#as much as i love him there's no way the story would be the same if he had survived | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wonjns · 21 hours ago

Text

discourse — j.ww

⌗ pairing. . . jeon wonwoo x male reader

⌗ genre. . . smut

⌗ summary. . . when you and wonwoo argue, you have sex. it just works. but everybody knows thats not the best method for a couple to find resolve. you want to try doing things the healthy way for once. its just so hard.

⌗ includes. . . bttm!reader, mentions of angry sex, marking, slight choking, dry humping, rimming/oral, size kink, bigdick!wonu, unprotected sex (be safe irl!!), these two wanna do the right thing but are just so horny

⌗ wc. 5.7k (...)

°A/N. . . hiya you guys!! this one acc wasn't requested but based off a dream i had lol. this is my first seventeen fic in a while (which is funny bc my first ever fic was about wonwoo) so i hope you guys like it :'-)

being wonwoo’s boyfriend meant passion and dedication were the new central traits of your life.

if there was one thing jeong wonwoo did, it was love deeply. he also held himself to high standards and had extensive expectations - as any self respecting individual would. however, holding you to those same standards as his lover did have a tendency to be overbearing from time to time. long story short, it inevitably lead to arguments becoming less than foreign within your relationship.

he was constantly trying to be his best for you, and expected 200% from you in return. it wasn't unreasonable whatsoever, but it became pretty clear that each of your views on just how putting forth that much effort looked were different, leading to inevitable frustration bubbling inside both of you.

and of course, in some semi-toxic way, that very frustration lead to fucking.

the last thing wonwoo could ever bring himself to do was hurt you, neither physically or verbally, despite how upset he would get. same could be said for you - so it was only natural when the flames of anger that ignited in you were transformed into embers of pure, raw sex in heated attempts to release the tension.

it quickly became your go to method.

countless times has wonwoo come home in the middle of week old arguments, and you don’t even speak as much as a word to one another before his lips are on yours. not much has to be said before those ridiculously soft lips of his are passionately sucking the life- and any fight you had left- out of you. both of your frustrations were palpable in the way you’d bite his lips, the way his enormous hands would bruise your hips— the way he'd tossed you around like you deserved the dull pain that came with being slammed against the wall or folded over a solid surface.

at some point, you had come to terms that this was not the proper way to settle your disagreements; realizing you were both just bottling up the negativity that would surely explode one day. but shit, it was hard to change your ways when your boyfriend was so fucking hot and dealt with you in a way that left you so physically satisfied.

you’d be lying if you said the thought of wonwoo’s indignant demeanor didn’t make your cheeks warm, his tongue always putting in extra effort to turn your mind into mush. you know he'd never harm you, but you actually liked when he made it hurt a little during sex - as if you were being punished.

something you would never admit is that there were a few times you had pissed him off on purpose, just so he would strip you down and have his way with you right then and there. there was one time where his unnaturally talented mouth toyed with you damn near all day by denying your climax, despite pushing you to the edge several times. cloud 9 was hardly an accurate description of how you felt when wonwoo finally let you release in his mouth, or over his naked chest, or even in his big hands— you get the point.

but, it was time for change. healthy change.

you were pleasantly surprised when wonwoo joined you in your research of couple therapy-esque exercises to practice. you were dedicated to finding a way to help two of you actually resolve things and understand each other instead of just fucking them away. you could have actually attended a couple's therapist, but who seriously had the time for that when you could find all of the tips they’d tell you online for free anyways?

after a few days of web browsing, you came across a method that seemed reasonable and had a decently high success rate. all it entailed was simply having a quick, 10-minute discussion whenever one of you came home for the day. the trendy blogger who posted the article coined this routine as the "at home unwind". the key of the conversation was to offer both of you time to decompress and actually hear about the other's day and emotions before discussing anything negative... or doing anything physical.

the cyber therapist explicitly mentioned that was the most important thing to avoid.

oddly enough, it reassured you that this issue was common enough for others to experience, feeling like this method of practice nailed you and wonwoo’s biggest issue directly on the head. however, as pitiful as it sounded, you weren’t sure how confident you were in either of your abilities to talk for 10 minutes straight while keeping your hands to yourself.

these days, it felt like arguing and fucking were the only channels of communication for you two. it was terrible, you know, but wonwoo had a slick mouth and a huge cock - pair those with your stubborn attitude and the equation practically works itself out. during especially argumentative days, it was only a matter of time before one of you pounced on the other. still, wonwoo was fully on board to take on this new challenge and you were thankful for that.

the first four or so sessions went magnificently. you had actually begun to talk to wonwoo every evening and started to get a better look on his daily work life, and the kinds of things he dealt with and how certain things lifted his mood or took a toll on him. it made you remember how much you loved talking to your boyfriend. he was deep, sentimental, and had some of the most intriguing insight you’ve ever heard from anybody.

maybe the internet wasn't always full of shit, since this diy therapy was clearly helping steer your relationship towards a better place. you were starting to get a really good feeling about this whole thing.

and then the next argument came.

god, you could hardly remember what even sparked the fight this time. perhaps it was something about house chores, or you staying out too late with your friends – all you could confidently remember was getting pissed off from the accusatory tone in his voice.

before you knew it, you were exchanging petty back and forths throughout the day, and slamming doors just a little too loudly. admittedly, you did want to fuck him as you fell back into your old habits. hearing wonwoo's rude remarks would make your ears steam with annoyance, but you also recognized the familiar look in his eyes that would only show face when he wanted to stuff you full with that fat cock of his until you were whimpering apologies for being an asshole. deep down, you wanted him to make you.

but alas, you kept to yourselves. you tried to rely on your new little therapeutic routine, but even those talks would end in exasperation and headaches. within a day or two, you started to ween off the unwinding technique, cutting the conversation short as soon as one of you caught an attitude. something inside you couldn't have cared in the slightest, and you were sure he didn't either. it wasn't until things escalated a bit further than they usually did one night that caused wonwoo to worry.

the screaming match was your fault, knowing full well that you were the hypocrite for fussing at him the minute he came home from a late night out with his buddies. you were the usual culprit when it came to staying out well into the hours of the night without so much as a text to wonwoo. but you were already irritated and irrational, so you decided to take it out on him.

"you're a fucking asshole, y/n." was the last thing wonwoo had muttered before going into your shared room and forcing the door shut, the wooden echo sounding throughout the apartment.

you barely managed a half-hearted "fuck you" in return, feeling a pang of guilt in your stomach from the aggravation you heard in his voice. still, you stubbornly held your ground, taking to sleep on the couch that night.

you were still asleep, sprawled on the cushions as wonwoo went to work the next morning. he had glanced at your sleeping figure on the way out, debating whether to wake you up or not. he ultimately decided against it as he wordlessly left and let his bitchy boyfriend sleep.

when you did awake, you had resulted to brooding under the blankets all day. you sighed, annoyed at your heavy conscious stirring within you as you knew it should you who apologizes first.

as thick skulled as you were, you did manage to pick up your phone in order to text wonwoo. but before you got the chance to get typing, you were met with a familiar ping.

wonu 🐈‍⬛: make sure you're home when i get off. we haven't done our 10 in a couple days.

you knew he was talking about the at home unwind, which you two had been skipping due to the heat of the atmosphere at home. despite how it may seem through your eyes, wonwoo couldn't stand arguing with you - especially to this extent.

all he could think about during his busy workday was how you were most definitely sulking at home, alone. and of course, he was right. he was always right when it came to you. you never reached out to others when you were frustrated, not even him, which only bothered him more. on the other hand, he also couldn't shake the image of you bundled up in his clothes.

you always loved to borrow and wear his things, no matter how mad at him you got, with those gut-wrenchingly attractive lips of yours plumped up into a pout. the things he wanted that mouth of yours, so attitudinal but so supple, to do him during times like this.

wonwoo released a hushed, deep groan as he pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing he was straining his office pants.

you sighed, reading the text over once more but not bothering to respond. everything you had to say you might as well save for the exercise.

you felt wonwoo's presence before you heard it. he walked through the door quietly, causing your head to peak around the corner from your room as he shrugged off his jacket and set his things down.

he had went to the gym after work, as he usually does, his attire changed from his plain button up and slacks to loose sweats and that one white tee that tightly hugged his chiseled torso.

one look up to you had your breath catching in your throat, his eye contact intense as he held it while slipping his shoes off. you had no clue what to say when his long legs carried himself over to the couch you had spent most of the day grumbling to yourself on. taking a seat, wonwoo spread his legs comfortably while patting his thigh, keeping his gaze downcast.

you felt small, as if you were a child being beckoned over. nonetheless you obeyed, walking over to him and shyly climbing into his lap.

the air was stiff as you awkwardly tried to get comfortable, wonwoo's hands taking over to shift your legs so that you straddled him. you avoided looking at his gorgeous, clearly vexed face as your knees caged around his waist. you sat like that in silence for what felt like eternity, the warmth of his body taking over yours as you watched his buff chest rise and fall under the constraints of his t-shirt. you were suddenly painfully aware of how long it had been since you'd been this close within his proximity.

on the days you didn't fight, you were always all over your massive boyfriend. you were addicted to the feeling of his larger form and smooth skin against yours. even now, despite the tension in the air, you could physically feel yourself relaxing from being atop of him like this.

"you know you really pissed me off last night."

of course that's the first thing that comes out of his mouth. you felt your blood spike immediately, eyes shooting up to him as he stared at you with such a lack of expression it seemed almost smug.

"but you-" you started, ready to fire back, but caught yourself. "forget it. i thought you wanted to do the unwind."

"i do." he responded calmly, slowly sliding his hands up your thighs and meeting behind your back. you ignored the motion, sporting that exact pout that he loved so fucking much.

"then we need to follow the steps." you chided back, trying to remember the order of the prompts. the first one was simple. "so... how was work? anything weigh you down at all?"

it was awkward trying to ask the questions with a genuine tone, knowing how pissed you both still were.

"honestly, i couldn't stop thinking about how much i wanted to fuck you all day."

your gasp was involuntary, eyes shooting back to his in disbelief. this time that signature smirk of his stretched loosely on his face, signaling that you gave him the exact reaction he was looking for. before you could interject he kept going, that deep voice of his dropping an octave.

"had me thinking about how much of a bitch you were last night, and how i should've just stayed home today to make sure i knocked it right out of you." you felt his grip on your ass tighten with his words.

"w-wonwoo..." you tried to speak up, your fidgeting giving away your growing nerves. "whatever you're doing-"

"god, you had me bricked up in the middle of a fucking meeting, y/n. you like doing that to me don't you? you just have to go and get me so riled up so that the only thing i can think about the next few days is feeling you shaking under me, hm?"

there were very few times you've been rendered speechless, yet this was undoubtedly one of them. your skin had managed to catch on fire in the matter of seconds from the way he was speaking to you alone, your body instinctually reacting to him. you now understood in full wonwoo's aforementioned struggle of straining his pants at work, since you were feeling the very same thing happen to your boxers now.

your own erection started to grow while you envisioned wonwoo's words, and you suddenly felt a twitch under you. a quiet moan escaped you when you looked down to see wonwoo's familiar bulge for yourself, proudly prodding through his sweats.

his smirk had grown even wider when you looked back up to him, lust pooling in your eyes as he ran his tongue lazily over his pristine teeth. that grin was so teasing that you didn't know if you wanted to punch or kiss it off.

you decided on the latter.

everything moved so quickly as your frustration boiled past your breaking point, causing you to lurch forward and claim wonwoo's mouth against your own. you held back a whimper feeling his plush lips against yours for the first time in what felt like years. it had only been a couple days, but with wonwoo sometimes hours felt like a lifetime.

you allow your head to grow fuzzy as your boyfriend presses deeper against you, scooting your body further up his thighs so that he can taste even more of you in one go. this time a pathetic moan did fall from you as wonwoo's hot tongue slipped into your mouth, and he eagerly swallowed the sound. your hands grew a mind of their own as they tangled in his soft, jet black strands.

wonwoo greedily ground your hips against his, making sure you felt his hardened length glide against yours before he sat you directly on top of it, causing you to instinctively clench around nothing. the sound of wonwoo's plump lips smacking against yours caused him to groan, a chilling shock shooting down your spine once he started sucking on your tongue.

when you were running out of air, wonwoo pulled away to hear you whimper aloud while his hungry lips attached to your jaw, slowly kissing his way down your neck.

"wonu," you groaned, grabbing onto his wide shoulders while bucking your hips forwards again. you swore you could feel his abs through his shirt. you called his name a second time, trying to stabilize your voice to get his attention.

he hummed in acknowledgment without stopping his ministrations, sucking leisurely just above your weak spot. you whimpered once more and reluctantly push against his shoulders to detach him from your neck, breathing heavily as his blown out eyes assessed you.

you felt like prey under his narrow glare, desire and anger somehow coexisting his dark eyes. you wanted nothing more than to let him devour you, but you could hear that faint voice of reason in the back of your head telling you not to resort to your old ways. you wanted to listen while you could at least still recognize it.

"the exercise..." you sighed, "we have to finish."

your hands wander all over each other as you try to pace your breathing and calm down, the tension in the room palpable. wonwoo nods at your suggestion, closing his eyes to stretch his neck side to side. something only jeon wonwoo could make look that sexy.

"okay, so how was your day?" he mutters before leaning back in, lips gently pressing directly your neck's the soft spot. its a much gentler kiss, him showing attention to each patch of skin he came across.

you allow your eyes to flutter shut and let out a breath as you felt him pamper you, tenderly running his large hands up and down your back.

"it was- good... i mean, it was okay." you concentrated on speaking, twirling a bit of wonwoo's hair betwixt your fingers.

"just okay?" wonwoo spoke against your neck, knowing how you loved the vibration of his voice.

"well... i spent most of it moping." you sunk a bit further down on his lap at the admission.

"really? what's got you down, no plans today?" he feigned curiosity between kisses, knowing good and well exactly why you spent all day upset.

"no i— oh my god," you trailed off, feeling wonwoo's tongue drag flatly along your collarbone. when did his hands find their way under your shirt?

when you felt a mark forming at the base of your throat your head tilted back, sending a moan into the open air as you wrapped your arms around wonwoo's shoulders.

"w-wonu, the exercise..." the words carried no authority coming from you, but wonwoo relented and pulled away from your neck.

"right, right." he responded. he blinked a few times while caressing your hips, visibly trying to snap out of the trance he'd fallen into.

"i just feel bad about last night..." you went on. "its kind of all i've been thinking about."

wonwoo sighed, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied you.

"i feel like shit too, baby. as soon you went to bed i regretted everything. i shouldn't have reacted to you that way when i'd just stepped through the door."

you felt the smallest flurry of butterflies from his softened demeanor, his original lustful gaze of fire sizzling for just a moment as he stared directly in your eyes with a gentleness you could tell was genuine. the pang of love that you felt conjure out of no where you was impossible to ignore, but so was the hint of desire that came along with it as he kept speaking.

"i've been wrong about a lot without even realizing it, which only makes things worse when we're frustrated."

the look of shy longing that now overtook his eyes felt incomprehensibly magnetic, and while the aggravation of the other day still burned underneath your skin, you suddenly found yourself wanting to do anything in order to make wonwoo feel better.

you couldn't remember a time where wonwoo had taken responsibility like this before, admitting fault without a hint of backlash. even though he knew you were both in the wrong a majority of the time, he was humbling himself to make amends with you– and you couldn't believe how much it was turning you on.

"i don't like going to bed angry at you," wonwoo continued his rambling, stuttering only a bit when you decided it was your turn to start kissing down his neck.

as terrible as it was, his words were starting to fade into background noise as you glide your lips along his supple skin, embracing his warm and brawny scent. you started feeling up his biceps, gently squeezing the muscle in your palms. you let yourself bask in how even more defined they felt from his gym session, which you were left to assume was less than an hour ago.

"i..." he slightly trembled, clearly losing himself to your actions. "i think theres a lot more that we could do to help fix us... you know what i mean?" he spoke in a low tone, and you caught on to how his sentences started slurring into groans when you suckled just below his sharp jaw.

much like he did earlier, you only offered wonwoo a hum of acknowledgment and nothing more.

in hindsight, you should be fully attentive to everything he's saying. especially because this was a rare moment where he was actively trying to solve things. but you just couldn't help yourself - the gentle and guilty tone of his voice was causing your mind to melt, let alone how good his body felt under yours again after so long. what was really sealing your coffin was the taste of his skin as you nipped at it, causing you to stir downstairs.

"are you even listening to me, y/n?" wonwoo asked, a large hand tugging the back of the neck so he could look into your eyes. your glossed over, lovestruck eyes. "all i'm trying to say is i'm sor-"

wonwoo's apology didn't even get to leave his lips in entirety before you were pressing them against yours, trapping the unfinished sentence back into the void. your boyfriend's eyes widened slightly at the desperation in the act, before slowly closing them and allowing you to take over.

you moaned quietly, the kiss immediately picking up intensity while you had your way in absolutely ravaging wonwoo, your thighs tightening around his waist as you tasted him more. you could feel wonwoo's resolve melting the longer you played with his hair, keeping his head firmly in place to keep feeding him the long winded kiss. he pulled away right before you could drain him of his very last drop of sanity, groaning at how your teeth latched on to his bottom lip for just a second longer.

"shouldn't we be talking, babe? you were the one who wanted to do the therapy..." wonwoo spoke, his words opposing his actions as he dragged your hips over his.

"i know, i know... just, fuck... later, please." you exhaled out, feeling overcome with pure want as one of your hands instinctively dropped down to palm your bulge.

wonwoo didn't bother hiding his smirk as he peered between your bodies at your shameless action, feeling overwhelmingly smug that he could get you acting this way with such little effort. he knew exactly how fervidly your body reacted to him, and it only inflated his ego more.

he couldn't deny your adorable pleading voice, the usual spiteful tone of yours completely replaced by begs for him. wonwoo could see how you wanted nothing more than to just feel him on top of you, overwhelming you, and he was losing his self control much faster than he'd like to admit.

fuck it, you guys could figure out the sappy stuff later.

there was no hesitation when wonwoo's long fingers encased your face and pulled you back to him, completely taking over your mouth with a searing kiss. you pitifully attempted to match his pace while you processed the heat of the moment. less than a beat later your hips were back to bucking at the feeling of that tongue of his forcing its way past your lips, slipping into your cavern and running dauntlessly over your teeth before pressing flat against your own wet muscle.

your hands were clinging to his shirt, bunching it up near his chest before you realized how in the way it was of you having true access to all of him. you started tugging at the hems of his shirt, whimpering when wonwoo's relentless tongue traced patterns on the roof of your mouth.

he immediately got the hint, pulling away to chuckle against your face while helping you yank the snug material over his head. you released a deep sigh of relief you once his body was revealed, hands shaky as you finally danced them across his perfect skin.

wonwoo was so built so fucking disrespectfully.

his chiseled muscles and bare chest were on full display to your hungry eyes. those same proportions that drove you crazy just from looking at him in fitted clothing now had your mind racing faster than you could comprehend. his exposed, broad shoulders grew wider each time you saw them, and those perked nipples and sculpted abs stared directly back at you - you had no idea if you could ever get used to him.

he pulled your mouth back to his immediately, gifting you the sloppiest open mouth kisses imaginable as all of the words you had planned to say melted into moans. you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into him again through all the layers of your shorts, your quickly throbbing erection deliciously dragging along his much larger one. you dared break apart from wonwoo’s addictive lips just to glance down at the enormous tent in his pants, wanting to watch yourself drag your clothed cock against his again.

wonwoo chuckled, knowing you were slipping into that headspace that caused you to act like a starved maniac - you were his favorite when you acted like this.

before you knew it, you were being tossed, your back molding with the couch cushions. you looked up to see wonwoo smirking down at you, looking nothing short of divine from above you. a blush rose to your cheeks from how the soft light of your living room was cast agains the grooves of his physique.

"you want me?" he teased.

the words were caught in your throat, but you didn't even need them as wonwoo was quick to pull your own shirt clean off, covering your body with his own frame. your coo's of approval made wonwoo's dick twitch again, knowing how much you loved feeling the delicious pressure of his weight on you.

your fingertips roamed the vast expanse of wonwoo's back as he starting kissing you dizzy again, your hands just as hungry as your mouth was to feel him.

your eyes remained closed as he started kissing down your body, making sure to leave a teasing kitten lick to an exposed nipple on his way down. you shuddered at the sensation, a hand flying back to his hair as you felt his hands smooth both your shorts and underwear down your legs all in one go.

neither of you could handle much teasing when you were worked up like this. however, your back still arched against the cushions when wonwoo placed a chaste kiss to your cock, groaning as he felt streaks of precum that managed to leak through and decorate your member. he did you a quick favor, greedily licking at the underside of your cock and loving how you tugged at his hair.

wonwoo said nothing as he ventured lower, allowing his eager tongue to lap a stripe around your hole, rimming you to his content. you gasped loudly, a string of curses and disorganized begs falling from your lips while he used both palms to hold you still.

you felt tears begin to prickle at your eyes, both from desperation and satisfaction although he'd barely done anything yet. it wasn't until you felt his pink tongue finally push into entrance that a tear cascaded down your cheek, feeling the vibrations of his moans reverberate through your entire body.

it felt like as soon as wonwoo got started he had finished, withdrawing from playing with your ass as if he had only wanted a quick taste.

"so good for me, baby. not feeling like a bitch anymore, are we?" he taunted as he settled himself back over you, his cockiness making you try to avoid ogling over the sight of his chain dangling above his burly chest.

you don't bother tossing a sarcastic comment back, instead choosing to yank his neck down to sink your teeth into it. you felt a rush of pleasure from the sound that you pulled out of him, taking your time to lave your tongue over the same spot to soothe it.

wonwoo allows himself to enjoy your rough actions for a second before bringing a hand up to wrap around your neck, forcing your head back down against the couch. he makes direct eye contact with you, noting how your eyes are darkened with the same aura that swirled within his, his signature smirk stretching back across his face as he tightened his grip.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, wonwoo's long fingers keeping any sound you could have made from escaping. you bring your hands around his forearm and hike your legs back around his slender waist, obsessed with feeling as much of him at once as you can. your mind was just about to go fully blank, reaching that dangerous zone of euphoria right as wonwoo stole yet another tantalizing kiss from you, completely overriding your senses.

and you just let him have it all, whatever he wanted. it felt so good letting him take it like this however he saw fit.

he ground his hips against yours, letting you feel your bare bottom half rub against the soft material of his sweats - just to push you that extra step further into desperation. eventually, you could tell wonwoo was proud enough of himself to move on, seeing as he'd gotten you to the peak of submission that he aimed for.

he released your neck and freed your lips for just a moment as he leaned up to his knees, urgently dragging his pants down. he locked eyes with you just to watch the expression on your face when your gaze dropped down to his cock, stood at full attention and throbbing with the need of friction. no matter how many times you'd seen and taken his cock, his girth would shock you every single time.

"still not used to it, are you, baby boy?" wonwoo teased, reaching out to leave a gentle but degrading flick against your own cock.

he often made jokes about the drastic difference your sizes to piss you off, and while you did get defensive it was impossible to deny the truth to the statements - he was packing a monster under those slacks, and you wanted it more than ever right now.

the ever-so-attentive boyfriend that he was, wonwoo read your mind. with a speed that you were eternally grateful for, the now naked man grabbed a bottle of lube conveniently from the drawer beside the couch. he made sure to lathe your fluttering hole in however much he felt necessary before finally giving you his torso's warmth once more, leaning over you while hiking your leg up and over his shoulder.

you moaned feeling the stretch in your leg combined with wonwoo's dick prodding against your hole, his lips smothering your face with wet kisses as a warning before he began pushing into you.

bliss always came so quickly with wonwoo, especially when the atmosphere was heated with the pretense of aggravated lust as it was now. the deep rolls of his hips had you clamping your hand over your mouth to keep any obnoxious mewls in, although the action was practically useless with how they were slipping out anyways. not that wonwoo minded, his head just growing bigger with how good he knew he was fucking you.

"oh my god, i think i'm already close, wonu-" you groaned, holding onto his goosebumped skin like a vice.

"already?" he teased, leaning down to nibble along your collarbone. "you must've really fucking missed me, i knew you did."

you simply dug your blunt nails into his shoulder blade in response, him returning the favor by gripping your thigh with bruising strength. the grinding of his hips doubled in speed, bottoming out in you repeatedly until beads of sweat began tracing both of your foreheads.

wonwoo sucked one more mark onto your chest for good measure, and left another loud smooch on your cheek before dipping his tongue back into your whiny mouth. the barrage of sensations was enough for you to be hurdled towards your climax. you couldn't get a singular word out as white overtook your vision, ejaculating all over wonwoo's perfect porcelain chest.

he groaned loudly in pleasure. the feeling of your arousal dripping down to his abs caused his hips to stutter before he sheathed fully inside you, shooting his cum into you as well.

both of your hips slowed into a rhythmic pace, still chasing the highs of your orgasms until all limbs went weak and wonwoo was pulling out. you simply laid still in the sticky bliss, running your hands along his glistening skin while he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

"i love you," is what he muttered while basking in your scent.

"i love you too, woo."

your mouth remained ajar to speak more on your predicament, but refrained. if you were being honest, you knew that neither of you gave a damn right now. you could just start over tomorrow.

so, you hadn't quite listened to the therapist's advice... your body was buzzing with thanks that you didn't.

#kpop x male reader #wonwoo x male reader #kpop smut #svt x male reader #male reader smut #kpop male reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #svt male reader #wonwoo x reader #svt x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop lgbtq

163 notes · View notes

myonexox · 3 days ago

Text

THE LITTLE THINGS THAT MATTER

pairing : childhood best friend!sunghoon x female!reader

genre : romance, fluff, slow burn, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, childhood friends au, idiots in love

synopsis : two childhood best friends, you and sunghoon, who secretly like each other but are too afraid to confess. as you spend time together, you start to notice the little things, the small gestures that show how much you truly care for each other. in the end, you both realize that love isn’t just about big moments but the little things that matter most

word count : 4.7k

now playing : xo (only if you say yes) by enhypen (i was listening to this song the whole time while writing. it has that whole falling in love vibe, you know? and the lyrics kinda remind me of sunghoon. the way the song tells a story about a boy who’s willing to do anything for the person he loves, it’s literally him. so yeah, i highly recommend listening to it as you read)

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

you had been in love with your childhood best friend, sunghoon, for years. you didn’t know when exactly the feeling had settled into your heart. maybe it had always been there, waiting for you to acknowledge it. but you remembered everything about how your story with him began.

it started when you were five years old. the neighborhood park was your favorite place and it was where you met him for the first time. you were trying to reach for a butterfly, standing on your tiptoes on the playground slide when you lost your balance and nearly tumbled down. just before you could fall, a small hand caught yours. it was him. a boy with curious eyes looking at you with concern.

“are you okay?” he had asked, tilting his head.

you nodded, embarrassed. “i was trying to catch the butterfly”

he looked up at the sky where the butterfly had already flown away then back at you. “i can help next time”

that was the beginning.

from that day on, you and sunghoon were inseparable. your mothers were friends which meant playdates, matching outfits and meals together. he became the boy who always waited for you outside your house and who walked beside you every time you went to the park.

every day was an adventure. you would race each other down the street, only for him to slow down at the last second and let you win. you built sandcastles at the park even though they always collapsed because neither of you knew how to make them strong. you picked dandelions together and made wishes.

and he was always there for you. when you scraped your knee, he was the one who rushed to find a bandaid. when the neighborhood kids refused to let you play in their pretend castle, he declared that he would build a bigger one just for you. and he did, using pillows and blankets in your living room. when you got sick, he would draw silly doodles on get-well cards, slipping them under your door so you wouldn’t feel lonely.

as you both grew older, your adventures changed but your bond didn’t. elementary school was all about trading lunch, sitting next to each other in class and sharing little secrets. you helped him with his homework when he got stuck and he shielded you from the teacher’s scolding when you forgot yours. during school field trips, he always saved you a seat next to him and whenever you had to partner up for assignments, you didn’t even need to ask, it was just a given that you and sunghoon were a team. even during recess, while other kids formed new friendships, you and sunghoon remained a pair, always finding your way back to each other.

middle school came and with it, the awkward years. he hit his growth spurt earlier than you, towering over you one day when just the week before, you had been the same height. his voice started to change, deepening slightly and you couldn’t ignore how other girls started to notice him. you told yourself it didn’t matter. you were his best friend and that was all there was to it.

but then came the small moments that made your heart stutter. like when he slung his arm around your shoulder so casually. like when he leaned down just to meet your eyes. like when he always seemed to notice the tiniest details about you. when you were sad, when you were tired, when you needed someone to cheer you up. he always knew. he always listened.

you should have known then. but you didn’t, not yet.

it wasn’t until high school that realization truly hit you. the first time you saw him in his uniform, looking taller and more mature, your heart did something weird in your chest. you tried to ignore it. you told yourself it was just because you weren’t used to seeing him like that.

but then there was the way he treated you, different but not in a bad way. he had always been protective of you but in high school, it became more obvious. if someone made you uncomfortable, he was there in an instant, his presence alone enough to make them back off. if you were carrying something heavy, he took it from you without a word. and when you got sick, he showed up at your house with medicine and your favorite snacks.

then there were the times when he looked at you, like really looked at you. like the time you got dressed up for a school event and when you stepped out, his breath hitched just slightly before he smiled at you. like the time you fell asleep on the bus during a school trip and he let you rest your head on his shoulder, not moving an inch the entire ride. like the time he whispered your name, just your name but it made your heart feel so full you thought it might burst.

it was a million little things.

you realized it when he defended you from a senior who spoke to you rudely. you realized it when he remembered things about you that even you had forgotten. and you realized it when he ran to your house in the rain because he knew you were upset and needed someone and that someone was always him.

and one day, you couldn’t deny it anymore. you were in love with sunghoon. you were in love with your childhood best friend.

but you never told him. because what if he didn’t feel the same? what if you ruined everything? he was your best friend, the person who had been with you through every moment of your life. if you confessed and he didn’t like you back, would things change? would he start avoiding you? would you lose him completely?

so you decided to stay quiet. you told yourself it was better this way. you would rather love him in silence than risk losing him forever.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

saturday arrived and as planned, you made your way to sunghoon’s house for your study session. it was something you both had promised to do earlier in the week, knowing that your math test was coming up on wednesday. sunghoon had never been the biggest fan of studying but with enough convincing, you managed to get him to agree. you rang the doorbell and waited for a few moments before the door swung open, revealing him in a casual hoodie and sweatpants, his hair slightly messy as if he had just woken up from a nap.

“you’re here” he said with a grin, stepping aside to let you in.

“of course i am. you think i’d let you slack off before our test?” you teased, slipping off your shoes at the entrance.

he let out a dramatic sigh. “i was hoping you’d forget”

you chuckled. “you wish”

his parents weren’t home. they had gone out for the day to visit some relatives in another city. it wasn’t the first time you had been over when they weren’t around and you were comfortable enough in their home that it didn’t feel awkward in the slightest. you followed him upstairs to his room. his desk was already set up with textbooks, notebooks and a couple of pens.

for the next few hours, the two of you went over equations, formulas and problem-solving techniques. sunghoon, true to his nature, grumbled every now and then but he still managed to focus for the most part. you explained concepts to him whenever he got stuck, watching as his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. every so often, he would lean back in his chair, stretching his arms with an exaggerated groan before throwing you a look that practically screamed ‘i’m suffering.’

eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he slumped forward onto his desk, groaning loudly. “ugh, i can’t take it anymore. my brain is officially fried”

you looked up from your notes, smiling slightly. “come on, we’ve only been studying for—” you glanced at the clock. “okay, maybe we have been at it for a while. i didn't notice it”

“exactly” he muttered, lifting his head slightly to look at you. “we need a break. if we keep going, my brain is going to melt and i’m going to blame you for it”

you laughed. “alright, fine. you have a point. we can’t afford to burn out before the actual test, right?”

he immediately perked up. “great! let’s go downstairs and watch a movie or something”

you didn’t object. honestly, you could use the break too. packing away your books, you followed him out of his room and down the stairs. as you stepped into the living room, he gestured toward the couch. “you pick the movie first. i’ll go grab some snacks for us”

that was another thing about him. he never picked the movie. not even once. you had asked him before why he always made you choose and he said, “i like everything you like.” at the time, you hadn’t thought much of it but now, it made your heart flutter whenever you remembered it.

settling onto the couch, you scrolled through the movie options, your choice already obvious. horror was your favorite genre and sunghoon, despite his complaints that you always picked scary movies, never objected. he always watched them with you even when he claimed he didn’t like them. smiling to yourself, you selected a horror film and waited for him to return.

a few minutes later, he came back with his arms full of chips, popcorn, candy and a couple of soda cans. he dumped them onto the coffee table before flopping onto the couch beside you. “you picked horror, didn’t you?”

you smiled, raising an eyebrow. “how do you know?”

he let out an exaggerated sigh but grabbed a handful of popcorn anyway. “of course i know. but if i get nightmares, you’re responsible”

“you never get nightmares”

“you don’t know that”

laughing, you pressed play and the movie began. the two of you settled in, munching on snacks as eerie music filled the room. as the movie progressed, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him every now and then.

by the time the credits rolled, the sky outside had started to darken. you sighed, stretching your arms as you realized how much time had passed. “i should probably head home before it gets too late”

he nodded, still watching the screen as the last of the credits played. you reached into your pocket for your phone, intending to check the time but your hand came up empty. frowning, you patted your other pocket. still nothing.

“hey, did you see my phone?” you asked, glancing at sunghoon.

he turned to you, eyebrows furrowed. “hm?”

“my phone. did you see it?” you repeated.

“wasn’t it with you?”

you shook your head. “i thought so but it’s not in my pocket”

the two of you began searching around the couch, pushing aside pillows and shifting through the pile of snacks but your phone was nowhere to be found.

“maybe you left it upstairs when we were studying?” he suggested, already moving to stand up. “wait here, let me get it for you”

you waved him off. “it’s okay i’ll get it myself”

“okay” he said.

you made your way back upstairs to his room. sure enough, your phone was sitting right on his bed, exactly where you must have left it earlier. picking it up, you checked the time. 6 pm. definitely time to head home.

but when you were about to walk out, your eyes caught something unusual. a unique notebook lay next to sunghoon’s pillow, one you had never seen before. it was different from his school notebooks, the ones he used for studying. this one had a leather cover, slightly worn at the edges as if it had been used frequently. your curiosity spiked instantly.

you hesitated, looking toward the door to make sure sunghoon wasn’t there. taking a deep breath, you slowly climbed onto his bed and reached for the notebook, settling on the edge of the bed as you held the book in your hands.

you knew this was wrong. you knew you shouldn’t take it or open it. even though he was your best friend, you still had no right to read his diary. it was his personal stuff and you should have respected his privacy. but you were curious. it killed you and you just knew that you would never stop thinking about it once you got home if you didn’t at least take a peek.

you sighed, running your fingers over the cover before hesitantly opening the book.

