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ceilidho · 2 months ago

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Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 4 | masterlist

There’s nothing else to do but pretend it didn’t happen.

In the morning, you’re surprised to wake up and find him in the bed next to you, still covered in old sweat and dried cum. You suppose even in your sleep you’d unconsciously expected him to avoid the incident altogether—wake up extra early to shower while leaving you alone in the bed, giving you a modicum of privacy to digest the situation and its repercussions on your own.

He does no such thing.

“Morning, sweetheart,” John rumbles, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Feeling alright?”

Dangling precariously over the edge of oblivion. Some kind of abyss. The kind that says you might not like what’s down here, girlie, but still you sit by the edge and kick your feet.

“Yeah,” you croak, and Lord, your voice is hoarse. Scratchy and rough, like it’s been dragged over sandpaper.

“Good.” He lets his hand rest on the curve of your cheek for a second before pulling it away. “Why don’t you get cleaned up? I’ll shower after.”

The bed groans under his weight when he sits up, throwing his legs over the side before rising to his feet. You quickly avert your eyes at the sight of his naked backside, hairy there as well. A bear all over. Even his yawn reminds you of one. And the way that he stretches his arms overhead and every bone in his upper body cricks and cracks, the sounds of age manifold.

You scrub yourself with shaky hands in the shower, gnawing at your bottom lip when you spread your puffy folds to find his cum still slightly tacky inside of you. Very bad. Scooping as much out as you can with your fingers, watching it run down the drain. Very bad indeed.

John has breakfast on the table when you come downstairs and it seems, somehow, uncouth to just tell him you want to go home. So instead you force yourself to sit and eat, glad that he at least agrees that it isn’t the time for conversation.

At the door, he sees you off with a hug, watching you from the door until you reverse out of his driveway and drive off, waving as you leave.

“This is really bad,” you whisper to yourself on the drive home. “Really, really bad.”

Despite the morning after, the night you spent together is never explicitly spoken about. It’s not a ‘thing’ you discuss by any means. No sit down conversation, no awkward allusions to it, no talking around and around the events until the exchange becomes unbearable. It simply blips out of existence as soon as you change into your old clothes and John walks you to the door, seeing you out.

You still show up the next day, as usual. Nothing’s changed except everything, but it feels taboo to even mention that things feel different.

The world hasn’t radically changed since you accidentally slept with John, but it certainly feels that way sometimes. In the few delicate hours after leaving his house, you were sure he’d call at any moment to tell you that your services would no longer be required—that he’d send your last check in the mail before parting ways. So sure of that, in fact, that you’d put your phone on silent for hours before mustering up the courage to check your missed calls later that evening.

Only a few texts from friends. No missed calls from your employer.

He doesn’t fire you. He certainly doesn’t treat you any differently the next time you come to babysit. You still get paid every week—though, admittedly, the money makes you feel a little weird now after sleeping with him, but it’s not like you can just turn your nose up at making rent—and everything else in your life stays exactly the same. If you weren’t now acutely aware of the feeling of your boss coming inside you, you might even think you dreamt it up.

Still, despite John never bringing it up or even alluding to sleeping with you, there’s still a sense that he—

The soft, affectionate thanks, hun that he gives you when you bring him a glass of water on the rare day he comes home early to work out in the garage makes you shiver.

His need to touch increases tenfold, matched only by his proprietariness. He must feel like after what you did together, it’s nothing for him to squeeze your thighs when he tells you that you did a good job with the baby or hug you extra tight when you’re about to leave.

If you’re extra shy around him, he doesn’t remark on it.

You’re levelheaded enough to know that he shouldn’t be so touchy with his younger female employee—his babysitter no less—especially after what happened, but it’s not as though he treats you like sleeping with you is a given. When a week goes by and nothing happens, you almost relax. Almost. Enough to let your guard down.

But—

You can’t stop thinking about it though. It runs through your head every hour of every day, made worse by the fact that you see him six days a week, Sundays excluded. Sundays being your one day off, which you no longer look forward to but rather dread because Sundays mean no baby, no park, and no John Price.

So, you follow his lead and pretend like it didn’t happen.

You think it’s past you; a terrible mistake that’ll never happen again until it happens again.

Eight o’clock at night and the blue light from the television has begun to strain your eyes. Baby sleeping upstairs—you put him down a few hours earlier without much of a peep; had to check on him a few times, but otherwise the baby monitor sitting on the end table hasn’t so much as crackled, leaving you no choice but to doze off on the couch.

When the door opens, it startles you awake.

“Mr. Price?” you ask, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and clearing your throat.

John’s there when you twist around to peek over the back of the couch, filling out the door frame. Dishevelled after a long day’s work, his beard even more grown out than when he left earlier in the morning. A bit rougher around the edges, the day leaving its mark in the slight dark circles under his eyes and the set of his jaw, which only relaxes when he lays eyes on you.

“Just me, sweetheart.”

“Sorry, I…the baby’s been asleep for awhile, so I just thought I’d—”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I know you’ve got it under control.”

“Let me just get my stuff and I’ll be out of your hair—”

He cuts you off with a wave, toeing his boots off at the same time. “No, no, no—you stay there and finish your movie. I’m gonna grab a drink and join you.”

There’s not much more you can say to that. Instead, you watch him take his bag upstairs to put away in the bedroom before you hear the sink turn on. Running water.

You carefully avoid looking at him when John comes back downstairs, the creaking steps signalling his descent. He heads to the kitchen without stopping by the living room first. The light switches on with a click. The fridge door opens and bottles clinking together when he roots around for something to drink.

And then you hear him make his way back to the living room.

The unspoken pact to not bring up what happened the last time you spent any alone time together imbues you with a false sense of security. Part of you expects him to take the single recliner next to the couch, if only to put some distance between the two of you.

Except when he comes back into the living room, he plops right down in the middle of the couch like always, close enough to you that you’re forced to scoot away, pressed up against the arm of the sofa. You shiver when he cracks open his beer and takes a swig, resting his arm on the back of the couch with the can held in a loose grip.

“What’re we watching?” he asks, blatantly adjusting himself to get more comfortable on the couch. Even soft, the outline of his cock is visible through his trousers.

You stare over at him nervously, unblinking.

“Sweetheart?” John prompts when you don’t answer.

“Oh, um…” You clear your throat again. “It’s just a Hallmark movie.”

“Cute. Well, we can keep it on. No sense changing it now.”

It’s tense for a little while. You keep your hands folded in your lap like a good girl and your eyes on the television. So you can’t stop inhaling the heady scent of tobacco and vanilla. So you can’t stop blinking your eyes, each blink heavier than the last until they spend more time shut than open. So you yawn and burrow deeper into the cushions, your head tipping back and nearly jarring you awake when you lean too far and topple over the side.

When you lean the other way and start to doze off on his shoulder, he pulls you onto his lap. You squirm, initially resistant, but he shushes you before you can put up a fuss.

“Just don’t want you to drool on my shirt,” he teases in a low murmur, smoothing a hand down your side and then it’s lights out for you.

You wake to a blunt intrusion at your entrance. Half-awake and squirming, you vaguely feel him rub the tip of his cock up and down your pussy, teasing himself. The second you squirm just a little too much, he uses that little bit of movement to push the tip in. It pops in without much resistance; then the slow, methodical press inward, your walls squeezing around the thick length thrusting up into you.

“Wha—” you whimper, keening when a big hand glides up your chest to squeeze a tit, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

“S’alright, baby, it’s just me,” John murmurs, his voice right in your ear.

You come to gradually and then all at once, aware of your back pressed to his clothed chest and your legs spread around his, your ankles hooked around his calves. Skirt rolled up and panties pushed to the side, one of his arms locked around your waist like a seatbelt to hold you in place.

“John, I’m—we c-can’t do it again—”

“Sorry, honey,” he apologises into your neck, kissing the area he just spoke into. “Had to be inside you again. S’all I’ve been able to think about since you came on my cock the other night. Promise it’ll be easier this time, okay, baby?”

He guides you down his length until he bottoms out, slick lips kissing the base of his dick. The pressure is overwhelming; in your belly, in your throat, in your head. Heart beating a million miles a minute. Walls throbbing around his length, thicker and heavier than you remembered.

All you can think of now is the last time he had you like this, legs spread for him and pussy dripping wet. Taking his cock all sleepy and sweaty under his giant comforter, whimpering into his neck.

It’s not as frantic this time, no rush to the finish line. He seems to like just burying his cock in you while he plays with your breasts, pinching and plucking your nipples until they’re pebbled and sore. His hands aren’t particularly soft either, callused from years of hard labour. When you whine and try to push his hands away, he shushes you again, not paying your protests any mind.

“Fuck, these are pretty,” John praises, staring down at your tits from over your shoulder. “No, baby, jus’ watch your show. M’gonna use your pussy for a bit, okay?”

It’s just that it’s—

When he lets go of your breast to play with your clit instead, you melt, any resistance going up in flames. The heat fans over your cheeks, your eyelids too heavy to lift, vision blurring even when you try to focus.

He helps you grind your hips down on him, big hands like manacles on your waist. Little undulations of your hips. Short, shallow thrusts that keep you both right on the edge, drenching his lap with your juices. When he gets bored of playing with your clit, he switches back to your breasts, pawing at them and then bending down to suck a nipple into his mouth.

Any time you get distracted by what he’s doing, he stops, holding you down on his cock and coaxing you to focus on the television in front of you instead.

When he jiggles your clit, you seize up, heart hammering in your throat.

“Good girl, c’mon—jus’ like that.” John presses a hot kiss to your temple, arm tightening around your front to keep you close. Sweet talks you through your orgasm, all vaguely paternalistic and patronising in the best and worst way.

He makes you lean forward so he can bounce you on his dick after, your hands braced on his knees to keep yourself upright.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah—”

“Almost there, honey, jus’—fuck, perfect, yeah, tighten up like that. Good fuckin’ girl.”

He comes with a strangled moan, still cognizant enough to keep the volume down even if you can’t. Shuttles you down onto his cock a few more times until you’re filled to the brim with cum.

In the aftermath, he sits you back against his sweat-matted chest and pushes his cum back into your sore cunt with his fingers when it dribbles out. Ignores your wounded little sounds like they’re just background noise. He even makes you suck his fingers to clean them up, the digits coated in your combined juices.

“Best fuckin’ girl,” John growls, pressing another kiss to the side of your head. Your fingers twitch feebly in your lap.

Pretending like it didn’t happen after the second time around doesn’t seem wise, but still you don’t know how to broach the subject.

Especially since you know it’s going to happen again.

John doesn’t say it outright, but his actions speak for themselves. An arm looped around your waist casually in line for coffee. Paying for the two of you in any situation, you having your own source of income be damned.

“It’s my money anyway, sweetheart,” he says when you point that out. “Might as well just pay now.”

And doesn’t that just send you into a tizzy, head spinning and mouth agape. Embarrassingly so.

Not to mention you still have this strange, sycophantic need to please him, even after everything. The complicated nature of your relationship aside, it still makes your heart flutter to hear him praise you for anything.

That’s how you end up in his bed on a Saturday afternoon, taking a nap with him after a long day out in the sun. Two hours spent at the botanical gardens, the sun beating down on your head, lathering sunscreen on the baby’s sensitive little arms and legs, and swiping it over his cheeks. John sporting a mild sunburn near the collar of his shirt where he forgot to apply sunscreen and when you have the audacity to giggle, he pulls your baseball hat down over your eyes.

It’s almost too easy for him to coax you into his bed, even though you’re adamant about keeping it clean. A hand firm on your back up the stairs. Already yawning when you put the baby down for a nap, so why not take one too? Ushering you into the bedroom when you say you can take the couch, but why, he presses, take the couch when you’ve already shared the bed before?

Well, because the last time—

He draws the blinds shut and climbs into bed, pulling you into his chest.

You wake up to John plastered against your back, bare cock nudging against your cunt while he snores into your neck. You don’t remember him curling up next to you without any clothes on, but he must have taken off his pants in his sleep, now somewhere rumpled at the end of the bed.

When you try to quietly pull away, his arms just tighten around you more, grumbling in his sleep. The sound makes you freeze, going quiet as a mouse. A few more minutes go by before you feel confident enough to try moving again, carefully trying to slide out from his hold.

You wiggle a hand out, reaching for the other end of the bed.

The hand resting on your belly dips low, shoved between your legs and feeling you up before you can do more than gasp. The man behind you gives a short exhale, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep, rising out of it like a wave now that he feels something wet under his hand.

“Oh, honey…why didn’t you tell me you needed my cock again? You’re leaking right through your panties,” John rasps, dragging your underwear down to mid-thigh.

A big bear hand clamps over your mouth before you have a chance to protest. There’s nothing you can do to keep his knee from spreading your legs and feeding his cock into your drenched centre with his other hand. As soon as he notches the head against your entrance, it’s a smooth glide in.

“There we go,” he pants into your neck. “Big stretch—ah, yeah, nice ‘n tight. That’s my pretty girl.”

He keeps your legs spread with a hand on the inside of your thigh. All you can do is moan behind his hand, humid breath blowing back around your face as you pant. So hot for it that you’re almost nauseous.

You’re a bit too tight for him to fit his cock in you, so he has to work to stretch you out, bullying another inch into you with every thrust. The angle makes it tricky though; means he can’t get more than half of his cock into you. It’s hardly comfortable for you either, your leg already cramping.

“My leg’s got a cramp,” you whine, unsure of what you want to happen. All you know is that you can’t keep this up.

He readjusts his grip, but that just makes you hiss, wincing when that makes your leg twinge. Suddenly the world spins, the pillows going from comfortably under your head to right in your face, John manoeuvring you onto your tummy and hiking your hips up a few inches. It lets him get even deeper, the angle letting him slide right to the hilt.

“Oh god, oh god—John, I can’t—”

“Shh—you’re alright, honey. Much better like this,” he breathes, settling on top of you. It takes him a second to get comfortable, nudging right up against a sensitive spot inside of you the whole time, so deep you can almost feel him in your throat.

He weighs a ton on top of you, rutting between your thighs like he can’t hold himself back, his self-control snapping like brittle glass. Bristly beard chafing your neck when he buries his head to suck on the tender skin there, smothering you under his weight. Thighs trapping you in place, your memory jumping back to that time at the beach, but now there’s nothing between you. Just a thick cock pounding into you and moulding you around its shape.

His hips slap against your ass with every thrust, the lewdest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Gonna make sure it takes this time,” John grunts. “Wanna take care of my baby so bad? I’ll give you a couple to mind.”

That rattles you right to your core; shakes you to the foundations of who you are. You don’t know what to think, what to say—tongue tied and loose lipped all at once. You’ve let him come inside of you so many times that if it hasn’t taken already, surely it will soon.

It slips out before you can take it back. “D-daddy, please—”

That makes him lose his mind. Just a bit.

“Fuck,” he snarls. “Again.”

He wedges his arm under you to curl his hand around your throat, tilting your head out.

“Daddy—daddy—please, I wanna come—” you pant, repeating the same word until it sounds like nothing, tongue puffy in your mouth.

His dick slips out at some point and he wrenches himself off you long enough to wrap his hand around himself and slap it against your ass a few times, cum tagging your skin. Your breath catches in your throat, whining when you clench down on nothing. One stroke after repositioning himself and he’s all the way back in, hammering the spot that makes you go cross-eyed and squeak.

“Make daddy another baby, okay, sweetheart?” It’s not sweet. It’s not doting. It’s growled into your ear like a demand, punctuated by the way his hips snap forward, nearly sending you into the headboard.

You’re practically an old hat at taking his cum now, squeezing up when you can feel it coming and giving him a nice little treat. He sinks his teeth into the back of your neck when he does, muffling the sound roaring out of him, and it hurts.

He’s tender with you after though. Lavishes the line of your neck with soft kisses; murmurs sweet nothings into your ear while you cry fat tears onto the pillow. Even twists and turns so you’re no longer on your back but rather splayed across his chest again, urging you up for a deeper kiss with tongue.

“‘Know you’re tired, sweetie, but this is for your own good,” John murmurs as he wedges a hard thigh between your legs and makes you ride it, grinding your sensitive, throbbing clit down on the muscle. “Can you come, baby? Jus’ like that—that’s good, baby—”

It hurts so good that you don’t even notice when you squirt, the emotions too big for you. It’s like being squeezed too tight, unable to catch your breath or say anything but the same word on a loop. John’s sweet about it though—wipes the sweat from your hairline and upper lip, talking you through it until you slump down on his chest, legs akimbo.

For a bachelor, you think in a daze, he’d make a good husband.

The days grow colder and the sun sets earlier.

A while ago you thought maybe this babysitting gig would be temporary. That at some point you’d move on—maybe go back to school or apply for a more standard nine-to-five job. That’s how the trajectory of your life was supposed to go, you think.

But the timing never seems right. Maybe you’ve grown too attached to the baby or maybe the pay is just too good to give up or maybe you’ve just become habituated to someone getting you off at least every other day. Still, it feels a bit weird to get paid for what essentially boils down to fucking a man and taking care of his baby.

It comes up when you’re sitting out on the porch with him again, this time in his lap in the same adirondack chair, a blanket wrapped around you to keep you warm. John laces his fingers through yours, thumb stroking over your finger, burning a line into the skin.

“Doesn’t it make you feel weird to pay me for…” you say, trailing off with a cocked eyebrow. Surely he must catch your drift.

He chuckles. You wait for the joke.

Your eyes must be big as moons staring up at him.

“Don’t think of it as a paycheck, sweetheart. That’s your allowance.”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and swallow.

“Okay,” you whisper. Then let him reel you back in for another kiss, his thumb resting over your ring finger and pressing.

#ceil writing #cod x reader #price x reader #price/reader #price x you #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price x reader

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wanders-in-wonderland · 2 months ago

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Countdown

I startle awake and I find myself strapped down, on my knees, with my legs straddling a sybian and my arms tied tightly behind me. There are more ropes wrapped around my knees, keeping my body pressed firmly against the machine. I’m naked and I can feel the ridges of the machine pressed harshly against my bare core, the pressure forcing my clit to bear full contact against the smooth material of the machine.

My eyes dart around the room as I struggle uselessly against my bindings. The room is so dimly lit that I can hardly see a few feet in front of me.

“Help! Please! Someone help me!” I scream into the empty space, my voice filled with desperation and fear as the gravity of the situation hits me. Suddenly, as if in response to my plead, lights pierce through the darkness, illuminating everything to full brightness.

I gasp and instinctively squeeze my eyes shut, the sudden light a harsh assault to my senses. When my vision finally adjusts enough for me to look around again, I feel a surge of terror when I see the set up around me.

There are several cameras and microphones laid out surrounding me, clearly set up to get 360 coverage of me. Directly in front of me is a massive screen that show the live camera feeds and I feel a shiver of fear creep down my spine when I see how helpless and vulnerable I look, naked and strapped down. On the bottom half of the screen there’s a blinking red light with the words Livestream Disabled flashing. My stomach clenches when I realize that the live footage of me, tied up and naked like this, could be livestreamed to who knows how many people across the world.

Tears well up in my eyes as panic starts to settle in. I let out a soft sob, wanting nothing more than to curl into myself, away from everything around me. “Please, don’t do this! Please let me go!” My voice is choked with tears and fear as my futile struggles against the bindings are coldly captured by the cameras and my begging is met with absolute silence.

All of a sudden, the machine I’m straddling roars to life. I scream as my back instinctively arches to try to reduce some of the sensation with no effect. The ropes around my legs force my entire weight to sink onto the machine, pressing my pussy mercilessly against the now-vibrating sybian. The vibrations are steady and I feel them wash over me as my clit takes the brunt of it all.

I gasp as the sensation starts to build and my mind wrestles with the juxtaposition of fear and pleasure. The rumbling vibration of the machine is drawing out soft moans and whines from me as I feel the sensations mounting. I writhe as much as I can but there’s nothing I can do to slow the onslaught of pleasure that is very quickly overwhelming me. There’s nothing else in the space around me to distract me from what’s happening to my body, though I’m not sure there’s anything that could distract me right now.

I try my best to shift my weight to take some pressure off my clit but there’s no leverage for me to move my body. I let out a desperate whine as I feel myself getting closer and closer to cumming. My mind is scrambling as I’m trying to rationalize everything that is happening, being strapped to a machine and forcibly brought to an unwanted orgasm. I can’t hold back any longer and I feel my orgasm wash over me, my eyes fluttering shut as I my clit pulses and my pussy clenches. A moan escapes me as I writhe atop the machine, my hips grinding into the vibrations as my release tapers off.

The machine mercifully slows underneath me, the vibrations coming to a halt as I pant, trying to catch my breath and regain my bearings. When I glance up again at the screen, I feel a new wash of terror grip me as I register a few changes.

There’s a new line of text under where Livestream Disabled is written. It says Countdown to Livestream: 1 of 5. It takes me a moment before I register the meaning of the words: if I cum 5 times, the livestream turns on, showcasing my naked, shaking, cumming body to the entire world. I realize that whoever set up this cruel situation has every intention of forcing me to bend to their will so that I helplessly and reluctantly cum my way into putting on a show, my own body betraying me. I don’t have time to process any further before the sybian turns on again, this time at a much higher frequency.

A cry escapes from my lips and my body lurches as I desperately try to escape the stimulation. It’s too soon since my first orgasm and my clit is tingling with sensitivity. The machine doesn’t care as it relentlessly batters my body.

I’m trying to take deep breaths, to distract myself from the vibrations wracking my body. My clit feels hypersensitive and I silently beg my body to please, please don’t cum again.

I can feel myself getting closer and closer to a second orgasm and I’m doing everything in my power to hold it back. I’m determined to hold out, to not let this demented situation bend me to break. The pleasure makes me gasp and whine, my clit turning into a focal point of unadulterated ecstasy. The sound of my own ragged breathing fills the air as I’m drawing in desperate deep breaths to try to calm myself. It’s no match against the machine beneath me as it increases in intensity and I lose the shred of command I held over my body. A scream is wretched out of my throat as I cum.

The text on the screen changes in response: Countdown to Livestream: 2 of 5.

I let out a choked whine and I’m grasping at straws as I beg into the empty space, hoping, praying for a miracle to make this all stop. “Please,” my voice is shaking, “Please, help me. Make this stop, I’m begging you, please!” There’s no miraculous rescue in response to my pleading. This time, there’s not even a break between orgasms. The vibrations only kick up a notch, pulling a gasp from my lips.

“No, no, no, please! Please stop! I don’t want this!” I cry out, unable to stop myself from begging even when I know it’s useless. There’s no sympathy for me. I feel the horrible pleasure start to build again. My hands clench into fists and I dig my nails into my palms, gritting my teeth as I will my body to ignore the pleasure. It didn’t work earlier and it doesn’t work this time. My sheer will is no match against the machine bending my body to its wants. I shatter into a third orgasm, the pleasure rushing through me so intensely that I feel my head spin.

Countdown to Livestream: 3 of 5.

I jerk and struggle uselessly against my bindings. I feel the vibrations start to slow and I gasp in relief as my body comes down from the high it was forced into. There’s a growing feeling of despair as I realize I’m only two orgasms away from the livestream starting. And it doesn’t look like I have any hope to withstanding the pleasure to hold out for much longer. As if on cue, the machine restarts its vibrations.

The previous orgasms have pushed my body into overstimulation and my clit feels raw with pleasure but there’s nothing to give me a break. My pussy is drooling over the sybian, clenching and pulsing as pleasure makes me a slave. I’m being pushed higher and higher as I focus every measure of my mind to holding this orgasm back.

My teeth dig into my lip as I try to ground myself in the pain and my eyes are screwed shut. I teeter over the edge but out of sheer will, I hold myself back, begging my body to comply. For a moment, I manage to force my body to obey, curbing the pleasure. Then, the vibrations increase again.

I let out an anguished cry as the pleasure rushes through me, shattering all of my efforts at containing myself. I feel my cunt spray my release all over myself, my body locked in the throes of my orgasm. The sounds exploding out of me are a combination of pure pleasure and sheer torment.

Countdown to Livestream: 4 of 5.

I’m one orgasm away from the point of no return and the terror of being broadcasted to the world makes me want to cry. The vibrations pick up speed and there’s a sense of resigned acceptance that washes over me as my body obeys the machine and begins to inch towards my final release. But this time, it’s so much worse than I could’ve anticipated.

The sybian batters my body as it has with the past four orgasms. It expertly and unrelentingly drives me higher and higher in my pleasure, pulling moans and gasps out of me as it works. My body is barreling towards another all-encompassing orgasm when suddenly, all of the stimulation cuts off just as I’m about to cum. I let out a loud gasp as my body jerks in response to the loss of pleasure. I don’t understand. I was so fucking close and it all stopped. My eyes dart to the screen but there’s nothing there to explain what happened. The words Countdown to Livestream: 4 of 5 seem to taunt me.

My body slowly creeps back from the edge, my breathing stabilizing as the haze of pleasure slowly fades away. And then, the machine restarts. The vibrations are harsh and intense against my clit and I cry out as the previous pleasure suddenly slams back into me. Before long, I’m letting out gasping cries as my body once again is at the very precipice of pleasure. Again, it all stops. I can’t control the whine that slips out. I should be happy. Whatever is making the machine cut off at the very last second is obviously saving me from the livestream starting but the deep, primal, needy part of me wants to cry at the pleasure that’s being withheld from me.

The cycle continues when the machine restarts. At the very last moment, when just one more second of stimulation would push me over the edge, the machine stops. This time, I cry, hot and desperate tears falling down my cheeks.

I can’t even bring myself to care about the livestream anymore. I’m so fucking close, so desperate for the pleasure that I would sell my soul to cum. The last four orgasms do nothing to curb this insatiable desire that’s built up since the edging began and I’m mindless with need. My cunt is clenching around nothing, my clit throbbing in time to my heart beat but there’s nothing I can do to push myself over the edge. I feel my orgasm fading away and I let out a needy whine.

A few moments later, the sybian starts up again and a lewd moan slips from my mouth. My back arches as the pleasure washes over me, the previous edging driving me so close to the brink that even a few seconds of vibrations are enough to push me to the edge again. But again, the machine stops.

“Please! Please, I’m begging you, I need to cum. Please let me cum! Please, I need to cum.” My pleas didn’t work earlier when I was begging for the pleasure to stop and they certainly don’t work when I’m now pleading for an orgasm. It’s a cruel joke to make me such a slave to pleasure that I’m begging for my own demise.

The unrelenting cycle continues as the vibrations resume. There are incoherent babbles of desperation spilling from my lips as the pleasure mounts. Again, I’m held at the torturous edge as the machine plays my body like a familiar instrument.

Again, the vibrations cut off just as I’m about to cum. I scream. “Please! Please let me cum, just start the livestream, please, I just need to cum!”

It seems that I’ve said the magic words because the machine beneath me restarts with a fervor. I barely have time to draw a breath in when my orgasm slams full force into me. I shatter into unrelenting, all-encompassing pleasure as my cunt squirts out my release. Every single cell of my body is flooded with ecstasy and my consciousness shatters under the force of it all.

When I regain my senses again, I glance up at the screen and see the fated words reflecting back towards me: Livestream On, Countdown to Livestream: 5 of 5. I can’t bring myself to care when the machine underneath me increases its power and my eyes roll up as my overstimulated body is forced to react.

#nsft concept #overstim kink #dark fantasy #cnc overstim #cl1t torture #cnc k!nk #rap3 fantasy #edging kink #voyerurism #kidnap fantasy #cnc kidnapping #edging and denial #edge slvt #mind break

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twirlyleafs · 26 days ago

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Falling apart, together.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: part 2 to Falling apart, alone. Landos still struggling, but maybe he’s willing to accept the support?

