#but i don’t think i’ve ever had a playlist made for me

[lnfours]

close to you | l.n

summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.

warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there

jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍

masterlist | listen to the playlist

before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.

to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.

that was until you met him.

the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.

You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.

sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.

but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.

it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.

until pietra confirmed your suspicions.

“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”

you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”

she scoffed, “more like know so,”

“who told you?”

“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”

you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”

but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.

ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.

he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.

and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.

he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.

so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.

he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”

your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“

“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”

how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.

and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.

as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.

he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.

“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”

your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”

he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”

there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.

the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.

he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.

he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.

he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”

you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”

“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.

you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.

you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.

“hey, lando! long time no see!”

you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.

“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.

“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.

“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“

“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”

what was that supposed to mean?

you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“

“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”

you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.

“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.

“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”

lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”

you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”

you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”

“up to your room, huh?”

you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”

“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.

“yeah, we can put it that way.”

he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.

he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.

“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”

he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”

you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.

finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”

he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”

you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”

he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.

the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.

you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”

you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.

“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”

“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”

you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.

he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.

his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”

your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”

he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”

his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.

“never mind, it’s dumb-“

“lando,”

“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“

you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.

it was too late now, no going back.

you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.

“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“

it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.

you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.

when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.

“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.

“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.

“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”

“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”

you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”

“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”

you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”

“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.

[joonsmagicshop]

Faking It- Chapter Two

Summary: When you first met Namjoon you never expected he would ghost you for a month due to his own clumsiness. You also never expected him to walk into your café and ask you to be his fill in girlfriend at his cousins wedding.

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader.

Word Count: 5k

Rating: E for everyone

Tags: Again just backstory and stuff to get the plot going

Author Note: protective taetae has my heart

*message me if you want to be added to the taglist*

Masterlist for this fic

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You stood in shock as chaos ensued around you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Namjoon as he smiled sheepishly at you, the words he just said reverberating in your brain as you scrambled to make sense of them

“Y/N I kind of well. Will you come to a wedding with me in December? Like in three weeks. I kind of volunteered you by accident. I’m sorry!”

You were just about to open your mouth to say something, maybe ask him to repeat it when you heard your name being called from across the cafe and you looked to see Taehyung struggling to assist a swarm of people.

His brown eyes were wide and panicked and that look alone made you spring into action.

“Namjoon I’m sorry can we… figure this out later I have to… I’m at work.” You finished weakly as you shot him an apologetic look and raced behind the counter immediately snapping into action to help Taehyung as more people came into the cafe.

You had no time to even admire how beautiful it was outside as you kept your head down and kept taking orders and making drinks.

It took almost an hour for the line to clear out and almost every table in the cafe was full. When you finally did look up Namjoon was long gone and his table was cleared.

“Holy crap I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many people at once.” Jimin comments wiping his brow with his apron and sighing, leaning on the counter for a quick break.

“That was insane. Like truly insane. I feel like everyone ducked in here to get out of the snow, our line almost went to the door.” Taehyung commented fixing his headband which had slipped so far back it was no longer holding his hair in place.

The music suddenly stopped as a couple more people walked into the cafe and their eyes widened at how full it was.

“Shit playlist is over,” Taehyung noted as you scooted behind him and squeezed his arm.

“I got it.”

You made your way to the tiny office at the far end of the cafe right next to the cleaning closet and took out your small key ring unlocking the door.

Taehyung kept the office simple with a small desk, a computer, and some minimal decor. You had decided to keep the office cell phone in here as it was still close enough to connect to the Bluetooth speaker but far enough away where it wouldn’t accidentally get spilled on by steaming hot coffee.

You pressed the password and scrolled down to find some festive jazz music, pressing the play button and letting music flood the cafe again.

Festive music felt right when a random snowstorm decided to show up a month before Christmas.

You paused in the office and slunk down in Tae’s big comfy chair letting out a sigh.

You pulled out your phone as a distraction from all the thoughts racing through your brain and you saw you had a text message from an unknown number.

Namjoon.

You never ended up putting him in as a contact.

Namjoon: I know things got busy and it was awful timing to bring that up. You probably have so many questions so text me and maybe we can meet up. Please just let me explain.