“i’m sorry sunghoon” you whispered to yourself.

your mind told you to be sane, to close it and walk out but your heart screamed at you to open it and read. and since you were an F in your mbti, you tended to follow your feelings more. so you decided to choose your heart.

it would be fine. right? you were only going to read one or two pages and then stop. you promised yourself. then you opened it.

the first page was written with a title “things i love about her”

you frowned. who was ‘her’? did he like someone? at school? how come he never told you anything? your mind raced with a million thoughts. but you pushed them aside and turned to the next page.

the second page was titled “my best friend”

you froze. your eyes widened. about... you? wait. why would he even write anything about you? and you were his only best friend. or… did he has another best friend?

you flipped to the next page, eyes scanning the date written at the top. it was from your first year of high school. you and sunghoon were seniors now.

page after page, you kept flipping even though you told yourself to stop. but the more you read, the more impossible it became to stop.

1 : her kind heart

i remember the day we found that stray cat on the way home. it was raining and she didn’t even hesitate to run under the pouring sky to rescue it. we were completely drenched, our uniform sticking to our skin, our shoes soaked with mud but she didn’t care at all. she held that tiny kitten against her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world.

i told her she was crazy but she just laughed, hugging the kitten even closer.

“sunghoon, it was cold and scared. what was i supposed to do, leave it there?” she had said.

then she kept it for a week before finding a proper home for it. but every single day, she fed it, cared for it, loved it. that’s the kind of person she is. selfless. kind. beautiful.

she doesn't realize it but she makes the world softer and better just by being in it.

i remember the way she cried when she had to give the kitten away. she tried to hide it but i saw, y/n. i saw how much you cared. how much you love even the smallest things.

i wonder if she knows how much i love her for it.

2 : her sense of humor

she laughs at the dumbest jokes. and i mean 'the dumbest'.

one time, i dropped my pen in class and groaned because it rolled under someone’s chair. then she whispered “that pen just wanted to be free”

i gave her a look but she was already laughing. her hands covering her face as she tried (and failed) to muffle the sound. and just like that, i laughed too. because her laughter is infectious. it spreads like wildfire, igniting everyone around her.

she has a way of making things feel lighter even when everything feels heavy.

i could listen to her laugh forever.

3 : her intelligence and determination

i hate studying. she loves it.

she’s always been so determined to do well, always pushing herself to be better. when i get lazy, she drags me back in. when i say i can’t do it, she proves that i can.

“you’re not dumb, sunghoon. you just don’t try”

maybe she’s right. maybe i don’t try enough. but she does. and i admire that more than she knows.

i’ve never told her but i love watching her study. the way her brows furrow in concentration, the way she bites her lip when she’s deep in thought. it’s fascinating.

4 : her smile and laugh

i wish i could record it. just once.

her laughter. her smile. the way her eyes crinkle at the corners, the way her lips curl just before she bursts into giggles.

if i had that recording, i’d listen to it every night before i sleep. because nothing else in the world sounds as beautiful as she does.

5 : the way she talks

she talks a lot.

but i never mind. not even once.

her voice is... so calming. she makes talking easy even when i don’t know what to say. she makes silence feel comfortable. i think that’s rare.

i could listen to her talk everyday, endlessly. she never runs out of things to say and somehow, i never get tired of hearing them. she makes even the simplest stories sound like something worth listening to. i could sit next to her forever, just listening.

6 : her hair

she always complains about her hair.

“my bangs aren’t cooperating today”

“i should’ve tied it up”

but i don’t see what she sees. i see sunlight catching in her strands, the way they sway when she moves, the way she tucks them behind her ear.

i like it. i like her...

7 : her beautiful eyes

i could stare at them forever. not in a creepy way (okay, maybe a little creepy). but they hold so much. i don't know how to explain it. but whenever she looks at me, i can never look away no matter how hard i try.

her eyes... they're just so beautiful.

i don’t think words could ever describe how much i love them. i could get lost in them for hours.

no, her eyes aren’t just beautiful. they’re everything.

8 : her adventurous soul

since we were kids, she’s always been the one to drag me into trouble. climbing trees. exploring abandoned buildings. running through the rain without an umbrella just for the thrill of it.

she hasn’t changed til now. and i like that she hasn’t.

she still pushes me out of my comfort zone, still drags me along to do things i’d probably never consider on my own.

i used to complain about it. about how reckless she was, about how she never thought things through. but i think, deep down, i’ve always liked that about her. i like the way she throws herself into life so fearlessly. i like the way she makes the ordinary feel exciting.

and... i like that she’s never stopped pulling me along with her.

the next pages were filled with even more things. you swallowed hard. this wasn’t just a diary. this was a collection of every little thing he loved about you.

your heart pounded. what was this? why would he write something like this?

you shouldn’t have read it in the first place. but you did. and now, you could never unsee it. you were... confused.

you held onto the notebook, your mind reeling from what you had just read. every small detail about you, things you never even thought he noticed... he had written it all down. the way you laughed, the way you talked, even the way you tucked your hair behind your ear. he noticed everything.

but why?

before you could gather your thoughts, a voice snapped you out of your trance.

“hey, what’s taking you so long?”

you jumped, your eyes widening as you turned around to see sunghoon standing by the door. but then his gaze dropped to the notebook in your hands and his entire body stiffened. his eyes widened in panic before he strode forward in urgency.

“wait, no—”

before you could react, he reached for the book and snatched it away from your hands, gripping it tightly as if his life depended on it.

“why… why do you read this?” his voice came out weak, almost vulnerable, something you had never heard before from him.

but instead of answering, you asked the question that was burning inside you. “why did you write it?”

he sucked in a sharp breath. he was at a loss for words. he wanted to lie, to make up some excuse, to tell you that it was nothing but he knew there was no way he could do it. you had already read part of it. there was no turning back now.

so in a desperate attempt to shift the subject, he repeated “why do you read this? this is my book. you can’t just take and open something that belongs to me. it’s my privacy”

but you ignored his protests, your eyes locking onto his. “tell me! why would you write something like that about me?”

silence.

a deep sigh escaped his lips before he finally muttered “are you stupid or what?”

your brows knitted together in confusion. “what?”

internally, sunghoon was screaming. his heart was hammering inside his chest and his mind was a chaotic mess. how was he supposed to explain this? how was he supposed to tell you everything he had kept hidden for so long?

he never meant for you to find out this way. in fact, he never meant for you to find out at all. but now that you had, he had no choice but to be honest.

he felt like everything had turned upside down, like all the secrets he had tried to hide were suddenly being revealed. the way you looked at him now, confused, searching, waiting for answers made his chest tighten. he had spent so long keeping his feelings under lock and key, convincing himself that it was better this way, that it was safer if you never knew.

because the truth? he had been liking you for a long time. longer than he could even remember.

it started with the little things, the subtle glances he stole when you weren’t looking. you never noticed but his eyes always found you in a crowded room. he watched you. he had always watched you. not in a way that was meant to be creepy or anything but in the way someone admired a piece of art from afar, afraid that getting too close might ruin its beauty.

he noticed every little thing about you and god, he adored it all. most of all, he... loved you. so much.

you never realized how often he went out of his way just to be close to you. how he would adjust his pace to match yours when you walked together. how he always seemed to have your favorite snack on hand, pretending like it was just a coincidence and offered you some or gave them all to you.

how he memorized your coffee order, how he always stayed up late just to help you study and how he would make up excuses just to see you, pretending like he needed help with something when in reality, he just wanted to spend more time with you.

but you never noticed. and maybe that was for the best. because no matter how much he wanted to tell you, he was afraid. just like you, he was afraid that if he told you the truth, it would ruin everything. afraid that if you didn’t feel the same, your friendship would crumble and he would lose you completely. and losing you? that was the one thing he could never bear.

so he kept quiet. he buried his feelings deep, convincing himself that as long as he could stay by your side, that was more than enough. that he could live with the ache in his chest as long as he got to see you smile, as long as he got to hear your voice, as long as he could keep talking to you.

but now, standing here with you looking at him like that, he knew there was no more running away from the truth. it was out in the open now. and there was nothing he could do but finally, finally let his heart speak.

taking a deep breath, he finally spoke. “i’ve been liking you— no, loving you since... i don’t even know when”

your heart stopped.

he looked down at the notebook in his hands, his fingers tightening around it. “at first, i wrote this diary out of boredom. when i didn’t know what to do, i wrote it because you were my best friend. the closest person to me. who else would i write about? i was with you all the time and you were the one i always admired, the one i always looked at so i couldn’t help but write about you”

he let out a bitter chuckle. “but i didn’t realize that all i had been doing wasn’t because you were just my best friend. it was because you were more than that. it took me long enough to understand it too”

he finally looked at you. “but if you don’t like me back, i understand. really, i do. i won’t force you to feel the same way. i just... i just needed to say it because i couldn’t keep it in anymore” he paused then continued “if you don’t feel the same way, we can just forget this ever happened. i don’t want to lose you so we can just pretend i never said anything and—”

“sunghoon” you cut him off. you took a deep breath, your own emotions bubbling to the surface. “i like you too”

his eyes widened in shock. “what?”

“i like you too sunghoon. no, scratch that. i love you... too”

he stared at you, utterly speechless.

“i don’t even know when it started...” you continued “maybe it was when you walked me home every day and you didn't even complain about it. maybe it was when you always saved the last piece of my favorite snack for me even when you wanted it too. maybe it was when you stayed up all night helping me study even though you hated studying yourself. or maybe it was... when i realized that no matter what happened, you were always there for me. no matter how much i pushed you away, no matter how much i annoyed you, you never left. you were always there, sunghoon. and i think... i think that’s when i knew i loved you”

silence stretched between you. then he let out a small, breathless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “we’re both idiots, aren’t we? how come we never noticed it before?”

you nodded with a smile on your lips. “yeah, the biggest ones”

a soft chuckle escaped him before he finally sat down next to you. “so... does this mean you’re mine now?” he asked teasingly.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “i’ve always been yours, idiot”

his lips curled into a soft smile. and in that moment, you knew, this was it. this was where you belonged. with him.

then he suddenly pulled you closer. “if you’ve always been mine” he whispered “then that means i get to do this”

before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss on your lips making your breath hitch. you stared at him as he pulled away, stunned while he simply grinned.

“you’re ridiculous” you muttered though you couldn’t hide your smile.

“and you love me for it”

you sighed dramatically. “unfortunately”

he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug. “we really are idiots”

you nuzzled into his warmth, feeling your heart swell with joy. “yeah but at least we’re idiots together”

you couldn’t believe it. park sunghoon, your childhood best friend, the boy who had been by your side since you were little, the person you had been silently in love with for years felt the same way.

he had loved you too, all this time in the quiet ways you never noticed. he had spent years convincing himself that what he felt was one-sided, that confessing would ruin everything. but now, knowing that you loved him back, it felt like the weight he had been carrying for so long had finally lifted.

how many moments had he spent looking at you, memorizing every little detail, cherishing the time he had with you even if you never saw him the same way? and how many times had you caught yourself staring at him, wondering if he could ever look at you as more than just his best friend? it was funny, really. you both spent so much time worrying, overthinking, assuming the worst when in reality, you had always belonged to each other.

and you knew, in the end, it wasn’t the grand gestures or dramatic confessions that mattered most. it was these little things. the moments that seemed insignificant at the time but built something stronger than either of you had realized. the way love wasn’t just in the words spoken but in the actions that had been there all along.

the little things that matter...

#enhypen #park sunghoon #sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen fluff #sunghoon fluff #fluff #enhypen fic #sunghoon fic #best friends to lovers #slow burn #mutual pining #idiots in love #childhood friends au #enhypen imagines #sunghoon imagines

247 notes · View notes

romerona · 3 days ago

Text

The Swan Princess; Westeros Version.

The Targaryen Princess is the younger sister of Rhaenyra and the second daughter of King Viserys and the late Queen Aemma x Lord Cregan Stark in a dynamic inspired by The Swan Princess.

Viserys and Rickon Stark arrange for the princess and Cregan to be wed once she comes of age. To build familiarity, they reunite them every few years (a rare moment of decency among men in House of the Dragon, but let's roll with it). However, from a young age, they absolutely despise each other, a classic love-hate relationship.

Young fem Targ reader x young Cregan Stark.

Warnings: lost in woods, dragon fire. You are a bit bratty in this one.

The chill in the air was a far cry from the warmth of Kingslanding, but you hardly minded. The North had its own beauty—the towering pines, the crisp scent of the wind, the distant howl of wolves echoing across the hills. If only the company were as pleasant.

The festivities stretched before you in a blur of movement and laughter, the crackling of firewood and the clinking of tankards creating a raucous melody that grated upon your nerves. You sat at the farthest edge of the gathering, wrapped in a thick cloak lined with white fur, though no amount of warmth could temper the chill in your mood. Your hands remained tightly clasped in your lap, knuckles whitening as you scowled at the merriment before you. It had been your father’s insistence that forced you here—his decree that you must attend, that you must partake in the evening’s revelry.

Worse still, the most grave offence of all, he had instructed you to keep company with Cregan Stark.

Even now, years removed from the infamous cake incident at Aemond’s name day, your sentiments toward the northern boy had remained unchanged. He was still insufferable, still brooding, still insistent upon his wolfish ways as though they were some grand virtue to be admired. And yet, despite all of this, it was not his pride, nor his demeanor, nor even the air of quiet confidence he carried that vexed you most.

No, what was truly infuriating—what you found to be utterly offensive—was the fact that he had the audacity to ignore you.

You had been placed at his side, compelled to endure his presence, forced into this wretched arrangement for the sake of courtesy, and yet, rather than offer you the same indignity in return, he had simply dismissed you. The moment his friends arrived, he had risen without so much as a word, without even the pretence of obligation, and left you to fester in solitude.

He stood now near the firepit, surrounded by a group of northern boys, all older, taller—men who had long since begun their training. Their laughter came in low, rumbling tones, mingling with the scent of burning wood and roasted meat, and though you could not make out his words, Cregan spoke amongst them with ease, his presence welcomed.

You had not seen him in years, and yet you could not deny that he had grown, shoulders broader than before, height now eclipsing most boys of his age. Even his curls, dark and unruly as they had always been, seemed somehow thicker, falling slightly over his brow as he laughed—laughed, as though there was nothing amiss, as though your presence here was of no consequence to him.

Your jaw tightened as you tore your gaze away, huffing in frustration. You would not look at him any longer. You would not care. You were now ignoring him. And yet, your glare turns back at him each time you hear his laugh.

Aegon’s voice cut through your silent brooding, the young prince’s ever-curious eyes fixed upon you with unabashed intrigue. “Why do you glare so?”

You barely turned your head, already knowing who it was. Your younger brother was only a few years your junior, yet he clung to your side like a shadow, a lost pup who had long since decided you were the only one worthy of following.

“I do not glare,” you muttered, though the way your lips curled and your brows furrowed likely told a different story.

Aegon tilted his head, considering you with the sharp, unfiltered perception of youth. “You do. You look as though you wish to set Lord Stark aflame, dear sister.”

You huffed, arms crossing over your chest as you tore your gaze away from Cregan.

"He was commanded to keep me company," you grumbled, voice laced with frustration. "Yet he acts as though I am naught but air. A mere ghost to be disregarded at his leisure."

Aegon made a small sound of contemplation, his expression screwing up as he pondered your words. “Why would you wish for that brute’s company when you have mine?”

His words, meant in earnest, only deepened your scowl. You did not wish for Cregan’s company—not truly. You did not long for his attention, nor did you crave his words. And yet, it was the principle of the matter. You had been made to sit with him, and now he had left you, wholly unbothered, wholly unconcerned by your absence.

Aegon followed your gaze toward the firepit, where Cregan remained engrossed in his conversation, unaware—or perhaps entirely indifferent—to your displeasure. The young prince pursed his lips, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he surveyed the tall boy by the fire. Then, with a small shrug, he turned back to you, his expression equal parts mischievous and concerned. “Truly, sister, if it vexes you so, why pay him any heed at all?”

Your fingers curled into the plush fabric of your cloak, your jaw tightening. Because it was he who had been told to keep you company. Because it was he who should have felt the burden of obligation. And yet, here you sat, the only one who seemed to care at all.

If Cregan Stark would not give you his attention willingly, then you would seize it for yourself.

With a suddenness that startled even Aegon, you rose from your seat, gathering your cloak about you with deliberate precision. The prince started to trail after you both, but you shot him a glare.

“Stay.”

Your steps were swift and sure as you strode toward the firepit, your chin lifted in quiet defiance. The group of northern boys remained deep in conversation, their voices low and unhurried, wholly unaware of the storm descending upon them.

As you came to stand beside him, the lords and boys surrounding Cregan quickly straightened, some bowing their heads in deference to your presence. You, however, afforded them no such courtesy, your lilac eyes fixed solely on the one who had so rudely dismissed you.

Cregan barely spared you a glance. “Princess.”

The half-hearted greeting made your blood simmer. You bristled, tilting your chin higher. “Lord Stark.”

And then—nothing. No further acknowledgement. No shift in posture or interest. Cregan merely turned back to his friends, as if you were no more than a passing breeze.

Your fingers curled at your sides. How dare he?

You cleared your throat, tilting your head with measured patience. “You were tasked with keeping me company, were you not?”

Cregan exhaled through his nose, the sound heavy with exasperation, before finally turning his full attention to you. “Aye.”

“Yet here you are, neglecting your duty,” you remarked, eyes narrowing.

A sharp snicker rang out from one of the northern boys, earning him a withering look from Cregan before the lord’s gaze returned to you. “I did not think you cared for my company.”

“I do not,” you answered swiftly, folding your arms across your chest. “But if I must endure yours, then it is only fair you endure mine.”

Another laugh, low and knowing, rippled through the group. One of the taller boys clapped Cregan on the shoulder, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’ve been summoned, Lord Stark.”

Cregan groaned, dragging a hand down his face as though praying for patience. Then, with great reluctance, he turned fully to you, his stance shifting from stubborn resistance to resigned duty. “And what is it you wish to do, Princess?”

You smirked, pleased to have drawn him from his indifference. “Something more interesting than standing around talking about whatever it is northerner boys talk about.”

Cregan studied you for a long, silent moment, as though weighing the depth of your mischief. Then, with a slow exhale, he gave a small shake of his head. “Fine.”

Turning to his friends, he gave a nod toward the woods. “I’ll be back.”

One of the older boys scoffed, his lips curling around the rim of his cup as he slurred, “Truly? You’d leave us for the spoilt princess?”

A silence fell over the group. A heavy, expectant silence.

The moment the words left his wine-soaked lips, the others stiffened, some even taking a wary step back. The drunken fool clearly did not yet realize his mistake, but they did.

You were no mere noblewoman to be dismissed with a careless insult.

The beloved pearl of the Seven Kingdoms, cherished not only by your father, the King but by all who saw you as the living embodiment of Targaryen's grace and beauty. A girl born of fire and blood, as regal as she was untouchable.

And yet, this boy—this fool—had dared speak of you so carelessly.

“A spoilt princess, am I?” you mused, your tone dangerously even.

Your lilac eyes narrowed, the firelight casting an eerie glow across your sharp features. Though you were years younger, though you stood two heads shorter, you advanced without hesitation, your steps measured, deliberate, until you were close enough to look up at the fool who had so carelessly spoken.

The silence was suffocating.

The boy, for all his bravado, swayed slightly, the haze of wine doing little to shield him from the weight of your gaze. The others watched, rigid as stone, none daring to intervene.

Then, after a long pause, you smiled. It was not kind.

It was the smile of a dragon before it struck. The smile of a queen before she passed judgment. The kind of smile that sent men to their knees in fear rather than admiration.

The boy swallowed thickly, his drunken haze evaporating beneath the weight of your presence.

“Well?” you asked, your voice quiet but carrying effortlessly over the crackling flames. “Do speak plainly, my lord. I would so love to hear what else you think of me.”

The drunken fool licked his lips, throat bobbing as he tried to summon some semblance of wit. “I meant no—”

“You meant,” you interrupted smoothly, taking another deliberate step forward, “to insult me.”

He flinched.

“Or was it my father you sought to offend?” Your voice remained sweet, but the question was anything but. “Perhaps my mother’s memory? My House?”

The boy visibly shrank beneath your gaze, as though the very air had grown heavier. He looked to Cregan, then to his companions, seeking an escape, but none would meet his eye. Smart of them.

He opened his mouth, no doubt to stammer some pathetic attempt at an apology, but before he could, Cregan finally moved.

A heavy hand clamped down on the fool’s shoulder, forcing him to bow slightly under its weight. The pressure was not enough to harm, but it was a warning—a silent command that made the onlookers still, their laughter long since faded into tense silence.

“I believe you’ve had too much wine, Beron,” Cregan said evenly, though there was no mistaking the quiet steel in his voice. “Best you retire before you make an even greater fool of yourself.”

Beron, now pale as freshly fallen snow, swallowed hard. His bravado, so apparent mere moments ago, had fled entirely. With a stiff nod, he stepped back, avoiding your gaze as though even looking at you would seal his doom.

You watched him go, the smirk that ghosted across your lips a silent testament to your satisfaction. Yet when you turned back to Cregan, whatever fleeting amusement you held vanished in an instant, replaced once more by the simmering irritation that had plagued you all evening.

Your lilac eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him as though his very presence was an affront, as though you were still deciding whether he was just as insufferable as the fool you had just put in his place. Then, with your chin lifted in a haughty display of royal indignation, you turned sharply on your heel, your cloak billowing behind you as you huffed and stalked away.

Cregan exhaled, long and weary, dragging a rough hand down his face before shaking his head.

“Seven hells,” he muttered under his breath, before striding after you. It seemed, despite his better judgment, that the wolf had no choice but to follow where the dragon led.

Cregan Stark prided himself on his patience.

It was expected of him as his father’s heir, a virtue drilled into him through endless lessons of duty and restraint. The North was not a place for rash tempers or childish squabbles. A Stark must be measured, composed, and above all, steady as the winter itself—the blood of the First Men ran through his veins, and wolves did not rise to petty bait.

And yet—yet—every time he was forced into your company, that patience unravelled thread by thread.

"Is that how you always spend your time?" you asked, voice laced with disdain as you pulled your cloak tighter around you. The cold bit at your skin, but your words were sharper still. "Standing about like a pack of hounds, waiting for scraps?"

Cregan inhaled sharply, his broad shoulders rising and falling in slow, measured restraint. Do not rise to it, he told himself. He had learned your ways over the years, how you delighted in needling him, in picking at his patience like a raven pecking at carrion.

He exhaled through his nose, his expression carefully schooled into neutrality. "We speak of things that matter, Princess. Not childish games."

You tilted your head, the firelight catching in the silver strands of your braided hair. A picture of innocence—if one ignored the glint in your lilac eyes, the one that spoke of mischief, of provocation.

"Oh, I see," you murmured, voice rich with mock understanding. "Of course. You and your very important northern discussions."

Your lips curled, and then you added, as light as silk, "Please, you are raised in ice, you drink only ale, and you spend your days rolling about in the mud like dogs. No wonder you all behave like them."

Cregan’s jaw tightened.

He had sworn to himself—no, he swore to his father—that he would not let you get a rise out of him tonight. That he would be the proper lord, ever respectful, ever unshaken. That he would not let himself be drawn into yet another one of your endless games.

Still, his jaw tensed as he shot you a look. “You claim we are dogs, Princess, yet you stand before our fire, eating from our table, taking from our land. Tell me, which of us is truly the hound?”

Your lilac eyes flashed—not anger, but amusement. And that infuriated him more than anything.

You stepped closer, your perfume—something warm and spiced—reaching his nose. “Clever, almost.”

Cregan hated the way his pulse quickened, just slightly. He hated the way you spoke to him, like he was still a child playing at being a man. He hated the way you always—always—knew exactly how to get under his skin.

He exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to remain composed. But that wasn’t enough. He needed to wipe that insufferable smirk from your face.

And then an idea struck him.

So, he did the only thing he could. He smirked. “Perhaps, Princess, you would rather see something truly northern? Something worthy of your oh-so-refined tastes?”

Your brow lifted, intrigue flashing across your face. “And what could a northern brute possibly have that would interest me?”

Cregan let his smirk widen, taking a step back. “Have you ever seen a direwolf?”

Your interest was immediate. “A direwolf?”

“Aye. There are dire wolves in these woods," he said smoothly, watching you carefully. "I know where a litter has been whelped, I can take you if you wish.”

Your posture stiffened, your lips parting slightly before pressing into a thin line. Then— “Truly?”

He shrugged, his voice even. “Do you doubt my word?”

You hesitated, shifting on your feet. "I have heard the North’s wolves are fearsome things, the size of horses.”

“They are,” he agreed smoothly, “but I thought a daughter of the dragon would not be afraid of such creatures.”

Your lilac eyes burned with indignation. “I am not afraid.”

Cregan tilted his head. “Then let us see, shall we?”

He should have felt guilty.

Should have.

But as he returned to his friends, leaving you in the depths of the woods, he found himself feeling nothing but satisfaction.

You had followed him eagerly, your irritation at the feast long forgotten in your excitement to see a direwolf. He had led you deep into the forest, far from the warmth of the fire, far enough that the trees blocked out most of the moonlight.

And then, at the perfect moment, he had stepped behind a tree—and vanished.

You had called his name at first, your voice carrying through the trees with only the rustling of the leaves to answer you. Then came the frustration.

“Cregan Stark, if this is some jape, I swear to all gods!”

There was a pause. Then the crunch of leaves as you turned in place, the sharp inhale of breath when you realized you were alone.

“Cregan, this is not amusing,” you called, irritation creeping into your voice.

Oh, but it was amusing.

Cregan remained just out of sight, arms crossed over his chest, watching. He would let you sit with your own pride for a little while. Let you feel what it was like to be dismissed, to be toyed with. It was not cruel, not truly—he knew exactly where you were. You would be fine. And if this humbled you even a little, then perhaps it would be worth the scolding he would inevitably receive.

So he left. He had walked back leisurely, even laughing under his breath as he rejoined the gathering, pleased with himself in a way he hadn’t been in years.

It would serve you right, little dragon.

You would stomp your feet and pout, calling him every manner of insult, but he would return before long, retrieve you from whatever spot you were sulking in, and that would be the end of it.

At least, that was what should have happened.

But when people began to ask where the lovely princess had gone—when Lord Rickon turned his sharp gaze on Cregan and asked if he had seen you last—something unpleasant curled in his stomach.

His smirk faded.

Cregan made his way back to where he had left you, his steps quickening when he realized the spot was empty. No footprints in the dirt. No sign of where you had gone.

Panic seized his chest as he turned in a slow circle. “Princess?”

Nothing. His heartbeat hammered in his ears as he called your name again.

This was not how this was meant to go. You were supposed to be sitting on a fallen log, arms crossed, scowling at him when he returned. Not gone.

Cregan Stark, heir to Winterfell, had lost a Targaryen princess in the woods. And if he did not find you soon, he was as good as dead.

He swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath. You couldn’t have gone far. You were here somewhere. And the thought that you weren’t—that something had happened to you—made his stomach twist in a way he did not care to name.

You were going to kill him.

Not in the quiet, polite way of the court, with veiled insults and sharp words—no, you were going to strangle Cregan Stark with your bare hands the moment you found him... If you found him.

The forest was darker now, the thick canopy overhead blotting out the last slivers of evening light. You had walked for what felt like hours, your frustration growing with each passing moment. At first, you had been determined—This is fine. I do not need him. I’ll find my way back.

That had been before your gown had snagged on every possible branch, before you had tripped over a root and scraped your palms raw against the cold earth, before your boots had sunk into thick patches of mud that tried to swallow your steps.

Now, your breaths came sharp and quick, little clouds of mist curling before you. You swallowed against the sting behind your eyes.

Cregan Stark, you absolute vile, unwashed, brute— Had he truly left you? Had he meant for you to never return?

The realization struck like a blow, knocking the breath from your lungs. For all your confidence, for all your stubbornness, you were alone in the middle of a vast northern forest, with no sense of direction and no one to call for help.

Your throat tightened.

No. You would not cry. You would not let the woods of the north to best you.

But as you took another step forward, your foot caught on a tangle of roots, and you pitched forward, crashing onto the damp earth. This time, you did not rise.

A choked sob escaped your lips, your fingers curling into the dirt. You would die here. Your body would be found frozen in the snow, your sister would weep, your father would curse the North, and Cregan Stark—Cregan Stark—would suffer the wrath of the crown.

And yet, none of that mattered if you died here tonight.

Tears burned hot as they slipped down your cheeks, your frustration giving way to something raw—fear. You had never been alone like this before. Never without guards, without your ladies and your maids, without your father or Rhaenyra, that nuisance of your younger brother. You had always been surrounded, shielded, protected but now? Only the cold and the distant rustling of unseen creatures.

You shuddered and forced yourself to sit up, hugging your arms to your chest. The cold was beginning to seep into your bones, its sharp bite burrowing beneath your skin, turning your fingers stiff and clumsy. You clenched them into fists, willing warmth back into them, but it was no use.

If the cold did not claim you, the wolves would.

The thought sent another shiver down your spine.

You turned your head sharply, scanning the darkness between the trees, expecting to see a pair of gleaming eyes watching, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. The woods belonged to creatures far older than men—things that did not fear steel or fire.

A shiver ran down your spine, but you gritted your teeth against it, scanning the trees, your ears straining for the snap of a branch, the rustle of unseen movement.

Fear clawed its way up your throat. Was this how it ended? A Targaryen princess lost to the dark? Devoured in the woods like a nameless peasant?

Your fingers curled into fists in the tattered fabric of your dress. No.

A sudden anger filled you, pushing away the creeping terror. No. You would not sit here and weep like some helpless thing. You would not be claimed by the cold or torn apart by beasts.

You were a dragon and you refused to be brought low by wolves.

A sharp gust of wind howled through the trees, but you rose to your feet, unsteady but determined. You would find shelter. You would make it through the night, and you would see Cregan Stark’s face when you returned, standing tall, unbroken, and victorious.

With that thought burning in your chest, you pressed forward, forcing one foot in front of the other. Your body ached, exhaustion weighing on your limbs, but you did not stop. The forest stretched endlessly before you, the trees twisting and gnarled, their skeletal branches reaching toward the sky.

Then—movement. Your breath caught as you spun, your heart hammering against your ribs. Nothing, but something or someone is watching you. You could feel it.

A slow, uneasy dread settled over you, but you swallowed it down, gripping the tattered edges of your dress as you continued forward.

And then, in the distance, beneath the tangled roots, you saw it- a shadow. A large, gaping darkness ahead, half-hidden beneath the twisting roots of an ancient tree. A cave.

Relief surged through you as you stumbled toward it, slipping beneath the jagged opening. The air inside was cool but dry, the ground packed firm beneath your feet. You exhaled shakily, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The cave was deeper than you expected, the air damp, warmer than the biting cold outside, and heavy with something thick and unplaceable. Each breath you took felt weighted, as though the very air pressed against your ribs.

Something about the scent in the air struck you as familiar.

Sulfur. Ash.

It reminded you of the Dragonpit in King’s Landing, of the deep chambers where the great beasts slumbered, their breath thick with smoke and embers.

But that was absurd, there were no dragons this far to the north. You were exhausted, chilled to the bone, your mind playing tricks on you after hours spent stumbling through the wretched woods. That was all.

You took another cautious step forward, a sharp crunch echoed beneath your foot making you still.

The sound sent a shudder down your spine. It had not been the crisp snap of twigs, nor the shifting of loose stone. It had been brittle, fragile—something breaking.

Your pulse quickened, but you forced yourself to move, to push forward despite the growing weight in your chest. Then your foot struck against something hard. A rock? No...

You bent down slowly, your fingers trembling as you reached into the darkness. The surface beneath your hand was smooth, cold—curved in a way that made your breath hitch. You traced its edge, confusion swirling in your chest.

And then, as your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you saw it. Not a rock, surely not a branch, it was... a scale. A large, dark, scale gleaming faintly in the cave’s dimness.

A low rumble filled the space, vibrating through the very stone beneath you. Your blood turned cold. A slow, rolling shift of movement echoed through the cavern. Then—two massive, golden eyes blinked open.

Your breath caught in your throat as the darkness moved, no— it was not darkness.

It was something massive, curled within the cavern, its long, jagged horns scraping against the stone as it lifted its head. A deep, guttural growl reverberated through the air, rolling over you like thunder, the kind of sound that rattled deep in your bones.

Your body is locked in place.

It’s a dragon. A wild dragon.

You had never felt fear like this before.

It was not the simple fear of falling from a tree, nor the quick, fleeting terror of nearly slipping off a ledge as you climbed the castle walls. This was something deeper, something that wrapped around your chest and squeezed until your breath came in short, panicked gasps.

The dragon was massive.

Larger than any you had ever seen up close, which is a big feat since you have seen Vermithor, its coiled body filling the dark cavern like a living mountain of scale and muscle. Even in the dim light, you could see the dark ridges of its back, the curve of its wings pressed against the walls of the cave. Its tail twitched, stirring the dust at your feet, and then—

It growled.

A low, rumbling sound, deep as thunder rolling through the belly of the earth. The sound made your knees weak, made you feel small, insignificant beneath its burning golden gaze.

You stumbled back, your hands bracing against the cold stone behind you. Your breath came in ragged bursts, your mind screaming at you to run, run, run, but your legs would not move. You had nowhere to go.

The growling deepened, reverberating in your very bones. You had to do something, anything. And so, in the midst of your spiralling panic, you did the only thing you knew how to do.

You talked. In frantic, desperate, trembling High Valyrian, you talked to the beast. "Ñuhon, ñuhon, ñuhon..."

"Nyke Targārien iksan," you stammered, your voice shaking so badly that the words almost slurred together. "Aōha rūvēn iksan, līragon nyke, kostilus." I am a Targaryen. I am your friend, please, do not harm me.

The dragon’s growl did not cease, but something in the way it held itself shifted. Its great head tilted ever so slightly, those massive golden eyes fixed on you, unblinking. Its nostrils flared, taking in your scent, the thick breath of the beast sending a hot gust of air against your face.

"Nyke... nyke jorrāelagon sȳz rūvēn," you continued, your voice no less panicked, but steadier now, clinging to the one thing that had ever given you comfort—words. "Ñuha āeksia, ñuha lenton, ñuha ābrar issi... kostilus, do not hurt me."

The dragon let out a short, huffing sound—not quite a snarl, not quite a sigh. Its wings shifted slightly against the stone, and for one terrible, agonizing moment, you thought it might lunge, might strike.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your heart hammering against your ribs. But no attack came.

Instead, there was another sound—low, almost like a grumble, but different. Less threatening.

You opened your eyes slowly.

The dragon was still watching you, but the growl had lessened into something more like a deep, guttural rumble, a sound you could not quite name. It had listened.

You let out a shuddering breath, your hands still trembling.

"Issa sȳz," you whispered, barely audible.

The dragon huffed again, shifting slightly, its great claws scraping against the cavern floor. It did not bow, did not lower its head in submission—but it did not turn you to ash, either.

