby. “The toolbox is here.”

He followed you quietly to the shed. You flicked on the light, crouched, and pulled out the battered red toolbox from under a shelf. “Here,” you said, setting it down at his feet.

“Thanks,” he murmured, kneeling beside it. 

He opened the lid, hesitant, like it felt wrong to accept even this small gesture from you. You turned on your heel to leave, but he spoke before you could take a step.

“You don’t have to stay,” he said. “But I wouldn’t mind the company.”

You considered him for a second, then walked out without a word. He took that as a no. Ten minutes later, you were back with your mug refilled, your sleeves pushed up, and a blanket tossed over one shoulder.

“Is it that hard? Or are you just slow?” you asked flatly.

He didn’t smile, but you saw his lips twitch. “Just trying not to wake everyone.”

You set your mug down on the steps and sat, knees pulled up. You didn’t know why you came back. Maybe it was the quiet, or the way his voice had sounded—not desperate, just inviting.  And familiar.

You watched him work. He was careful with his hands, looping the twine where a nail was missing, reinforcing the base with wood from a broken crate you’d nearly thrown out. He moved quietly, methodically, and with expertise like the handyman that you remembered him to be.

“You still like fixing things that don’t concern you?” you asked before you could stop it.

He glanced at you, surprised. “Only the ones I have a shot at fixing.”

You didn’t reply. But the words stayed with you, nestled somewhere in your chest like a jab you were sure he didn’t mean to throw. “You always did think everything is a fixer-upper,” you mumbled bitterly, looking away and taking a sip.

The night stretched on. A few crickets chirped in the distance. Sunghoon finished tying off the last bit of twine, wiped his hands on his jeans, then came to sit beside you on the steps. Not too close.

“How have you been?” he asked, voice low. “All these years.”

You took a sip of your tea. “Fine.”

He didn’t press. That was how he always was—patient, never pushing. And maybe that was part of the problem. Back then, he’d waited too long to be honest. By the time he said something you needed to hear, it had already been too late.

Now here he was again, waiting. Sitting beside you like no time had passed. You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Emma likes having you around.”

A small smile crossed his lips. “She’s incredible. Bright. Funny. Stubborn as hell. Bet she gets that from you.”

You scoffed, though you were unable to hide your smile.

“She also has a big heart,” he added, looking at you. “And big dreams, like you.”

You looked away. The stars were dull tonight, almost invisible.

“I didn’t think I’d be back here,” he said after a while. “But I’m glad I am.”

You said nothing. He continued. “I’ve missed this... Being around you.”

You looked at him then. At the soft way his features caught the porch light, at the steadiness in his gaze, even when he wasn’t meeting yours. At the man he’d become, or maybe always was, and you just hadn’t seen it through the pain of what didn’t work out.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Sunghoon,” you said quietly.

“I don’t want anything,” he replied. “I just want to be here… if you’ll let me.”

You didn’t respond. Not yes, not no. Just reached for your mug again, letting the warmth seep into your hands, into your chest. It was easier not to go there—not with him, not with anyone. Those memories were too bright and too warm. Too dangerous.

After a while, Sunghoon said, “Sometimes I wonder if I could’ve done anything different. Stayed a little longer. Said something sooner.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t look at him. “I don’t spend time wondering about the past,” you said before rising to your feet and walking away.

But you did spend time wondering about the past. More often than you cared to admit.

x: “Boyfriend Olympics”

After a restless night and too much thinking, the beach felt like the only place wide enough to hold all the noise in your head. So you walked there early the next morning. The tide was low, and the sand was damp beneath your feet. The breeze smelled like salt and oranges. It was early enough that the sun was still halfway behind the hills, casting a soft glow across the water. You stopped near the shore and closed your eyes for a moment, just breathing it in.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite girl on this island.”

You turned, unsurprised to find Jay strolling your way—barefooted, linen shirt unbuttoned all the way down, hair a tousled mess like he’d just rolled out of bed and decided to head to the beach first.

“Okay. Second favorite,” he corrected himself. “Emma’s first. Obviously.”

You gave him a look. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“What could be better than running into you on this fine morning?” he asked back, joining you by the water.

You sighed through your nose and kept walking, letting the waves graze your ankles. Jay fell into step beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I saw you sneak out this morning,” he said. “Fishy.”

“I wasn’t sneaking out. It’s my house, my home. I do whatever I want.”

“Okay, someone woke up grumpy,” he teased. “What happened? Lover’s quarrel with Shy Boy or Lover Boy?”

You turned to give him a deadpan expression. Jay grinned. “What? It couldn’t be me. I’m perfect. I’d never quarrel with you.”

You snorted. “You’re many things, Jay. Perfect is not one of them.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He stretched lazily, arms overhead. “So what are we doing today?”

“We?” you echoed, arching a brow.

“Yes, we. Don’t be selfish. Count me in.”

You shook your head, walking faster, if only to end the conversation. “I came here to be alone.”

“And look how well that turned out,” he said easily, falling into step beside you. “Come on. You haven’t eaten, have you?”

Truthfully, you hadn’t. But your stomach wasn’t the one making noise—it was your mind. Still echoing with words left unsaid on the porch. Jay was watching you like he already knew that.

“Why?” you asked finally.

“Because I’m starving,” he said, like it was obvious. “And I know this place just around the island. Best pastries I’ve ever had.”

You gave him a look. He gave one right back. “And you could use a distraction. Didn’t they say carbs cure everything? Especially for grumpy women?”

You scoffed under your breath. “No, thanks.”

You turned to continue walking, but a loud, unmistakable grumble made you stop. It was coming from your belly, making you place your hand instinctively over it. Behind you, Jay chuckled in satisfaction.

“See? You need to eat. Come on.” He grabbed your hand with a smile, and you let him drag you back to his boat just by the docks. You followed reluctantly, but not unhappily.

Guess this was better than returning to the house. To the quiet rooms and the questions you weren’t ready to ask yourself yet.

The boat was different from what you remembered from summers past, but the vibe was nearly identical—sleek, spotless, with that casual arrogance that seemed woven into the very leather of the seats. A floating extension of Jay himself.

“What happened to the other one?” you asked as he helped you aboard.

“Sold it,” he replied casually. “It was getting boring, so I had to get a new one.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his unchanging attitude. “Of course you did.”

He laughed, unfazed, and nodded at the captain onboard. They exchanged a few quick words while you looked around, then the engine rumbled to life, and the boat pulled smoothly from the dock. You leaned against the railing, letting the breeze blow through your hair.

It was strange, how easy it was to fall into old rhythms with Jay. Like no time had passed at all. But time had passed. Years of it. And not all of them kind.

The ride was short, maybe twenty minutes around the island, but smooth and indulgent—like most things in Jay’s life. He talked the whole time, mostly nonsense, from complaining about the awful airline food he endured on the way here to ranking the best gelato spots in Corsica. He claimed to be an expert, though you were sure he was mixing up two different towns. You didn’t mind. It was welcome noise, and it kept your mind from drifting too far back into the night before.

They docked at a small port just off the main road, where a sleepy little restaurant with blue-striped umbrellas waited, already smelling of butter and espresso. You chose the table closest to the water. Jay insisted on pulling your chair out with exaggerated courtesy. You rolled your eyes but sat anyway, draping your blanket loosely over your lap. A waitress brought out a basket of warm bread and two menus.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having,” Jay said as the waitress approached, his tone casual but his eyes still on you.

You didn’t meet his gaze. “You don’t even know what I want.”

“I know you have good taste. I trust you.”

You glanced up at him then, just briefly. Jay always said things like that. Like none of it ever cost him anything. “You picked this place,” you said, eyes back on the menu. “Shouldn’t you be the one with recommendations?”

He only shrugged, smiling. “Doesn’t matter. I trust you.”

You rolled your eyes again, but the corners of your mouth twitched. After placing your orders, you took a moment to look around. The restaurant had brick walls and wooden beams overhead, mismatched chairs and wobbly tables, potted plants hanging on the eaves. It had that classic Corsican charm—weathered, warm, and beautiful.

You bit back a smile and looked out at the sea. “This place is nice.”

“It’s better with company,” Jay said, leaning back with his arms stretched along the seat, completely at ease.

You shot him a look. “Well, obviously you’re always surrounded by company.”

“Not your company,” he said smoothly.

You gave a noncommittal hum, breaking off a piece of bread. “Flirting before breakfast. Bold of you.”

“Flirting? Who’s flirting?” he asked, mock offended. “I’m just appreciating the view.”

You gave him a flat stare. Jay grinned. “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re easy on the eyes. You should apologize for that.”

You snorted. “You haven’t changed at all.”

He reached for a slice of bread, tearing into it like it was a croissant at a Paris café. “Sure, I have. I’ve matured. I drink my espresso black now. I read the news.”

You raised an eyebrow. He grinned wider. “Okay, I skim headlines. But still. Personal growth.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself, and that only made his grin widen. “There it is,” he said. “I’ve been trying to get a laugh out of you for days.”

You looked at him then, caught off guard by the simple truth of that statement. “How have you been?” he asked when you didn’t say anything.

You hesitated, but only for a second. “I’ve been okay. Busy. Tired. But okay.”

Jay nodded. “Motherhood looks good on you.”

You rolled your eyes but felt your shoulders loosen just a little. Maybe it was the sun. Or the coffee. Or Jay’s ridiculousness. “What about you?” you asked, cutting into your food. “Still cruising through life with no plans?”

Jay hummed thoughtfully. “More or less. No wife. No kids. No fixed address. You know me. I like the freedom. Wake up wherever I want. Say yes to whatever I want. No five-year plan. No mortgage.”

You raised a brow. “Living the dream, huh?”

“Something like that.” He gave you a slow smile. “Though… I might be willing to settle down. For the right person. You know, someone who cooks. Someone like you.”

You gave him a look, unimpressed but amused. “I don’t cook.”

“Ah,” he said, feigning disappointment. “There goes my dream.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you took a bite.

“I’m serious, though,” he said, grinning. “Don’t you feel lucky? You could be the one to tame me.”

“I think I’d rather wrestle a crocodile.”

Jay laughed, tossing a sugar packet at you. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

You shook your head, biting into a still-warm pastry and letting the silence settle for a moment. His words echoed faintly in your mind—the right person—but you didn’t give them space to take root. Not now.

The sun had climbed higher now, and the light on the water shimmered like glass. You exhaled quietly, letting yourself enjoy the moment. Just for now.

The breakfast with Jay had ended the way most things with him did—on a laugh, with one too many compliments. He walked you back to the docks like a gentleman, offered you his jacket when the wind picked up, and only let go of your hand once he helped you down from the boat.

“You sure you don’t want to grab lunch too?” he asked, hopeful.

“It’s nine in the morning.”

“Exactly. Gives us plenty of time to work up an appetite.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “If you know what I mean.”

You scoffed. “Keep your dick in your pants. Don’t just go around brandishing it to every girl you meet.”

Jay grinned like he was being tickled. “So territorial. Exactly how I like my women.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips gave you away. “Bye, Jay.”

Back at the house, you barely had time to slip your shoes off before you heard someone knocking out back. You peeked through the window. Sunghoon, holding a sack of soil in one hand and a small potted herb in the other.

You stepped out, and he gave you a small, wordless smile before heading toward the garden bed like it was the most normal thing in the world. When you asked what he was doing, he only said, “The basil was dying. Figured you’d want fresh ones.” You didn’t say thank you. But you brought him a glass of water anyway.

That became the pattern. Jay would show up late mornings or just after lunch, always with something in hand—coffee, pastries, once even a new pair of designer sunglasses he claimed were on sale from the mainland. He flirted shamelessly, but never crossed the line.

“You’re the only woman I’ve ever met who looks good rolling her eyes at me,” he said once, after catching you doing exactly that. “Dangerous, really.”

You swatted him with a dish towel. He looked like he might thank you for it.

Sunghoon, in contrast, never announced his visits. He just showed up. Fixing the busted shutter. Watering the trees before you could. Replacing the broken porch light without saying a word. He never tried to be noticed, which just made it harder not to notice him.

When Emma asked Jay to help with a school art project, he brought glitter. So much glitter. The three of you spent half the afternoon scraping it off the floor.

When Emma asked Sunghoon, he brought her to the orchard, showed her how to press flowers between books. Taught her the names of each one like they were old friends.

You found them that evening at the table, heads bent over an album they’d made from scratch. She called it ‘Island Things That Make Me Happy.’ The last page had a pressed bloom labeled Mom’s smile. You didn’t ask who picked that one.

Jay took you and Emma on short boat rides when the weather was good. Taught her how to steer while you sat beside them, bare feet up on the seat, pretending not to enjoy it too much.

Sunghoon walked with you both through the orchard when it was too hot to do anything else. Sometimes he said nothing for minutes at a time. And it wasn’t awkward. It was just peaceful and satisfying.

They were opposites in every way. Jay loud and golden, like the blinding sun at noon. Sunghoon was quiet and constant, like the breeze you didn’t feel until it was gone.

And you? You kept your heart carefully tucked away, and you were starting to feel it stir---in laughter that slipped out before you could stop it. In the way your eyes found them without meaning to. In the little moments between breath and memory, it felt almost comforting to imagine what might’ve been if things had gone differently.

“So... who’s winning the boyfriend Olympics?”

You nearly choked on your drink. Amy snorted. “Yeah, we’ve been keeping score.”

You gave them both a flat look from across the kitchen island. “That’s ridiculous.”

But even you had to admit, the past few days had taken a turn. Jay had declared open season on flirtation, popping up everywhere you went—elbowing his way into your errands, offering dramatic compliments every time you so much as tied your hair up. Sunghoon, though he didn’t say much, would always show up when you needed someone, fixing things around the house and helping in any way he could without being asked.

Different approaches. Same intentions.

“She blushes more around Jay,” Lea whispered behind her wineglass.

“No, no,” Amy countered, eyes narrowing through the open shutters. “Watch her when Sunghoon’s around. She goes all weird and soft.”

Jake, who had been half-listening while Emma played with his shoelaces under the table, finally spoke up. “Honestly? I’m just glad no one’s betting on me. That would be a very sad chart.”

Lea laughed. “Please, you’re clearly the fan favorite in the under-six category.”

Jake raised both hands in surrender. “What can I say? Emma has excellent taste.”

“Knock it off,” you told your friends as you sat on the chair next to Jake’s. “No one’s winning whatever competition you think is happening here.”

Amy nudged Jake’s arm with a mischievous grin. “Come on, Jake. If you had to choose—Team Playboy or Team Lover Boy?”

Jake blinked. “Why are you asking me? And wait, Playboy and Lover Boy? What’s my nickname?”

“Shy Boy, of course,” Lea replied, and that made Jake grimace.

“Come on, Shy Boy. Pick a side,” Amy said cheerfully. “You have to because you’re already here… And because you gave up too easily.”

Jake frowned. “I didn’t give up. I was never in the running. Didn’t even have the intention of joining.”

“Oh please,” Lea chimed in, eyes sparkling. “You had a head start. You were the first candidate. First night. First everything. And now look at you—sidelined, like a retired soccer player coaching kiddie league.”

Jake narrowed his eyes at her. “Wow. Okay. That was a little offensive.”

Amy cackled, clearly delighted. “Look at him. He’s sulking.”

“I’m not sulking,” Jake muttered. Then he paused, glanced down at Emma, tangled around his foot, and sighed. “I’m just a maybe-dad, happily engaged, trying to eat a muffin in peace.”

Lea made a show of whispering in Amy’s ear. “He’s sulking,” she said loudly.

You laughed when Jake’s brows furrowed deeper. Then, trying to de-escalate the teasing, you told them to stop. “That’s enough, girls. It’s never gonna happen.”

All three of them looked at you. “They could have pieces of Emma. But none of them are getting another piece of me,” you declared, which was more of a reminder to yourself than to anyone else. You caught Jake’s gaze beside you. 

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him and pointed with your index finger.  “Not even you, Shy Boy.”

He groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on! I said I’m not—” he huffed, giving all three of you a flat look. “Whatever,” he muttered finally, biting into his pastry with another huff.

The girls burst into laughter again, and Jake muttered something through a mouthful of muffin. Outside, the sun climbed higher over the garden, where Jay’s lounging by the fountain and Sunghoon kept quietly working in the dirt, unaware—or maybe perfectly aware—of the scoreboard inside.

xi: Shoreline Shenanigans

The night was warm and glittering, the sky clear and wide above the orange orchard as lanterns swayed in the breeze. Lea had gone all out with the decorations, stringing up lights between trees, setting up a long table draped with linen and wildflowers. Music was playing from a speaker, and the air was rich with grilled food, wine, and overlapping conversations. It was Amy’s last night on the island, and she was determined to make it count.

“Come on, one more round!” she shouted, raising her glass from where she stood atop a chair. “Here’s to endless summers and hoping wrinkles and fine lines don’t show on our faces until we’re eighty!”

Everyone laughed and drank to that—including you, seated between Jake and Lea with Emma fast asleep in Jake’s lap, a flower crown lopsided on her tiny head. Jay was across the table, looking like he belonged in a magazine spread—tan, teeth flashing, wineglass in hand. Sunghoon stood near the grill, quietly flipping skewers, but he paused to honor Amy’s toast.

You and Jake brought Emma upstairs, making sure she was sound asleep before rejoining the party. The night blurred sweetly—giggles and half-shouted conversations, music thumping louder, Amy pulling you into a spin, Jay joining with a twirl that nearly knocked over a candelabra.

Past midnight, your girls were lying on blankets under the stars, too drunk to form coherent sentences. Amy had pulled Jake onto the grass with them, drunkenly urging him to take a group photo. You wandered away from the crowd, down the winding stone steps to the beach, where the music faded into background noise. The sea stretched before you, dark and quiet, and the breeze carried the faint smell of salt and sand.

“You’re sneaking off again,” came Jay’s voice behind you.

You turned to see him leaning against the railing of the stone steps, wineglass still in hand but half-empty now. He looked softer in the moonlight. Less like a flirt and more real.

“And you’re stalking me,” you said, scoffing.

Jay smirked, stepping closer. “Guilty. But only because every time I blink, you vanish. Starting to think you’re avoiding me on purpose.”

“I am.”

That made him laugh. “You’re very honest. Would it hurt to sugarcoat things a little?”