The office door opens and Tae slips inside you immediately sit up in the chair and he shoots you a weary smile.

“Crazy afternoon right?” He comments as you start to stand up to let him take his desk chair back but he shakes his head and instead takes the small chair in the corner, scooting it closer to his desk.

“I’ve never seen so many people in here at once.” You say feeling your phone vibrate again.

Namjoon: Please let me explain I feel like an idiot for even bringing it up.

“You okay?” Taehyung asked as you pocket your phone again and tuck your loose strands behind your ear.

“Yeah, I’m all good Tae.”

He stares at you and you know he can see through your lie. He has known you too long for you to get things past him.

“What happened with Namjoon? Do I need to beat him up? I will.” Taehyung says as you crack a smile.

“It was fine. Nothing happened. He- he dropped his phone in a sewer grate before leaving for a business trip for a month. That’s why he disappeared.” You explain shifting your weight in the chair under Taehyung’s heavy gaze.

“So what happened?” He asked leaning forward and waiting for your answer.

“You don’t have to hurt him if that’s what you want to know. I took his number this time and made sure to text him to be sure it was right. We are going to try again from the top.” You say with a small smile on your face.

“Okay, but something else obviously happened because when I called you to help out you looked like a dear caught in the headlights. You never freeze up like that. What did he do?” Tae asks dropping his voice low

“He..well he wants to try again. We both do. Then he told me…well I mean he invited me to a wedding? Told me he volunteered me to go to a wedding with him. And then we got busy so I have no idea what that means.” You say fidgeting with your clothes.

“I’m sorry what? You aren’t going to a wedding with a stranger? And what do you mean volunteered?” He asks concern written all over his face.

“I have no idea. I haven’t had a chance to text him with the rush and all. I came in here to collect myself before figuring this out.” You explain.

“Y/N you can’t. He just got back in your good graces and he’s already asking you for a favor. A huge favor! I mean who does that?” Taehyung argues, brows furrowed as you stand up and take out your phone typing out a quick message to Namjoon before you send yourself into a spiral of overthinking.

You: I’m done work in four hours if you want to come back and explain. I have so many questions.

“I texted him and let him know if he wants to explain he can come after my shift we should probably get back out there or Jimin might burn the place down.” You tease as you walk around the desk and reach for the door however Taehyung stops you with a hand on your arm.

“Please don’t let this guy hurt you again Y/N.” He warns as you stop in your tracks and stare at him.

“He hurt you. I know you didn’t say anything but it was obvious, at least to me. How you kept obsessively checking your phone. How you kept staring at the door in hopes he would just appear. Please be careful that’s all I ask.” Taehyung tells you before releasing your arm.

“Thanks, Tae I will.” You promise as you hold out your pinkie.

Taehyung chuckles and loops his pinkie with yours.

Ritual as old as time, the sacred pinkie promise.

You giggle when you release pinkies and both leave the office hoping Jimin was okay to handle everything for a short while.

Namjoon showed up exactly at seven pm and when you saw him your breath caught in your throat. He looked the same as he did earlier in the day but this time his cheeks were tinged with pink from the cold air and snow stuck to his eyelashes.

While the snowstorm had died down, small flakes were still falling blanketing everything in a soft white and making the world look fresh and new from this morning’s dreary gray sky.

Taehyung was cleaning tables and he shot Namjoon a look when he walked by to meet you at the counter.

Jimin had left an hour ago and Jungkook offered to stay to help Taehyung close up but he was in the back researching new recipes.

“Hey,” Namjoon said as you gathered your things from behind the counter and hung your apron on your designated hook.

“Hi.” You said softly as Namjoon shot you a warm smile that despite your better judgment, had you grinning right back at him.

Taehyung’s warning was still playing in the back of your mind, it had been replaying over and over for the last couple of hours as you finished your work for the day.

Taehyung was just being protective and you promised yourself that you would keep your guard up around Namjoon until you knew him better but every time he smiled it seemed your guard would slip a little bit. He just had that effect on you.

“Ready to go? I thought I could take you somewhere and we could talk.” He asks as you walk around the counter and stand next to him, plopping your bag on a nearby table so you can zip up your coat.