TW: bad mental health

Notes: thank you so much for the response on the first part!! xx

~~~~

That night the house felt impossible quiet. P held you tightly for what felt like forever, her hands running soothingly up and down your back. The tension lingered in the air like an unwelcome guest. Max sat across from where you curled up against his girlfriend, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, face contorted in frustration. No one said anything for what felt like forever, each one of you too deep in your own spiraling minds, until the sound of movement in the kitchen cut through the silence. The following sound of the front door opening had all of you freeze, breaths caught in your throats. No one moved, not until the low rumble of the car engine filled the space. Your stomach sank as you heard the car pull out of the driveway, the sound growing fainter until it disappeared. With it Lando. You didn’t dare look up at P or Max, afraid that the emotions on their faces matched what you were feeling too. Pietra was the first to move, her grip on you loosening as she instead dragged her hand through your curls. Max sat stiffly, hands now clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

”Fuck.” Max muttered, voice thick. ”Fuck I- I should’ve stopped him. Should I have stopped him? From leaving?” At the anguish in his voice you lifted your head, pulling away slowly from Pietra. Max looked at you, searching for an answer, and you carefully shook your head.

“I don’t think that would’ve made it better.”

”If he wanted to leave he would’ve left anyway, maybe only more upset.” Pietra agreed and you nodded again. Max stared at the two of you for a moment before he nodded too. Once again silence settled between you. Eventually the weight of the evening became too much to bear and you forced yourselves to move, even though none of you really wanted. All of you paused in the hallway and Pietra wrapped you up in her arms, ensuring you everything would be okay, before she slipped into hers and Maxs shared bedroom. Max paused before following her, eyes lingering on you. Eventually he reached an arm out, snaking it over your shoulders and pulling you against his chest.

”We’ll get through to him. I promise.” The promise was nice but his voice was heavy with concern and guilt. ”I just, I’m glad I’m not alone this time. I’m glad he has you, too.”

The bed felt cold and almost foreign as you crawled in under the covers. The loneliness was bad on its own already but the faint trace of Landos scent on the pillow had your chest ache. Reaching for your phone you swallowed harshly, desperate to keep the pressing tears at bay to be able to see your screen clearly. You wrote out the text, hesitating for only a moment before hitting send. Seeing the text go through gave you a bit of relief and despite not expecting a response you at least knew you had done everything you could. After a final glance at the text you let out a deep breath, locking your phone before curling up on his pillow.

Be safe. I love you.

The night dragged on and with every passing moment you longed more and more for sleep, even though it felt very far away. You were alert, hearing the sound of the car coming back even before it pulled to a stop. Staying completely still, barely breathing, you listened to Lando opening and closing the front door. You curled tighter into yourself, straining to pick out every sound. He didn’t come upstairs right away, instead there was the faint creak of floorboards and the soft clink of something in the kitchen. Your mind started to race, what was he doing down there? Minutes dragged on, each one feeling longer than the other until suddenly, silence. The absence of sound made your chest tighten. Was he staying down there? You desperately wanted, needed, to see him. See that he was okay. But you were afraid you’d scare him away again if you went looking. Although, the thought of him sitting alone down with only his own mind as company had you want to cry again. Pressing your eyes shut you clutched the duvet. Just as you were starting to convince yourself that he wouldn’t come the softest creak of the bedroom door broke through the room. Your heart jumped, the lump in your throat growing, but you stayed completely still. You felt more than heard his movements, the mattress dipping gently under his weight as he sat down on the edge. Lando stayed there for a moment, sitting in complete silence as if he was preparing himself while you stayed with your back turned towards him. You knew he could tell you were awake but you didn’t dare say anything, involuntarily treating him like a scared animal. Finally he shifted, slipping in beneath the covers with careful and deliberate motions. Everything seemed to move in slowmotion and once again it felt like forever with nothing. Not a sound, not a move. Then suddenly you felt it. The softest touch of his fingertips against the back of your arm, so light you thought you might’ve imagined it if it wasn’t for the way your whole body shivered. The touch was tentative, making it clear he was just as scared as you were, but it was enough. It was an apology without words, a plea for comfort he couldn’t quite get out in words yet. You turned slowly, your gaze meeting his in the darkness. His eyes were red-rimmed, probably matching yours, and you could see the tension in his brows. Jaw. Shoulders. The vulnerability in his posture was unmistakable. Without another thought you reached out, carefully stroking a curl from his face. You could hear his breath hitch and for a few seconds you both stayed frozen until he finally let out a shaky breath. A moment later he was leaning in, his body curling against yours with a desperation that made your chest ache. Lando practically clung to you, and you did your best to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Keeping him safe. Your fingers found their way into his hair, threading through the soft curls, and his grip on you only tightened. As if he was afraid you might pull away.

”I’m not going anywhere baby.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, muffled against his skin, and you felt his uneven breath against your neck. He didn’t cry, but the tremor in his exhales told you enough. This wasn’t the strong, playful and confident Lando you were used to. This was the part of him he rarely showed, the part that felt small and lost. The part that desperately wanted help but couldn’t ask for it. As you pressed your lips to his temple you felt him sink deeper into your embrace, body slowly relaxing at least a bit. You didn’t speak more, didn’t need to. Instead you just held him, offering the safety you knew he needed. Offering to remove some of the weight he constantly put on his own shoulders. You didn’t need to fix him, you just needed to promise him he wouldn’t have to face anything alone. Ever.

—————————

You stirred awake to the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, pressing your eyes shut tighter. You didn’t want to wake up, not yet, the exhaustion from yesterday still lingering. Instinctively you reached for him, fingers only finding the coldness off the empty mattress and immediately making your stomach sink. He was gone. Turning around you laid there for a while, staring at the empty slot next to you where Lando had been. He had, right? He had come home in the middle of the night, you couldn’t have imagined the way he clung to you. Right? You took your time getting up, dragging yourself through the routines of the morning before slowly making your way downstairs. When you entered the kitchen Pietra and Max were already there. P sat at the kitchen bar, nursing her coffee, while Max leaned against the counter. Both their heads snapped up to look at you, concern and curiosity clear on their faces.

”Did you see him?” Max cut straight to the chase, obviously having heard as Lando came back in the middle of the night too. You nodded softly, accepted the cup he offered you. Staring down into it you sighed.

”Yeah. I didn’t think he would come to bed but he did. He-” you paused, feeling almost bad for spilling your intimate moment with Lando but also knowing Max needed the reassurance. He deserved to know, needed to know Lando was if not doing better at least not pushing you away as harshly. ”He let me hold him. We didn’t talk but-” you trailed off when you met Maxs gaze, a mixture of relief and sadness.

”Good. That’s good.”

”He’s out running now. I met him on his way out.” Pietra explained. You nodded but didn’t respond, the words lodging somewhere in your throat. Despite the nights small victory yesterday’s tension lingered in the air, heavy and almost suffocating, and none of you said anything else after that. Together you filtered out on the back porch, breakfast plates in hand, and settled into the soft lounge furniture. The view was beautiful, sunlight spilling over the hills beyond the garden, the distant sound of birds chirping, the water in the small pond glistening. It all felt somehow muted though. You picked at your food, mostly pushing it around on your plate. P occasionally shot you a glance, her lips pressed into a thin line as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it. The second Max was finished with his breakfast he’d wandered down towards the pond, saying something about needing some time alone, and was now sprawled out on the grass letting the sun warm his body. You felt for him. He’d been through this before, although not as bad as now, and you could see the toll it took on him to constantly worry about Lando. He’d been his protector for years, since they were kids, and you couldn’t be more grateful for him always sticking around. You were so deep in your thoughts you didn’t noticed the door sliding open, not realizing Lando was joining you until he slowly sank down in the couch opposite you. His hair was damp, probably fresh out of the shower, and curling in soft swirls over his forehead. You could tell he was nervous, uncomfortable, by the way he didn’t relax into the chair like he normally would. Instead his posture was stiff and uncertain as his eyes flickered between you and Pietra. P watched him for a moment before she stood.

”I’ll go and keep Max company.” Neither you nor Lando answered but you saw the way he tried to offer her a grateful smile when she passed him. P paused for just a second, letting her hand land on his shoulder before she disappeared down into the garden. The gesture was light, quick, but meaningful and you felt your heart swell at the sight. The warm feeling in your chest was brief, quickly replaced by a sense of worry again when Lando slowly met your gaze across the table. He shifted in his seat, fingers restlessly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. You didn’t push him. Finally he exhaled, voice quiet but clear as he spoke.

”I’m sorry.” You swallowed hard, letting the words settle between you before speaking up. Your own voice was soft, careful as not to frighten him.

”Do you want to talk about it?” He hesitated, fingers tightening around the fabric of his shorts as his eyes flickered away from your face for a moment. His jaw clenched and you almost feared he might retreat entirely, shutting down the conversation before it even began, but then he nodded.

”I don’t want to,” he admitted reluctantly. ”But I know I probably should.” You didn’t answer, giving him space to find his own words. He stared down at the coffee table for a moment, gaze distant, before he carefully began to speak again. ”It’s hard to explain, I guess. I feel like there’s this…pressure, all the time. Like I can’t stop, can’t slow down. If I do…” he trailed off, shaking his head is if he regretted his words. You shifted in your chair, letting your feet drop down on the floor so you could lean forward. Lando met your gaze again and you offered an encouraging nod. With a deep breath he continued. ”It’s, I guess it feels like I’m constantly running on a treadmill and no matter how fast I go it’s never enough. There’s always more to prove, more people to please, more to do. If I stop…” his voice cracked and he swallowed hard. ”If I stop everything will fall apart.” Your heart ached at the rawness of his confession, of the pain and fear on his face.

”You feel like you’re carrying everything on your own?” You offered gently, hoping to help him untangle his thoughts. Lando nodded slowly before shaking his head.

”Yeah, and I know that’s stupid because I know I have people…both at work and, you know. I have Max, mom and dad, you.” His voice softened at the last word, letting it linger for a moment. ”I know that but I can’t shake this feeling that I’m falling and that you can’t…” Once again he trailed of and you could tell he felt guilty, guilty for letting all off this spill. With a deep breath you pushed yourself up on your feet, Landos head immediately snapping up to watch you. For a second he looked scared, probably because he thought you were leaving, but then his face softened when you rounded the table to where he sat.

”Can I?” You asked quietly, nodding next to him in the couch. He nodded, trailing you as you sank down. When you reached out to lay a hand on his knee he quickly wrapped his own around it, squeezing it gently. Flipping your hand you let your fingers intertwine with his. ”Lando.” you began softly, watching him as he watched your hands. ”You don’t have to do this alone. I know it feels like everything is on you, and a lot is, but you don’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, not to fix anything but to help you deal with it. Especially when it gets too much.” Lando let out a shaky breath, shoulders slumping.

”I don’t know how to let go. I don’t- I’m not good at asking for help. And I don’t want to bring you down with this stuff, it’s-”

”Lando that’s where you’re thinking wrong. You don’t bring me down, or any of us. We want to help, to support you. That’s what you do with people you love, you help each other and you’re there for each other.” Finally he lifted his head, eyes glassy and filled with a vulnerability you wished he showed more often.

”I just don’t know how.” His voice was thick with emotion.

”That’s okay. You’re trying, and that’s more than enough for now. One step at a time.” You leaned closer to him, lifting your free hand to stroke some curls away from his forehead, fingers trailing down his cheek. Lando stared at you for a while and you could see the turmoil behind his eyes, fear and anxiety mixing with the urge to let you in. Finally you saw something shift, his face softened and he forced himself to nod slowly. It was small, but it felt monumental. A few moments later Lando sat leaned back in the couch, arms wrapped around your frame as you curled up against his chest. The silence settled around you again but it wasn’t suffocating like earlier. Now it felt hopeful, like some sort of new start. Landos fingers found your arm, tracing soft, aimless patterns. For him the touch was grounding, a way to anchor himself even when his thoughts were scattered. For you it was a constant reminder that he was still here, not completely shutting you out. When you finally spoke your voice was soft, almost tentative, but with a firmness born out of both love and concern.

”You know Max isn’t angry with you.” His fingers seized their movements and you heart ached when you heard him inhale sharply. Tilting your head slightly you could see his jaw tensing, but he didn’t respond. ”But I still think you owe him an apology. Not for being upset but…” you trailed off as Lando began to nod.

”For what I said. I know.” He exhaled, shifting to sit straighter while also not pulling away completely. His voice was low and strained, filled to the brim with regret. ”I’ve been feeling awful about it since it happened. I didn’t- I didn’t mean it. The words just came out before I could stop them and I- fuck.”

”I know you didn’t mean it. So does Max. But it still hurt him.” When Lando only nodded, his arms slipping from you so he could lean forward with his elbows on his knees, you sighed softly. Leaning forward you gently rested your hand on his back and when he didn’t pull away you moved to lean your cheek against it too. ”It’s not about blaming yourself Lando, it’s just about making it right. Max loves you, he wants to be there for you, you just have to meet him halfway. Like you’re trying with me.” He stayed quiet for a moment but didn’t pull away as your hand traced patterns along his back. Finally he spoke, still shaky but with more determination.

”Okay. Yeah.” For a while he stayed still, collecting his thoughts, and then with a deep breath he stood. You let him go, watching as he trudged down across the garden toward where Max was stretched out on a towel. Your eyes stayed fixed on them as Lando stopped by Max, saying something you couldn’t hear, shoulders hunched in vulnerability as Max sat up. A beat later Max nodded and got to his feet, the two of them trudging further down the lawn towards the small pond together. You barely noticed P come and sit down next to you, only reacting when she spoke up.

”What’s going on?”

”Lando is apologizing.” She just hummed, shuffling closer to you until your arms were touching. Then you just sat there, observing the two men by the pond. Lando’s head was slightly bowed, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, while Max stood with his arms crossed, listening intently. The conversation stretched on, and you could see the emotions flowing between them, the occasional nods, the way Max shifted his weight thoughtfully. Then, sudden enough for you to inhale sharply, Max reached out to grasp Lando’s shoulder firmly. A moment later Max pulled him into a hug and you thought you might start crying again as you watched Lando cling to his best friend. You tore your gaze away from them when you heard P sniff beside you, turning to look at her.

”They’ll be okay. We all will be.” She offered softly and for the first time in a while you felt relief flood your body. Nodding you felt your lips curl into the first real smile since before all of this.

”Yeah. We will.”

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msbigredmachine · 20 days ago

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The Boy Next Door: Chapter Six

MASTERLIST ✨ harmshake’s masterlist ✨ msbigredmachine’s masterlist

Word Count: 9k

TRIGGER WARNINGS: 18+, NSFW, language, angst, violence, smut

Ivy hadn’t realized how much space Roman took up in her life until she pulled away. A week of zero contact felt like forever, especially after they’d been practically inseparable before. Where his texts and calls once lit up her phone all day and made her smile, the same texts and calls…well, voicemails…were now grating, each one pleading and importunate and doing nothing to quell her current stance. She wasn’t sure if the distance was for his sake or hers, but after what she’d witnessed that day, it was absolutely necessary.

Every time she thought about Roman yelling at Zaia, the venom laced in his voice, it sent a chill up her spine. Sure, he had apologized—and was damn near begging since then—but the memory lingered like a bad taste. She couldn’t get past the fear she’d seen in her daughter’s eyes.

Zaia, funny enough, seemed to have already moved on. It helped that Roman was pretty much bombarding her with presents, the latest being a Little Mermaid (Halle) coloring set and a handwritten note that Ivy found in Zaia’s new Hello Kitty backpack:

“For the best little DJ I know.” Zaia had beamed when she read it, proudly showing Ivy the small charm bracelet he’d tucked into the package as part of his peace offering.

But Ivy wasn’t a six-year-old. Roman’s charm, his gifts, his apologies—they didn’t erase the cracks forming in her trust. She couldn’t shake the memory of his sharp tone, his anger. And, as much as she hated to admit it, there was something else. Something deeper, a gnawing unease she couldn’t quite name.

Saturday Afternoon

She was folding laundry in the living room when the doorbell rang. Duchess barked sharply, scampering to the door as Ivy set down Zaia’s unicorn-printed pajamas and sighed. She knew exactly who it was. Roman had texted her earlier, saying he wanted to stop by.

When she opened the door, there he stood, impossibly handsome in a fitted black T-shirt that clung to his broad chest and sweats that hung just right on his hips. His tribal tattoos spread from beneath his right sleeve, a tantalizing display of inked skin. In one hand, he held a large gift bag, and in the other, a bouquet of deep red roses.

“Hey, baby,” he said, his voice a smooth rumble as he flashed a tentative, almost nervous grin. “I come bearing gifts.”

Ivy crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “More, huh? You trying to bribe me?”

Roman chuckled. “Is it working?”

Rolling her eyes, she stepped aside for him. “Not yet.”

He grinned, closing the door behind him before following Ivy into the foyer. Duchess sniffed at his boots, her tail wagging, while Roman set the bag and flowers on the counter. ��This is for Zaia,” he said, pulling a small stuffed dolphin from the bag. “She mentioned how much she loved that sea animals documentary the other day. Thought she’d like this.”

Ivy softened slightly, her arms uncrossing. “At this point, you’re spoiling her,” she said.

Roman shrugged sheepishly. “Well, I do owe her. And these,” he held up the roses, “are for you. Not cuz I messed up—though I know I did—but because…I miss you. I miss us.”

His words hit a nerve. Ivy wanted to stay mad, to keep him at arm’s length, but the longing in his dark eyes tugged at her heart. She took the roses from him, inhaling their sweet scent.

“You ain't making this easy, you know,” she said quietly, setting the flowers in a vase.

“I don’t want it to be easy. I want it to be right.” Roman insisted, reaching into the gift bag before turning to her. “I got you one more thing…” He held a small box out to her, wrapped in elegant gold paper.

Ivy frowned but accepted it, unwrapping it carefully. Her eyes widened at the Tiffany & Co. packaging. She glanced up at him, gauging his hopeful expression, and then opened the box. Inside was a delicate gold necklace with a small heart pendant. It sparkled in the light, simple yet stunning.

“Roman…” she started, her voice trailing off.

“I hate this distance between us,” he implored, stepping closer. “I miss you, Ivy. I miss your smile, your laugh, the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “I miss your touch. Your hugs…your kisses.”

She swallowed hard, her emotions warring inside her. “Roman, I…I don’t know…”

“I understand why you’ve been staying away,” he said quickly. “I fucked up, baby, and I’ll spend as long as I need to, making it up to you. But I can’t stand being away from you like this. It’s killing me.”

He cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple shifting and his hand running over his mouth and gray beard. He then, reached for her hand, his touch warm and familiar. “Baby, I’m not perfect, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work. I swear to you. You and me—we’re amazing together. I need you, Ivy.”

Her resolve faltered. Damn him and his way with words. The sincerity in his tone, the way his thumb stroked her knuckles—it all chipped away at her defenses.

“I don’t know, Ro…” she started, but he didn’t let her finish.

“Come here,” he murmured, settling down in one of the foyer chairs and pulling her gently onto his lap. “Sit with me.”

“Roman,” she protested weakly, though she didn’t resist.

“Just for a minute,” he said, his arms circling around her slender waist as he looked up at her. “I've missed holding my baby. Let me hold you. Please.”

Ivy sighed, her body betraying her as she melted into him, growing even more traitorous as she absorbed the feel of his lips brushing her neck, then her jaw, and finally her mouth. The kiss was slow and consuming, pulling her under like a riptide. Her hands found the sides of his neck, gripping tightly as she kissed him back. His lips were soft yet insistent, his hands firm as they slid up her back to keep her close. She hated how good he felt, how easily he unraveled her. There was something about his kisses. They made her forget the world, made her forget him—the man who scared her, the man she doubted. In these moments, he was just Roman, the man who made her feel alive.

At last, they broke apart, but only just. Roman's big hands caressed her face, holding her as if he was afraid she’d disappear. “Tell me, Ivy,” he whispered, “Tell me you’ve missed me too.”

Her resolve wavered as she looked into his eyes. Damn it, she had. Despite everything, despite her doubts, he drew her in like a moth to a flame. Every damn time he touched her, kissed her, all her defenses crumbled. It was dangerous, but fuck did it feel good.

“I missed you too,” she admitted breathlessly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

His smile was slow, almost predatory. “I knew you did.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away, kissing him one more time before resting her head on his shoulder. For a moment, it felt like old times, like they hadn’t spent the last week avoiding each other. But then the doubts crept back in, nagging at the edges of her mind.

As if sensing her hesitation, Roman kissed her forehead and shifted the mood. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, his tone lighter. “We need to get away. You, me, and Zaia. Somewhere warm and sunny. How about Hawaii?”

Ivy sat up straight, blinking, caught off guard. “Hawaii?”

“Yeah,” he said, his enthusiasm growing. “You’ve been working so hard at the hospital lately, and I see how much you do for Zaia. You deserve a break. Both of you.” He trailed off as he rubbed her hip, his touch firm and persuasive. “Plus, we can really focus on us. No distractions. Just paradise.”

Ivy smiled faintly, but something about the way he was speaking—so eager, almost insistent—made her uneasy. “That does sound amazing,” she admitted, glancing over at Duchess, who was now laying in her kennel. “But it’s not that simple. Zaia’s school just started back up, and I have shifts scheduled. Plus, traveling with a six-year-old isn’t exactly relaxing.”

Roman waved her concerns away, his expression unwavering. “All of that can be worked out. I’ll take care of the arrangements. You deserve this, Ivy.” His voice lowered, more intimate now. “You’ve given so much to everyone else—Zaia, your patients—you need to give yourself a little grace.”

Ivy hesitated, torn between the allure of his words and the knot of unease tightening in her chest. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to get away—God knew she could use the break—but Roman’s urgency felt…off. Too perfect, too rehearsed.

She settled with a forced smile. “Let me think about it, okay?”

Roman’s expression flickered for a brief moment, a shadow in his eyes. But before he could respond, Zaia came bounding down the stairs, her eyes lighting up when she saw the big man in the foyer.

“Roman!” she squealed, running over to hug him.

He grinned, lifting her onto his lap alongside Ivy. “Hey, little lady. Look what I brought you.”

As Zaia tore into the gift bag, Ivy watched Roman out of the corner of her eye. He was attentive, affectionate, the perfect picture of a doting boyfriend and even a possible stepfather.

But deep down, Ivy couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Something about Roman wasn’t adding up anymore. And until she figured out what it was, she couldn’t let her guard down—not completely.

Sunday Afternoon

Her bedroom was dim, save for the slivers of sunlight that slipped through the blinds, casting long streaks across the walls. A faint hint of lavender clung to the air from the candle Ivy had lit earlier, now reduced to a hardened pool of wax on the nightstand. The room was warm, and would have been quiet had it not been for the bed rocking beneath the moving bodies, heavy breaths mixing in the silence. The rhythmic creak of the bed, their moans and gasps, filled the space, escalating until she collapsed on top of him, their bodies trembling from the intensity of it all.

It had started innocently enough—a nice Sunday lunch on her day off, opting to extend an invitation to Roman to ensure he wasn’t alone…or so she told herself. There had been the familiar, easy chatter between her and Roman, Zaia’s laughter echoing as they set the table together, their bodies just inches away from each other, close but not too close as they sat side by side. But as time ticked by, the tension began to shift. By the time she tucked Zaia in for her afternoon nap, it was sizzling. Roman’s gaze had deepened, his touch lingered a little longer, and before she knew it, he was in her bed again.

A blur of sensations—long fingers, warm skin, the heat of his body overwhelming hers. Roman had been tender but forceful, his touch demanding in a way that sent electric currents surging through her veins. The feeling of him inside her had been comforting, intoxicating, and sorely missed, and when she had begged him—moaned for him—it was as if she had lost control completely, her body responding to him in ways she couldn’t explain.

An hour later, her bare body pressed against his solid, warm frame. His muscled arm draped lazily over her, his fingers tracing absent patterns on her butt cheek. The steady beat of his heart was a reminder that, for now, they were both here, tangled in the aftermath of what had just happened.

“I’ve been thinking,” Roman said suddenly, his baritone voice breaking the stillness.

Ivy turned her head, her curls brushing against his chest. She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “Thinking? That sounds dangerous. About what?”

He huffed a soft laugh, his fingers pausing their motion before resuming. “About us. About you…and Zaia.” His tone softened, dipping into something vulnerable. “You two are the best thing that’s happened to me since I moved here.”

Her chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in them catching her off guard. She wasn’t sure what to say, so she stayed silent, her fingers sliding idly along his tattooed forearm, encouraging him to continue.

His dark eyes gleamed in the low light, his expression open yet serious. “You know I don’t have any kids of my own. Elesha and I never got to…” he trailed off, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “Being around you and Zaia…it’s made me realize how much I want that again. Marriage. A family, a real one. With you.”

Ivy’s breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as her eyes searched his. “Ro…”

“I mean it,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered on her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin. “Watching you with Zaia always warms my heart. You’re an amazing mom, baby. And I can’t stop thinking about how incredible it would be to give her a little brother or sister. To give us that.”

His words landed with the weight of a tidal wave, equal parts intoxicating and overwhelming. For a moment, Ivy could almost see the life he described: the happy, chaotic mornings, the sound of children’s laughter filling the house, Roman’s strong arms wrapping around her as they watched their family grow.

But then reality crashed back in. The nagging memory came rushing in again; of Roman’s voice raised in anger at Zaia, the way he’d lost control, even if just for a moment. He’d been trying to be much better since then, but Ivy couldn’t help wondering—what if it happened again? What if this perfect vision cracked under the pressure of another child?

Her gaze dropped, her stomach twisting. “Roman, that’s…that’s a lot to think about,” she said carefully, her tone hesitant. “I mean, I love what we have, but I don’t know if I’m ready for another child. Zaia’s still young, and—”

He cut her off gently, his fingers tilting her chin back toward him. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a soothing whisper. “I’m not saying it has to happen tomorrow. I just…I want you to know how serious I am about us. About you.”

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, torn between the warmth of his words and the unease curling at the edges of her mind. She was in love with him—she knew she was—but something inside her held back, a quiet voice whispering caution.

“I get it, baby. But let’s…let’s take things a little slower,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “Okay? We still have time.”

Roman’s smile faltered for the briefest moment, but he recovered quickly, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. “Fair enough,” he said, though his tone carried an undercurrent she couldn’t quite place.

Ivy tried to lighten the mood, needing to shake the weight of the conversation. “So,” she said, running her fingers along his forearm, “have you thought about having a housewarming party?”

Roman tensed slightly, the flicker of apprehension in his eyes so quick she almost missed it. “A housewarming party?”

“Yeah,” she said casually, though her curiosity was piqued by his reaction. “You’ve met more people since Gemini’s party. It might be nice to invite them to yours. I remember how fun it was when mine happened. You’ve made some friends, right?”

He shrugged, his hand resuming its idle strokes on her hip. “I don’t know, Ivy. I’m not really comfortable with people coming over just yet.”

“For real?” she pressed, her tone light but probing. “I haven’t even met your work colleagues yet. Or seen your office, come to think of it.”

Roman stiffened, his jaw tightening. “Nah, not happening,” he said, his voice sharper than intended, but quickly added, “I mean, the office is a mess—renovations, chaos everywhere. Besides,” he said, his tone softening as he ran a hand down her back, “I like keeping my personal space… personal.”

The words landed heavily, and Ivy blinked, her hand freezing mid-stroke along his chest. Confusion flickered across her face before it hardened into something sharper. “Wow,” she said slowly, her voice laced with quiet frustration. She rolled off him, sat up and crossed her arms. “So, what? You don’t want me in your space? After everything I’ve shared with you?”

Roman hesitated, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s not that,” he said, his tone smooth but guarded. “It’s just…I like things a certain way. My space is where I clear my head. You get that, right?”

“No, Roman,” she said, her voice firm but tinged with hurt. “I don’t get it. It feels like you’re shutting me out.”

Roman’s jaw clenched, his fingers curling into the sheet beneath them. “It’s not about you, Ivy,” he said softly, though the tightness in his voice betrayed his frustration. “It’s just…I need to keep some things separate. Trust me, okay?”

Ivy let out a bitter laugh, pulling away from him slightly. “Trust you,” she repeated, her voice cold. “Funny how that’s getting harder to do.”

Roman sat up slightly, the tension in his broad shoulders undeniable. “Baby, wait,” he said, his voice softening. When she didn’t respond, he reached out, his hand brushing hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “Right.”

He sighed, running a hand through his long, loose hair. “I’m just…tired. Work’s been a lot lately. Stress piling up. You know how it is, Miss Assistant Head Nurse.”

Ivy studied his face, searching for answers he clearly wasn’t willing to give. She’d learned that despite his openness, Roman was a man of walls—carefully constructed barriers that he rarely let her peek behind. The storage room in his basement came to mind, a fitting example of his tendency to shut things away. When she’d asked about it, he’d claimed it was just filled with his late wife’s belongings. The curt manner in which he’d also dismissed the topic had made it clear there was no room for discussion. It saddened her that he wasn’t opening up to her as much as she was to him.

Still, she knew when to back off. She wasn’t the type to push too hard—at least not with such a fresh wound, pun intended. Despite the faint unease curling in her chest, she let the subject drop. There were battles to be fought another day.

“I get it,” she said softly, her lips curving into a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Work can be crazy sometimes. Just…don’t let it get to you too much, okay? Stress has a way of eating people alive if you let it. It got both my parents. I don’t want the same to happen to you.” Her hand found its way to his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm grounding her. She watched as his eyes fluttered shut at her touch, his shoulders easing just slightly, the weight of her presence momentarily lightening his burden, it seemed.