You chuckled, then turned your gaze back to the sea, arms folded loosely over your chest. The waves lapped at the sand gently. “Shouldn’t you be back up there? Being charming?”

“I should be, but there’s no point since you’re not there anymore,” he replied without missing a beat.

You let out a dry laugh. “You are such a flirt.”

He shrugged. “Don’t you already know that?”

“Yes, and it still surprises me every time,” you sighed, tutting. “I gotta get better at that.”

You glanced at him then, and he was already looking at you. The smile he gave you was gentler this time. “Think me sticking around would help you get lots of practice with that?”

“Probably,” you said half-heartedly, shrugging.

“No, but seriously,” he beamed, tilting his head as he looked at you. “Would you?”

You snorted. “You’re not seriously talking about staying, are you?”

Jay shrugged, pushing one hand in his pocket as he finished the contents of his glass. You blinked, genuinely perplexed.

“Whatever, Jay,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

Jay fixed his gaze to the sea, considering. “Maybe I’m serious. Or maybe I’m just floating ideas. Who knows, I might finally be ready to be someone’s stable domestic guy. You know? Have kids. Grow tomatoes. Settle down.”

You laughed. “Settle down?”

He grinned. “I could even do the whole marriage proposal surprise thing. Maybe a grand church wedding on top of a hill, too.”

You looked at him, trying to read the expression behind the smile. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.” He laughed lightly. “Okay, maybe I am. But it’s not a bad idea. I’d definitely give it a try for you.”

You stared at him, mouth parted slightly, not sure if you were supposed to laugh or run. He was joking. He had to be. It was Jay, after all. Jay, who flirts like it’s his life’s calling—who didn’t do ‘serious’, who didn’t believe in marriage or love, let alone surprise proposals and weddings on hills. And even if he meant any of it, even a little, you didn’t want to believe it.

He took a step closer, but didn’t touch you. Just looked at you like he was waiting for something. You blinked, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

You didn’t answer. And then he moved slowly, deliberately, reaching to place his hands on your shoulders. You knew what was coming. Could’ve stepped back. Should’ve.

But you didn’t. You stayed frozen in place, caught somewhere between disbelief and curiosity, until his mouth brushed softly against yours. It was fleeting, too quick, almost like it didn’t happen at all. When you didn’t move or react, he came back for more.

The next kiss was nothing like the first. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until your body was pressed against his. His mouth moved against yours like he’d been waiting to taste you all night.

You gasped into him, one hand flying up to grip his shoulder, the other threading into his hair. He groaned when your hips grazed him, walking you backwards until your spine hit the stone wall behind you.

Then his hands started moving. His fingers slid beneath your shirt, his palms hot against your bare skin as they roamed your back, your sides, your hips. You clung to him, legs slightly parting to let him press in closer, and he did—grinding into you with a slow roll of his hips that made your breath catch.

“Shit,” he muttered against your mouth. 

You felt drunk, even though you weren’t. Dizzy, lit up from the inside out. Jay pulled away just enough to look at you and utter your name like a prayer. 

Then you were kissing him again, deeper this time, like you couldn’t help it. His hand cupped the back of your neck, tilting your face to kiss you harder and rougher. His other hand slipped down, gripping your thigh, dragging it up against his hip—and you let him, desperate for more of that friction, of that hard, raging bulge between his legs.

You were losing yourself. You wanted to lose yourself. And maybe you would’ve—if not for that voice in the back of your head. The one that reminded you of the promise you made to yourself.

You pulled back, gasping, lips swollen and fingers still tangled in his shirt. Jay’s chest rose and fell against yours. “Hey,” he said breathlessly. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I can’t… Jay, I can’t do this.”

He blinked. The confusion hit first, then frustration. “Why not?”

“Because,” you whispered, stepping back, shoving your hands through your hair. “I said I wouldn’t. I can’t. I’m not supposed to—”

“To what?” he asked, voice low. “Feel something?”

Your heart raced in your chest. But you didn’t answer. You didn’t even look at him again. You needed air. You needed distance. You needed to get out of your own head.

You turned and ran barefoot across the sand and up the stairs, heartbeat roaring in your ears. You continued to run up the path until the music was faded and the lights from the party were nothing but soft specks in the distance.

You didn’t stop until your feet hit sand again. Until the beach opened up in front of you again. And you found someone already there—Sunghoon, standing by the shore, surprised at your sudden appearance.

Great, another storm, waiting for you.

“Hey,” he called out, brows furrowing with concern when he noticed your expression. He stepped closer. “Are you okay? Are you—are you crying?”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears. Not until his hand came up to gently brush one from your cheek. You slapped it away, then turned your back to him, dragging your sleeve across your face.

“What are you doing here, Hoon?” you muttered.

“I… I was here first,” he said, voice cautious. He tried to close the distance again, but you took a step back. “What happened? What are you running from?”

You laughed bitterly, wrapping your arms around yourself and looking down at your bare feet. “God, don’t start with that.”

Sunghoon sighed, but didn’t say anything. He walked over to you, taking off his sandals and offering it at your feet. You stared at it for a moment, then at him.

“Please. Just take them,” he said softly. “It’s cold.”

You didn’t take the sandals. You didn’t move at all. Just stood there, arms still wrapped tightly around yourself, refusing to look at him. Sunghoon didn’t insist. He just left them at your feet and turned away, hands in his pockets, gaze flitting toward the cliffs.

Above you, perched on the hill, your house glowed faintly through the trees—lit up like a beacon against the dark cliffs. The old haunted mansion, now bright and lively, strung with fairy lights and memories.

“You remember that night?” he said quietly. “We sketched the plans for your hotel on the back of a pub’s order sheet. I can’t believe I’m seeing it all in real life. Well, part of it.” Your hands curled into fists at your sides.

“We were mapping out every room,” he continued, smiling faintly. “You said you wanted a courtyard with a fountain. But not a flashy one, just something simple and charming.”

“Stop,” you said.

He paused. “Stop what?”

“Stop talking,” you replied bitterly. “Don’t stand there talking about floor plans like we built that place together. Like you had anything to do with it. Don’t act like you get to be part of that story.” Your voice was cold, and you didn’t regret a single word.

“But I was part of that story,” he said gently.

“You were supposed to be,” you smirked, turning to face him. “You said you’d stay. You said you’d be here and that you’d build a life here with me. We made plans. And then you left.”

His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to speak—but you weren’t done.

“And I know. I know I told you to leave, but that’s not the point. The point was that you never fought for me, Sunghoon. You never fought for us.”

Sunghoon uttered your name helplessly, reaching for you but you stepped back before he could.

You took a deep breath, looking up at the sky in hopes that your tears wouldn’t fall. “You didn’t even try to fix it,” you continued, voice breaking. “You didn’t write. You didn’t call. You just vanished. And I waited—God, I waited so long, thinking maybe you’d at least try. But you didn’t.”

“I tried,” he said softly, you almost didn’t catch it.

You scoffed, mocking.“Well, apparently you didn’t try hard enough!”

“I came back!” he snapped. The sudden rise in his voice startled both of you. “I broke off the engagement and came right back!”

That stopped you. His outburst and his confession—it stopped your from talking, your mind suddenly slow at comprehending his words.

You gawked as Sunghoon’s jaw clenched before he continued. “I came running back to you because I wanted to make things right. But when I got here, I was told you were off with someone else!”

You blinked at him, stunned. “What do you mean?”

He scoffed. “Oh, so that wasn’t true, then? You weren’t off having the time of your life with some guy?”

“It was true,” you said briskly. “It doesn’t matter. What do you mean you came back here?”

Sunghoon took a step back, hurt and regret were evident on his expression, and the moonlight glinted in his eyes, wet with tears he was holding back. He took a deep breath, ran his hands through his hair and looked out to the vast ocean.

He didn’t say anything for a few moments. Neither did you, still reeling in confusion and hurt at his revelation, your anger unraveling slowly and painfully.

You had built this story in your head, over and over—the story where he just didn’t love you enough to fight. But now, all of a sudden, it cracked down the middle. You had been wrong, and it hurt.

“I made a mistake,” he said after a while, looking down at his feet. “I was scared, and stupid, and I let my pride get in the way. But I never stopped thinking about you. Not once.”

You looked away. The tears were hot again, the ache crawling back up your throat.

“I never got to tell you,” he continued. “That I came back and that I love you. I thought I was too late. I just… I just went home.”

“I went home,” he repeated, laughing at himself. “My fiancee called me a fool and married me to prove it.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just kept quiet. You just stood there, tired, trembling, toes dug into the cold sand, staring at the man you once thought you’d never see again

He took a step forward, close enough for you to feel the heat of his body. He raised a hand, hesitated, then tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, letting it sink in. Letting yourself feel it for a second. Then you stepped back.

“You’re too late, Sunghoon,” you said. But even you didn’t believe it.

xii: The Elephant in the Room

The sun was high and bright when the three men boarded Jay’s yacht, one after another, as if summoned by some invisible alarm. Jake had mentioned that it was about time he had to fly back home for work, and they all knew they couldn’t keep avoiding the topic forever. Not when the answer might change all of their lives.

They sat around the polished table on the deck, a bottle of wine already open but no one had poured a glass yet. Jake spoke first. “Are we really doing this?”

Jay leaned back in his seat, sunglasses perched on his head, his face unreadable for once. “It’s now or never, boys. It’s not like we can just stick around the island forever.”

“You’re right, we can’t,” Jake agreed, sighing. “I mean, this place is lovely, but like I said, I have to go back soon.”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He was standing by the railing, arms folded, eyes fixed on the stretch of sea. The silence hung for too long before Jay pushed his chair back with a loud scrape and stood.

“Let’s go see her.”

The three of them walked up to the house together—quiet and a little awkward, like kids on their way to the principal’s office. You greeted them at the door, bleary-eyed and exhausted from the night before, but you didn’t turn them away. Emma was at school, and you weren’t sure if it was a blessing or a punishment that this talk had to happen without her around.

You led them to the sitting room. Nobody sat, but you did. Jay cleared his throat. “We figured it was time to talk about everything.”

You gave a tired nod. “Okay. Talk.”

Jake stepped forward, looking as sheepish as ever. “First of all… sorry. We didn’t mean to corner you like this. We just thought it’d be easier if we were all here. Together.”

“Less yelling that way,” Jay muttered.

Sunghoon ignored them both. “She looks like you,” he said quietly, eyes on you. You weren’t sure if he meant it as comfort or accusation.

“Yes, exactly,” Jake agreed. “And that makes it hard to guess which one of us is her dad, so… I think it’s time we figure that out.”

Jay chimed in casually. “She laughs like my sister’s kid. They could pass as siblings, to be honest.”

Jake shook his head. “Have you seen her nose? That’s gotta be from me.”

Sunghoon raised a hand. “She has dimples.”

“Yeah,” Jake agreed, though his shrug said otherwise. “But her voice sounds exactly like my mom’s.”

Jay scoffed. “Your mom sounds like a six-year-old child?”

Jake gave him a flat look. “What about her eyes, then? Don’t they look like mine?”

“No, they don’t. But she has posh tastes,” Jay replied, smirking. “Pretty sure elegance and class are hereditary traits.”

“More like extravagance,” Sunghoon muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” Jay questioned, glancing at Sunghoon with a scowl.

“Guys, enough,” you chided, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Are you here to argue resemblances or what?”

Jay shrugged. “We should just check. Get DNA samples and find out once and for all. Although, I would be totally fine with assuming fatherhood if you guys wanna back out.”

“No one’s backing out,” Sunghoon snapped. “This is a serious discussion. You can’t make jokes like that.”

Jay turned to him, smirking in amusement. “Okay, Lover Boy. Relax.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Jake chimed in, raising a hand. “I, myself, would love to find out if she’s my daughter, but… hear me out. I know it’s gonna sound crazy, but I don’t mind being half her father.”

There was a pause. You looked up at them. Jake shrugged, smiling as he added, “Or one-third, for that matter. I mean, we’ve all met her. She’s wonderful. I’d rather have a third than nothing at all.”

Sunghoon sighed, placing his hands on his waist. “Sorry to break it to you, Mr. Sim, but that’s not how the world works. You can’t just claim to be one-third of a dad.”

“Why not?” Jay said. “She’s already got all of us wrapped around her little finger. What difference does it make who passed on the stronger jawline? And finding out she’s not mine would honestly devastate me, so I’d rather not take my chances.”

Sunghoon was quiet for a long moment. Jake looked between the two of them, then back at you. “Two versus one? Guess majority wins?”

You scoffed and rose to your feet, exasperated. “Okay, you know what, guys? You need to shut up, all of you. And get out of my house.”

None of them moved, just stared at you in confusion. Jay was the first to speak and say, “Don’t you think it’s time we find out which one of us is her dad?”

“No,” you replied smugly, tilting your chin up so you could meet their gazes. “You don’t get to come here and demand to be a father to my child. You may have helped create her, but you don’t get to walk in now and play the father card. It doesn’t work like that.”

Sunghoon called out your name softly but you cut him off, pointing a finger at him. “No. I’ve done well by myself and I didn’t need any of you. I went through everything without you. I’m not gonna need you now that she’s older and my life is better.”

“But you didn’t have to do it all alone,” said Jake, making you glance at him at once. He looked over at Jay and Sunghoon, then back at you. “If you had told me… no, if you had told any of us, I think I speak for all of us when I say we would’ve been there for you. We wouldn’t have let you go through all of that alone.”

You stared at him—at all of them—and for a second, no one said anything. Not even you. Then you pointed toward the door.

“Get out,” you said. “All of you, get out.”

xiii: “What's Better Than One Dad?”

The house was unusually quiet for a weekend. No laughter echoing from the garden, no sound of someone tinkering in the backyard or somewhere around the house. It was just the soft ticking of the old wall clock and Emma’s tiny feet padding into the kitchen, where you were nursing a cold cup of tea you’d forgotten to drink.

She climbed onto the stool across from you, legs swinging, chin resting in her hands. “Where is everybody, Mommy?” she asked.

You smiled, reaching over to tuck her hair behind her ear. “They’re not here, honey. They must have chores and other things to do today.”

“But they weren’t here yesterday either,” Emma said, pouting as she lay her head on the table. “They said they were taking me out to sea today.”

“Who said that?” you asked softly, brushing her hair with your fingers.

She shrugged. “My dads.”

You blinked, hand pausing. “Your what?”

Emma lifted her head to look at you, eyes bright and serious. “My dads. Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon.”

Your stomach turned. You hadn’t heard those names spoken so casually in the last forty-eight hours—not since you threw them out of your house. You set your cup down. 

“Emma, they’re not your dads,” you said carefully, patting her head. “They’re just friends.”

She tilted her head, confused. “But Auntie Amy and Auntie Lea said one of them is my dad.”

You froze. “They… said that?”

Emma nodded. “They were whispering but I still heard them. I have super ears, mommy. I hear everything.”

“Emma, what did Mommy say about eavesdropping on grown-up conversations?” you asked, trying to keep your tone steady.

She looked sheepish for a second, then brightened again. “But it’s true, right, Mommy?”

You sighed, moving around the counter to crouch in front of her stool. “Emma. Do you… want a dad?”

She shrugged again, legs still kicking back and forth under her seat. “I think so. Everybody has dads.”

You smiled softly, cupping her cheek. “Yes, sweetheart. But having no dad is not so bad. You have me, and Auntie Lea, and Auntie Amy and everyone else in the village who loves you.”

“I know,” she said quickly, then added, “but I still want one. Dads are fun.”

You sat back on your heels, forcing a smile for your daughter. “Are they now?”

She nodded enthusiastically, eyes sparkling. “They buy ice cream and ribbons. They show you all the cool stuff. And they can carry you…” She raised both arms way above her head. “This high!”

You couldn’t help the little laugh that slipped out. God, she was too much sometimes. “I can carry you that high.”

“No, mommy. You’re not tall,” she giggled as you scooped her into your arms.

You carried her out of the kitchen, but her voice dropped again, more thoughtful now. “Leo’s dad picks him up and spins him like this,” she said, arms stretched like an airplane. “It looks like flying. Uncle Jay did that too. I liked it. It was fun.”

You felt your chest tighten. She wasn’t asking for much—just a little bit of wonder. And here you were, too busy shielding her from the past to even consider the possibility of what a father could mean to her now.

And to be honest with yourself, you weren’t sure if you were doing it for her anymore. Or was it for yourself all along?

“Can I have one?” she asked, small voice in your ear. “Just one?”

You looked at her—your bright, curious, heartbreakingly hopeful daughter—and felt your heart break in two. “Do you have a favorite?” you asked, sitting on the couch with her.

Emma thought hard, pressing her finger to her chin. “Not really. Uncle Jake is nice and buys me stuff. Uncle Jay has a cool boat. And Uncle Hoon is strong.”

She sighed, frustration painting her expression and you couldn’t help but laugh. She turned to you with a pout, “I like all of them. You have to pick one for me, Mommy.”

You paused, scrambling for an answer that didn’t exist. Before you could say anything, Lea appeared with a box from her café. “How would you feel about three dads?” she asked, setting the box of cookies on the coffee table and sitting on Emma’s other side.

Emma gasped excitedly. “I can have three dads?” she asked Lea, practically vibrating on the couch.

Lea looked at you with a knowing smile. “Of course. What’s better than one dad?”

She turned back to Emma and winked. “Three dads.”

Emma gasped again, absolutely buzzing in her seat. “Three dads! I want three dads!”

You smiled nervously. “Emma, slow down. You can’t just decide that on your own.”

“Why not?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.

You glanced at Lea, then turned back to your daughter. “Because the dads—uh, the men—have to agree to it too. It’s a big responsibility. You can’t just call someone ‘Dad’ without asking first.”

Emma’s brows furrowed. “But they’ll say yes. They like me.”

Of course they do. It wouldn’t take much to convince those three men, but you had to help Emma manage her expectations. “They do like you,” you admitted, heart softening despite yourself. “But liking you and being ready to be your dad are different things. They don’t live here with us and even if they become your dad, you won’t exactly see them every day.”

Lea chimed in. “But they will come see you as much as they can.”

“That’s okay. I’ll ask them,” she said firmly, arms crossed with a serious pout. “I’ll ask all three.”

Lea let out a laugh. “Well, that should be fun to watch.”

You gave her a look, but there was no real hate in it.