You had been heard.

You took a shuddering breath, pressing a hand to your chest in a futile attempt to calm your hammering heart.

"I—I should not be here, you see," you continued, voice wavering but relentless. "I was tricked, abandoned, left to die in this gods-forsaken forest by this imbecile, and I thought this cave would provide me shelter, but instead I find you. And I must say, I do not think this is fair. My father is the King. My sister is Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne, and I should not be grovelling before a dragon in the middle of a cursed forest, covered in dirt... fucking stark.

The dragon watched you, unblinking, unmoving, its massive body still half-coiled within the shadows. Its breaths came slow and steady, but the growl had lessened, replaced by something else.

Something like curiosity, so you kept talking.

You told the beast of the cold, how you dislike the chill of the North, how the winds bit at your skin and made your fingers numb. You spoke of your frustrations, of how your father had sent you here, how you had been made to suffer the company of Cregan Stark.

Your voice cracked as you spoke his name, and for some reason, that was when the first tear fell.

You wiped at it furiously, cursing yourself, cursing him, cursing this wretched night. You had been abandoned. Left like a fool to wander the forest, to freeze, to be forgotten. You let out a shaky breath, staring at the dragon before you.

“You would not have abandoned me,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath. “Would you?”

The dragon let out a low, rumbling sound—not quite a growl, but not quite a purr either. Its eyes gleamed like molten gold, sharp and knowing.

And then, to your shock, it moved again.

A slow, deliberate shift of its massive body. Clawed feet scraped against the cavern floor as it unfurled its wings slightly, shaking dust from its scales. Its long neck arched, its nostrils flaring once more.

Then, It lowered its head. Not by much, but enough.

You inhaled sharply, heart hammering, and slowly, hesitantly, you raised a trembling hand. The dragon did not move, it did not growl, did not flinch.

Your fingers brushed against its warm scales. Heat radiated beneath your palm, and for the first time since stepping foot in the woods, you felt safe. Your breath was shallow as you dared to lift your gaze.

Its golden eyes bore into yours, deep and endless, gleaming like molten metal in the dim light of the cavern. And though the beast said nothing—though it made no sound, no movement beyond its slow, steady breathing—you felt it.

Targaryens were of the blood of the dragon. But what was this? It was as though the dragon had recognized you. Not just as a Targaryen. Not just as some lost child who had wandered into its den.

But as its own.

Then, shattering the stillness of the cave, your name rang through the forest, sharp and desperate.

Your fingers curled against the dragon’s warm scales as the peacefulness—the strange, overwhelming sense of belonging—was yanked from you, ripped away by a voice you knew.

Him. Cregan fucking Stark.

You growled, the sound low and guttural in your throat, before turning away from the dragon. The air felt colder now, the cavern’s warmth a distant memory as you marched toward the entrance, your body rigid with fury.

How dare he?

How dare he call for you with such desperation, as though he had not been the one to leave you behind in the first place? As though he was not the reason your hands were scraped raw, your dress torn, your limbs frozen?

The moment you stepped out of the cave, the cold northern air bit at your skin, but you did not falter. Your anger burned hotter than any fire. Cregan’s voice came again, closer this time as he yet again called your name.

And then, you saw him.

A flickering torch in hand, his grey eyes scanning the dark, his normally composed features twisted with something that looked far too close to panic. His tunic was wrinkled, his hair tousled as though he had been running his hands through it and his chest was rising and falling heavily, his mouth slightly parted as though he had been running.

Good. Let him suffer.

His head snapped toward you the moment you stepped into the moonlight. The relief that crossed his face was instant, crashing over him like a wave.

“There you are,” he breathed, already moving toward you. “Gods, I—”

But before he could say anything else, before he could speak a single word of apology— You struck him. Not a slap, not a soft shove, but a full-force push against his chest, sending him stumbling back a step.

“You bastard,” you snarled, your voice shaking with unspent rage. “You left me.”

Cregan caught himself, blinking rapidly, as if stunned. “I—Seven Hells, I thought—”

“You thought what?” you bit out, stepping forward, your torn gown dragging over the forest floor. “That I would wait like a dog for you to come and fetch me?”

His jaw clenched, grey eyes dark with something unreadable as he took another step toward you. “I knew where you were. I never—”

“No, you didn’t,” you spat, the fury burning in your chest like Dragonfire. “Because when you finally came back, I was gone.”

Cregan ran a hand through his curls, exhaling sharply, his frustration plain. “You were supposed to stay there—why in the name of the Old Gods would you leave? In woods, you know nought of?”

“Why did I leave?” you echoed, your voice shaking with fury. “Because I was alone, Stark! Because I was freezing, because the wolves howled closer with every hour because I had no reason to believe you were ever coming back for me.”

Cregan’s expression flickered for a moment, something shifting behind his gaze—guilt. But you didn’t care for it.

His mouth opened as if he meant to speak as if there were words he could summon to undo what he had done. But no words came. Instead, from behind you, a deep, rumbling growl filled the air, low and unrelenting, the sound vibrating through your very bones and the ground shifting beneath you.

Your dragon.

A smirk curled at your lips as you turned your head slightly, just enough to glimpse the massive, hulking form that emerged from the cave’s mouth. The beast’s golden eyes were fixed on Cregan, unblinking, knowing. Steam curled from its nostrils as it stepped forward, claws sinking into the damp earth.

Cregan did not move, did not reach for the sword at his hip. He only watched, his grey eyes locked onto the creature behind you, his breath unsteady.

A slow smirk curled at your lips.

Cregan saw the shift in your face, and before he could react, you turned and took a few deliberate steps toward the beast, your gown dragging over the forest floor, torn and dusted with dirt.

"Wait, princess..." That was when Cregan moved. His hand shot out, gripping your arm, a firm pull—as if he had any right to stop you.

"Don't you dare--" You yanked yourself free, stepping back just in time.

And that was when your dragon struck, a sharp inhale, the air around you shifting—then flames. It wasn’t a full blast, just a warning—a thin stream of fire erupted from the beast’s maw, aimed straight for Cregan. You barely had time to gasp.

Cregan was fast. Faster than you had expected. He spun away just in time, throwing up his arms to shield himself as the flames roared past, illuminating the trees in a flickering orange glow.

Then, silence, making your smirk disappear.

“Cregan?” Your heart lurched as you watched the fire dissipate, smoke curling into the cold northern air.

For a terrifying second, he didn’t move. But then he straightened, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling sharply. He was alive. But when he turned back to you, you had to slap a hand over your mouth to smother the laugh that threatened to escape.

His normally dark curls were dusted in ash, the very tips of them still smouldering. His face was streaked with soot, and most hilariously of all— One of his eyebrows was completely gone.

You blinked. Then blinked again.

Your mouth fell open.

Cregan blinked, then let out a slow, rattled breath, his expression unreadable.

And then, you laughed.

You tried to hold it back, you really did, but it was impossible. The sight of him, wide-eyed, covered in soot with only one eyebrow left, his expression caught between horror and sheer disbelief—it was too much. A burst of laughter slipped through your lips, bubbling uncontrollably as you pressed a hand to your mouth.

Cregan just stared at you, completely dumbfounded.

Then he scowled. “You laugh? After your beast nearly burned my face off?”

You nod, laughing harder, hands clutching your sides, feeling your knees about to give. You wiped a tear from your eye, finally catching your breath. "That is what you get, for leaving me."

He exhaled sharply, still fuming. “You let your dragon burn me.”

“I did not!” you said defensively, though your voice still shook with laughter. “He did it on his own, and he merely singed you. It was a warning.”

You gestured at the dragon, whose golden eyes remained locked on Cregan as if daring him to try anything else. Cregan glared, but the effect was somewhat ruined by his missing eyebrow.

You tilted your head, examining him. “It is an… interesting look.”

He exhaled heavily, looking toward the sky like he was praying for patience. Then, after a beat, he muttered, “I should have left you in the woods.”

You grinned, stepping back toward your dragon, placing a firm hand against its scales. “And yet, here you stand. With only one eyebrow to show for it.”

Cregan shot you a heated glare, the muscles in his jaw tightening as if he were biting back a particularly colourful string of curses you were certain he was about to unleash—until the sound of approaching hooves shattered the moment.

The rhythmic thud of horses against the earth. The muffled crunch of boots stepping through fallen leaves. Then, the glow of torches flickered through the darkness, growing brighter, closer.

Your father had sent people to find you.

You should have felt relieved. Instead, all you could think about was what he would say—what he would do—when he realized what had happened. You were about to be scolded within an inch of your life.

Cregan must have had the same thought, because his shoulders squared, his expression hardening as he turned toward the oncoming riders.

Your dragon let out a low growl, its tail shifting against the forest floor, and you placed a calming hand on its scales.

You cast Cregan one last smirk. “Shall we tell them exactly what happened? Or shall we let them wonder why the heir to Winterfell is missing an eyebrow?”

His glare deepened, but before he could answer, the first of the riders broke through the trees, their torches illuminating the scene before them.

And just like that, the game was over... For now.

A/N

Hiii, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I wanted to stay true to the Y/N vibe and give her a wild dragon, tho, it's not Cannibal. Figure might as well give you something from the north other than Cregan lol. Tell me what you think was it too corny? Also, I don't know if you noticed but I made a jab to Bran, Three-Eyed Raven, just for funsies.

Thank you sooooo much for the support, the likes, comments and reblogs, you all really make me stay motivated.

<3 Thank you so muchhhh.

Tags:

r-3dlips

houseofyork2

itsaslaminak

a-song-of-fire-and-rain

jellyblogfish

aurora-starwars

edenexisting

squidscottjeans

princesssunderworld

xxxkat3xxx

horrorlover304

isansstuff

spicy30

roseloves2read

silverlightsaber

Tell me if you want to be tagged.

286 notes · View notes

piastrisun · 1 day ago

Text

the second account.

pairings: franco colapinto + singer female reader.

summary: after franco accidentally exposes his secret twitter account, fans accuse him of being delusional about his supposed relationship with you.

faceclaim: malina weissman.⠀warning: none.

request: could you make a franco and singer!reader where he "shows off" his girlfriend on his secret twitter acc but her fans don't believe him so she decides to surprise them by finally making a music video of "bed chem" casting him?

notes: messy dates, as usual. a brief use of gracie abrams for the music video part. and i know franco would put everything in spanish but it had to be in english for u guys. thank you so much for the request, i had a lot of fun making it. :)

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

translations: “every time she sings i forget how to breath, do you guys think it’s a medical condition” “my pretty princess” “check out her eyes, dude” “good morning to my girlfriend and my girlfriend only” “i’m head over heels for her what do i do” “no one sings like she does, man”

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

francolapinto added to their story.

yourusername and others liked your story.

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

liked by username, username1 and others

yndaily day 1 of using @/francolapinto’s tweets as captions: “imagine waking up and the first thing you see is yn’s face. a dream for you, a reality for me”

tagged yourusername

view all comments

username NOOOO THIS IS SO FUNNY PLS KEEP THIS GOING

username1 if i looked like this, i’d just walk around expecting people to fall in love with me

username2 franco is gonna see this and panic

username3 petition for this to become a daily series until he acknowledges it

username4 it’s crazy how all his tweets work as captions bc he’s LITERALLY a yn fanpage

username5 okay but why is she actually the most beautiful person alive

yourusername i fully support this, keep going

username6 she’s so chronically online IM CRYING

username7 SHES INSANE LMAOOOO

username8 @/francolapinto i get you man

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

liked by username9, username8 and others

43updates @yndaily has inspired us to start talking about franco the way he tweets about yn, wish us luck

tagged francolapinto

view all comments

43updates guys what if i’m actually yn and i’m doing this to bother him

username9 i’ve never seen you and yn on the same room

43updates 👀

43updates joke it can’t be me, i’m clearly unemployed… like SOMEONE I KNOW

username8 PLEASE let’s make him experience the secret account treatment

username7 he has created monsters i fear

francolapinto i suddenly understand how this might have looked from the outside, PARAAÁ

francolapinto but i mean, if you’re gonna do it, go all in. but NO ONE, can talk about me the way i talk about her

username6 LMAO, yeah okay, ‘her’, you mean the girl you run a fan account for?

username5 are u confirming or denying this i’m confused

username4 girl we need receipts, you look delusional

username3 we’ve been through this already, no one believes you 😭😭

username2 franco finally getting a taste of his own medicine

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

liked by francolapinto, username and others

yourusername bed chem video drops tomorrow!! 🌟 i couldn’t be more excited for you all to see it. it’s one of my favorite projects yet, and i had the best co-star.

also, since you guys are basically detectives. yes, this is my boyfriend. yes, he’s been running an account to talk about me this whole time. and no, i did not ask him to do that. but i was aware of it and i love him.

tagged francolapinto

view all comments

yourusername p.s. he’s been mentally preparing for this moment since the second account incident. be nice to him!!!!

francolapinto please!! i’ve suffered enough

username NO WAY i need a moment

username2 SHE JUST SAID IT LIKE IT WAS NOTHING HELLO??? 😭

username3 “yes, this is my boyfriend” GIRL I HAVE BEEN HAVING A MELTDOWN FOR WEEKS

yoursister you two are perfect together!! 🥹

francolapinto but seriously, every day with you is my favorite. you already know that, but saying it here too just in case, te amo 🤍 ♥︎ liked by author

yourusername i’ll put you in my pocket starting now, te amo más <3

username3 forget it when i said this was one sided…

oliviarodrigo need all the behind-the-scenes footage!!

francolapinto also hi. yes boyfriend here, happy to be included!! ♥︎ liked by author

francolapinto and for the record, my account was NOT a fan account. it was a highly curated appreciation page. there’s a difference

username4 five comments from him, he’s so obsessed 😭😭

username4 the way we all thought he was a lovesick fan and turns out he was just a boyfriend with too much free time

francolapinto i’m trying to not take any offence by this

username5 this is the funniest celebrity hard launch ever

alex_albon wow. shocking. so unexpected. truly a plot twist.

yourusername ❓

username6 she’s so funny for that caption 😭😭

username7 he was running a whole stan account for his own girlfriend and she just let him

username8 his twitter account was a love letter, i’m gonna be sick

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 25’.

#piastrisun: work #piastrisun: smau #piastrisun: requests #f1 x reader #franco colapinto x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 imagine #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto fic

255 notes · View notes

kumkaniudaku · 1 day ago

Text

Midterm

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 6k

MASTERLIST

Reading a congratulatory email with kind words and instructions to sign a lucrative offer was easy. Simply slip out of your third boring morning meeting, disappear into the surprisingly vacant courtyard, and spend no less than 30 minutes oscillating between excitement and sheer panic while clicking through pages of contracts to add your digital signature to an encrypted document. Kelvin followed the plan to the letter and then some.

The hard part was stifling the urge to scream at the birds and trees during peak business hours.

Voice low and eyes shifting in search of potential eavesdroppers, he sat in pensive silence to contemplate the gravity of his decision. In a little over a month, he'd be a Chicago resident. He'd wake up in his Chicago apartment, walk the Chicago streets, pass by Chicagoans on the way to his Chicago office, and then grab dinner ingredients at a Chicago grocery store. His license would change. Mail would need a new forwarding address. Updated voter registration, new doctors, a change in insurance, learning a transit system; change after change both excited and unnerved Kelvin all at once.

Part of him wanted to barge into his Head of Creative's office and slam his resignation on the table before clicking his heels together on the way out the door. Fuck this job. New and greener pastures were on the horizon! The other part, the terrified part of him that'd been worried sick since Saturday morning, couldn't even say the words out loud for fear that the wooden benches would absorb and tell his secret before he'd had time to craft poetic, well-thought-out lines.

In his mind, Kelvin thought he'd managed to maintain an impenetrable poker face. To a stranger or work acquaintance unschooled in Kelvin-ology, he could come across as convincing enough to overlook. For Asia, watching him from the communal kitchen, worry causing his knee to bounce in triple time told a different story.

"You know you can just go out there and talk to him, right?" Savannah's sarcastic introduction to an otherwise quiet moment cut through Asia's brain fog enough to garner attention as she shifted her weight from one side to the other. "I'm joking," Savannah laughed, trying to ease the tension between them. Asia's quick glance at the back of Kelvin's head provided the final number of a winning lottery sequence. "Wow, you really like him. Like, you two are a couple! I knew it."

Asia tried to remain casual as she crossed her arms and shrugged. "What are you talking about? Kel is my work friend."

"Must be a hell of a work friend for you to spend the night from his place. I noticed the cabinets, but I couldn't confirm until later that day when Kelvin took a meeting from the same place."

Savannah's cheeky grin sparked fear in Asia's heart. Widening her eyes, she craned her neck to see who may have heard her business in the area.

She leaned closer, keeping her voice low as she spoke. "You can't say that out loud," she cautioned. "We're being discreet!"

"Love you so much, Asia, but literally everyone knows."

"Everyone like who?"

"Asia," Savannah reiterated. "Every. One. The main crew has a group chat and everything. You just won me $20 bee-tee-dubbs. I'll share, promise."

Panic should've set in for Asia. Maybe dread and a tinge of fear. They'd broken another rule and crossed another carefully considered boundary in the pursuit of each other. Asia should've been nervous about how their not-so-secret pining had run through the office rumor mill and what it might mean for perceptions of her professionalism as one of the few Black women in the building. But relief was the only emotion worth exploring in the immediate aftermath of Savannah's revelation.

No more hiding. No more planning entrances five minutes apart or driving separate vehicles in busy morning traffic when one would suffice. They could share dinner leftovers during lunch and stop sneaking quiet giggles at jokes shared via text. No more hiding.

Relief helped Asia slowly release the extra air tightening her lungs and expanding her chest. She nodded at nothing in particular. "I expect my cut in all ones. It's for our strip club fund."

"Oooh, spicy," Savannah sang, stepping closer to speak in a hushed whisper. "So… how's it going with you two? How different is personal time Kelvin from work Kelvin?"

"Uh, I mean, you know. He's…you know."

Any sense of calm that offered a reprieve from an onslaught of complicated feelings was quickly replaced by the need to run out of the room and vomit. Knowing was one thing. Asking questions and wanting the scoop on something Asia deemed sacred and untouchable in conversation beyond what she chose to share was different.

Words sputtered from her lips as she tried to offer an explanation vague enough to get Savannah off her ass. The quiet roar of glass panes sliding on a metal track clipped Asia's start-and-stop sentence, turning all attention to Kelvin as he stepped in, looking like he'd just had his heart ripped in two and was trying but failing to keep his emotions intact. Savannah didn't seem to notice when she flagged him over. Asia couldn't take her eyes off his frown and sullen expression. Kelvin knew his face had betrayed him as soon as he was close enough for a thorough look at the questions knitting Asia's brows together.

Trying to play it cool, he swiftly pulled his hand out of his pocket and offered a wave to both ladies. "What's up?" A greeting he'd used a million times suddenly sounded bizarre. First mistake.

"Hiii!" Savannah's severe lack of subtly pulled a reluctant laugh from Kelvin before he shifted his gaze to focus on Asia.

"Asia. You good?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. What about you? You good?"

"I'm good now, yeah."

Anxieties feasting on his mind momentarily paused in reverence for Asia's presence. A true breath of fresh air. One he'd fight tooth and nail to keep in his life, distance be damned.

Savannah stood between the pair and their smitten grins, looking back and forth to see who'd make the first move. "This is just the cutest shit ever. I can't take it." Googly eyes slowly turned into blank stares aimed in her direction. Hint taken. "No, you're so right. I should get out of here. Asia, remember to put the thing on the slide at some point. In the one deck."

"Bye, Savannah!" Kelvin and Asia watched Savannah awkwardly scurry off to do only God knows what until they were safely alone.

Without a buffer to fill in the gaps, all the nausea-inducing worry from the morning's events came flooding back for Kelvin in another crushing wave. Had he been thinking straight, he would've opted to save such delicate news for the privacy of his living room when all the thoughts sitting jumbled like Soul Train board letters were sorted into the proper place. Unfortunately, life-changing information sure to shake the still-wet foundation on which they'd built their relationship ran off with his rationale long ago.

Kelvin opened his mouth to speak, then closed it when words didn't come out. He tried again. Then, one more time before finally forcing, "I have…something to tell you," into the atmosphere.

Asia tilted her head in curiosity. "So do I. Is yours good news or bad news?"

"Doesn't matter," he answered, trying to smile through the rapid thudding in his ears. "You go first."

Don't press, Asia. Resist! An inner monologue determined to usher Asia away from the sins of her past forced back 101 questions to make way for her surprise. "You know how the Moët client is looking for new artists for that summer series activation?" Kelvin nodded, vaguely remembering project details he'd contributed to in a past life. Asia reached into her back pocket to showcase two laminated passes on lanyards. "I convinced Chris and Sid to give me their passes so we could pull up. Now, we don't have to go all the way to Australia to see RINI. Fun, right?"

Kelvin recognized the big reveal as something he should be excited about. And, had present circumstances not reared its ugly head, he'd have no trouble sharing Asia's toothy grin and silly dance. He tried to fight the heavy haze clouding his day by raising his hand for a high five and flashing a vacant smile. "That's great, baby. I'm excited. Really."

So much for honesty.

Asia couldn't hide her skepticism, pushing her eyebrows high, and Kelvin couldn't hide his discomfort, which made him fidget with the contents of his front pockets.

"Yeah," Asia answered, disappointment in his half-assed reaction instantly stealing the light in her eyes and turning her bright smile into a shell of itself. "Um, what was your news? Anything good?"

Tact was never Kelvin's strong point. Breakups over text and ghosting were more his speed, no matter how much he hated that fact about himself. What everyone else saw as sleazeball behavior reserved for fuckboys deserving of eternal banishment to hell, he saw as protecting feelings.

Promises were promises, and Asia was worth more than slipping back into bad habits. Kelvin had to rip the band-aid and deal with the residual blood later. "Remember the Chicago job?" he asked, wringing his hands.

Oh no. Intuition and a random tarot reader told Asia to be on the lookout for roadblocks, but, dammit, she thought that meant traffic on the interstate or an annoying client ask, not the nagging tug of the Midwest.

"Yeah," she answered cautiously.

Kelvin adjusted the hydrant-red beanie on his head and sighed. Rip. The. Band-Aid. "They…called me back with all my negotiation demands met. And…”

"You took the job."

Patience was never Asia's virtue. Why beat around the bush when they could lay all the bad shit on the table and try to salvage a few pieces good enough to keep for fond memories later?

"Yeah." The finished sentence turned an abstract concept into reality, weighing so heavily on him that he found looking Asia in the eye and lifting his head too difficult. He repeated after her in a low, measured voice, "I took the job."

Suddenly, Asia couldn't help but hyper-fixate on her surroundings. The low hum of two French door refrigerators holding employee lunches was annoying. It always had been, but today, it sounded like an army of flies buzzing around the mess Kelvin's news had created. Distant laughter made her nostrils flare. How dare someone find joy in a time like this? The kitchen was too big and too open to contain the grief rising within her. Then, the stupid ping of notifications on Kelvin's phone threatened to blow her gasket. The stimuli converged simultaneously, bringing fresh tears to prickle at her waterline.

Asia forced them all back while Kelvin waited for her to say something to prove she didn't hate him. She extended a closed fist in his direction to match a closed-mouth smile. "Congratulations, Kel. I'm so proud of you. If we were somewhere else, I'd hug you."

"Hug me to sneak in for a choke or a real hug?"

"A real one," Asia chuckled, the sound of it returning to her stilted and lacking the mirth she intended. "I know you're bored here. You gotta do what you gotta do, right?"

Past all the hurt feelings and rage bubbling in her chest, Asia couldn't allow herself to stomp out Kelvin's fire with negativity. She'd save that for a tearful phone call with Sabrina or a good cry in the shower. Kelvin needed reassurance that he'd made the right decision, not the moaning and wailing she had planned for a moment alone.

"Yeah…" Kelvin paused to scan Asia's face for any sign of an impending adverse reaction but found none before he answered. Nothing. Not a shred of any identifiable emotion presented itself to Kelvin. Anxiety gripped him again. "Asia, don't shut me out. I know you have questions and fuckin' feelings. C'mon. Don't leave me out here by myself."

"Not here." An almost undetectable waver in her voice was enough to shatter Kelvin's heart into a million pieces. He watched her blink back tears to speak again. "Can we just be happy, please? For a little longer?"

He sighed, accepting defeat. "Okay." A mental reminder to add 'needs a moment before tough conversations' to his running list of things to know about Asia ran through his brain like neon letters on a marquee.

His index and middle fingers brushed across his puckered lips, collecting affection he quickly passed on to Asia. She kissed the spot his lips once occupied as a silent promise to revisit the subject when heightened emotions had time to return to baseline.

"You hungry? My treat."

An olive branch. Collective ease passed between them once Kelvin flashed a toothy grin at Asia and gestured ahead of him toward the courtyard doors. "After you."

What Kelvin couldn't have in her raw, unfiltered thoughts, he was more than happy to gain in a spare moment of mindless chatter over sushi a block away.

Something was better than nothing.

If left up to Asia, Chicago and all its complications would disappear because of her commitment to ignoring them.

City sounds and radio chatter on Saturday evening had spent more time filling silent gaps of conversation than Kelvin and Asia had for two straight days. The elephant in the room quickly became the elephant at the dinner table late Thursday night when Asia side-stepped the topic to discuss Married at First Sight instead, the elephant in the bedroom when the thought of Chicago kept her mind wandering too much to enjoy Kelvin feasting between her legs, and the elephant in the backseat while she pretended not to notice her boyfriend stealing glances at the red light.

Given the chance, Asia could avoid broaching the topic for weeks. Kelvin, on the other hand, couldn't ignore issues festering into resentment day by day. Before long, he'd carefully label boxes and precious belongings to ship to their new home. Being on the brink of drastic change without a resolution wasn't an option.

Standstill traffic and a small car accident separating them from their destination provided the perfect opportunity to catch Asia in close quarters and force the issue. Kelvin took a deep breath and slowly turned the volume down on one of Tyler the Creators' piano-heavy tracks, earning a confused side-eye for his behavior.

"Everything okay," Asia asked, shifting her body towards Kelvin so he could feel the full weight of her annoyance.

He shrugged. "You tell me, Asia. I'm not the one tiptoeing around some really important shit right now. Is everything okay?"

"Kelvin, not right now. We can talk about it when we get back tonight."

Arms crossed at her chest, and a deep frown sent Asia retreating into herself, frustrating Kelvin to the point of no return. When he imagined the first roadblock in their relationship, hogging the covers or choosing the thermostat's temperature came to mind. He expected little hurdles to make room for the big stuff. The relationship-altering, make-or-break whammies either strengthened a couple or sent them careening toward total implosion. This behemoth was a tsunami of complications he didn't expect but wouldn't allow to throw him off course.

"You said that last night and the night before. I'm tired of 'tonights!' It's happening, Asia! We can't get around the shit. So, talk to me right now!" Kelvin's body vibrated in time with his hands gripping and releasing the steering wheel until he practiced in and out deep, soothing breaths brought him back off the ledge. Asia watched his shoulders slowly slump away from his ears before he reached over to rest a warm palm on her inner thigh to stroke his thumb against smooth denim, his eyes apologetic as he looked over at her. "I didn't ask you to be with me for no reason. Can we talk about what all this means for us?"

Asia rested her hand atop his to twist the ring on his finger while she tried to gather words and explanations she'd practiced for days on end. "I don't know."

In all her soul-searching and reckoning with the inevitable, she realized that she had no idea what the next steps were.

She always had the answers, the plan, and the foresight to know how to proceed in any situation. This one, though – this flurry of warm feelings filled with complicated explanations and head-spinning romance – she couldn't figure out. Not even when she turned to practical skills and timeline plotting to make it all make sense.

I don't know. Kelvin wasn't sure what he expected when he decided to corner Asia for an answer, but that wasn't it. Not knowing was worse than not caring. He could deal with the finality of no longer giving a fuck. However, the uncertainty in what he thought was a reasonably black-or-white scenario was unnerving. Kelvin let the gut punch settle until Asia spoke again to soothe the pain she'd inflicted.

"How…how would it work," She questioned in a small voice, her eyes low to avoid cracking the nerve she'd built. "Tell me you have a plan. Because, if you don't, I –"

Kelvin rushed to reassure her. "I have a plan. Trust me." For once in his life, Kelvin was moving intentionally. No stone left unturned; no possibility left up to chance. "I leave in six weeks. Give me two to get my shit together, and you're on the first flight into O'Hare."

"And after that?"

"We'll talk every morning and every night. Then I'm on my way to you every other week, baby. And every other month, I'll make sure you get to me. Nonstop flight. The price doesn't matter. All you need is a packed suitcase. Or not. You can be naked the whole time. That's fine by me."

Two nonstop flights a month, airport pickups and drop-offs every other week, Fridays in, Monday mornings out, constant connection over the phone when the physical was out of the question—simple enough. There was no fluff, only a concerted effort to make a less-than-ideal situation work. The happiness didn't have to die if they didn't let it.

Still, Asia wrestled with separating idyllic assumptions from reality. What happened when schedules presented challenges? Or when the weather interrupted? Did distance make the heart grow fonder or help intertwined lives push away the realities of life together hundreds of miles apart.

Kelvin could see the wheel turning for Asia while she mulled over his proposal from every angle. "Give me a little more time, okay?" Deflating. The air in Kelvin's sails came through his nose in a disappointed huff just as traffic began to pick up enough for steady motion. She held his hand in place, hoping he could feel the intention behind her hesitancy. "I'm not closing the door on us. I need to make sure we're prepared. That's all."

The absence of an enthusiastic yes wasn't a no – another tidbit to add to Kelvin's growing Asia file. He'd have to find comfort in the details to keep her in his life. And damn, did he want to keep her in his life. His plan had more legs, including a permanent address change for Asia.

"That's okay. Take your time," he answered as he laced their fingers together and brought the back of her hand to his lips. "Just don't leave me hanging like that again."

"I won't. I'm sorry."

Relationships came with a learning curve Asia had to experience to understand. No one in her life had prepared her for conflict resolution. Being an only child taught her how to play by herself and keep her secrets close to her chest. There was nothing in the manual about coexisting with another human she cared for more and more each day. She didn't know how to share items or feelings. But Kelvin made her want to try. That had to count for something.

Once tense quiet returned to the comfortable, wordless quality time Kelvin and Asia had come to enjoy, it followed them for miles to the venue until the need to mix and mingle took center stage.

In a room full of strangers intermixed with a few familiar faces, they moved around like a couple for the first time. Introductions as a tandem flowed naturally. Seeing them move from group to group hand in hand amused but didn't surprise team members who'd long had their suspicions confirmed by Savannah. 'Alvin' as one member of the group named them. Not their preferred choice, but good enough for the moment.

As alcohol flowed and inhibitions were disarmed, smooth crooning and soul-stirring baselines from the artist of the hour pushed tomorrow's problems further down the road.

Kelvin kept a hand on Asia's hip while she allowed her body to sway along with RINI's soulful cover of Leon Bridges' "That's What I Love." Hearing his voice beyond the warbling of his JBL speaker from Asia blasting music far too loudly reminded Kelvin of the first time she shared her new favorite artist with him. She made him listen to Ultraviolet twice all the way through, forcing him to commit more lyrics to memory than he ever did for any other artist. Truthfully, the music didn't hit the same when she wasn't in the room. He tried listening on his own, but it was missing something or someone to add the depth he needed to make the album spin worth his time.

Applause filled the room just after the final strum of RINI's guitar reverberated. Asia beamed from a spot toward the back. Asia claimed she was fine where she was, but Kelvin knew she was too scared to get close and act like a crazed fan. His lips found her temple for a quick kiss as RINI prepared to end his showcase.

"I gotta find a way to get out to the States more. This is great," he laughed, causing the audience to join him. "My time is ending, but I can't go without singing the song that put me on your radar. Big thanks to Moët for letting me spend some time with you tonight. I'm excited to get to work this summer. Until then, this is Meet Me in Amsterdam. I hope you enjoy."

Asia couldn't contain her squeal, earning a low laugh from Kelvin once the open notes of her favorite song began.

I would sail across the world

Row this boat from dusk till dawn

Kelvin and Asia had heard the song plenty of times together, so much so that Kelvin was tired of its slow drone and accompanying music video. Both RINI and Meet Me in Amsterdam were on his list of things he could live without and still die a happy man.

Until the lyrics started to circle too close to home. A plea for the songwriter's love to make the leap and meet him in a foreign land felt like a page ripped directly from Kelvin's journal. Had he possessed the talent, he would've sung into Asia's ear while she leaned against him, caught in the rapture of beautiful lyrics.

She didn't need Kelvin's additional vocal performance to know her partner had fallen victim to the magic. She was right there with him, letting the music speak where neither her heart nor mind could reach.

Won't you come closer; let it take over

I don't need anything; I just want you

"I just want you." The words came out before Asia could stop them. She was never one to fall into the melodrama of romance, but maybe she'd never had an adequate opportunity. Maybe all she needed was a few glasses of white wine and a man looking back at her like universes formed in her eyes to give in to what she'd always considered unrealistic and a little corny.

Kelvin wrapped an arm around her waist before dipping his head to meet her parted lips as she craned her neck to get a better look at his face. "You got me."

Turning in his arms, she faced him head-on. "I want to try. For you. Let's make it work."

"Every other week. I swear."

"I know. I believe you."

Rolling waves filled with blinding passion set their bodies aflame, connecting them for a kiss too searing to start and end in a room full of people. Some things were best experienced behind doors clumsily kicked closed after Kelvin and Asia burst through the door of his apartment connected at the mouth.

Small items clattered on the ground as they bumped into the wall, sending anything not bolted to Kelvin's entryway table scattering in the darkness. The moonlight streaming through his balcony door was the only light to illuminate their path. They couldn't care less. Kissing and fondling were their only priorities on the way to shedding extraneous clothing.

The bedroom was too far, and the couch didn't provide enough leverage for what Kelvin wanted to do for Asia. The counter was too high off the ground, unfortunately. The table, though, was perfect.

Kelvin thanked God for weightlifting as he hoisted Asia up into his arms, tongues still dancing as he walked them across the room. Asia used her forearm to swipe decorative mats and rattan charger plates to the floor so her backside could fill the empty space.

Soft panting and the light smack of lips coming together and separating rhythmically filled charged cold air. Asia flinched when Kelvin slipped his hand beneath her t-shirt to reach her bra's front clasp.

"Take this off. Hurry up," Kelvin demanded as he stepped back to pull his crewneck over his head. He didn't have time for frilly language and sweet kisses. Maybe later, when they'd calmed down from their high. This first fuck was for all the sessions they'd missed between quiet nights in and words left unsaid. A little something to take the edge off.

Zippers sliding down, garments rustling, and leather sliding out of thin loops made Kelvin's apartment sound like a department store dressing room until they were reconnected in mind and body.

Half-dressed with goosebumps pebbling an expanse of rich brown skin, lovers let their hands roam freely while they grinded against each other.