“I…I want you to know you can talk to me, Roman,” she whispered now, as though she feared scaring him off. “About anything. Alright?”

Roman’s eyes opened, but they weren’t clear—they were shadowed, distant, as if he were looking somewhere she couldn’t see. Something lurked behind them, an emotion she couldn’t quite name. For a long, silent moment, he just stared at her, his full lips pressing into a thin line.

Finally, he exhaled, his voice low and heavy. “I’ll try.”

The words felt like a fragile bridge, half-built but still offering the promise of something more. Ivy patted his chest gently, nodding, even though her heart ached with the knowledge that there were still so many walls he wasn’t ready to let down.

As she started to pull away, his arms tightened around her, the hold both firm and tender. His gaze softened, filled with a yearning that sent her pulse racing. Then, his lips met hers, and the kiss wasn’t just passionate—it was a silent apology, a plea for her forgiveness. She allowed it, savoring the moment for what felt like an eternity. By the time he pulled back, just slightly, she was breathless, her anger reduced to embers.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a great kisser?” he teased, his voice low, his eyes burning with intent.

Ivy’s lips twitched despite herself, the teasing jab disarming her slightly. “Don’t try to charm your way out of this,” she warned, though her tone was less icy now.

“Charm’s all I’ve got,” he said with a smirk, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

Ivy exhaled shakily, her eyes searching his, the tension between them dissolving in the heat of the moment. She sighed, rolling her eyes but not pulling away. “You make it hard to stay mad at your ass, you know that?”

Roman smirked, brushing his nose against hers. “That’s the idea.”

Ivy giggled. “You’re exhausting.”

“In bed? Hell yeah,” he murmured against her skin, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine.

Ivy shook her head, smiling faintly despite herself. “You’re lucky you can fuck, Reigns.”

Roman grinned evilly, tugging her back on top of him as he crushed his lips to hers, sealing the moment with a deep, hungry kiss that spoke volumes more than his words ever could.

Ivy paced her living room, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet as her thoughts spiraled out of control. It had been two weeks since she’d last heard from Gemini. Two long, agonizing weeks of silence. Even when they fought, they never went this long without talking. But now? There was nothing—no calls, no texts, not even a passive-aggressive email. The memory of their last argument kept replaying in Ivy’s mind like a broken record: Gemini’s sharp words, the tension overwhelmingly thick, and their meeting after that, with Ivy storming out of Gemini’s office without looking back. It was petty, childish even, but neither of them had made a move to fix it. And it didn’t sit right with her.

The pit in Ivy’s stomach grew heavier by the hour, the silence suffocating. She tried to distract herself—organizing Zaia’s schoolwork, tidying up her kitchen, even re-watching an old favorite movie. But nothing worked. The nagging thoughts wouldn’t let up.

So, she grabbed her keys. She couldn’t ignore the gnawing worry any longer. Sliding into her Kia Carnival, she drove through the quiet streets of their neighborhood, the familiar route to Gemini’s house offering little comfort.

Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she pulled up to the Beaufort mansion. The porch light was off, and the curtains were drawn, giving the place a hollow, almost abandoned feel.

Ivy stepped onto the porch, her breath hitching as she reached for the potted fern by the door. She found the spare key exactly where Gemini had always kept it, hidden under the dark green leaves. Her hand trembled as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The house was eerily still, the kind of quiet that made the hairs on the back of Ivy’s neck stand up. The faint scent of lavender hung in the air, but there was something else, too—a faint metallic tang she couldn’t quite place.

“Gem?” Ivy called out, her voice breaking the silence. It sounded small, fragile, like she was afraid of what might answer.

There was no response.

Ivy moved cautiously through the house, her eyes scanning every detail. The living room was untouched, the pillows perfectly arranged on the couch. The kitchen was eerily spotless, the countertops gleaming as if freshly wiped down. A wave of unease rolled over her. Gemini was a lawyer, but even she was never this meticulous, not unless she was trying to make an impression.

Heart pounding, Ivy made her way upstairs, her footsteps muffled on the carpeted stairs. When she pushed open the door to Gemini’s bedroom, her breath caught. The unmade bed was the first thing that stood out, the sheets tangled in a way that was so unlike Gemini, who prided herself on a pristine home. A faint breeze fluttered the curtains, but the windows were shut, amplifying the strange stillness.

And then she saw it: a piece of paper on the nightstand, folded neatly, waiting.

Ivy froze, dread tightening in her chest. Her feet felt like lead as she crossed the room and reached for the note. It was typed, the words precise and cold. Her eyes darted to the signature at the bottom—it was Gemini’s, unmistakable. But as she read the letter, the words felt alien.

I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry to everyone I’ve hurt. I just want the pain to stop.

To my dear Ivy,

I’m sorry I pushed you away. I will miss you the most.

“What the fuck!” Ivy whispered. Her knees buckled, and she sank onto the edge of the bed, tears spilling down her cheeks. “No, no, no…”

The sobs came hard and fast, her chest heaving as she clutched the letter like it might disappear. She couldn’t bring herself to read all of it because it didn’t feel real. Gemini had always been the strong one, the vibrant one. She was the one who dragged Ivy out of her darkest moments, who never let her give up no matter how hard life got. And now? Now she was gone.

But something didn’t add up. The thought clawed its way through Ivy’s grief. If Gemini had written this note, where was she? The house was empty, devoid of any sign of her presence. There were no personal items packed, no indication of where she might have gone. It was as if she had simply vanished.

“Where are you, Gem?” Ivy whispered, staring at the bed as if it might hold the answers. Her mind raced with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. Was Gemini even alive?

The weight of that question bore down on her, suffocating her as she sat in the silence of her best friend’s room, the unanswered questions echoing louder than any scream.

She hadn’t even realized she’d driven to Roman’s house until she was there, her heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the quiet sounds of the neighborhood. Ivy stood trembling on his doorstep, clutching Gemini’s note in one hand and Duchess in the other. The puppy whined softly, nuzzling against Ivy’s neck as though trying to absorb her pain. Thank goodness Zaia was at her friend's house and unable to see her mother's distraught state.

When Roman opened the door, his concerned expression immediately softened into something more tender at the sight of her tear-streaked face. But before he could speak, Ivy blurted, “I need your help. I need to find her!”

Roman’s brows furrowed, and he stepped closer. “Baby, what’s going on? Who are we looking for?”

“Gemini,” she stammered, her voice breaking as her body trembled. “She’s gone, Roman. I went to her place…She left this note but she’s not there and I don’t know where she is. I have to find her!”

Roman’s jaw tightened, his features hardening for a split second before he schooled his face into a mask of calm. He reached out, cupping her face with both hands. “Baby, slow down. You’re shaking. Come here.”

Ivy allowed herself to be pulled into his arms, Duchess squirming slightly between them. Roman’s embrace was warm and steady, but Ivy could feel the weight of his silence pressing down on her. She clung to him for a moment, trying to gather her spiraling thoughts, before pulling back to look up at him.

“She’s out there somewhere,” she said, her voice shaking. “She sounded so lost in the note, but this don’t feel right. Roman, I need you to help me find her. Please.”

Roman sighed, his hands sliding to her shoulders. “Baby, let’s not jump to conclusions. Maybe she just needed some space. People do that sometimes.”

“No!” Ivy insisted, shaking her head. “Not Gem. She wouldn’t leave like this, not without saying goodbye properly. And the note—it doesn’t make sense.” Her grip on Duchess tightened as tears welled in her eyes again. “I feel like something’s wrong, Roman. Please, we have to go look for her.”

Roman stared at her for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. He led her into the house and shut the door. “Baby girl,” he said softly, his voice calm but firm, “you’ve been through a lot. You’re exhausted, and I think that’s making this feel worse than it is. Let’s take a minute, sit down, and go over everything together.”

Ivy shook her head, stepping back from him. “We don’t have time to sit around, Roman! She could be in trouble. She could be—” Her voice cracked, and she pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.

Roman reached for her again, his large hands cradling her shoulders. “Baby, listen to me. I get that you’re worried, but running out into the night without a plan isn’t going to help. Let me take care of you first, okay? You need to breathe.”

“I don’t need to breathe!” Ivy snapped, her desperation boiling over. “I need to find my friend! Are you gonna help me or not?”

Roman’s jaw clenched, his grip on her tightening briefly before he let out a measured breath. “Of course I’ll help you, baby,” he said, his tone soft but deliberate. “I’d do anything for you. But we need to think this through. Let me make you some tea, and we’ll figure out the best way to look for her.”

Ivy hesitated, her tears streaking her face as she searched his expression for reassurance. “You promise?” she whispered, her voice small.

Roman leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I promise, baby girl. I’m here for you. Always.” He stepped back, his hand on her shoulder. “Come on,” he said gently, guiding her toward the kitchen. “You need to sit down. Let’s figure this out together.”

Ivy followed him numbly, her legs moving on autopilot as her thoughts churned. She clutched Duchess tightly, the dog’s soft whimpers a faint reminder of her reality. When they reached the kitchen, Roman pulled out a chair for her, the scrape of wood against tile sounding too loud in the stillness.

“Sit,” he urged, his voice steady but insistent.

She sank into the chair, her hands trembling as she smoothed Duchess’s fur. The note burned in her mind, its shaky words etched into her memory. It was so unlike Gemini—strong, vibrant Gemini��to write something so hopeless.

Roman leaned against the counter, his dark eyes studying her intently. His arms crossed over his chest, and the stark black of his tattoos seemed even more pronounced under the harsh kitchen light.

“What did the note say?” he asked, his tone calm but probing.

Ivy swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper as she replied, “She said she couldn’t take it anymore. That she felt lost and alone. And…she said she was sorry for pushing me away.” Her throat tightened, and fresh tears spilled over.

Roman held out his hand. “Let me see it.”

She handed him the crumpled note, watching his face closely as he read it. His expression darkened subtly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he looked up. “And you found this where?”

“On her nightstand,” Ivy said, her voice shaky. “But she’s not there, Roman. Her car’s gone, and she’s just… vanished. It doesn’t make sense. She wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t leave me like this.”

Roman frowned, his jaw tightening for a brief moment before his face softened again. “Maybe she…didn’t want to do it at home,” he suggested cautiously. “She might’ve gone somewhere private.”

“No!” Ivy’s voice rose, her frustration spilling over. “That’s not her! She wouldn’t just leave a note like that and disappear. Something’s wrong, Roman. I can feel it.”

Roman sighed heavily and stood in front of her, his large hands resting on her thighs. His dark eyes met hers with an intensity that made her stomach twist.

“Ivy,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing. “You’ve been through so much lately—Angelo, Zaia, work—and now this. You’re overwhelmed, baby. Your mind is running in circles, and it’s making you see things that aren’t there. Let me take care of you tonight. You need to rest.”

Ivy blinked, her resolve faltering under his steady gaze. Was she overreacting? Was her grief clouding her judgment?

“But—” she began, only to have him interrupt.

“No ‘buts,’” Roman said firmly. His hands squeezed her thighs gently before he stepped back. “We’ll figure it out, but you need to trust me. I’ll take care of you, okay?”

The reassurance in his tone eased some of the tension in her chest, though unease still lingered at the edges. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Roman’s lips curved into a faint smile. He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against her forehead. “Good girl. I’ll make us some tea,” he said, turning toward the stove.

Ivy watched him move, her mind still racing despite his calming words. Something about the way he had responded—too measured, too controlled—didn’t sit right. She wanted to shake the thought away, and blame her exhaustion and grief. But she couldn’t.

Something was not right. No matter what Roman said, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Gemini’s disappearance than the note suggested. And deep down, a tiny voice whispered a warning that she wasn’t ready to hear it.

Her gaze drifted aimlessly around the kitchen, desperate for a distraction from her spiraling thoughts. That’s when she saw it, tucked into a shadowy corner near the pantry: a vibrant tan-colored Prada tote bag.

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was Gemini’s—her favorite bag, the one she saved for special occasions and treated like it was made of gold. Ivy’s pulse quickened, her fingers freezing mid-stroke on Duchess’s fur. Why was it here? Gemini never let that bag out of her sight. Panic surged through Ivy’s chest, an icy flood that made her stomach churn.

Setting her puppy gently on the floor, Ivy’s feet moved almost on their own, carrying her to the bag. Her fingers hovered over it for a moment before grasping the worn leather strap. She turned it over in her hands, her heart sinking as her eyes landed on the unmistakable ‘G’ charm dangling from the zipper—Gemini’s signature touch. There was no doubt now. This was her best friend’s bag, here in Roman’s kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

His deep voice startled her, sharp and sudden, cutting through the tense air. Ivy jumped, clutching the bag tighter as she spun to face him. His towering frame loomed in the doorway, his expression dark and unreadable.

“This is Gemini’s bag. Why do you have it? Why is it here?” she demanded, her voice shaking. Her wide, tear-streaked eyes locked onto his, searching for an explanation, but the dark, unreadable look that flickered across his face sent a chill down her spine.

The mask of charm finally slipped. “Ivy…listen to me...”

But Ivy wasn’t listening. Her hands shook as she unzipped the bag and rifled through it, pulling out the contents one by one. There were several printouts of news articles of missing persons, Rhea and Bianca among them. One particular photo made her stomach drop into the void as she laid eyes on it.

Roman’s mugshot.

“What the hell is this?” Ivy’s voice cracked as she held it up, the other documents in her other hand.

Roman took a step toward her. “Ivy, calm down.”

She ignored him, her hands trembling as she stared at one of the headlines:

Mateo Hobbs Wanted in Connection with Multiple Murders in Florida.

The image was unmistakable—Roman, though his hair was shorter, and his beard less full. Ivy’s stomach turned, the bile threatening climbing up her throat.

“What is this?” she demanded, her voice shaking. “Who the hell are you?”

Roman’s face darkened, his jaw tightening as though he were physically restraining himself from reacting. “Baby,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “I can explain—”

“Explain?!” Ivy’s voice rang out, sharp and filled with betrayal.

“Ivy—”

She threw the papers at him. “Tell me that’s not you! Tell me that’s not your face! You can’t, can you?”

Roman took a deliberate step toward her, his large frame cutting an imposing figure in the dim kitchen light. His large hands were raised in what he probably thought was a placating gesture, but to Ivy, it was nothing more than a threat. She backed away, her movements jerky and panicked. Duchess, standing protectively at her feet, growled low and steady, the sound vibrating through the tense air.

“Baby,” Roman said, his voice soft yet firm, as if he were speaking to a child on the verge of a tantrum. “Calm down. Let’s talk about this.”

“I let you into my house! You held my child!” she yelled, her chest heaving as her mind raced to comprehend the horrifying truth. Her voice cracked under the weight of her disbelief. “Oh my god…you and me, we…” Hot tears welled in her eyes, sick to her stomach.

“Ivy,” Roman repeated, more hostile now. “You don’t understand. Come here and let’s talk—”

“No!” Her scream was shrill, laced with fear and fury. Her hands fumbled blindly behind her as she searched for something—anything—to defend herself. Her fingers brushed against cold steel, and she wrapped them around the handle of a kitchen knife, holding it out in front of her with shaking hands.

“Stay away from me!” she yelled, the blade trembling as she brandished it. Duchess barked furiously now, the sound filling the space as she bared her teeth at Roman.

Roman’s expression flickered with anger, frustration, perhaps—but he didn’t stop. Instead, he took another step forward, his gaze fixed on Ivy.

“Put the knife down,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, commanding tone. “You don’t wanna do this, Ivy. Just listen to me.”

“Don’t come any closer or I’ll stab you!” she shrieked, her grip tightening on the knife even as her hands shook violently. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, her heart pounding so loudly she could barely hear her own thoughts. “I mean it, I’ll-”

Roman lunged.

The world blurred into chaos as she swung the knife wildly, her instincts overtaking her terror. Their bodies collided, and the knife clattered to the floor with a metallic clang. Roman’s strength was overwhelming, his grip on her arms like iron as he wrestled her to the ground.

With a loud bark, Duchess launched herself at Roman, her teeth snapping dangerously close to his leg, but he kicked her away with brutal precision. The yelp that came from the dog sent a fresh wave of panic through Ivy’s chest.

“Duchess!” she screamed, her voice breaking as she thrashed against Roman’s hold.

“Stop fighting me!” he growled, his voice no longer calm or coaxing but sharp and commanding.

Ivy’s nails clawed at his arms, her legs kicking wildly as she tried to free herself, but Roman was too strong. He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head as her screams echoed through the kitchen.

“Let me go!” she cried, tears streaming down her face as she bucked beneath him, her energy rapidly depleting.

Roman’s face was inches from hers now, his breath hot against her skin. His eyes were dark, swirling with a mix of frustration and something far more dangerous.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ivy!” he said through gritted teeth, but the menace in his tone betrayed the words.

Ivy let out one last desperate scream, thrashing with so much force that her head struck the floor hard. Pain blossomed at the back of her skull, sharp and blinding, her vision tunneling before the world around her faded to black.

Roman sat back on his knees, breathing heavily as he stared down at her limp form. His jaw twitched, and he ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to go,” he said, his words low and tinged with frustration. He stood, lifting Ivy’s unconscious body effortlessly into his arms. Duchess growled weakly from where she lay near the corner, her movements sluggish. Roman didn’t spare the dog another glance as he carried Ivy toward the basement door, disappearing into the shadows below.

When Ivy woke, her head throbbed viciously and her vision swam with disjointed shapes. The cold concrete floor beneath her sent a chill through her body, seeping into her bones. She blinked, trying to piece together where she was and how she’d gotten there. The dim, artificial light cast long, eerie shadows across the space, and the faint, sharp scent of bleach stung her nose. But there was something else—something foul, sour, and unmistakably metallic.

Blood.

Her stomach lurched as she inhaled sharply, the nauseating scent overwhelming her senses. Ivy’s pulse raced as fragments of her memory returned.

Roman.

His shift in tone. The confrontation. And then… darkness.

Her heart pounded harder as she pushed herself onto shaky feet, her legs wobbling beneath her. She instinctively reached for the back of her head, feeling the tender knot where she must’ve been struck.

“This can’t be happening,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling and barely audible over the oppressive silence.

The room came into focus slowly—a basement, cold and sterile, with pristine white walls that somehow felt wrong in this suffocating space. A basement that didn’t belong to her.

Roman’s.

The realization hit her like a jolt of electricity, and her breath hitched. She spun toward the only door, but it was locked. Of course, it was locked. She pressed her ear to it and froze as she heard faint, deliberate footsteps above her. He was there.

Ivy backed away from the door, her movements frantic. Her chest heaved as panic clawed at her throat. She scanned the room for any means of escape. But nothing. The basement was immaculate, eerily so, with nothing out of place except for a large barrel in the corner. No ropes. No gags. No tools. Nothing that looked like it belonged to his wife, as he’d claimed. Just her, the empty space, and the deafening sound of her own breathing.

And then she saw it.

A trapdoor, set inconspicuously into the concrete floor.

Her stomach twisted, a war raging inside her between dread and desperate hope. Could it be a way out? Or was it something worse—something she didn’t want to face?

Ivy hesitated, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure Roman could hear it from upstairs. She had to move. Had to act. The door wasn’t an option, and she couldn’t stay here waiting for him to come back.

Swallowing her fear, she crept toward the trapdoor, her breath shallow and ragged. Her hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the wood, the rough surface digging into her palms. She hesitated, every instinct in her body screaming at her to stop, to leave it closed. But her desperation overpowered her fear.

The wood creaked as she lifted it.

The smell hit her first, a nauseating wave of decay so strong it made her gag. She stumbled back, one hand covering her mouth and nose as her eyes watered. The pit below was dark, but her gaze caught something—a shape, pale and unmoving.

And then the shape became clear. Familiar.

Gemini.

A scream tore through Ivy’s throat, raw and guttural, reverberating in the empty space around her. “No! No, no, no, no, no, no!” she cried, her voice breaking, each word more desperate than the last. Tears slipped from her eyes as they locked on her best friend’s lifeless face, barely recognizable beneath the bruises and caved-in features. A long, open gash sliced through her throat, like a knife had been taken to it.

Her stomach lurched, bile rising in her throat as she tried to process the horrific sight. Her breathing was ragged, each inhale feeling sharper, heavier, as though the very act of drawing breath into her lungs was a betrayal of what she was seeing. That somehow her mind was playing tricks on her. But the light above the trapdoor cast cruel shadows on Gemini’s body, highlighting the sheer violence of what had been done to her.

What Roman had done.

“Gemini!” Ivy’s body convulsed as she collapsed beside the pit, clutching at the edge and reaching in as though this act could somehow pull her best friend back into the world of the living. Her shaking hands closed around the cold, stiff fingers that no longer curled into playful fists or reached out for hugs. Ivy’s entire frame shook with the force of her loud, hysterical cries as she clutched at Gemini’s hand, willing it to warm, to move, to hold hers back.

“Oh my god…Gem…” Her voice cracked, her words barely audible over the torrent of anguish pouring from her. “Oh god, Gemini, no, no, please, please wake up—”

The words caught in her throat, strangled by guilt and despair. She couldn’t finish. There was no point. No plea could bring Gemini back. The realization hit her like a physical blow, making her chest ache as if her heart were shattering into shards inside her ribcage.

“I’m sorry, babe, I’m so sorry,” Ivy wailed, fat teardrops splashing onto Gemini’s lifeless hand. The stark, unyielding coldness of her skin was wrong—everything about this was wrong.

Her sobs increased, her chest heaving as she cried out, “You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve this!” Her voice echoed in the space, bitter and broken.

Ivy rocked back and forth, her eyes squeezing shut as if it could stop the memories from flooding in—memories of Gemini’s laugh, her hugging Zaia and tickling Duchess, her fierce loyalty, her way of making Ivy feel like everything would be okay even when it wasn’t. All of it was gone now. Snuffed out by Roman’s brutality.

And she had let him in.

The realization was like a knife to her gut, twisting and unrelenting. Her fault. All her fault. She’d seen the signs. Felt the unease in her gut. Gemini had warned her, but she hadn’t listened. She’d ignored the warnings, chosen to believe in him when she should’ve been running far, far away.

“I’m s-sorry,” Ivy wept, the words spilling out over and over like a mantra as she gripped Gemini’s hand with both of hers. “F-Forgive me, Gem. Please forgive me…”

The weight of her grief was unbearable. Slumping in a heap next to the pit, her shoulders heaved from crying. Somewhere above her, the faint creak of footsteps reached her ears, a reminder that this horrible nightmare wasn’t over. But Ivy couldn’t move. She couldn’t leave Gemini here—not like this, not alone.

She pressed her forehead to the ground, her tears soaking the cold floor. “I’ll fix this,” she sniffled, her voice hoarse and trembling. “I swear to God, Gem. I’ll make this right. I’ll—” Her voice broke, the words dissolving into another gut-wrenching cry.

The silence in the room was deafening now, save for her choked sobs. The world felt darker, heavier, like it had shifted irreparably. Because it had. Gemini was gone. And Ivy wasn’t sure she could survive the hole that had just been carved into her soul.

The sound of heavy footsteps descending the stairs snapped Ivy out of her daze. Her heart raced as she released Gemini’s hand and scrambled to her feet, backing away from the trapdoor. Her body trembled, cold terror coursing through her veins.

Roman appeared, carrying a large, barrel-like tank similar to the one that sat in the corner of the basement. His broad frame filled the space, and the calm expression on his face made Ivy’s stomach twist in revulsion.

“I see you've found her,” he said casually, as if discussing something mundane, his tone unsettlingly smooth.

Ivy’s breath hitched, and her voice came out in a trembling shriek. “What did you do?!” she screamed, her hysteria bubbling over. “What did you do, you monster!”

Roman’s dark eyes flicked to her, and for a moment, something like disappointment crossed his face. But he didn’t answer. Instead, he turned his attention to the trapdoor, kneeling down and pulling it open fully.

“What are you doing?!” Ivy cried, her voice breaking. “Roman, stop! Please! Don’t—don’t touch her!” She stumbled forward instinctively, her hand outstretched, afraid to get close.

Roman didn’t stop. He bent down with deliberate precision and gripped Gemini’s body, hauling her up with a disturbing amount of strength and lack of hesitation. Ivy gagged, her knees threatening to give out as he moved the corpse with chilling efficiency.

“Stop it! Don’t do this!” Ivy cried, tears streaming down her face. “Please, Roman, I’m begging you! Leave her alone! Stop!” Her voice cracked, raw and desperate, but he didn’t even glance her way.

Instead, he began forcing Gemini’s limp form into the tank. The sound of bones snapping and joints dislocating filled the air, each crack a horrific reminder of his strength—and his cruelty. Ivy pressed her hands over her ears, crying uncontrollably as she backed against the wall. She couldn’t look away, no matter how much she wanted to. Every fiber of her being screamed to run, to fight, to do something, but her legs wouldn’t obey.

Roman worked methodically, his movements almost clinical, as though this was just another chore to complete. He didn’t speak, didn’t react to Ivy’s pleas. It was as if she wasn’t even there. Her sobs filled the silence, broken only by the grotesque sounds of his work. And all she could do was watch as the man she once thought she loved continued to unveil the monster he truly was.

“Why?” she begged, “Why are you doing this?”

Roman twisted the lid of the barrel closed and turned to face her. “They didn’t understand me like you do,” he explained, his voice almost tender as he glanced at her. “I didn’t want to kill them, hell, I ain’t even plan to…but Angelo was in the way, and Gemini…she just wouldn’t stop digging…”

For a moment, Ivy couldn’t breathe. Her chest tightened, her vision blurred, and the room spun. She blinked rapidly, hoping—praying—that she’d misheard him. But the look on his face, calm and unrepentant, told her otherwise.

“You…what do you mean you killed Angelo?” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Roman tilted his head slightly, as if her disbelief confused him. “He was holding you back, baby,” he said simply, his tone almost matter-of-fact. “Every time I saw him with you, I knew he’d never let us be happy. And Zaia deserves a father who loves her, who loves you.”

Ivy stumbled back, pressing herself against the cold concrete wall. “Oh god. Oh god, oh fuck…” The words tumbled out of her in a broken chant, her hands clutching at her chest as if trying to hold her heart together.

Roman took a step closer, his hands spread in a placating gesture. “Ivy, listen to me. I did it for us. For our future. Don’t you see?”

But she couldn’t hear him over the blood roaring in her ears. Memories of Angelo flooded her mind—the way he used to playfully lift Zaia onto his shoulders, how his laugh would echo through the house during family dinners. Yes, he had his faults. He was stubborn, controlling at times, and their relationship had ended messily. But he was Zaia’s father. He was her child’s father!

“I can’t believe this!” she cried, her voice rising in hysteria. She sank to her knees, clutching her head as tears poured down her face. “Angelo stressed me out, but I never wanted him dead! He was Zaia’s father! How could you—how could you take him away from her?!”

“Ivy,” he said, his tone low and coaxing, as though she were a frightened animal. “I know this is hard to hear, but Angelo was a piece of shit. He wasn’t good for you. He didn’t treat you the way you deserved. And Zaia? She’s better off without a man like him in her life.”

“Fuck you!” Ivy screamed, her voice cracking under the weight of her anguish. “You don’t get to decide that! You don’t get to play God with our lives!”

Roman’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening for a split second before softening again. “Baby girl,” he said, his voice almost soothing. “I’m protecting you. I’m protecting Zaia. You both deserve so much more than he could ever give. What’s a measly fucking house and some necklace when I can give you ten houses? A hundred necklaces? He was the bare minimum and you deserve more.”

“You’re sick,” Ivy hissed, her voice shaking with raw emotion. “You’re fucking insane!”

Her words seemed to pierce through Roman’s calm façade. For a moment, his face hardened, his jaw clenching as he stared at her. Then, just as quickly, his expression shifted back to one of calculated composure.

“I know you’re upset,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “But one day, you’ll understand. You’ll see that everything I’ve done was for you—for us.” He swallowed hard, emotion clouding his features, “Because I love you, Ivy. I love you so much.”

Ivy let out another guttural sob, her body wracked with uncontrollable tremors. She pressed her hands to her face, trying to block out the sight of him, the sound of his voice. The man she had trusted, the man she had thought she was in love with, had taken Gemini and Angelo from her.

From Zaia.

The realization hit her like a physical blow, stealing the air from her lungs. Her baby would grow up without her father—not because of a tragic accident, but because Roman had stolen him away. And he had the fucking nerve to stand there, calm and unbothered, as though he’d done her a favor as opposed to destroying her and her daughter’s life.

Roman crouched down in front of her, his large frame blocking out the dim light. He reached out as if to comfort her, but Ivy recoiled, her entire body rattling with fury and grief. “Don’t touch me!” she choked out, her voice raw and trembling. “Get away from me!”

He hesitated, his hand hovering in the air before slowly retracting. He stood, his towering figure casting a long shadow over her trembling form.

“You may hate me right now,” he said softly, “But deep down, you know I’m right. I’ll give you time to see that.”

Ivy didn’t respond. She couldn’t. All she could do was curl into herself, her sobs echoing through the cold, sterile basement as the horrifying truths engulfed her like a vulture swooping in on its prey.

Thanks for all your support last year! Your replies and reblogs are so much appreciated! Please keep your Asks coming, we’re loving all the theories!

Roman gif by @dejameflorecer

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#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #the boy next door #tbnd #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns angst #the bloodline #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x oc

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sunlightmurdock · 3 months ago

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omg you’re taking requests!!! you are one of my most favorite authors, this is so special, thank you!!

I am requesting ‘bear hug’ + Tyler Owens + cozy/sexy hahaha

Hope you’re doing good ♥️

ahh thank you so much, this is suchhhh a sweet ask 🫶

Homecoming | Tyler Owens

Synopsis: Tyler getting back from work trips almost always gets heated.

Warnings: reader is briefly lifted off of their feet, heavily implied sexual themes

…

There’s a special kind of way that Tyler likes to greet you. This has developed from the time that you met him, when he would wrap his arms around you with a gentle squeeze and release. Then, as friends, he would wrap both arms around your waist and hug you close, resting his head on top of yours, kind of burying your face against his chest.

Now that you’re much more than friends, the hugs are different too.

Especially with him being away for so long. Throwing himself into danger with you at the forefront of his mind, thinking solely of coming home to you.

He has been in southern Kansas for a week now, dealing with the sudden extreme weather. You’ve been worried sick, watching all the news broadcasts, searching for his face. Not even a text from him. Nothing on their channel, nothing from a single member of his crew.

And then, as the sky above your home is turning orange from blue, headed for a lilac sunset, you hear the familiar rumble of a RAM engine.

Just like always, you go rushing out onto the porch as he’s racing up the steps. Just as quickly as you get to see the smile on his face, you’re being wrapped up in his strong arms and lifted against him.