The next morning, just as you were folding laundry in the living room, there was a knock on the door. You hesitated. Emma was still in her pajamas, sitting on the floor playing with seashells. Lea had left earlier to open the café. You weren’t expecting anyone.

You opened the door slowly. Jake was standing there with a bouquet of wildflowers. Jay held a box of pastries from the bakery, and Sunghoon just had that awkward, earnest look on his face that you knew far too well.

“Hi,” Jake said, flashing that disarming smile. “We, uh, Lea said you wanted to see us?”

Jay raised the box. “We brought breakfast. Peace offering. Don’t throw us out yet.”

You stepped aside wordlessly, letting them in. Emma looked up and immediately lit up like the sun. “My dads!”

You shot her a warning look, but the guys all froze. “Oh my, god,” you muttered, facepalming as you turned to hide your face.

“Did she just—?” Jay asked voice breaking so he had to clear his throat.

Jake's hand was on his mouth. “She said dads.”

“She did,” you muttered, rubbing your forehead and shaking your head, still unable to look at them.

Emma ran over and hugged Jake's leg. “You came back!”

Sunghoon crouched down in front of her, eyes soft. “Did you miss us, munchkin?”

She nodded hard. “Mommy said I can have three dads, if you say yes.”

Jay let out a quiet laugh and stepped forward. “Of course, we’ll say yes. You don’t even need to ask, princess.”

“Hold on,” you said quickly, gently tugging Emma away from them. You looked at the three of them—her dads. “First, let’s, uh… Let’s talk about this. Follow me.”

All three looked at you but followed you anyway when you went to the kitchen. Jake told Emma to stay and promised her it wouldn’t take long.

“Three dads?” Jay asked as soon as you were out of earshot. He chuckled, like he couldn’t believe it. “She’s okay with three dads?”

You groaned. “Oh, you have no idea.”

You placed your hands on your hips, stomping your feet as you stared at the three men before you. “Okay. I care about Emma more than anything in this world. More than my own life.”

“Of course—”

You raised a finger at Sunghoon. “Let me talk.”

Sunghoon nodded, stepping back. Jake mimed zipping his lips. You took a deep breath before continuing. “You can check if you want to. I won’t stop you. Or you can do what you said—you can step up. Be her dads. All three of you. I don’t mind, as long as she’s happy.”

“But she’s going to need consistency. She doesn’t need three men floating in and out of her life when it suits them. If you’re serious, you don’t just show up when it’s fun. You show up even when it’s hard. Even when you don’t feel like it.”

Jake nodded. “We know that.”

“I’m not asking you to stay here forever,” you added, more gently this time. “You have lives. Jobs. People waiting for you—Jake, you’re getting married soon.”

“I’m not expecting you to drop everything and move to this island. That would be unfair. And Emma doesn’t need you to be here every day. She just needs to know you’ll be there when it matters. That she can count on you, even from afar. If you can do that, then,” you paused, raised your hands in surrender, and sighed. “Then be her dad—Dads! Whatever you want to call it.”

Sunghoon looked down, nodding slowly. “Yeah. We can do that.”

Jay let out a breath. “Long-distance dad duty. Shouldn’t be so hard.”

Jake simply said, “We’ll make it work. Promise.”

You smiled, genuinely this time.  “Okay,” you said softly, nodding toward the door. “Go on. She’s waiting.”

The three of them turned to leave, and Jay laughed out loud when he spotted Emma peeking from behind the curtains. “Oh no. We’ve got an eavesdropper!” he announced, grinning.

Emma shrieked, bolting from her hiding spot, her giggles echoing through the house as Johnny chased after her. You followed behind, just in time to see her leap into Jake's arms, then reach for Sunghoon hand, then tug at Jay's sleeve, all while talking a mile a minute.

You leaned against the doorframe, watching them with a strange fullness in your chest. You still didn’t know how any of this would work. But maybe it didn’t have to make sense. Maybe love was enough.

xiv: “Only I Can Fix Myself”

The sea stretched wide and sparkling under the Corsican sun, gentle waves lapping against the hull of Jay’s yacht as it cut smoothly through the water. Emma was practically vibrating with excitement, darting from one end of the deck to the other, yelling about dolphins that no one else could see. Jake and Sunghoon were lounging at the back, one lazily flipping through a comic book offered by one of Jay’s crews, the other peeling oranges and throwing slices at Emma, who cackled every time she caught one in her mouth. Jay was at the helm, sunglasses on, wind tugging his hair as he grinned.

You sat near the bow, sunbathing on a sunbed with Lea and a half-empty drink in hand, watching your daughter live a little dream. She had three men completely wrapped around her finger and absolutely no idea how rare that was.

“Amy would’ve loved this,” said Lea, sunglasses perched on her nose. “What do you think she’s doing right now?”

“Drinking Dom on some wealthy investor’s superyacht?” you guessed, grinning.

Lea giggled. “Dressed in something skimpy that’s definitely fit for the yacht but wildly inappropriate for the business transaction she went there for.”

You both giggled, your mind drifting back to sunkissed days on the beach in places you couldn’t even pronounce. Trusting Amy to talk your way into expensive bars where all three of you could charm handsome tourists to buy you drinks. Sneaking into exclusive yacht parties and pretending you belonged there. It all seemed so far away now.

“Wow, we’re old,” Lea sighed. “When was the last time we had fun like we did in college?”

You thought about it. “Probably that summer before we found out I was pregnant with Emma.”

“Right. The summer after college,” she said, then glanced over at the helm where Jay was. “We were in Jay’s boat at the time.”

You nodded, remembering the days. “Yeah, we were.”

Jay had her crew take the day off, so you and Lea had packed food for the trip. At lunch, Jay grilled fish on the little onboard stove. Jake handled the drinks, Sunghoon cut fresh fruit, and Emma supervised them all like a tiny captain. The laughter never died \own. Even you found yourself relaxed, for once—letting your walls down just enough to smile without second-guessing it.

You’d lost count on how many times you had to reapply Emma’s sunscreen because she just kept jumping into the water with Sunghoon. Jay had the yacht dock at a secluded shore, where Jake and Emma spent almost an hour looking for marine life in the shallows and taking pictures of them. The word ‘Dad’ had been echoing all day.

The sun began to dip by the time you made it back to the village. The sky had gone from blue to soft, velvety lilac, and the yacht anchored close to shore for the night. Emma had fallen asleep below deck, wrapped in one of Jay’s warm blankets and snoring into a pillow. Sunghoon, Jake and Lea were still above, playing cards and arguing about the rules of some ridiculous game you’d never heard of.

Jay brought you another drink and asked if you wanted to sit with him up front, where the sea was quiet and the stars had just begun to wink into view. You followed him.

The two of you sat side by side on the padded bench near the front of the yacht, legs stretched out, drinks in hand. The breeze had softened, brushing against your skin like a whisper. Waves lapped gently against the hull. From the back of the boat, you could still hear muffled voices—Lea laughing, Sunghoon protesting something, Jake talking over it—but out here, it felt like you were in a different world.

Jay took a slow sip of his drink, then leaned back, eyes scanning the dark horizon. “Today was nice,” he said quietly.

You nodded. “Yeah. Emma’s probably dreaming of dolphins right now.”

Jay smiled at that. “She’s a great kid.”

You smiled. “She is.” You were both quiet for a moment, just gazing out into the sea and taking in the cool air. Jay broke the silence first. “About the other night. Amy’s party.”

You turned your head slightly but didn’t say anything. You would rather not talk about it, really, but it wouldn’t be so bad to bring it up now. He shifted, resting his elbows on his knees. “I wasn’t drunk. I know I acted like it, but I wasn’t. I knew what I was doing.”

You hummed, acknowledging him without saying anything. Jay continued, “And I knew what I was saying. I meant it.”

“Meant what, Jay?”

He chuckled under his breath. Not the smug kind, the self-deprecating kind. “I meant it when I said I don’t mind settling down with you.”

Your brows furrowed. Jay glanced at you, more honest than he’d ever been. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve spent years chasing things. Business, money, women, parties, noise. But it’s like I keep coming up empty. Then you wrote to me and it was like a hand was reaching out to me. I thought maybe if I came back, everything would fall into place. I thought maybe you could fix me.”

You stared at the ocean. “You wanted me to fix you?”

“I didn’t think of it that way at first,” he admitted. “But yeah. I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing at first. I told myself it was fate or just some unfinished business. But the truth was I just wanted someone to look at me and see something worth saving. And I thought it could be you.”

Another wave rolled beneath the yacht. You felt the dip and sway of it in your chest. “I want to be someone better,” he said. “You make people better, you know? You make them want to do things right. I’m willing to change. I’d give up the boat, the business, the whole damn playboy act. I’d stay. If it meant a shot at a different life. A better one. With you.”

You turned to face him. “Jay…”

He gave a small smile. “I know. It sounds desperate. And stupid. It probably is.”

You hesitated before speaking. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, Jay. But… I don’t think I can do that for you.” You meant it. He came here chasing something, and you weren’t what he needed. Not in the way he thought.

“I’m not what you’re looking for, Jay,” you said gently. “You don’t need a relationship to fix you. You need to find meaning on your own.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “I know. I mean, I didn’t, but I know now.” He chuckled. “It was a mistake coming here thinking you could fix me. Only I can fix myself.”

“But,” he added, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I don’t regret coming. I met the most wonderful girl in the world and became her dad. That’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Your breath caught. “Jay…”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. I’m not asking for anything else. You were right to say no. But I still get to be there for her. And that means everything to me.”

You smiled, a little teary now. “She’s lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he murmured.

Your chest tightened. He wasn’t talking about you anymore. And yet somehow… it felt like the most honest thing he’d ever said. “I’m sorry, Jay.”

“I know,” he replied, his signature smirk appearing on his lips now. He relaxed in his seat, taking a deep breath. “Though I bet you would have wanted to be the one who gets to tie me down, don’t you?”

That made you laugh, genuinely, head lolling back and cackling type of laugh. “I don’t think I would’ve been able to even if I tried.”

Jay shrugged, “Yeah, but you wish you could, don’t you?” he asked, winking.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide how it made you smile. “Fine. I would have considered it an honor to have tied down the menace of a playboy that you are, Park Jongseong.”

Jay leaned back in his seat, that familiar smirk tugging at his mouth, but his eyes were calm now. You mirrored him, your laugh fading into a sigh as you leaned your arms on the railing again, the sea stretching endlessly beneath the moonlight.

It was peaceful. Comfortable, even. Until Jay’s gaze flicked upwards. You didn’t notice at first. But then his smirk widened, and he clicked his tongue. “Lover Boy’s lurking,” he muttered.

You blinked, turned slightly—and there he was. Sunghoon. Leaning against the side rail up the deck, pretending to look out at the horizon but very clearly trying not to stare your way. One hand holding a glass he hadn’t touched in a while. The wind catching his hair and blowing it out of his face to reveal a slight crease on his forehead.

You looked away too quickly. Jay laughed under his breath. “God, you’re so bad at this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said briskly.

Jay raised a brow. “You don’t even realize you’re lying to yourself. That’s the problem.”

You exhaled. “Jay��”

“Okay,” he said, groaning as he stood up. “But if you don’t do the follow your heart thing and say yes to him, you’re an idiot.”

You scoffed indignantly. “Since when were you an expert at following your heart?”

“Since I flew out here after getting a letter out of nowhere,” he replied, grinning smugly. “I followed my heart and it brought me to my little girl. Who, speaking of, probably needs cuddles.”

Jay turned to leave and you called out to him. “What she needs is to be taken back home! In her own bed!”

Jay raised a hand without glancing back. “On it!”

You stood there a moment longer, palms resting on the cool railing, heart beginning to beat somewhere in your throat. And then you tilted your head up. Sunghoon hadn’t moved. He looked right at you, and his gaze made you swallow something in your throat. You gave the smallest nod, and in the next second, he was gone—probably making his way down as fast as he could.

xv: Lover Boy

You hadn’t taken more than a few steps before Sunghoon appeared at the end of the corridor, breath shallow like he’d run down the stairs. His eyes locked with yours, and the hallway spun just a little from the adrenaline thrumming through your chest.

“Hi,” he said, voice low. “I just—I.. You called me over. I didn’t read that wrong, did I?”

You took another step forward, smiling. “No.”

Sunghoon smiled, relief washing over his face as he stepped closer. “Hi,” he began, taking a deep breath. “How are you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “How am I? Seriously?”

“No, I meant…” he paused, chuckling. “The other night, at Amy’s party. We didn’t get to finish talking.”

“Yeah, we didn’t,” you agreed, looking away.

“I meant what I said,” he declared, seemingly holding his breath. “Every word.”

You studied his face. It was written all over him—the years of regret, the ache of what was lost, the unbearable need to be here with you now. Then he reached for you. His fingers brushed your cheek, ever so gently, like you would disintegrate right then and there if he held you too hard. 

“I love you,” he said softly.

That was all it took for your restraints to collapse. You grabbed him by the collar and kissed him—hard, desperately, like it was the only thing that could fill the void in your heart. Sunghoon kissed you back instantly, a low groan slipping from him as he cradled the back of your head, angling you just right like he’d done a hundred times in his dreams.

Your fingers curled in his shirt, tugging him closer until his hips pressed against yours and you could feel every inch of him. Sunghoon pulled back only long enough to breathe, his eyes locked with yours.

“Come with me,” he whispered against your lips. He led you down the corridor with a hand at your back and urgency in his steps. He opened the nearest cabin door and pulled you inside, closing it behind you with a soft click.

The room was dim, swaying gently with the motion of the yacht. But you barely noticed any of that. The second you locked eyes, you shoved him back against the cabin door and kissed him hard, fingers working fast on the buttons of his shirt.  You pressed your palm against his bare chest and exhaled sharply. “I swear to God, if this is a dream—”

“It’s not,” he groaned, pulling your dress over your head in one motion. “It’s not, it’s not.”

You kissed him again, slower this time but deeper, your hands tangling in his hair. He held you firmly by the waist, then lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his hips as he walked you to the bed.

You landed with a soft thud on the mattress, your bodies still tangled, his lips dragging down your jaw, to your neck. You gasped when he nipped at your skin, clawing at his back.

It was euphoric, the urgency and reverence—a passionate middle ground where every movement was fueled by something you’d long yearned for. His hands roamed your body like he couldn’t touch enough, couldn’t believe you were real and here and his again. All while you arched under him, pulling him closer, hands mapping the curves of his back, the dip of his waist, every familiar part of him you had tried to forget.

His mouth moved over your chest, your collarbones, your stomach. His hand found the space between your legs, cupping and pressing firmly before slipping into the thin fabric of your underwear. You held your breath—waiting for that familiar touch, anticipating.

But Sunghoon paused, looking into your eyes. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured, though you could see the desperation in his expression—as if begging you not to.

“Don’t you dare.”

He smirked and dipped his head almost immediately, tugging your panties off before his lips met your cunt. You arched off the bed, biting your lip hard, your hand gripping the sheets while the other tangled in his hair.

He was slow at first, testing at first, teasing out every sound you could make. Then he went harder, sucked deeper, and both of your hands clutched his hair, hips bucking into his mouth as you chased more of that delightful sensation. He growled something against your skin and climbed back up to kiss you, mouths hot and hungry and impatient.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, grinning. “But I need you. Right now,” he said, kissing you before you could say anything.

You barely noticed anything, too lost in the heat of the moment and the feeling of his lips in yours. You felt him nudge at your entrance only for a second before he slid in with one smooth, desperate motion. You gasped into his mouth, legs locking around him, and he cursed softly against your shoulder. It felt too much and not enough—all at once. 

“You feel—fuck,” he groaned into your ear, holding you tighter. “God, I missed you.”

“Hoon,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “Hoon, I missed you too.”

He moved deep and slow at first, soaking in every sound you made, every desperate plea whispered into his ear. But it didn’t take long for the rhythm to quicken, hips snapping into yours with a force that made the headboard thud lightly against the wall.

You closed your eyes and bit down on your lip to keep from crying out too loud—Jay’s yacht might be big, but not that big—and  Sunghoon smiled at your expression.

He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. “Open your eyes, baby,” he whispered, kissing your temple again. “Look at me.”

You met his gaze, and for a moment, the years melted away. It was just him. Just you. And this. Sunghoon kissed you again and his lips tasted like longing, like something once lost and finally found again. He moved inside you slowly, deeply, dragging every second out like he wanted it carved into memory.

Your hips rose to meet his, greedy for more, and he groaned as he sank deeper. “Fuck,” he whispered, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “You feel the same. No—better.”

He moved faster now, each thrust rocking through you in waves. The headboard tapped lightly against the wall, your hand flailing briefly before gripping the pillow to muffle your sounds. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he murmured, hand sliding up your thigh to pull your leg higher around his waist.

His mouth found your breast, tongue swirling over your nipple until you arched into him, crying out softly. He kissed down your sternum and back up to your mouth, whispering, “I never stopped missing you.”

You kissed him again, open-mouthed, desperate. His hand gripped your hip, guiding your rhythm until you matched him thrust for thrust. Every inch of your skin was on fire, every nerve in your body dancing with every drag and press and pull of his body.

When he angled his hips just right, you gasped, back arching, hands flying to his shoulders. “Right there,” you whimpered.

Sunghoon growled, deep in his chest. “Yeah? You gonna come for me, baby?”

You nodded, unable to speak, your body trembling beneath him. He watched you fall apart, eyes dark and locked on your face, his own breathing sharp and erratic. The climax rushed through you, long and loud and blinding. You buried your face in his neck, biting down on his shoulder to muffle your moan as he pushed deeper, losing himself to the heat and tightness of you.

With a few more hard, ragged thrusts, he followed, spilling into you with a grunt and a trembling curse of your name. His body froze, collapsing into you as you both chased your breath.

Silence. Just the sound of your breaths. Tangled limbs. Sweat and warmth and that aching fullness in your chest. Neither of you moved right away. And he held you, lips pressed to your shoulder, his thumb brushing along your jaw.

Softly, you said, “Say it again.”

Sunghoon hummed, lifting his head to look at you. “Say what again?”

You shifted under him, and he moved to lay beside you on the bed, propping his head on his hand. He watched you fondly, smiling.  “What you told me earlier,” you replied, turning on your side too.