Asia moaned at the feel of teeth gently tugging her bottom lip before pulling away to breathe. "C'mon, Kel. Right now," she rushed on in one breath. "I need it."

"What about the condom? It'll only take a second." Kelvin asked, half-hoping but not expecting Asia to abandon her primary stipulation.

"Fuck a condom. C'mon."

The go-ahead to proceed with caution thrown to the wind put them on a path to the sort of carnal and fleshly satisfaction Kelvin's father warned him about before he left home at 18.

Sorry, dad. This shit feels way too good to miss out on, Kelvin thought to himself as he slid into Asia's warmth inch by inch. He was weightless for a moment, floating in otherworldly bliss while he fit himself inside her body. "Fuck," he whispered.

"Oh…yes. Yesyesyes." Asia's toes curled, gripping at nothing in a desperate attempt to remain tethered to the atmosphere. "Wait a second. Don't move." Crossing her ankles at the small of his back, Asia pulled Kelvin in a little deeper, smiling at the small groan he muffled against her skin. She just needed to feel him. In six weeks, they'd have to plan moments of intimacy and simulate sex through a screen, waiting for the day they could be together in the flesh. Tonight, with his body filling every dip and ridge like the final piece to a puzzle, they could kick the can down the road for a few more days. "Okay. I'm ready."

Agonizingly slow thrusts helped them get acquainted with one another in a new way. Kelvin lifted his head from the crook of Asia's neck, yearning to look her in the eyes for an added layer of closeness. He pecked her nose, lips, chin, cheeks, and lips again, trying to keep those three words at bay.

"Faster, baby." A firm request teetering on begging broke through Kelvin's haze while Asia tried to pull him into her body by his shoulders.

He smirked. "Oh, you can talk now?" His taunting made Asia squirm against him for extra friction before he stopped and held her in place. "You up for another lesson?"

"Mhmm," she forced out, hoping her compliance would get her closer to the real fun.

"You been quiet all week. Imma need to hear you tonight if you wanna cum."

A horny, exasperated sigh preceded a short whimper. "What? I don't know how t –"

"Yeah, you do," Kelvin encouraged. Tell me what you want, and then I'll give you what you need."

Near painful throbbing has Asia ready to agree to anything if it meant she could finally come off some of the pressure from a stressful week. Quick agreeance earned her a return to Kelvin's slow back and forth, a shiver hitting both their spines as he took a shallow dive inside.

Asia took a deep breath and tested her voice. "You - you feel so good?" She closed her eyes, hoping Kelvin would take pity on her feeble attempt only to be rewarded with nothing. She tried again. "Right there, baby."

"We'll be here all night. Relax. Be confident."

Relax. Be confident. The gentle reminder and suckling at her neck helped Asia partially release the valve on her nervousness. Kelvin rocked into her expert precision and care, waiting to hear more.

A choppy moan caught in her throat before she could speak again. "You fuck me so good. You really thought I was gonna let you get that far away from me?"

Kelvin groaned and sped up enough for Asia to notice. She smiled, palming the back of his head to keep him close.

"There it is," he whispered. "Keep goin', beautiful. Tell me some more."

Bingo. Electricity sparking between them opened up a whole new world of vocal possibility. "I want all you got tonight, baby. Can you do that for me? Fuck me until I can't take anymore?"

"Uh-huh. I got you."

Asia rubbed circles at the nape of his neck, feeling a jolt in her body from another change in pace. "Mmm. Deeper, baby. You can do better than that, right? For me?" Her provocation ignited a burning desire for Kelvin to perform. He needed the glory. Asia dropped her talking display long enough to moan through her man putting his entire being into testing the limits of his little circular wooden table.

If sweet talk couldn't get him to knock the rings out of her, goading him with a challenge undoubtedly did the trick. Scratching against his back, demanding more depth, more speed, and more kissing spurred Kelvin into fast, furious fucking.

In no time, they were close. Deliciously, dangerously close. No protection meant no staying for the final hoorah. He had to time his exit perfectly for the right mix of precision and mutual satisfaction. Though Kelvin seemed to care, Asia was just hitting her stride.

"I think about you all day, waiting for you to fuck me just like this. I want you so bad sometimes." Asia confessed while Kelvin fucked her on his toes. "Even at work, when we’re not supposed to. That’s when I need you the most.” Grabbing the sides of his face with both hands, Asia forced him to look her in the eye. "Be good for me, baby. Make me cum."

Instructions? A command? A simple slip of the tongue? Kelvin couldn't bring himself to waste brain power distinguishing. He needed to focus. Focus on Asia's nipples rubbing against his chest and how her breaths and his started to become one. Then, the light sheen of sweat helping their bodies slide against one another. He focused on the sticky coating of arousal inviting him to rub his thumbpad against her clit.

Asia squealed, then licked Kelvin's open mouth. He rasped out a command of his own. "Come on! Come on!" Resolve began to wane. Any longer, and they'd be in the nearest drug store taking the walk of shame toward the Plan B pills.

If the walls ever decided to talk, they'd blush when recounting the vision of Asia forcing Kelvin's mouth against one of her breasts, trying to balance the sting from his hand colliding with her thigh with his warm tongue tracing braille on her areola.

Her body seized, making it almost impossible for him to pull out. Every other week on a stuffy flying bus sounded like hell, but if he had this to look forward to after the wheels touched the tarmac, he could drum up some enthusiasm in no time.

At the last moment, Kelvin forced himself out of his favorite place on earth just in time for the fruits of a mind-bending orgasm to spill from his head onto Asia's inner thigh. Together, they watched fresh semen coat supple skin, their chests heaving and ears ringing. Kelvin couldn't speak. He could only watch as Asia gathered a small amount on her fingertip and swiped it against her tongue.

Kelvin moaned when Asia moaned to relish the sensory experience of his taste. "Did I pass?" Her question fell on deaf ears, with Kelvin more focused on gathering more semen on his fingers to pop into her mouth. She treated him to a show, sucking the digits clean. She spoke again. "Answer me, baby. Did I pass?"

"With flying colors," Kelvin finally answered. Asia smiled into a searing kiss, reveling in her accomplishment. A new skill had been unlocked, and one more accolade had been added to her mental trophy case.

Another lesson to take her mind off of the inevitable. At least until the morning rolled around to wash the fresh coat of paint she'd forced over a very real, immovable problem.

RINI blasting from phone speakers dampened behind the bathroom door reminded Asia of the night before and how she'd allowed the heat of the moment to lock her into a contract she'd neglected to read the fine print on.

Facing the bedroom window, Asia snuggled deeper into warm sheets and scanned the pros and cons list on her phone. Pro #1: She could eat deep-dish pizza every other month. Con #1: Her man wouldn't be nearby multiple days a week. Which was more important. She couldn't decide. Food or the comforts of stable, local partnership?

She had started typing a new con when Kelvin emerged from the bathroom naked and moisturized from head to toe. "You awake now?"

Fuck. Asia thought she had more time to plaster on her happy face. She used a pretend yawn as her buffer. "Yeah," she answered, faking the funk. "Good morning, baby."

"Morning." Unbrushed teeth could never stop Kelvin from getting his first kiss of the day. He nuzzled his nose against hers before speaking. "Sleep okay?"

"Mhm. You?"

He nodded and slipped into bed beside her. "For the most part. I gotta show you something, though." Kelvin reached back to retrieve his phone from the nightstand's charging station. A few taps against the screen presented a short list of apartment options for Asia's inspection. "I started looking at some spots in the middle of the night. This one has a crazy second room for an office. Look at that view."

A wall of windows overlooking the downtown cityscape made Asia's stomach churn. Reality smacked her in the face. He was leaving and waiting on her approval on an apartment she couldn't stand in a city she wished didn't exist.

"That's so nice, baby. You can get a nice couch in there as a gaming room, too."

Kelvin considered her suggestion and nodded. "Damn, that's a good idea. I need to take you with me when I look next week. You down?"

"Uh…yeah. Yeah, I'll come." Asia shook off her rapidly increasing heartbeat and scooched closer to rest her head on Kelvin's shoulder. "Can you show me another one?"

Enthusiasm fading into meaningless sounds turned Kelvin into Charlie Brown's teacher as he gushed over layouts and natural light. She nodded along to nothing in particular. Smile. Rub his arm. Act supportive. Be the perfect girl. Just be happy for a little longer.

Reply if you'd liked to be tagged. DM if you’d like to be removed.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @thevelvetwhispers @wowitsafemale @kindofaintrovert @sexysativa605 @jvzmine19 @turn-thy-paige @lapateeserie @simplyzeeka @supremechae @palmstreesallday @blackmoonchilee @ovohanna24 @prettypynklemonade @gwenda-fav @itsash-okay @sparklytemi @blackchickinthedesert @miyuhpapayuh

#kelvin harrison jr.#kelvin harrison jr. x black oc #kelvin harrison jr. smut

142 notes · View notes

marbofmoorock · 3 days ago

Text

I am convinced this is a Daydream Zooble has.

I'm making an abstragedy story out of this:

TADC AU: Skater Gangle Universe

Cast:

Gangle: Kind of a jaded, yet friendly tomboy punk, she's more like Zooble in this Universe, kind of passive aggressive with a bit of an edge, but she kills it on the board, shredding everything in the circus, adventures included. Caine is secretly impressed, and Zooble is infatuated with Gangle, always doing doodles of her and the other cast members. Gangle is pretty bold, not taking any of Jax's junk, often calling out his pranks before he can pull them on her, often breaking it with her board, due to being fed up with Jax(Caine often snaps her board back to normal with no problem). Often Gangle spends her free time in her room designing boards. She's also great at surfing and snowboarding. She sticks up for herself and what she knows as right, taking on an honest outlook on the circus, knowing she's trapped and enjoying it.

Pomni: A new arrival to the circus, she pops into the circus with her Jester outfit, trying to enjoy the adventures. In this Universe, Pomni has a knack for telling really lame jokes as a way to deal with the fact she can't find the exit. Cringeworthy dad puns which get on Jax's nerves such as "What wears shoes, but has no feet? The pavement." (Haahahahahahaha). Constantly laughing at her own jokes, she lives up to being the Jester, constantly cackling and giggling at even a semblance of humor. Everybody treats Pomni kind of like the crazy one, as Pomni sort of acts like Kinger, laughing maniacally at times and speaking of nonsense due to occasional memory lapses.

Kinger: in this Universe, Kinger is intact mind wise, and loves to spend time with the others. Sad over Queenie's death, he commits to helping the others in her honor, being like a group father and uplifting everyone while sharing trivia and fun facts. He and Ragatha immediately take Pomni as if they're both Aunt and Uncle, looking after her as if she was her niece. Ragatha is super cuddly, especially with Jax.

Zooble: Shy and Sweet, sort of swapping personalities with Gangle, Zooble is timid, shy, and very agreeable. Often letting Jax Jax play with her parts and throw them around until he gets bored, Zooble kinda just plays along to the adventures and goes with the flow, often indifferent to Jax's antics in order to get him to stop in a more subtle way. She's always lending a hand because she has so many to spare, sensitive, easily upset by others.

Ragatha: Kind, gentle, and devoted, Ragatha in this universe is about the same as the digital circus Ragatha, with one exception. She is more openly loving towards all members of the cast more than she was before, always putting her heart foot forward to provide them with her love with Kinger being like an uncle to Her Ragatha and him working together to be the group mom and dad so nobody is left behind, which annoys Gangle slightly(but reluctantly agreees), but Zoobie and Pomni are happy that there is a group. Ragatha and Jax are close.

Jax: Jax is mostly the same character we all know and love/hate, but with a slight twist. Instead of being a jerk and purposely hurting others for fun, Jax in this AU prefers to pull harmless pranks instead, and go soft on others, especially Ragatha, whom he had a HEALTHY relationship with(too much abusive relationship posting with bunnydoll shippers).

TADC AU: Shredding Mask

"I wish she would shred me..." Thought Zooble, as she stared in awe as Gangle boldly skates and slides on a railing and around the tent, lots of sparks trailing behind, leaving Zooble in awe.

Gangle sees Zooble watching and gives her a wink, and Zooble falls backwards fainting, all her interchangeable limbs falling apart when she falls on the ground. "Gosh, I hope she skates holding my head next time, mmm, yes~" Says Zooble, blissing out getting to see Gangle do tricks yet again.

Jax walks up, "Well, well, I guess somebody really broke down, huh? You and Gangle should get a room already."

Zooble is too focused on Gangle to even hear Jax, which he shrugs his shoulders at.

Ragatha then walks up, helping Zooble get back together, Jax assists Ragatha and soon she's back together but easily dazed. If she had a nose, it would be bleeding.

"Golly..." Muttered Zooble as she was still dazed by Gangle.

Ragatha chuckles, " Come on Jax, let's give our friend with a crush some space."

"Whatever you say, dollface. " Says Jax as they glance toward each other in their own flirtatious way, happy to be with each other as they give Zooble some space.

Pomni and Kinger are watching all of this go down.

"So, they're like, in love?"

"HA-Well, I suppose that could be the case for Zooble. Maybe Gangle hasn't fully noticed yet."

"Oh Gosh, it's one sided?!"

"Ha-Don't worry, word will get around fast. I remember when Jax was trying to tell Ragatha how he felt. It was the same old story, but Ragatha's certainly no Tomboy like Gangle."

"The Skater Punk and Bashful Artist, I think there's potential..."

Gangle rolls over and does a circle around Zooble, to which Zooble watches quietly.

"Hi Gangle"

Gangle stops, and kicks up her board in her hand, somewhat huffy from her workout. "Yeah, What up, Potato Head?"

"You think I'm a...potato~?" Zooble blushes intensely.

Gangle, slightly weirded out, responds: "It's a joke, but whatever."

"You're funny... you know that?" Zooble says in a wistful sort of way.

Gangle found Zooble's statement kinda odd, but didn't dislike her or anything, so she walks over and helps her up.

"So uh, did you draw anything cool?"

Zooble gets giddy and excited hearing her say that, but then tries to play it cool so she doesn't freak Gangle out.

"Yeah-Oh, uh, yeah, yeeeah...feel free to check it out or whatever."

Zooble gives Gangle her notebook, and Gangle looks through it, finding a bunch of pictures of her skateboarding.

"Wow, these are really good. I look awesome. Thanks Zooble."

Zooble blushes doing her cute signature hand wave(Ep. 4): "Ohoho, it was nothing, I like drawing you. You're so inspirin-" Zooble tries to stop talking, embarrassed she unveiled so much about her feelings gushing.

Gangle was touched as she looked through more of the album, realizing half of the pictures were of her, so she turns to Zooble, and uses a softer tone as she didn't realize how much Zooble noticed and cared about her until now.

"Zooble, I...am really happy you drew these pictures of me. You're a very talented artist."

"I am?" Says Zooble, flustered by Gangle's sudden complement.

"Yeah, I reeeally like it." Says Gangle, as she gazes at Zooble.

Zooble sees Gangle's pupils dilating as she gazes, and she gazes back.

"Gangle..." Says Zooble as she stares, "I...always wanted to tell you..."

"No need," retorted Gangle, "I already know."

They walk over to each other and share a long heartfelt hug.

Pomni and Kinger are still secretly watching from behind a corner.

"Ha-they're a total item now."

"Yeah...It's so adorable..."

"Reminds me of Queenie, she always loved hugs the most, she'd whisper bug trivia while we hugged, it always made me chuckle."

"That's so sweet, in the most nerdy kind of way."

"I did study computer science for 7 years. Nerdiness comes with the territory, as does an insect collection and obsessions with game shows."

"Oh Kinger, i have a joke for you."

"Haha-Lay it on me Pomni."

"Did you hear about the Circus Fire? It was in Tents."

"Haha, Good one PomPom."

Caine watches secretly out of sight from an orb, excited about shipping everyone!

"Yeees, YEEESSSS, GANGLE AND ZOOBLE ARE IN LOVE, YEEESSS! NOW THEY'LL ENJOY ALL OF THE ADVENTURES MORE. Now we have an Abstragedy and BunnyDoll! And Pomni and Kinger have a father Daughter thing going on! WAHOOOOOOO! I AM SUCH A GOOD RINGMASTER!"

"Yeah you are." Said the Moon flirtatiously, walking up to Caine, massaging his shoulders.

Caine then Turns to face Moon. "Oh Moon, I am so glad you're here."

"You know i love you~"

Caine Blushes: " I do. I really do."

"Kiss me already with those teeth lips of yours."

Caine and the Moon Kiss.

The End.

Skater grill gangle bc i like grills

882 notes · View notes

theoreticallybread · 1 day ago

Text

i genuinely believe that if not for bruce, dick and steph are the ONLY batkids that would have taken up crimefighting.

dick’s entire origin story is filled with rage and despair, he watched his parents fall to their deaths and learned that they had been brutally murdered because of something that wasn’t even their fault! his pure rage fueled his creation of robin. even if bruce hadn’t taken him in, i can tell you that he would have gone after his parents’ killer himself, and probably wouldn’t have stopped trying to rid gotham of crime even as he matured and grew a sense of empathy towards all victims. dick was already the angry robin, it only makes sense that he would have done something even without the cape.

no matter what anyone else says, jason was NOT violent. he loved being robin with all his heart because it gave him magic. it is clear to me that he hated the thought of harming innocent people especially through his time at ma gunn’s place because of his resistance to the thought of being turned into a hurting machine like the other boys. and yet as soon as bruce takes him in, he becomes just that: a child soldier. if bruce had not taken jason in, i think he would have been much happier. he knows that the deaths of his mother and father, while tragic, are not something he needs to avenge, and all he looks for afterwards is food and a roof over his head. he is not a character built on revenge, he is introduced to the concept by bruce when he is trained to defeat evil with his fist rather than his words. jason would have been an amazing teacher if he wasn’t red hood, and he would be able to help people in crime alley just the same, by providing support and a good foundation for them to accomplish things.

tim drake did not want to be robin. the only reason he ever became robin was because he needed to protect everyone who faced the wrath of an angry bruce. he is an observant person and he noticed how much harder bruce was hitting after jason’s death. he knew that bruce needed someone else out there with him to stabilize him and prevent him from doing something he’d regret. tim tried to get dick to fill that role, but when he refused tim took it upon himself instead. he’s responsible like that. tim drake most likely would’ve been a successful businessman if he wasn’t a cape because of his smarts and ability to read people.

steph is the only other robin i believe would have still worn a cape if not for bruce. she found out about her father’s wrongdoings and immediately her sense of justice told her that she needed to stop this from happening. she would be unable to stop herself from trying to protect innocent people with or without bruce, just because of her absolute need to do the right thing.

cassandra and damian are similar in the fact that they were raised as human weapons and weren’t allowed to be their own individual people. i firmly believe that they would have managed to break free of their oppressors even without bruce’s existence for talia to rely on in regards to damian. after so much time spent fighting and being used, i think they would have tried to find an identity outside of this. they probably would’ve have ended up as similar people to the ones they are with bruce in the picture, but i doubt that they would have continued to fight as much outside of absolute necessity because of the bad memories surrounding it. if they did fight, it would be in self defense and for themselves, not in accordance with what someone else wanted them to do.

duke is complicated, because while he does have a great sense of justice and is also a meta, i don’t think he would have continued to pursue the path of a vigilante for very long. i haven’t read a ton of stuff with duke, but i think i can safely say that he would have taken a step back from everything to support himself and take care of his parents after what the joker did to them. he probably would have taken up a career that involved aiding people in a more peaceful way, similar to jason.

anywho thanks for coming to my ted talk :)

#batman #bruce wayne #nightwing #dick grayson #red hood #jason todd #red robin #tim drake #robin #damian wayne #black bat #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #signal dc #spoiler dc #duke thomas

110 notes · View notes

uceyliyahh · 2 days ago

Text

SNEAKY LINK

Summary: After having a one night stand with each other Kiyana and Jey decided to become sneaky links until she grew attached to him will he be able to feel the same as her?

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Kiyana

word count: 5590

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @clubsoft @bloodlineee1

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @tribalhoochie

@charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @luvrsluxe @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @raya-hunter01 @lilucey @soccergirlbae

Ø5

"I miss you so much mama,"

"I need you, I want you, I fucking need you."

"you can't avoid him forever Kiyana"

"you could never be like her Jaida, never,"

OMNISCIENT Kiyana has taken the past few months to prioritize herself and her career after ending her connections with Jey and Aaron. In the past, she would often receive beautiful bouquets of roses from Jey, accompanied by heartfelt notes expressing his longing for her. While these gestures would bring a smile to her face, she now places the flowers on her dresser, a reminder of a different time, as she immerses herself in her work.

She was aware that he was reserving a flight to Indianapolis for the Royal Rumble tonight, so she aimed to stay as connected as possible, secretly watching him on the big screen.

She hasn't heard from Aaron since that night he collapsed on her porch a few months back. It's clear he hopes to stay out of her sight, especially now that her career is flourishing.

He often arrived at her home, making subtle threats and offhand remarks that left her feeling unsafe. This persistent behavior forced Kiyana to seek a restraining order against him. Meanwhile, she was busy with her bikini photoshoots, confidently wearing a sleek black biking two-piece paired with stylish heels, surrounded by other women in the same space.

Nathan expertly captured every striking pose and beautiful angle of her, showcasing her unmatched beauty and charisma. As he snapped away, Patrice approached Kiyana, holding another bouquet of roses, clearly a gift from Jey.

She grabbed the card and examined it carefully.

'I know it's been a couple of months since we last seen each other but I miss you like really fucking miss you Imma be in the royal rumble tonight and was hoping to see you there I got you a ticket for it so please I hope I can see you,' Love - Joshua 💗

She realized that the ticket was included with the note, and given that it was a first-class fare, it was clear he was genuinely invested in her visiting him. Spending that much money on a first-class ticket to Indy showed just how much he wanted her there.

Nathan approached her, noticing her gaze fixed on the ticket Jey had given her. He gently tapped her on the shoulder, causing her to flinch momentarily before turning to face him. "goodness Nate can't be scaring folks like that," Kiyana said as Nathan chuckle at her.

"My bad girl, I was just checking in on you seems like you have a lot on your mind," He claimed that he was the sole individual who could recognize when something was amiss with her, even more so than Patrice.

"Can I be honest?" Nathan nodded his head leaning against the dresser listening to her attentively as Kiyana sighed deeply, "I miss him Nate, I miss his presence his touch. Everything about him,"

She made the difficult decision to distance herself from him for a few months, prioritizing her own well-being and career. Despite the separation, thoughts of him frequently occupied her mind, and she found herself hoping he was thriving. Yet, it seemed clear that he was missing her just as deeply as she missed him.

She found herself torn about whether to meet him again. Doubts clouded her mind as she questioned if she could ever trust him after the way he had played with her emotions during their time together. The uncertainty weighed heavily on her, especially after she had revealed her true feelings for him, crossing a line she had vowed to uphold.

"But you have been doing so good without him what's changed Yana?"

"Maybe after Aaron threatened me or him showing up at my house banging on the door like a crazy maniac," she said she was having that sense of Jey being there to protect her but realizing that he wasn't there to do so.

She let out another deep sigh, her fingers tangling in her hair as frustration washed over her. "I really don’t know, Nate. He wants me to visit him in Indy. Should I go?" Her gaze was fixed on the ticket, noting that the flight didn’t depart until four in the afternoon, which meant she would have plenty of time to pack a few essentials once she got home.

He gently tapped her on the back and said, "Be truthful with yourself. Do you truly want to see him? I mean, deep down in your heart, is that what you really want? Just take a moment to reflect on it, alright?" Kiyana nodded as Nathan stepped away from the dresser, giving her space to ponder his words.

She genuinely wanted to back him, just as he had stood by her during her first runway show a few months back. However, she needed to take a moment to consider her decision before the clock hit four.

uceyjucey, americannightmarecody, trinity_fatu, and others liked your post.

yanasworld: a definition of perfection 🤍 uceyjucey: fuck 😩 trinity_fatu: ouuu girl you look good and a certain someone misses you👀 yanasworld: @ trinity_fatu I know americannightmarecody: hope you're coming tonight sis yanasworld: @ americannightmarecody Ofcc brother gotta come and support you 💗 jaidaparker_wwe: this is what he dumped me for? yanasworld: @ jaidaparker_wwe 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️ don't know nun about that honey aaron_ pierre1: answer my fucking calls Kiyana yaonlylivonce: she's taking it honey! yanasworld: @ yaonlylivonce thank you bestie butt 💗

Read all comments

Kiyana was on her way to the airport in an Uber, glancing at the clock and noting it was three-thirty. She felt a surge of hope that she would arrive in time for her flight to Indy. Determined to be there for him, she was also eager to support her brother and best friend on this important journey.

Kiyana arrived at the airport, pulling her luggage from the trunk as she made her way into the terminal. Approaching the reception desk, she handed over her ticket with a sense of anticipation.After checking in her luggage and presenting her ticket to the attendant, Kiyana proceeded to Gate B, ready to pass through security. She knew the routine well, preparing for the scan to ensure she was all set for her journey ahead.

She quickly gathered her belongings and glanced at the time once more, expressing her gratitude to the lady as she made her way to her flight. Fortunately, it wasn't too far away, and she noticed other passengers already boarding the plane. She joined the line, ready for her ticket to be scanned.

As Kiyana stepped onto the plane, she quickly scanned her ticket, ensuring she was in the right place. She made her way to the back, where her first-class seat awaited her. This meant she could unwind and enjoy a glass of wine, a perfect way to calm her nerves before takeoff.

Kiyana was on the verge of missing her flight to Indy, all for the chance to see this man. Can you really blame her? It had been months since their last encounter, and now he was pleading for her to visit.

The first-class seats resembled luxurious beds, and as she surveyed her fellow passengers with similar first-class tickets, she felt a sense of excitement. Upon locating her seat, she noticed a plush pillow waiting for her, signaling that a restful sleep was just moments away.

She settled into the cozy mini bed, shedding her coat to escape the recent chill, and began scrolling through her social media. As she did, she noticed that Jaida had shared something on her story, hinting that she was venting about an issue.

As she was still trying to gather her thoughts, a flight attendant approached her, presenting a bottle of fresh Stella Rose wine. With a graceful pour, she filled a wine glass and handed it to her, enhancing the moment with a touch of elegance.

She expressed her gratitude to the flight attendant before returning to investigate the reason behind Jaida's social media meltdown.

jaidaparker_wwe posted on their story!

To her astonishment, it appeared that Jey had ended their relationship prior to the Royal Rumble tonight. But what could be the reason? Was it out of guilt for how he had treated Kiyana, making her feel insignificant, or did he genuinely desire to be with her instead?

Kiyana has finally grasped the meaning behind Jaida's comment on her latest post. Initially, she brushed it off without much thought, but now it resonates with her. While she wishes she could feel upset about it, deep down, Kiyana realizes that he simply wasn't interested in her.

The pilot announced that we were ready for takeoff and reminded everyone to switch their phones to airplane mode until we reached Indianapolis. Kiyana followed the instructions, settling into her seat and pulling the covers snugly around her. As she relaxed, her eyelids grew heavy, and she soon drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

༊*·˚ Kiyana sat in her hotel room at the Marriott, eagerly anticipating the arrival of her best friend Liv. It had been far too long since they last connected, and she was excited to catch up on everything. As she waited, her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. Curiosity piqued, she opened the message and read it carefully, realizing it was from Jaida.

unknown number sent a message

unknown number: you're such a whore, you think that you're better than me?

Kiyana was shocked by Jaida's message. How could she be labeled the promiscuous one when he was the one who made the first move?

IMESSAGE 💬 Yana💗: first off he came onto me and it went off from there unknown number: did you know he was with me? Yana💗: yeah, but it seemed like he wasn't fucking with you like how he was with me 🤷🏽‍♀️ unknown number: bitch I will fuck you up Yana💗: honey you need to br worry about yourself instead of me aight? I've been call things off with him so you can leave me the fuck alone unknown number: unfortunately not if he ended things with me Yana💗: that sounds like a you problem ma'am so how about you stop playing on my phone and tread lightly m'kay?

Kiyana was just setting her phone down on the bed when a knock echoed through her room. Curiosity piqued, she made her way to the door. Upon opening it, she was greeted by the sight of her best friend, Liv, engrossed in her phone. Liv looked up, her face lighting up with a smile, and they immediately embraced in a warm, tight hug, sharing a moment of joy.

"Oh my gosh, I missed you so much. Girl you gotta catch me up on what's been happening," Liv said.

Kiyana closes the door after Liv, and they both settle onto the bed, eager to catch up on all the events that have unfolded since their last meeting.

"You been doing okay bestie?" She asked her.

Kiyana needed to confront her true feelings; she wasn't alright after all that had transpired in recent months. The situation with Jey weighed heavily on her mind, and she found herself increasingly longing for his presence.

Kiyana let out a heavy sigh, "I really miss him, Liv. I can't understand why I'm feeling this way about someone I can't even have," she expressed, her frustration evident as Liv grasped her hands. "You know, I've been chatting with Jey—he's my close friend—and it honestly seems like he misses you even more than you realize. That Jaida Parker girl has really affected him," Kiyana's expression turned to one of confusion at Liv's words.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm saying that ever since so cut things off with him Jaida has been coming around more, being clingy. Or bitchy whenever she didn't get her way with things it just been a mess,"

Kiyana was unaware of the unfolding events after she ended her relationship with Jey. However, she recognized the importance of prioritizing her own well-being, even if it meant enduring pain for a few months. The lingering doubt about whether she could ever trust him again weighed heavily on her, especially knowing that he had a tendency to manipulate her emotions.

"I don't know Liv, what if I just be like a dummy all over again losing myself because of him," Kiyana said.

"Answer me this Yaya what made you come all the way over to Indy? Because I know that you're here for one reason and that reason is Jey, he asked you to come see him. He was begging," Liv said.

Kiyana wasn't mistaken; she genuinely wanted to visit him. His words were so persuasive, expressing how much he missed her and how much he needed her support. Yet, she couldn't shake the doubt about just how deeply he felt her absence. "I came to support him, and that was my only intention."

Liv gave her that one look knowing that she was lying about her coming out to "support" him.

Kiyana missed him

She missed his lips onto hers whenever they kissed

She missed him protecting her

She even missed how their bodies were close together never leaving each other alone.

"Just think about bestie before the show starts tonight okay? I gotta go love you," she said as her and Liv hugged each other since Liv had to go back to Lucas Oil to get ready for tonight.

Kiyana sank onto the bed, her head resting against the soft pillow as she gazed up at the ceiling. Thoughts swirled in her mind about the conversation she just had with Liv. Perhaps Liv was onto something; maybe he truly missed her just as much, if not more, than she missed him.

Perhaps he was merely saying all of that to Liv to capture Kiyana's attention. Regardless of his intentions, it lingered in her mind for a moment.

Kiyana glanced at her phone and realized it was almost time to leave for the show. Determined to secure her front-row seats for the Royal Rumble, she quickly decided to get ready for an unforgettable night.

Out of the blue, her phone chimed, indicating a new message. As she picked it up from the counter, she noticed that both Jey and her brother Cody had sent her texts.

Big Papa😩 sent a message BigBrother 💪🏼 sent a message

Kiyana unlocked her phone using Face ID, eager to catch up on her messages. A few months back, after ending things with Jey and Aaron, she had deleted both of their numbers, believing they would simply move on. However, she quickly realized she was mistaken, as her phone buzzed with a flood of texts from Jey.

Aaron occasionally sent menacing messages, but she remained unfazed by them.

Big Papa😩: mamas I miss you so much

The urge to reply to him, expressing just how much she missed him as well, was overwhelming, yet she forced herself to pretend she hadn’t seen his message while she responded to her brother instead.

BigBrother💪🏼: I heard you made it to Indy safe did you need me to come get you at the hotel?

IMESSAGE 💬 Yana💗: I was about to head out right now so that I could get my seats BigBrother💪🏼: seats? Yana yk you're more than welcome to come backstage to watch it on the big screen right? Yana💗: yeah but yk I'm tryna avoid him BigBrother💪🏼: Yana...you can't be avoiding Jey forever he looks miserable Yana💗: Jesus not you too did he come talk to you? BigBrother 💪🏼: yes he did actually talk to me about you since I am your big brother ofc Yana💗: probably told you what he told Liv Cody... BigBrother💪🏼: Yana listen to me you and him just need to talk things out maybe you both need that closure that yall always wanted maybe just maybe yall could turn it into something if you just start talking to him Yana💗: Cody.... BigBrother💪🏼: you lost your virginity to him and now you have to face him Yana stop running away and just talk to him for me can you do that?

Kiyana realized her brother was correct; she needed to find the closure essential for moving forward in her life. Perhaps they could even begin anew and take their time, but uncertainty lingered in her mind.

Deep down, she understood that fleeing from him would only exacerbate the situation. This had always been her pattern—avoiding her problems since childhood and continuing into adulthood. Cody would be the first to point this out to her.

Yana💗: alright alright, I'll talk to him just for you though since you asked BigBrother💪🏼: good, now can I come pick you up from the hotel so you can watch the royal rumble Yana💗: yes you can come get me jeez why do you always gotta be right? BigBrother💪🏼: brother knows best Yana💗: 🙄🙄

She shot a quick message to her brother and then made her way to the bathroom, eager to freshen up with a quick shower before Cody arrived to pick her up from the hotel for tonight's Royal Rumble.

༊*·˚

KIYANA In Cody's locker room, I was glued to the action of the women's royal rumble when I caught wind of some returning wrestlers. The news sent a thrill through me, making me feel like a giddy fan girl inside. It reminded me of what Cody had mentioned earlier; perhaps I really did need that closure from Jey after all.

It's possible he might need this too, but I'm uncertain about whether I want to try to resolve things with him. What if he just goes back to Jaida and ends up using me as a backup for his own comfort? What if he and Jaida never truly ended their relationship? These thoughts are swirling in my mind, making it hard to think clearly.

Jey's messages flooded my phone, each one expressing how deeply he longs for my presence. It was clear he misses me immensely, and as I read through his words, I could sense a heaviness in his heart.

Was I his motivation?

Was I the person to keep him going?

As I was lost in my thoughts, a sudden knock on the door jolted me back to reality. Rising from the couch, I opened the door to find an unfamiliar figure standing before me. He was a towering 6'3", and there was something strikingly familiar about him. It dawned on me that this was Jey's twin brother, Jimmy, who greeted me with a warm smile.

"Hi, you must be Kiyana right?" Jimmy asked as I nodded my head seeing him reaching out his hand.

I shook his hand firmly before speaking, "yeah, the one and only Kiyana, I'm assuming that you're Jey's twin brother?"

"Yeah, older brother to be exact only by nine minutes." I chuckled at his comment I guess he was the funnier twin in the pack I let him inside of the locker room as I sat down on the couch lapping my leg over the other one. "So what brings you by?"

"I just wanted to introduce myself since my brother hadn't got the chance to do so, speaking of him does he know that you're here?" I shook my head.