He buries his face into your neck and squeezes you so tightly that it’s a little hard to breathe, but you’re huffing out breathless laughter once he loosens up.

Once you’re back on your feet, that loose grip becomes firm once again as he drags you closer once more, groaning softly as he takes in your familiar smell. “God, I missed you.”

You’re usually the first one to kiss him, and this is no exception. Brushing the tip of your nose along the column of his neck, kissing at his jaw, humming in eager agreement. “So show me.”

He pretends not to know what drives you so crazy about these kinds of greetings. Acting like maybe it’s the distance that gets you so riled up. Knowing really, that just the feeling of being inescapably wrapped up in his arms is what gets your head spinning.

You’re kissing at his throat and shoulders, pushing at the fabric of his t-shirt as he walks you inside the farmhouse all of these work trips funded. Pinned against him once more right as you get through the front door.

Tyler’s brawny hands leave your hips for a moment, trusting you to behave for him. They slide up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing at your skin, tugging you closer against him, sandwiching you between him and the wall.

His weight anchors you there, his mouth wandering and his hands following that lead. They stretch across your ass and squeeze at your thighs, bundling as close to him as you can get.

Those greetings are almost always hot and heavy, clothes discarded in hallways and photo frames knocked off of walls.

There’s just something about the rush of the way he holds you tight that never gets old.

Even afterwards, once all the adrenaline dies down and you’re ready to just revel in the feeling of him being home, and all yours — you just can’t help but crawling close to him once again.

Laying yourself across his chest, your sigh is soft and contented as he wraps those big arms around you once more.

#tyler owens #Tyler Owens x reader #Tyler Owens x you #twisters 2024 #Tyler Owens fic #Tyler Owens smut #spookweek

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wandascrush · 3 months ago

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Please don’t say you love me

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Summary: Your new girlfriend has such a nice home, with so many secrets

Warnings: lies, death, deception, kissing, crying

A/N: A reupload!

The soft scent of lavender and vanilla on Wandas skin was intoxicating. You lied on top of her, legs intertwined and breasts touching one another as you woke her up with kisses. She giggled and touched your hips gently, you felt her let out a happy sigh as she flipped you over and nuzzled her face into the side of your neck. Your chest felt endlessly warm as you started your day with laughter. It was the first night you spent with Wanda, sleeping over in her bed, both comfortably naked, waking up together. Since you two had started dating three months ago, it had always been at your place, not that you minded.

Her hot breath fanned your ear, “I gotta get ready for work baby. Do you wanna stay here until I get back?” You heard the hesitation in her voice, “mhm m’kay sounds good bear.”

Two months earlier

“Wanda, baby, how much honey did you put in this oatmeal?” you sat on her lap, trying not to wince at the sugary-ness of

“Hmph, only about 6 tablespoons for your bowl why?”

“6 TABLESPOONS? YOU BEAR,” your laugh echoed around the room.

Her eyes were wide as she looked at you with faux suprise, “I love honey what can I say? I guess I am a bear,” she chuckled and rested her chin on your arm.

“It’s okay, you’re my bear.”

End of memory

She kissed the top of your head before you felt the side of the bed dip and heard her light footsteps to the bathroom. You adored her. A few hours later you woke up again with a rumble in your stomach asking for food. You stretched and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before picking up your phone and reading a text from Wanda:

I'll be home by 5, rest well sweetheart.

It was hard not to notice how meticulously clean Wanda's house was, couch pillows fluffed and in perfect corners, dishes and platters stacked in unison and color coordinated. Even her cereal boxes were stuck straight, organized from sweetest to least sweet. As new as her home was to you, something about it felt so familiar, so homely that you felt you'd lived here for years. The unfamiliarity of it all didn't scare you much, it excited you to build a new relationship from scratch. While you blindly rummaged through her cabinets looking for a morsel of food to eat, a voice boomed from above.

“Ms. L/N, may I assist you in finding a suitable meal for breakfast? I know cooking isn’t your strong suit.”

You spun around and your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. No one was there.

“H-hello? Who-where are you?”

“Ah my apologies, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Jarvis, an AI assigned to Ms. Maximoff by Mr. Stark. I help her with her domestic tasks and accompany any guests to make sure they are comfortable.”

You noticed whenever he spoke, the ceiling lights cast a light blue over the room. It was hard to get used to the fact that everything in Wandas home was high-tech, even her daily assistant.

“Sure, thank you. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance Jarvis.” Without another word, the stove turned on by itself and the fridge opened up and pushed a carton of eggs into your hands. The fridge was practically telling you what to cook. You were awestruck.

A few hours later after watching a movie, doing some work, and even pestering Jarvis with question about himself, you got bored and decided to look around. You wandered through all the rooms, scanned through the books on the shelves, turning to go back to the couch when you accidentally knocked a vase off the tv stand.

Instead of it breaking, it tilted on the edge of the mantle, resting like an open lid…huh.

Your eyes squinted closely when you noticed a small black button under the bottom of the vase. Press it or not, press it or not, you couldn’t decide. You didn’t want to break the trust between you and Wands, but she did tell you to make yourself at home. Then again, why would she have a hidden button…is there something she doesn’t want you to see?

“Press it,” Jarvis’ accented voice spoke above you.

“W-what?”

“You should press it, Ms. L/N.” Huh. Your fingers tentatively reached for the black button. Click. The entire fireplace mantle and TV shifted, making screeching and mulling noises, until it disappeared into an open space in the side of the house. What was left behind the missing wall piece was a dark hallway, with one left corner turn.

Meanwhile, Wanda was busy at the Avengers compound, working on controlling her emotions with Bruce. He was more gentle with her than any scientist she’d ever met, she began to trust him.

“What’re you feeling now, when I show you these images?”

Her voice came out shaky, angry. “Take them away Bruce.” His eyes trailed down to Wanda’s glowing finger tips. “Control them Wanda, you can do this.” She took a deep breath and tried again, “I think we’re done for today.” After grabbing her bag and packing her files, she was on her way home to you, finally.

You gingerly walked through the hall, phone flashlight in hand as you turned the short corner. You felt a little silly expecting a big surprise or some crazy object, but all there was was a single locked door at the end of the turn, no handle. It was steel white, glossy and smooth, with nothing to pry it open. It looked like someone painted it on or magically built it into the wall. Your stomach felt nervous all of a sudden and your heartbeat a little faster against your chest. “Jarvis, is there a key for this?”

“It’s DNA activated Miss.” You were a mix of sad that you wouldn’t be able to open it, and relieved that you didn’t have to either. Before turning away you gave the door one last one over, tracing its cold white steel. And just like that, click, the door slid open. Holy. Shit.

“Fuck, that’s a lot of traffic,” Wanda tried calling you multiple times, but you didn’t answer. Maybe your phone was off. Either way it made her nervous, sickly nervous, for you to be alone exploring the house for too long. She couldn’t wait to put her bag down and fall asleep listening to your heartbeat again. But for now, she was stuck in a line of traffic longer than the line at the DMV.

It took a minute for your eyes to even process what they were seeing. You were staring at a ginormous, white warehouse looking room with lab tables and high tech screens. The ceiling had no less than 10 rows with slim, sleek cases, each holding what looked like a person. They all looked like life size dolls and as you stepped forward, legs heavier than titanium, you came to the haunting realization that they were all…you. Your eyes, your hair, your lips, even down to your birthmarks on every. single. body. They were displayed like mannequins. You were displayed like a mannequin.

Your chest burned, you were, you were, well you didn’t even know what you were to be honest. Your eyes were blurry and your face was hot, before you knew it you were on the floor. You could feel the coldness of the tile, the glow of the blue light above you.

“Now you know, the truth. I’ve always tried to get you to come down here, but I never got the chance until now.”

A car door slammed from outside. The sound of heels click clacking on the ground got closer.

“Jarvis,” your voice sounded like someone else’s, you couldn’t even feel the movements of your mouth, “what do you mean always?”

“Y/N? Baby I’m home!” she was still downstairs, her voice echoed off the high ceilings. What would happen when she found you? When she knew what Jarvis did? Her voice got closer, and closer, and closer.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“What?” What’s he thanking you for?

“You treated me like a friend, not just a robot. I thought I should return the-”

His voice cut out and the soft blue light in the ceiling stopped. Your girlfriend stood right behind you, a power box in her hand. Bye bye Jarvis. Wanda couldn’t stop thinking about the look on your face, the way she had never seen such a look on another human ever before.

“Hey, hey listen to me,” immediately she went to the floor and tried to hold your hands, console you. You practically flew back at her touch, instantly feeling rage and fear inside you at once. Those weren’t a good combination.

“What is this, what is all of this! I need to know now Wanda, before I do something I’ll regret,” you held one of her work screwdrivers out toward her. Both of you knew you didn’t have the strength to hurt anyone right now, and that made you weak.

“Just listen, just listen,” she took a tentative step toward you, like caging in a wild animal. “This is crazy, I know”

“Yeah no fucking shit! Who are these people, why-why do they all look like me. Explain.” Your mind started spinning out of control.

“Because they are you.”

“LIAR” You pushed her up against the wall, screwdriver against her neck. Air was hard to breathe, you were panting like a labored dog. And then you saw it. The pain in Wanda’s eyes, in her heart.

“I’m not lying. Th-these are all clones of you. Tony helped me design them if I swore to only use one, to help the kids mourn you but, I- I couldn’t stop.” Kids, you had kids? She was sobbing, shaking silently. So were you.

“I just kept losing you, and whenever I traveled to another time, you were gone again. I lost you in every universe. I had to find a way to make you stay.”

It’s like your identity fell through the floor, your world burned up into flames, you weren’t even you anymore. You were some fucking lab experiment. The screwdriver fell to the floor with you, and in an instant your face was in Wandas warm, soft hands. The hands of a liar. The hands of the woman you thought loved. Your worst nightmare and your daydream.

If your body had a mind of its own, it was trying to get you killed. Without thinking your hand met her cheek, slapping harder than you’d ever hit anyone, or anything, before. Shit.

“You ungrateful bitch. Do you know what I’ve done for you?” She pushed you onto your back, your head hit the marble floor with a smack. “How I had to make you fall in love with me over and over. How I had to watch you die in every universe?,” you couldn’t tell who’s tears were who’s on your cheek, hers and yours mixed together.

“Baby,” she lied her soft brown hair on your chest. You didn’t move.

“What number am I, Wanda? How many more….of me died.”

“I did this all because I-”

”Please don’t say you love me.”

“11. You’re version 11.”

There had been 11 more before you, 11 more that had had the same life, same face, same family, same personality. If you cut yourself would you even bleed? But what you didn’t know was that Wanda had been responsible for 6 of your deaths. She never forgave herself.

Tenderly, her hands held the back of your hand as she pressed her lips to yours. You closed your eyes for a second.

The last thing you heard was Wandas voice breaking,

“Version 11, shut down.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader

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ladymarvel27 · 4 months ago

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Frazzle 🎀 Carlos Sainz

Carlos Sainz x Reader

Series Master List

Description: Can he return on time for the date?

f1 masterlist

“But why?” You almost shout out.

“This,” he opens his phone and shows you the message of details, “an event is today, and a meeting tomorrow.”

“I waited two weeks for this date!” You sat down on the edge of the bed, throwing your hands in the air frustrated. “TWO WEEKS!”

“Don’t worry. It’s just a small event. I will try to return by evening, okay?” He assures, placing his hand on your shoulder. You don’t say anything, your head hanging low. He lifts your chin and holds your gaze, “I promise you, I will be back on time.” You softly nod. “Now let’s get your dress before you leave for work, huh?” A small smile makes its way to your face.

The dress he got you hangs neatly in your wardrobe-Pink in colour. You lined up other accessories, a pair of earrings and a necklace to see how they look with it. Your phone dings.

Princess, how are you? He had messaged you.

Yeah, just returned, you? You replied.

Just attending this boring event.

Looks like you’re not enjoying.

Missing you so much me reina, he sends.

I am also missing you, my bear, you texted

Btw I have made dinner for you, check in the refrigerator.

Oh. You went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. You smiled when you saw an airtight container with a sticky note attached, ‘Dinner for you, Senorita’, and a kiss emoji next to it.

Thank you, Senor, you messaged him.

😘, he sends

Enjoy the dinner amor, going to dinner too, adios, He wrote.

Adios, my love, you replied and closed your phone.

After doing all your chores, you lay on the bed.

Going to sleep, you ate? He messaged.

Yeah, thanks for the dinner, I was too tired, the message was sent, received and read immediately. You smiled.

Few seconds later, he replies, Mention not mi amor

Btw, when will you return?

I have a meeting tomorrow, I will return by evening.

Good to hear.

It will be like the first date. I will pick you up from your home, bring you flowers, see the sunset together and couple dance to your favourite song.

So romantic, aha, you giggle as you write, remembering his old Renault interview. You send him a gif:

😂😂😂, he replies.

How was the event?

Ah, it was boring, but it was important for sponsorship. How was your day?

Yeah, fine, but I am exhausted.

You should go to sleep.

Yeah, I am in bed.

Good.

Goodnight, bear.

Goodnight, princess.

You closed your phone and placed it on the nightstand. You looked around the room, taking in everything. You smiled to yourself, excited for tomorrow's date. Your hand reached for the table lamp’s switch, you turned it off and went to sleep.

The next day, you returned in the early evening to get ready.

Got the flight, will reach by 7, he had texted you few minutes before.

Have a safe journey, you texted, but the message wasn't received by the other end. ‘He is in flight, it’s obvious’, you thought. Your stomach rumbles. You placed the phone on a charger and went to eat something.

You open the refrigerator to take out the face pack you will use. The water bottles were looking at you, but you ignored them. You didn’t want to go to the washroom in between. Leave them. Half an hour later, you come out of the shower and put on your dress. You put on some music while grooming yourself. You hummed to the music looking in the mirror. You weren’t a master, so you only put on a little so that it won’t ruin your look. You applied the finishing lipstick and pouted in front of the mirror. An hour later, you got ready. You decided to open your phone. The message was still not received. You looked at the clock. It was half past seven.

Carlos, where are you??? You messaged him. ‘What happened? Has he again gone missing like on Tuesday?’ You thought.

You sat on the couch and waited, but the message wasn't even reaching him. You tried calling him several times, but the bell wasn’t ringing. You put on your flats and went outside. Maybe he wanted to surprise you. But no signs of him. It was so hot, but you were still standing. Your throat felt dry. After it became intolerable, you went inside, to the balcony instead.

Your eyes roamed all over the neighbourhood, looking for his car if it was approaching. Your body was drying up, but you seemed to ignore it. You were already tense about Carlos. He wasn’t picking up calls, and your messages weren’t reaching him. You called his parents, but they seemed to come across the same problem. He wasn’t ignoring you. The calls weren’t reaching him.

The streetlights were suddenly turned on, blinding you. Your head felt heavy. You held the railing, trying to support yourself as you sat on the floor against the balcony. You tried getting up, but your steps staggered as you slumped on the floor.

Seperators credit: @saradika-graphics @saradika

Taglist: @faithshouseofchaos @itsjustvs4

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cordeliasdarling · 5 months ago

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Heavenly — Larissa Weems x Reader

——

Notes: My first smut for Larissa! I know it’s not great, I forgot how to write it tbh, so bear with me!

Beta read by @poulengp , you’re the best :,)

Warnings: smut, dom/sub themes, petplay if you squint.. (18+!!!!)

——

The front door opened.

Your heartbeat hammered through your body, reverberating against your bones. You shouldn't be this nervous, but this was the first time you would be letting her take control of you. It had always been the other way round, you pleasing her in every way possible, dominating her, letting her be free from all of the stress, but the way that your life had been going recently— well, she knew you needed this. You knew you needed this. That didn't make it any less nerve wracking though.

You heard the footsteps echo through the house, heels against wood. You suddenly worried that you were underdressed, maybe you didn't look attractive, or maybe your seated position on the couch wasn't good enough. You quickly got up, smoothing down your jeans— were they always that wrinkly? Sighing, you sat back down, legs crossed and arms rigid against your sides.

The handle of the door started to twist around, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

Larissa Weems entered the room, her tall figure casting a shadow against the wall. Your eyes travelled up her body, taking in every detail. The golden buttons on her vintage outfit shining from the soft lighting in the room. There she was, your beloved Larissa.

"I thought I told you to be undressed when I got home." Her low tone boiled something inside you, something really, really good.

"Sorry—" Your eyes widened because in the hurry of getting ready for her arrival, you had completely forgotten her request, the one in the text she'd sent you at work. You remembered receiving it, sitting alone in the break room and feeling a fire in the pit of your stomach at the request. Damn you for forgetting! You stood up quickly, hastily taking off your clothes, but a gloved hand stopped you.

"Allow me." Your gaze raised to meet her eyes, locking with those ocean blue irises. Watching as she removed her gloves, you tried to calm the ache inside you at the sight of her slender fingers. The varnished nails, oh, the varnished nails. How you wished for them to—

Your thoughts were cut short as her hands moved to unbutton your shirt. Heart hammering even louder, you were sure she could hear. A small hum rumbled in her throat as she laid eyes on your bare skin, save your bra. Her red tainted lips curled into a smile, flashing her pearly white teeth. Oh how you wished she would open her mouth and eat you up.

Larissa took her time, slipping off your shirt completely, sliding down your jeans so you were in nothing but the lingerie you had picked out that morning. Nothing too spectacular, much to your dismay. Why hadn't you thought ahead? Oh, right, you were supposed to be naked, like a good girl. Is that what she had called you yesterday while you planned the happenings of this evening?

You shivered, not from the temperature, but because of what it felt like to be under her gaze. When she was looking at you so intensely, it was hard to be aware of your surroundings. The usually clicking clock had suddenly stopped, or at least in your mind. How could you focus on that when this woman was looking at you?

"Knees, now." Her command had a soft but firm undertone. This was exactly what you had been craving over the last week, someone to just tell you what to do. You were sick of having to control everything in your life. That's why Larissa had come up with idea.

You obediently sunk down to your knees while she sat where you had been seated. She placed a hand on your head and smiled. "Such a good pet." Your mind went into overdrive, almost gasping in happiness at the name. You weren't into petplay per se, but this made you very excited. It caused you to shiver again, but this time it came from somewhere else; between your thighs.

Larissa noticed this and her expression was full of amusement. "Is something wrong?" You shook your head quickly, looking away, but you felt two fingers tilt your head back up, forcing eye contact. She spoke lowly. "Tell me the truth."

Something about the way she said it caused you to speak the truth immediately. "I'm just feeling.. a little turned on." You mumbled, tempted to look away again but she kept a firm grip on your chin, knowing you too well. A smirk stretched upon her lips.

"I guess we'll have to do something about that, won't we?" She whispered, then stood, walking to the door. "Crawl beside me." She commanded, and who were you to refuse? Still on your hands and knees, you followed, ducking your head as you and Larissa went upstairs to the bedroom.

"Remove your underwear and get on the bed."

Nodding quickly, you slipped off your remaining garments and got onto the bed, your legs crossed and arms covering your chest a little shyly.

"Don't go all shy on me, sweetheart." She teased, then moved to you, positioning you so your legs were spread. She moved closer, hitching up her skirt a little so she could comfortably kneel on the carpeted bedroom floor. You briefly thanked yourself for choosing to carpet the bedroom. Her lips opened, blowing her gentle breath against your aching and already wet folds. You shivered for the third time that night, gulping as you looked up to the ceiling.

"Be a good pet and look at me." Larissa said, and when you looked down, she was smiling.

"S—sorry.." You mumbled, locking eyes with her. She smirked, before she leaned her head down and started to kitten lick you. A gasp escaped your lips, eyes wide as her tongue delved deeper through your soaked folds. She hummed, not pulling away. She lifted your legs and placed them on her shoulders, strong hands gripping your thighs, nails digging into your skin leaving little crescent marks.

"Fuck.." You whispered, moaning quietly. Her tongue found your clit and expertly flicked it with her tongue. She was so skilled at that, but of course she was, after pleasing you for over four years now.

You felt the pressure build from between your thighs to your abdomen, gasping and moaning and panting. "Larissa!" Your legs tried to close involuntarily, though you didn't want her to stop at all. She knew this of course, moving your thighs back open and devouring you.

It didn't take long for you to come, shaking and twitching as you rode it out, her tongue lapping up all of the mess. She hummed again, resurfacing for air. Her lips found yours, letting you taste yourself. It was divine, you had to admit.

The night wasn't over though. It was safe to say you had another four rounds, using toys and various positions.

And God, it was heavenly.

——

#larissa weems #principal weems #larissa weems x reader #principal weems x reader #gwendoline christie #lesbian #lgbtq #smut #larissa weems smut

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livinghostly · 1 year ago

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hey there, sunshine — suguru geto x reader

a/n: not in love w this !! but couldn't get the idea out of my brain when i was trying to sleep. was also intended to be for choso but got too ooc sooooo wc: 2.3k yet another date didn't work out for you, and your roommate bears the burden of listening to all your complaints. he also may or may not have a crush on you. fluff/humor

the soft orange of the painted sky poured through your blinds, slipping through the cracks and almost deliberately shining down on your eyes that just barely peeked beneath your comforter. your curtains waved back and forth with the fan, soft whirrs that once lulled you to sleep now drawing you from your slumber with a ragged groan. far gone was the fulfillment of your soothing dreams, your memories running farther and farther away as you tried to recall them and sink yourself back into that peace of mind.

you screwed your eyes shut in defense from the harsh rays of the sun, huffing in the warmth of your pillow before lifting your head and sandwiching yourself against the mattress. your fists squeezed the pillowcase with irritation, pulling as hard as you could manage to encase you in the comfort of your bed.

the birds chirped in unison, chattering as they built a nest on the apartment balcony your roommate refused to relocate (he called himself a humanitarian, but you were sure part of him refrained because he knew it bothered you). the slight creaks of your rotating fan were becoming more noticeable even as you tried to calm yourself back to sleep. you were uncomfortably warm now, the frustration culminating beneath your comforter and suffocating the air.

buzz.

your phone, shaking itself to life with a notification. you sighed.

buzz.

you thrashed the bedsheets away from you, your pillows and plushies cocooning in your blankets landing on the ground with a soft thump. the palm of your hand slammed against the hollow wood of your bedside table in a blind rage, desperately scouring your clutter in an attempt to locate your phone.

finally, you dug your nails into the rubber case and snagged it from the charger with a thwack. you rolled over to your side, squinting at the sunlight as you turned it on. three new messages, and an aspiring text bubble all from one person.

080-7766-5289

hey

good morning

would you want to get coffee with me?

the pondering text bubble finally popped, and your phone vibrated again.

maybe some breakfast too?

your groggy eyes glanced at the time. 8:23am. you barely had a chance to think through the onslaught of messages. the unrelenting number belonged to a guy you’d met at the bar last week, who was sweet enough for you to trade numbers with. last night had been your first date, a simple dinner and a movie.

unfortunately for him, you felt a better connection to the movie that night than to him. he was strangely stiff when you were around, answering any questions with caution that made you feel like an intruder for asking. comments and questions of his own were dry and anything but open-ended, his punctuation hanging in the stale air while you worked overtime to keep the conversation going.

it really didn’t seem worth it.

you shut off your phone and placed it on the table again, taking a deep breath. all at once, the scent of brewed coffee beans and pancakes wafted in from the kitchen. your stomach rumbled in response, mouth slightly watering as you came to terms with just how hungry you were.

you pulled yourself out of bed, dragging your feet along the plush carpet of the apartment. sluggishly, you ran your hands through your hair in an attempt to tame what mess it made of itself. it was cooler in the open loft, the windows propped open, welcoming the dewey air and various chattering of wild critters. those damn birds.

your roommate, suguru, was in the kitchen, his back to you as he worked his magic on the stovetop in front of him. his red apron was tied into neat bows wrapped around his neck and his waist– the words ‘kiss the cook’ plastered in bold font on the front of it with puckered lips, a gag gift from gojo last christmas that he had now worn to the point of the ends being frayed and stained with various ingredients.

he was wearing a black t-shirt that squeezed the tightness of his muscles, tense and working diligently as he flipped a pancake. his black basketball shorts hung loosely around his waist– surely thrown on haphazardly as he woke up –and he donned a pair of mismatched neon-striped socks. truly, a sight reserved for you, and only you.

on the island behind him, two steaming cups of coffee were presented next to empty plates. the pink one was yours, the black one was his. your utensils had a few extra napkins stuffed underneath them.

you make a mess one time and he can’t let it go.

he acknowledged your presence with a soft hum, before turning his head and offering a small smile. it was soft and captivating, just as he was. his charm washed over you as his gaze followed every part of your figure, raising a curious eyebrow at the sight of you missing a sock. nothing he hadn’t seen before, in fact, he’d seen you much worse and much more grumpy.

“good morning,” he said, his voice a low rumble. he met your tired eyes, taking in the delicate hues that warmed his skin. your eyebrows were still pinched together as you recovered from the confusion and discomfort of your untimely awakening. “rough night?”

“rough everything,” you huffed, grabbing your coffee and shuffling next to him. you hoisted yourself up to sit next to the stack of pancakes he’d created and leaned your head against the cabinets.

suguru watched carefully as you took a sip of your coffee, a sense of pride fluttered in his stomach when a content smile graced your lips. his motions came to a slow stop as he stared you down. you paid him no mind as you wrapped both hands around the mug for warmth and basked in the taste again, then kept it close to your chest as you licked the sweetness off your lips.

after many months, he’d refined your coffee blend to your ideal taste. pestering you each time if you liked it enough, or what he could improve on to make sure that his handiwork was no less than perfect in your eyes. he reveled in the way you adored his cooking, putting pieces of himself– his adoration, compassion, and sentiment –into his creations and curating your taste closer to his own.

his grip on the spatula loosened, nearly slipping out of his hand and bringing him back to reality.

suguru cleared his throat and resumed his task, sliding an additional pancake onto the tower, slowly but surely resembling the one of pisa. he kept his head low with a merciless blush refusing to back down. you didn’t notice. “did it not go well?”

“it was… fine, i guess.” you sighed, beginning to zone out as you stared down a picture frame hanging not too far away.

it was you and suguru, one of the first few nights you had finally gotten comfortable being around him and he’d invited you to meet his friends. more so, he begged you to come out of your room and gave you no room for escape when he sandwiched you between himself and the couch’s armrest. shoko took the photo, stealthily enough you didn’t realize it existed until you saw it hanging in the hallway.

suguru’s arm was thrown over the back of the couch, a lazy grin on his face as he looked at you. (gojo told him he looked goofy with that expression. lovestruck didn’t ‘suit’ him.) you couldn’t stop laughing at one of his many sly comments he’d whisper to you, covering your face as you cackled and peeked through them to get a look at him. his stare made your face burn hot and you kept it covered until gojo managed to grab everyone’s attention, like he always did.

it felt so long ago when suguru existed as your shy, withdrawn roommate who would stare at you with, seemingly, a dull interest when you spoke to him. despite his staring, he was always polite and considerate of your needs, your time, your privacy. he invited you to the food he’d make, setting aside extra servings for you. if you had already eaten, they’d go in the fridge with a sticky note on it.

then he was recording your shows, buying your snacks, anything he got for himself he seemed to get one for you as well, in a different color. it all came with ease, drawing you into his routines like he had his own gravitational pull and you were stuck in his orbit.

as he’d gotten to know you, he learned how spiteful you were to any form of change. you hated it when your go-to brands changed their packaging, when your restaurants were out of your preferred foods, or when your route to work was partially under construction. but you adjusted, without contest, to suguru’s rituals like it was nothing at all.

“i don’t know. maybe i’m being mean, but he was so, like, hard to talk to,” you shrugged. “it is so tiring to be the one doing all the talking.”

suguru doesn’t say anything, just nods.

“and then he texted me good morning. in what world are we in the good-morning-text phase?” you pouted, looking at him. “so weird. i barely know him.”

“and he asked me out for coffee. and breakfast. why would i do that?” suguru’s gaze flutters over you as you take a sip from your mug, his eyes lingering on the way you bite your lip in thought afterward. he chooses to stay quiet, inviting you to ramble for as long as you pleased, as long as he would be the one to hear your voice. “i don’t think i have the brainpower for either of those things and carrying an entire conversation on my back. it’s not even 9 in the morning.”

he turned the stovetop off, taking the pan over to the sink to wash. the mixing bowl and other utensils were taken care of earlier and already set aside on the drying rack, always so tidy.

“so, not well,” suguru concluded, his lips turning into a smirk. he teased, “i won’t get to meet him?”

“no, never. but also i got a free dinner and a movie out of it. so, something went right...”

he chuckled. the one thing men are good for, you’d told him before. in that way, he really wasn’t any different from the rest of your roster. he supplied you with food and outings, and wouldn’t dream of you paying for them, paying no mind to the way you’d protest and nearly brawl at the register.

suguru never met any of your dates, you’d disappear into the night– or days on end, not allowing them the gratification of crossing the threshold of your apartment.

he began to separate the pancakes onto your respective plates and set a small bowl of sliced fruit between them for you to share. he cleared his throat. “on to the next, then?”

“maybe… i don’t know. the thought of going out and all the dates is just so exhausting.”

suguru hummed again. a man of few words. he liked the idea of you staying in– staying home, with him. he honestly wasn’t sure how many horrible date stories he could handle, you could do so much better. you deserved better, and he could give it to you.

he twirled his fork as you slipped behind him, gently caressing his back as you passed. a warm trail remained in the absence of your hand, burning into his skin before dissipating into nothing more than a longing to reel back into your embrace again. “are you still interested in that bodega that just opened up? i don’t want to exhaust you.”

“no, that's not…” you paused, slipping into your stool, mouth agape as you found your words. “it’s different, with you, you know. it’s easy.”

“i’m easy?”