Sunghoon let out a relieved breath, reaching to cup your cheek. “I love you. I never stopped loving you. I love you then, and I love you now.”

“Wow.” You chuckled, heat rising to your cheeks, making you look away sheepishly. “That’s four times.”

“I love you,” he repeated, your name rolling beautifully on his tongue.

“Five,” you muttered, exhaling. “Okay. Enough. I get it.”

“It’s true,” he said, like he needed to convince you.

You took a deep breath and met his gaze again. This time, you were wearing a stern expression. “And if it is? Who’s to say you wouldn’t leave me again? You said you’re married, didn’t you?”

“No,” Sunghoon said quickly. “I mean—yes, I was. But—”

You gasped and sat up in complete shock. “I just slept with a married man,” you blurted, the fact suddenly dawning on you.

“No. That’s not—” Sunghoon chuckled, sitting up too and pulling you into a hug, then planting a soft kiss on your lips. “That’s not what happened.”

You shook your head and were about to say anything but he shushed you. “I was married, but only for a year. We’ve been divorced for five.”

“Oh,” you muttered, nodding and feeling a wash of relief. “Okay. Good. That’s… That’s very good.”

His hold tightened around you, and you hugged him back, melting into his warmth. You stayed like that for a while, just basking in the aftermath.

“So?” he prompted after a few moments of silence. “What now?”

“Now?” you paused, too shy to say it out loud. “Now you stay.”

Sunghoon lifted your chin so you’d meet his gaze. “I will.”

He smiled, genuinely this time, with more relief and confidence. “I will, love. See, you’re gonna need someone to boss you around this island.”

You scoffed, though your heart was full. “If my memory served me well, I think I made it clear to you that I don’t need a man bossing me around my own property.”

“Yeah, you made it very clear indeed, but,” he replied, pausing to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Wouldn’t you want to be dependent on someone from time to time? From what I can see, our dream hotel still needs a lot of work.”

Our dream hotel. The words echoed beautifully in your ears.

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him. “And you’re gonna lend me your expertise for free? No architect fee?”

“All I ask for is a room, my love,” he grinned, kissing the side of your head. “Preferably yours. I like sharing with you.”

You nudged his shoulder with a smile, cheeks flushed. “You’re asking for a lot, Mr. Park.”

“Oh, I’ll give a lot,” he murmured. “I’ll give you everything.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, and then quietly, you said, “Okay. I guess we can share a room.”

Sunghoon smiled, watching you with a slight crease on his forehead, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard it right. But you didn’t repeat yourself. You just laid your head on his chest and closed your eyes.

You didn’t make it back to the main deck. Instead, you stayed in that guest cabin, where the night continued with soft sighs, ragged breaths, and tangled limbs. You didn’t stop at once. Or twice. You lost track somewhere in between kisses and confessions, in the way he said your name like a prayer, in the way you held on to him like he was home.

And by the time sleep caught up to you, your body sore and your heart full, you were curled against his chest with the sound of the sea lulling you into the deepest peace you’d known in years.

xvi: All's Well That Ends Well

The door creaked open, sunlight streaming in just enough to make you wince. You stepped out first, hair still damp from a rushed shower. Sunghoon followed, looking fresh but not fooling anyone—his hand brushing the small of your back as the two of you made your way up to the deck.

The first thing you heard was a gasp. A loud, ridiculous, over-the-top gasp from Lea, who sat dramatically sprawled on a lounge chair. Jay nearly choked on his juice. Even Jake was trying not to laugh, hiding behind a magazine she wasn’t reading. Emma, bless her, was too busy coloring beside Jake to notice.

“Really, guys?” Jay deadpanned. “In my boat? Right after breaking my heart too?”

You raised an eyebrow, brushing past him with a smirk. “Your suite is amazing, Jay.”

Jay gasped again, clutching his chest. “In my suite?!”

“Yes, where else?” you lied shamelessly, taking a seat and reaching for the coffee pot. “And your dimmers are cool.”

Sunghoon, behind you, was trying so hard not to laugh. Jay looked personally victimized. “You absolute heathens,” he declared, hand flying to his mouth for added effect. “I’m gonna throw up.”

You scoffed. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

Everyone burst into laughter. Even Sunghoon.

And as you sipped your coffee, Sunghoon sitting close, your daughter now leaning against your arm with her sketchpad, and the rest of your chaotic, unexpected little family chatting around you, you could feel warmth blooming in your chest.

The summer was over, and something better had begun.

[fin]

[are-you-judd-enough]

My artfight!

Anarchy Splatcast below the cut!

Shiver "Listen up! It's going down... Repping the Splatlands, we are DEEP CUT!"

Frye "Anarchy Spaltcast! We're live!

Big Man Ay! (here we go!)

Shiver "You lip-synch, we drip ink..."

Big Man "Ay! (Shiver, Frye and Big Man!)"

-Section transition-

Big Man "Ay! Ay! (Breaking news, you two!)"

Shiver "Oh? What's got your fins aflapping?"

Frye "Shiver! You oughta know. It's that time!"

Big Man "AAAY! (SPLATFEEEEEEST! Ahem. It's time for a Splatfest.)"

Shiver "Ooo! I like a- wait hang on, where's the printer?"

Frye "Oh yeah, where IS the printer Big Man? You aren't pranking us right?"

Big Man "A-Ay! (N-no, well, it's... uh... Art Fight?)"

Frye "I won't skip out on a chance to party, what's the theme?"

Shiver "Without Further ado, this Splatfe... ahem, Art Fight theme will be none other than..."

Frye "Drumroll! Budda-dudda-budda-dudda... BAM!"

Shiver “Fossils vs Crystals!

Frye “Just two?”

Shiver “Are you sure about this Big Man? This is the Anarchy Splatcast, not Inkopolis News.”

Frye “Yeah, what team are you even gonna support?”

Big Man “Ay..? Ay. (Y-yo, I don't get a team..? I guess I'll be Spectating, it's hard for me to grip a pen anyway.)”

Frye “First come first serve, and I'm getting a heaping order! CRRUNCH!”

Shiver “And if there's a side to take, you wouldn't catch me failing to monopolise on an opprtunity!”

Big Man “Ay? (Are you read to attack?)”

Shiver (close up) “Ferociously, constantly without mercy.”

Shiver “I'll sink my teeth in and shake violently just like Master Mega taught me.”

Big Man “Ay... (No, You Attack by drawing pictures for people...)”

Frye (close up) “How do you even know what people want?.”

Big Man "Ay! (You look at their profile and draw one of their OCs)"

Frye “Sounds easy... almost TOO easy!”

Big Man (Close up) “Ay? Ay! (It's meant to be? And it's fun!)”

Frye "Watch out Shiver or I'll beat you up. With my pencil!”

Big Man “Ay. Ay! (That's the spirit! I guess..)”

Shiver “Well, I'm off to go update my character reference sheets!”

Frye “I'll go scout out the competition and rselect my victims...”

Big Man “Ay! (Remember to take care fo yourself and don't overwork too!)”

Shiver "Thats all for now. Make sure to get your vote in!"

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Ranmaru Main Story Chapter 6

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

(It's like my entire body's refusing to wake up.)

Part 1

My body and eyelids feel heavy.

But then, it came without mercy.

Ranmaru: "Hey, wake up."

(Ugh…)

Someone kept shaking me, clearly trying to wake me up.

With all that shaking, there was no way I could stay asleep.

Mai: "..........."

Ranmaru: "Morning, Lady Mai."

Mai: "..........."

(Maybe this is all just a dream.)

Ranmaru: "Hey, don't try to close your eyes again."

His beautiful face leaned in, and I instinctively furrowed my brows.

Mai: "Ranmaru, why are you here?"

Ranmaru: "Did you already forget?"

Ranmaru lifted his wrist and showed it to me.

(Ah…)

As if pulled along, my hand lifted too.

(I really wanted this to be a dream.)

The thing that firmly linked the two of us was the shackle we were bound with last night.

Ranmaru: "With this on, there's no way we can be apart."

Mai: "If we take it off, we can go our separate ways."

Ranmaru: "Can you swear, right here and now, that you won't try to run even if we take it off?"

Mai: "..........."

Ranmaru: "See? That's why it's a no."

With an exaggerated sigh, he swung our joined hands back and forth.

Ranmaru: "Anyway, we should probably wash up since we ended up falling asleep all sweaty after last night's game of tag."

(Wait—like this?!)

Mai: "A bath?!"

Mai: "I'm fine on my own. Why don't you just rest in the room?"

Ranmaru: "Thanks. But I wouldn't be able to relax knowing you're all alone and lonely."

(If we weren't in this situation, I might actually find those words sweet.)

Mai: "Look, seriously, just wait a minute—"

Ranmaru: "Yes, yes. You can complain after the bath."

He ignored my attempts to back away and tugged on our connected wrists.

(Ranmaru really is strong!)

I tried to resist, but in the end, he just dragged me along.

Ranmaru: "Feels refreshing, right? Aren't you glad you took a bath?"

Mai: "Yeah, I guess so."

(Honestly, I'm just relieved nothing bad happened.)

Before we bathed, he chained his own cuff to a nearby post and stepped outside, leaving me behind.

(Changing in and out of a kimono was a hassle, but I'd done similar things back when I was under surveillance.)

(Even being chained like this doesn't feel all that inconvenient.)

(Wait, no—what the hell am I thinking?! I shouldn't be getting used to being a prisoner in the first place!)

Just as I quietly clenched my fist, he turned to look back at me.

Ranmaru: "Starting today, you'll be sticking with me—wherever I go."

(Huh?)

Mai: "W-Why?"

Ranmaru: "It's because I have no intention of taking off your handcuffs."

Ranmaru: "Things might get a bit inconvenient, but that goes for both of us."

He gave the chain dangling between us a little tug, as if to say he wouldn't tolerate any objections.

(He really does plan to keep an eye on me 24/7.)

In other words, from today on, my chances of escaping are practically zero.

(If I could go back to yesterday, I'd do it all differently!)

Just like that, I began spending my days by Ranmaru's side.

Follower: "Lord Ranmaru! Do you have a moment?"

Ranmaru: "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

It seemed like even here, people relied on him.

(Maybe I can use this opportunity to gather even a little bit of information!)

I tried to casually listen in on their conversation—when suddenly...

Ranmaru: "Oh, right."

Mai: "Huh? Wah—"

He covered both my ears with his hands.

(I can't hear a thing.)

Ranmaru: "………."

His eyes seemed to say he could see right through everything I was thinking.

Then, on another night—

(Ranmaru's asleep, right?)

(Okay, now's my chance.)

I carefully reached for the handcuffs, making sure not to make a sound.

Ranmaru: "Alright, alright. It's bedtime, remember?"

Mai: "Pretending to be asleep is so mean!"

Ranmaru: "Look who's talking. Hey, isn't it time you gave up already?"

All I could do was grit my teeth at his exasperated look.

Every day, I felt like I was dancing in the palm of his hand.

Still, thanks to all this, I learned a few things.

I learned that Kennyo actually spoke more gently than I expected.

(Though he barely talks to me at all.)

I also realized that this place was actually a temple while I was wandering around the estate.

(Kennyo is a monk, so I guess that makes sense.)

(But still, something feels off.)

That vague sense of unease never quite took shape, and all I could do was tilt my head in confusion.

Then, one day—

Mai: "Looks like it's all clean now."

Ranmaru: "Yeah. It's already getting dark, so we should head back to our room."

It happened just as we finished sweeping the temple grounds and started putting the tools away.

???: "Huh? What are you two doing?"

(Who?)

I turned around, startled by the unfamiliar voice that suddenly cut in.

Motonari: "Well, well, you've got quite the taste."

The mysterious man glanced at our shackled wrists and let out a mocking laugh.

(It's not like this is some kind of fetish or anything.)

I wanted to deny it—but the moment I caught a glimpse of Ranmaru's expression, I froze.

Ranmaru: "…………"

(The mood shifted in an instant. Who the hell is this guy?)

As tension spiked, another man stepped out from behind the tan-skinned stranger.

Kicho: "So this is where you've chosen to build your base. Quite the remote location."

Kicho: "A rundown old temple. Perfect place to hide out."

(Something about this one feels different.)

Ranmaru: "What do you want?"

He stepped forward as if to shield me.

Motonari: "You know why we're here. We have business with the demon hiding out in this temple."

Motonari: "Hurry up and take us to him. He's here, yeah?"

Ranmaru: "..........."

Ranmaru gave a nod and turned toward the temple.

(What's going on?)

Still bound to him by the shackle, I had no choice but to follow.

Eventually, Ranmaru led us to a large hall.

Several followers sat in neat rows before Kennyo, quietly listening to him speak.

Ranmaru: "Lord Kennyo, you have visitors."

Kennyo: "I see."

With a glance from Kennyo, the followers stood and left the hall in silence.

Only after the room was empty did he finally speak.

Kennyo: "I figured you would come sooner or later."

Kennyo: "Motonari Mouri. And Kicho."

(Kicho?)

That second name sounded familiar.

(That's the one Mitsuhide mentioned—the one who attacked Azuchi Castle!)

The very person who had launched a cannon attack on Azuchi Castle now stood before Kennyo.

(All of them are Nobunaga's enemies.)

(And if this Motonari guy is working with Kicho, then he's probably not part of the Oda army either.)

Realizing I was deep in enemy territory, my entire body stiffened with tension.

Just then, Kicho glanced my way.

Kicho: "…………"

(W-What?)

He stared at me with a blank expression, freezing me like a frog under a snake's gaze.

Kicho: "Have we met somewhere before?"

Mai: "Somewhere?"

(Ah—)

------------Flashback-----------

Seamstress: "Look, that guy's so hot."

Mai: "Huh?"

Kicho: "..........."

(Our eyes met.)

(There's something different about him—an aura that sets him apart from everyone else.)

(He stands out like Ranmaru, though in a totally different way.)

---------Flashback Ends--------

The memories I'd lost in a haze of tension suddenly came flooding back.

Kicho: "I thought so. Where have we met?"

Mai: "That's…"

Ranmaru: "She's from a nearby village."

(Ranmaru?)

He cut in smoothly, taking over the conversation before I could say anything.

Ranmaru: "Have you been around here before?"

Kicho: "No. Not even once."

Ranmaru: "Then, it must be a mix-up."

Motonari: "Huh? Then what's with the handcuffs?"

Motonari: "You don't exactly see people going about their day wearing stuff like that."

Ranmaru: "Well, you did say I had unique tastes, Lord Motonari. I figured maybe we were kindred spirits."

(R-Ranmaru?!)

Motonari: "Pfft. You serious?"

(That's not true at all!)

He scoffed, and my cheeks burned in embarrassment.

Kennyo: "Enough idle chatter. Let's get to the point."

The sharp voice that brought the room back to order belonged to Kennyo.

Kennyo: "Ranmaru, take the girl and leave. She's a distraction."

Ranmaru: "Yes, sir."

(I did want to hear the rest, but honestly, I was kind of glad for the interruption.)

Mai: "Hey, Ranmaru. Why did you hide who I really am?"

Ranmaru: "Those two are pretty intense."

Ranmaru: "If they found out you're a valuable hostage, things would get complicated."

Ranmaru: "And also…"

He trailed off, then gestured for me to sit without saying a word.

I did as he said, settling beside him, and he continued.

Ranmaru: "That guy you seemed to recognize—Kicho—was once part of the Oda army."

Ranmaru: "But I heard he vanished without a trace about three years ago."

(Wait.)

Mai: "So… he was one of your comrades?"

Mai: "Then why would he attack the castle? That's betrayal—"

(Ah.)

I stopped myself and looked at him.

He simply gave a crooked smile.

Ranmaru: "Yeah. Maybe he's the same as me."

Ranmaru: "He didn't just betray them—he had a reason to become their enemy."

Ranmaru: "From our side, betrayal is just what happens when you choose to follow your beliefs."

(I wonder if he has one, too—)

Something precious he's trying to protect or stay true to.

Mai: "Why are you guys trying to take Nobunaga's life?"

The thought that rose in my chest came out as a quiet question.

Ranmaru: "…………"

His beautiful face clouded with hesitation.

But then—

Ranmaru: "Would you be willing to listen to Lord Kennyo's story?"

He murmured, beginning to speak quietly.

Ranmaru: "Lord Kennyo was once the high priest of Ishiyama Hongan-ji."

Ranmaru: "He was a man respected by many—dignified, deeply faithful, and kind."

Ranmaru: "To him, Lord Nobunaga—who sought to unify the land through force—was an unforgivable enemy of the faith."

(So the conflict had started way back then.)

Knowing both Nobunaga and Kennyo, I could easily imagine why neither side was willing to back down.

Ranmaru: "Lord Kennyo tried to corner Lord Nobunaga by joining forces with other warlords and temples."

Ranmaru: "Even though he despised violence, he had no choice but to incite uprisings in order to fight back."

His eyes, which had been gazing into the distance, slowly returned to the present.

Ranmaru: "But all the warlords he had allied with were defeated, and even the Hongan-ji was destroyed."

Ranmaru: "Lord Kennyo went into hiding, waiting for the chance to take his revenge."

Ranmaru: "That revenge was meant to take place on the night we attacked Honnō-ji."

(So that means…)

Mai: "He kept hating Nobunaga even after the temple was destroyed—just because they'd been enemies from the start?"

Ranmaru: "No. It's not that simple."

He shook his head slowly, a trace of melancholy in his expression.

Ranmaru: "Deep down, Lord Kennyo genuinely wished things could've been resolved through dialogue—not violence."

Ranmaru: "That's why he agreed to meet when Lord Nobunaga proposed it."

Ranmaru: "But in the end, the talks fell through. From what I've heard, though, the two of them shared some similar ideals."

(Kennyo and Nobunaga both wanted to resolve things peacefully?)

Mai: "Then why didn't they just sign a truce?"

Ranmaru: "Because the Oda army chose to wipe us out instead."

Mai: "Wipe you out?"

The chilling words sent a shiver down my spine.

Ranmaru: "On the day of the next negotiation, Lord Nobunaga sent Kicho to us and threw down a severed arm—taken from one of our fellow followers—right in front of us."

(What?!)

Ranmaru: "Lord Kennyo lost all hope in the so-called Demon King after that. So he gathered his forces and attacked the Oda army."