"No, he doesn't know that I'm here tonight I've been trying to avoid him if I'm being honest," Jimmy raised an eyebrow at me almost questioning my actions.

"Why?"

It was complicated to explain but knowing that Jey he probably telling his brother everything it seems like he already knew why I was trying to avoid Jey at all cost, I shrugged my shoulders not wanting to speak on the situation. "Mmcht, C'mon now Kiyana,"

"I simply don’t want to talk to him," I replied, resting my chin on my hand and turning my gaze to the TV. "You really should have a conversation, though. Don’t misunderstand me; I did give him a heads-up about you, advising him to tread carefully since you seemed like someone who avoids drama and focuses on yourself—until all this chaos erupted. By the way, did you hear that Jaida discovered your involvement?"

I was truly taken aback by how she managed to obtain my phone number just to bombard me with absurd threats. It’s not shocking, though.

"Is that how she got my phone number? Going through his phone? Crazy right?" Jimmy threw his hands up in defense.

"I didn't know nun about that honestly, but I guess you can say something like that. Almost seems like to me that my brother was sprung and still is," What did he mean that Jey was still sprung over me?

"Sprung?" Jimmy nodded his head before continuing on, "Look, I already knew the signs that my brother was hooked on to you especially with him buying you things and that after party he was pretty jealous." I can recall that night him showing off his dominance and possessiveness over me when we weren't even together.

I had grin on my face hearing him mentioning that night between me and his brother.

Jimmy emphasized, "That's not the main issue; the real issue is that he looks genuinely unhappy after you shut him out. I understand it was for a valid reason, but I really think you should check in on him either before or after tonight." I listened carefully, nodding in agreement.

Perhaps Jimmy and Cody were onto something; it might be wise for me to check in on him to ensure he's doing okay. However, I think I’ll hold off for now and consider it after tonight.

Feeling the weight of our conversation, I chose to step out of the locker room for a moment to catch some fresh air and grab a bite to eat, especially since I planned to stay here until I met up with Jey. Just as I was about to leave, I caught the sound of two familiar voices arguing around the corner. Curiosity got the better of me, and when I peeked around, I was taken aback to see Jey and Jaida in a heated exchange, going at it with each other.

It seemed as though they were in a heated discussion about me, with her expressing a desire to rekindle things with him.

"Jaida I don't want to be with you anymore, I done told yo' ass this over and over again."

"What does this bitch have that I don't?"

"Don't disrespect her in front of me Jaida, and she's had a lot to give unlike you clinging onto me,"

"Because you're my man? It's wrong to cling onto someone that you're with?"

"But we wasn't together you were just a fling remember? You could never be like her Jaida, never,"

The moment he compared me to Jaida, a warm sensation washed over me. I was taken aback, unsure of how to process it, especially knowing that he was as captivated by me as his twin brother had mentioned.

"You ain't shit Jey, you didn't even want the girl and now all of sudden when she cuts you off for treating her like a second choice now you have caught some sort of feelings for her?"

"Tell me something did you fuck her after seeing me?"

A hush fell over the room as Jaida stood there, arms crossed, eagerly awaiting his response.

"Yeah, I did fuck her and a fucked her good too she's so much better than yo—"

A faint sound reverberated down the hallway, unmistakably the sound of her hand connecting with Jey's face, cutting him off mid-sentence. I stood there, captivated, as the entire scene played out before my eyes.

He remained silent, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him as he navigated this difficult situation with her. Why would he choose to endure the chaos she brings when it's clear that all she does is create turmoil?

"I hope you lose tonight you fuck boy,"

I watched as Jaida walked away, leaving Jey standing there. I hesitated, unsure if I should go up to him; it clearly wasn't the right moment. Instead, I chose to return to Cody's locker room.

As I closed the door, my phone vibrated in my hand. I noticed another message from Jey, and guilt washed over me for not replying sooner.

Big Papa😩 sent a message

Big Papa😩: mamas please talk to me I need you like really fucking need you to be here

I let out a heavy sigh, fully aware that he was making a frantic effort to capture my attention. But did he truly merit it? Considering all the turmoil he caused me throughout our time together, I couldn't help but question whether he was worth my focus at all.

Aaron may have acted worse, but Jey was playing with my emotions, making me believe I had a chance with him while he was still with Jaida. Even though my brother and his brother suggested we should have a conversation to find some closure, it still left me feeling confused and hurt.

I had decided not to text him right away; I planned to wait until the night was over. However, my phone buzzed again with another message from him.

Big Papa😩: Kiyana please...I need you...like really need you...

He needed me? Just how badly was he feeling right now?

I didn't know what to do.

I reached out to my brother for his thoughts on my next steps. I'm inclined to hold off until the main event tonight, but it appears he's dealing with some challenges of his own.

IMESSAGE 💬 Yana💗: brother? BigBrother💪🏼: what's up? Yana💗: Jey is going through it rn and I don't know what to do BigBrother💪🏼: I told you what you needed to do so do it for me sis please Yana💗: what about all of those times he treated me like a second option? So what? I'm supposed to show up for him? BigBrother💪🏼: Kiyana that was in the past I know he did some messed up things to you but remember Aaron did worse

Aaron was indeed mistaken; he treated me worse than Jey did. At least Jey never pressured me; our connection was spontaneous, igniting a spark whenever we met. That kind of chemistry was something Aaron lacked during our time together.

I received another message from Jey, but this time it was a voice note. Hearing him sob was truly heartbreaking; it pained me to listen to his distress.

Big Papa 😩 sent a voice message

Big Papa😩: mamas...fucking please...I need you right now I'm losing my mind and focus....i fucking need you...all of you please...

As I rose from the couch, a wave of concern washed over me for him. Clutching my purse, I made my way to his locker room, dreading the thought of seeing him in such a state before the men's Royal Rumble. It was crucial for me to check on him and ensure he was alright.

I understand the impact of his past actions on me, and while it hurt deeply, I refused to let him wallow in his own misery. I held no grudges; my love for him remains strong even now. As I approached his locker room, I felt a wave of nerves wash over me as I knocked on the door.

It had been a while since we last met, but I could sense he needed my support right now. As the door swung open, there he stood, dressed in his vibrant all-pink yeet outfit, shirtless and sporting a playful pink lei around his neck.

He always manages to look impressive, yet I could see the pain in his eyes, a clear sign that he had been crying. It shattered my heart as I stood on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck in a comforting embrace.

He paused for a moment, processing my movements, and then it hit him: it was me, feeling the strength of his arms encircling my waist. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him as he effortlessly lifted me into his locker room.

He held me tightly, enveloped in my fragrance, his lips brushing against my cheek as he showered me with gentle kisses, reluctant to let me go.

"I'm here Joshua, I'm here." I whispered in his ear while stroking my fingers through his mullet.

I felt his hands exploring my body, his gaze locked onto mine as his gentle lips met my own. I didn’t pull away; this was a moment we both craved.

As our mouths danced together, I could feel his hands softly gripping my hips, guiding our intimate connection.

"I missed you so much Kiyana, you don't know how badly I fucking missed you." He muttered between the kiss.

The kiss was intense and fervent, as if we hadn't been apart for just a few months but for years. When we finally broke away to catch our breath, our eyes locked in a deep gaze, our foreheads touching, creating an electric connection that spoke volumes.

He placed another soft kiss on my lips pulling away in the process. "I missed you mamas so fucking much," I gave him a faint smile on my face caressing his face.

His expressive puppy eyes revealed everything; he truly missed me. As tears began to well up, I gently wiped them away while he clasped my hands with his large ones.

"I missed you too," I confessed.

"But after tonight we need have a talk, a serious conversation about all of this okay? I need you to get it together for the main event tonight aight? Do it for me," Jey nodded his head as he began to get himself together fixing his Lei on his neck giving me a kiss on the lips before heading towards the gorilla.

༊*·˚

Jey had just clinched victory at the Royal Rumble, and the pride and cheers from everyone around him were palpable. As we took a drive to discuss everything, the atmosphere was electric. We were immersed in the rhythm of his playlist, sharing a blunt while he expertly navigated the road ahead.

I inhaled a few puffs from the blunt, exhaling the smoke into the air before passing it down to him. As I glanced out the window, I noticed we were approaching Canal Walk, a serene and secluded spot perfect for a stroll and an intimate conversation.

He shifted the car into park and turned off the engine as we both stepped out, making our way to the stairs. He took my hand, guiding me down the steps, the blunt resting in his other hand.

As we strolled along the Canal Strip, our fingers intertwined, we engaged in conversation. I had missed moments like this more than I can express.

"I'm proud of you for winning the Royal Rumble tonight," I said taking the blunt from his hand while taking a puff from it.

"Thank you mama, I really needed you here today, I just missed you a lot." Jey responded looking at me.

"I missed you too, you know my brother convinced me to talk to you. I didn't really want too because I was scared," I earned a chuckle from him as his gorgeous smile appeared on his face, "I get it, you were probably doing yo' own thang. Meanwhile I'm over here missing you,"

As we strolled along the Canal Strip, I exchanged a smile with him, our eyes locking in a moment of connection. We passed beneath the bridge, catching sight of the ducks gliding gracefully on the water. Eventually, we paused at the waterfall, captivated by the sight of fish darting playfully beneath the surface.

We enjoyed the moment, passing the blunt and feeling an exhilarating high, stealing glances at one another. Suddenly, I heard him call out to me, "Mamas." I turned to see him approaching, his hands gently resting on my hips.

Our gazes locked for a brief moment, enveloped in silence as we stood side by side, absorbing the soothing sound of water cascading along the riverbank.

"Can we start over?" His voice was gentle and tender when he posed the question. I had always yearned to begin anew with him, to set things right. However, I was determined not to be anyone's second option.

I interlocked his hands into mines, "If we start over again I don't want to be nobody's second option and I want us to take things slow this time and do it right no bullshit Jey I'm serious," I said.

"I promise mama, I don't want you slip away from me ever again. You're all I need," he said as he pressed a soft tender kiss on my lips.

We spent the remainder of the night wandering along the Canal, sharing laughter and playful moments. Just as I was lost in the joy of the evening, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a chilling message from Aaron that left me momentarily paralyzed.

Aaron🙂‍↕️ sent a message

Aaron🙂‍↕️: you fucking bitch when I get my hands on you I swear to god you'll be begging for that nigga Jey to save you watch yo' back

The threat he made to lay his hands on me filled me with fear; I had never encountered a situation like this before. Jey, sensing that something was off, began to walk in my direction.

He held my phone, scanning through Aaron's message, and I could see the anger simmering in his eyes, yet he managed to maintain his composure.

He grasped my chin making me look at him in his eyes, "he won't do anything to you mama, imma protect you aight?"

I listened intently, nodding in agreement as he softly pressed his lips against my cheek.

This was going to be a long ride.

Sneaky Link

A/n: Let's see how Kiyana and Jey will navigate their relationship with all of the drama happening between Aaron.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below

STAY UCEY 4.

#jey uso #black fanfic writer #black oc #black writers #jey x oc black #jey uso fanfiction #wwelove #black reader #jey uso smut #wwe fanfiction #Spotify

83 notes · View notes

celestialgallaghers · 3 days ago

Text

Double Dare Ya [18+]

I realize this follows a similar pattern to my last post, but I love the enemies to lovers trope what can I say. The truth or dare trope is also overdone but this is MY fictional story and I make the rules.

Also the title is from the Bikini Kill song, which really has no relevance to the plot but popped into my head when I was trying to think of a name for this.

--------------------------------------------------------

Summary: Your friend introduces you to Noel at a club, and you clash with him almost immediately. You want nothing to do with him, but something about your refusal to fall for his charms piques his interest.

Word count: 7.1k

--------------------------------------------------------

You were never sure what to expect when Jo invited you out. She was always more outgoing than you, more embedded in the scene, so you’d at least figured it would be a typical night. Loud, chaotic, and full of people who thought themselves far more interesting than they actually were.

What you didn’t expect was Noel Gallagher.

You knew who he was, obviously. Oasis was everywhere. You liked their music well enough, but you never thought you’d come face to face with any of them. Apparently, that was changing tonight.

The club was dimly lit and buzzing with noise when you arrived. Jo spotted some of her friends and immediately dragged you over, squealing as she hugged them. You offered a small wave, recognizing a few faces from previous outings. They weren’t really your crowd. Often fake, too caught up in their own self-importance, and quick to look down their noses at anyone not dressed head to toe in designer.

Jo, at least, was genuine. You’d known her forever, watching as she clawed her way up from nothing to a high class career as an event planner. These people had connections, the kind that could make or break her career. So, as much as you disliked them, you kept your mouth shut.

Sliding into the booth beside her, you already felt out of place. You indulged her with these nights out every so often, but they always ended the same. You’d drink more than intended just to tolerate the company.

“Noel!” Jo cried suddenly. “This is my best friend.”

You turned just in time to see none other than Noel Gallagher approaching, a leggy blonde in tight clothing clinging to his arm. You weren’t quite sure what to make of him. Instinctively, you were wary of fame. It could go either way. Some celebrities turned out to be just regular people, while others were so self-important they refused to come down from their high horse. Right now, you were inclined to believe Noel fell into the latter category.

He barely glanced at you, offering a quick nod of acknowledgment before sliding into the seat across from you. “Alright?”

You nodded back, polite but unenthusiastic. You had no real interest in getting to know him. There was an air of arrogant indifference about him that immediately put you off.

Drinks appeared suddenly, and you gladly grabbed one, taking a long sip. This was going to be a long night.

As the evening dragged on, you found yourself saying less and less. Not because you were shy, but because you couldn’t relate to the conversation. Industry gossip, name-dropping, pointless chatter about who had fallen out with who. It was monotonous.

The blonde Noel was toting around was now perched in his lap, lavishing him with attention. You tried to ignore them, but her incessant (and no doubt fake) giggling cut through any and all conversation, making it impossible.

Jo and her friends had gone off to dance, and no matter how many times she pouted, you kept turning her down. This left you alone at the booth, spare a few of Noel’s friends at the opposite end and, of course, Noel himself.

You slid down the booth, making an effort to talk to his friends, but they didn’t really seem interested. Resigning yourself, you leaned back, sipping your drink, half-listening to the conversations around you.

At one point, your gaze flickered toward Noel and the blonde, now fiercely locked in a kiss, if you could even call it that. Her hands roamed over him, and she giggled whenever he squeezed her ass. You knew you shouldn’t be watching really, it felt borderline voyeuristic, but there was something fascinating about the sheer display of hedonism that surrounded the “rock star” ethos. Like he was playing a role simply because he could. Because it was easy.

Suddenly, as if he was sensing your gaze, his eyes opened and locked onto yours.

Instinct told you to look away, but you refused to let him intimidate you. Unfortunately, your defiance only seemed to amuse him. His kisses slowed as he lazily caressed the blonde’s breast, clearly testing your reaction.

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you drained your drink, rising to get another. When you returned, the blonde was gone.

“Care to take her place?” The words stopped you in your tracks. You spun to find Noel smirking up at you. He leaned back, spreading his legs expectantly.

You paused, staring at him in disbelief.

“I’ll pass, thanks,” you said dryly, moving to leave. But before you could, he reached out, fingers wrapping gently around your wrist.

Your gaze dropped to where his hand gripped your arm. His thumb was idly brushing against your skin, as if that alone would entice you. A short, bemused laugh escaped you as you yanked your arm free.

“You really think you can get any woman to fall at your feet on command?”

“Oh I know I can, love,” he said, tilting his head, regarding you with amusement. “Saw you watching us. I know you're interested.”

His all-knowing tone and self-satisfied smirk made your blood boil. Despite yourself, warmth crept into your face, but thankfully it was dark enough that he wouldn’t notice. You were starting to wish you hadn’t done that. It had gotten his attention, and now he was running with it.

You scoffed. “I was only staring because I’ve never seen someone so desperate to prove he’s the archetypical rock star. Do you even know that girl's name?”

He thought for a moment before grinning. “Not the foggiest.”

“My point exactly.” You narrowed your eyes. “You just use women and toss them aside the minute they stop serving a purpose.”

“What can I say?” he said with a shrug, eyes flickering down your body before meeting your gaze again. “Comes with the job title. Sex, drugs, and rock n roll. That’s the package.”

“Yeah, well, you're not as charming as you think, believe it or not,” you shot back, before turning on your heel to find Jo. Dancing was seeming far more appealing than wasting another minute on his arrogance.

Noel watched you go, but you’d made your mark. And he was never one to back down from a challenge.

Another drink deep, and the atmosphere was starting to suffocate you. You needed fresh air. And a cigarette.

Outside, the night air was sharp against your skin, a welcome contrast to the thick heat of the club. You leaned against the wall, fishing a cigarette from your pack and placing it between your lips.

You’d just flicked your lighter open when the door swung wide, noise spilling out before it slammed shut again.

“Got one for me?”

You exhaled sharply through your nose. Noel.

Had he followed you out here? Christ, all you’d wanted was a quiet moment alone.

Glancing at him, you sighed. He stood there, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, as if he already knew you’d say yes.

“All that money, and you don’t have your own?”

He just shrugged, a smirk ghosting over his lips.

You wanted to lie, to tell him it was your last one so he’d leave you alone, but for some reason, you didn’t. With another sigh, you extended your pack.

“Got a light?” His smirk deepened.

“Jesus, want me to smoke it for you too?” you muttered.

You flicked the lighter open and held the flame out for him. He leaned in, taking his time, inhaling slowly as his gaze flicked up to yours. The brief glow of the flame caught in his eyes, making them seem even brighter, more piercing.

He took another drag, eyes closing as he relished the rush of nicotine. For a fleeting second, he wasn’t Noel Gallagher, just a man taking a quiet drag of a cigarette. Just existing.

Then he opened his mouth again.

“I meant what I said earlier, y'know. ‘Bout replacing her. Think you’d look good in my lap.”

Irritation flared in your chest. “Have I not made it abundantly clear that I’m not interested?”

He didn’t even blink. “Nah. You’re just stubborn.”

You let out a short, incredulous laugh. “You really do think you’re irresistible, don’t you?”

Noel leaned in slightly, dropping his voice to something low and smooth. “I don’t think, love. I know.”

Then, his gaze dipped lower, a slow, deliberate sweep before flicking back up. It was then you realized your nipples had peaked against your top thanks to the chill in the air.

His smirk turned downright wicked.

“Cold?”

You folded your arms across your chest and shot him a glare. “Oh, piss off.”

He laughed, exhaling smoke, eyes glinting with mischief. “I would, but I’m having too much fun.”

“This is fun to you?”

He took another drag from his cigarette, savoring it before slowly releasing the smoke. “Oh yeah,” he murmured, voice low. “Watching you try to pretend you don’t want me? It’s riveting.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “You're deluded if you think this”—you gestured between the two of you—“is me pretending. I’m not interested. You're only here because I’m not giving you what you want.”

He leaned in slightly, voice smooth, teasing. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But I think you're a lot more fun than you let on. Bit of fire under that cool exterior, yeah?”

You met his gaze, a mocking smile tugging at your lips. “Could be. But you’ll never find out.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’ve got a way of getting to know people, love. You wouldn’t believe the things I can figure out.”

You raised an eyebrow, arms still crossed, tension thick in the space between you. “Is that so? What, you think you’ve cracked the code already?”

He shrugged, taking another drag, eyes never leaving yours. “I think I’m just getting started.”

He was staring at you in a way that was making your skin prickle and you’d just about had enough. You flicked your cigarette away, crushing under your heel aggressively.

“Yeah, well, don’t waste your time,” you spat vehemently. “I wouldn’t touch you in a million years.”

❦ ❦ ❦

A few months later, you got a call from Jo, her voice practically buzzing through the receiver.

“Hey! So, listen I have a plus one for this festival, and you’re coming with me.”

You raised an eyebrow, already suspicious. “What festival?”

“The one Oasis is playing at,” she said brightly.

Your stomach turned. You hadn’t seen Noel since that disastrous night out. The one that had confirmed, without a doubt, that he was exactly the pompous asshole the media made him out to be.

“C’mon, it’ll be amazing! Noel invited us.”

You scoffed. “He invited you. If I never see him again, it’ll be too soon.”

Jo groaned. “Why don’t you like him?”

You blinked. Was she serious?

“For starters, he’s an arrogant prick,” you said flatly.

“Oh, come on! If you actually got to know him, you’d see he’s not really like that.”

You let out a short laugh. “And why the hell would I want to do that?”

“Because,” she said, dragging the word out, “I think he likes you.”

You nearly choked. “Likes me? What gave you that idea?”

“He was flirting with you at that club.”

You scoffed again. “Please, that was all an act. He was just lookin’ for a shag.”

“I dunno,” she sing-songed. “He was asking about you after you left.”

You froze for half a second before shaking your head. “You’re delusional. There’s absolutely no way he was being genuine.”

Jo just hummed, like she wasn’t convinced but also wasn’t going to argue. “Okay, whatever you say.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. Something told you she wasn’t going to drop this.

“So, are you coming or what?”

You hesitated. You did like Oasis—as a band. It was just one particular member you had an issue with. Or, well, maybe two. You hadn’t met Liam yet, and god knows he’d probably be even worse than Noel.

“Fine,” you sighed.

Jo whooped so loudly you had to hold the phone away from your ear.

“This is going to be amazing!”

You exhaled, telling yourself it would be fine. Fun, even. But as you hung up, a weird feeling settled in your stomach.

❦ ❦ ❦

The festival arrived sooner than you’d expected. You planned to avoid Noel as much as feasibly possible. With thousands of people and dozens of bands, it shouldn’t be difficult. Jo had scored passes, and she practically dragged you through the festival grounds, buzzing with excitement as she led the way to the Oasis tent. They weren’t playing until later, and there were plenty of other artists you actually wanted to see in the meantime.

When you arrived, Noel was already there, leaning against a table, cigarette dangling between his fingers as he spoke to a reporter with an air of bored ease. You lingered at a distance, watching the way he gestured with his hands, flicking his cigarette as he spoke. There was something almost effortless about the way he carried himself. Like he knew the world revolved around him.

The interview wrapped up, and before you could make yourself scarce, his eyes landed on you. Jo had gone to grab drinks, and you cursed the timing. You considered walking away, but that felt too much like surrender.

Noel sauntered over, smirk already in place. “Fancy seeing you here, love.”

“I’m just here with Jo to enjoy the festival,” you said dryly, waving your hand in dismissal.

His smirk deepened. “Just here to enjoy the festival, eh? You don’t exactly look thrilled to see me.”

You scoffed. “And why would I be?”

Noel chuckled, feigning mock hurt. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe it’s because you’re in my band’s tent. You're welcome, by the way,” he teased. “I knew you'd be back for more.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. It was time to shut this down. “Y’know this is why I can’t stand you, Noel. You're so full of yourself that it’s nauseating. You walk around like you expect everyone to kiss your ass just ‘cause of who you are,” you snapped. “Get over yourself.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your outburst, but it didn’t seem to bother him much.

“Sweetheart,” he drawled, “you could hardly keep your eyes off me the last time we were in the same room and you know it.”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “Really? That’s not what I’ve heard. In fact, I think you might be a little obsessed with me.”

Something flickered in his expression, just for a second. “Obsessed with you, huh?” he mused. “I was just tryin’ to show you a good time.”

“I can manage that on my own, thanks,” you shot back, finally turning on your heel. You weren’t sure why you’d even humored him that long. You should’ve walked away ages ago.

The day blurred into music, laughter, and the occasional warm buzz of beer. You and Jo wandered the festival grounds, catching different acts and soaking in the atmosphere. As the sun dipped lower and Oasis’s set time approached, Jo insisted on getting as close as possible—to Noel’s side of the stage, of course.

“I don’t get it,” you mused, genuinely perplexed as you stood beside her. “What do people even see in him?”

Jo laughed, taking a sip of her beer. “You mean aside from the fact that he’s insanely talented, handsome, and successful?”

As if on cue, the crowd erupted as Noel took his place on stage, fingers finding the strings of his guitar with practiced ease.

Jo nudged you. “And he’s got that whole swagger, don’t you think?”

You flicked your eyes toward him. “You call it swagger, I call it annoyingly self-absorbed,” you huffed.

Jo chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. “You know, it’s okay to admit you find him attractive,” she teased, giving you a knowing glance. “I see through your little act of indifference.”

You let out a shocked laugh. “All I see when I look at him is a self-assured prick.”

“Well, he is a self-assured prick, I’ll give you that. But you can at least admit he’s an attractive self-assured prick,” she challenged, waggling her brows at you.

You shook your head in disbelief and fixed your gaze elsewhere. The only thing you’d admit about Noel was that he was talented. That was all.

And yet, somehow, your gaze kept drifting back to him.

There was something different about the way he played. He looked completely lost in it, mind, body, and soul poured into his guitar. Sweat dripped down his face as he screwed it up in concentration. It seemed to be the only thing he was truly sincere about.

The way his mouth hung open as he played, fingers moving expertly across the fretboard, eyes slightly lidded—you supposed you could see why people found him attractive.

Not you, though. Obviously.

At some point, you’d wandered off through the festival grounds alone, the distant thump of music vibrating through the soles of your boots. The warm night air carried the scent of damp grass and spilled beer. Several hours had passed, and you figured it was time to head back before Jo started thinking you’d been kidnapped.

When you finally spotted her, she was already grinning. “We were just about to find a quiet spot for a joint. You’re coming,” she declared, grabbing your wrist before you could protest. And, well, you’d never been one to turn down free weed.

Jo dragged you across the field toward Noel and his usual entourage.

“Oi! Found our little lost lamb, did ya?” Noel called out as you approached.

Jo chuckled, plopping down on the grass beside him, where he was leaning back against a log. “Yeah, had to pry her away from some poor crew member she was boring to death,” she teased, nudging you.

Noel smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, she’s a master at boring people, is she?”

You shot him a glare before settling down on the opposite side of Jo.

As the joint made its way around, you felt yourself begin to relax. The music from nearby stages blurred into a distant hum, while the festival lights cast soft glows over your surroundings. You were properly stoned. A lazy smile stayed fixed on your lips as you laughed at whatever ridiculous story was being told. The fact that it was Noel telling it didn’t even bother you. You were too blissed out to care.

Noel, on the other hand, found himself sneaking glances at you. You almost seemed like a different person like this, not as uptight or dismissive. You even met his eyes a few times with a hazy smile instead of a scowl. It was... interesting to say the least.

As the night wore on, the group gradually dwindled until it was just you, Jo, and Noel left. Surprisingly, the Noel sitting here now was different from the one who had tried to lure you in at the club. He wasn’t putting on an act or trying to wind you up, he was just... normal. Cracking jokes, actually making you laugh. You much preferred this version of him, though you weren’t about to let your guard down completely.

Suddenly Jo rose from between you and Noel, dusting off her jeans before moving to sit across from you. There was a mischievous glint in her eye

Noel’s gaze flicked toward her, immediately suspicious. “What’s that look for, eh?” he questioned.

“Oh, nothing,” Jo said innocently, stretching out her legs. “I just figured now was a good time for the two of you to get to know each other. Y’know, so you don’t loathe each other anymore.”

It took a moment for her words to register, the remnants of your high still lingering. You lolled your head toward Noel, trying to gauge his reaction.

Noel raised an eyebrow, amused. “Loathe each other, do we?” His smirk deepened as he held your gaze. “Dunno if I’d go that far.”

Something about his tone made you laugh. You wanted to argue, to tell him just how wrong he was, but the whole situation was too ridiculous.

Your laughter must have been contagious because Noel chuckled too. It was the first time the two of you had laughed together instead of at each other. He leaned back against the log, eyeing you with curiosity. “What’s so funny?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you reached over and shoved him. Just because.

Noel toppled over with an exaggerated grunt, landing on his side in the grass. He stared up at you, mock outrage on his face. “Oi! Watch it, you little brute,” he said, a laugh escaping him as he pushed himself upright.

You dissolved into another fit of giggles. At that moment, he was actually entertaining to you.

As Noel brushed stray bits of grass from his clothes, he studied you. There was something about your laugh—genuine, unguarded. It wasn’t something that he heard often and he liked it more than he cared to admit.

“Now, now,” Jo piped up, shaking her head. “Violence isn’t the answer.”

You turned back to her, nearly forgetting she was there. What you didn’t notice was Noel still watching you, his expression unreadable.

“So,” you said, “how exactly do you propose we get to know each other?”

Jo grinned. “How about a game?”

You narrowed your eyes. “What kind of game?”

“Hmm… how about truth or dare,” Jo suggested, her smile all too pleased with itself.

You chuckled dryly before noticing her face. “Oh you’re actually serious.”

“Dead serious.”

You sighed. “Fine. Whatever.” She would badger you until you gave in if you refused.

Noel smirked at your reluctant agreement. “You sure you’re up for this?” he teased.

As you leaned back against the log, you noticed that he’d shifted slightly closer. Not that you were paying attention.

You turned your head, meeting his gaze. “Bring it on, dickhead.”

Noel let out a low chuckle. “Alright. But remember you asked for it.”

Jo clapped her hands together. “Okay, I’ll go first,” she said eagerly, eyes flicking between the two of you. “Truth or dare?” she asked, looking directly at you.

You exhaled, already regretting this. “Truth.”

Jo tapped her chin, pretending to be deep in thought before smirking. “Alright, truth… how do you really feel about Noel?”

You stared at her for a moment, immediately seeing what she was trying to do. Force some kind of truce between you two. Well, you wouldn’t buy into it.

“You already know how I feel,” you said flatly.

“Yes, but do you find him attractive?” Jo pressed.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “That’s another question and I do believe that it’s my turn now.”

Jo pouted dramatically. “You’re no fun.”

Noel, who had been watching the exchange intently, let out a quiet chuckle.

You sighed, turning to face him. “Alright, Noel. Truth or dare?”

Noel met your gaze, his eyes narrowing as he tried to gauge your intentions.

“Dare” he finally said, tone challenging.

Jo whooped in approval but quickly stifled it with a hand over her mouth.

You tilted your head, considering. Then an idea struck. “I dare you to let Jo punch you in the arm as hard as she can.”

Jo tsked, clearly displeased.

Noel, however, barely reacted, save for a scoff. “Is that all?” he said lazily, shifting closer to where Jo sat. “Go on, love. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Jo hesitated before throwing a half-hearted punch at his arm.

Noel barely flinched. He turned to you with a smug smirk.

“Oh come on you can do better than that,” you scoffed. “Hit him!”

Jo narrowed her eyes at you, then swung again, this time harder. Noel winced slightly, rubbing his arm.

“Happy now?” he asked, moving back against the log.

“Very,” you said with a satisfied smirk.

“Brat,” he muttered under his breath, still rubbing his arm. “My turn now innit?”

Noel leaned back, glancing at Jo. “Alright, truth or dare?”

Jo grinned. “Dare.”

A slow smirk spread across Noel’s face. “I dare you to leave us alone for ten minutes.”

Your head snapped toward him. Sure, you were slightly more at ease around him now, but that was with the buffer of drugs and Jo. You weren’t sure you wanted to be alone with him again.

“And how is that a good dare?!” you sputtered.

Noel chuckled. “It’s a perfectly good dare. Right, Jo?”

Jo nodded and stood up. Traitor.

“Mhm, but let me get one last turn first,” she said, looking at you. “Truth or dare?”

You were over this. It felt like you were being toyed with. You ran your fingers through your hair and huffed. “Fine Jo. Dare.”

“I dare you to… kiss Noel. With tongue.” she said before darting away, leaving you stunned.

Surely she wasn’t serious.

Kiss him. With tongue. Her words weren’t binding. This was a children's game for christ sake. But something about the thought stirred an unidentifiable feeling in you.

“I’m sorry but there’s no way I’m doing that” you said, huffing a laugh.

Absolutely not.

Right?

Noel smirked, but there was something else behind it. Something unreadable. “What, afraid you’ll like it too much?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Afraid I’ll throw up, more like.”

He chuckled, amused at your outrage. “Or maybe,” he mused, tilting his head, “you’re a terrible kisser and you’re trying to get out of it.”

You sat up, suddenly offended. “I’ll have you know that I’m a great kisser,” you shot back, voice full of indignation. “I’ve had plenty of positive feedback.”

Noel let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying how worked up you were. “Is that right?” he murmured, eyes gleaming. “Got any proof of that?”

You faltered for a moment before realizing what he was doing. And worse, you had walked straight into it.

The gears in your brain turned. The thing was, some distant part of you was curious. The tiny, treacherous part that found him alluring.

He did have nice lips. The thought surfaced unbidden, and once it took root, it wouldn’t leave. You tried to shove it away, but curiosity had already won.

You thought for a moment. If you played this right, you could act like it was all just to prove a point. Nothing more.

“I’ll show you proof,” you said, voice steady, as you slid closer to him.

“Go on then,” he taunted.

Your eyes flicked down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. A flicker of something crossed his face. Anticipation maybe? You could hardly believe what you were about to do, but inched closer despite yourself.

He was too close now. Or maybe you were. Either way, the air had shifted, something unsaid crackling between you.

Noel’s breath shallowed. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you caught yourself tracking the movement before you could stop. You’d never been so close to him before. Now you could see the details. The long lashes, the sharpness of his features, the maddening blue of his eyes.

He opened his mouth, no doubt to taunt you for taking so long. But before he could get the words out, you surged forward, crashing your lips against his.

A sharp inhale left his throat, almost a gasp. The sound sent a strange bolt of… something through you.

His lips were warm, softer than you would’ve expected. Your heart rate kicked up, but you reasoned it was just a pavlovian response. You pressed against him, letting the kiss linger a second longer than necessary, just enough to prove your point.

Then your lips grazed a particularly sensitive spot on his mouth and another soft sound, half-surprised, half-wanting, escaped his throat.

You had to stop this. Now.

You pulled back just enough to break the kiss, his breath warm against your lips. The world had shrunk to just the two of you.

Noel was leaning in, just slightly, like he was chasing the contact.

For the first time since you’d met him, his expression was completely unguarded. He looked vulnerable. Uncertain. Like he wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened.

It caught you off guard.

You swallowed, forcing composure. “You call that good kissing?” you said, voice steadier than you felt. It was meant to be a taunt, but the usual malice wasn’t there.

Noel let out a bark of laughter. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

A flicker of annoyance, mixed with something else, something darker and more dangerous, ran through you.

“Are you calling me a bad kisser?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” His smirk was back now, arrogant and lazy, like he hadn’t just been thrown by a simple kiss.

You smiled sweetly. “Fine.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, you slid your hand over the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as you yanked him toward you.

He barely had time to react before your lips crashed onto his again, this time with intent.

You pressed in close, your body crowding against his. Your lips slotted together again, starting slow, teasing, but quickly deepening. You weren’t holding back, pouring everything into this kiss, testing him, challenging him as your mouths moved together in a heated fury. You weren’t sure if it was about proving a point or something else entirely now.

Then your tongue slipped into his mouth.

The second they touched, electricity sizzled down your spine, hot and consuming.

He reciprocated with a sigh, and damn it, he was good. Really good. It was maddening.