it was too early in the morning for his games. you sputtered. “no– stop! that’s not what i’m saying.”

suguru chuckled. “we don’t have to call it a date, you know, if it makes it easier.”

“what?” you blinked, then narrowing your eyes at him. the sun from the loft brightened his toffee-colored eyes that bored into you expectantly, though not bothering to repeat himself. he’d rather watch you squirm while he kept that stupid grin on his face. “do you think you’re making me feel better?”

the gentle glow of his skin was unmatched to anything, or anyone, you’ve seen. his hair was unbrushed, the slight curls framing the sides of his face and tickling underneath his chin. he was always elegant. and pretty. unfortunately, he was just as aware as you were.

he shrugged half-heartedly, taking note of the way your fingers bounced your fork in the air as you stared. “don’t worry if you don’t want to go.”

“i do want to go.”

“so, it’s a date, then.”

suguru took a quick bite of his pancakes, poorly hiding his taunting grin with stuffed cheeks. maybe later he would feel guilty, making you all flustered so soon after waking up, drowsiness anchoring your posture against the stool. but, for now, with you in front of him, he found himself giddy as he toyed with your reactions.

“you’re impossible sometimes, do you know that?” you opted for taking a sip of your coffee, an anxious whisper in the shell of your ear warning you that you were going to embarrass yourself by chewing with your mouth full. as if he hadn't seen it before. it was hard to avoid his stare, to escape the painful position he put you in. was he serious?

you mumbled into your mug, “you hang out with gojo too much. is he gonna tag along, too?”

(gojo, the master of getting anything he wanted, any time, anywhere, no matter what.)

“it hurt's me, that you're thinking about him at a time like this.”

he smiled, more genuine this time. you watched him carefully, catching the nervous twitch of his fingertips he combated with a melodic thrum against the island. you considered how sincere his tone was, his gentle demeanor somehow becoming more soft as his playfulness subsided.

"let me take you out."

you blinked, chewing on your lip thoughtfully. "to... the bodega?"

suguru laughed. "of course. i was thinking of a few different places, though."

"as in more dates?" you poked in his direction with your fork. he nodded. "who says we make it past one?"

"why not? we've already made it to our 'good morning' and 'eating breakfast together' phase."

#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk suguru #jjk suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru geto fluff #suguru fluff #geto fluff #jujutsu kaisen suguru #gojo mentioned #lol #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #spleen writes

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miasmaghoul · 6 months ago

Text

Afternoon Delight

Rating: E

Pairing: Aether/Dew

Contains: a lunch date, complete with dessert. ft transmasc dew (use of cunt/clit/dick for his anatomy)

Aether sighs as his phone buzzes against his hip, tossing his pen onto the pile of papers in front of him. It's been a frantic morning in the infirmary, lots of running and putting out fires, and he'd finally had the chance to get to his charting. It's a little after 11am, almost an hour until his well-deserved lunch break, and the last thing he needs is another surprise emergency.

Thankfully, this text is a different sort of surprise.

D: come to the wing on ur lunch. got something 4 u.

He smirks at the screen, sending a quick thumbs up and sliding his phone back into his pocket. It's the third time this week he's gotten that same text from Dew, and he can't say he's upset about it. The little ghoul has been on his ass about eating better since they all got back from tour. Dew discovered that he'd been living off of protein shakes and caffeine during his shifts, and to say he wasn't happy would be an understatement. Since then, whenever their schedules allow it, Dew has been making him lunch. Now, a few times a week, Aether finds himself presented with a ridiculously elaborate meal and has the pleasure of eating it with Dew at his side. He tries not to let his mind wander as he goes back to his paperwork, stomach already rumbling in anticipation of finding out what's on the menu today.

The next 45 minutes pass in slow motion, he swears it. The second the clock hits noon he drops his pen, tosses his stethoscope on top of the stack of folders still waiting for him, and breezes out the office door. He makes it to the lobby before anyone catches him, and when the Brother behind the small intake desk waves at him Aether hold up one hand.

"I'm on lunch," he announces. "Whatever it is, leave me a note. I'll see it in an hour."

Aether strides into the hall before the man can answer, can feel him gawping at his back. If it's urgent, someone will call him. Right now he's focused only on the walk to the kitchen, finally letting himself think about what Dew might have waiting for him.

A few days ago it had been homemade pho with chicken and all the fixings, fragrant broth piled high with veggies and herbs pilfered from the greenhouse. Aether had eaten two bowls and part of a third, had gone back for the second half of his shift food drunk with his pants unbuttoned. Dew had chatted with him the whole time, munching on a bowl of grapes while Aether chowed down, face lined with both obvious amusement and something sweeter. He'd reached over to wipe a splash of broth from Aether's cheek and earned a kiss to the back of the hand for his troubles. Dew had accused him of being a sap, and Aether had not argued.

He groans when he finally reaches the door to the ghoul wing, the scent of something savory and delicious flooding his nose the second he enters. Aether floats towards the kitchen like a cartoon character smelling a freshly baked pie, rubbing his growling stomach as he rounds the corner into the common room.

"What smells so -"

Oh. There's no one here. That's a surprise, Dew has always been waiting for him at the dining table on days like this. Instead, he sees a lidded container sitting at the end of the island, a small piece of paper resting on top of it. Aether frowns as he shuffles over to it, snatching up the note bearing his name. Maybe Dew had gotten called for a last minute practice session or something. He tries not to be too disappointed as he unfolds the paper, but can't help but feel a little put out that Dew hadn't said anything. He peeks into the container, but condensation clinging to the inside of the lid obscures its contents. His attention returns to the note, and Aether's mood lifts almost instantly.

Made your favorite, it reads.

That would mean pork and veal meatballs with spinach, braised in a slightly sweet tomato sauce, served over parmesan polenta and topped with fresh ricotta. Aether can't believe he'd do all that for a lunch, of all things, but when he cracks the lid he sees he's right. It's still hot, can't have been in the container for more than a few minutes, and Aether tries not to drool down his chin while he goes back to the note.

Dessert's in your bedroom, it continues in Dew's scratchy hand. Go eat it first.

It's physically painful for Aether to shut that lid, but he manages. He tosses the note back on top of it as he turns on his heel, rushing into the hall and digging his keys out of his pocket. He can't imagine what Dew left for him, but it must be good if he'd included it in his note. Aether singles out his bedroom door key just as he turns the final corner, making a beeline to unlock the last room on the left.

Imagine his surprise to find it already cracked open. Dew must have been in a real rush, that isn't like him at all. Aether shoves his keys back into his pocket, pushes the door open, and in the center of the bed -

"Oh."

"Finally," Dew sighs, smirking, "I thought you'd never show up."

Aether can't get his mouth to close as he takes in the sight before him. Dew's in a t-shirt and socks, but that's it. Reclining against Aether's pillows, casually regal, with one hand up his shirt and the other between his spread thighs. He can see two of those long fingers working, and Aether's stomach cramps when he hears the slick sound of Dew pumping them in and out of his already flushed cunt.

The little ghoul slides them out, spreading dusky lips so Aether can get a good look at his creamy hole and plump little dick, and Aether's cock gives a mighty throb.

"Gonna have your dessert?"

Dew clenches around nothing and Aether's head spins. He stumbles towards the bed and Dew huffs out a chuckle, tugging at one of his nipples. They're stiff enough to poke through his shirt, one of Aether's favorite sights, and he licks his lips as he crawl up the mattress. He knows he's doomed when Dew raises those two fingers, stretching his slick between them as he brings them to his lips.

"I promise it's nice and sweet," he coos, tongue poking between his fangs. "You're gonna want a taste."

Dew presses those shiny digits inside with excruciating slowness, eyes rolling back at the taste as a raspy moan escapes him. It's exaggerated, a show, and Aether has to roll his hips against the blankets as he drinks it in. He's not even fully hard, not yet, but he can feel a sticky spot forming against his thigh regardless. He gets his hands around Dew's thighs as the little ghoul fingerfucks his own mouth, spreading him wide and damn near whimpering when those skinny hips rock upwards.

"Eat up, big guy," Dew lilts between pumps of his fingers, other hand slipping out from under his shirt to get a nice handful of Aether's hair. "I know you must be starving."

Dew arches off the bed when Aether dives in, lapping at his pudgy clit with too-rough strokes that he knows the little ghoul adores. A pair of sharp heels dig into his back, urging him on, and as the glorious taste of Dewdrop fills his mouth Aether has a feeling there will be a stain soaked into his khakis by the time he's done.

Dew will never let him hear the end of it, and Aether won't mind it one bit.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #aether/dew #aether x dew #dewther #transmasc dew #i just love them so much you guys can you tell

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beartitled · 6 months ago

Note

Any favorite characters from TNMN?

I got that question twice, so will answer this one👍

This game is kinda interesting with the characters, in a sense that we don’t really get to know them as people

What I mean that we just see them pass by, so we as a player just kinda left guessing who they are

Just keep in mind that my opinion here is mainly based solely on my silly headcanons

(also I think all tnmn characters are fun in their own way)

Anyway 👏long👏post👏time👏

Teutates Taranis

What can I say

- long beautiful hair ✅

- goth ✅

- punk rock aesthetic ✅

- looks huggable ✅

- eternal pokerface ✅

Bro has it all

I honestly really like his design and I imagine him being chill make up artist of the neighbourhood

Sverchzt Twins

Sistors 🥹

Just generally love wholesome sibling dynamics

+ the decision to make 2 similar characters with a different mole placement in the game where you need to search for differences in said characters is genius honestly 👏👏

Like the sprites are the same, so your brain does not register that difference at first

Arnold Schmicht

This may be random lmao💥

I just like the guy

Fellow creative, I respect any writer

Any writing is cool and impressive man

🐻‍❄️< illiterate /silly

Also the moustache is iconic

Arnold is the character that brings me some sort of comfort tbh, I headcanon him as a chill wise man who enjoys his life and loves his wife

Anastacha Mikaelys and THE Milkman™️

The classics

At first I had no idea that they are actually related, I legit thought ppl were joking

But no, papa and daughter 💥

The tired family™️

I like Anastacha, as a recent graduate I relate to the struggle of homework 24/7

Also bonus points for being angsty teenager or whatever 💅

And the milkman oh the god the milkman

I like him, but not for reasons you might think

Tbh I headcanon milkman as this silly pathetic (divorced) man, who is just trying to get by in his everyday life

The guy is tired, he sleeps 2 hours a day

The whole internet simping for milkman, was hilarious to me initially

🫵🫵omg THE GUY🫵🫵 JUST LIKE SOME RANDOM GUY🫵🫵🫵 MARRY ME 👰‍♀️👰👰‍♂️👰‍♀️👰‍♀️🤵‍♀️🤵🤵‍♂️👰‍♂️👰‍♀️💍💍💍💍💒💒💒

Later on it just started being mildly discomforting? Ppl were so down bad, that it was a bit too much for me personally lmao 💥

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sofasoap · 8 months ago

Text

Teddy Bear - 3

Pairing: John Price x F! Reader

Summary: Just as you thought he ghosted you.. he turned up.

Warning: M Theme. Angst talk. Canon, what canon? what happend at end of Mw3 never existed, nor happend.

A/N: I was so blocked for .. oh gosh, seven months. and Thanks to @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world, it suddenly unblocked. This is for you, Aunty Bear.

John Price Masterlist

Masterlist

You look at the man standing in front of your door. Stunned that he appeared at your door step in the middle of night.

“Hi.” Oh how you miss his deep rumbling voice.

Why is he here now?

November. Christmas, New Year. February.

Not a single call or text message from him since October.

You sighed after throwing the phone down and curled up in bed. You haven’t heard from John after the night you stayed at his place.

Has he ghosted you? Or has he decided you are too much for him to handle.

You know it was too good to be true.

You tried to move on from this short romance.

But even your niece and nephew can see how dejected you have been since their aunty’s “Furry boyfriend” hasn’t made an appearance for the last few months.

But here he is. With a single rose in his hand, together with a little teddy bear who’s holding a small bunch of flowers itself.

“I am sorry… for going M.I.A for the last few months.” he apologised as he shifted on his feet. “It has been. Quite an ordeal.” he sighed.

“You.. alright? Is everyone alright?” you asked, eyes flitting. His frown seems deeper than usual (your niblings often joke how he can squash a fly between his brows),the fresh cuts and healing scars on his face, the fatigue, as if life has drained out of him.

You immediately notice the way the twitches subtly everytime he moves his left arm.

Shaking your head as you bring yourself out from the whirling thoughts and observation, you realise you are letting an injured man standing in the cold. “Oh how rude of me. Come inside.” You took the flower and the teddy bear off him and stepped back and let him into the flat.

John looked around your cosy little granny flat. A small kitchenette, living room area, and the bedroom just off to the side. Bits of trinkets here and there, and hoards of photos on the wall. Your sister gave you the free reign of making his place yours, with promises that you don’t burn the place down with wild parties.

“Make yourself comfortable on the sofa…. Would you like tea? coffee, or ..” Or me? That silly little joke flashes across your mind but you mentally slap yourself. Not the time to make such a joke, you idiot. “I don’t think you can drink any alcohol with…” you asked as you wave towards his shoulder. He shook his head. “Tea would be fine, thank you.” he replied.

You nodded your head before putting the gift on the small dining table and started the kettle.

You could feel John’s eyes on you as you fret around the kitchenette to put the rose into a little vase and make the tea for both of you. Staring at you. Drinking you in. As if to make up for the last four months that he hasn’t seen you.

You handed him the cup of tea as you sat down beside him. The only sound in the room was the clock on the wall, ticking away as the two of you started sipping on the tea, not knowing how to start the conversation back up again.

“I.. we.” he paused for a second, gripping tight onto the mug as he stared across the room. “It’s been a close call. As you can see.” He laughed bitterly. “We nearly lost.. One of the boys.”

Your breath hitched. John talks fondly of his subordinates. From the one time you met them, they are a lovely (scary, but friendly) bunch The boys are almost like sons to him.

John never went into exact details about what his job entails. You knew he was in the military but he never went any further than that.

“My hands are not clean.”

You cock your eyebrows. “Are you a hitman?”

He chuckled. “Not that sinister. I am in the military.”

“Dangerous job.” you hummed as he nodded his head.

He looked down at his tumbler glass, gently swishing the ice and the whisky around. “But…someone has to do the dirty work.” he mumbled.

“I.. I am sorry to hear.”

You were slightly confused by his response, you remembered. But now, come to think of it, all the dots connect, with how tight lipped John is about his job, the injuries. His previous comments, the little stories here and there the boys told you about during the first meeting, you have guessed they are probably in some sort of elite unit in the army.

Never guaranteed to live until the next mission.

He shook his head, not replying. You reach out to put a hand on his thigh, not quite sure what else to say, or do. Without shifting his gaze, he let go of the grip on the mug and covered your hand with his warm callous hand, seeking for more comfort.

“Stay?” You broke the silence after a while, begging him. Silently wishing he can hear the pleading in your voice. After months of not having heard or seen him. You need him. And maybe, he needs you too. “Stay for the night. Please.”

He slowly turned his head, and looked you in the eyes. The sadness in it. you have never seen him like this before. He is a Captain. The commanding presence. The rock of the team.

Always calm and collected.

But who is the anchor for him when he is lost?

John held tight onto you in his sleep that night, like his life depends on it. Nozzle his head into the crook of your neck. You felt his body finally give in as you gently stroked his hair, occasionally dotting him with kisses. When was the last time he had a peaceful sleep?

“Aunty Bear? OH Furry uncle!!!” The high pitch yelling and something jumping onto the bed startled the two of you awake.

“How.. How did you two get in!” You gasped as you struggled out of John’s iron clamp that held you close all night. “Careful don’t touch John’s arm —” you warned as the two children started to clamber around the poor man.

“Mum gave me the key.” Your nephew pointed out before he turned towards John, who finally let you out of his grasp and slowly sat up. “Mum wants us to wake you up because you are late for breakfast.”

Oh lord. You were glad the two of you are still somewhat… presentable. You in your PJs and John.. in his boxer. At least we are not naked. You also totally forgot you were supposed to make pancake breakfast for your niblings.

“Hello you two little rascals..” Price chuckled, ruffling the two children’s hair. “How have you two been?” he asked in a tired voice.

“Good! Oh… what happened to your shoulder??” Your niece’s smile dropped as she spotted the bandage around John’s shoulder. “Did some bad people hurt you?”

John looked at you, and turned back to the little girl. “You could say that.”

“Does it hurt?” she poke it with her little finger while asking.

“Lizzy, it WILL hurt if you do that.” Her brother warned as he pulled his sister back. Lizzy pouted and turned her attention to John’s chest. “Oh, you got a furry chest too. Just like my dad…”

“Ok, you two, shoo off the bed, and tell your mother I will be over there in ten minutes.” you interrupted and usher your niblings off the bed and out of the room. The two groaned but quickly scrambled off the bed and ran towards the front door.

“Lock it before you leave too!!” You shouted.

“Is that how they wake you up every weekend?” John smiled, as he leaned back into bed and smiled at you.

“Um. Sometimes…” You blushed, and you don’t even know why you are blushing. The two of you slept together before. Well, purely sleeping. Not… in the … intimate sense. And you have seen his chest as well. It’s not like you have not been with men before. “We. um, better get out of bed, the kids seem to be hungry for breakfast.” you fidgeted, trying to cover your embarrassment. “Would you like to .. stay for breakfast? I am very good at making pancakes..And I promise you there will be different berries and even creams to go with it too. And honey, or maple syrup, whichever one you fancy…” you rambled on.

“If it’s not too much of a bother.”

You quickly shook your head. “Never. Never a bother.” you look into his eyes, with sincerity. Hoping he will understand the other meaning behind your words. He slowly reaches out, cupping your face with his uninjured hand, and caresses your cheek with his thumb, before looking down at your lip and back up to your eyes, silently asking for permission, before leaning in to give you a gentle kiss on the lip.

“Thank you.”

“Did you two…..”

“ NO sis, NO.”

“Then what took you two so long then. You said ten minutes…”

“SHUSH.”

Tag list: ( I am just tagging who ever requested to be tagged at the last chapter and also who responded...let me know if you want to be taken off the next chapt's list thank you :) )

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

@homicidal-slvt

@okayyadriana

@cumikering

@siilvan

@devcica

@nrdmssgs

@gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot

@glitterypirateduck

@mmyrrhh

@whydoilikewhump

@crazymela

@makayla-666

@alypink

@merkitty49

@arminarlertssword

@ateliefloresdaprimavera

@roosterr

@okamimarta

@liyanahelena

#call of duty #john price x f!Reader #john price x reader #john price imagine #john price #captain price #sofasoap writes

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luxcuriousao3 · 10 days ago

Text

Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Twelve

Summary: “‘rrrreeetttyyyy…” The mangled word came from deep in his chest, rumbling out in a low, gravelly voice. Lelia’s cheeks grew rosy and she bit her lip, trying and failing to hide a smile. Simon’s hand smoothed over her bare shoulder and down her arm to clumsily play with the delicate pearl sleeve. He could break it so easily—could tear the dress off of her in a second and throw her onto the bed, have her naked and vulnerable beneath him. She would be his to claim. His to devour. Word Count: 3692 Warnings: no smut but Ghost has horny thoughts as usual, mentions of past abuse Notes: This chapter is the last one I have pre-written (well, the last one in order I have pre written, i have some later chapters/scenes written to but I need to write the connecting parts still), and the semester starts tomorrow, so I don't know if I will be able to update again next Sunday. I hope to be able to, but it all depends on how difficult this first week is, and if I can figure out what I want to write next lol. I have ideas/plans but I'm struggling with the execution a bit. If any of you guys have ideas/scenes you'd like to see, feel free to comment them, it helps me organize my own thoughts and is very motivating. Oh, and the dress Lelia finds in this chapter is based off of Padme Amidala's nightgown from ROTS lol. I love that dress. All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider inidcates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

AO3 | Masterlist

Nearly a week had passed, and the snowstorm still hadn’t let up.

Ghost scavenged for supplies everyday, clearing more and more of the village as he did. On the fifth day, he found a cottage that was in nearly perfect shape, with an actual working fireplace. He’d given into Lelia’s begging a few nights ago to try and light a fire in the current cottage they were holed up in, unable to stand seeing her shiver constantly, only to find that it had been sealed off. She had been devastated, but hadn’t complained. The only reason he knew she was still freezing was because she couldn’t keep her teeth from chattering all night. She’d tried to muffle the sound by pressing her face into the fur of the teddy bear he’d found for her the day after she’d told him about the one her ex-husband had thrown away—her face had sort of crumpled in on itself when he presented it to her, but she’d hugged him for hours without letting go, and snuggled with it every night since then, so he was sure she liked it—but it didn’t make much of a difference, not with his enhanced hearing.

But in this new cottage, there was even a clawfoot tub that his dove could take a hot bath in, if they warmed some buckets of water on the wood burning stove first. It was perfect, and he couldn’t wait to show her.

It was dark by the time he got back, though, so the move had to wait until morning. Like hell he’d risk her stumbling around outside in the dead of night. Lelia was none too pleased when he woke her up early to brave the cold, but she followed him regardless, muttering under her breath about ‘stupid zombies and their stupid ideas.’ He tried bloody hard not to laugh when he heard her, knowing it’d only piss her off more.

He failed.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long to get to the new house, though they were both soaking wet by the time they got there, and Lelia was shaking like a leaf from the frigid temperatures. He gestured at the fireplace, silently letting Lelia know it worked. She grinned and rushed over after digging out the matchbook from their supplies and shedding her wet layers, setting about to light the fire, just like he’d taught her. He felt a flush of pride at the sight. His dove was a quick learner.

He stripped his own wet layers before joining her, watching her blow gently on the little flame to coax it higher. The firelight flickered across her delicate features, bathing them in a soft, orange glow.

Fucking hell, he would never get over how beautiful she was.

He grunted in approval when the flames in the hearth began to crackle loudly, and a pleased grin spread across her face. He knew she liked the praise. Made him wonder how she’d react to being lavished with compliments in bed.

Such a good girl for me, Dove, takin’ my cock so well. Look at you, you gorgeous little thing, gonna fuck all the thoughts outta that pretty head of yours, hmm?

Ghost didn’t need to breathe, but he sucked in a rattling breath anyway to clear his head. This was a hunger that he couldn’t satisfy with the flesh of some furry creature. He'd eaten just yesterday—but not before he’d banished himself from the house for a couple days. The blizzard had kept him from being able to hunt before Lelia started looking irresistibly delicious—in a less human way. She’d been loud about her displeasure of having to watch him sit on the stoop of the house like a stray dog, surrounded by snow drifts, white powder covering him in a blanket every morning when he came out of his nightly almost-meditation. But he hadn’t budged, and she hadn’t pushed—though she’d insisted on him joining her in bed last night, layers of blankets between them so she could cuddle up to him.

He hadn’t protested, of course—with a full belly, he’d get as close to Lelia as she let him. She didn’t always want him in the room while she slept, but he no longer took it personally, knowing what he did about her past. Just felt honored when she did pull him close and let sleep steal her away.

Like now, when she laid down on the floor in front of the fire, resting her head in his lap. He didn’t twitch, too well trained to let his surprise show. This was a new position for them. For once, he was glad his cock didn't work. Wouldn’t want to scare her if she woke up to it poking her cheek like an overeager mutt.

He kept his hands planted firmly on the plush rug beneath him—at least until Lelia huffed and grabbed the one closest to her, lacing their fingers together and placing their joined hands on her belly. Simon went very still, but his mind ran wild.

Lelia, no longer skin and bones with a concave stomach, but plump and healthy with a round belly, their child snuggled safely inside her, just below her heart.

Lelia, cradling their baby to her breast as it nursed, a soft, adoring smile on her face as she gazed down at the little bundle of joy in her arms.

Lelia, a toddler in her lap as Simon sat behind her, listening attentively as she taught both of them how to read.

Ghost closed his eyes, trying to rid his mind of the bittersweet images. He never hated that zombies couldn’t sleep more than he did then. If he could, then maybe he'd at least get to live that life in his dreams.

The days settled into a routine, now that he’d found a true place for his dove to nest in and wait out the winter. There was a hiccup when he tried to surprise her with a hot bath one morning, only for her to immediately start sobbing and screaming the second she saw the tub filled up with steaming water. It was worse than the episode with the leather jacket, worse than her panicked state after her nightmare. The terror on her face was closer to that of when he first found her—she’d looked like she thought she was going to die.

It had taken hours to calm her down, and though she hadn’t exactly told him why she’d been so afraid—for as much as his dove liked to talk, she was surprisingly good at keeping secrets—he didn’t need to be a genius to put two and two together. Her wariness of the stream all those weeks ago, her downright fear at the river, and her reaction to the bath… it painted a picture that had him tearing apart his next kill far more viciously than usual, imagining it was the people who hurt her.

Other than that, things were surprisingly calm. The snow storm abated only a couple days after they’d moved into the new cottage, and she could join him again on his daily hunts for supplies. With a more permanent base, he no longer had to say no to the less useful—”They’re not junk, Simon!”— things she wanted to keep. The house was soon filled with little animal figurines, make-up, even small, framed pictures of random people. Lelia liked to think up stories about them. They always ended happily, despite both of them knowing those people had probably died gruesome deaths.

But this… this was new.

A delighted squeal from the room across the hall caught his attention. They had been scavenging for around half the day already, but hadn’t yet turned up more than a single can of soup. Ghost was familiar enough with his dove’s excited noises to know that this one didn’t mean she’d found something useful like food or water, but another pretty thing to add to her rapidly growing collection. Rather than being annoyed, though, he kicked his arse into gear and hustled over to her, wanting to see the happy look on her face for himself.

Except at the threshold of the room, he was met by a shifty Lelia, her hands outstretched to stop him.

“Wait,” she said, as if he wasn’t reeling from embarrassment at being so predictable that she knew he’d come running. Bloody hell, the things she did to him. Had him acting like a school boy with a crush rather than a highly trained soldier. “I want it to be a surprise.”

Simon raised a brow beneath his mask, but backed up into the hallway. Lelia giggled before closing the door in his face. He could hear her moving around in the room, the rustle of fabric, and the soft clack of what sounded like beads.

A moment later, his dove opened the door. Backlit by the weak winter sun streaming in from the window, she was a vision as she stood there wearing a big smile and a dress that made his mouth water.

It wasn’t even all that revealing, but somehow, that just drove him crazier. Pale blue and silky, it left Lelia’s shoulders and collarbones bare, but everything below that was covered. At the center of the neckline sat a swirl of white, glowy metal, so delicate-looking Ghost was sure he’d break it with a single touch. Three strands of pearls were draped over the middle of her upper arms, like useless, sexy sleeves.

“Isn’t it just the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen?” Lelia asked, doing a little twirl for him. He swallowed a hungry growl, but he couldn’t help but reach out to run his fingers over the fabric at the small of her back. His dove jumped, but then went still, looking over her shoulder at him, loose auburn curls spilling tantalizingly over her bare skin as big brown doe eyes gazed at him hopefully. “Do you like it?”

Simon knew he should pull away. Instead, he flattened his palm against the base of her spine as he nodded, staring down at her intensely. He stepped closer, crossing the threshold, and his chest burned with arousal as he remembered the sounds of rustling fabric. She’d been naked just a moment ago, the only thing separating him from her was the thin wood of the door—and he hadn’t even known.

His hand slowly dragged up the length of her back, until it finally met bare skin. Lelia shivered from the chill of his skin, but he could see her nipples were stiff beneath the silk, and her sweet, musky scent filled the air. She liked this. She liked how he touched her. And he knew he could make her feel so fucking good…

“‘rrrreeetttyyyy…”

The mangled word came from deep in his chest, rumbling out in a low, gravelly voice. Lelia’s cheeks grew rosy and she bit her lip, trying and failing to hide a smile. Simon’s hand smoothed over her bare shoulder and down her arm to clumsily play with the delicate pearl sleeve. He could break it so easily—could tear the dress off of her in a second and throw her onto the bed, have her naked and vulnerable beneath him. She would be his to claim. His to devour.

With a grunt, he lowered his hand and stepped away, cock aching even though it didn't so much as twitch in his trousers. Christ, this was the worst fucking case of blue balls he’d ever had, and he couldn't even rub one out to make it better.

He was still half tempted to try.

Lelia’s face fell a little, but she quickly recovered, giving him a sheepish, slightly strained look. She said something about needing to focus on finding supplies, then shut the door in his face. The sounds of her getting undressed reached his ears, and he swiftly walked downstairs so he didn't try to take a peek.

Back at the house, Lelia wiped herself down with a clean rag, a bar of soap, and a bowl of water heated on the stove. There were several layers of towels piled below her on the toilet’s tiled floor, as she couldn’t bear to stand in the tub even if it was empty. She had to work quick, as the air was chilly even with the fireplace lit, as she didn’t want to catch a cold. Even a little case of the sniffles could spell her death in this new world.

Washing her hair was the worst part, and she always saved it for last incase it sent her into a panic. She took a deep breath, screwed her eyes shut, held her head over the sink—not the tub, never the tub—and dumped a second bowl of lukewarm water over it. She kept her lips clenched tightly together as the world went foggy, but when she finally let out a breath, unable to hold it any longer, she began to calm when water didn't suddenly rush into her mouth and fill her lungs.

With shaking hands, she worked a little bit of the rose-scented shampoo she’d found through her locks, careful to conserve as much as she could. Who was to say when they’d stumble upon another bottle? Especially one that made her hair all shiny and soft like this one did.

Lelia sighed and mentally prepared herself for the second rinse. Once it was done, she wrapped her wet hair up in a fluffy towel and dried her body off with another before changing into an oversized set of flannels she’d designated as her sleepwear after finding it a week ago. She was tired of sleeping in dirty clothing. She was tired of wearing dirty, ugly clothing in general—she’d picked up a few new shirts and even a new pair of jeans since she and Simon had truly settled into the village, but none of them were her style. Not until the dress today.

Lelia blushed at the memory. She’d been so excited to find such a stunning piece of clothing—but even more so to model it for Simon.

His reaction had taken her breath away. For some reason, the feeling of his bare, cold skin against her own had made her feel hot all over. And the way he’d looked at her…

It had been similar to the way he looked at her when he hadn’t eaten in too long—but not quite the same. There was something more human to it. She almost thought it might have been lust, but there was no cruel glint in his eyes. Lelia had learned that that always came hand in hand with a man’s desire.