Ranmaru: "The war raged on for about a year. Countless lives were lost, and as I said earlier, Hongan-ji was destroyed."

Resting his cheek on his knee, he looked away, his brows drawn in sorrow.

Ranmaru: "Everything he had cherished, protected, and held close was reduced to blood-soaked ashes."

Ranmaru: "It was like hell."

(Hell…)

His calm voice began to paint a scene that was far too horrific.

Ranmaru: "Inside the burning temple, it was so hot it felt like my skin was about to catch fire. Ash floated down like snow, and in the middle of it all, there were voices."

Ranmaru: "Women and little children were desperately chanting prayers."

Mai: "………"

I couldn't speak. It was too much.

(I don't think he's lying.)

(But I can't believe the Oda army did something so cruel.)

(I don't want to believe it.)

My chest tightened, as if the ground beneath me was giving way.

Ranmaru: "Well, I guess it's only natural to want revenge."

(Huh?)

His words felt strangely detached.

(It's like he's only speaking on Kennyo's behalf.)

Mai: "Hey, Ranmaru."

Mai: "Do you hate Nobunaga too? Do you really… want to kill him?"

Ranmaru: "Huh? Why are you asking me that?"

Mai: "Because—"

(Because after everything you told me about Kennyo, there's still one thing I don't know.)

Mai: "I want to know your real feelings."

Ranmaru: "…………"

A hint of bitterness crept into his otherwise quiet, unreadable expression.

(Just as I thought.)

Ranmaru has always been good at hiding what he really feels.

That's why, when I was taken hostage, I felt completely betrayed.

(But now I understand.)

(He's not perfect either.)

Mai: "Tell me, Ranmaru."

Mai: "Do you really want to kill Nobunaga?"

Ranmaru: "I do."

He smiled—soft and sudden, like a flower blooming.

(I knew it.)

Mai: "Liar."

Previous Part ╎ Next Part

[riteliso]

S01E11

I don't really have anything to say about this it's just another of those brief shots and she's glaring at Adora down the hall and I think it's neat

She still fuckin does not like She-ra at all

I bet I could make this whole episode's analysis about how Catra glares at Adora but y'know that's because there's something wrong with both me and the people behind the show because I bet you it'll happen at least five more times this episode, probably more like eight

I'll keep track, so far we're at 2. I don't promise to get screenshots of every time, though. Hey it might happen anyway I just don't promise.

Unlike the other runestones, it's portable :)

This does speak partially to the idea that She-ra is a protector of Etheria, not any one nation within it. She is not bound to any one place, nor are her powers, and as we learn later, nor is she as a concept.

I don't remember if it's gone over that the first one created the stone itself or just the sword? I'll keep an eye out.

"Oh she's gonna be stuck on this or a while, I can really just do whatever."

Girl we've all been there

I just like this face I like when the characters wear this expression

Also if I only ever point out Catra faces then idk I'll FEEL bad because Adora is pretty

Alright we're a little on the nose here

Also, hi.

I'd say "what if that wasn't Catra" but really what if that was anything, even when it IS Catra that's a bad move

There's no universe where twitch firing that fucking sword is acceptable in this situ--

In fact, give it here, I'm turning the safety on.

This watch through has actually been making me feel very nice. Save the Cat isn't some outlier or some return to how they were, Adora will always save Catra the moment the oppourtunity arises. Because she loves her.

I went over it in something I edited but I don't think that shows up in the full thread or whatever--

Adora saving Catra is a running theme in this show, as is Adora attempting to convince Catra to abandon the horde. Usually the two go hand in hand, and usually they can also be seen as a metaphor for being-- TOGETHER.

Catra doesn't want to be saved. She doesn't want to leave the Horde. She's very clear about that. Adora continuously pursues and rescues Catra despite her protests, and they hurt each-other with how they just-- ARE.

Catra despises being helped. But that doesn't matter, because if Catra doesn't recieve help, she still feels betrayed. She's not ready to be with Adora because her pride is way too spiky, slimy, and DISGUSTING for her to swallow.

She can't be with Adora because if she leaves to be with her and everything is okay, then it means Catra was wrong. And if it isn't okay, just like Catra fears-- then that's not really any better.

Now, is it okay for Adora to pursue Catra this way, if we add this additional meaning to it?

Fuckin-- I don't know, dude, okay

Catra is wrong and Adora knows she is. They love each-other and feel like the things keeping them apart are due to the other being WRONG.

So is it acceptable for Adora to constantly be putting Catra in situations she's uncomfortable with with the prospect of beginning a relationship, or at least CHANGING the relationship they CURRENTLY have?

In real life the answer would be an easy yes, even when the two DO love each-other.

But this is a romance, so-- no?

It's like when some grandpa says they asked the cashier out 80 times until they eventually said yes and eventually got married

Like yeah it's ridiculous and creepy kinda

But I mean it-- IS romantic. Stupid, but romantic.

And besides, if a grandma said that about another grandma I'd be like "hell yeah" this is affected by personal biases lesbians get to be mean and weird and cryptic okay THEYRE ALLOWED I DONT CARE THAT IT'S A DOUBLE STANDARD

They really do argue like lesbians too

And if you think I'm just saying things you're wrong

I can literally hear "Clearly nothing in here is listening to me" in my girlfriend's voice so effortlessly

You are SUCH A BITCH and I HATE THAT I DO WHAT YOU DO

When nobody else can see them they're a normal couple if I'm honest

Don't--

Do NOT read into my personal life based on what I post here for all intents and purposes I am playing a character I'm larping keep your distance shut up and you're stupid

Does your mom know you're gay

"So you snuck out to see me?"

I didn't realize that that's what she was implying until now

She knows this isn't a mission Catra was sent on now and so she's hoping that that's at least PART of the reason she's here

On the left we have "fuck me" eyes and on the right we have "fuck you" eyes

Were you expecting a sorry

Did you think she was gonna sneak out and APOLOGISE TO YOU??

OH MY GOD THAT'S SO FUNNY

EVERY-- EVERYBODY LOOK AT THIS GIRL

SHE'S SO FUCKING STUPID

AW, WHAT A FUCKIN MORON

Oh god

I'm not even- HA!

I can't even insult you for this the situation itself is enough of an insult on its OWN LMAO

This is an awkward thing to say when I DUNNO IF YOU NOTICED BUT YOU'LL BE WALKING THE SAME DIRECTION FOR A BIT, DUMBASS

Next time you watch she-ra pay attention to the animation here because it's fucking awful and looks like dogshit

but it's okay because it's funny and doesn't happen often in this show

At least your bright-ass sword ALMOST has a use for once

ALRIGHT SO

Here's how we're doing things, right? We're gonna go one episode at a time, and I'm gonna give my thoughts whenever they come up. This is a train of thought type beat, alright? Unlike my usual grandstanding authorial and analytical self, this re-watch is purely for the rant factor. If you don't know me, and you just happened upon this thread because you like reading she-ra rewatches, hello. I'm a writer from Canada who found she-ra in 2025 and is currently on her sixth watch through. From that, hopefully you can discern that I like this show, even if I'm likely gonna criticize parts of it. We good to go? Good. We start with S01 E01.

RIGHT, THE SWORD PART 1! A zoom in, with an angelic singing being drowned out by digital bloopy fright zone vibes, and then Adora being a fuckin dweeb as her leitmotif plays in a decidedly crystiline synth-y tone.

Now, what do we learn from this? This, aside from one gripe I'll have more to speak on later, is an excellent introduction. With the music alone we're essentially taken from the beauty of the planet, the overwhelming dread of the fright zone, and then into a hopeful tune that isn't FREE from these sort of digital themes in the music, but is very defined and separate FROM them.

This isn't gonna be one of those things where I praise literally every single fuckin thing so keep your panties on, I'm not gonna full-on overanalyzing avatar this shit, but the most important parts of a story are the beginning and the ending.

Now, when I say that, I am speaking pragmatically. Every part of every story is important-- but when it comes to what people remember, what they love, what they never shut up about-- it's the start and the end. You need to nail the take-off and the landing, people will forget the turbulence from the rest of the trip.

Now, what does THIS bitch's intro tell us about her? Well, a lot, honestly. Most of what we know about Adora at this point is she plays by the rules, but she is a notably goofy person. She's goofy, but she's unwilling to goof-OFF too much.

And while we get a taste of the rivalry they have instantly, with "That's low, even for you." "You know nothing's too low for me~"

We instantly see that that is not the CORE of their relationship.

I'd like to praise the voice direction in this show for the first of many times here. The voice actors do amazing work in this, and the direction can be felt throughout.

"Come on, you look stupid hanging there" can obviously be a seen as a strange first line to show the warmth these two share, but the inflection from Catra's voice actor, AJ Mikalcha, makes it read as downright sweet.

Also don't get used to me using names of the crew besides ND Stevenson because I'm so awful with names I was still calling Catra Katara half the time on my second re-watch and I was like 90% of the way to realizing I kinned her at that point

Also don't make fun of me for kinning Catra there's no RESPONSE to people making fun of you for kinning Catra THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU SEEM MORE LIKE FUCKING CATRA OKAY

Anyway, the following scene makes it clear that this is not a one-way dynamic. The two banter, and it's clear Adora knows how to get under Catra's skin and annoy her as well. This is notable in a few places MUCH further on, but it is a difference worth highlighting NOW.

Once Adora leaves, Catra's primary goal is still to get under her skin. She's angry about it, she's mean about it, but she's still just doing what she's always done. The relationship between the two doesn't actually change as much as the context does. I'd say the relationship itself doesn't change much until the final season, at a scene I'm sure I'll have a lot to say about.

On the flip-side, Adora's goal when it comes to Catra is simply to fight her off. But that's not all there is. At points, it's clear that Adora holds some sort of REVERENCE for Catra, and while Catra is very capable of very mean things, don't get me wrong, Adora sees Catra as more of a threat than she realistically is.

At a few moments I'll point out she also relishes in getting under Catra's skin, but admittedly those are few and far between.

People have gone over this introduction billions of times, so I won't BORE you to death with it, but Shadow weaver's introduction does hint at a lot of what we'll learn later. I think it's very notable that while Shadow weaver brings a dark gloom that encompasses both our leads, her vile tendrils only dare to touch Catra. We learn the specifics of the dynamic these three have later, but it is a very unique and terrible situation to be the least favourite of an abusive guardian. Especially if you are repeatedly reminded of that fact.

I'm not gonna go over all the body language shit I've seen other text posts about it there's plenty of them a lot of focus in this show goes into tiny details where characters are constantly reacting to the world around them, and very rarely do we get lame stretches where anyone's face is just frozen and unflinching while they listen to someone else.

with all due respect to the setting at this point in time the bright moon rebellion is so pathetically anemic it's the two teens, some movie night lesbians, an immortal princess queen, and a bunch of fucking trees.

And you'd think the one carrying the team would be THE IMMORTAL PRINCESS QUEEN, BUT NO, ITS THE FUCKING TREES DOING ALL THE GOD DAMNED WORK

This introduction is fine. I don't particularly like it, nor have any strong feelings about it. It establishes the relationship between glimmer and her mother, but besides that it doesn't honestly do much. And don't come at me with "Uh, all it needs to do is establish that relationship?" Yeah, no shit, but we just had a better introduction to our other lead characters. And yes, those are the MAIN leads, the sort of heart of the show, but that doesn't mean that the other characters are unimportant. Glimmer's development later on is truly interesting, and Bow becomes a massively inspiring character. Fun jokey times are fine or whatever to show that they're immature and don't know the first thing about war, in contrast to our full-blown child soldiers raised from birth in the fright zone, but we really don't learn anything particularly INTERESTING about our best friend squad compadres in their intro, nor do we really see any of it until episode 2, to be frank.

This is something we don't actually see much of-- Catra has this ideal of being a conqueror, but it's very clear that she doesn't want that. Her threats are vapid and aimless-- She can enjoy some chaos, sure, but a shit-stirrer isn't gonna use that feces to build brick shithouses that they never intend to fall.

I think this should have been elaborated on more, personally. Catra is comically terrible with authority, and her plan, as stated later, is to wait it out until her and Adora are the ones calling the shots. But we don't really see what she thinks conquering even looks like, and it's not clear whether that's that she hasn't even imagined it and just likes evil words, or if she genuinely wants to rule with Adora as her Queen.

I gravitate towards the first, but that's partially because I wake up and post shit like "I want to destroy the world and rule its dust" and then forget I posted it when someone likes it 5 minutes later. If she do, in fact, as studies point toward, "be just like me fr," then I fully understand. If not, then I'd like to understand.

aw :(

Fuckin dweeb pulling the "my mom doesn't want me hanging out with you anymore" card

HA! Ah, what a bitch. Anyway, she's lashing out, but it's also quite tragic. A lot of people seem to think Adora IS, in some way, a people pleaser, but in reality she just has such an ingrained and violent sense of justice that she wants to right every wrong she has ever and will ever come across. She believes her validity is tied to what she can provide to the world, and she's got a natural sense of charisma, so it's natural for someone who refuses to blend in and naturally tends to put people off like Catra to have this view of her.

In reality, Adora is just-- a good person. And people LIKE good people. She's not a good person with an asterisk-- a good person with terms and conditions-- someone who falls into the definition of a good person while feeling and being treated like something else. Catra is the "a tomato is a fruit" of good people. Adora is just, like, a 1 dollar costco hotdog of a woman. An inarguable good treading water on this earth, no matter how hard it tries to pull her under.

Imagine falling for a brat with mad hops, like a fucking 50 foot vertical, you say you're too tired to play their favourite board game and they go hang out on your neighbour's roof, couldn't be me. Get fucked I guess

Yeah this is sad. Empathy is very much a learned skill, and people who don't learn empathy don't GET happy FOR people. Catra's not a complete person yet. She's not ready to be. That doesn't happen for a really long time, during an exceptionally long manic spiral. We'll get there, calm down, don't think about how far away that is and how much I've already yammered on.

Anyway, if you find yourself getting jealous or annoyed instead of getting happy for people, consider empathy isn't what you thought it was, and that you might still need to work on yourself.

fucking porno framing. Immensely sexual image, really. These bitches violently gay I suppose, I think I'm picking up on that during this sixth re-watch.

Buddy you got no idea how many problems those two already have you literally lose your little tiara at some point I think it ends up in the middle of a tree in space or something it's kinda unclear

Adora elbows her square in the nose during this so to everyone accusing Catra of physical abuse I just want it to be clear that Adora started it :/

Actually I'd like to retract that joke immediately because I know how people get about these two

My feelings are that they are literally child soldiers who were likely raised sparring each-other.

I was raised sparring other children and I ended up fine! Not for war, for Karate. And I didn't end up fine. And neither did they. Anyway, my point isn't even specifically that because this is sci-fi fantasy it's ridiculous to hold real life standards to it, it's more-so that because it's sci-fi fantasy there's extenuating circumstances that are going to affect how these two characters treat each-other. I'll go into hotter takes later, I'm sure, and get people to send me plenty of death-threats, but I'm gonna go into the nuances of exactly what forms Catra's abuse takes, and how it differs given by the separate circumstances we're shown the two in throughout the show.

my girl when I'm tryna live my best life playing as blue toad in mario 3d world

also holy shit we're only like halfway through this I am an AGONIZING yapper jesus fuck

Okay, what to say about lighthope-- well, their first words are "balance must be restored," far before they say Adora's name, so it somewhat lays out their secret priorities for us there. Besides that, I dunno, they got circuits on them? I don't have particularly strong feelings about lighthope, nor their introduction. I think they serve the setting and are written well, I just subjectively am not a sucker for the way they be. Their friendship with Mara is cute tho

I was gonna point out this is cute and how often I do this exact brat tactic but instead we data moshin, nothin wrong with a little data moshin, I'm down

This is the only reason she even wears a ponytail I'd stake my fuckin life on it

Once she leaves the fright zone that thing's fucking vestigial like a tailbone or having "any pronouns" in your bio when it's pretty clear you're very much a "she/they" type of bitch by now

glimmer why don't your windows have glass

or alternatively

how the fuck do you open and close that window

you can absolutely fucking hear her from this distance what on earth are you trying to pull

you a pillow princess tho how many of those arrows are just hitatchi magic wands attatched to a stick with duct-tape after the series ends do you think

The fuck you mean BOTTOM drawer we lookin at left and right here

or is this similar to my pillow princess comment and she's just addressing him and giving him an order

"Bottom; drawer."

It's established later on that he's a tech wiz but at this point in time they don't really give us much to lead us to the fact that he made that fucking thing

she's a freak

yes it's very sweet that she sleeps this way but I don't think it's some bdsm powerplay thing or anything like that, which would honestly be more tolerable, I think she's just like that

like how the way I'd sit in high school was to get two chairs and face them toward each-other then sit cross-legged across both

even if there weren't enough chairs to go around

people would sit on the FLOOR because I wanted to sit criss-cross-applesauce across two chairs, they wouldn't even ask for one of my chairs

also since I was sitting, again, cross-legged, it would have made more sense for ME to sit on the floor

I mean I think I got asked ONCE for one of the chairs and I just said "fine" but besides that people just let me sit on my fuckin throne

She really is kinda dumb, though. Like I ain't complaining, it's a character trait, but like obviously even if just you get in trouble Catra's gonna get blamed, you've seen it like at least once a month for your whole entire life

Mind you, can't really have Catra for the next part, because Catra's reaction to Bow and Glimmer wouldn't be "just let me have the sword" it'd be murder

oh wow we hit the image limit looks like we're doing TWO SEPARATE POSTS FOR THE VERY FIRST EPISODE YEE-HAW!!!!! THIS IS GOING TO TAKE ME FUCKING FOREVER

[cementmixture]

there's . another twenty one pilots album?

[jewishcissiekj]

still on the Star Wars books Speedrun and finished Jedi Apprentice 1 so I'll go eat now and start Phasma soon and finish my 15-book reading list in a month or less

[ratherchili]

𖹭 cw: fluff, suggestive, mdni

You really threw a wrench in mean bf sukuna's plans when you totally forgot about Valentine's day. You told him from the start that you didn't care about stuff like that, but he thought you were just playing the Cool Girl™. Realistically, all girls care about that shit. It's ingrained in their fluffy, pink, little brains, right? You're going to be mad as hell when he tricks you into believing he's completely ignored your first Valentine's day together.