He tasted like smoke and something sharp and earthy. Pine, maybe, from the trees surrounding you. Either way, you liked it. Couldn’t get enough of it in fact.

Your teeth found his bottom lip, biting down just enough to make him gasp before letting go, watching the way it recoiled, swollen and slick.

The low, ragged sound that tore from his throat sent a shockwave through you.

The way he was reacting was shocking to say the very least. He seemed so… needy. Desperate. A strange tug pulled at something deep inside you. This was a side of him you would’ve never guessed existed. And for some reason, it was coming out here, now, with you. You wanted to see just how far you could push him.

Then, hands were on your waist.

You nearly jolted, unused to his touch. But instead of pulling away, you leaned in further, tongues colliding again.

Something was happening between you, something messy and volatile, where your hatred was starting to blur into something far more perverse. You wondered, distantly, how often he found himself in this position. Your guess was not often. Why he was allowing it, you weren’t sure, but you’d take as much as he’d give.

You pulled back slightly, dragging his tongue with you before sucking on it, gentle but firm. His fingers dug into your waist in response, his breath stuttering as a quiet, barely restrained curse slipped past his lips.

That sound. That voice. It sent a rush straight to your head.

Noel Gallagher, reduced to this. Because of you.

The realization sent a thrill through you, equal parts amazement and ego. You wanted, no, needed to see him break.

You leaned back slightly, letting your gaze rake over him. His lips were red and bruised, his face flushed, chest rising and falling too fast. His mouth hung open slightly, like he was still chasing the taste of you.

A sight for sore eyes.

You smirked, reaching up to tilt his head slightly, baring his neck to you.

“So you admit it,” you murmured, your voice lower now. “That I’m the better kisser.”

His breath hitched, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Not a chance,” he shot back, though his words lacked their usual bite, undercut by his uneven breathing.

“Wrong answer,” you whispered deviously, lips barely grazing his skin before you slowly slid a knee against his crotch, smirking when you felt the strain there.

A sharp gasp tore from his throat, his hips jerking forward instinctively. He tried to recover, to take control, pushing his tongue into your mouth again, but he was slipping. You could feel it.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his grip tightening on your hips.

You placed a slow, deliberate trail of kisses from the corner of his lips, down the sharp edge of his jaw. When you reached the spot just below his ear, you lingered, pressing an open-mouthed kiss there before adding just a little more pressure with your knee.

“How about now?” you whispered against his skin.

His breathing was ragged, coming in short, desperate bursts. He was barely holding it together, his control hanging by a thread.

“Still not… convinced…” he managed, voice hoarse, roughened by something between desire and frustration.

Then you dragged your teeth over the shell of his ear, biting down just enough to make him shudder.

That did it.

A low, guttural moan escaped from deep in his chest, raw and unfiltered. His hands spasmed on your waist. His resistance was crumbling fast, and you knew there was no coming back from this.

“God… damn it,” he gasped.

Your resolve solidified. He was losing this battle, and you both knew it. And victory tasted so sweet.

You moved lower, lips ghosting over his neck before latching onto his pulse point, sucking just enough to make him curse under his breath.

He was unraveling, coming apart at the seams. His body was reacting vehemently to your touch. Every touch, every shift of your knee, every brush of your lips made him react like a man starved of touch.

He was losing himself in this. In you. And you were loving every second of it.

“Please…” he breathed, voice strained, almost desperate.

His hips bucked slightly against your knee, his body betraying him, making his need painfully obvious. You were right there with him, but at least you were better at hiding it.

You released him and pulled back, tilting your head. “What? What do you need Noel?” Your voice was innocent.

His eyes fluttered open, hazy and overwhelmed, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. He knew you were taunting him. It frustrated him. Aroused him even more.

He swallowed hard, voice rough when he finally spoke. “You know damn well what I want.”

You hummed, letting your gaze flick down to the obvious bulge straining against his jeans before slowly dragging your eyes back up to meet his.

“Do I?”

His jaw clenched. “Don’t play dumb,” he rasped. “You just want to hear me say it.”

You arched a brow, waiting. You half expected him to push back, to resist the power play you'd boxed him into.

His stare was dark, unreadable. But after a beat, he exhaled sharply and gave in.

“I want you.”

The words sent something sharp and hot through your stomach. Beneath all of your teasing, you could see how vulnerable you’d made him. Stripped of his usual cocky bravado, left raw. It scared you a little. But it also thrilled you. There was a strange pull in your chest, an unfamiliar urge to give him anything he asked for.

You glanced around, scanning the area. It was dark, secluded enough that no one would see. At least you hoped. You vaguely realized that what you were about to do might be pushing it too far. You couldn't explain this away.

You’d finally given in to him, but the thing was… he wasn’t that smug, cocky asshole from the alleyway. This felt far more real. You didn’t understand his change in demeanor, but you were liking it far too much to care.

When you looked back at him, he was still watching you, pupils blown, lips swollen, expression so unlike himself that you hesitated for a brief moment just to take it in.

Then, slowly, deliberately, you reached down and palmed him through his jeans.

“How do you want me?”

A quiet whimper escaped him, his lashes fluttering as his head tipped back. He squeezed his eyes shut, visibly struggling to speak.

“Any way… any way you’ll give me,” he gasped.

His voice, needy, breathless, made your head spin. You had ruined him. Reduced him to this.

“Okay Noel,” you murmured, almost sweetly.

You kissed him again, swallowing the groan that tore from his throat as you pressed him back against the log. Your legs moved to straddle him, smirking at how hard he was beneath you.

His hands grasped your back, your waist, holding you close, like he couldn’t bear to have any space between you.

Your fingers ghosted under his shirt, nails teasing over his skin. He tensed beneath you, a sharp inhale breaking past his lips. You traced the lines of him, teasing your way down to his belt buckle.

The moment your fingers brushed the metal, his hips jerked violently. A choked noise left him, somewhere between a moan and a plea. The sheer desperation in it made you pause, momentarily thrown by how much he was unraveling.

He was barely holding it together. You could feel it in the way he trembled beneath you, in the ragged breaths, in the way his grip on you tightened like a vice.

You couldn’t remember the last time someone had been this responsive to you. And that it was Noel of all people… the thought alone sent heat pooling deep in your gut.

“Jesus” you murmured in near reverence.

His eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours.

“Be gentle with me,” he gasped. “Please.”

Something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. It made you want to comply.

You nodded slightly, drunk on the moment. With careful fingers, you freed him from his jeans, wrapping a tentative hand around him. His head snapped back, eyes squeezing shut as a sharp gasp tore from him. His hips lifted instinctively, thrusting into your palm.

“God,” he panted.

Your stomach clenched. His lips were parted, his face flushed, his entire body wound tight beneath you. He was hot and heavy in your hand. Your head spun as he shifted his hips, twitching in your grip. You tightened your hold, stroking him slowly, using his precum to ease the motion.

His response was immediate. His breath hitched, a moan catching in his throat. His fingers dug into you like a lifeline, trying to ground himself. Every sound he made sent a thrill through you, your own breath growing ragged.

“Noel,” you pleaded, voice dripping with something you couldn’t quite name. You were almost as desperate for him to come as he was. You needed to see him fall apart underneath you.

He groaned, like hearing his name from your lips alone was enough to push him further. He clung to your shirt, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he panted against your skin.

“More… please… I need more,” he begged, voice wrecked.

You obliged, quickening your pace, swiping your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock. His whole body jolted beneath you.

His moans grew more desperate, more broken, his hips stuttering into your touch. He was teetering on the edge, barely hanging on.

“I—I’m…so close…” he choked out.

You leaned in, placing a well-timed bite at his pulse point. With one final twist of your wrist, he shattered.

His body arched violently, muscles locking up as a strangled moan ripped from his throat. He spilled over your fingers, his breaths coming in sharp, erratic bursts. He trembled beneath you, clinging to you like you were the only thing anchoring him to this earth.

You watched, mesmerized, as he came undone.

A final, weak moan left him before he slumped back, chest heaving. It took several moments for any semblance of awareness to return. When his eyes finally fluttered open, they locked onto yours, utterly wrecked.

You sat there, pulse racing, trying to catch your breath as if you were the one who’d just come. This moment, this image, was searing itself into your mind. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, trying to collect yourself.

Then you realized your hand was still wrapped around him.

You quickly let go, catching sight of his softening cock and your hand coated in him. You averted your eyes, feeling like it was far too intimate a sight. Something hot and embarrassing was starting to climb up your throat.

“Sorry ‘bout the mess,” he rasped, voice hoarse.

Your face burned. The weight of what had just happened was settling over you like a lead blanket. You needed to get out of there. Now.

You quickly wiped your hand on the grass and untangled yourself from him, feeling completely dazed.

An awkward silence hung between you. You forced yourself to stand, legs shaky, unsure what to do next.

You could still feel the remnants of cum you hadn’t managed to wipe on the grass cooling on your skin.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, grasping for words.

"Right, well, I—uh, um," you stammered, turning your head toward the festival grounds. "I suppose I’ll be going then."

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but for once in his life, he seemed to be at a loss for words.

You forced your feet to carry you away, not daring to look back. You didn’t want to stay and think about what had just happened. You wandered into the more crowded part of the festival in a daze, barely paying attention to where you were going.

You glanced down at your hand and felt panic claw at your throat. Suddenly, you were overcome with the need to get rid of the evidence. Fast. It felt like everyone knew you were walking around with Noel Gallagher’s spunk on your hand.

Spotting a water spout, you rushed over, scrubbing at your skin furiously. You flicked the water off, running a shaky hand through your hair. You quickly realized the state you were in and hurriedly smoothed out the wrinkles in your shirt and wiped at your mouth like it could erase everything that had just transpired.

No one could know about this. Ever.

Just as you were regaining some semblance of composure, a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“Well, well, well…”

You barely had time to react before Jo appeared in front of you, arms crossed, a smug grin stretching across her face.

She took one long, knowing look at you, eyes gleaming.

“So… whose dick did you just suck?”

Shit.

--------------------------------------------------------

I saw I got some requests, which I didn’t think I’d get so thank you!! I’ll try to get to those as soon as I can. I have some other ideas rattling around my brain at the moment <3

#noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher x you #noel gallagher #oasis #oasis band #noel gallagher fic #90s noel gallagher

76 notes · View notes

sailorsoons · 13 hours ago

Text

This is a work of art. No, I'm not saying that because Jo is one of my best friends - I literally would pay real actual dollars to read this fic and go pick it up from a store. I actually have no idea where to begin with this review because this story is just. It's literally so good.

I'll start with characters because I although I always feel like I say this, Jo once again has a masterclass in characterization. Jo - the way you're able to make it so that I do not at all hate Daeyoung in this because he is genuinely a nice guy and not a fake nice guy, while also making me NOT mad at reader/Mingyu is literally. I don't know how you do it. So many times I was able to feel empathy for them both, and I think it's because of how you've written reader putting in real, genuine effort into making things work with Daeyoung and they just don't.

Don't get me started on Mingyu. Despite the fact I feel like maybe I should have been mad at him, I wasn't? He really just... has this natural default to wanting to keep her close without even realizing it but when he does? Oh when he DOES!!! The scenes of Mingyu sending text after text and just word vomitting how felt were so real to me that I actually cried. I also used to have a boyfriend who was exactly the same where it was just - word vomit apology that he genuinely meant but my god. It was so good.

I also love the way you write side characters. It makes this story feel so much fuller and REAL. The way Jeonghan comforts reader and is just there for her through both gentle and tough love literally move Jeonghan closer to my bias line which has nothing to do with anything except for the way you wrote him here. The dynamics of the friendship group feels real and raw and their dynamics effect the story so much I just!!!! I really love that you add so much depth to your surrounding cast.

Anyway - I just don't really know how to put into words how much I adore this story. It is always such a joy to read Jo's work and I say it time and time again - I learn so much from reading the way you write and it's an honor to get to pick your brain and experience art with you!!!

Cinnamon || KMG

banner by @sailorrhansol

Written for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab!

Cinnamon mingyu x fem!reader (nicknamed Sunny), reader x male oc for a while fluff smut angst best friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, idiots to lovers all apply NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: You finally decide to try and move on after years of waiting for Mingyu to return your feelings. But when you start bringing your new boyfriend around more often, things with Mingyu get... difficult.

WC: 19k

Warnings: language, recreational drinking and overdrinking, a brief mention of throwing up from a hangover, angst and hurt feelings, not miscommunication but definitely refusal to communicate, kissing (some with mg and some with a male oc), arguments, reader and mingyu are both imperfect people who make mistakes and do things wrong... theyre not bad or toxic people but their choices can be hurtful... theyre humans who mess up have to just do their best to do better going forward, quick and prosey smut scene with piv penetration

A/N: thank you to @sailorsoons and @eoieopda for beta-inggggg iluuuuu

December

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

You grumble in response, eyes still mostly closed, as you make your way by muscle memory to your apartment’s barely-functioning coffee machine. Only once you’ve poured a mug, stirred in everything you need to make it palatable, and taken your first sip, do you speak actual words.

“Morning. You’re up early.”

Jeonghan, one of your three roommates, nods solemnly. “I have a nine o’clock meeting today, but I need to get some files together first, so I’m trying to be there by eight,” he tells you. You glance at the clock on the microwave - it’s already 7:20.

“You might want to get moving,” you warn him.

He makes a face that says, I know, but - and cocks his head towards the bathroom the four of you share. The door is closed and the light inside is on, which means it must be occupied. It’s not usually a problem, even with four of you - your schedules are just different enough that it works out.

You frown. “Wonwoo isn’t gone yet?” He’s usually the first one out of the house on weekdays since he’s got the longest commute.

Jeonghan shakes his head, but then the light clicks off and the door opens. A girl you’ve never seen before steps out cautiously, then pauses when she sees the kitchen isn’t empty.

“Oh,” she breathes. “Hi. Good morning. I’ll just -”

She gives you each a polite nod and slips quickly back through the nearest door - Mingyu’s bedroom.

You face Jeonghan again and roll your eyes. He gives you a bit of a grimace and gets up, hurrying into the now-empty bathroom.

You take his seat at the table, sip slowly at your coffee. Having three guys as roommates means this happens with relative regularity, though usually the guys keep their conquests to weekends and holidays. Mingyu must have really liked this girl to bring her home on a weeknight. You glance back at his closed door; you can faintly hear their voices, but not what they’re saying. She was pretty.

You tuck away whatever feelings you might have about this, just like you always do, wipe your heart as clean as a classroom chalkboard at the beginning of a new day. Jeonghan vacates the bathroom, clearly in a hurry, and you take his place, turning the shower on and praying that there’ll be enough hot water left to get you through. (There’s not.)

Later, as you sit on the train amidst a sea of other morning commuters, you check your phone.

Roomies 💕

[8:07am] (jeong)Han Solo: i would like to issue a formal complaint

[8:07 am] wonuuu: i left plenty of coffee bro

[8:07am] (jeong)Han Solo: not that

[8:09am] Cinnamingyu: if this is a noise complaint… i’m sorry but also no i’m not

[8:09am] You: you’re disgusting

[8:09am] Cinnamingyu: you love me

[8:10am] You: 🙄

[8:10am] (jeong)Han Solo: so does the girl whose presence in our one (1) bathroom made me late this morning

[8:10am] (jeong)Han Solo: if i get fired you’re covering my part of the rent

[8:11am] Cinnamingyu: have fun defending that in small claims court

[8:11am] You: i am happy to be a witness on your behalf

[8:11am] Cinnamingyu: et tu brutus?

[8:11am] You: my shower was lukewarm at best

[8:12am] You: you will be hearing from my counsel

[8:12am] You: thanks in advance wonwoo

[8:14am] wonuuu: for the millionth time… I cannot be your counsel. I’m not qualified yet.

[8:14am] You: yet ☝️

[8:17am] Cinnamingyu: let’s not ignore the real problem here… we need another bathroom

[8:21am] (jeong)Han Solo: ok great, tell me when you win the lottery so we can move out

Chuckling, you slide your phone back into your coat pocket as the train pulls into your stop. You hurry through the train station, tucking your chin into your coat collar as you speed through the icy December morning. It’s one of those dry cold days, where the air around you feels frozen, almost hurts to breathe. Everything is grey - sky above you, buildings around you, ground below you. Fast steps take you the three blocks to your office building, where you sigh in relief as the heated air hits your face, chasing away the chill.

You check your phone again as you hang your coat on your chair in your cubicle. As usual, Mingyu has texted you privately, away from the group chat.

[8:31am] Cinnamingyu: sorry about the hot water :(

[8:38am] You: you should be. i shivered through my whole conditioning routine.

[8:38am] Cinnamingyu: poor sunny baby :( :( :( will you ever forgive me?

You roll your eyes, but you’re fighting a smile. You hate that Mingyu can just charm you right out of a mood, and you hate it even more than he knows it and weaponizes it. He’s the one who gave you the nickname Sunny (or Sunshine depending on how cranky you were at the given moment) back when you were a college freshman. Your other roommates picked it up, but Mingyu was the only one who ever turned Sunshine or Sunny into Sunny Baby.

It’s absolutely horrendous, unfathomable, deeply unfair that it works, that it makes you melt into goo when he uses it. Still, you try to hold strong.

[8:38am] You: don’t you Sunny Baby me Kim Mingyu, you have crimes to answer for!!!

[8:39am] Cinnamingyu: ill cook for you tonight as penance. and then maybe a movie?

You frown. You wish you could take him up on the offer. Mingyu’s a great cook. One of the many things you love about him.

[8:39am] You: rain check. i won’t be home for dinner

[8:39am] Cinnamingyu: what’s this? did you manage to bag a man????

[8:39am] You: i hate you so much

[8:39am] You: yes you absolute scrambled egg, i have a date

Mingyu sends you a gif of an old man suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, and you laugh out loud. Then you stash your phone behind your keyboard and get to work. But when you check it again a few hours later, after your first meeting of the day lets out, he’s texted you again.

[8:40am] Cinnamingyu: is it the same guy as last week? date number TWO?? 😮

[10:51am] You: yeeeeees 🤭

[10:51am] Cinnamingyu: wow, big moves for you. a second date! do we need to have The Talk?

[10:51am] You: blocked and reported

This is an ancient song and dance for you and Mingyu. When you’ve been friends as long as you have, some things just become routine. Like you, gracefully ignoring the handful of girls that you never see a second time. Like him, acting like it’s monumental when you actually give someone a chance.

He’s used to you giving no one a chance, ever. He knows it doesn’t happen much.

But you had a good first date with Daeyoung last week. A really good first date. You’d been texting a lot since then, too. He was funny - witty. And cute. So you’d thought to yourself… what the hell. Why not? Why not go out a second time? What else were you going to do tonight?

(Stay home and eat the food Mingyu cooks for you. Watch a movie together on the couch.)

And, sure, you do want to do those things. But going out with Daeyoung tonight won’t change a thing between you and Mingyu. He’ll grill you about it when you get home, maybe tease you a little, and you’ll do food and a movie another night.

Daeyoung takes you bowling. You weren’t sure how you’d feel about it, not having been in a bowling alley since you were a kid, and remembering them as vaguely sticky places. But it ends up being kind of cute, maybe even nostalgic. Daeyoung buys a pitcher of beer and sets it on your - yes - sticky table, and walks with you as you select a pink ball that is definitely meant for children.

“You know that’s only six pounds, right?” he asks you, smiling playfully.

“Bold of you to think I could lift a heavier one,” you deadpan, and he laughs. You like his laugh - it’s easy, light, like he’s wholly uncomplicated. You could use some uncomplicated in your life.

You're terrible at bowling - you score a 42 on your first game, the ball finding the gutter more times than it stays on the lane. Even so, you manage to have fun. Daeyoung doesn’t make you feel weird about it - in fact, he barely pays attention to the actual bowling. Instead he talks to you about your day, asks about your family, doesn't seem like he's freaked out that you live with three guy friends. He doesn’t even ask the very common, “so, has anything ever happened there?” for which you’re grateful.

He’s got three sisters, you learn, and grew up with cats but still wants a dog someday. He graduated two years before you, has never traveled outside the country.

You offer back your own resume of sorts - an older sister and a younger brother, no pets growing up and allergic to most mammals (perhaps humans included, as has been pointed out by Mingyu on many occasions, usually in the same conversation that he’s calling you Sunshine and pinching your cheeks like your attitude is cute). Graduated with Honors and haven’t traveled much either, though you’d love to when you have some money saved up.

Your phone lights up on the table every so often, and you check it while Daeyoung takes his turn on the lane. A few are Jeonghan and one of your co-workers, and one is your little brother asking how to get blood out of laundry which is super alarming - but the rest are from Mingyu.

[7:19pm] Cinnamingyu: just know that you are missing one of my best creations

[7:19pm] Cinnamingyu: but dont worry i will save you some ☺️ because i’m the best roommate ever

[7:31pm] You: thank youuuuu! I might not have any tonight but you know i’ll eat the leftovers!

[7:31pm] Cinnamingyu: hows the date?

[7:36pm] You: i am very bad at bowling actually!!!

[7:36pm] Cinnamingyu: aim for the pins

[7:43pm] You: have i mentioned that i hate you?

[7:43pm] Cinnamingyu: guess i’ll throw these leftovers out then

[8:12pm] Cinnamingyu: what time do you think youll be home?

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: sorry i didnt mean that like WHEN WILL YOU BE HOME YOUNG LADY

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: i was asking bc i was deciding if i want to start a movie or wait for you i wasnt trying to

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: you know

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: anyway. aim for the pins. wear protection. etc. see you later lol

[8:38pm] You: young lady 🙄 go away mingyu!!!

[8:38pm] Cinnamingyu: you dont mean that

[8:38pm] You: i don’t 😘

[8:47pm] You: if you wanna save a movie for me… i should be home by 11

Daeyoung drives you home after the date, and you note that his car is clean, but not serial killer clean. A green flag.

When he asks if he can see you again soon, as he's pulling the car up to your building, you tell him yes without hesitating. It’ll be your first third date in maybe ever, and you make a little note in your brain that you should probably talk to him about this, make sure he can be on the same page - that this is fun and you’ll keep going out as long as it’s a good time, but you aren’t really looking for serious.

When he pauses, leaning in a little closer, you feel yourself smile, and you let him. It’s a nice kiss.

He’s a nice guy.

There’s no reason you couldn’t follow through with this. There’s no giant problem with him, no personality quirk or inherent difference that makes him ineligible.

But.

You push the thought away. “Thanks for tonight,” you tell him. “I had a good time.”

“You’d have a better time if you listened to my advice and used a heavier ball,” he says seriously, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he’s teasing. “You can’t expect to knock down pins when they weigh more than what you’re throwing at them.”

“Sounds fake,” you joke, and hop out of the car. Before you shut the door, you pause. “See you next weekend?”

His smile unfurls, pleased. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll text you.”

You practically skip back into the apartment. You pause at the closet by the front door, pulling off your boots and hanging up your puffy winter coat. You can hear the tv on in the living room and water running in the kitchen.

You step into the kitchen, heading for the fridge. Mingyu stands at the sink, his back to you, up to his elbow in suds. You bump him with your hips as you pass by, and he kicks at you and misses. You open the fridge and grab a can of seltzer. Mingyu smiles at you from the sink, and just like that, Daeyoung evaporates from your mind.

He calls you Sunny, but he’s the sun. Has been that way as long as you’ve known him - since undergrad.

You’d met in your freshman year - he was puppy-dog cute, back then, not the chiseled sculpture of a man who takes up half your kitchen now. You’d been in the Arts and he’d been in the Sciences - something mathy - but you’d bonded in one of those godawful general requirement classes, and somehow the friendship had taken hold.

Mingyu holding your hand - metaphorically and literally - through your two required math classes and two required science labs was the only reason you’d even managed to graduate. Of course, you’d also written every single formal paper he had through the whole four years, so it evened out.

You complement each other that way, in every area. He’s outgoing and friendly, you’re cranky enough to be given the nickname Sunny in pure irony. Mingyu likes puzzles and problems he can work out, you like to turn the brain off for any and all hobbies. Mingyu is sunshine and big smiles, you are made of salt and sarcasm.

But you love each other - have been best friends since almost the moment you met. There is nothing in your life you’d be willing to lose less than him.

You wander up to him and lean against his arm, mostly to be funny because he continues to wash dishes even as it jostles you around, and it becomes a little game of him trying to shake you off and you refusing to be shaken.

“How was your night?” he asks finally, reaching to turn off the water. You automatically pass him a dish towel to dry his hands. He takes it, drying, and then reaches around you to hang it back up near the oven.

“Not as good as yours,” you snicker, noticing a purple blotch near his collar.

He flushes dark, slapping a hand over the spot. “Yah,” he complains.

You laugh. “She was cute!”

“She’d be cuter if she spent less time in our bathroom!” Jeonghan’s disembodied voice floats from the living room.

“Alright, we get it!” Mingyu calls back hotly. “You’ve only been complaining about that for fifteen hours!”

Cackling, you follow him out into the living room. Jeonghan is sprawled sideways on the two-seater, a show you don’t recognize playing across the tv screen. Down the hallway, Wonwoo’s door is open about a foot, casting the hallway in flickering blue light that tells you he’s gaming and you probably won’t see him for the rest of the night.

“So,” Jeonghan says dryly, without peeling his eyes from the tv, “I noticed your boyfriend’s car idling outside for quite a while before you came in. Were we necking?”

“Necking?” you splutter. Beside you, Mingyu is biting on his lips, trying not to laugh at your expense. “What year is this, 1950? And he’s not my boyfriend. You know that.”

You can’t help the defensive edge that creeps into your voice. From where he’s plopped on the couch, Mingyu reaches up for your hand, tugging. You let him pull you into the space next to him and he rubs a soothing hand across your shoulders before taking his hand away. It’s a silent, quick moment - easy to miss if you aren’t looking. But you are looking, always, and you wonder if he even knows he does this - reads your moods, rushes to fix you.

Unbothered by your ruffled feathers, Jeonghan asks lightly, “So, are you seeing him again, or…?”

The bastard hasn’t even looked away from the television screen.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” you grumble at him.

Now he looks over at you, smiling beatifically, innocently. “There’s my Sunshine.”

“Fuck off.”

“Well?” Mingyu asks from next to you, eyebrows raised. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying to sound casual. You can tell the jackals are in a mood tonight.

Jeonghan’s face splits into a delighted grin. “A third date? My goodness.”

“We all know what happens on a third date,” Mingyu says sagely, and you punch him in the thigh, extra hard since you can only reach him and not Jeonghan too.

Wonwoo’s voice comes from down the hallway. “Leave Sunny alone, you guys.”

“Yeah,” you grumble. “Leave Sunny alone.”

Mingyu stretches over your lap to reach for the remote. It brings his torso almost flush against yours and you feel your face heat.

“I was watching that,” Jeonghan complains before Mingyu even presses anything.

“Sunny and I are watching a movie,” Mingyu says flatly. “Go watch on your laptop if you care so much.”

Jeonghan reaches towards your couch lazily and slaps at the air like he can’t be assed to work any harder to hit his roommate. “You’re cranky today,” he observes, the arm not trying (sort of) to slap Mingyu’s leg folded behind his head. “Why might that be?”

Mingyu doesn’t answer him, just settles back next to you, his arm against yours, and starts scrolling through movie options.

He still hasn’t picked one when Wonwoo appears in the living room’s doorway, leaning against the wooden frame, his LED headset looped around his neck and his eyes on his phone.

“What are we watching?” he asks absently.

“Nothing, apparently,” Jeonghan quips.

Beside you, Mingyu growls a little.

Unphased - this is so normal for them, it would be more alarming if they weren’t pissing each other off - you look up and Wonwoo and say, “I didn’t think you’d emerge tonight.”

“I’m heading right back in,” he admits. “Hydration break. Anyway - question. What’s everyone’s plans for the holidays?”

Mingyu stops scrolling, pausing to think.

“I’ll be home,” Jeonghan says, meaning his hometown.

“Me, too,” Mingyu adds. “I’m leaving on Sunday. Next Sunday, I mean.”

Wonwoo lets out a little sigh. “Okay. My folks were asking when I was coming. Sunny, you’re going home, too?”

“Uh, no, actually,” you admit. “I was staying here.”

You feel rather than see your friends share a glance.

“I can stay, then,” Wonwoo says, a bit tightly - you can tell that wasn’t the plan. “So you aren’t alone.”

“No,” you protest. “I’m perfectly fine being here by myself, you know that.”

“Sunny Baby is an indoor cat,” Mingyu notes, and you bump him with your elbow.

“It’s fine,” you insist. “Plus, I think Daeyoung will be around, so I won’t be alone the whole time anyway.”

Mingyu’s eyes bore into the side of your face, but you don’t look at him; if it’s pity he’s leveling at you, you don’t want it.

“If you’re sure,” Wonwoo says, and when you assure him you do, he vanishes into the kitchen and then back into his room. Mingyu clicks on a movie and you settle in, eventually getting sleepy and shifting sideways, your head resting comfortably on his unfairly sculpted shoulder. He shifts to let you get more comfortable, and the night passes as simply and pleasantly as hundreds before.

When the movie ends, you pick up the bottles and cans from the coffee table while Mingyu does a quick lap of the apartment, turning off lights and making sure doors are locked. You meet outside the bathroom - occupied by Jeonghan - both waiting your turn to brush your teeth and whatever else before bed.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu says softly, something tentative in his voice, and you look up at him, heart suddenly thumping. He’s looking at you earnestly in the dim light from the bedrooms down the hall, something you’re not sure you can name on his face. It’s almost pleading, but that doesn’t make sense. “Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me for the holidays? My family would love to have you - they’re obsessed with you, you know that.”

Your heart calms. “It’s really okay,” you promise. “But thanks for checking.”

The bathroom door opens and Jeonghan slips by, leaving a wave of toothpaste-mint in his wake.

“You go ahead,” Mingyu says.

“You were in line first,” you argue.

He rolls his eyes but knows how stubborn you are, so he disappears into the bathroom. You lean your butt against the kitchen table and check your phone for the first time in a while.

Daeyoung had texted shortly after he drove away - probably as soon as he got home.

[11:24pm] Daeyoung: I had a really good time tonight. Looking forward to next week :]

[12:51am] You: me too ☺️

The bathroom door opens and you turn off your phone screen with a click, bidding Mingyu goodnight as you slide into the bathroom’s light.

–

January

New Year’s Eve

Roomies 💕

[11:13pm] (jeong)Han Solo: sunny where’d you end up tonight?

[11:13pm] You: i’m with the girliesss!!! where are you guys

[11:13pm] Cinnamingyu: sunnnyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy baby baby baby

[11:13pm] You: yyyeeesssss??

[11:14pm] (jeong)Han Solo: we’re downtown. mingyu cant come to the phone right now but i think he wants you to come hang out with us

[11:14pm] You: lmao nooooo he didnt even make it to midnight??? thats sad, kim mingyu

[11:16pm] Wonuuu: u ever think about that phrase “can’t come to the phone”… from an era in which you had to walk to the family’s landline phone in the kitchen or whatever… none of us were even alive for that

[11:16pm] You: wow apparently you guys are having a much better time than me

[11:16pm] (jeong)Han Solo: only wonwoo lol ok be safe and have fun!! see you at home

–

[11:14pm] Cinnamingyu: come out!!

[11:14pm] You: i am out! Lol

[11:15am] Cinnamingyu: you know what i mean

[11:16am] You: im sorry :( but we’re across town and by the time we got there we’d miss the countdown

[11:16am] Cinnamingyu: ok 🙁

[11:16am] You: don’t pout!!! i’ll see you at home tomorrow and we can hang out all day

[11:16am] Cinnamingyu: not the same!

[11:17am] You: ok lets take a shot together!!

[11:17am] Cinnamingyu: ???

[11:17am] You: go order one and tell me when you’re ready!!

[11:18am] Cinnamingyu: lmao on it 🫡

[11:28am] Cinnamingyu: ok im ready

[11:28am] You: ok when you get this count to three and take your shot!

[11:29am] You: geonbae or cheers or salute or whatever

[11:29am] Cinnamingyu: or whatever 🙄

[11:29am] You: 😘

New Year’s Day

Roomies 💕

[12:00am] You: HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVES OF MY LIFE LET THIS BE THE BESTEWT YEAR FOR US EVER EVER EVR!!!!!

[12:00am] Wonuuu: happy new year sunny 🙂

[12:00am] (jeong)Han Solo: happy new yearrr 😽

[4:09am] You: home safe ♥️

[10:33am] Wonuuu: i’ll be home tomorrow sunny

[12:42pm] (jeong)Han Solo: i’ll be back tonight but probably not until after dinner

[12:42pm] You: ok! i’ll be here

[3:17pm] (jeong)Han Solo: is mingyu alive???

[3:17pm] You: lol yeah he’s home. he’s just… not in the best shape asfjkasfhaio

[12:00am] Cinnamingyu: happy new year sunny baby 🩷

[12:01am] You: happy new year best friend!!!!!!! ily ily ily!!!!

[12:32am] Cinnamingyu: you kno you could still meet us out nw

[11:23am] Cinnamingyu: can u open the front door… my head hurts too bad to make the keys work

You stagger to the apartment’s front door, eyes squinting against the harsh daylight streaming into the living room and kitchen area. When you unlock and pull open the door, Mingyu almost collapses on top of you.

“Get up,” you groan, shuffling backwards. “You’re too heavy, I can’t hold you!”

“Shhhh,” he whispers, but rights himself to standing.

You stand there for a minute, both of you just grappling with the horrible reality of being awake and upright and, god, very hungover.

“I need to lay down,” Mingyu says finally, very clearly, like he’s had a sudden burst of self-preservation.

“Come on,” you wave at him vaguely and make your way back to bed. You collapse right into the spot you’d vacated when he texted, pulling the blankets up to your ears and closing your eyes, waiting for the bed to dip beside you.

It doesn’t.

You open your eyes again. “Mingyu?”

He appears wordlessly in your doorway, then makes his way over to his side of the bed. The empty side of your bed. Not his. You have to stop thinking that way.

You’re puzzled, but then he leans over and presses a cold water bottle into your hand. Despite his whining, he was still trying to take care of you.

“Did you take any pain killer?” you mumble.

“Probably more than was actually advisable,” he admits, twisting his own water open and drinking noisily. You don’t see a problem with this - Mingyu is gigantic, and you can imagine his dosing needs would reflect it.

“Okay,” you say with a little sigh. “We’ll sleep for a while and then maybe we can try to eat.”

“God, don’t talk about food,” he moans, taking one of your extra pillows and covering his face.

You chuckle lightly, and then roll to hide your face somewhere near his bicep, breathing in his familiar cinnamon scent and matching your breaths to his until you slip back under. The millionth time you’ve fallen asleep next to your best friend, and you’re already eagerly looking ahead to a million and one.

You’re awakened by the sound of someone retching in the bathroom, clear on the other side of the apartment. You scrabble for and glance at your phone - hours have passed. The light in your bedroom has slipped closer to golden as mid-afternoon begins to wane. You sit up tentatively; this time there’s no wave of dizziness as a punishment for being vertical, though your head still pounds.