The shameful part was that Lelia would have welcomed it. The aching emptiness inside her got worse everyday. She was anxious most of the time now, even more so than usual. Like she was just waiting for someone to stumble across her and take away her choice again. She thought perhaps that was the crux of it—she couldn’t truly bring herself to believe it would never happen again, and so her body was making her crave it. It was telling her to get it over with and have sex, so at least for once, it would be her choice.

None of that made her feel like any less of a whore, though.

Lelia sighed, moving over to the bedroom door and knocking on it to let Simon know she was done. He always hid himself away in there when she bathed, so she could keep the toilet door open and let in the heat from the fireplace. The first time she’d done it, he’d tried to wait outside, but she hadn’t let him. Just because he didn't feel the cold didn't mean he needed to get soaked through with snow.

A moment later, Simon stood in front of her, eyeing the towel on her head warily. She giggled a little. Simon had found out the hard way that her hair was wrapped up in it—she’d fallen asleep with it on, and he’d tried to pull it off to her, only to wake her up as she yelped in pain. He’d been horrified, but once the instinctual fear left her, she’d just found it funny.

She’d also enjoyed him cradling her in his arms and gently petting her hair for an hour straight, like he was trying to apologize to the very strands themselves.

Lelia took Simon’s hand and led him over to the couch, picking up her poetry book and sitting down on the soft cushions. Simon piled several blankets on top of her before joining her, throwing his arm over the backrest so she could curl up against his side.

She paged through the book before she found the poem she’d been looking for. Reading to Simon had become a part of their daily routine since that first time, and they’d gotten through the little book twice now, including the poems in Russian.

The only ones she hadn’t read to him were her own.

She paused, looking up at Simon. He tilted his head in a silent question. She raised a hand to tap her fingers nervously against her lips, but then spoke.

“Would you… would you want to hear a poem that I wrote?” She asked, voice whisper-quiet. “None of mine are very good, but at least it will be something new…”

Simon let out a grunt of agreement, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners and he leaned in closer to her, eager. Lelia blushed, turning back to the book and then flipping to a new page.

“This one is called Springtime,” she started, but then stopped, embarrassment already creeping up on her. She set the book down and pulled the towel off her head, tossing it on the floor and beginning to fiddle with her damp hair. “It’s stupid, I should just read one of the real poems, you don’t want to hear this drivel—”

Cold fingers gently gripped her chin, turning her to face Simon. Lelia’s heart skipped a beat and she looked up at him with wide eyes. He lightly shook her head, like he was trying to shake some sense into her, before letting go. He pointed at her, then at the book in her lap, and then her again. The message was clear. Read the damn poem.

Lelia had never heard Simon swear, but some of his frustrated growls sounded suspiciously close to curses, so she figured that he would if he could.

“It’s very short,” she continued trying to stall, but when Simon growled at her, she raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! I’ll read.

“Into the abyss of love we dove,” Lelia recited, cheeks already bright red, “headfirst; there was no sun for you are my sun. My love, my vision of springtime.

“I told you it was bad,” Lelia muttered, refusing to look at Simon as she burned hotly with humiliation. She’d written it after watching a particularly sappy romance film, when her head was still full of dreams in which the man she married would cherish her rather than destroy her.

“No. Ss’ggoood,” Simon said. He was getting better at speaking—or maybe Lelia was just getting better at understanding him. “Lll— llliike iit.”

Lelia was quiet for a long moment, picking at her cuticles. Simon shifted next to her, placing a hand on top of hers to halt the anxious habit. She let out a deep breath, taking his hand in hers.

“Do you really think so?” She asked softly as she played with his fingers. They were still cold, but they weren’t nearly as stiff as they used to be. They were almost as quick as hers, nowadays.

“Mmmm,” Simon hummed, the sound throaty and a little off-putting. She knew that meant he was trying to soften the noise for her, and her lips tugged up into a small smile. Simon cupped the back of her head with his free hand, and guided it to rest against his chest as he pet her wet hair. Her breath caught in her throat, and he stilled, but she quickly snuggled into him, not wanting him to stop. “Ss’ggoood, Dddoove.”

“I’ve never shown anyone my poems before,” she admitted in a whisper, staring at where their joined hands rested in his lap. “You’re the first.”

Simon’s petting paused for a moment before starting up again, and Lelia realized that she’d surprised him. She huffed a laugh, wiping away an unwelcome tear. It was just that there was a reason no one had ever heard her poems—no one had ever cared enough about her to want to.

Lelia lifted her head, gazing into Simon’s cloudy eyes. The shadows from the flickering fire almost made it seem like there were swirls of onyx dancing in the white irises. Lelia couldn’t help but think that the color suited him.

“You’re the first person to make me truly happy, too” she confessed, voice soft. “I wish I had met you before—” before the world ended. Before you died. Before I was forced to marry Andrew and a part of me died, “Well. Before everything, I suppose.”

Simon stroked her damp hair, and she could see the skin around his eyes tighten and his jaw quiver, a sign that he wanted to say something but wasn’t able to with his limited words. She just smiled at him, reaching up to cup his cheek, absentmindedly using her flannel to wipe away a bit of drool.

“It’s alright,” she soothed him, before yawning and laying her head on his chest once more. She snuggled even closer to him, so she was half in his lap, the fire in the hearth keeping her warm despite Simon’s lack of body heat. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Simon grunted, frustrated, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her into his lap fully. She let out a pleased sound, letting her eyes flutter shut. She was just on the cusp of sleep when he finally spoke, the words making her smile even as they escaped the grasp of her memory.

“Yyyouu are… eeerr’rryy… thhhiinnng… ttoo… ‘eee…”

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oddinary4bts · 4 months ago

Text

Always Been You | hhj

☆ summary : when two estranged best friends meet again at their friends' wedding, an old spark reignites. You swear to yourself that you won't fall for Hyunjin again, until alcohol blurs the line between you two. Is it your fault if you find yourself drowning in the familiarity that is him?

☆ pairing: Hyunjin x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (technically 13+? There is no smut just lots of fluff)

☆genre: best friends to strangers to lovers, idol!au; fluff, some slight angst

☆warnings: mention of cheating, Hyunjin be a ghost, alcohol consumption

☆word count: 18.7k words

☆a/n: Sooo, yes I do write for both stray kids and bts. I really love this fic and I hope you guys will love it just as muuuch✨ enjoy your reading! Also I wrote this 2 years ago so obviously my writing has changed a lot but I hope you still like it!!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Prologue – five years ago

The smell of fresh rain on pavement filled your senses as you walked, legs moving in almost a half jog as you made your way to Hyunjin’s place. The hot summer air was rendered colder by the rain, and you quickened your pace as the rain doubled up.

It was unlike Hyunjin to invite you over at this time of the night, so unlike him that you had found you couldn’t say no. It was true that you had… sort of avoided him for the last week. Ever since Hangyeol had asked you out and you had said yes, to be precise.

The distant rumble of thunder had you moving into a quick sprint, right as Hyunjin’s house came into view. Though you loved the summer storms, you knew better than to stay outside when lightning was cutting through the sky.

You ran to the door, grabbing your phone to text Hyunjin that you were there. Though it was unnecessary, as the door immediately swung open in front of you.

“Hey”, Hyunjin said, moving aside to let you walk in.

“You better have a good reason for making me come here in this weather”, you said as a greeting, while Hyunjin shut the door behind you. You took off your shoes to put on slippers, before turning to look at your best friend.

“Let’s go to the playroom, I don’t want my parents to know you’re here.”

You furrowed your brows – the Hwangs had known you for a few years now, and had always liked you.

“Why?” you asked, unable to help yourself.

Hyunjin seemed to fidget for a moment, clearly uncomfortable under your gaze.

“What’s wrong with you?” you enquired, brows knit together.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, and he ran a hand through his hair anxiously.

Oh. So this was about Hangyeol.

“Let’s go to the playroom”, you repeated his words, walking around Hyunjin towards the sliding door that led to the small inner court of the house. The playroom was on the other side of the small court, and it sort of was your usual hang out spot with the rest of your friends.

You both took off your slippers as you stepped outside, grabbing them in your hands before you ran to the other side of the court as the storm had finally hit. Once you got into the playroom, you dried your feet on the carpet near the entrance, before putting your slippers back on and heading into the room proper. You sat in the L-shaped couch, Hyunjin’s foot tapping on the ground as you looked at him and an awkward silence filled the air around you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked once you couldn’t bear the silence anymore.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Hyunjin blurted out.

“I haven’t?”

“Oh.”

Another silence moved in the room, only interrupted by the tick of the clock on the wall.

This was unlike you. So unlike you that you felt dread moving through your blood.

“There’s something I need to tell you”, Hyunjin eventually said, his eyes meeting yours.

You pursed your lips, biting the inside of your bottom cheek. “What’s up?”

His foot started moving even faster, as he ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, even though you were starting to understand where this was heading to.

Hyunjin let out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know. Jihoon-ah forced me to do this.”

As Hyunjin fell silent, you tilted your head to the side. “Do what?”

He looked away, his eyes falling on the painting that you had made with the rest of your group of friends a few months before. “I know you’ve started talking to Hangyeol. And before it’s too late, you need to know that I have feelings for you.”

He punctuated the end of his declaration with your name, uttered in a whisper that barely even reached your ears. It had the effect of a cold shower on you, and a stunned silence was all you were able to offer him.

“I… I know I’m a trainee and I don’t really have the time to… to give you what you deserve. But please don’t go with Hangyeol. He’s the worst.”

“You don’t get to tell me not to be with Hangyeol”, you let out. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Hyunjin gulped, wetting his lips. “Because he’s going to treat you like shit. He cheated on his ex.”

“They were together for two weeks, they barely even were a couple”, you said, your tone raising. “Why do you care?”

“I told you. I have feelings for you, I don’t want to see you get your heart broken.”

Little did he know that his words were breaking your heart right now. “Jinnie, you don’t get to tell me you have feelings for me. I moved on from you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“A year ago? At Seonhwa’s birthday dinner”, you said, trying to explain, but not really wanting to.

Not when he was fidgeting twice more in front of your eyes, and you felt as if he was slipping through your fingers.

“I was dumb”, he let out. “But now that you’re graduated I thought…”

“What did you think?” you asked. “That I was going to crawl back to you?”

You didn’t know why you were as angry as you were. All you knew was that the more he looked distressed, the angrier you were growing.

“You’re my best friend, nuna, I’m not talking about crawling just… I’ve been a trainee for a year now and you’re always there to support me… I was stupid last year.”

“Fuck that, you asked me to just be friends and we are now, why are you screwing that up?”

“Why am I? You’re the one who decided to pursue Hangyeol”, Hyunjin spat, his tone finally meeting the venom in yours.

You scoffed. “Hangyeol already asked me out and I said yes, Jinnie, it’s too little too late.”

A stunned silence met your words, as Hyunjin just looked at you, lips slightly parted in surprise.

Not the positive kind of surprise.

“Don’t look at me like that”, you said, crossing your arms on your chest as you glanced away. Looking at that painting, and at the memories that it held.

“You’re dating him?” he asked, voice small, after a few more seconds of silence.

You sighed deeply, slightly shaking your head. “I am. You’re just my best friend, Hyunjin-ah, and that doesn’t have to change…”

“I don’t want to watch you get played by fucking Hangyeol, of all people.”

“Then you should have been honest to me before!” you exclaimed. “You shouldn’t have waited until I was with someone else…”

“I didn’t think you’d be with someone else! I thought… I thought we’d figure it out.”

“Fuck that, we had nothing to figure out, you’re just my best friend”, you said, repeating your earlier words.

“I know, I got it”, he said, shutting his eyes as he clenched his jaw. “No need to repeat it.”

“It hurts, uh?” you said bitterly. “To be told that.”

He glanced at you, though his eyes avoided your gaze. “Can you please just calm down?”

You scoffed. “Calm down? Please, you made me come here at midnight to tell me that you have feelings for me when I’m already dating someone else, what were you expecting?”

“Not that, honestly.” He finally met your gaze, and your heart broke at the pain in his eyes. “Not that at all.”

Your mouth fell open as you tried to find a retort but came up short. All you could think about was the way your heart was constricting in your chest, and the fact that you couldn’t quite breathe.

“Let’s take a few days to think about it”, Hyunjin said. “Just please consider it.”

“I won’t”, you said. “I don’t need to think about it, I’m perfectly happy with Hangyeol.”

“You barely know him.”

“And now you’re making me feel as if I barely know you. Did you really think I was going to wait for you? You said you wanted to be friends.”

He wet his lips again, his eyes scanning your features. “I needed time, I guess.”

“It was too long”, you said, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s getting late, I should go home.”

He breathed your name. “Please stay. Let’s just talk it out.”

You shook your head. “You’re the last person I want to talk to right now. Just leave me and Hangyeol alone.”

“So, you’re just going to drop our friendship like that?”

“No, I won’t. We’ll pretend tonight never happened and things will go back to how they were before.”

“I told you I don’t want to see you get your heart broken”, he said, voice small.

“Who says I’m going to get my heart broken?” you asked. “Just give him a chance.”

Hyunjin remained silent for a while, holding your gaze. You found you couldn’t quite read the expression on his face anymore, and it scared you shitless.

“If that’s what you want.”

*****

Present day

You stood behind Seonhwa, your hands a little clammy, as Jihoon was reading his vows.

Your friends’ wedding was a grand affair, one you had been expecting for quite some time now, as the two of them had been dating for what seemed like forever now. As the maid of honour, you had helped to prepare the wedding for months and to see everything going on perfectly felt quite gratifying.

Though, the sight of Jihoon’s best man made you feel… strange inside.

Hyunjin was dashing in his suit, blond hair styled in a man bun, piercing gaze moving from the couple to you every once in a while. Each time your eyes met, you felt as if your heart had forgotten how to beat.

You hadn’t seen each other in… well, years now. Though you had remained friends after that dreadful fight, you had lost touch as Hyunjin had debuted and grown distant with the whole group of friends. Or just you, apparently, if he was still Jihoon’s best man. An information Seonhwa had kept from you.

The ceremony moved on, and you tried to pay attention to it, ignoring the old ache in your chest every time Hyunjin looked at you.

You had been best friends, once. Until you had started dating your ex, and Hyunjin had confessed his feelings for you in the hope that you were not going to pursue your relationship with Hangyeol. Which honestly would have been the right thing to do, had you known any better.

Things had changed after that, and you had lost Hyunjin on your birthday the year he had debuted. He had ghosted you, actually. Had said he was going to meet you at the restaurant and had never shown up. Never answered any of your texts after that either.

Losing him had been sour, but back then you had Hangyeol, and you were happy with him. Or rather you had thought that you were happy.

After the ceremony, you moved into the reception hall, as your friends had decided to have a reception, a rare thing in Korea. The hall was a wide room decorated with plants and tall chandeliers, a room that looked straight out of a fairytale, if you were being honest. Especially with the soft fairy lights that were illuminating the place, and the crystal centerpiece that laid on each table. A long rectangular table held the presents that had been gifted to the bride and groom, even though most people had gifted money. Another long rectangular table was waiting for you all, at the end of the room.

Well, for Seonhwa, Jihoon, Hyunjin and you. The old squad, reunited after years apart.

“Have you talked to Hyunjin yet?” Seonhwa asked in ushered tones as you walked arm in arm towards your seats.

“Focus on your husband”, you reprimanded, though your eyes trailed to Hyunjin’s back.

“I can’t believe I’m married”, Seonhwa let out, looking down at the ring on her finger.

You chuckled, but you didn’t have time to talk more as you made it to your seats.

Soon enough, food was distributed, and you started eating, as the chatter of the guests filled the room with a euphoric buzz. Once dinner was over and the speeches were said, music replaced the conversation, and dancing ensued. You remained aside, looking over the evening, making sure that everything went smoothly, from the cake to the pictures.

As the night advanced, you found your maid of honour duties to finally be over, leaving you with… nothing to do but to watch the people partying and drinking. Soon enough, you found a glass in your hand, and you too indulged into the alcohol, as you watched Seonhwa and Jihoon partying as if there was no tomorrow.

“Hey”, a voice said beside you, and you didn’t have to look at the person to know who it was.

“Hey”, you let out.

You didn’t speak for a time, watching as your friends fell into a slow dance as a ballad replaced the lively beat that was playing a moment before.

“How… have you been doing?” Hyunjin asked.

You steeled yourself before glancing at him. He was much more beautiful up close, especially in the dim light. He looked… ethereal.

“I’ve been great”, you replied, politely, before your eyes moved back to the couples on the dancefloor. “How have you been doing?”

“Great”, he said. “I… it’s crazy to think that Seonhwa and Jihoon are married, uh?”

A small smile moved on your lips. “It is. We always knew that they were going to marry, though.”

“We did. Didn’t we make bets about it?”

You met his gaze again, your smile widening at the memories that filled your mind. “We did. You said they would have a kid before they married, didn’t you?”

Hyunjin chuckled. “I did. Seems like you won the bet.”

Eyes sparkling, you nodded. “I have. What was the winner supposed to get?”

“Wasn’t it a lifetime supply of bungeoppang or something of the sort?” he said.

“That, and the painting in your parents’ playroom.” You laughed as Hyunjin’s eyes widened.

“Right. Not our best work, though”, he said.

You shrugged. “You’re the only one of us who actually knew how to paint, it was to be expected.”

“You got paint all over my mother’s carpet”, Hyunjin recalled. “I had to buy a new one before she noticed.”

You laughed as your eyes moved back to your friends. “You didn’t want to move it, it was your fault.”

“Mmh, maybe”, Hyunjin let out, nodding slightly. “At least she didn’t notice.”

“Do you remember when we burned it? It smelled so bad!”

“It did.” He nodded as he put his hands in his pockets. “We were lucky we weren’t caught.”

“We really were. I think your mom would have hated me forever”, you said, a pensive look taking over your features as you recalled his mother.

You hadn’t seen the woman in forever.

“My mom has always loved you, she wouldn’t have batted an eyelash.” He shrugged as you met his gaze, an eyebrow cocked quizzically. “Trust me, as long as she hadn’t thought me responsible, we would have been good.”

“Right.”

Silence moved around you, and you took a sip of your glass.

“How’s work going?” he asked, words aimed to fill a silence you knew he wasn’t comfortable in.

“Great! I mean, I’ve published my first book”, you said shyly, avoiding his gaze.

He wet his lips. “I know, I’ve read it.”

Your eyes widened as you looked up to meet his gaze. “You have?”

He chuckled at the look on your face. “I rather liked Chung Hee. He kind of felt similar.”

You knew you had turned completely red when he started laughing.

“I… uh… right”, you let out, fumbling on your words. “I hope you didn’t mind.”

“No, on the contrary”, he said. “I liked it. Chung Hee and Cha Young’s ending was better than ours, though.”

“I didn’t want to write a book with a sad ending”, you said, your eyes falling to the glass in your hands.

“I… I missed you, Y/n.”

It was the raw truth behind those words that had you looking up at him again.

“I’m sorry for how things happened. I was a shit friend.”

“It’s okay”, you said, voice small. “I’m over it, now.”

He nodded once, before looking away, as the ballad ended and was replaced by another lively beat.

“You were right anyway”, you added after a time.

“About what?”

“I… assume Jihoon and Seonhwa told you about what happened with Hangyeol?” you asked.

He pursed his lips, before nodding. “Yeah.”

“So, at the end of the day, I probably should have listened to you”, you said, shrugging your shoulders. “But it’s all in the past now.”

He nodded once again. “It is. But I shouldn’t have acted the way that I did. I know it was a long time ago, but it sucked.”

“The night we fought, or when you ghosted me?” you asked, a tiny bit of venom seeping into your voice.

“Both. Mostly the ghosting, though. It was childish.”

It was strange to see how Hyunjin had matured. You didn’t quite feel like he was the teenager you had known, and you rather saw the adult in him. The man he was becoming every day.

“It was. But I’m not angry at you anymore. Being angry over stuff like that is a waste of time”, you said. Voice soft, because you wanted to reassure him. Wanted to relieve him of the heaviness that suddenly seemed to be plaguing him.

“You’re being too kind”, he let out, before sighing. “I don’t think I deserve your forgiveness.”

“Then why have you come to talk to me?” you asked, voice small.

He looked at you, scanning your features for a while before he spoke. “I wanted to apologize. When I saw you earlier… all the memories came flooding back. I don’t like the person that I was then, and I hate that I treated you the way that I did.”

“It’s okay, Jinnie, it really is. I’m over it now.”

His lips spread into a soft smile. “You’re as great as I remembered you to be.”

You chuckled slightly. “I’m the best, I know.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, don’t start with that.”

“The door was wide open, of course I had to start.”

He laughed lightly, his eyes sparkling for a moment. Your heart stuttered in your chest, and you took another long sip of your drink to calm yourself down.

“We should hang out again”, he said. “You could come to my next concert. You always said that you were going to be my number one fan.”

A soft smile moved on your lips. “Oh, I’ve been following your journey through the K-pop industry, don’t worry about it.”

“Have you now?” He smirked and you chuckled.

“Of course. Just because we had a falling out doesn’t mean that I didn’t want to support you.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You know, a small part of me always imagined you cheering in the crowd. I’m glad I was right.”

You let out a loud laugh. “I’ve never been to any of your concerts, to be fair.”

You hadn’t been able to, even if you had gotten tickets twice.

“All the more reasons for you to come to the next one. We have one here in Seoul next week.”

“I’ll gladly come if you introduce me to Changbin”, you said, winking at him.

He scrunched up his nose as if in disgust. “I’m not even your bias?”

“Nah, you lost that privilege after you acted like a dick.” You shrugged, but mischief still lit up your gaze. “Besides, I’m more into Bangtan anyway.”

“Right, you already were into BTS back in high school”, he said, laughing. “But if I’m not your bias, then I don’t think you can come to my concert, unfortunately.”

It was his turn to wink at you.

“Your loss, then”, you said. “I have much better stuff to do anyway.”

“Of course you do. Like writing about me in a book.”

“Please, Chung Hee was merely inspired by you. I just used some of our stories.”

“Like that time we sneaked in the principal’s office.”

“Precisely like that.”

“And when you were sick because of some seafood and I had to take care of you.”

A blush crept on your cheeks. “You really read the book, did you?”

“Twice, actually. Seonhwa made me read it when she realized it was about us.”

You shook your head. “It isn’t about us. We never ended together.”

The silence that followed filled with tension as Hyunjin looked at you, his gaze intense with emotions you hadn’t expected to find there. Didn’t want to find there either.

“We indeed haven’t”, he said after a time. “Maybe… maybe we could try being friends again, though?”

It was hopeful, and it was what you wanted the most. Because talking to him right now had reminded you of what it had been like to have him in your life. The familiarity with which you interacted… you needed it, really. More than you imagined.

“I would like that very much”, you said, nodding slightly. “I miss your mother’s cooking.”

Hyunjin burst out laughing. “Of course that’s what you think of.”

“You can’t blame me, her kimchi is legendary.”

“I’ll ask her to make a batch for you, I’ll bring it at the concert.”

You grinned. “You better, if you want me to consider you as my bias.”

“Nuna, we both know I’ve always been secretly your bias.”

“Right.” You chuckled, glancing at the people around you.

Strangely enough, talking with Hyunjin made you feel … alone in the world. As if it was just you two, and you had an eternity in front of you.

“How have your parents been doing?” Hyunjin asked, the question taking you by surprise.

“Great! Awesome, really. They spend half the year in Toronto now, and my brother has gone back to Canada full time.”

“Oh, he has? He never really adapted to Seoul, didn’t he?”

You shrugged. “He was older when we came here so I guess… I guess it was harder for him? He was in his last year of high school and he barely was able to make any friends.”

“Yeah, I remember. You were always concerned for him.”

You nodded. “Still am. Though he’s engaged now, and they are expecting a child.”

“Adoption?”

“Yeah! Funnily enough, his boyfriend is Korean, but they met back in Toronto.”

Hyunjin chuckled. “Awesome. He couldn’t fully escape Korea, couldn’t he?”

You laughed lightly. “Who can blame him, even I am in love with the Korean people, and you know how I hate people.”

Hyunjin laughed, before smirking. “Of course you are. That’s why I was always your favourite in high school.”

“You’re aware that everyone but me was Korean, right?”

He shrugged. “I still was your favourite, wasn’t I?”

You looked up, as if deep in thoughts. “Mmmh, I think I’ve always liked Jihoon better.”

“How scandalous, now that he’s married to Seonhwa.”

“I shall live my life in the regrets of never having told him he’s the better part of our group of friends”, you said, hand on your heart.

Hyunjin grinned goofily. “What a sad life.”

“At least I’ve got you as a consolation prize”, you said, winking at him as he furrowed his brows.

“Do you really, though?”

He winked as you pursed your lips to keep from smiling.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Always”, he said, cocking an eyebrow. “Especially if it annoys you.”

You chuckled, as silence moved around you. Though it was not an awkward silence. It felt comfortable with the familiarity that you always had had for each other… and you found you rather quite enjoyed it. Rather quite enjoyed that time and distance hadn’t changed you one bit. Even after the ache you both had caused the other.

“Do you want to dance?” Hyunjin asked, and your eyes widened slightly.

“I can’t dance with you, you’re a professional”, you replied quickly, as a small blush crept on your cheeks.

He shrugged. “Please, that’s never stopped you before.”

“You were barely a trainee back then, it doesn’t count”, you mumbled, as your heart raced in your chest.

He held out a hand for you, a small smile on his lips. Your eyes fell to his fingers, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight tremor of them.

So, he was anxious, too.

“Your loss if I step on your feet”, you finally said, grabbing his hand lightly, skin barely touching because you didn’t know if you’d be able to really hold him.

Not when your heart seemed to be dancing to its own beat now, a beat you didn’t know was echoed in his own chest too.

Hyunjin led you to the dancefloor, right as a song ended and a new one began. A wide smile spread on your lips as you realized it was a BTS song.

“Too bad they haven’t put any Stray Kids in the playlist, uh?” you said.

Hyunjin threw a puzzled expression your way, before leaning forward.

“What?” he asked.

You moved a little closer, so you could talk directly in his ear. “I said too bad they haven’t put any Stray Kids on the playlist.”

Hyunjin chuckled, and his warm breath tickled your ear as he moved even closer to speak. “That would have been a tad awkward, no?”

“Mmh, you could have shown us some of your choreographies, I’d say that would have been a win for all of us.”

He laughed once again, and you shut your eyes. The proximity of him… it felt so natural, and yet wrong. Wrong, because he had just barely come back into your life. You didn’t want to risk losing him by doing something stupid.

“Come to my next dance rehearsal. Then you can see me dance.”

He pulled away, just enough to look into your eyes.

“I’ll even introduce you to Changbin.”

Your cheeks once again tinted with pink. “That would be awesome.”

“But first, show me your moves, nuna.”

You chuckled, before downing the rest of your glass. “I hope you’re ready for a disaster.”

“It would never be a disaster with you.” He winked at you, and you shook your head as you rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t remember you being a flirt”, you said, but before he could say anything else, Seonhwa threw her arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

Seonhwa drunkenly said your name in your ear, making you laugh lightly. “Dance with me.”

And just like that, Seonhwa pulled you away from Hyunjin, and the two of you started dancing together, laughing as you moved along to the music.

“You’ve been talking to Hyunjin-ah”, Seonhwa said as you spun in a circle.

You chuckled. “I would have continued if you hadn’t pulled me away from him.”

“I’m just waiting for the next slow song so I can push you back in his arms.”

You shared a laugh, before you looked down at the glass in your hand.

“I should go put that down somewhere before I drop it here and there’s glass everywhere.”

“Well, come back quickly, I asked for a slow song next”, Seonhwa said. “I’m not letting you avoid Hyunjin any longer.”

“I’m not avoiding him, you literally pulled me away from him”, you grumbled, glancing over her shoulder to meet Hyunjin’s gaze.

He smiled and you smiled back, though Seonhwa caught your attention once again.

“He’s been talking about you, you know”, Seonhwa let out, voice barely above a whisper.

The only reason why you heard was because the song ended, and the promised ballad started.

“You told him to read my book”, you said reproachfully.

Seonhwa shrugged. “Yeah. It didn’t take a lot of convincing, he had already bought it.”

Your eyes widened. “He had?”

“You seem to forget that you were best friends once.”

“He ghosted me”, you reminded your friend.

Heads started turning your way as your tones became more vehement, and as you stood unmoving in the middle of the dancefloor while people slow-danced around you.

“Because he couldn’t see you with Hangyeol”, Seonhwa explained. “Surely you were aware of that.”

“We were just friends”, you said, gaze flickering around at the few people that were looking at you.

Seonhwa didn’t know about your fight. Unless Hyunjin had told her, but she had never mentioned anything…

“You never looked at him as if he was just your friend.”

You clenched your jaw. “It’s your wedding, let’s not talk about this.”

“Y/n…” Seonwha let out, but you were already walking away.

To where, you didn’t know. All you knew was that you had to get away.

On your way out, you put your empty glass down on a table, not once looking back to see if someone was following you. There was a garden outside, and you walked to the middle of it, where you found a small gurgling fountain next to which you sat, eyes moving up to the starry night sky.

You took a deep breath to calm down the wild beats of your heart, as you scolded yourself. For causing a scene at your best friend’s wedding, mostly. But for also thinking that everything between you and Hyunjin could be fixed by a simple conversation.

You had to remind yourself that you didn’t know him anymore. And no matter how much you had missed him, he had still been the one to ghost you. On your birthday, of all moments. Were you ever going to be able to forgive him for that?

The answer to that came to you far quicker than you thought it would, as the shuffling of footsteps was heard over the gurgling of the fountain. Your gaze moved towards the path from which you had come, down which Hyunjin was now walking. Towards you.

He looked even better under the light of a thousand stars, if that was possible.

“Are you okay?” he asked, walking closer.

His hands were in his pockets, and he looked the perfect picture of nonchalance. As if everything that was in your past didn’t matter anymore.

And truly, maybe it didn’t.

“Yeah, sorry”, you said, looking down at your hands in your lap. “I needed a breather.”

“Can I sit with you?” he asked as he stopped a few steps in front of you, as if not wanting to invade your privacy.

You nodded, patting the stone bench next to you. “Yeah, come here.”

He smiled, and soon enough he was sat next to you. Almost close enough for your thighs to touch, and the space between you felt alive with electricity.

“Don’t listen to Seonhwa”, Hyunjin said after a moment of silence. “She really wanted to set us up tonight.”

“What?” you let out, bewilderment filling your entire being.

He chuckled lightly. “Seonhwa is a busybody, and she has taken it upon herself to set us up. She said we should have always been together.”

“She didn’t tell me that”, you admitted. “I… She knows we’re not even friends anymore.”

Hyunjin seemed to tense next to you. “And that’s my fault. I’ll forever hate myself for it.”

You scanned his profile as he was looking down at the ground in front of his feet.

“But I’ve matured”, he added after a time. “And I don’t want to live my life without you in it.” He looked up to meet your gaze. “You were my best friend, Y/n. You still are.”