“Where do you have in mind?” You ask as you fumble with your zipper trying not to zip up any of your hair as you took it down before Namjoon showed up.

“I was thinking of a cafe maybe a couple of blocks down from here.” He says shyly as you finally get your zipper working and you look up at him.

“Namjoon we are literally in a cafe right now.” You remind him gesturing around at the mostly empty tables.

“I know but I didn’t think it was right for me to have our first date at your workplace you know.” He answers smoothly causing you to blush.

“This is a date?” You quiz him as you shove your hat over your hair and loop your bag over your shoulders.

“I’m thinking this is a let’s talk and figure things out and we can decide if it is a date after.” He says with a smile as you wave to Taehyung and lead Namjoon out of the cafe and into the cold.

The air is crisp and it burns your lungs slightly as you follow Namjoon out onto the almost empty streets. Overhead fairy lights are twinkling and the snow is slowly dying down with occasional flakes falling. The sky is dark and littered with stars and everything feels so new and magical, or maybe it is the fact Namjoon reaches out to grab your gloved hand.

You smile up at him and after the short walk, you find yourself standing in front of a white building which is a very empty coffee house.

Namjoon politely holds the door open for you and shoots you a charming smile as you enter.

While Tae’s Teas goes for a clean aesthetic look this place takes on a more earthy look and you have to admit the place is beautiful. The walls are cream colored and fake and real plants are scattered everywhere. Everything is soft light wood, whites, browns, and greens and you can’t help but gasp as you notice the giant mural painted on the far wall.

It is a huge climbing ivy, starting at the bottom and expanding outwards to cover most of the wall. Tangled in its leaves are coffee cups and tea cups making the whole thing fit the vibe perfectly.

“Isn’t that piece cool? It’s a legend around here.” Namjoon explains as you continue to stare at it in awe. Whoever painted it seemed to know what they were doing as it looked to be perfect in every way.

“Jin, my friend that owns this place, said the kid came in one day and almost begged to paint that wall. Jin thought why the hell not? If it turns out to be crap he can paint over it. I was away but I heard the story.”

“The kid came in with a sketchbook and got Jin to approve of the idea, every day for two months he came in and worked on it. Hardly talked to anyone just put headphones in and did it. When it was over everyone was so impressed and the kid didn’t even want money. He just said every time he drove by the wall looked so bare and he wanted to make it into something beautiful. Jin of course paid him and then the kid disappeared. No one ever saw him again or even knew what happened to him. We only got a first name. Jungkook. I never met him, Jin met him a handful of times and Yoongi only met him once. Sometimes we wonder if we imagined him but if you look close near the blue teacup you can see his initials.” Namjoon explains pointing out the microscopic JK handwritten there.

“Jungkook?” You ask feeling completely thrown off, blinking up at Namjoon.

Like your Jungkook?

“Jin said that was his name? Wait? Do you know him?” Namjoon asks eyes wide and voice excited.

“Yeah, I work with him. I-I didn’t know he could paint like that holy crap.” You exclaim in awe as you continue to stare at the art truly captivated by it.

It did make sense though, Jungkook always worked on your signs inside and outside the shop as he had the best handwriting out of the four of you. He also liked to add little doodles to things because he said they made it look “more interesting.”

Something like this though, so big and grand it made you glow with pride as you could imagine Jungkook in his dark baggy clothes with his headphones in having the time of his life painting the wall.

“He is our head baker and truly amazing. He does all our signs because he is so good. I had no idea though he did something like that. It’s incredible.” You gush as a voice clears from the counter and you turn to see a man standing there with his arms folded.

You were sure he wasn’t here when you first arrived and you jumped when you saw him.

He was staring at you and Namjoon in annoyance and you knew why. You would hate to be standing there waiting to serve a customer only to have them gawk at the art and take up your time.

“Maybe we should order.” You whisper as Namjoon chuckles and leads you to the counter.

The counter is bigger than yours and you can see that the desert case is almost empty. Maybe they are closing soon and you both should go somewhere else. You didn’t want to make them stay open past close that was so unfair.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else, it looks like they are closing soon.” You whisper feeling small under the worker’s gaze.