You drink some of the water Mingyu brought you, answer a text from Jeonghan, then decide to go make sure Mingyu’s alive.

“You need anything?” you call through the door. You can hear the sink run, and the door opens.

“A lobotomy,” he deadpans. He looks miserable, frown pronounced and eyes puffy.

“Get back in bed,” you tell him gently, and he ambles off towards your room. You detour into the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. It might not save him, but you could use some caffeine.

While it brews, you poke your head into your bedroom. Mingyu is back in your bed, curled up pitifully, that pouting frown still prevalent on his face.

“What time did you take something?” you ask him.

“Like ten thirty,” he mumbles into your pillow.

You glance at the clock. “You can have more,” you tell him, and head back across the apartment to pilfer through the medicine cabinet.

With the pill bottle in hand, you stop in the kitchen long enough to pour yourself a cup of coffee. Carefully balancing so as not to spill, you bring it into the bedroom, placing it carefully on your nightstand and then nudging Mingyu’s shoulder.

He whines a response.

“I have drugs for you,” you tell him, and he holds up an open palm without lifting his face.

You drop the medicine into his hand and get comfy back in your spot, even though you think you’re done sleeping for now. Beside you, Mingyu takes the pills and settles back into sleep. He’s snoring before you can even choose a show to watch on your phone.

You look over at him fondly, disaster that he is. Then you settle in deeper, content to let his warmth radiate over to you, content to be by his side.

–

[12:02am] Daeyoung: happy new year! wishing you luck and happiness ☺️

[4:23pm] You: thank you!!! to you as well!!

–

February

Valentine’s Day is an emotional minefield. You don’t know if you want to lean into the bitter and single thing, or if you want to go all Gal-entines and pamper your friends, or if you want to just keep your head down and treat the day like any other fuck-ass Tuesday in winter.

The universe surprises you with a secret fourth option. Or, rather, Daeyoung does.

You’ve lost track counting your dates with him at this point - you are simply dating. Neither of you has pushed for a what is this conversation, and you’re relieved. You like Daeyoung, you like the time you spend together, and you’d be sad if things ended. But at the same time, you don’t feel things getting deeper, and if he pushed you to make this serious, to put parameters on it, you’re not sure how you’d feel.

Something inside you keeps it light - enough so that you don’t even think of doing anything for him to celebrate the holiday.

Apparently, you’re an asshole.

Sometime after ten, your office’s secretary calls you, asking you to come up to reception for a minute. You’re suspicious, but you don’t do the mental math about what day it is until you turn the corner and see the small vase of roses - three of them, arranged with some baby’s breath and a few other fillers you can’t name - sitting on the reception counter.

“These got delivered for you,” she tells you, and it’s clear on her face that she’s dying for you to spill. “Are they from that guy? The tall one who looks like a movie star?”

This would annoy you if you weren’t so used to it. Everyone asks you if you’re with Mingyu - they never understand why you’re not when you two are attached at the hip.

It had happened once - just a kiss at a frat party, in the middle of the dance floor. You’d both been drinking, of course, and pressed close together to dance, his chest against your back and his hands on your hips and then you’d turned and tipped your chin up and his sparkling eyes had gone molten before he’d kissed you and your whole world had been swept away -

And you’d been interrupted, had been literally pulled away to deal with some drama happening in the kitchen, and somehow… you’d never talked about it. It never happened again.

Sometimes, you wonder if you only dreamed it. It wouldn’t surprise you.

But, no. Your imagination is good, but it’s not good enough to come up with the minute details of how his pecs had felt under your hands, how his fingers had felt pressed into the small of your back, how he had almost sighed into your mouth when it opened for him, how he had tasted a bit like cinnamon, courtesy of the fireball shots the frat was giving out like candy.

Anyway. Life goes on, right?

“No,” you tell the secretary quickly, because you know the roses aren’t from Mingyu. Even if he’d done something today, as your friend, he knows you aren’t much of a roses girl. “We’re just friends.” You will the words to leave your mouth without leaving ashes in their wake.

You reach for the small card tied around the thinnest part of the vase to see who did send them.

Thought you deserved something pretty today. Don’t freak out. :] - Daeyoung

The secretary is still watching you, harmlessly curious.

“It’s just a guy I’ve been seeing,” you say. “It’s not serious.”

“Wow,” she says, eyeing the simple arrangement. “Looks like he thinks it’s a little serious - or that it could be.”

“That’s probably true,” you muse out loud, taking the arrangement back to your own cubicle and setting it on your desk. You snap a photo and text it to Daeyoung with a thank you and a row of sobbing emojis. Then you stand behind your chair, eyes on the red petals, your hand pressed to your mouth, processing.

You didn’t expect to feel like this. A fluttering, a rush of excitement. Even though you aren’t into roses, specifically, the thought is very nice. And no one has thought of you, not like this, in a very long time.

When you get home, the apartment is dark and empty. You wonder if any of the guys have dates tonight, or if they’re working late, or with family. You set the roses on the kitchen table, hang up your coat, and then shoot the grouptext a quick “where is everyone?”. Then you head into your room, eager to take a quick shower and change into something comfy.

You freeze when you flick on your bedroom light.

The clutter on your small desk has been pushed to the side, and a clear vase holds a thick bouquet of sunflowers - your favorite.

You hear yourself gasp, the sound echoing through your head on a loop as you stare at the bright, yellow blooms. You step forward on shaky legs, reaching for the tiny card that’s slipped under the vase.

Sunny flowers for Sunny Baby. Love you. - M

The tears come with such unexpected force that you almost laugh through the third sob. You can barely see through the sudden stream of tears, can hear yourself struggling to inhale. You hurry to shut your bedroom door, locking it for good measure, and then those shaking legs of yours give up, and you sink to your knees and weep into your hands, trying to muffle the sounds, just in case anyone comes home.

You cry so hard it makes your abs hurt, makes the muscles in your face feel stretched, nearly makes you gag. You haven’t cried like this since undergrad.

Because he loves you, but he doesn’t love you, and even though you’ve been pretending for so long it’s as unconscious as breathing, it doesn’t shatter you any less.

Because he’s perfect, and he’s yours, but somehow you still don’t have him, and in the meantime no one else will ever be enough - just for not being him.

Because being thought of earlier by Daeyoung was nice, but it is so much better to be known, like this. Mingyu knows you don’t like roses. Mingyu knows your favorites. Mingyu knows you.

And it’s a waste. It’s all for fucking nothing.

When the tears start to settle and you can breathe a little better, you push yourself back to your feet. You listen at your bedroom door and don’t hear anyone, so you hurry across the apartment and into the bathroom, where you blow your nose and splash your face with cold water.

When you come out again, Jeonghan is in the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says, his back to you. When he turns, he freezes, his face dropping. You must be puffy and red, still.

“Hey,” you reply meekly.

“Oh, Sunny,” he says mournfully, stepping closer. “I told him he shouldn’t, but he asked why not, he’s your friend, and I couldn’t say -”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah,” you mutter. “It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

He watches you carefully, probably trying to gauge if you’re lying. Then he spots the roses and lights up.

“Well, well,” he says, a sly smile showing up on his face. “Those are nice.”

“Yeah,” you say again, the only word in your arsenal. “They are. I, um, I think I’m gonna shower. Do you need the bathroom first?”

Under the spray of hot water, you cry a little more, like an aftershock hit you. It’s quiet this time, and you try to shoulder through it as you condition your hair, ready to put this whole episode behind you once you step out into the chilly bathroom air again.

When you emerge, Jeonghan is on the couch. By the sounds coming from down the hallway, Wonwoo has just gotten home and is dumping the contents of his life onto his bedroom floor. Jeonghan opens his mouth to say something, but you lift a fluffy-bathrobe-clad arm and silently shush him.

“It’s fine,” you say again, firmly.

Jeonghan had been your friend first, back in undergrad. You’d brought him into the friend group the same way Mingyu had brought Wonwoo. The four of you had worked cohesively as a friend-and-roommate unit for a long time, but sometimes those old alliances seemed to matter more than others. Jeonghan would never cross the line without your permission, would never tell your secrets if you weren’t willing to tell them yourself. Wonwoo, on the other hand, was much more likely to open his mouth - especially if he thought he was helping.

The front door bursts open, and Mingyu enters the apartment in a cacophony of noise and dropped items, oranges spilling from the bag in his arms and rolling across the floor. You move to pick a few up as he puts the bag of groceries down and pulls his boots off.

“Sunny!” he says, all excitement, eyes shining. “Did you like my gift?”

You can’t even look at Jeonghan, turning your back to him completely as you hold out the oranges you’d collected. Mingyu takes them, but watches you eagerly, waiting for your answer.

“Yeah,” you say honestly. “I loved it.”

His smile triples.

You were wrong when you said Mingyu was the sun. Mingyu is an avalanche. Rushing, rolling, thundering over and through you until there’s nothing left but a glinting field of ice and silence. Nothing else matters - nothing else exists - in his wake.

“You better watch out, Mingyu,” Jeonghan says from the couch, and your blood runs as cold as that field of ice, because you know he’s about to start some shit. “Sunny got flowers from her lover today. That guy’s coming for your woman.”

You’re opening your mouth to reprimand him - tell him to shut up, or something - but Mingyu beats you to it.

“Sunny’s not mine,” he says simply.

All that ice evaporates in an instant like it was never there.

“My lover,” you echo with a frown, when you can speak again. “Don’t say it like that, you weirdo.”

“Well, isn’t he?” Jeonghan asks innocently.

You head for your bedroom with a roll of your eyes. “Goodnight, Jeonghan.”

“That means yes,” he sing-songs, and you slam your door shut.

Wonwoo’s voice floats through the door. “Who pissed off Sunshine?”

Mingyu’s grumble responds, “Who do you think?”

–

You and Mingyu lay side by side in the grass, a late spring night unspooling with cricket song and a smattering of flickering stars above you. His arm touches yours and you can feel his chest shift as he breathes deeply.

You feel content - you feel infinite - you feel like one of those blinking stars. You feel like you could lay here next to him in silence and be happy until your light goes out, just like theirs.

“Mingyu,” you say, turning to look at him. The grass tickles your cheek.

He turns to look at you, too. It’s dark, here behind the university’s main hub, most of the lights on the far side of the building. Still, there’s enough light to see his eyes, steady on you, his gaze serious.

“Sunny Baby,” he responds, voice low, like he’s telling you a secret. “I love you.”

You startle awake, heart pounding, and you’re immediately furious.

“Fuck,” you hiss, punching your mattress once.

The pathetic truth is you dream about that night in undergrad all the time - you and Mingyu on one of the last nights before summer break, leaving a party together and laying in the grass behind the advising department building watching the constellations rotate above you.

The pathetic truth is the dream never follows the script, always turning the scene sideways, making it something different than what it was.

The pathetic truth is that Mingyu had been blacked out, more fucked up than you’d ever seen him, and you’d laid in the grass because you physically couldn’t keep him upright any further than that and you’d had to text Wonwoo to come help you.

You hadn’t said anything to Mingyu - at least not something meaningful. You might have said please don’t puke on me, or god, you weigh a ton, or how many jaeger bombs did you do?

He had said he loved you - had slurred it, eyes closed.

You had laughed, even though it had sent a dagger through your chest. “Okay, Romeo,” you’d teased, and checked your phone to see if Wonwoo was on his way to help.

“I do,” he’d insisted, one hand patting the grass next to him like he was trying to find you. “Sunny, I love you.”

You didn’t know how he meant it - still don’t know, to this day, because you don’t think he even remembered saying it and you’d been too afraid to bring it up.

What were you supposed to say? Hey, when you were blacked out last night, you said you love me… do you mean like… platonically… or…?

God. The idea of it is just as humiliating now, years later, as it had been in the weeks that followed that night. And though he’s said it regularly since then - like on this fucking card with the sunflowers - he never said it like that, and you never pushed it.

Now, awake and furious and sad at three in the morning, you grab your phone and climb out of bed.

You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s only making this worse for you. But you make your way on light steps through the dark and silent apartment to Mingyu’s door and push it open.

Is it mithridatism, this thing you do? Microdosing on the poison so that a full dose won’t kill you? No, that isn’t right. A full dose of Mingyu wouldn’t kill you. It’s an absence of Mingyu that you need protected from.

You climb into his bed and poke at his calves with your toes until he grunts as he wakes. Then, as he gathers his senses, he rolls to look at you over his shoulder.

“Bad dream?” he asks, voice kind of breathy with sleep.

“Mhm.”

He rolls the rest of the way, lifts his arm so you can scoot a little closer. You breathe easier immediately. It makes no sense that the thing that hurts you is also the only thing that makes you feel better.

“Won’t your lover object to you getting in bed with me?” he asks, and you can hear the edge in his voice as clear as day.

You let out a single, wry ha. He’s got a point, but Daeyoung isn’t your boyfriend, you aren’t exclusive, and what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“Nah,” you say easily. “I’m not his.”

March

March can’t make up its mind if it’s winter or spring. Warm days lull you into a false sense of security, and then a blistering cold rushes in just to call you a fool.

You’re the last one to get to the bar on Friday night after work, and you have to stand awkwardly next to the booth the guys have staked out and unwrap yourself - hat, scarf, gloves, puffer coat, big heavy sweater - before you can actually slide into the empty spot next to Mingyu.

“Hi bestie,” he says, immediately draping his arm behind your shoulders, resting on the back of the wooden bench. “How was your day?”

“Fuck Marcus in Accounting,” you answer.

“Fuck Marcus in Accounting,” your roommates all answer solemnly, because this is a common gripe.

“Fireball and ginger ale it is, then,” Mingyu says, and climbs over you to head to the bar, his own empty beer glass in hand. When he slides the cocktail glass in front of you and scoots back to his original spot, you fill the guys in on Marcus’s Bullshit of the Day.

“And then,” you finish the story, “I was like yeah, I know you did, Marcus, because she blind-copied me on her reply and you should have seen the color his face turned so I think it’s fair to say I won this round.”

“I’m surprised they aren’t all scared of you,” Wonwoo remarks.

“Marcus is,” you say, glowering at your now-empty cocktail glass. “That’s why he’s such a dick. He hates that he’s intimidated.”

Mingyu’s arm has slid down from the back of the bench and rests lightly across your shoulder by this point, and he gives you a playful squeeze into his side as he laughs.

He starts telling a story next, and you listen as you slip your phone out and check your texts. Daeyoung had texted you a while ago, and you shoot him a quick answer that you’re out with your roommates for Friday drinks, and then dial back into the conversation.

When Mingyu’s glass is empty again, you rise, taking the empties up to the bar and signalling for another of each. While you wait, elbows on the bar, you check your phone again. Daeyoung had texted back, asking where you guys were drinking.

You hesitate. The idea of incorporating Daeyoung into the group makes you nervous. Behind you, you can hear Mingyu yapping a thousand miles a minute, and Jeonghan’s distinctive heh heh heh in answer. It’s not that you don’t think the guys will be nice… it just feels like a big move.

It might be nice to have him there, though - someone on your side when Jeonghan and Mingyu gang up on you and Wonwoo is too in his own world to be effective back-up, someone to hold your hand and get your drinks, someone to be in your own private little bubble with when the conversation ebbs and flows away from topics you can engage with.

You send him back “just a little place by the apartment!” which is technically true, and then grab the refreshed drinks for you and Mingyu.

The guys are getting up, making noise about a just-vacated darts board, so you swivel and turn to follow them, a cold drink in each hand.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu tells you, half an hour later, bending down low so he can talk close to your ear over the loud music, “you have to put more muscle into it. You have to throw it like you want to pierce it.”

“I don’t think it’s that serious, actually!” you tell him cheerfully, and down the rest of your drink, pushing the empty glass into his giant hand. His turn.

He shoots you a grin so sharp and devilish that it makes your whole body fight a shudder, and then he disappears off to the bar.

You heckle Jeonghan through his turn (unsuccessfully - he’s way better at this than you) and then glance at the bar to see if the bartenders have gotten to Mingyu yet in the crowd. He’s facing you, his arms crossed, that same devilish smile on his face. He leans sideways on the bar, where your drink and his own beer sit sweating, forgotten.

The girl he’s smiling at has her back to you, which is a miracle, because if she’d been able to see your face fall, she probably would have back-pedaled out of the conversation immediately - it would be impossible for her not to see that she was walking into a flashing neon sign screaming this situation is a mess!!!!

When she laughs, throwing her head back, and reaches a hand out to touch his forearm, you feel the whole bar swoop sideways around you. You’re fumbling for your phone, even as you hear Mingyu’s answering laugh cut through all the loud music and conversations filling the space, even as you watch through your periphery as he gives her a return nudge to the shoulder, playful, that smile only growing.

You’re going to be sick.

You shoot Daeyoung a text - sorry, I should have told you which bar. I’m leaving now though. Do you want to come get me? We could chill for a little? - and then you push your way through the bar, not even bothering to tell Jeonghan and Wonwoo goodbye. You make an extra effort to skirt the opposite wall as the bar, hoping you get out without Mingyu spotting you.

There’s no way you could fake it right now. Zero chance. If he came after you, it would all be out in the open.

Daeyoung answers you almost immediately - no worries! sure, send me your location. you want to hang at my place?

Outside, the cold air assaults you. You immediately hesitate, wishing you’d grabbed your coat. You’ll get pneumonia waiting for Daeyoung without it.

You’re saved the trouble of going back in - the door opens and someone comes out after you. But it isn’t Mingyu - it’s Jeonghan, giving you the heaviest side-eye you’ve ever seen from him, your coat in his hands.

“Thank you,” you breathe when he’s close enough, taking the coat and sliding it over your arms. “It’s freezing.”

“Sunny,” he says, and something in his voice makes you pause. “I think we should talk.”

You cover your face with one hand, embarrassed and spent and tired. “About what?” you ask flatly, just to buy yourself a second. You know the answer. Of course you do.

He levels you with a look. “This can’t continue,” he says firmly. “For you, or for him, or for me and Wonwoo.”

You scoff. “What do you two have to do with it?”

You’ve never seen him this serious, and it scares you a little. “Do you think it’s easy for me to watch you get hurt?”

You lower your gaze to the ground and don’t answer this; it feels rhetorical.

“But you’re right - it’s not about us. It’s about you. Something has to give,” he says gently. “Either face it and get your answer, or let it go.”

“It’s not that simple,” you argue.

“Yes, it is that simple,” he retorts. “It’s just scary. But that’s not the same thing.”

“I can’t tell him,” you say, because it’s true. You can’t. You can’t. “What if it messed up everything for all of us?”

What if you lost him completely? What if he moved out? What if he stopped talking to you?

Jeonghan doesn’t reply to this at first, he just watches you carefully, then tucks a long strand of dark hair behind his ear.

“You can,” he says finally, still gentle. “But… if you won’t… then you have to let him go.”

Your stomach drops at the words, even though this is a truth you’ve been aware of for ages, have been doing your best to avoid.

“I don’t know how to do that,” you whisper. And it’s true - loving Mingyu feels as instinctual as your heartbeat, intrinsically part of who you are. How can you separate it out, shut it down?

“Stop sharing a bed with him,” Jeonghan suggests, and it’s so simple and straight-forward and correct that you can’t think of a single argument. “Quit texting him but ignoring everyone else. Stop cuddling with him on the couch after work. Quit-”

“Alright, I get it,” you snap, the defensiveness rising up again like muddy waters.

“I’m not sure you do,” he says, and the gentleness is gone from his tone; you’ve moved into the Tough Love section of the lecture, apparently. “You can’t keep playing house with him, pretending you’re together, and then falling apart every time he makes it clear that it isn’t real. You’ll never feel better like this. It will never change, Sunny. You’ll be like this, forever. Is that what you want?”

Your throat is tight and sharp, and you blink quickly, eyes on the ground again.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he says it like he aches. Maybe he means it. “You could talk to him, you could at least see what he says -”

“No,” you interrupt. “No. I can’t do that.”

He shrugs, big and exaggerated. “Then move on. There are other people in the world who’d be happy to love you the right way. You can’t give any of them a proper chance if you’re holding it against them that they aren’t Mingyu.”

Like the one you ignored all night, who is still on his way to pick your ass up right now…

You push your hands against your eyes like you can block out the truth of what he’s saying, but you don’t say anything.

Jeonghan reaches out and rubs your shoulder. “I’m gonna go back in,” he says, gentle again. “It’s freezing out here. Just… think about it.”

“I’m thinking,” you say dryly.

He nods, then disappears back into the bar, the wave of sound crashing and fading as the door opens and closes.

You stay outside and wait for Daeyoung’s car, your hands going numb from the cold. You run the whole thing over and over in your head, replay Jeonghan’s words, daydream a hundred conversations with Mingyu each with different endings.

You think maybe you should take Jeonghan’s advice - put some physical distance between you and Mingyu, just as a starting point.

You hate the idea of it. But you know he’s right.

When Daeyoung pulls up, you slide into the passenger seat and tell him thank you, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He smiles at you, all sweet, and then whisks you away. Halfway to his place, he glances over at you.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he observes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you lie, and then instantly feel bad for it. “Just… argued with my roommate. I’m kind of cranky.”

He reaches out and squeezes your knee once, reassuringly. “Well, you’re welcome to stay with me,” he says, and when you whip around to look at him, he laughs. “I wasn’t being presumptuous. I just meant if you needed some space from them, you’re welcome. That’s all.”

“Yeah, okay,” you repeat, settling back against the seat. “We’ll see.”

You keep your eyes on the window for the rest of the drive.

You wonder if Mingyu brought that girl home, and then you shove that thought away, because you’re letting him go, starting tonight, and those thoughts aren’t going to serve you anymore.

And then you wonder the same thing again five minutes later.

–

April

Winter softens, the temperature sturdies itself, and the season forms solidly into rain-logged spring.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu sings. Even on the greyest, soggiest days you turn to him like a plant turns to sun. “I’m bored.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” you quip.

He drapes himself over you in retaliation, long arms and legs hanging heavy towards the floor as his torso smothers your face, drowning in you in his cinnamon-tinged scent.

You protest wordlessly and shove at him, and he laughs, his abs working near your chest with the motion.

“Entertain me,” he whines.

Things have been different - weird different, sometimes even bad different - for a few weeks now, all because of Jeonghan. You choose to blame him, anyway.

What he said to you plays in your head on loop all day every day, and suddenly you don’t know how to act right with Mingyu, causing you to overcorrect and swerve wildly. Sometimes you’re spending the entire day with him, touching and talking and leaning into it - then you think about it too hard and you spend the next two days icing him out.

It’s confusing for both of you. You can tell he notices, can tell he’s baffled by the change. More than once you’ve caught him looking at you like you’re a problem to solve - that face he makes when something isn’t working, or he’s got an equation of some sort to work out. But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make you feel bad about it, doesn’t confront you, just takes what you’ll give him with a smile.

You haven’t gone to his room in the middle of the night since your talk with Jeonghan, either. It feels like quitting something. The withdrawal eats at your nerves, the cravings taking over until you can’t focus on anything else. More than one night since then you’ve laid awake, staring at your ceiling, heart pounding as you argue with yourself - just go, you’ll sleep and you’ll feel better waging war against Jeonghan’s you can’t keep pretending you’re together and then falling apart when he makes it clear that it isn’t real.

Each time, you’d ended up staying in your own bed. Jeonghan is right. You knew it when he said it, and you know it now. You have to let go if you’re ever going to be happy. You can’t keep living in the shadows of Mingyu’s life, waiting for him to come give you just a slice of himself and pretending to be sated by it.

“I can’t entertain you, you pain in my ass,” you say, as he allows you to roll his heavy body off of yours and onto the other side of your bed. “I have a date with Daeyoung in like an hour. I need to go shampoo.”

“Booooo,” he complains. Then he props himself up on one elbow and gives you that familiar look again - the math problem look. Not calculating, exactly, but definitely evaluating. “You’ve been seeing him for a while,” he remarks, and you can hear the effort to keep his tone casual, which makes you wonder what he’s hiding.

“Like four months,” you say, not sure if this is agreeing with him or not.

He nods, then rolls to face your ceiling, arms behind his head. It does disgusting things to his biceps, and you look away, sitting up and reaching for your phone to check the time.

“How’s that going?” he asks, still all casual.

“Good,” you say airily, still not looking at him.

“Sunny,” he says, a bit more seriously, and it’s enough to make you glance his way. He’s facing you, arms still behind his head, but watching. “Why won’t you talk to me about it?”

Ice flows through your veins so quickly that you have the urge to blow on your fingers to warm them. Talk to me about it. You take a calming breath, remind yourself that he’s asking about Daeyoung, not about your feelings in general.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug. “Just feels weird.”

“It didn’t used to,” he says, and you know exactly what he means. You’d always talked to him about anything - including boys and crushes.

He doesn’t ask so what’s different now, but you know the answer anyway. You’re afraid you’ll say anything, and Mingyu - who knows you better than anyone else - will hear everything you aren’t trying to say. How you feel about him, how you’ve been trying to create distance and boundaries, how it’s been unsuccessful because you have no sense of consistency, how you can’t seem to accept that you don’t get to have him, how Daeyoung is so nice and fun and cute but still can’t silence the urge behind your ribs that screams for Mingyu.

“Yeah,” you sigh, acknowledging that he’s right - that you used to tell him everything. “I don’t know, Mingyu. It’s good. I like him. Like… I don’t necessarily think he’s The One or anything, but I’d be upset if we broke up?”

Mingyu nods, something complicated on his face. “Well,” he says finally, “That’s good. I’m glad it’s going well. You deserve it.”

There’s something flat in his voice, and you stand because you can’t just sit there next to him right now.

“Thanks,” you say, because you don’t know what else to say. “Well… I’m gonna go shower so I’m not late.” You grab the few things you need from your room and pause in your doorway. He’s pulled out his phone, his thumb swiping slowly and his eyes on the screen, and you carry on across the hallway, leaving him behind.

The way you need to. The way you’re trying to.

Daeyoung takes you to dinner, making you laugh so hard you have to wipe under your eyes, and listening intently when you bitch about work (and, yes, Marcus in Accounting).

After, as you walk along the river, looking out at the lights, Daeyoung reaches for your hand, and you link fingers.

This is what you need - to lean into it with someone, to really try with someone. Maybe that will ease this process of shifting Mingyu to the background. Maybe you just need to try.

Like he can read your mind, Daeyoung slows, turning to look at you. He says your name hesitantly, and you match his slowed pace, waiting.

“We’ve been doing this for a while,” he says, kind of hesitantly, “and I kind of wanted to see if we’re on the same page.”

When you just look at him, he forges ahead, the words rushing out of him now. “I really like you, and I really like this… and I was wondering how you’d feel about… maybe being more official?”

You feel yourself flush, a smile tugging at your lips. “Are you… asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He smiles back, relief washing over his face. “Yeah,” he says, much more confident now. “Yes, I am.”

You lick your lips, suddenly unsure. “Daeyoung,” you say, and you watch his face fall. You hurry to amend - “No, I’m not saying no! It’s just… I don’t know… I feel like we’ve kept things pretty… light. And I just worry that if we get more serious and you see more of me… you might…”

You trail off. He watches you intently, and then finishes for you, “Change my mind?”

You nod meekly. What if you can’t do it - what if you can’t push Mingyu out of your head and heart, what if you can’t start fresh with someone? Daeyoung has been wonderful to you. He doesn’t deserve to get hurt. He doesn’t deserve to be second choice, doesn’t deserve to be a consolation prize.

You can’t say yes if that’s what this will be. You need to be sure you’re all in, you need to be sure you want him and not just the fresh start he represents.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you say instead, quietly.

He considers this, watching you carefully. “Why do you think you will?”

It’s a fair question. “I’m… trying to get over someone,” you force yourself to say. He deserves to know what he’s walking into.

You watch his face for any change in expression. His expression does ripple a little, and then he licks his lips and asks, “And how’s that going?”

You scuff the toe of one shoe absently along the pavement. “Goes better when you’re around,” you admit. “But I don’t want to be… like… using you, I guess? It feels… unfair.”

He nods. “I appreciate that,” he says, looking away from you, at the river. He’s quiet for a while and then asks, “Are you into this? With me?”

“Yes,” you say emphatically, because despite the Mingyu of it all, it’s true. “I just don’t want you to end up with regrets.”

He smiles kind of ruefully. “Thanks for being honest,” he says, brushing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“What are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper. You really hope you aren’t breaking up right now, but you wouldn’t blame him if he called it off.

He lets out a long breath, very slowly, measured. “I’m thinking that no one can make promises at the beginning of a relationship.”

Your stomach jolts, terrified, at the word. He continues, oblivious.

“But,” he says, “you just take it a day at a time. That’s all I’m asking for - just a day. And then maybe another. We can go from there.”

You consider this, that tiny smile returning. He waits for your answer.

“Okay,” you say finally. “Yeah. If you’re sure you want that, then… yes.”

“Yes?” he repeats, like he needs to be sure. He’s already grinning, despite the turn the conversation had taken on the way here.

You laugh, feeling suddenly shy. “Yeah. Yes.”

He kisses you next to the singing river, and later you take a selfie together beside a food cart. You post it to social media with a blue heart emoji for the caption.

You swallow hard and swipe roughly to remove the notification when Mingyu likes the picture minutes later.

–

May

“Kim Mingyu!” you bellow, scooping up an armload of shirts and socks from the living room floor. “Get your gross, sweaty clothes off of our shared couch! The hamper is like three feet away!”

“Yah,” he complains, coming to take the offending pile from you. “You never cared before!”

“Well now her boyfriend is coming over,” Jeonghan says, somehow making the word sound sleezy. “She wants it to be pretty in here.”

“I hate you both,” you say. “I only like Wonwoo. He’s my only friend. Wonwoo, you’re my only friend.”

Wonwoo gives you a very deadpan finger heart from his spot on the couch.

Unfortunately, Jeonghan is kind of right.

You’ve mostly spent time out with Daeyoung or at his place - mostly because he lives alone and you live with a cast of clowns. But he has come over a handful of times. Sometimes he’s only there long enough to stand awkwardly by the front door while you finish putting on jewelry and shoes before whisking you away; other times he’s stayed to eat take-away and watch a movie as the aforementioned clowns filter in and out, leaving snappy comments like use protection in their wake.

Tonight’s the first time that the plan is for everyone to hang out. To say you’re nervous is an understatement, as evidenced by the uncharacteristic way you pace the house, adjusting items Daeyoung has already seen out of place as if it makes any difference.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu finally says, coming up and putting his hands on your shoulders, trying to still you. You pull back from his touch as gently as you can, trying to make that space with some subtly. “Why are you freaking out? He’s been here before.”

“Yeah, you’re right, why would I be nervous?” you ask sarcastically. “Why would I be nervous to have my boyfriend come over for games and movies with three notoriously very nice people who never make trouble?”

“Rude,” Wonwoo remarks from the couch.

“Not you, Wonwoo, you’re my only friend,” you tell him without even turning your head. You hear Jeonghan snort.

“You said three,” Mingyu points out seriously, stepping back from you like he silently got the memo about space. “That includes Wonwoo.”

“Fine, I retract my statement. Two people who make trouble, and then one person who knows how to be normal sometimes.”

A knock on the door interrupts you before anyone can push your buttons any further.

“Be nice,” you tell them sternly as you head to open the door. “Be normal. For the love of god, at least try.”

“She has no faith in us,” Jeonghan says sadly behind you.

“We probably shouldn’t try Monopoly tonight,” Mingyu remarks, and you hate that he’s right.

You all almost broke up over Monopoly, once. You never played again.

“Yeah, put that one away,” you agree, as you pull the door open.

Daeyoung greets you with a smile and a small bouquet of flowers - nothing too fancy, just a little something. You pay for them with a smile and a kiss, lifting onto your tiptoes to reach his lips.

“Awwww, so cute,” Jeonghan coos from across the apartment.

“Jeonghan,” you say sharply. “What did we talk about?”

Daeyoung feigns a pout. “You don’t think we’re cute?”

You slap at his arm playfully and step back to let him in. You head to the kitchen to find a vase for the flowers, listening as the men all exchange heys and how’ve you beens.

You all settle for a variation of Rummy, sitting around the kitchen table with a smattering of snacks and drinks, chatting easily as you play.

At the end of the second hand, you ask, “Wait, what does that put me at?”

“Sixty-two,” Daeyoung says, just as Mingyu says, “Sixty-three.”

You look at them both blankly. You and numbers don’t vibe.

Jeonghan looks at the little note on his phone where he was tallying scores. “Sixty-three,” he confirms.

“Whoops,” Daeyoung says apologetically. “I wasn’t trying to short you on points, sweetheart.”

All three of your roommates stiffen, and you feel your face heat. “No worries,” you say quickly, reaching to cut the deck for the next hand. “Whose turn is it?”

Be normal, be normal, be normal, you mentally beg the clowns.

“I think it’s mine, sweetie-pie,” Jeonghan deadpans. You kick him ferociously under the table, not even trying to be subtle, and he swears.

“Knock it off,” you growl.

“You’re upsetting pookie, hyung,” Mingyu says somberly.

“I hate all of you,” you whine. And then, on instinct, “Not you, Wonwoo.”

Daeyoung looks around the table, amused. “Is this always how it is around here?”

“Basically,” Wonwoo admits. “Just usually with a lot more -” He stops short, coughing, and reaches for his drink. You all wait, your heart thrumming nervously. You’re sure he’d been about to drop a crack about you and Mingyu’s physical affection. “A lot more yelling,” he finishes. “This is everyone on their best behavior, because Sunny threatened us.”

Daeyoung laughs, and you pray that the moment went unnoticed. You can tell Mingyu is a bit still on your other side, and if it was a month ago you would have reached over to him already, soothed a hand down his arm or pressed your cheek to his shoulder until he untensed. You rest your hands in your lap, instead, eyes on your cards.

After Rummy, which Jeonghan wins by a landslide, you all head to the couches for a movie. Your roommates and you have always had unspoken “spots”, but Daeyoung’s presence throws the balance off entirely. Normally you’d be next to Mingyu but he takes Jeonghan’s spot, leaving the other guys to buffer as they try to figure out a new arrangement.

“Here,” Daeyoung says, tugging on your wrist until you settle on his lap, legs hanging just off the side of his own, “we can make room.”

Jeonghan tosses you a small blanket and a wink and settles in on the far side of your couch, giving the two of you lots of room. Wonwoo flicks off the overhead lights and settles next to Mingyu, the two of them awkwardly squished on the two-seater. But, blessedly, no one complains as the opening score emanates from the sound bar.

As the movie begins, you relax, leaning sideways against Daeyoung’s chest, his arms looped around you. You stomp down on the intrusive thought that wants to compare how comfortable this is to how comfortable you’d been with Mingyu for past movie nights, internally hissing at your own brain for the unwelcome thought.

“You good?” he murmurs, voice low, only for you, one hand rubbing the small of your back lightly.