“Hyunjin-ah…” you let out breathlessly.

“I’m serious, it fucking sucks without you around.”

Silence met his words, as the echoes of them seemed to fill the air around you.

“Seonhwa really shouldn’t interfere in stuff that doesn’t concern her”, you eventually whispered.

He chuckled. “Yeah, indeed.”

Another few beats of silence passed, as you just exchanged a long look. A look that conveyed more than words ever could.

“I’ll come to your dance rehearsal and your concert, Jinnie. It fucking sucks without you in my life too”, you finally said.

The warm smile that grew on his lips put the stars to shame. “I would love that. Let’s be friends again.”

“Let’s please be”, you agreed.

He wet his lips, as his eyes twinkled with emotions. The same emotions he could see in your own eyes, you were sure of it.

“You look beautiful, by the way”, he breathed. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I didn’t really know how to approach you.”

You blushed, looking away from him. “Stop it. You aren’t usually one to compliment me.”

“It’s a new friendship, let’s set different rules for it”, he said, shrugging. “If you want.”

“You… just friends, right?”

He nodded. “I can’t offer you more anyway.” He paused, as you remained silent. “Not that you would want more, but you know what I mean.”

You almost said that you had wanted more since that day he had confessed to you, but you kept it in. Because it wasn’t entirely true, and your mind was just drowning in the softness of the moment.

“I do.” You nodded, a small smile growing on your lips.

And even though your heart seemed to beat steadier when he was next to you, you knew that you would be content in being just his friend. It was better than not having him in your life anyway.

*****

You bit your bottom lip, as anxiety moved through your blood. You had been anxious ever since you had gotten to the dance rehearsal, even more as Hyunjin had introduced you to the seven other band members. Who all seemed to know who you were already, and you didn’t quite know what to make of it.

You were currently at JYP entertainment’s studios, a place you had never expected you’d visit one day. The room in which you were was wide, with mirrors along one of the walls, in front of which the boys had been dancing for a while.

That also meant that you were hearing one of their unreleased songs on repeat, and you had had to sign an agreement not to record anything. It had all been very awkward, and you almost regretted coming. Especially after you were told you would have to sit in one corner of the room, from which the camera that was filming them couldn’t see you.

You hadn’t realized what being friends with Hyunjin was going to be like until you were sat in that corner.

“Fuck”, Hyunjin cursed as he plopped himself down next to you.

You looked at him as he wiped the sweat on his brow.

“I’m sorry I barely can talk to you”, he apologized. “I didn’t know we were going to be recorded today.”

You shrugged. “It’s okay, it feels like a private show.”

And it kind of did, but mostly it felt as if you were stuck in some kind of a dream.

You didn’t know if you liked it.

“Hope you enjoy it”, Hyunjin said, smiling as he took a deep breath. “It wouldn’t be so damn long if we didn’t keep messing up.”

“You’re the one messing up”, Changbin said as he stopped next to you two.

You looked up, meeting his gaze for half a moment before looking away.

You didn’t know what Hyunjin had told Changbin about you, but he was the member that had spoken to you the most ever since you had gotten here.

“We don’t usually have spectators”, Hyunjin said, shrugging.

You chuckled. “You perform in front of crowds all the time.”

“He’s been anxious about you being here”, Changbin admitted, and Hyunjin sprung to his feet.

“Shut it”, he said, pushing Changbin playfully as the guy laughed.

“Just being honest.” Changbin shrugged, and you chuckled as you watched Hyunjin’s cheeks turning red.

“Don’t listen to him”, Hyunjin said, meeting your gaze.

He held out a hand for you to take and you grabbed it as he pulled you to your feet.

“They’re just jealous that I’ve got a pretty girl coming to see me”, he added, winking at you as Changbin burst out laughing.

You knew you had turned beet red, but you tried to play it cool.

“So you think I’m pretty, uh?” you teased as you let go of his hands. “Too bad I really came here to see Changbin.”

Changbin’s eyes widened as he looked between the two of you. “Don’t bring me into this.”

“Who can blame you, Changbin’s the best of us”, Felix said as he threw an arm around said boy’s shoulders.

You laughed lightly, glancing at Hyunjin as you felt the weight of his gaze on you. He was smiling softly, and it warmed you inside.

Felix said something to Changbin that you couldn’t hear, and a second later the two boys were walking away, leaving you alone with Hyunjin.

“Do you like the new song?” he asked after a moment.

You nodded quickly. “Oh, it’s really good. I’m going to have it stuck in my head for a while now though.”

“The perks of hearing a song on repeat for hours on end”, Hyunjin said, laughing. “We should be done soon though.”

“No pressure, I have nothing to do today anyway.”

“Then if you want, I can give you a tour of the studios after?” he suggested, running a hand through his half-undone hair.

Though he had tied his hair back, dancing had caused him to be quite disheveled… and yet he still looked so effortlessly good.

It was unfair, really.

“Sure, I’d love to”, you accepted. “Only if we get something to eat too, I’m starving.”

Just on cue, your stomach grumbled, earning you a laugh from Hyunjin.

“Of course I’ll get you something to eat.” He undid his half bun, blond hair falling around his face.

You just watched him in awe as he tried to pull it back into a new bun, but failed to do so.

“Do you need help?” you asked, chuckling, as a few strands of hair escaped the bun.

“Honestly, I think I do.” He handed you the hair tie, before turning around.

You hoped he couldn’t feel your hands shaking as you raised them and ran them through his hair, once.

“You’ll have to bend down, you’re too tall for me”, you said, voice small.

“Right.” He obeyed, and you once again ran your hands through his hair.

It was silky soft, just like you remembered it, even though it was sweaty. You skillfully tied it back, massaging his scalp for a little before taking a step back.

Ignoring the way you could see Minho and Han looking at you and speaking in ushed tones.

“Thanks, nuna”, Hyunjin said as he straightened and turned to look at you, blocking the view of his band mates. “I’ll have to go back now, but we shouldn’t be long still.”

You nodded, pulling on the dry skin of your bottom lip. Hyunjin’s eyes dipped down to your lips, and you felt your cheeks burning.

Though they had been burning for a while, now, in all honesty.

You heard Hyunjin taking a deep breath before he turned around and walked away, leaving you standing there and feeling awkward.

You clearly couldn’t manage that friend thing at all.

You sat back down, fiddling with your fingers as the music started playing once again, and they went through the choreography a few times.

That distracted you from your thoughts… until you realized you were paying way too much attention to the way that Hyunjin was moving his body. It was then that you grabbed your phone instead of paying attention, because really you didn’t think you could trust your thoughts anymore.

You scrolled on Instagram while the boys practiced, not even realizing that the music had stopped until someone grabbed your phone out of your hands.

“Hey!” you let out.

“What are you doing?” Hyunjin asked. “Are we boring you?”

You scrambled to your feet, trying to grab your phone from Hyunjin’s hands, but he put it over his head, out of your reach.

“No, give me my phone”, you grumbled.

“Instagram is better than our dance rehearsal?” he asked as he looked up, scrolling on your phone. “Wait, were you really watching edits of us?”

“Give me my phone”, you begged as you tried to get to it.

He looked down at you, and you only then realized how close you were standing. Only then realized that you had put one hand on his chest to try to get to your phone.

You didn’t move for a time, only holding each other’s gaze. You looked between his two eyes, breath coming up short, until you glanced down at his lips.

That seemed to startle him out of the trance you had been in, and he took a step back, which almost made you stumble forward.

“Here”, he said, cheeks red and you grabbed your phone, a shot of electricity running through your arm as your fingers touched.

“Thanks”, you breathed as you looked down at the device to turn it off. “Are you finished yet?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I can give you a tour now. Unless you want to eat first.”

He looked behind him, which had you looking at the other members too.

“I think the boys are going to get a bite and some drinks now, so it’s really up to you”, he said.

His eyes found yours again. “I… I don’t mind, do you want to go with them?”

He chuckled. “As long as you’re with me, I don’t mind what we do.”

You blushed, chuckling lightly. “Well then, we can go with them. If they don’t mind, that is.”

“Of course they don’t mind”, Hyunjin reassured you. “They’re going back home, though.”

“Right, you all live together”, you said.

He nodded. “Yeah, so I can give you a tour another time, maybe?” He scratched the nape of his neck, tilting his head to the side. “If you’d like that, of course.”

“Yeah. Yes, definitely.” You looked at Bang Chan, who was walking towards you.

“So, are you guys coming?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’ll be right behind you”, Hyunjin replied.

“Don’t be too long, we’re starving.” Bang Chan smiled at you, before meeting up with the boys at the door. They exited the room, leaving you and Hyunjin alone, as the staff had already left too.

“Thank you for coming”, Hyunjin said. “I really am sorry I couldn’t talk to you more.”

A smile grew on your lips. “It’s fine, Jinnie, at least we’re hanging out now.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. And you’ll be happy to know I have some of my mom’s kimchi at the dorm.”

Your eyes lit up as you grinned. “This is the best day of my life.”

His lips spread into a smile too, and he nodded towards the door. “I can get you some of that bungeoppang too. Since you won the bet about Seonhwa and Jihoon.”

“Right, I had forgotten about that”, you said, laughing lightly. “Let’s do that. You’re going to have to give me that painting too.”

“It’s in my room, just leave with it”, he said, smiling. “It’ll be missed dearly, though.”

“Wait”, you said, eyes widening. “You brought it to your dorm?”

He wet his lips, nodding. “Yeah, how else was I supposed to remember where I came from?”

“A weird way to keep you humble.”

He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “The dorm needed decoration anyway, so I figured why not.”

“Right.” You chuckled. There was a silence, during which you just looked at each other. You didn’t like the way that it made you feel inside, but you couldn’t stop looking at him. “Should we go, before the members leave without us?”

“I’ll grab my stuff, hold on.”

You watched as he jogged to the other side of the room, where he had left a duffel bag with god knows what in it, as he hadn’t even touched it. You followed him as he aimed for the door, turning to look at you.

“I’m really happy you came”, he said, a soft smile lighting up his eyes.

“That’s what she said”, you joked, and Hyunjin burst out laughing.

“I really fucking missed your childish jokes”, he said as you left the room.

You grinned wickedly. “Happy to provide with your daily dose of bad jokes.”

He laughed, eyes crinkled with his smile. “Hopefully you won’t start with puns again.”

“Seonwha has always been better than me with puns, don’t worry about it.”

You continued chatting for a while, falling back into your usual familiarity, all tension gone from the conversation. You made it to the dorm as you talked and joked and laughed, as if no time had passed between you. As if you still were kids in high school, with no responsibilities and worries in life.

It was healing, really. To be with him like that again.

And even though you hadn’t known his band mates before today, they all were welcoming too. Warm, even, though they all seemed to be keeping some sort of a distance. It had you wondering what Hyunjin had said about you, and you figured it was better if you didn’t know.

After you all ate – Hyunjin’s mom’s kimchi was as good as you remembered – you sat in the living room of one of their dorms, drinking soju and beer and chatting about everything and nothing. The boys eventually started playing Smash on a switch, and you found yourself sitting on the couch, between Hyunjin and Changbin. The latter was sitting really close to you, and the heat of his body made you feel… strange inside.

All the stranger, because each time you looked at Hyunjin he had a knowing smile on his lips.

Was he trying to set you up with Changbin?

“Should we invite Hayoon and her friends?” Bang Chan said from where he was laying on the floor.

“You want a consolation prize because I’ve just beaten your ass in Smash?” Felix asked.

Bang Chan threw a pillow at Felix, and the group laughed.

Only you seemed to have noticed that Hyunjin had tensed next to you.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Seungmin asked. “Didn’t she have sex with Jinnie last week?”

That explained Hyunjin’s tensing. Your eyes widened slightly, and you glanced at Hyunjin as the boy seemed to want to disappear through the floor.

“Shut up, Seungmin”, Hyunjin grumbled.

There was a silence, and Bang Chan, Felix and Seugmin turned to look at Hyunjin. The latter’s eyes widened as he glanced at you, before resuming his attention on Hyunjin.

“Sorry bro”, Seungmin let out.

There was another awkward silence, only interrupted by the music of the game on the television. Bang Chan eventually scraped his throat, before handing his controller to Jeongin.

“Should we play another round?” he asked. “Who hasn’t played yet?”

Though you hadn’t played, you remained silent, sipping on your beer instead. You had never been quite a fan of beer, but you had assumed that drinking would help ease your nerves. It seemed you had been wrong.

Or maybe realizing that Hyunjin had an entire side to him that you didn’t know of was making you feel anxious.

“Do you want to play?” Changbin asked you, voice low so only you could hear.

You blushed slightly – talking to one’s bias was definitely not an easy feat.

“I’m trash, I don’t think I should play”, you replied and he chuckled.

“It doesn’t matter, we’re just playing around”, he reassured you, smiling softly.

You nodded once. “Alright then, I guess I can play.”

Changbin handed you the controller he was holding and you put your beer down on the coffee table in front of you. You sat back in the couch, glancing once at Hyunjin, who was looking down at the bottle he was holding.

“Do you know how to play?” Changbin asked.

“She’s just going to press all the buttons and call it a day”, Hyunjin said from beside you.

You stifled a laugh and you turned your head towards him.

The small smile on his lips reassured you in ways you couldn’t quite yet understand.

“And what about it?”

He laughed and you smiled softly, before turning back towards Changbin.

“I’ll be fine, I don’t care if I lose”, you said and Changbin chuckled.

“Jeongin is good, so you were probably going to lose anyway.”

You all laughed, and then started playing the game. You chose the Wii fit trainer as your character, which led to you being unable to stop laughing during all the fight, and of course Jeongin beat your ass. Though you couldn’t even stop laughing afterwards, especially not when Hyunjin played next and won against Jeongin, by playing with said Wii fit trainer.

You kept on playing for a while, and soon enough your mind was buzzing with alcohol and you felt far more comfortable with all the boys. It helped that Hyunjin was being a little sassy shit, and you and Changbin teamed up against him, teasing him to no end.

It was one hell of a great night, if you were being honest to yourself.

“How did you guys meet?” Changbin asked later that night, after Felix, Minho, Seungmin and Jeongin had gone back to their own dorm.

Bang Chan had disappeared in his room a while ago too, but Han was still with you, playing Smash online. He was currently winning his fourth game in a row.

“His first day of high school”, you said. “I was showing his class around the school and he started talking to me because he wanted to know where I was from.”

“And you had a tea and you dropped it on me, don’t forget”, Hyunjin recalled, tone teasing. “You’re lucky it wasn’t hot anymore.”

“You’re the one who ran into me, dumbass”, you said, laughing. “Wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been looking at me like that instead of looking at where you were going.”

“I was following you, of course I was looking at you! You just stopped dead in your tracks.”

“Mmh”, you let out.

You both turned towards Changbin, who had followed your exchange with slightly widened eyes.

“That’s cute”, he said as you just looked at him.

You all chuckled and then Han cheered, gaining your attention as he won his fifth game in a row.

“I’m on fire tonight baby”, he said, and Hyunjin high-fived him before sitting back in the couch.

“You’re only winning because you’re not playing against one of us”, he said.

Han turned towards Hyunjin, an offended look on his features. “Fuck off, Jinnie.”

You all started laughing, and then Han handed Hyunjin a controller.

“If you think you’re so good, then try to win against me.”

“I’ve drunk way too much for that”, Hyunjin admitted, shaking his head no. “Though I’d take another beer.”

You chuckled, feeling pretty drunk yourself. “I think we drank everything you guys had.”

“This is the end of the world”, Hyunjin said, putting a hand on his heart dramatically. “We’re all going to die.”

“Shut up, loser.” You laughed, punching him playfully in the shoulder.

Though you were still sitting closer to Changbin, the space between you and Hyunjin once again filled with electricity. As it often did now.

Hyunjin grabbed your hand, a smirk moving over his features. “We should play against each other. I’m pretty sure I’ll beat your ass.”

“Anyone here could beat my ass”, you complained. “Why would I play against you?”

“If you win I’ll let you sleep in my bed”, he said, head tilting to the side. “I’ll take the couch.”

You furrowed your brows. “Who said I’m sleeping here?”

Changbin chuckled from beside you, as if aware of what Hyunjin was planning. Because clearly, he was up to no good.

“I did”, Hyunjin replied, shrugging. “I won’t let you walk home so late.”

Brows still knit together, you grabbed your phone to check the time. “Oh shit.”

Han laughed as he threw you a look over his shoulder.

“So, you’re staying tonight”, Hyunjin declared. “And you get the bed if you win against me.”

“I’d say yes if I were you, Y/n”, Changbin said from beside you. “Chan’s room is close and he snores loudly, you don’t want to have to sleep in the living room.”

You glanced at Changbin, before returning your gaze to Hyunjin’s. “It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.”

His smirk only widened. “Well then, why don’t we head to bed? I’m tired.”

Right on cue, he yawned, which in turn made you yawn too. Changbin and Han remained silent, as if aware that you two needed privacy for a moment.

“You promise to stay on your side of the bed?” you asked softly.

“Of course, nuna”, he replied gently, his smirk melting into a soft smile. “Shall we?” he asked, getting up and extending a hand out for you to take.

You did, entwining your fingers, before glancing at Changbin.

“It was nice to meet you”, you told him, before looking towards Han, who had started another game. “You too, Jisung.”

“Nice to meet you”, the two boys echoed, and you got up to follow Hyunjin to his bedroom.

Strangely enough, it felt as if your heart was going to burst in your chest. And not because you were happy, but rather because you were becoming more and more anxious with every step you took. You could feel Hyunjin’s hand shaking in yours, so you knew he was feeling exactly the same way.

What was wrong with you?

You walked into Hyunjin’s bedroom, and the boy closed the door behind you as you took a few steps forward in the cool darkness of the room. Red LED lights turned on, and you spun around to look at Hyunjin.

You looked at each other in silence for a time, until your eyes scanned the room, landing on the painting that was hung over his bed.

“I can’t believe you’ve put it on display like that”, you murmured, right as Hyunjin moved farther into his room, sitting on the side of his bed.

“It holds great memories, how could I not?” he whispered.

You walked to his side, sitting next to him, as he looked at his hands in his lap.

“I know we have barely started to talk again…�� you started, putting your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you to pull you closer. “But I’m really happy to be here with you.”

“You have no idea how happy I am too”, he replied, putting his head on top of yours. “You remind me of before.”

“Before what?” you asked curiously.

“All of this”, he said, motioning with his other hand to your surroundings. “Sometimes I forget that I wasn’t always an idol… and I miss it. I miss when life was simpler.”

You pursed your lips, moving a little closer to him. “I miss it too. Not when you weren’t an idol, because to me you haven’t changed, but when we used to make memories every day. Those are the best memories of my life.”

“Even when I accidentally burned some of your hair with your curling iron?”

You chuckled, smiling fondly at the memory. “Even that. All of it, if I’m being honest.”

Though you had looked quite weird for a time, as the strand of hair hadn’t grown back in over a year.

Hyunjin sighed and you looked up at him, pulling away slightly so you could gaze into his eyes.

“We were stupid, weren’t we?” he asked.

It was your turn to sigh. “We were young. Stupidity and youth often go hand in hand together.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “We’re still young, you know that, right?”

You nodded. “We’re not teenagers anymore, though. So, we’re a little less stupid.”

“I wish I still was stupid”, he murmured, as his eyes dipped to your lips.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you became all too aware of every inch of him that was touching you. “Please don’t”, you breathed.

He slightly nodded before getting up and moving away from you. “You’ve never dated after Hangyeol, have you?” he asked as he started rummaging through a drawer.

The change of subject had the effect of a cold shower on you. “No. Well, yes and no. I went on a blind date once, but it didn’t go well.”

“Mmh”, he let out, as he got an oversized white sweater out of the drawer. He threw it at you and you caught it, looking at him quizzically. “So, you don’t sleep in your clothes.”

“Oh”, you said. You looked down at yourself, and then at his unmade bed. “You still don’t make your bed.”

He chuckled, and when you turned to look at him your mind went completely blank.

He had taken off his shirt without you realizing.

You blushed, looking down at the sweater in your hands, as your heart went crazy in your chest. You heard him putting on a shirt more than you saw him, and you didn’t look up until he moved closer to you.

“There’s a bathroom outside of my room. First door to the right, if you want to get changed in private.”

You nodded, before getting up. “You’re sure you don’t mind me sleeping here?”

He smiled, cocking an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say it isn’t our first time sleeping together anyway?”

You rolled your eyes, before moving around him to head to the door. “Right, never mind.”

His laugh followed you out of the bedroom, and you went to the bathroom, where you changed, hands trembling slightly at the thought of putting on some of his clothes.

Just like when you were younger.

You moved back to his bedroom when you were done, only dressed in the oversized sweater, which rested around the middle of your thigh. Not something you would have worn in public, but it would suffice for sleeping.

Hyunjin was already in bed, scrolling on his phone, when you walked in. He glanced at you, and quickly looked away as you put your clothes down on the chair of his desk. He had put a wall of pillows in the middle of the bed, and you laughed as you moved closer.

“Did you really do that?” you asked, sitting on the left side of the bed.

He looked at you from his side. “I figured you wanted your privacy.”

You smiled softly. “How kind.”

You settled down under the covers, turning to face Hyunjin. You pulled down one of the pillows until his face came into view.

“I like the LED lights”, you said. “Gives the room a chill vibe.”

He looked around, before resuming his attention on you. “It does. Red is better when you go to bed anyway.”

You furrowed your brows.

“Something about your brain producing melatonin”, he said, shrugging his shoulders – which proved to be awkward in his position.

“Right”, you nodded.

You looked at each other for a time, until you looked away. Holding his gaze was becoming far too difficult when he looked at you like… that.

“You keep your hair tied back when you sleep?” you asked, trying to change the subject.

Change it from what, you didn’t know.

“Ah”, he let out. “I don’t.” He sat up, untying his hair.

It fell around his face, and he put the hair tie on his night table before lying down again.

“Can I play with your hair?” you asked, unaware that you were going to ask until the words had crossed your lips.

It was hard to tell in the red light, but you were pretty sure he had blushed.

“You’ve always loved to do that, have you?”

It was your turn to blush, and you really did hope that the red light was hiding it.

“Your hair is really soft”, you explained, or tried to, because really you had no idea why you had asked in the first place.

He moved closer, turning around so you had access to the back of his head.

It was easier to breathe when he wasn’t looking at you, you realized. That was until you started running a hesitant hand through his hair, and he sighed as you massaged his scalp.

“I think the part I missed the most about us is this”, he whispered, and you chuckled.

“I thought you missed my jokes”, you said, teasing.

He laughed. “Nothing beats you playing with my hair.”

“Not even when other girls do it?” you asked, as your fingers paused their dance in his hair.

He didn’t reply for a long time. “You heard what Seungmin said, uh?”

“Well, it was hard not to hear it, he yelled it”, you said, tone… hesitant, really. Because you didn’t know why you were bringing that up.

It wasn’t like you cared, no?

“I don’t date, if that reassures you”, he said. “But… I’m not against casual sex.”

You resumed playing with his hair. “Do you do that a lot?”

You would have given a lot to be able to look him in the eyes as you had asked the question.

“Not particularly”, he replied. “I don’t do feelings and relationships, so…”

“Because of the clause?”

He chuckled, and it sounded bitter. “Not really. The clause has never really stopped anyone.”

Your heart picked up its pace as the words settled in. “Then why don’t you?”

“I…” he let out, before pausing for a long time. So long you almost thought he was never going to reply. “I’ve never really met anyone that I’ve liked enough to consider that.”

You almost gulped, as your fight echoed in your mind, even though years had passed since then.

He hadn’t met anyone after you, he meant. You were convinced of it.

“I’m sorry”, you breathed.

“Don’t be, it’s not like I really have time to date anyway”, he said.

He turned on his back, glancing at you as your hand hovered next to his face. “Why didn’t you date after your ex?”

You turned on your back too, hand moving away from him, though the silky ghost of his hair still played on your fingers.

“It didn’t really end well, as you already know”, you whispered. “It’s been hard to trust anyone since then.”

Though he was unaware that most of your trust issues came from when he had ghosted you.

“I wish I would have been wrong”, he said gently. “You didn’t deserve the way he treated you.”

Your heart ached in your chest for a moment. You remembered the fight, and how he had warned you about Hangyeol… Ever since Hangyeol had told you he had been cheating, you had often found yourself wondering. Wondering what would have happened if you had listened to Hyunjin. If you had decided to give him a chance, back then.

A part of you wondered if you would have been like Jihoon and Seonwha.

“Nobody deserves to be cheated on”, you said, shrugging it off. Because you didn’t want him to remind you of just how much you had screwed up.

“Yeah.”

You fell silent, looking up at his ceiling, until he turned to look at you. It took you a while to look at him too. Your eyes fell to the mole under his left eye, and you pursed your lips.

“We should go to sleep.” Your words were barely above a whisper, and he slightly nodded.

“We should”, he agreed. “Thank you for coming today.”

“Thank you for inviting me, Jinnie.”

You exchanged a soft smile, until you yawned once again.

“I’ll take that as a cue to turn off the lights”, Hyunjin said, chuckling. “Good night, nuna.”

“Good night”, you replied, sighing as you nuzzled your face in the silk of your pillow. The room fell dark, the echo of the red light playing against the sudden darkness. “Stay on your side of the bed.”

He laughed lightly, the sound the last thing you heard before falling asleep, far quicker than you had in a while now.

*****

You woke up with a pounding headache, feeling way too warm for your own good. You kept your eyes shut for a while, apprehending the moment you’d open them… until you realized why you felt so warm.

And no, it wasn’t because you were wearing a sweater.

Your eyes fluttered open, breath catching in your throat as you realized that Hyunjin was pressed against you, face nuzzled in your neck as you were laying on your back. His arm was on your stomach, and his soft breathing indicated to you that he was still very much so asleep.

Asleep and cuddling you, for God’s sake.

You didn’t move for a while, breathing in the scent of him as his proximity filled your nose with the fragrance of his shampoo, and maybe some cologne he had been wearing last night. His hair was tickling your face, and you slightly turned it away from him, though you didn’t quite feel like putting any sort of distance between you.

Not when he seemed so peaceful.

As your heart raced in your chest, you hoped that he couldn’t hear it. Really fucking hoped, otherwise you were afraid it’d wake him up.

You took a steadying breath as you shut your eyes once again. His room was still dark, so there was no use to getting up. Especially not when he was close to you like that, and it felt as if no time had separated you at all.

You wondered what he would think, if he were to wake up right now, so close to you you could feel his chest moving every time he took a breath. You liked to think that he would be happy. That, maybe, he had done it on purpose, and not while he was sleeping.

It was a dangerous thought to have, when your friendship was still so precarious. So close to falling off the edge, you felt… threatened. By him. By the thought of him and his words and the way he was still looking at you after all these years.

Best friends indeed.

Hyunjin’s arm tightened around your stomach, and he pulled you even closer. Too close for your own comfort. Where the hell was the pillow wall anyway?

“Everything alright?” Hyunjin whispered, startling you.

“You’re not asleep?” you asked.

He chuckled, deep sound reverberating through his chest. “I was.”

He made no move to move away from you, and you felt yourself relaxing, even if the proximity of him… it was a danger. A threat to your own sanity.

“Seems I’ve crossed the pillow wall”, he whispered against the skin of your neck, and the feeling of his lips on you made you lose your mind.

“Hyunjin-ah…” you breathed out, heart beating out of your chest.

“I’ll go back to my side”, he said. Though he didn’t move for a time. As if waiting for you to ask him to stay.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t ask him that, knowing just how dangerous it was to let him in like that. He had broken your heart without a single ounce of regret, hadn’t he?

Though maybe you had been the one to break his heart in the first place.

The weight of his arm lifted from your stomach, and you almost whined at the loss of contact. It scared you shitless.

He moved away, and the bed suddenly seemed very cold. Though the cold came from within, and you were all too aware of it.

“I’m sorry I cuddled you like that”, he said after a moment of silence.

“Oh”, you let out. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

In fact… you were disappointed. Disappointed that he had moved away, and you hadn’t asked him to stay close.

You rather liked to have him so close to you like that.

“Good.” He yawned, and you glanced his way, though you couldn’t quite see him in the darkness. “Good night”, he added a few seconds later, and his breathing evened out, indicating that he had already fallen back asleep.

You almost were jealous of it, as you knew sleep would avoid you for the rest of the night. Especially since your heart was still racing in your chest, and it didn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon.

Fucking hell.

*****

The next few days passed in a weird anxious blur, with you and Hyunjin not seeing each other except that morning after you had slept in the same bed. He texted you a lot though, more than you had thought he would, and it really felt as if no time had passed. As if you were still the same Jinnie and Y/n, and really you loved every second of it.

Especially as you finished the first draft of your second novel, and submitted to your editor a week in advance. Not a big win, but something you were proud of nonetheless. It seemed you had found your inspiration back, and you were no fool.

You knew it was all thanks to Hyunjin.

The day of the concert came far quicker than you had thought it would, and you stood in front of your closet for a long while, not knowing what to wear at all. You still had Hyunjin’s sweater, but you didn’t feel it was… appropriate, for a concert. Especially not when Hyunjin had posted pictures of him in that sweater in the past, so fans could connect the dots between you.

Something you didn’t want happening, as you were just friends.

Instead, you chose a short black skirt, that you paired with a white t-shirt, along with black converse shoes. It was a cute yet simple outfit, that you paired with your lilac purse.

You curled your hair, putting on a bit of make-up too. Just eyeliner and mascara, as you had to get to the venue in advance. Indeed, Hyunjin had invited you to the soundcheck during the afternoon, and you didn’t want to miss it for the world.

You made your way to the concert venue with public transport, mind filled with memories of you and Hyunjin back in the days. Mostly, you thought about his parents, whom you hadn’t seen since before he had ghosted you, and whom you had already appreciated, as they had always made you feel welcomed under their roof. You wondered if Hyunjin would invite you over for dinner, and you thought maybe you should suggest it to him.

After all, he had been the one to invite you to the dance rehearsal earlier this week, and to the concert today. It was only fair if you tried to plan something now.

You made a mental note to talk to him about it when you would get the chance today, as you got out of public transport to walk the rest of the distance to the venue. You texted him that you were there, and he told you to meet him at a garage entry, which proved to be a lot harder to find than you had expected.

After fifteen minutes of searching, Hyunjin called you on your phone, clearly wondering what was taking so long. You picked up the call, unable to hide the annoyance from your voice.

“Where the fuck is the garage?” you asked and he burst out laughing.

“You know where the front doors are?”

“Yeah”, you let out.

“Turn left from there. It’s on the other side of the building, but that’s the quickest way to get there.”

“I’ll be there soon. But please stay with me”, you begged, as you quickened your pace to make it back to the front doors.

“They’re expecting me in five minutes, so be quick”, he said, voice sounding far from the phone. “I’ll hide so they don’t find me here.”