“Nah it’s okay it’s just Yoongi. He is our resident grumpy grandpa but he’s as sweet as Suga. He helps out when he can. Jin hired all college and University kids but sometimes with exams, they can’t work as much so we step in and help.” He explains as Yoongi shoots Namjoon a glare.

“I’m not grumpy. Maybe if you didn’t stand and stare at the wall I could have already been home.” He grumbles which has you shrinking more under his gaze.

“This is Y/N Yoongi and she knows who painted that piece. She works with him.” Namjoon explains calmly letting Yoongi’s sass roll off his back as if it never happened.

“You do?” Yoongi asks eyebrows raised as he stares at you.

“Yeah, I work at Tae’s Teas and Jungkook is our head baker there. I had no idea he painted this though.” You admit.

“He is a very talented kid. I met him once. Very shy but talented.” Yoongi complements shooting you a small smile.

“Now what can I get you both.”

You both order Hot chocolate and muffins and Yoongi gets to work as Namjoon chats him up. You find out quickly that they both work together producing music but help out Jin at the cafe when they can. Turns out Jin owns a couple of restaurants and cafes in the city and is quite a popular name among food critics.

Yoongi slides you the food and drinks, swiftly takes his apron off, and gives Namjoon a hard stare.

“I’m trusting you to close the store Namjoon. I’m not covering for you with Jin if you lose the key. Y/N I hate to ask you this but can you make sure he doesn’t lose the key? If I had a dollar for every time he did, well I’d be a very rich man.” Yoongi grumbles.

“Yoongi it hasn’t been that many times,” Namjoon whines as you laugh.

“So he doesn’t just lose cell phones then?” You tease as Namjoon lets out a groan and Yoongi snickers.

“I like this one.” He says pointing to you before gathering his things and waving over his shoulder. He heads out the back door and soon enough you can hear an engine revving.

Namjoon rolls his eyes and leads you to a table near the window. Before he sits he takes his time making sure all doors are locked and the lights are dimmed. He also pulls all the blinds down explaining how he doesn’t want customers to think they are open.

“So wait are we allowed to be in here?” You ask as he finally shucks off his coat hangs it on the back of his chair and sits down.

You follow suit and Namjoon smiles at you.

“Technically I work here so yes. But if you are worried I did okay it with Jin just in case.” He explains as you wrap your hands around the mug and let it warm your bare hands.

The hot chocolate is creamy and rich and you giggle when the whipped cream sticks to your lips. It warms you from the inside out and you wonder if you begged enough Namjoon would tell you the secret to making it taste so good.

“So…” He starts as he slowly takes the top off the muffin and shoves some in his mouth.

“So.” You repeat as you run your hands down your thighs nervously.

“I picked a bad time to drop that whole wedding thing on you. I wanted to talk to you about it I just never expected you to get so many customers at once.” Namjoon admits shyly as you nod and bring your cup to your lips, taking a sip of your drink and giving him the space to talk.

“Okay so. While I was away for a month I did have a week off so I flew back here to visit my parents. They live an hour train ride from here and well… My mom wanted to remind me for the hundredth time that my cousin is getting married in three weeks. December 21st right before Christmas. Which I already knew because he asked to stand in the wedding ages ago” Namjoon starts.

He lets out a small sigh as his eyes roll up to the ceiling.

“Sungho and I grew up together. Because we are the same age we were more than just cousins, we were best friends. Sungho and I grew up almost the same until we got into high school. He was the popular kid, playing sports and dating the prettiest girls. Everything seemed to fall into his lap. Whereas I may be tall, but I sure as hell am not athletic. I was more of the nerdy smart kid. I spent my days completing homework and watching shows while he was out going to parties with girls.” Namjoon says.

“Anyway, this is when tension started to arise. We got compared… a lot. And I just could never compete with him you know. He was just…that guy. Was already riding a bike when I still had training wheels. Knew what it was like to kiss a girl when I still thought they had cooties.”

You chuckled imagining small Namjoon sticking out his tongue when his cousin talks about kissing.

“Then I started making music. I went to underground rap competitions when I was fourteen, that’s actually how I met Yoongi. He is a year older and took me under his wing. Eventually, I told my parents I didn’t want to go to business school I wanted to be a music producer, or maybe a musician myself. At first, they weren’t supportive at all but eventually, they came around. Only if I finished business school. My dad is a hardworking businessman who was hardly ever home because he was always working. I think my parent’s dream was for me to be like him. But I didn’t want that.” Namjoon explains pausing to take a sip of his drink.