“Mhm,” you assure him, reaching up to kiss the edge of his jaw, the only bit of him that you can reach comfortably. He smiles down at you, endeared, and then turns his attention to the television again. You can feel someone’s eyes on you, but you refuse to look, refuse to give attention to whoever is trying to heckle you right now. They can’t just let you live, huh?

Halfway through the movie, Mingyu stands, moving out of the way of the screen quickly and heading to the kitchen. You don’t lift your head from Daeyoung’s check, just watching him go through the corners of your eyes.

“Anyone need a drink?” he calls from the kitchen. “Hyung? Sunny Baby?”

Daeyoung physically recoils, his head snapping back so he can look at you, wide-eyed. You look back at him the same way, feeling like you’ve been caught at something.

“It’s just habit,” you say, quietly, and Jeonghan turns away, shifting awkwardly next to you two. “Old nickname from a million years ago.”

Daeyoung nods, but his face is still a bit stricken.

“Hello?” Mingyu calls from the kitchen. “Beer? Anyone?”

“No, thanks!” you call back, trying to force your voice to come out cheerful.

When he returns, flopping unceremoniously into his spot next to Wonwoo, Daeyoung’s arms tighten around you.

You close your eyes, frustrated. You hope you can salvage this. You’d been afraid from the jump that the Mingyu factor - even with the changes you’ve been purposely making, all that space - would damage what you have with Daeyoung, as effective as a drop of ink in a bucket of water.

When the movie ends, Wonwoo gives a polite goodbye and vanishes into his lair and you lead Daeyoung back towards the front door. Behind you, you can hear the tell-tale clicks of bottles as Jeonghan and Mingyu start picking up the food and drinks.

“I’m sorry,” you say, as soon as you have some semblance of privacy in the entryway. “I knew hanging out here was going to be a mess.”

Daeyoung manages a smile. “It wasn’t a mess,” he says. “I just didn’t realize how close you all were.”

He’s being too nice. You feel terrible.

“I think we might get less close very soon if they can’t get their shit together,” you grumble, which makes him laugh, some of the tension alleviating.

“Well,” Daeyoung says, suddenly turning conspiratory, “while your place was very fun… what would you say to some fun at my place now?”

You giggle. “I wouldn’t hate that plan,” you say coyly, smiling up at him. “Quieter, there. Fewer clowns.”

He laughs again, even as he reaches to tilt your jaw up, shuffling you backwards against the entryway wall as his lips find yours.

As the kiss warms you, your hands finding the front of his shirt and bunching it into your fists, heat beginning to trickle out of hiding in your belly, you hear footsteps and an abrupt, “Oh - shit - sorry - my bad -”

“Your place,” you say against Daeyoung’s lips as Mingyu retreats back to the kitchen. You can practically feel through the wall how red his ears are.

Daeyoung lets you out of his embrace and you hurry to your room to toss a few things together - toothbrush, phone charger, clothes - and come to get your jacket.

“Bye, idiots!” you call through the apartment. Then, “Not you, Wonwoo!” and you close the door behind you with a giggle, following Daeyoung down the stairs.

On the other side of the wall, safely hidden in the kitchen, Mingyu stands staring blankly at the pantry, one hand over his mouth, still as a statue. What is this feeling churning in his gut? He feels sick, and he can’t put a name to it but he hates how it crawls through his system.

Jeonghan appears next to him, placing two more dirty cups in the sink. He lets out a single, wry laugh when he sees Mingyu standing there.

“Yeah, dude,” he says easily as he leaves again. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

–

June

You and Mingyu lay side by side in the grass, a late spring night unfurling with distant thunder and a smattering of fireflies lazily drifting through the trees beyond the garden. His arm brushes yours and you can hear his breathing as he exhales slowly.

You feel happy - you feel infinite - you feel like one of those distant cracks of ferocious thunder. You feel like you could lay here next to him in silence and be happy until your joy has to burst from you, just like the clouds on the horizon.

“Mingyu,” you say, turning to look at him. The grass tickles your cheek.

“Sunny Baby,” he responds, voice low, like he’s telling you a secret. “I love you.”

You wake up with faint tear-tracks on your cheeks, and you growl out a frustrated breath.

“I need a lobotomy,” you grumble, wiping at your cheeks and trying to get comfortable again, hoping to go back to sleep - with less ridiculous dreams.

It doesn’t happen. You flop from side to side over the course of half an hour, and then give up. You reach for your nightstand to see if you have any water, but there’s nothing but your phone and the lamp. With a sigh, you push yourself out from under the blankets and pad into the kitchen.

You’re letting a glass fill with tap water when you hear one of the other doors down the hallway open. You turn, peering through the moonlit living room, to see who else is up. The clock above the stove says it’s four in the morning.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu says, his voice rough with sleep. His hair is sticking up in the back. Your stomach lurches with the sick desire to smooth it down. “Why are you up?”

“Had a bad dream,” you lie. It was a good dream. Nothing bad about it until you wake up and feel guilty because of Daeyoung, and angry because your brain and heart are holding you fucking hostage. “Couldn’t get back to sleep.” That part’s true.

“Poor Sunny Baby,” he croons, coming closer, the darkness making his form seem even bigger. “Come on - we’ll get comfy.” Just like we used to, he doesn’t say.

Your heart slams against your chest. “Oh,” you say softly. Because, yeah, a few months ago you wouldn’t have even needed him to invite you - you would have been there already, snuggling into the space next to his ribs, breathing him in until sleep returns to you. “Mingyu, I can’t.”

The blanket of darkness makes him bold. He scoffs, not even trying to hide it. “Why not? Because of that guy?” Like he doesn’t know Daeyoung’s name, like the last five months never happened. That guy.

“Because I want to respect my relationship?” you correct gently. “Yes, that’s why. It wouldn’t be right, and you know it.”

You stand in silence for a moment, barely able to see each other across the darkened space, at an impasse. Then, he scoffs again, lighter this time.

“Fine,” he says, moving past you towards the bathroom - probably the reason he was up in the first place. “Suit yourself.”

When he passes back through the living room on his way back to bed, you’re curled up on the couch under one of the blankets, the tv on with the sound turned low. He doesn’t even look at you as he turns down the hall and shuts his bedroom door behind him. You hear the lock click. You press your hands to your face and will yourself to breathe deep. Crying over him while asleep is one thing. Doing it while awake feels like a betrayal.

Just one more you can add to your list.

–

“Hey!” you yell across the noisy room. Mingyu turns from where he’s standing near your bedroom door, talking to a few guys who you’ve seen around here but whose names you forget. Seok… something. The other one might be a Chan, you’re not sure. Mingyu lifts an eyebrow, waiting for whatever request you’re going to shout at him.

“Can you get the door for me?” you call, trying to be louder than the music and chatter. Your apartment is bursting with people as Mingyu’s annual summer bash is well underway. You’re at the pong table - your kitchen table, shoved halfway into the living room - a slightly sticky plastic ball in hand. “Daeyoung is here, I can feel my phone going off.”

Mingyu gives you a wordless salute and shuffles off towards the front door, and you close one eye, lean forward as far as the others will let you without calling a foul, and line up your shot.

You sink it just seconds before you feel someone’s hands on your hips. You straighten up and turn to greet Daeyoung with a kiss, firm and confident courtesy of many drinks. The party’s been going for a few hours already, and you and the guys pregamed before the guests started showing up.

“Hi!” you chirp when you part. “Glad you made it!”

“This is a lot of people,” he says back, looking around your living room and kitchen a bit incredulously. “You said you guys do this every year?”

You nod seriously. “We bribe our neighbors. I mean, they’re all invited of course, but we also try to do something nice to make up for the one night of noise. Last year I baked cookies. This year we just went straight to cash.”

He laughs, and you lead him through the throng of people into the kitchen for a drink.

“I’m glad you came,” you say again, as he stands before the open fridge, scanning beer bottle labels for something palatable. He sends you a smile over his shoulder, then picks a bottle and turns. You place the opener into his waiting hand.

“You look good tonight,” he tells you, all glinty, looking at you sideways. You pretend to preen.

“Sunny always looks good,” Jeonghan asserts, breezing in behind you holding a bowl full of chips.

“Are you sharing those?” you demand. “You can’t gatekeep the good ones, Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this.”

“Gatekeep, girlboss, whatever the third one is!” he replies, zipping back out of the kitchen as quickly as he’d come.

Out in the living room, you hear the familiar sound of the karaoke machine booting up. There’s a telltale scraping - the pong table being shoved against the far wall to make more room for jumping around while aiming for that perfect score.

When you and Daeyoung make it into the living room again, Mingyu and one of the friends whose names you forgot are singing together. Mingyu’s all irony, eyes closed in mock passion as he clutches his mic with both hands, but his friend is actually good, voice sailing over the higher notes without error.

“Wow,” you say. “That guy can actually sing.”

One of your friends, a girl you lovingly call Ethel because of the style of grandma glasses she favors, stops in front of you, pushing little plastic shot glasses into your hands.

“Are you the boyfriend?” she asks Daeyoung, somewhat breathlessly. “I’ve been dying to actually meet you. She’s been keeping you a secret.”

“I have not!” you reply hotly, as Daeyoung laughs, introducing himself.

“It’s nice to meet her other friends,” he says, and she rolls her eyes.

“I know, it’s hard to separate her from these guys,” she says. “They deserve a sitcom.”

“I’m standing right here,” you protest.

Jeonghan appears behind you, too close. “We have a little problem in the kitchen,” he whispers.

You excuse yourself, leaving Daeyoung with Ethel - who will hopefully say nothing too incriminating about you and Mingyu’s blurry-lined friendship.

In the kitchen, Wonwoo is kneeling on the floor, his upper body hidden in the cupboard under the sink. When he shuffles back out, the front of his shirt is wet. You can see a bit of water starting to pool on the boards below the cleaning supplies.

“Uh oh,” you say.

Mingyu appears to your left, solid and warm against your arm. Then he crouches, peering under the sink.

“Can I have someone’s phone?” he asks, and you pass him yours. He turns on the flashlight and shines it at the pipes. You watch his face do that thing - that calculating look, the problem-solving look.

“It’s this one,” he says, pointing to something you can’t see under there. “Where’s our toolbox?”

“Great question,” Wonwoo says, mouth twisting as he tries to remember. “Laundry room?”

“I think so,” you say. “I think it’s on the shelf in there.”

Mingyu scoots out from under the sink and disappears into the little nook you all graciously call a laundry room, since it does have a functional door, then reappears with two tools in hand. You don’t know what they are - you’ve never needed to.

You and Jeonghan and Wonwoo stand around him, worried, like you’re waiting for a doctor to emerge through hospital doors to report on the status of a loved one. When Mingyu backs out of the cabinet again, it’s with an air of smugness.

“All set,” he says, one side of his mouth quirking proudly.

“Our hero,” Jeonghan deadpans.

“This is why we keep you around,” you tell him.

“Get the man a shot,” Jeonghan says, swiveling to the collection of bottles on the counter.

Daeyoung finds you on the kitchen floor, using a rag to wipe up any bits of water. Wonwoo and Mingyu both disappeared to change into dry shirts, you think.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you tell him, wiping one last spot and leaning up on your knees to look around for any areas you might have missed. The last thing you need is for someone to slip in here. “The sink broke. It’s okay now, Mingyu fixed it.”

“Well, thank god for Mingyu,” he says, and you look up at him, not sure if you’re imagining the edge in his voice. Are you? Did you project that?

“Well,” you say, “kind of! Because four of us live here, and only one person could solve the problem.”

He laughs reluctantly. “I can fix a sink,” he says, a bit of a pout in his voice.

You stand, returning the rag to the counter. “I’ll make sure to ask you first next time,” you say, leaning up to brush your lips teasingly across his. “I just thought the rent-payer should handle the problem before the guests.”

“I guess that’s fair,” he allows, smiling bigger.

A while later, you find yourself in Wonwoo’s room, leaning against the wall watching somewhat absently as he and one of his friends play a POV shooter game, their brows furrowed in concentration and fingers flying on the controls.

Daeyoung had been with you only moments ago, reporting into your ear on the game’s happening like a sports commentator to make you laugh, but he’d gone to get you each a new drink. Mingyu appears in his absence, and you can tell immediately that he’s sloppy.

“Sunny Baby,” he sings, draping an arm over your shoulders.

You can’t help but smile, even as you try to shift out from under his arm. “Yes?” you sing back teasingly. “Can I help you?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “You can stay just like this.” He wraps his other arm around you, and you laugh, pushing very gently at his chest.

“Mingyu,” you protest, laughing. “Get off me.”

“I will in one second,” he says, smiling cheekily. “You haven’t let me hug you in a hundred years, I have to take advantage now that your defenses are weakened by cheap vodka.”

“Mingyu!” you laugh again.

And then you see Daeyoung in the doorway behind him, face unreadable.

“Mingyu,” you say again, deadly serious now. “Let go.”

Daeyoung slowly reaches to put the two beers on Wonwoo’s dresser and turns, wordlessly retreating down the hallway.

“Damn it, Mingyu,” you hiss, extracting yourself and hurrying to follow him. Daeyoung makes it clear outside and down the front steps before you catch him.

“Daeyoung, wait!” you call, and he finally slows, turning to face you. You jog to catch up, a bit breathless. You’ve had way too much to drink for this kind of confrontation, but you try to get your shit together enough to defend yourself. Or apologize. Or both.

He doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows and waits.

“Don’t -” you start, and then switch tracks quickly. “That was nothing. He’s like that when he’s had too much to drink. He’s just being silly.”

Daeyoung laughs once, sharp and sarcastic. “Don’t lie to me,” he says flatly.

“I’m not!” you protest. “It’s true.”

He shakes his head, swipes his thumb across his phone screen and taps around.

“Don’t leave,” you beg. “I’m sorry. I was trying to tell him to let go.”

He twists his mouth, refusing to look at you. At the far end of the street, you can see approaching headlights. He’s ordered a ride home.

“When you said you were trying to get over someone I didn't pry,” he says flatly, “but I guess I should have. You could’ve had the decency to tell me that you live with him.”

The slam of the car door feels final, the sound passing over you like shrapnel.

The blink of red taillights has just vanished around the corner when strong arms wrap around you. Mingyu must have followed, must have been watching from the door, must have seen it happen.

You’ve been trying to make space, you’ve been trying to stay away, but you’re buzzed and you’re sad and you’re weak. So, you turn in his arms, burying your face in his shirt and letting yourself cry.

He holds you through it, doesn’t say anything to you, just holds on tight until you can breathe again.

“I don’t want you to see this,” you sniffle finally, and he lets his arms drop, stepping back so he can look at you. “This shouldn’t be you.”

“That’s fair,” he murmurs, sounding much more sober than he had inside. “But I’m the one who’s here. Tell me you want me to go, and I will.”

Your heart cracks.

“I don’t want you to go,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he says, wrapping you up again, leaning his chin on the top of your head and swaying you a little bit. “Then I won’t.”

Eventually, you both lay in the grass. You don’t want to go inside, and Mingyu says he doesn’t want to leave you alone in the front yard. Instead, you lay side by side, far enough away that you’d have to stretch to touch. It feels like that night in undergrad, but also completely opposite. In your memories of that night, you felt warm and good like your place in the universe was guaranteed, your cog in the great machine fitting perfectly and spinning without difficulty. Tonight, you feel off, cold and angry, like your piece has been displaced and can’t fit anywhere anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu says, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to make problems for you guys.”

“I know you didn’t,” you allow.

“It was just us being us,” he says, a bit defensively.

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “I think that was the problem.”

He has nothing to say to that.

Daeyoung calls you, much later, when you’re back inside and tucked in your bed.

“Were you sleeping?” he asks.

“Of course not,” you say. “I’m lying awake agonizing over you storming out on me.”

He laughs quietly, and you feel hope bloom behind your ribs. Is this salvageable?

“I might have overreacted,” he admits. “It’s easy to be intimidated by that guy.”

That guy again. What is it with these two?

“You shouldn’t be,” you tell him. “He’s an idiot.”

Daeyoung laughs again. “So am I,” he says.

“You don’t need to worry about him,” you say. “I’ve been really trying to adjust the boundaries of our friendship, and it’s a big change from how we used to be. Usually we do better… Like I said earlier, he was drunk. He just forgot himself, went back to how things used to be.”

Daeyoung is quiet for a second. “I should have let you explain yourself before I left,” he says evenly.

“I’m sorry I put you in that position in the first place,” you counter. “I didn’t mean to. I’m in this with you, Daeyoung. I promise.”

“I know,” he admits. “I know you are.”

You smile into the phone. “Our first fight.”

He laughs again. “Hopefully not one of many.”

“Eh,” you say. “It’s normal. Anyway, I’m glad you called. I would have been a mess waiting to hear from you. Might have embarrassed myself blowing your phone up.”

“Maybe I should have let you embarrass yourself,” he teases.

“It’s like that, huh?” you joke.

“Yes,” he sniffs. “Until I feel better.”

When you finally hang up, you creep through the apartment to pee before trying to sleep. You notice Mingyu’s light is on, though his door is shut. You pause, looking at that sliver of light, and then continue on back to your own bed.

–

July

“Move over!” you giggle, using your hips to scoot Daeyoung out of your way, a wooden spoon in your hand. The simmering stew on the stovetop smells delectable, and you give it a stir, make sure nothing is stuck to the bottom of the pot.

“Ask nicely!” he retorts, but he’s smiling.

Mingyu watches the scene covertly from the couch, trying to keep his face neutral, trying to keep his face tilted towards the tv so he doesn’t get caught watching. Or worse, caught sulking.

You and Daeyoung eat and wash up most of what you used to cook, offer the leftovers to anyone around to hear you (so, just Mingyu), and then leave, giggles and flirting dissipating and leaving Mingyu in a quiet that he absolutely can’t stand.

When you return the next day, trying to look nonchalant with your overnight bag clutched in your hands, Mingyu is at the kitchen table, eating some of the leftovers and watching videos on his phone.

“Hey,” he greets you, pausing the video.

You give your overnight bag a light toss; it lands with a thump over near the couch. “Hey yourself,” you say, heading into the kitchen for a drink. “The food’s good, right?”

“Yeah,” he admits. “Your man can cook, huh?”

“Hey!” you object. “I did most of the work!”

“Hmm,” he says, rising and coming into the kitchen to rinse his plate.

You cross your arms, eyes narrowing. “Hmmm what?”

He shrugs teasingly. “We’ve lived together a long time, Sunny. I have a hard time believing you’re the chef in that relationship. You never helped me cook anything.”

Your eyes narrow even more. “You never asked me to,” you retort, suddenly defensive. “There’s a lot of things I do with Daeyoung because you never asked me to.”

Silence falls on the kitchen like a rockslide.

Mingyu takes one very careful step backwards. “Because I never asked you to?” he echoes, his voice shaking just slightly.

Your pulse races, and you fight a wave of nausea. A Freudian slip if there ever was one.

“That you never asked me to,” you amend firmly.

Mingyu hesitates. Then, “I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

That defensiveness moves inside you like a thing alive, your temper flaring in an effort to protect you.

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snap, suddenly pissed.

Mingyu doesn’t rise to the bait, doesn’t match your temper at all. Calm and steady, he says, “So then you tell me. How do you feel, Sunny?”

That rockslide hits you. You can’t breathe, too bruised by the onslaught. All the years of secrets and feelings and broken rules and truths that you knew but pretended not to spill around you, impossible to escape.

“You don’t get to ask me that,” you hiss at him. “Not now. That’s not fair.”

His calm cracks, just slightly, his tone going hard. “What are you talking about?”

“Why now, Mingyu?” you demand. “Why now, when I have someone? Why not any of the years before now, when I was only yours?”

You’re breathing hard, having spat the words like they’re venom, and you wait him out. He blusters, splutters, has nothing to say to this.

Your temper pulls you like a wave, a momentum you can’t fight.

“You don’t know the answer?” you ask sarcastically. “That’s fine - I can tell you: because you had me. You had me, and you didn’t need to share me, and you could still do whatever - or whoever! - you wanted and I’d still fucking be here afterward.”

You know exactly the moment you start crying through the words, because Mingyu’s body jolts, like he instinctively moved to touch you but remembered to stay back.

“And now?” you continue, because you’re on a roll, everything you’ve held in for years finally bursting from you with the fury of a cracked dam. “Now that’s changed. So, what is it? You want your toy back now that someone else is playing with it?”

“Of course not-”

“Fuck you, Mingyu! You sat me on the shelf for too long. I don’t deserve that.”

“Sunny, no,” he tries again. “It isn’t like that. I lo-”

“Yes, it is!” you shout. You’ve never shouted at him in your life, and it actually shuts him up. Tears are still streaming down your face, but you ignore them. “It is, and until you see that, I can’t expect you to change it or fix it.”

You start to storm past him, but you whirl on him, a finger pointed in his direction. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you love me!” you add furiously. “No you don’t. Not the right way, not like this.”

And then you slam out of the apartment, barely remembering to grab your keys off the hook as you go.

–

[5:22pm] You: if i send you a list of what i need, can you please put a bag together for me and leave it in the hall

[5:22pm] (jeong)Han Solo: :( sunny

[5:22pm] You: hannie please??? i can’t go inside. i really can’t.

[5:23pm] (jeong)Han Solo: he’s a fucking wreck

[5:23pm] You: i don’t care

[5:24pm] You: i mean of course i fucking care that’s the whole problem

[5:24pm] You: please? my things?

–

August

August 3

[10:02am] Mingyu: sunny please talk to me

[12:17pm] Mingyu: please let me apologize to you

[12:17pm] Mingyu: i dont want to do it over text but you wont answer my calls and no one seems to know where you are

[12:22pm] Mingyu: you were right. about all of it.

[12:22pm] Mingyu: and you were right that you dont deserve it

[12:22pm] Mingyu: please call me back or come home so i can say this to your face

[5:38pm] Mingyu: there’s one part you were wrong about

[5:38pm] Mingyu: i do love you. the right way. maybe it took losing you to someone to get my ass moving but i loved you way before he was in the picture

[5:38pm] Mingyu: dont ever question that again

[11:04pm] Mingyu: god, sunny, answer your phone!

August 4

[7:43am] Mingyu: you’re killing me

[7:43am] Mingyu: are you happy sunshine???? KILLING ME!!!

[1:36pm] Mingyu: come home

[1:36pm] Mingyu: please

[8:02pm] Mingyu: we HAVE to talk about this, sunny

[11:51pm] Mingyu: i’m not going to give up

[10:23am] (jeong)Han Solo: are you staying with daeyoung for a while?

[10:23am] You: no. my mom’s.

[10:23am] (jeong)Han Solo: ok. im glad you’re with someone who can care for you.

[10:23am] (jeong)Han Solo: we miss you :(

August 5

[8:00am] Mingyu: fine, i’ll say everything over text like an asshole

[8:00am] Mingyu: just know you made me do this!

[8:04am] Mingyu: i fell in love with you in undergrad when you had to take that statistics class that you almost failed. when you saw your midterm score was passing you told me i love you for the first time and i swear to god i almost proposed to you right there. And it never went away. It was never less.

[8:08am] Mingyu: i love you because you wield your attitude like both sword and shield. I love you because you can barely count but you make me feel so stupid sometimes with how clever you are. I love you because you’re beautiful and funny and empathetic and you make me want to be better than i am. I want to be more competent for you, to be able to take care of you and provide for you when you need it. I love you because when i’m sick you take care of me and you let me take care of you when you’re down too. I love you because when i’m with you i feel like someone’s GOT me, someone understands me and has my back.

[8:09am] Mingyu: i cant believe youre making me say this all in TEXT i hate this!

[8:10am] Mingyu: i have more. I have a hundred more reasons.

[8:10am] Mingyu: come home so i can tell you

[11:58pm] Mingyu: goodnight sunny baby. Please come home soon.

You show up to Daeyoung’s unannounced. His face is grim when he opens the door; you haven’t answered his calls or texts in a few days, either. He probably knows what this is.

“Hi,” he says, stepping backwards to make room for you in his doorway. “This is a surprise.”

“I’m sorry I vanished,” you tell him. “Something happened. I’ve been at my mom’s.”

He eyes you warily, like he’s not sure if this is a I got in a car accident kind of something, or a I cheated on you kind of something, and he doesn’t want to react for the wrong one. “Okay…” he says slowly.

“Daeyoung,” you say, after taking a breath to steel yourself, “I care about you, and I like you, and I have real feelings for you.”

“I sense a but,” he says dryly.

You smile sadly. “But I dont think this is fair to you. I shouldn’t be with someone - anyone - until I’m over him or he’s out of my life… and I can’t seem to make either of those things happen.” You don’t need to say which him. You both know. “I wanted to. I wanted to do it right and I thought I was… but I was wrong.”

He shrugs, face blank. “Okay.”

“Daeyoung.”

“What do you want me to say?” he asks, frustration seeping into his tone. “I can't argue with any of that. I can’t change it for you. I can’t be better than him, I can't become him. You’re right, you shouldn’t be with someone else if what you really want is that guy.”

That guy. Again.

“You’re right,” you whisper, looking at your feet.

He lets out a breath. “So, it’s done then?”

You nod miserably. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Daeyoung. I hope someday you can believe that this isn’t how I wanted it to go. You deserve better.”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t let you go out with any optimism. You and your misery trudge back to your mother’s, fall asleep in your childhood bed.

August 6

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning ☀️

[8:00am] Mingyu: i have more things to say today

[8:00am] Mingyu: i will give you two 2️⃣ minutes to respond or you get it all thru text AGAIN

[8:00am] Mingyu: and you know how i feel about that.

[8:03am] Mingyu: fine.

[8:03am] Mingyu: you’ve always been so fucking stubborn sunny. just let me apologize to you!

[8:05am] Mingyu: i’m sorry i kept you on hold

[8:05am] Mingyu: you’re right. that’s what was happening. but i didn’t MEAN it like that.

[8:05am] Mingyu: idk if you believe me bc i can’t see your face 🙄

[8:06am] Mingyu: but its true. I just… liked how things were. Youre right… i counted on you always being there waiting for me.

[8:06am] Mingyu: i thought it was okay though… i thought if you wanted it to change you had the power to change it

[8:07am] Mingyu: like, you could have said something to me.

[8:07am] Mingyu: and i dont mean that like its your fault or anything, it was just how i rationalized it to myself. Like if you werent complaining then it must be fine?

[8:09am] Mingyu: i’m an idiot

[8:14am] Mingyu: but i’m an idiot who loves you, and misses you, and wants to do better

[11:59pm] Mingyu: please come home

[12:32pm] You: i broke up with him.

[12:32pm] (jeong)Han Solo: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[12:32pm] (jeong)Han Solo: are you okay???

[12:32pm] (jeong)Han Solo: come home so we can take care of you!!

[12:58pm] You: i cant face him. not yet. im not ready

August 7

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny ☀️

[8:00am] Mingyu: i’m sorry i took you for granted. even if we walk out of this only trying to repair the friendship, i swear i’ll never let it happen again.

[11:58pm] Mingyu: goodnight sunshine. I love you.

August 8

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny ☀️

[8:00am] Mingyu: dont work too hard today

[8:00am] Mingyu: dont take any shit from marcus in accounting

[12:12pm] Mingyu: having lunch. call me if you want? it doesnt have to be heavy. Just hello.

[12:39pm] Mingyu: i need you back sunny. in whatever capacity youll let me have.

[11:57pm] Mingyu: hope you had a good day. Goodnight, i love you.

August 9

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny

[11:58pm] Mingyu: please. Please come home.

–

When you return home, a week after you left, it’s nearly dawn, the light from outside the living room just turning blue enough that you can see the outlines of the couches as you close the door as quietly as you can.

You step lightly, avoiding the spots you know will creak and groan when you step over them. You peer down the hallway to see that the guys’ doors are all shut, no lights on - not even the blues of Wonwoo’s computer monitor.

You open your door and look around; your room looks exactly how you left it, down to the glass of water on the nightstand, now nearly empty. Except… the blankets on the bed are wrong. You set your bag down gently next to your dresser and creep closer, squinting through the dimly lit room.

A dark head of hair peeks out from under your comforter.

You can’t help it - you smile to yourself. For all the things Mingyu is - intelligent, funny, athletic, competent - he’s also a big baby. And he’s sleeping in your bed, because he misses you, and it comforts him.

It makes you want to forgive him for every wrong, press your lips to his sleepy forehead, listen to him lisp out Sunny Baby.

He hurt you, it’s true. But you believe it that he was lying to himself, pretending things were fine. Weren’t you doing the exact same thing? You can’t hope Daeyoung will forgive you for your mistakes if you aren’t willing to do the same, too.

You close your bedroom door and approach your bed. Mingyu stirs, making cricket legs under the blanket and stretching one arm towards the empty side. Towards you, though he doesn’t know it yet.

Then he freezes. His voice comes out paper thin. “Sunny?” he asks, pushing himself to sitting.

“This is not your bed,” you tell him, and he launches himself across the mattress, scrambling to reach you.

You allow him to wrap his gangly arms around your middle, pulling you to him as apologies pour over his lips so fast that he’s nearly babbling.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pushing at his shoulders. You back away and he follows like he’s tethered to you, clambering from the bed and standing before you.

For a moment, you just stare at each other through the thick blue of encroaching dawn.

And then he says your name.

Not Sunny. Not Sunny Baby. Your real name.

“I am so sorry - for everything,” he says, the ache in his voice clear and open. Then he drops his voice to a pained whisper. “Please. Tell me I can fix it.”

You press your lips together, looking at him. He looks awful - like he hasn’t slept much, or been eating well. You feel a little bad that you stayed away for so long, but you’d needed the time by yourself. You’d needed the clarity of being alone to figure out what you want.

“I think we can,” you whisper back, since the rest of the apartment is still sleeping. We, because this was on both of you.

He crushes you in a hug, surrounding you in the smell of cinnamon, his cheek pressed to your head. “I’m sorry,” he breathes into your hair. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please let me try and do better.”

“I broke up with Daeyoung,” you respond, and he snaps his mouth shut, stepping backwards to stare at you.

“Why?” he asks finally, hoarse, like he can barely get the word out.

You look up at him. “Because it wasn’t right to be with him. It wasn’t right to be with him when I’ve been in love with someone else the whole time.”

He closes his eyes, his whole body seeming to sag.

“I forgive you,” you say quietly, “and I do believe that things will be better now. If we talk about it - if we’re working together to make it better.”

“Yes,” he says quickly, desperately. “I will - I’ll do whatever I need to -”

“Both of us,” you say again, emphatically. “You were right, this wasn’t just your fault. I let this go on for… years. I counted marks against you but I never once spoke up.”

“No,” he protests, shaking his head. “It was my fault, Sunny, I took it for granted and I should have been loving you, spoiling you -”

You laugh. “I mean, maybe,” you say. “But if I’d talked to you… maybe you would have been.”

“I want to now,” he says. “Can I? Will you let me?”

You smile up at him, and he grins back, taking your smile as an answer.

You reach up and touch his eye-tooth gently with a fingertip. “Your stupid fang is so fucking cute,” you whisper. “It is truly unfair how cute it is.”

He pretends to scowl at you. “We’re having a serious moment, here, Sunshine.”

You smile again, gentler this time. “I love you,” you tell him. “If you want to prove you can do this right… then I’m all in.”

He whispers your name again, then looks at you.

His eyes are molten again, the way they were the night you’d had your only kiss. It’s almost hypnotizing, the strength of his gaze on you, pulling you in wordlessly until your body is flush with his. You look up at him, breathless.

“I’ll start proving it now,” he murmurs, so low you barely catch it, and then his mouth snags on yours, forceful, his hands cupping your jaw gently, a juxtaposition.

He touches you so tenderly, his fingers feather-light against the skin they uncover as you undress each other in hushed silence. It feels holy, somehow.

He licks spices and heat into your mouth, trails calloused fingers down your bare arms, pulls your hips into his as his teeth trace down your jaw, makes sure you feel his want for you.

You slide your hands from his waist up his stomach and over his pecs, revelling in how he hisses and leans into the touch.

“Wanted to do this for years,” he grumbles, like he’s complaining, before lowering his lips to your chest, sucking on supple skin to see how you like it, then doing it harder when you dig your fingers into his shoulders, gasping at the sensation.

“Should’ve,” you scold, even as your eyes close and your head tilts back. “Could’ve been.”

But you aren’t thinking about your wasted time when he kneads both hands in the meat of your ass, or when you slide a flat palm up the length of him, delighting in the weight and heat you find straining against his Calvins. You’re thinking about how his hands are searing, about how you want to taste him but maybe not yet, not this first time. You’re thinking about his fingers sliding between your legs and the belly-deep rumble he makes when he feels how ready you are for him.

And when you finally come together, his mouth pressed to yours as he lays you back on the bed you’ve shared countless times, you’re only thinking about him and his beautiful smile and molten eyes and infectious laugh and empathetic heart. When he’s pushed as far into you as your bodies will allow, his hips tight against you and a whine slipping between his lips, you’re overcome with emotion. As you adjust to him, his eyes trace your face, and he reads what’s there with perfect clarity.

“Love you, Sunny Baby,” he whispers into the crook of your neck.

You swallow against the thick rise of feelings and run your fingers through his hair. “Move for me,” you beg. And when he does, it’s just as perfect as the rest of him.

You press your forehead to his when you come, his thumb rough on your clit and his mouth gasping broken breaths against your lips, pulsing around him in waves so dizzying you think they trigger even more. His hair sticks to his forehead as he presses deep inside you, and he shelters you between mountainous arms as he finally lets go.

Mingyu is sunrise, leaking orange and pink and yellow and white and chasing away a world of purples and blues. He’s so bright you have to squint, a promise of a fresh start, an end to the darkness of night.

He’s perfect. He’s perfect, and you love him, and finally you can have him.

You lay in his arms, heartbeat slowing bit by bit, and feel wholly at peace - like everything finally settled into place, everything landed exactly as it was meant to. Your cog in the universe, spinning correctly at last, grooves fitted perfectly to Kim Mingyu’s.

The peace lasts…. until you check your phone.

[8:26am] (jeong)Han Solo: when you two are DONE…. we went out for breakfast if you want to join 🙄

—

November

“Baby,” Mingyu says, but it’s stern. “Quit fixing the pillows.”

“It has to be perfect in here!” you whine.

Mingyu wraps his arms around you like a cage, squeezing until you’re laughing too hard and drop the throw pillow from your hand.

“They lived with us for years,” he says, entirely too rationally. “You can’t fool them.”

He releases his hold on you so you can turn and pout at him. You’re about to protest - argue that it’s Jeonghan and Wonwoo’s first time visiting you and Mingyu’s new place, that this is momentous, a special occasion - but you’re cut off by an obnoxiously outlandish knock on the front door.

“I’ve got it,” Mingyu tells you. “You just try to relax.”

You will, in just a second. But first, you lean over to the candle you have burning on the coffee table and adjust it just slightly to center the label, which reads Fall Harvest and Cinnamon.

thank you so much for reading!!!!

#fic rec #mingyu #daechwitatamic #faves #f2l #angst #smut

570 notes · View notes