You chuckled, as you neared the corner of the building. “I’m almost back to the front.”

“I’d meet you there if I wasn’t afraid to be seen by fans”, he said.

“It sucks to be famous, does it?” you teased him.

Though a crowd of fans came into view, which surprised you, because the doors didn’t open until seven tonight. But then again, you also had arrived early to all the BTS concerts you had gone to, so you didn’t blame Stray Kids’ fans for doing the same.

You walked around the crowd, picking up your pace even more as Hyunjin sighed.

“They’re calling my name”, he whispered in the phone. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“I’m not going to start running, that would be suspicious”, you said. “Hold on, I’m almost there.”

Soon enough, you finally found the garage, and Hyunjin walked out of where he was hiding, though you could barely call it a hiding spot. The crew hadn’t really searched for him if they hadn’t seen him standing behind the bus.

“Hey”, he said, hanging up the phone as you came into view.

You jogged towards him, and you quickly hugged, before walking in the building.

“This place was far too hard to find”, you grumbled as Hyunjin led you down a hallway.

He chuckled. “I’m glad you made it though. Tonight’s going to be fun.”

As he smiled at you over his shoulder, you felt your cheeks burning. It was going to be fun indeed, especially since she was going to be with him.

Well, not when he was going to be on the scene, of course. But the rest of the time yes.

You followed Hyunjin down a few hallways, almost jogging behind him as he was walking far quicker than your small legs could allow you. He laughed at you, and you playfully pushed him.

“You’re annoying”, you said.

“You’ve got tiny legs”, he countered-back.

You squinted your eyes at him in annoyance. “The concert has better be good if you made me come here just to insult me.”

He chuckled, eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked at you. “Our concerts are never bad, nuna.”

You moved into a wider room, where people were running around, trying to get everything ready in time for the concert.

“Hyunjin-ah!” a young woman said as she stopped next to you. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere, the others are already on the scene.”

“Sorry, I was waiting for her slow ass”, he apologized, pointing to you.

“Hey!” you let out, and you moved to punch him but he jogged out of your reach, before turning around and winking at you.

“I’ll be back soon, don’t miss me too much”, he teased, and then he was gone.

You just stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what to do. The young woman who had talked to Hyunjin hadn’t moved, and she looked between you and the place where Hyunjin had disappeared.

“So, you must be Y/n”, she said, as her eyes finally settled on you.

You nodded, though a slight blush crept on your cheeks. Had Hyunjin told everyone about you already?

“I’m Yuna”, the girl said. “Nice to meet you.”

You bowed at the same time, as you echoed Yuna’s last words.

“I’m Hyunjin’s hair stylist”, Yuna continued. “I was supposed to dye his hair before the soundcheck.” She sighed, and you only then noticed the hair product Yuna was holding.

“I can help you with that after, if you want”, you suggested.

Yuna’s eyes lit up. “That would be really helpful.”

“I’d be glad to help”, you said, smiling. Though a tiny part of you knew why you had suggested…

Goddamn it, were you really jealous of his hair stylist?

As you waited for Hyunjin to finish the soundcheck, you moved closer to the stage, though you didn’t really have a good view of it from backstage. A crew member told you that there were going to be TVs later, which was a relief, but you still managed to catch a glimpse of the boys as they sang a couple of songs, just to make sure the mics were well tuned and that everything was going to go smoothly later.

Once Hyunjin came back, along with the others, you stood to the side to let everyone pass, as Hyunjin was the last one in the line. He stopped next to you, a little out of breath and smiling widely, and truly he looked so happy it almost made your heart burst right then and there.

“Excited for tonight?” he asked.

You grinned back at him, unable to hold your smile in when he was looking at you like that. “Yes. But now we’ve got to get your hair dyed.”

He nodded, and you walked back towards the main backstage room. “Yeah, my hair is going red for tonight.”

“Ooh, can’t wait to see”, you said, chuckling. “I’ll help your stylist because I was the one to cause the delay.”

Hyunjin smiled, and his fingers brushed the back of your hand as you walked towards the chair where Yuna was waiting for you. The feel of his fingers against your hand had your heart missing a couple of beats, and you quickly pulled your hand away, pretending to put your hair behind your ear.

You were blushing again, for God’s sake.

“Yuna looks pissed, doesn’t she?” Hyunjin whispered as you walked, and you chuckled, though it sounded more like you were choking on air.

You really needed to get a hold of yourself when you were around him. You barely were friends again, and there you were letting your heart betray you like that.

“She does”, you said after a few more seconds of silence. “She probably hates me.”

“Nobody can hate you, nuna”, he reassured you, gently nudging you with his elbow. “Except when you’re being a little shit, then I do hate you.”

“Jinnie!”

You laughed as you punched him in the shoulder.

“You’re even worse than you were before.”

“Oh, you’ve barely seen anything”, he said, chuckling, as you finally reached Yuna’s side.

Yuna got up from the chair, motioning at it with her hand. Hyunjin sat, and soon enough she had a towel wrapped around his shoulders to make sure no dye got on his shirt. She then handed some gloves to you, and you put them on as Hyunjin carefully watched you in the mirror in front of him.

“What?” you asked as you grabbed some of the product.

“Careful not to get some in my eyes”, he said, winking at you.

“Just close your eyes and let us work”, Yuna said, patting him on the shoulder.

The familiarity of the move made you twice as jealous as you already were. You swallowed down the feeling, though it had a vile taste.

You really didn’t like how you felt around Hyunjin.

You all fell silent as Yuna showed you how to apply the product, and soon enough you got to work, as Hyunjin scrolled on his phone. As if he too sensed the awkwardness in the air. Or maybe that was just you, and you were being jealous for absolutely no reason.

With the help of the hair stylist, you dyed Hyunjin’s hair red, using a towel to prevent from putting some dye on his face, though the dye was said to be washable with water. Soon enough, Hyunjin’s hair had turned a bright shade of red, and the hair stylist sauntered off after having rinsed the little dye that you had accidentally put on the nape of his neck.

Hyunjin turned towards you as soon as the stylist left, a wicked smile on his lips.

“How do you like it?” he asked.

“What?” you let out.

He rolled his eyes. “The hair, dumbass.”

“I know, I was just teasing you.” You winked at him, and then made a good show of looking at his hair. Though he looked really fucking good, you weren’t going to tell him that, no? “It suits you well, though it’s a really bright color, is it not?”

He shrugged. “It’s just for the show. It’ll wash off tonight in the shower.”

“My hard work, gone so soon?” you said, putting a dramatic hand over your heart.

“You’ll just have to do it all again at the next concert”, he said, chuckling.

Though you didn’t miss the way his cheeks slightly tinted with pink.

“I can’t make it to all your concerts”, you said, scanning his features.

His face slightly fell, but a make-up artist stopped next to him, and he couldn’t reply.

The make-up artist began by putting blue contacts in his eyes, before applying some make up on his features. You carefully watched, trying to ignore the weird tingle in your heart every time the make-up artist brushed her fingers against his face.

Really, it wasn’t normal for you to feel like that. That thought kept spiralling in your mind for the whole concert, so much so that you found you couldn’t quite enjoy it. No, panic was slowly gaining a hold of you, and you didn’t know what to do with it. Didn’t know if you should accept that, after all these years, your feelings towards him hadn’t changed at all.

It was terrifying, really, even if he seemed to display those same feelings. He had broken your heart three times – when he had asked to just be friends, when he had told you about his own feelings, and then when he had ghosted you. You would be a fool to let him in this time, just because the timing seemed… better.

You pushed the thoughts aside when the concert finished, even though they kept haunting the far back of your mind. It was nothing a bit of alcohol wouldn’t numb anyway.

You returned to the dorms after the concert, along with the other members. They all seemed over energetic, and buzzing electricity moved through the whole group as they sat around the kitchen table, eating what you considered to be a literal feast.

It was easy to be with Hyunjin in a setting such as that one. He was a friend, and not… whatever else he could be when you were alone. Which was a relief, because those thoughts really weren’t that far. Even after all the soju that you had drunk while eating.

And it was fun. A buzzing kind of fun, the fun that came when one had their mind swimming with alcohol. Not enough to reach the point of no return, but just enough to reach… this feeling. This euphoria that was gaining control of you with every laugh and smile.

The members of Stray Kids truly knew how to have fun, behind close doors. And they also really knew how to make someone feel welcome. Really, you almost felt as if you had always been friends with them, as if they were all part of that friendship you had shared with Hyunjin. And maybe that was the reason why you were so comfortable – because they were Hyunjin’s closest friends, like you had once been. Like you wished you would be again someday.

“Nuna”, Hyunjin said, moving closer to whisper in your ear.

Everything in you stopped at once, and you hoped he didn’t notice the way you had stiffened next to him.

“What?”

“What do you think about Changbin?” he asked.

Your eyes trailed to the man in question, and you exchanged a small smile before you resumed your attention on Hyunjin.

“Why are you asking?”

“Do you like him?” he asked, once again moving close to you so he could whisper in your ear.

Your brows knit together. “I barely know him.”

“Would you like him?” Hyunjin asked again, speech slightly slurred by the alcohol.

You almost died right on the spot when Hyunjin’s lips brushed your ear as he spoke. You ignored the looks the other members were throwing at you as you focused on the space between you and Hyunjin.

There really wasn’t much space, wasn’t it?

“Why do you want to know that?” you enquired, voice breathy.

“You…” he let out. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Hyunjin-ah”, you breathed as he once again brushed his lips against the lobe of your ear. You slightly moved out of his reach, though you leaned to whisper in his own ear. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know”, he let out, and your eyes shut as he sighed, and the warmth of his breath brushed the skin of your neck.

You slightly turned your face towards him, no longer in control with yourself. All you knew was that you, too, wanted to press your lips against his ear.

Though you went as far as nibbling on his ear, alcohol inhibiting all restraint you usually would have had. All restraint you thought you had, actually.

Clearly, you hadn’t had much.

He sighed once again, a hand moving up so he could brush your hair behind your shoulder, and his mouth immediately moved, barely pressing on the spot where the collar of your shirt stopped. He left a light kiss there, and you slightly opened your eyes, looking down at him.

Until he moved up, face a few inches away from yours. Far enough so you could see the blue of his contacts and his red hair. Close enough to know there was no turning back now.

You leaned in, closing the space between you. The space and the time that had separated you, really.

You lightly brushed your lips against his, and your eyes shut in synch as Hyunjin let out a shuddering breath. Your heart started racing in your chest, and you were pretty sure you were trembling when he pecked her lips.

You were in your own little world, away from everyone else. In your own little bubble of peace and contentment, really. A place where you should have met a long time ago.

You fully pressed your lips against his, the taste of soju on his mouth making you dizzy inside. Even more so, as he ran a hand through your hair, grabbing the back of your head to pull you closer as he deepened the kiss. One of your hands rested on his thigh, and you slightly parted your lips as his tongue swiped on your bottom lip.

Your tongues met in a passionate dance as a breathy sound bubbled in your throat, your other hand getting lost in his hair as you pulled at it. He grunted, and you wondered if he was shaking or if it was you.

Maybe it was both of you.

And you were shaking… for what exactly? You didn’t even know. All you knew was that you were about to burst right then and there, and your heart couldn’t quite take it.

He whispered your name against your lips, and you kissed him harder. He met your pace, and you were pretty sure he would have pulled you in his lap had someone not cheered.

You pulled away from him, eyes wide, as you realized what you were doing.

His gaze met yours, and there was fear in his eyes.

“I should go”, you said, and you were up before your sentence had ended.

Hyunjin followed you, slightly stumbling as you stormed towards the door.

“Y/n, wait”, he let out. “What’s wrong?”

Moving out of the dinning room, you walked down the hallway leading to the door.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, turning around to look at him.

You were shaking with your whole body now.

“We… we just kissed, it… Why are you freaking out?” he asked, and you tried to read the emotions on his face.

All you knew was that he too was panicking.

“That was wrong”, you said. “We shouldn’t…”

He chuckled bitterly, taking you by surprise. “It was time we kissed, don’t you think?”

“Just because Seonwha wants us to be together doesn’t mean we should be.”

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Nuna, I’m not talking about Seonwha. Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same about me.”

“We had this conversation once, Hyunjin-ah, and look where it led us.”

“It led us to tonight, didn’t it?” he pointed out, with an edge to his voice you definitely didn’t like.

“I don’t want that. I don’t want to be with you like that.”

“You kissed me”, he said, venom dripping from his voice. “You want it just as bad as I do.”

“You can’t just come back into my life like that, Hyunjin-ah!” You glanced at the door, though you were slowly starting to see red. It wasn’t anxiety making you shake anymore, but rage. “You came back when it was convenient for you, uh? You waited until I wasn’t with Hangyeol anymore, and then you pull off this shit?”

“You’ve broken up for months, I didn’t come back right away, didn’t I?” He scoffed. “I wouldn’t have come back at all if it hadn’t been for Seonwha.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have.”

The silence that fell around you was heavy, pressing you down as you felt your lungs burning. You just stared at each other. You tried to pretend you couldn’t see the pain on his features, but youncouldn’t ignore it.

“Leave me alone”, you said, voice small. “I need to think.”

“What is there to think about?” he asked, and his voice broke on the last word.

You motioned between the two of you. “This. Whatever just happened. I… it’s better if we don’t talk for a few days.”

“Please don’t go”, he begged, and you shut your eyes as your heart sank in your chest.

“This is not the end”, you said, hoping he could hear the promise behind those words. “I just need a few days.”

You opened your eyes to see him blinking back tears.

It came as a surprise that your own gaze was still dry.

“Okay”, he let out. “I’ll give you a few days.”

You nodded, scanning his features one last time before you turned around, aiming for the door. You didn’t hear him move, and neither did you look over your shoulder to see if he had. You weren’t quite sure you would have been able to leave if you had looked at him then.

*****

You stared at the blank page on your laptop. Lost in the dizzying twirls of your thoughts.

It happened to you a lot lately, quite honestly.

It had been a little over a week since your fight with Hyunjin. You hadn’t exchanged a single word since then and, frankly, you weren’t quite sure you wanted to ever speak to him again. You were embarrassed, far too embarrassed to acknowledge that you had kissed him. That you had wanted to drown in his sweetness, and in the way his lips had moved against yours.

You tsked, blinking a few times to chase the memory away. To focus on your blank page once again, and on words that had been avoiding you for days now. Since…

You scoffed, closing your laptop before sitting back in your chair, your head resting against it.

You had been lying to yourself all those days, if you were being honest. Trying to convince yourself that you were angry at him, that you didn’t want him. You had never been a liar before, but it seemed Hwang Hyunjin brought that ugly part of you out.

A part of you you didn’t think you had, but that had gained control of you when you had realized you were kissing him.

You wanted to hate him. Hate him for coming back like that and expecting them to be together. As if he hadn’t abandoned you for so long. It was unfair, really, that he expected you to be his after he had treated you like he had.

Why did you still want him so bad, then?

Seonwha had been furious, the last time you had spoken to her. Clearly, Hyunjin had told her everything, because she gave you the lecture of the century, calling you stupid and selfish.

You rather thought Hyunjin had been the selfish one. He hadn’t even considered the fact that you might just want to be his friend. He had…

You sighed deeply. You didn’t want to just be his friends. You didn’t think you wanted to be his either. That was why you hadn’t texted him yet.

You hated the effect that it had had on him. Because you had been unable to keep away from the idol part of him, and you had watched their two last shows online. Had seen him mess up a few choreographies. Had been able to see the hurt in his smiles, and in the way they never reached his eyes.

You knew him far too well for your own good.

You tapped your fingers on the back of the laptop, as you once again relived the kiss.

It had been the best goddamn kiss of your entire life, if you were being honest. And you doubted nothing would ever top that.

You had forgotten how to think, how to breathe, how to exist in that moment. All you had known was that there was him, and there was you, and you were two. Two souls, bound to be together. Bound together, lips sealing the deal.

Maybe you never should have kissed him, because you weren’t quite sure you would ever feel the same again. As if it had made you realize that you were missing half of you, and that the only way to get it back was to be with him. Was to drink in the taste of him until you’d be drunk and old and grey, until eternity would set you apart, in infinite darkness.

You had always been a romantic, had become a writer because of it… but this was a next step. As if you hadn’t known about the love poets spoke about until that moment when your lips had touched. And really, you were aware of that. Were aware that he’d always be the better part of you, the sweet and loveable and kind part of you.

A part you were running away from, content in your own little misery. In that disgusting part of you that wanted him to hurt like he had hurt you. You knew it was wrong, because you knew he had been hurting too. You couldn’t imagine how you would have felt had the roles been reversed. Had he been the one dating someone toxic. Had you had to look at him slowly dwindling away to nothingness.

Though that was the part you couldn’t quite forgive him for. You had been dying, with Hangyeol. Had suffered more than you’d ever admit it to anyone. He had known it, all too well, and had chosen to leave without a single word.

That silence… it had killed you, relentlessly. You had been forced to rebuild yourself, a little changed, and probably not in the right way. Though it had led to you breaking up with Hangyeol, if you were being honest.

Because, if you had had to choose between Hyunjin and Hangyeol, you would have chosen Hyunjin, no hesitation.

You hadn’t thought that choice was going to be taken away from you, though. Hadn’t thought Hyunjin would ever walk out of your life… and now he had come back, and you were the one walking away.

You turned your head towards the sliding doors to your right, the city of Seoul coming into view. The sun was getting low in the sky, and you sighed once again. You hadn’t been productive at all today.

You got up from your spot, moving closer to the sliding doors, before stepping outside, the sounds of the city engulfing you. The balcony of your apartment overlooked a small plaza, and you looked down at it, watching people walking around, eating bungeoppang from the street vendor or just rushing to wherever they had to go.

It was strange how life seemed to be moving far too fast around you, when you were still stuck in that dorm kitchen, lips pressed against Hyunjin’s. As if time had stopped for you then, and you’d forever be stuck reliving the moments. Again and again, until you’d go crazy from it.

A breeze caught in your hair, and you shut your eyes, appreciating the warmth of the sun rays on your skin.

Maybe you were being too harsh on him. Maybe…

Maybe you were meant to be together after all, and he wasn’t wrong. Maybe your timing had just always been off.

Then why did it still feel so wrong?

You stayed there for a while, a lot longer than you had first wanted to. Just letting the sound and smells of the city carry you through your thoughts, because really, there was no escaping.

The worst part was that you missed him, so much. Wanted to share with him every funny pictures that you saw on Instagram, wanted to hear him tell you about his days, wanted to see his smile and listen to his laugh…

Perhaps you had waited long enough. Perhaps you were two puzzle pieces that were meant to be together, and it was time you faced the truth. Running away from it wasn’t going to lead you anywhere good.

As if it finally clicked into place, you knew what you had to do. Though you had probably known it all along, and you had just been waiting for your stubbornness to give in to the feelings in your heart.

You walked inside, hands slightly clammy as you looked for your phone. Ignoring the voice in your head that was telling you not text Hyunjin. That was begging you to not be with him…

As if you were trying to punish yourself.

Phone in hands, you just stood there for a moment, as realization hit you like a train.

Hyunjin deserved explanations, and some good ones at that.

*****

You sat in the couch, in that same spot you had been for the last hour. Hyunjin had replied to your text saying that he had a performance tonight, but that he could come over after, if you didn’t mind. And frankly, even if you knew you would be tired the next day, you couldn’t wait. Needed to set things straight between you, before he floated too far away for you to be able to reach him again.

Your television was turned on, a K-drama playing with the sound muted. You hadn’t been paying attention to it at all, and had just needed some sort of… company, as you were waiting for him. Because you couldn’t bare the darkness of your apartment.

Your eyes were lost in the void as you nibbled on the dry skin of your bottom lip, unable to focus on anything other than your racing heart. You didn’t even know what time it was, had stopped paying attention to the clock on the wall because time seemed to move so slow.

You couldn’t wait for him to arrive. Couldn’t wait to explain everything to him. Though you were anxious that it would be too little too late.

You startled as your phone started ringing next to you, indicating that someone was at the front door downstairs. Hyunjin.

You buzzed him in, your hands starting to shake as you got up to wait for him at the door. Fingers flickering, as the tick of the clock on the wall echoed every odd beat of your heart.

At this rate, you clearly were going to have a heart attack before Hyunjin was going to reach the door.

There was a slight hesitant knock on the door, and you quickly threw it open, to the sight of a slightly dishevelled and apprehensive Hyunjin. His eyes widened, mouth falling open, as you just looked at him standing there.

It was the five most awkward seconds of your entire life.

“Uh, come in”, you said, blushing as you realized you had been staring.

You moved to the side, blushing even more at the thought of him, in your apartment. The apartment in which you lived alone, with only a few plants to keep you company.

He walked in, staying a good distance away from you, as if he’d get burned if he touched you. He looked stiff, and he didn’t really hold your gaze, instead scanning the living room of your apartment with his gaze.

“Welcome to my… home”, you said, shutting the door behind him. “I… How was the concert?”

His eyes settled on you and you felt like a deer in headlights for a moment. Until he wet his lips and spoke. “You’ve finally decided to talk to me again?”

You gulped. Straight to the point it would be, then.

“Uh”, you let out. “I have an extra pair of slippers, if you want to come in. We can sit in the living room.”

A crease appeared between his brows, but he took off his shoes and put on the slippers, before following you to the couch.

You sat at the two extremities of it, a whole world between you.

“I… have been thinking”, you started, hands shaking. You hid their trembles by sitting on your hands, even if the position was somewhat awkward. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”

He remained silent, only looking at you. Well, not quite, as he seemed to be looking at a spot right next to your face. You glanced at it, though there was nothing there.

“I… You mean a lot to me, Jinnie”, you continued. “We’ve been through a lot, and I guess I… was afraid to lose you?”

“Why would us kissing make you think that?” he asked, voice cold.

It took you by surprise, and all your resolve dissolved like some cotton candy in water.

“Because…” you trailed off. “We were best friends for years, and then I lost you. I don’t think I ever really allowed myself to realize just how bad it hurt to lose you.”

He scoffed. “You were the one dating that asshole.”

“You didn’t have to leave”, you said, your tone a little vehement too. “You could have talked to me.”

“I did, nuna. I told you what I thought about him and you still dated him.” He crossed his arms on his chest, slightly shaking his head. “It fucking sucked seeing you with him.”

“And I realize that now!” you quickly said, hoping to diffuse the fight that was starting to build up before it exploded. “I made some mistakes, and I’m sorry I did.”

Only silence met your words. He really wasn’t making that easy, wasn’t he?

“I think I panicked the other day because… you mean so, so much to me and I don’t even want to imagine a world in which I’d lose you again”, you said softly, looking away from him. “But at the same time, I’m pissed at myself for dating Hangyeol after you told me how you felt, and… and I don’t think I deserve you.” You blinked back a few tears. “I don’t deserve you, Hyunjin-ah. I don’t even understand why you still… want me like that after everything that happened. You deserve so much better than how I treated you…” You dried the tear that slipped out of your right eye with the back of your hand. “You deserve someone that’ll love you from the start, and that won’t torture you like I did.” You gulped, swallowing down the lump that had started forming in your throat. “I was selfish, to think that you were the one in the wrong. We both made mistakes, and… I guess I don’t think I deserve your forgiveness. Don’t think I deserve the kiss we...”

“I’ll stop you right there”, Hyunjin interrupted you, voice strained with emotions. “This is not about deserving each other.” You looked at him, heart breaking in your chest at the sight of tears rolling down his cheeks. “You don’t control who you fall in love with. And sometimes, people are meant to be lessons in each other’s life. Fuck’s sake, I thought you were a lesson for a long time. It hasn’t stopped me from feeling what I feel for you though.” He wiped his tears, chuckling, the sound bittersweet. “There wasn’t a day I wasn’t thinking about you, longing for you. But since that day I told you how I felt… it changed me. I couldn’t just be friends with you, and I had to get away.”

You nodded, vision blurred by a new wave of tears.

“But fuck every day I thought of you. The boys helped me with it, and their friendship really helped through the pain of losing you, but the love remained. And when I saw you at Seonwha’s wedding… It took me back to the day I told you how I felt, and for a moment it was like not a second had passed. And I pictured myself living that moment again, with a happy ending instead.” He looked away, eyes focusing on the silent TV, as the credits of the K-drama rolled on the screen. “I’m rambling, sorry.”

“Don’t”, you quickly said. “Don’t apologize for telling me how you feel. It’s past time we tell each other how we feel.”

He smiled through his tears, wiping them away.

“I’ve been in love with you all those years, Hyunjin-ah. Ever since that night at Seonwha’s birthday party.” Flashes of that night swirled in your thoughts as you reminisced the moment when you had told Hyunjin you loved him, and he had said he couldn’t be with you. “I’ve loved you every day and I don’t deserve you.”

“Stop”, he said. “I told you it’s not about who deserves who.”

“But it is though”, you insisted. “You… When you told me how you felt, I was scared. So fucking scared when I had been waiting to hear that for months. It pissed me off, though, because I knew it before. We both knew it.”

He nodded, meeting your gaze.

“It’s always been you, Jinnie. Every moment of every day it’s been you. Even when I was with Hangyeol. Even more then. That night at the wedding… I saw a future with you. It scared me, and I panicked when we kissed last week but it was… the best kiss I’ve ever had. You are… so much. I can’t even say so much what… you are just so much… you.”

He chuckled, as he blinked back a few more tears.

“You’re everything that I want, that I’ve wanted, and I don’t deserve it.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because… I don’t know”, you said, shrugging as you too chuckled. “Because I’m young and dumb and afraid of commitment and afraid of getting hurt. And you’re… you’re an idol, you live in a complete different universe than I do.”

“I’m still the same.”

“You are. And that’s why I still feel like that about you.”

“Like what?” he asked, a teasing smile moving on his lips.

The sight of it made you feel like a rainbow had appeared in the storm of your life.

“Don’t make me repeat it”, you said, laughing lightly. “It’s… fuck why didn’t I tell you before?”

His face fell serious as he carefully watched you. “I didn’t think the timing was ever going to be right with you”, he admitted after a time. “Always thought that I would be forced to live my life knowing I’d let the one slip through my fingers.”

“I’m right here”, you said, voice filled with emotion. “I was really fucking dumb but I’m right here and I never want to leave again.”

“I won’t let you”, he teased you, as he reached out to grab your hand. And than seemed to be considering it for a time, before pulling you closer. Pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss was the confirmation you needed. That he indeed was the one. That he was the love poets write poems about, and singers sing songs about. That he was the oxygen to your lungs, and the light in your darkest nights.

It felt like coming home after a long journey. Head full of memories, heart full of feelings, but finally ready to settle down. To relax for a while, and to just enjoy being alive. Being there, in the moment. Not caring about the world.

Just him and you. You and him. Intertwined on your couch in a dance of passion, lips against skin, skin against skin, breaths heavy with release and love and everything in between.

You felt free, like a bird soaring high in the sky, after years of being grounded. Like a kite in a summer wind, or a wave hitting the shore.

It was an abundance of feelings you didn’t even know existed, yet felt just right.

He was just right. For you, that is. And you for him. Two souls, connected on a deeper level than you had ever thought possible, as if you finally knew the secrets to the universe. And maybe you did. Maybe he was the secret to your universe, and you to his. Maybe he was the rules of physics to which you responded, and you were the mathematics of his dreams.

When you were laying in your bed, somewhere between the hours of midnight and dawn, you took the time to look at him. Truly look at the boy you had always known – man now. And you knew. Knew that everything that had happened to you in life had happened for a reason. To lead you there, with him, to the place you were destined to find. Because the feelings in your heart… it was faith. You knew it. And instead of being afraid of it, as you had been at first, you welcomed it in with open arms.

Embraced it, really, because what else was there to do, when the love of your life was right next to you?

“What are you thinking about?” Hyunjin murmured, voice groggy with sleep.

Though you hadn’t really slept at all.

“You”, you whispered, nuzzling your face in his neck. The smell of him was almost enough to make you go crazy. “Us.”

“Look at you all cheesy”, he said, chuckling. The deep sound reverberated in his chest, and you smiled against his skin.

“I’m a hopeless romantic, what were you expecting?”

“Nothing less”, he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I wouldn’t want nothing less than that from you.”

You felt your cheeks burning, and you hid it by cuddling further into him.

“You know what?” Hyunjin said.

“Mmh?” you let out.

“I think I fell in love with you first.”

You chuckled. “Bullshit.”

“No, I’m serious”, he insisted. “The day we met. You were wearing the school uniform, and you had your hair tied back in a ponytail. You looked so cute and I couldn’t stop staring at you. That’s why I walked straight into you. I knew then that you were the one.”

“Why did you tell me you just wanted to be friends, then?” you asked, hand moving up so you could gently put behind his ear the strand of blond hair that was falling in his eyes.

“Because we were young”, he said, as if it explained anything. “I knew you were the kind of love I wouldn’t ever be able to walk away from. But I had this dream of being an idol… and I guess at the end of the day I was selfish, and took you for granted.”

“We both were selfish”, you whispered. “But we’re here now, and it’s all that matters.”

He smiled softly. “It is. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You blushed, giggling. “Who’s being cheesy now?”

He laughed, pulling you into his chest, hugging you tight against him. You put your head on his chest, right above his heart, and you listened to his heartbeat for a time, your own heart meeting the pace of his, as if they too had been in synch from the start.

“I love you”, Hyunjin said after a few more moments of silence. “Always have and always will.”

Warmth moved throughout your whole body, and you wondered if it was possible to be happier than you were then. You highly doubted so.

“I love you too.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

I hope you enjoyed!! I feel all fluffy rereading it, this couple was really fun to write. The way they are both hopeless for the other like🥺🥺

Let me know what you thought of the fic! Feedback is always appreciated

Love you all✌🏼

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fic #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #always been you

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