“I finished business school for my parents then decided to go into the music thing full time. Yoongi and I were already scouted we were just waiting for….others. They wanted to make us into a band. The greatest band the world would see but after a year they couldn't find anyone that matched our vibe so Yoongi insisted we become music producers instead. This all happened in Korea because I studied abroad. Yoongi came with me and worked on producing music while I was in school. Anyway, they took us on and since everything is online we work from the office here so we both could be closer to our families.”

“No matter what I do I’ll never be Sungho and while I’ve accepted that I don’t think my parents have. When my mom brought up that I would be standing in the wedding she reminded me that my cousin is the same age as me and getting married, while I was always away in different countries making music and maybe I should settle down.” Namjoon chuckles shaking his head.

“She then brought up how I had been single for a while and I just couldn’t take it and told her I was seeing someone. I was so tired of the comparison of Sungho’s life to mine that I just…snapped. I know it is super embarrassing to make up a girlfriend at my age but I just couldn’t bear to see her disappointed face…again. I’m sorry this must seem so pathetic.” He mutters as you reach out to hold his hand.

His hands are large and soft and when you lace your fingers through his you can feel a spark down to your toes.

“I get it Namjoon. I get why you did it. It must have been frustrating to constantly be compared.” You sympathize as he nods.

“Well my mom started to ask me a billion questions so I told her…a little about you. The lies just kept coming and well my mom told me I better be bringing you to the wedding.” He finishes looking ashamed of himself.

“I tried every excuse in the book to get you out of it but my mom doesn’t tolerate liars and I know this so I don’t know why I lied in the first place. You don’t have to come honestly I don’t expect you to I just figured I should shoot my shot you know.” He says running his thumb along yours.

“So you lied to your mom and want me to go as a fake girlfriend to your cousin’s wedding?” You summarize hoping you got it right.

“I mean that makes it sound awful but you're right. Sungho and his soon-to-be wife are loaded. The wedding is up north in the mountains and they rented everyone cabins to stay in. My sister was supposed to come but she is six months pregnant and thought it better not to so it would be us and my parents sharing a cabin.” Namjoon explains taking another bite of his muffin.

“Is this a ploy to get rid of my body in the snow?” You ask honestly which has Namjoon bursting out in laughter.

“No! Definitely not! Though that does sound worse than using you as a fake girlfriend to keep my dignity intact.” He says in between laughter as you finish off your muffin and wrap your hands around your cup again.

“So this is real then?” You ask teasingly as Namjoon smiles and pulls out the invite from his coat pocket sliding it towards you.

The invite is simple enough, a beautiful black and white photo of the couple on the front, and on the back all the details are written in swooping calligraphy.

“How much time do I have to prepare?” You ask as Namjoon’s eyes widen.

“Three weeks…Wait? You are coming with me? For real?” He asks giddy as he begins to wiggle in his seat in excitement.

“I mean. As long as you promise to not be using this to dispose of my body in the snow I don’t see why not.” You say as Namjoon leaps from his chair and pulls you in for a hug.

Your laughter bounces off the walls of the empty cafe as Namjoon whoops and cheers pressing you in for a very tight hug.

“Wow okay so. I will pay for everything. The dress the shoes whatever you need. I’ll also pay for the gift for the couple and your train ticket. You just have to show up.” he babbles releasing you and sitting back down.

“Namjoon you don’t have to…” You start, sitting down again but he stops you.

“First you forgive me for being clumsy, next you agree to help me out. Honestly at this point I owe you my life.” He gushes.

“So I told my mom we have been dating for six months so we have to act like things are pretty serious with us. And I will fill you in on everything about my family so you don’t go in blind. Oh Y/N I’m so grateful for you this just saved me like you wouldn’t believe.” He says eyes wide in excitement and mouth drawn into a grin.

“So I have three weeks to learn all this?” You ask feeling suddenly nervous but Namjoon soothes you by using his pointer finger to trace the palm of your hand. He is so soft and gentle with you that it makes your heart leap into your throat and you feel giddiness spread throughout.