That works just fine for mean bf sukuna, who just so happens to think you're super hot when you're mad. So, he ignores you all day while he shops. He smirks to himself as he thinks about how you must be scowling at your phone screen, waiting for a text that never comes. He outright laughs when he imagines the shock on your face when you see what he has planned for you. Maybe you'll do that thing where you bang your fists on his chest while he pulls your body against his. Maybe your eyes will be shiny with tears when you look up at him and say, "I thought you forgot!"

Turns out he's the one scowling at the screen when the whole day passes without a peep from you until you text him "picking me up?" Just before your shift ends.

"Yeah, I guess," he grumbles as he types it out. What kind of passive aggressive, feminine sorcery is this anyway?

His scowl only deepens as he listens to you chatter on about your busy day the whole ride home. You don't seem angry at all. In fact, you plop down next to him on the couch, as usual, practically sitting on top of him as you giggle at the TV and dig into your dinner. You don't even notice that he hasn't touched his own food. He's actually getting pissed in a serious way. And he looks it, even more so than usual, you notice. You fucking finally notice. "What's your problem?" You ask around a mouthful of your favorite takeout.

"Tch, nothing," he says, crossing his arms and looking away. Is he... is he really pouting?

"If you say so," you shrug. You know better than to press him too much, unless you want him angrier and even less prone to discussion. "I'm gonna get changed," you say as you stand to head towards the bedroom.

"No!" He says, just a little too loud.

"Why not?" You ask narrowing your eyes at him over your shoulder.

He would have physically stopped you, but you're a little too small and a little too quick not to slip through his grasping fingers.

"What's all this?" You ask, standing in your bedroom doorway staring at the array of pink and red bags, flowers, your favorite candies and snacks.

mean bf sukuna winces at the sight of the veritable mountain of gifts he had spent the day heaping on the linens. He may have gotten a little carried away, but he kept thinking of things. That bag you pointed out at the mall. And the necklace. And the sunglasses. Then he remembered you said you wanted to go to that concert, so he got tucked the tickets into your card. Then he thought you'd want to wear those shoes you pointed out.

"Oh, my god," you say in a small voice. "It's Valentine's day. I totally forgot."

You turn to him, but the apology that was on your lips dies in a fit of laughter when you see his face is as red as the gift wrap.

"You'll pay for that, brat," he growls as he tosses you right on top of the pile, fully intent on getting his money's worth out of you.

[holeforzenin]

STEP BRO KATSUKI HELPING YOU <333

✦ Tw - Stepcest, dubcon, dumbification, anal play, heavy degradation and Bakugou is really really mean cause he's Bakugou duh, daddy kink, some bad grammar bc it's not proofread.

Word count - 2350

"Katsuki Katsuki! Holy fuck are you deaf or something?! I'm stuck!" you yelled at the top of your lungs as you tried your very best to wiggle yourself out from the washing machine opening. You can't even remember how you got yourself into this fucking mess, you were just trying to look and see if there were any more clothing pieces left behind because you've been noticing a few of your panties have gone missing the past few days and it kept getting worse and worse to the point where you barely have any left to wear, you assumed it's because you accidentally kept leaving them in the washing machine and now somehow you're fucking stuck.

Heavy substantial footsteps were heard loudly outside the room before the wooden door went flying open, causing the doorknob to hit against the wall, causing a loud bang!, "The fuck do you want, can't you see I'm tryna fucking play?", the annoyed blond growled at you.

"Shut up and get me the fuck out!", You yelled annoyed, while kicking your legs back to get his attention.

"Woah some mess you got yourself into, sweetheart" he smirks slyly while analyzing the situation, staring down at your pretty ass poking out of the washing machine, barely even covered by those tight slutty shorts you always wore around the house that never failed to make his cock rock hard.

"Oh please, just shut up and get me out already", you kicked your feet back hoping that he was behind you so it would hit him. "I don't think that's how you speak to someone you're trying to get help from, princess".

You rolled your eyes at the annoying pet names he always calls you every fucking time but you've grown used to it by now but the constant teasing was so fucking annoying. "Listen are you going to help me or not?".

"That depends princess, are you gonna beg me to or not?" you wanted to punch him in the face so fucking badly, imagining the shit-eating grin he definitely has plastered on his face right now. "You're so fucking annoying! No way go to hell!" you yelled.

"Oh yeah? Is that so"

He chuckled as he bent down behind you, eyes fixated on the way the thin material hugged your ass cheeks so tightly and delicious. you're so vulnerable in this position, he could keep you there and pound your slutty little holes for hours and hours if he wants to—which is probably what he's gonna do anyways.

He pressed the pad of his thumb against your damped crotch, rubbing it slowly back and forth as he watched the way your body jolted unexpectedly.

"Wha-what are you doing! You sick fuck??" you screamed as you tried to wiggle your ass away from his hold. "Oh, come on princess, let's have some fun yeah? You might even like it" he teases before tugging down your tiny shorts, just to be greeted with your glistening dripping cunt. A string of your slick connects to the crotch of the shorts before snapping away as he pulls it down to your knee. He groaned as his eyes took in the delicious sight in front of him. "No panties? And you're fucking dripping, you probably planned this out and did this purposely just so I can come and see you like this, dirty fucking slut". he lands a harsh slap on your right ass cheek as you closed your eyes in embarrassment when you realized you're basically fucking exposed to him.

"Go to fucking hell you perv" You snapped back at him, "Oh yeah? I'm the perv?, I'm not the one fucking soaked and dripping onto the floor sweetheart". He laughs mockingly.

His dick was painfully hard and eager, straining to be released from his sweatpants, what can a man do? It's not his fault his dumb little stepsister always runs around the house with those tight little booty shorts, ass almost fully exposed, basically begging to be pounded and now he has his chance so why not take it?

He pulls his sweatpants and underwear down, thick perfectly curved dick slaps against his abdomen as pre cum oozes out of the angry red tip. he grips his fist around it before pumping himself a few times while circling your clit with his thumb, "Pretty little cunt you got here princess, been hiding this from me this whole time?"

"S-stop it Katsuki, this is wrong! You're my stepbrother, we can't do this!" you whined, it's so fucking wrong and fucked up and you sure as hell knew that, you just can't help but feel your needy cunt throbbing and yearning for more, it's only natural right?

Before you could even process anything else you felt his angry tip lining up at your entrance, his thick cock head bullying and prying it's way into your weeping tight hole before he shoves it all the way in unexpectedly, knocking the wind out of you as you hissed at the sudden pain.

"Hahh fuckk- Katsuki slow down!" you moaned as he starts thrusting his hard cock in and out of you like it was his mission to bruise and mark up your silky walls with his tip, strong hands gripping onto your waist as he stretches out your poor cunt with his fat girth, splitting that pretty little cunny in half as it drips all over him. "Holy fuckk you're so fucking tight hah- shitt", he hisses as your pussy clenches around him snugly. tightest cunt he ever fucked for sure.

He started pounding you harder, gripping the oversized T-shirt you wore as he rammed himself in the tight warm space between your thighs.

"Stupid little slut, is this what you need to shut that annoying little mouth of yours, my dick pounding this little pussy?" he took a mental note to give you exactly what you wanted when you're acting up and being a little bitchy brat to him. "Sh-ut up katsu-" shit you couldn't even form proper words to even say his fucking name. "You're the fucking worse fuh-ckk" you moaned out of pleasure. You can't even lie his cock was the best you've ever had and it's only been minutes since he started fucking you so that surely says a lot, his tip was grazing against the right spots in your hole, it's like his dick knew all the parts in cunt that would make your eyes roll to the back of your head and he was stretching your stuffy cunt with his cock soo good, it turnt you into a moaning mess.

"Oh yeah I know my cock is good you little slut, Gonna fuck you so stupid with it, you won't ever think about another guy's dick other than your stepbrother's" he smirks as he lands a hard slap on your ripped ass, watching the way the thick flesh jiggles against him, bouncing back against his pelvis as he drills himself so fucking deep inside of you. You're his little glory hole, he can stuff you full and deep of his seed and use your tight pussy for hours and fuck you so dumb that you can't even think for the rest of the week if he wants to.

He circles his thumb over your neglected butthole, the puckered hole fluttering against the pad of his thumb as he notices the way your moans got sweeter and louder at the gesture. He won't be surprised if you're a slut for anal he snooped through your room a shit ton of times looking for your dirty cum-stained panties he uses to jerk off to, to know that you have several jeweled anal plugs hidden away in your drawer.

"Mmm want me to put it in baby?" he teases, adoring the way the pink ring flutters on his thumb, soo eager and hungry to be stuffed and played with, "Ye-yes pleasee!" you hiccupped, purposely winking your hole for him desperately as a form of inviting him. "Heh, how cute" he mumbled before gathering your slick from your clit to rub it on the tiny rim before slowly sinking it in little by little. He groaned as he felt your cunt throbbing around his cock as your hungry asshole swallows his thumb into the hilt.

Heavy balls slapping against your clit as your eyes roll back to the back of your head as if you were possessed or something- or maybe you were, possessed by his fucking cock hitting your favorite spots in your hole that had you seeing stars. His cock was so fucking good, mushroom tip kissing your cervix with every single one of his mean thrusts. "Fuck wish I could play with those pretty tits" he groans, head falling back as he moans, your cunt felt like fucking heaven, so warm and tight just for him.

"Kat-Katsuki m' so close" you moaned as you felt the familiar feeling in your stomach building up, "Yeah? That fast? My cock is that good huh?".

You let out a porn star-worthy moan when you felt his thick thumb sliding in and out of your tight bullied walls, matching the rough brutal pace of the pounding he was giving your poor pussy. He lifts up one of his legs and plants his feet flat on the floor so he can drill deeper into your cunt, "Fuckk yes daddy- don't stop fuck! Please don't stop" you cried out as you felt yourself approaching your release.

He chuckled mockingly, "Daddy huh? You're such a fucking dirty whore ya know that?" he slapped your ass so fucking hard that his handprint was definitely branded on your ass cheek, "Didn't know my dear little stepsis was such a cock-hungry slut, what'd ya think mom would say if she found out her innocent daughter was milking her stepbrother's cock and calling him daddy hm? Always knew you were a whore" he smirks as you whimpered and dripped to his mean words.

He pulled his thumb out of your butthole slowly and then groaned when he saw the delicious little gape he created. He brought his thumb up to his mouth before sucking it, gathering spit onto the finger then circling it around the gaped hole.

"Fuckk would you look at that, she's all prepped and ready for my cock, maybe after I'm done stuffing your cunt, I'll fill this one up too, bet you'll fucking like that", you felt his cock throbbing like crazy in your pussy as he imagined stuffing both of holes with his bitter cum and having you all plugged up n pretty with his seed deep in your asshole and the only thing keeping it in is the princess plug you have hidden away in your drawer— buried deep inside your ass.

You almost screamed when you felt him stabbing his cock into your cunt even harder, strong hands gripping your waist tightly to keep you still as he rams his hips against yours. The friction of his heavy balls slapping your clit made it feel even better as your cunt clenches around his cock, threatening to milk his balls into your pussy. You're not surprised that Bakugou was this good at fucking, after all, he was really fucking sexy and built, of course he had a lot of experience. You cried out when you felt his fingers rubbing harsh harsh circles on your clit, "Come on slut, need ya to cum on my cock, don't make me repeat myself" he grunts, head falling back when he feels your cunny squeezing around his cock soo much fucking tighter. You closed your eyes as you felt your orgasm approaching. His thrust was so fucking brutal, it's like he has some fucking personal problem and is taking it out on your poor cunt.

Before you could process anything else, you were gushing all over his pretty cock, warm liquid squirting all over his abs and pelvis and he continues pounding you through it, he lets out a slurpy moan while laughing, "Fuckk yeah that's it baby that's it, Gooddd girl" he thrusts got sloppier and sloppier when he felt his balls tightening. He didn't expect you to fucking squirt and make a mess all over him so it drove him fucking crazy.

You felt his cock twisting against your tight walls, assuming he was about to cum. Fuck, you felt so lifeless. The only thing holding you up was Katsuki's strong grip on your waist and the washing machine because you can't even think right now, your mind fully fucking clouded with his cock bullying your poor insides, splitting your sweet cunny apart. Fuck he's so mean, you shivered when you felt his fingers digging deep into your waist.

"Fuck m'gonna cum, gonna stuff this slutty cunt so full of my seed, it'll come right out your mouth bitch" he hisses before emptying his balls in your pussy, thick ropes of cum filling up your cumdump of a hole as you cried out when you felt his angry tip pushing the cum further and further into your cunny, making sure to stuff you full and not let any of it leak out or you'd have to lick it up.

He chuckles darkly when he hears you're out of breath whimpers. "Is this what you needed? A good little filling to shut that pretty mouth of yours? Because if it's dick you need to function properly you know where to find me baby" he chuckles, slowly pulling out his still-hard cock, being sooo careful that none of the cum drips out. He lines his tip up at the entrance of your butthole, smearing the cum onto the hole as it winks at him.

"Ready for the other filling?"

[sporkspud]

got some recognition lately in the form of I Saw A Post Which Referenced so Probably Some of Youse Did Too, so

do you enjoy the anti-establishment and brutally -mentally-ill bent of (some) modern (billed as, may be actually) indie music, but find it's too breathy for your taste, and/or lacking in a drumline? consider: king crimson

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

dbf!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

cr: divider by @kodaswrld / gif @tomshiddles

[wileys-russo]

the good partner test II l.williamson

the good partner test II l.williamson

"but how do i know if they're worth the hassle? dating sucks!" steph groaned impatiently, swearing as her head thumped against the wall where she'd thrown it back.

"oo someone get steffy a helmet!" kyra mocked, sprinting out of the change rooms at the evil look sent to her by your fellow matildas teammate.

"well first of all you make sure they're not like kyra." beth chimed in with a snicker as she laced up her boots. "hey i think someone with energy could be good for her." lia defended as steph simply sighed, rubbing the back of her head with a wince.

"she needs a boyfriend not a man child!" "and who said energy means a man child?" "have you met kyra?" "she is not dating kyra!" "she needs someone calm, someone reliable." "you can be reliable and fun! she needs someone fun."

"i think she needs the two of you to stop talking about her and her love life like she isn't right here listening." you chimed in over the top of them, both girls falling silent as steph chuckled and squeezed your knee in appreciation.

"how many dates have you been on with this new guy now?" you asked curiously as steph paused to think. "mm three? but theres also bakery man and finance bro." steph retorted, the way she'd nicknamed her current escapades making you grin.

"can't forget tesco twat." beth added on as steph grimaced. "he is not on the roster, we called him that for a reason." the older girl rolled her eyes as you laughed again. "the roster? god you need to stop hanging out with kyra." you shook your head as the brunette shoved you playfully.

"it can't be considered hanging out if she invites herself over to see calvin and eat my food!" "stephanie i told you to change your locks, she had a key made for mine and leahs place too, the little freeloader."

"but, if you're not sure which of these guys to pursue seriously, and if thats something you're ready for. theres always the good partner test!" you shrugged as all three girls gave you a perplexed look.

"what? none of you have ever heard of that?" "no?"

"how do you think i have this?" you grinned holding up your hand, the rock of an engagement ring shining prettily on your finger, quickly lowering your hand with a wince at the glare sent your way by lia.

"sorry stephy." you apologized sheepishly, having been there for her the very day she'd handed back her own engagement ring to her now ex fiancé. "its fine! its been a few months now, and i know i'm better off." the brunette nodded to herself as the three of you quickly agreed.

"so, good partner tests?" "yes! they're just simple little things you can use on someone to see if they're a good fit for you or not. you know like ask them to peel an orange for you, see if they hold a door open for you? or you can present them with a problem where you know what the solution should be, and see if they come to that conclusion on their own." you explained.

"is that like an australian thing? because i have never heard of it." beth frowned as lia nodded along in agreeance making your eyes roll. "no! but it does work. i tested leah after we'd been on a few dates, she passed with flying colours and look at us now!" you held up your ring again as lia winced on your behalf at the gesture.

"you've been doing it for that long?" steph asked in disbelief as you nodded seriously. "since like, high school? dodged a few bullets here and there with it, trust me." you promised, the others looking on skeptically.

"you remember blake?" you questioned steph who shook her head as you sighed. "rat teeth?" you tried again quietly as immediately she perked up. "oh her! from when you played at victory? yeah yeah." the girl waved you to continue.

"well she failed the partner test, guess where she is now?" "with more teeth missing?" "ha ha. no, she's serving 5-10 for stealing money from her boss! bullet? dodged."

"i distinctly remember tell you to break up with her anyway?" "besides the point! if she hadn't failed, i could still be with her." you shrugged, all three girls still clearly unsure of your method.

"you don't believe me? fine! how about i test leah again and you'll see how it works. then you can try it on some of your roster?" you offered up, sarcasm dripping in the last word as steph pinched you.

"so which test is first?"

"lee!" you called across the change rooms, your fiancé lost in her own world as she glanced off into the distance clearly disassociating. "leah!" you tried again, frida glancing up and shaking her lightly as you shot her a smile and the defender raised an eyebrow in your direction.

"i forgot my socks, can i borrow your spares please?" you questioned, a lie of course but you had a point to prove. "my spares are my spares, what if i need them?" the girl retorted back and you were a little caught off guard by the unexpected response.

"but, you don't need them?" "well not yet, but if i did and i'd given them to you, i wouldn't have them. would i?" "so i can't use them?" you scoffed, the taller girl standing with a shrug and rolling out a kink in her neck.

"should pack your own spares babe, like i've been telling you to." and with a teasing honk of your nose she was striding off across the room and leaving you with your mouth wide open in shock.

"well, do we call that strike one?" beth snickered as you looked up at her with a glare, reaching out to smack her as she darted out of the way.

"here." you looked up at a tap on your shoulder, a kind smile and a pair of socks held out your way. "thanks less." you accepted them gratefully despite not needing them, not wanting to explain leahs failure to another person.

"theres more tests! you'll see they work." you huffed grumpily at the amused looks on steph and lias faces, hurrying to get ready as to not make yourself late.

~

"right. watch this!" you tugged on stephs training bib to get her attention, a break called mid session as everyone headed over to get a drink and stretch.

arriving beside your fiancé you held your hand out expectantly for the water bottle in hers, leah giving you an odd look. "what?" the blonde questioned bluntly once she'd swallowed the water in her mouth. "i'm thirsty." you reached for her bottle as she quickly took a step back.

"so get some water? its right there." her foot pointed toward the other bottles as you frowned. "babe just give me a drink." you tried for her bottle again as she held it out of reach.

"no! get your own, muppet." her spare hand pushed at your forehead as she turned away from you to talk to stina, once more leaving you stunned at the unexpected reaction as steph whistled with a pitiful smile.

huffing you tapped on the blondes shoulder who turned around, raising an eyebrow. "yes?" "can you get me a water please?" you asked with a hopeful smile, your fiancé staring at you silently for a moment. "love are you concussed?" she questioned with furrowed eyebrows, a hand pressed against your head as you pushed it off.

"no! i'm thirsty." you again tried for her bottle as she stepped back and moved it. "well as i said, theres water right there. so drink some!" leah gulped another mouthful before tossing her bottle down on the used pile and jogging off back to the pitch.

"that was painful." beths arm slung over your shoulder with a whistle and a shake of her head. "get off! theres more tests, its just...an accident." you tried to excuse your fiances thus far horrible scores as beth held her hands up defensively.

once more you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning as yet again alessia stood there with a new bottle of water offered to you. "thanks less." you sighed with a smile, accepting it gratefully and falling into conversation with the striker until the whistle blew for training to recommence.

~

"look! this is an easy one." you interrupted steph mid sentence as the pair of you filed back toward the doors, most of the team already inside and very hungrily headed to the cafeteria for lunch.

hurrying ahead a little you waited by the now closed door, leah trudging toward you deep in conversation with one of the physios, sure enough pulling it open but you quickly ran right back into it as she pulled it closed after her.

"shit are you alright?" steph asked with wide eyes as you clutched your throbbing nose, though it was your pride which felt most wounded as steph hurried to pull the door open for the two of you, assuring her you were fine as you both headed for lunch.

by the time you'd collected your tray of food your hands were full and so were most of the tables, you and steph headed for your usual spots where sure enough it seemed as though your fiancé had saved you one next to her.

steph took a seat beside lia who pulled her chair out for her given both of you were laden down with your trays, however when you arrived expecting leah to do the same, she was too busy talking vic's ear off across the other table to even notice you arrived.

you cleared your throat, just loud enough for her to hear though it did nothing to deter her as she glanced up to flash you a smile before turning right back to continue almost yelling across the room in conversation.

of course someone else helped you out, alessia leaning over to push your chair out best she could from the awkward angle as you sat down, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment at the look of glee on beths face and the obvious pity on steph and lias.

still you were determined to continue, but now much more so for your own research than stephs.

which is why a short while later when leah was finally present enough to kiss your cheek hello, you nudged her and engaged in the next test, something she'd done a hundred times over and surely couldn't fail.

"baby can you peel this for me please?" you held out an orange toward the defender who frowned. "you're nearly twenty seven years old and you can't peel your own orange?" leah snickered, the usually playful comment doing nothing to amuse you.

"i got my nails done yesterday lee, can you just do it for me? please?" you remained composed, pushing it a little more toward her. "wouldn't the nails help you peel it more effectively?" she questioned as you caught beths eye who mouthed 'strike three' and made an out gesture with her hands before lia shoved them back down.

"oh forget about it." you huffed, placing it back down on your tray as leah shrugged, picking up her final piece of toast and turning to talk to kim who was sat on her other side.

"give it here." alessia chuckled, snatching your orange and starting to peel it, ignoring your protests you could do it with a wave of her hand and within seconds it was placed back down, the younger girl even getting up to dispose of the peels as she took her empty tray and headed off.

the final nail in the coffin was when leah stood to take her tray back and you held up yours, this time out of instinct and not even intended as a test.

"what your arms broken?" the blonde snickered, taking off and leaving your tray in your hands as you watched on, speechless and now defeated to say the least.

"do they have a strike five in baseball? or six? maybe even seven?" beth pondered as you slumped down into your seat. "she failed. every. single. test." you stared blankly at the table, head swimming with a pool of insecurity.

"hey but they're not real tests! she loves you more than anything, you know that." steph quickly moved to sit beside you, arm draped supportively over your shoulder.

"yeah if those tests were real all they showed us was you should be dating lessi, not leah." beth snickered, whining as lia pinched her harshly and mumbled something about being supportive.

"oi cheer up! look at that rock on your finger, would you have that if leah wasn't a good partner? would you have put up with her all these years if she wasn't? through the dirty dishes, the unfolded laundry, the lack of any culinary skills whatsoever, the-" again both lia and steph winced as beth started strong but very quickly began to fly downhill.

"i think i have to break up with her." you decided with a nod, pushing your chair back and grabbing your tray. "i-you what!" steph scrambled to follow after you as you only nodded and repeated the words.

"you're joking right? tell me this is a joke?" steph questioned as you shrugged, head still ablaze with disbelief at how poorly your own fiancé had done.

as you made your way to the media room for the final part of the day to study this weekends opponents, it seemed even steph was determined to give leah some credit as the two of you took your seats.

despite having left before you the blonde arrived after you, chattering away to lotte as you were too lost in your own bleak world to even pay her any attention.

"leah! do you wanna sit here? with your fiancé? i can move!" steph intervened, standing and offering her chair to the english woman who gave her an odd look. "nah you're fine steph, i see enough of her home." and with a chuckle off she went, taking now stephs final hopes along with her.

"jesus mate maybe you should break up with her." the older girl whispered causing a smile to tug at your lips as you knocked your knee into hers, renée calling for everyone's attention as the last of the chatter faded out and the lights dimmed.

if leah clocked anything was wrong between the two of you on the stoically silent drive home, she made no move to show it as she simply turned the radio up louder and sang along, barely glancing at you despite the simmering anger which was starting to radiate off of you with each road closer to home.

"babe should we get takeout for din-" "i want a divorce leah."

with those words you unbuckled yourself, grabbing your bag from the back and storming off inside, leaving the girl in the car behind you with her mouth hung wide open and your voice echoing in her ears.

coming to her senses at the slam of the front door she scrambled after you, leaving her bag behind and not even locking the car as you heard her fly inside and frantic footsteps pound against the floor as she called out for you.

"what the fuck do you mean you want a divorce? we're not even married yet!" leah came hurtling into the bedroom a hundred mile an hour, finding you sat on the bed unlacing your trainers.

"right well i want to break off the engagement then. get out! dickhead." you hurled a shoe at her which she barely ducked, flopping down into bed and rolling over to show her your back.

"excuse me would you mind telling me whats happened between us having sex in that bed this morning to you now slumped over in it wanting a divorce or an annulment whatever the fuck its called!" leah spat, crossing her arms over her chest and you could feel her eyes bore into you.

"you happened! you failed every single test today and do you know how embarrassing that is? we were engaged leah!" you sat up to huff at her with an evil look before flopping down with your back to her again.

"um last time i checked prior to you losing your actual fucking mind we are engaged! not were, are!" you felt the bed dip as she leaned over you and grabbed your hand, hold it up beside hers so both of your rings were visible.

"fine!" you sat up again, pushing away from her and stalking toward the front door. "what are you doing?" leah groaned dragging her hands down her face. "i'm taking off your engagement ring and its going in the dirt!" you announced, tugging it off your finger and holding it up with a sarcastic smile.

"oh no you're not!" you yelped as hands grabbed at you, pulling you away from the bedroom door as leahs leg shot out to kick it closed and she dragged you back to the bed.

"what. is. wrong. with. you?" the blonde grunted as the two of you wrestled on the mattress, you trying to get away and her trying to wrap you in some sort of death grip so you couldn't.

"let me go!" "no!" "you're an asshole!" "and you're crazy!" "get off me leah! right now!" you ordered, trying to wriggle down the bed before she moved to sit her full bodyweight on top of you, effectively pinning your flailing limbs beneath her knees.

"not until you tell me what the hells going on and why you're acting like this!" the blonde demanded with a glare as suddenly everything building up hit its tipping point and you went limp beneath her.

"why wouldn't you peel an orange for me leah! or share your water! or your socks! or open a door for me! or take my tray! you're supposed to be my fiancé!" you shouted up at her, voice cracking as leah looked down in bewilderment and you went limp beneath her.

"thats what this is about?" leah questioned as you groaned loudly, tugging your hands free to cover your face. "yes leah!"

"tests i failed...those were all tests? to what? see if i'm marriage material?" the english woman moved off of you as you both sat up in bed, a deep sigh leaving you as shook your head.

"steph is dating a bunch of guys and wasn't sure how to tell if any of them are worth the effort. so i was telling her an easy way to find out is a good partner test. like asking someone to peel an orange, or seeing if they open a door for you, or share socks, or their stupid fucking water bottle!" you smacked your fiances arm several times before she caught your hands in hers.

"i tested you years ago and you were the most kind hearted, funny, chivalrous, thoughtful person i'd ever met. so of course when steph didn't believe me that the tests work, i said i'd test you again to show they did." you continued to explain as leahs face paled.

"only you failed them! because you're a stupid selfish dickhead!" you grunted trying to pull your hands free though knowing it was to no doubt smack her again leah held on tightly.

"baby. you can't seriously think a few tests can determine something like that?" leah asked in disbelief as you rolled your eyes. "well apparently not leah because if they did then today showed i should be dating less. not engaged to you!" you pulled your hands free and turned away from her with a scowl.

"leah if you laugh right now i will turn around and punch you in the mouth." you grumbled in warning, hearing an ever so slight chuckle from the blonde beside you.

"you know i think i fell in love with your australian charm, its just so...aggressive. its quite hot!" leah hummed as you felt her lay down, nudging you with her knee when you didn't respond.

"my love. the love of my life. the most beautiful girl i've ever met and the most wonderful woman i get to call my wife soon...hopefully?" leah started as you continued to face away from her glaring at the wall.

"i am very very very sorry for not sharing with you or peeling your oranges and temporarily forgetting how lucky i am to have you. whats mine is yours and clearly i had some sort of brain aneurism today to forget that." leah continued, warily wrapping an arm around your torso, shuffling herself closer when you didn't push her away.

"come on my girl. do you want me to beg? i'm not above begging for forgiveness." you felt her lips gently kiss at your neck as her hand rubbed up and down your side. "it would be a start." you muttered honestly, and within seconds she was knelt down on the floor in front of you.

"please please please please please. will you continue our engagement?" she held up your ring she snagged from the floor where it had fallen, having to resist the urge to smile at her theatrics.

"fine." you gave in with a sigh, offering your hand as leah grinned and slid the ring back onto your finger, quickly trailing kisses all the way up your arm as you couldn't help but laugh.

"get off! idiot." you yanked your arm back as the defender puckered her lips expectantly and you raised an eyebrow.

"i want chinese for dinner, and a back massage." "done!" "and that massage is so be proper, not half assed where you poke me a few times then demand its your turn." "done!" "you do all the laundry on monday." "done!"

"and no watching the golf or the darts for a week." "alright now you're pushing it woman." your fiancé warned as you grinned.

"no golf or darts for three days and you go and make me a cup of tea while i order dinner?" "done. earl grey or english breakfast?" you looked up at her with a slack jaw before she smirked.

"only joking! english breakfast." she flicked your ear and took off out of the bedroom as you sat bolt upright.

"its earl grey leah!"

[harrysfolklore]

russell!reader after that race????

i know how much you love the future wife babies, enjoy!

You watch both screens with your heart in your throat - George leading with three laps to go, and Lando... Lando who just made a desperate move into turn 1, misjudging the gap and taking himself and out of the race.

"I know, It's my fault," Lando's voice is tight with frustration. "I'm sorry. I messed up."

Your stomach drops as you watch him coast to a stop, the cameras showing him slumped in the car before climbing out.

Two screens, two completely different emotions. Your brother about to win his first race of the year, your boyfriend's race ending in the barriers because of his own mistake.

When George crosses the finish line, the garage erupts. You're hugging everyone, crying happy tears, your heart torn between pure joy for your brother and aching concern for Lando.

You find George first, throwing yourself into his arms as he lifts you off the ground.

"We did it sis," he whispers, voice thick with emotion.

"You did it," you correct, squeezing him tight. "I'm so proud of you."

He sets you down, studying your face. "Go find him."

"But the celebrations—"

"Will still be here," George says softly. "He needs you more right now."

You find Lando in his driver room, still in his race suit, head in his hands.

"Baby," you say quietly.

"Don't," his voice is rough. "I don't deserve comfort right now. I messed up. I got impatient and I messed up."

You step closer anyway. "Everyone makes mistakes."

"Not like that," he looks up, eyes red. "I almost take Oscar too. All because I couldn't wait one more corner for a better opportunity."

"Lando..."

"You should be celebrating with George," he says. "Not dealing with my stupid mistakes."

"Hey," you kneel in front of him. "Look at me."

He reluctantly meets your eyes.

"Yes, you made a mistake. Yes, it was your fault. But beating yourself up won't change that."

"I just..." his voice cracks. "I wanted to be up there with George. I wanted to fight for the win with you here. Instead I..." he gestures helplessly, "I drove like a rookie."

"You drove like someone who wants to win," you say gently. "Sometimes that makes us push too hard."

"Oscar's going to hate me."

"Oscar's your friend. He'll understand."

"Will he?" Lando asks quietly. "Because I don't even understand what I was thinking."

"You were thinking about winning," you take his hands in yours. "Which isn't wrong. The execution was just..."

"Terrible? Stupid? Reckless?"

"Human," you finish. "You made a human mistake."

He slumps forward until his forehead rests against yours. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me," you run your fingers through his hair.

He studies your face. "You should go celebrate with George."

"Lando," you cup his face in your hands. "I'm allowed to be happy for my brother and sad for my future husband at the same time."

Despite everything, his lips twitch. "Future husband?"

"Well, you keep saying it," you shrug. "Guess it's growing on me."

He pulls you closer. "Like papaya orange?"

"Never that much," you say, relieved to see him smile slightly. "But... maybe we could paint one small wall in the future house."

His whole face lights up. "Really?"

"A very small wall," you emphasize. "Like, closet-sized."

"I'll take it," he declares, then sobers. "Thank you. For being here."

"Always," you kiss him softly. "That's what future wives are for."

"Still not my wife," he reminds you, mimicking your usual response.

"Yet," you say, making him smile properly.

A knock at the door interrupts you. It's George, still in his race suit, champagne in his hair.

"Alright mate?" he asks Lando carefully.

Lando straightens. "Yeah. Congratulations, you drove brilliantly."

"Thanks," George says, then, "Listen, we're having a small celebration later. Nothing big, just family. You should come."

"Oh, I don't want to intrude—"

"You're family too, you muppet," George cuts in. "Future brother-in-law, remember?"

Lando looks at you uncertainly. You squeeze his hand.

"Okay," he says finally. "Yeah, okay."

"Good," George grins. "Fair warning though - mum's going to try to feed you until you burst."

"I can handle that," Lando says, looking more like himself.

"Can you handle dad showing everyone baby pictures of YN again?"

"Absolutely," Lando perks up. "Those are my favorite."

"Traitor," you mutter, but you're smiling.

Later, watching Lando laugh with your family as your dad does indeed break out the baby photos, you think about how sometimes the best comfort isn't choosing sides, but creating a space where everyone belongs.

Even if that space might eventually include one very small papaya orange wall.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae :))

I know this is kinda similar to one of your other fics, and also weirdly specific haha so I totally get if you don’t want to do it, but would you be willing to do an

emt! Maruaders x reader who’s getting surgery, and has a panic attack in the pre-op room bc the nurse and anesthesiologist are just being really dismissive of her, and the Marauders get protective and intervene, and comfort reader?

This is based on irl experiences—I’m not scared of anesthesia, I’m scared of not getting properly sedated/anesthetized during procedures. I have lots of health issues and ended up with ptsd because during one of the procedures that was supposed to be ‘deep sedation’ (where you’re technically awake but you’re completely doped up and don’t feel/remember anything), they didn’t give me the proper dosage, so I was fully awake and literally sobbing and screaming and the nurses and doctors were just like ‘no we gave you the meds, you’re fine, you’re not in pain’. So now I have panic attacks when I get procedures done if I feel like i’m not being listened to, and that something similar could happen again😅

That sounds so scary babe, I'm so sorry that happened to you! Thank you for the request <3

cw: hospital, not-super-compassionate reponse by healthcare professionals, panic attack, I feel like probably a lot of this is inaccurate/against most policies so sorry about that

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 573 words

“Sweetheart, sweetheart.” James’ hand is clamped over your IV, his other arm around your shoulder as he wards off the nurse. “You’re okay, my love, just—could you give her a bit of breathing room, please?” 

His voice sharpens when he speaks to the nurse, and though you know that tone isn’t meant for you, it rubs against your already frazzled nerves to send hot tears tumbling down your cheeks. The two other people in the room, the nurse and anesthesiologist for your surgery, both look more harried than alarmed at your upset. 

“We have to take her back—” the nurse begins to say. 

A sob wrenches out of you. “Wait—wait, wait, please—” 

James shushes you, pressing his forehead to your temple. “You’re okay, angel. I’ve got you, yeah? You’re okay.” You quiet, and he stamps a kiss to your wet cheek. “She said she needed a minute,” he tells the nurse. “Just give her a bit of time, she can relax if you let her.” 

The door to your room opens. You begin crying anew as Sirius and Remus come toward you. 

“Hey,” Sirius coos, wrapping his arms around you tightly. He’s a good deal taller than you standing by the bed, your face pressed to his chest. “What happened, baby? You were so calm just a few minutes ago.” 

It’s all you can do to sniffle against his shirt. In your periphery, you can see the nurse and anesthesiologist take a step back to make room for your boyfriends. Earlier, you were told it was a rule that you were only allowed to have one guest come into the pre-op room with you; it appears that circumstances have led them to bend the rules. In quiet tones, you can hear James explaining to Remus how you’d asked for a moment to prepare yourself before being given a sedative, and how the anesthesiologist beginning to go ahead with it anyway for the sake of time had led to your fright. 

Sirius must be listening, too. His grip on you shifts, his hand cupping the back of your head protectively. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Remus sounds compassionate. He takes your hand, fingers twining with yours, and James finally lets go of your IV, reassured you’re not going to try pulling it out again. “That must have been so scary. You’re alright now, though, yeah? Take some breaths.” 

You try, feeling the heat of your tears on Sirius’ shirt. He rubs your back encouragingly. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you choke out. 

“Shh, you’ll be alright,” Remus reassures you. “I understand you felt rushed, but it was only a misunderstanding. Everything can still go perfectly. Soph knows what she’s doing.” 

Your anesthesiologist—Sophie, as she’d introduced herself—offers a sheepish smile. 

“And,” Sirius says pointedly, “they’re going to listen to you. Okay? I promise.” 

Your breaths are coming easier now. It feels good, hiding in Sirius’ front; you can almost pretend everything outside of this doesn’t exist. 

“Okay,” you say tremulously. 

You feel Remus raise your hand to his lips. “There’s our girl.” He kisses your knuckles. “Keep breathing like that, love. You’re doing beautifully.” 

“Can you please stay?”

“Yeah,” James answers before anyone else in the room can, “they can stay.” 

“Do I have to go back now?” 

“No, lovie.” He rubs your leg soothingly. “I know your team’s got a schedule to keep, but I’m sure they can spare a few minutes. Take your time.”

[iamthatonefangirl]

kk picture this:

bucky finally being able to use a phone and one day he goes on his camera roll bc he remembered he took a pic of some file or something he need to take a look at again…

and suddenly seeing a pic of you, that he knows he didnt take himself…he also knows you didnt send him that pic…meaning you took it with his phone yourself…

its you on you knees on the bed, your fav pillow between your thighs, tits out- one of your hands around your neck holding it like he usually does, dog tags visible around your neck as well, and you r looking so sweet but sooo horny- directly into the camera…lips all glossy too…

he wonders how long this has been in his camera roll, how long he has been oblivious to this masterpiece on his phone, how long he has been neglecting you like that, how long you waited for him to find it…you wanted him so see it…ofc you did…so now he hast to to do smth about it…

alright ily chao chao

- 💋

oh I am OBSESSED with this idea wait a damn minute

once he sees it, all the thoughts start coming to his head

how long has he not known about this image? (the answer: two months.) how many missions had he been on since you took it that could he could have used it to get off to? (the answer: 7.)

the second he sees it he's already pulling his cock out oh my god you look so gorgeous to him. and maybe he gets a glimpse of the pillow between your thighs and it's got a fucking wet spot on it. dear god. he wants to replace that pillow with his fucking thigh or his hand, anyway to feel you

maybe you're at work. maybe he knows he's about to pull something.

"what's up, baby? I'm at work," you whisper to him when you pick up the phone. "is everything okay?"

"oh, yeah, all good," he says into the phone, and you hear his clipped little breaths between his words

"are you-"

"oh, yeah." he affirms, entirely shamelessly. "I found your little gift for me in my photos."

it's been so goddamn long since you took it that it takes you a beat to think about it, and then it comes to you. you smirk to yourself, putting your head down at your desk and speaking lowly.

"finally found that, huh?" you taunt

"yeah, baby, and I'm so hard just thinking about it... got you on speaker, gotta look at how sexy you look, fuck..."

"you enjoy yourself. I gotta go."

"no, just... stay on the phone. don't even gotta say anything, fuck, just let me..." he says, moaning as he takes in a new part of the picture every time

you quietly slip your airpods in and listen as he talks your ear off while fucking his fist, all while you're in the office pretending to work.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

"oh wow, you're even pudgier than i thought !"

shouto looks up from the photo album to look up at you, his expression barely betrays how confused he is. he raises a brow.

"...is that a good thing ?"

"mhm." that's all you say. shouto decides not to ask for more. you flip another page, squealing in surprise when you see another baby picture of your boyfriend.

"holy shit, just look at those cheeks--"

"it's not that bad." he grumbles slightly, feeling a bit insulted (and secretly a little embarrassed.)

"your head is massive !" you laugh, your boyfriend pouts slightly at you sitting next to him on the floor of his living room. usually, he's not out here much but he likes being here with you.

today though, not as much. he curses touya for ever telling you the location of this cursed item. then again, he should've known.

"if you're gonna keep making fun of me i'd rather we put this away."

"no, no !" you yelp, squeezing the book close to your chest when he reaches for it "i'm not making fun of you, honest ! you're just so cute it makes me wanna squeeze you silly." you squish his cheeks and he visibly relaxes, like a cat.

"you already do that, angel." shouto sighs.

"baby you, i mean. i wish i could've met you when we were younger, we would've been the best of friends."

shouto's eyes soften then, leaning into your touch "i'm sure we would've been, love. but i'm glad i'm not just friends with you now, at least."

"always so smooth.." you pick the album back up, shuffling through some more pages and laying down on your back with a groan. shouto lays down on his back next you, always wanting to be closer now that you'd let go of his face. there's some pictures of him and his siblings as babies that make you laugh, like the one of his oldest brother sitting on top of him while he's red faced and in tears, touya holding a casual peace sign at the camera. (shouto scoffs under his breath when he sees it, like he remembers some kind of incident)

you land on a picture that makes you pause. it's a picture of him on his mom's lap, he's showing her a toy car and looks like he's describing it in great detail. his mom looks down at him so softly, with a sweet smile on her face while she listens to what you imagine is a very riveting monologue.

it makes you pause, and it makes your heart squeeze. shouto is quiet next to you.

"hey, it's your mom."

your boyfriend hums in response "she's been asking after you."

you smile, "tell her i miss her next time you visit, okay ?" and he hums again. you're really inspecting the picture and you realise--

"y'know, you like a lot like your mom."

shouto's breath gets caught in his throat. he's silent and he wants to speak but his throat feels clogged, he forces his voice to come out anyway, it comes out quiet, surprised, and almost..meek.

"...really ?"

you don't notice his change of tone, happily continuing "yeah, yeah! especially..." you trail off, flipping back a few pictures to another one with both his parents and him tucked behind his mother's leg as he takes his first day of grade school picture in his cute little uniform.

"yeah, here! especially in this one !" you point. shouto leans in some more, and he searches around for any resemblance because frankly, he doesn't think he sees it much. other than the color of his eye and strands of his hair he can't seem to find anything.

being your own person is nice, but you'll always have something that likens you to the people that brought you in the world. and shouto had been told so often by people who didnt know any better (or maybe some did) that he resembled his dad; his quirk, his face, his gaze; it always went back to him. him, him, always him. at some point in his life it made him genuinely sick, but he's learned to live with it now.

but you, you see his mom. in his cheekbones, in the shape of his eyes and in the way that he smiles "pretty like his mommy", apparently. even tracing his features and nodding, so sure of yourself, calling him a total "mama's boy".

and shouto can't help but be honest, "i don't really see it..." he trails of shyly. his heart burns.

but you're going through hell and high water to convince him otherwise. like he's crazy for not seeing it even though all he's been seeing was the aftermath of the man who had ruined his family. you point out how rei's little dimple matches his and how his voice is soft and airy like hers. they both have the same preferences and specific mannerism that he himself hadn't even noticed. and he can't help but smile.

( taglist ! )

@jastoo46 @cecelia77 @erenstitanweave @closehereyes @stoned-anime-babe @taxavoider @yannvi @sugurusmoon @allurearia @kaerotica @wonubby @cupidsblonde @catsoupki @ita606 @andysdrafts @omitea @lili-of-the-vally @serpent-hearted @ghostorchidd @shewki @pirana10 @witch-craft-works @kanvis @okkotsuus @dragonscribble @emmiesarchive @screaming-dough @napbatata @cacaandweewizzsstuff @redollface @meowsannie @katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba @moonshuul @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam @aspiringwriter1111 @redvelvetstan1 @niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia @qyuin @bakugouswaif @themultifandomgirl @icey-wonders

[illbegottenfaith]

that one girl from summer camp

you drive yourself up the wall trying to figure out who your best friend is taking to your year's farewell dinner (theo nott x reader, ft. the Slytherin boys)

a/n - before anyone says it I KNOW they can prob just use magic for whatever they're doing but i feel like that wouldn't make for a very fun fic heheh okay enjoyyy

tropes/warning - fluff, friends to lovers, jealous!reader, happy ending, the Slytherin boys being menaces/irritatingly unhelpful

word count - 2k

taglist - @kandralice @justme989898 @iamheretoread1234 @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf @user089167

May - the one time of year the air smelt so deliciously of tangerines and escape, freedom so close you could taste it. In the midst of all the finals and packing, you and your friends had volunteered to help prep certain areas of the crumbling castle for a little refurbishment. Now, you were dropping by to visit Theo, who was helping pack the majority of the Restricted Section books into boxes.

"Anyway, Melissa and I should get back to packing," Ivy was saying with him half-listening. "It's awful, Theodore. Our room is such a mess, there's barely enough space for the three of us. Especially on Y/N's side of the room."

You glared at her as Theo bent to tick something else off his list. But she only gave you an exaggeratedly saucy wink.

"I guess we'll just...leave Y/N with you."

She ducked as you you brandished a book at her threateningly. You weren't going to let her hear the end of it later.

Melissa had the good sense to steer Ivy towards the exit, who was now making exaggerated kissy faces despite your scowl. Lucky for you, Theo hadn't caught much of it. He glanced up as Ivy was noisily leaving, looking a little lost. You pointed at his box.

"Want some help?"

And so the two of you spent the better part of the next hour emptying It felt nice to watch him work, unbothered - how he distractedly pushed his hair back when he was thinking a little hard, how he hummed when he forgot you were only a few shelves away, how he'd take in a particularly deep breath if he was deeply absorbed in something.

"I can't believe we're finally graduating. I thought it would never end," you sighed, taping a box closed. "Are you staying for the farewell dinner?"

"Yeah." Theo said distractedly, frowning at his list. You watched him carefully.

"Are you...taking anyone?"

Theo's head jerked up.

"What?"

You flinched, startled. You could feel the back of your neck growing warm as you hastily started to explain. "To the dinner. Are you going with someone? It's just, I was wond - "

"Oh." Was it just you, or did he look a little relieved? "Yeah. I mean, yes, I'm hoping to take someone. Someone special. I haven't asked her yet, though."

You put your stack of books down, giving Theo a sidelong glance. He had to be talking about you. Was this him being coy?

"And who exactly is this mystery someone?"

Theo waved a hand dismissively. "No one, really. Just this girl I met at that summer camp. The one after first year, remember?"

Of course you remembered. It had been like one big sleepover for all the first-years, free to explore the castle and terrorise the House head without the threat of finals or detentions (not that a certain greasy-haired professor still didn't try). It was one of your fondest memories, marred only slightly by this girl with dark, deep-set eyes and an unfortunate bowl-cut, bob-esque haircut who constantly followed you and your friends around.

You also remembered that you had only met Theo in your third year, in a shared Herbology class, a good two years after the camp. All of a sudden, your tongue felt too big for your mouth.

"Oh," you said, stupidly. Because what else could you say?

"It only seems fitting after all these years." Theo continued, oblivious to the embarrassment washing over you, scooping up your stack of books like it weighed nothing.

Your face fell. "Right."

You busied yourself with the next shelf of books, and the next, and the next. The two of you worked in silence. You wondered if he noticed how quiet you had become.

"We're out of boxes," Theo said after a while. "I'll have to go get more. Meet back here in 15?"

He was already halfway out the door before you could respond.

You decided a little fresh air would help. In the courtyard, Mattheo was covering the walls with a fresh coat of paint with a few others, a smudge of paint on his nose.

"Mattheo," you called out, walking over to him. "You have a little - "

He looked up inquisitively just as another dollop of paint dripped off the roller and landed on his hair.

"Never mind."

"How goes the library?" he asked, pausing his work. You shrugged.

"Alright. Boring. Fine."

He hummed noncommittally. "Just fine? No...scintillating conversation?"

Mattheo's tone was deceptively casual as he turned back to his work, dunking his roller into the bucket of paint. You narrowed your eyes at the boy suspiciously.

"You know something," you concluded.

"I should hope so, after seven years in this place," Mattheo responded coolly.

"You know who Theo's taking to the dinner."

He paused his dunking efforts, looking genuinely surprised.

"You don't?"

"You do?"

He hesitated, trying to look exceptionally engrossed in wringing out the excess paint.

"Maybe."

"Maybe? Either you know or you don't. Which is it?"

"I might know. I might not," Mattheo continued in that irritatingly smug tone. "But if I did know, I wouldn't be telling you."

You rolled your eyes. "Rude."

He smirked. "It's the truth."

"What's the truth?"

You looked over your shoulder to see Draco walking towards the two of you, lazily tossing an apple. Maybe you'd have better luck with him.

"You wouldn't happen to know who Theo's taking to the farewell, dinner, would you?"

"Not you, that's for sure," he replied almost immediately, taking a generous bite of his apple.

"I know that," you muttered, your voice faltering a little. Merlin knows he had made that exceptionally clear. You cleared your throat awkwardly. Mattheo glared at Draco.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the Astronomy Tower?"

"I'm taking my break."

"Well, go take your break somewhere else. Like with the ferrets."

"Hey," Draco said, the tips of his ears turning faintly pink. "That was one time, and as far as I'm concerned, it was nothing short of child abuse - "

"Animal abuse, more like."

You left the boys to bicker as you morosely drifted back towards the library. If only someone would tell you.

Someone you could trust to be telling the truth.

In a fit of inspiration, you changed course, walking in the opposite direction. What you needed, you had decided, was someone in Theo's inner circle who couldn't bear to lie.

You watched Blaise step out of the Slytherin common room from a short distance away, near the shifting staircases. He was fiddling with his watch but stopped short as soon as he saw you. You smiled cheerily.

"Zabini," you started breezily.

"No."

The boy held out a hand in warning. You frowned at him, appalled.

"Zabini," you said, much more impatiently, taking a step towards him. He let out a strangled sort of sound and stepped back.

"No. I already told Theo I want no part in this - this game of yours."

You scoffed. Someone had to have given him a heads up. "Was it Draco? Was he the one who told you?" That slimy eyesore of a snitch.

"It doesn't matter," Blaise was saying, more preoccupied with finding a way out now that you were drawing closer, closing in on him. "I want nothing to do with it. This is between you and Theo."

You laughed weakly.

"Honestly, Blaise. I just want to have a little chat with you! There's nothing wrong with that. Why are you - where are you going? Why are you walking away from me? Blaise? Why are you run - Zabini! Stop running! TELL ME WHO THEO'S TAKING TO THE - "

Unfortunately, you weren't half the track star Blaise was, and yelling while sprinting at full speed was more than your lungs could take. You decided to take a little breather on the steps, hatefully watching him disappear into the convoluted network of staircases with the most awful stitch in your chest.

"I got the boxes," Theo said brightly as you walked in, "and water."

You were too exhausted to even pretend to be fine. "I'm not thirsty," you mumbled, turning your back to him in dismissal. Theo paused, uncertain.

Though, you thought after a moment, you were feeling a little parched, what with all that running.

"Give me that."

Theo handed the bottle over.

"Are you okay? You look a little..."

You shook your head.

"It's nothing. I've just been running around the castle." Like an idiot.

Theo looked confused. It was a frustratingly adorable look on him. "Whatever for?"

You sighed. You pulled him into the chair next to yours, looking him squarely in the eye.

"Nott."

"L/N," he echoed in a completely serious tone, looking like he was enjoying this more than he should.

"I'm going to be straight with you."

"You do that."

"I need you to be straight with me."

"I'll try my best, ma'am."

"Okay. Why won't you tell me who you're taking to the dinner?"

Theo opened his mouth, but then closed it again, as if deciding better of his response. You hated it. You couldn't remember the last time you kept something from him, other than the very big Something you felt about him, and it felt horrible to have him keep something from you.

"Do you not want me to know?" you asked a little pitifully. You wouldn't like it one bit, but you'd learn to accept whoever it was Theo had taken a fancy to. That's what friends did.

"I do want you to know," he said earnestly. "Trust me, I do, more than you know."

"So tell me."

"You."

"Me what?"

"You. I'm taking you."

You stared at him, silent. He stared back, face equally inscrutable. What kind of sick joke was he playing? Hadn't he embarrassed you enough? You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You worried your bottom lip.

"First you won't tell me who you're taking, now you're making fun of me? Is this all a big joke to you? Do you find this funny?"

"A little."

You stood up. Maybe your reaction wasn't making a lot of sense to either of you, but you had had enough. He finally spotted the gleam in your eyes.

"Wait - Y/N, please, I did mean to ask you. This afternoon."

"Enough with the lying, Teddy. This isn't funny anymore."

"But I'm not lying." He looked so distraught, you almost felt sorry for him.

"Draco already said it wasn't me."

The concern knitted into his face almost instantly evaporated. "Malfoy lied? For fun?" He deadpanned. "Alert the presses."

You floundered. "Well - erm - you said you met her at camp. We only met in third year Herbology."

Theo shook his head, mystified.

"No," he said slowly, "we met at the camp. I'm sure of it." He cocked his head. "Do you seriously not remember me?"

"All I remember is this one - " your heated words died on your lips as you finally out two and two together. That had been no little girl, but a little boy, with hair as wavy and soft and dark as Theo's.

"We did meet at camp," you corrected yourself. "We did." You had to hold back a laugh. "My - my mistake. We met at the camp."

Now he was watching you suspiciously.

"What's so funny?" he asked testily.

You just shook your head, swallowing your smile.

bonus (a few months later):

"Girl?" Theo echoed, scandalised, flipping through your photo album. The two of you were in your dorm, sitting side by side on your bed while Theo looked through your album and you - well, you were just enjoying staring at your boyfriend and his handsome side profile. Your heart gave a giddy jolt. Boyfriend. You'd never tire of hearing the word.

"You thought I was a girl?"

You rolled your eyes. "In my defence, your voice was at a much higher pitch back then. Also, you were 11. I was 11. So..."

Theo shook his head slowly, mumbling disbelievingly under his breath.

"Look - " you pulled the album from his lap towards you. "See, your hair's a little long, so it kind of looks like a bob, and it's sort of overwhelming on your face, which is - "

"What about my face?" Theo asked in a half-injured tone. You grinned. He could be so sensitive sometimes.

You put aside the album, leaning in close enough to see the faint freckles dusting his nose, the faded birthmark near the corner of his eye. You pressed a kiss to your cheekbone.

"Nothing. It's perfect."