“Yes, but we are going to do it together. You may be my fake girlfriend but I’m also going to be your fake boyfriend. I’m going to be alongside you the entire time.” He says sincerely as his finger continues to trace and is now making its way up your wrist causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“Okay, but there is something we have to discuss.” You say as his finger stops moving and he looks up at you with widened eyes.

“What about….this?” You ask motioning between the both of you.

“I mean. We never went on a date or anything and now I’m expected to be your fake girlfriend. What about…whatever we started here.” You ask honestly as Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow as he thinks.

“Here’s what I think. We never got to figure out what this is between us and that is my fault. I say we put it on hold, at least until this whole mess is over then revisit it. I don’t want the lines to become blurred because we don’t know what is real and what is acting. I say we get to know each other up until the wedding as friends. Then we put on our best performance in front of my family and after we can see how we feel.” He confirms and you frown.

“I know.” He says taking in your reaction “This isn’t how I wanted to do this either but I think it’s our best shot so no one gets hurt.” He says taking both your hands in his.

“Yeah, I agree with you I just hate that the first time something romantic happens to me it has to be faked.” You sigh.

Namjoon’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Wait what?” He asks.

You blush.

“I mean I’ve had crushes on people but it never seemed to work out. I’ve kissed guys of course, I even dated a guy in University for five months but as far as romance goes, I haven’t had much.” You admit feeling awkward and not meeting his gaze.

“You coming up to me. I mean that’s not something that ever happens to me. The guy I dated in University… we were from the same friend group and it just kind of happened. That’s why when you ghosted me it hurt so much.” You say still not making eye contact with him and feeling embarrassed.

“Y/N Look at me please.” He whispers and you raise your head to meet his piercing gaze.

“I don’t think less of you because you haven’t experienced a lot of romance or you feel like you don’t have a lot of experience. I promise when this is over I will take you on a real date that won’t end up with us plotting a scheme to have you be my fake girlfriend.” He jokes as you crack a small smile.

“I was serious when I said I wanted to get to know you. And when this is all over we will do this properly.”

And you gasped when he held out his pinkie.

You looped your pinkie around his sealing the deal and smiled up at him. You could put your feelings on hold for a month. Sure you didn’t have experience being someone’s fake girlfriend but you were confident you could figure it out because there was just something about Namjoon. Maybe it was his kind smile, or the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed but something inside you wanted to get to know him, wanted to help him, and just like he said you didn’t want to ignore those signs.

“Okay so let’s get started let me tell you about my crazy family.” He teases with a smirk as you settle in for a long night

Taglist

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[heechwe]

miss americana | 𝖕𝖘𝖍

➸ second anthology piece in "basketball (inkchwe's version)" and story-inspired playlist also can be found there too! ୨୧ pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 9.8k ୨୧ genre: fluff, angst, smut ୨୧ tags: basketballplayer!heesung, cheerleader!reader, established relationship, exes to lovers au, high school au, heavy petting, marking, oral (f receiving) penetration (all characters are of age!) ୨୧ synopsis: Fed up with Sunghoon's attitude and petty games, you move on, hopefully to something better. Why did he have to realize how important you were to him once you were already gone? ➸ a/n: bless @mini-mews for being there every step of the way with this fic, it was amazing seeing all of the comments and reactions and i could not have asked for a better beta ♡

DECEMBER

Sunghoon could have made the winning shot if it weren’t for the praise that was placed on someone else for so long. Lee Heeseung was the best shooting guard his high school had ever seen; anyone with talent and passion for the sport could see that. At the same time, Sunghoon made a lot of calls as the small forward that were imperative to the success of the team. From scoring to handling the ball, Sunghoon could do it all and then some.

If only the captain, the old fart, saw that. And Heeseung, the sanctimonious prick, appreciated him more.

Sunghoon is so wrapped up in his bitter thoughts he can barely focus on your lips attached to his neck and your legs around his waist. You both were cramped in the driver’s side of his car, but you managed to make yourself fit on Sunghoon’s lap to straddle him. In the dark of night, only the two of you parked on the basketball court by the river, you decided to give him a reminder of what the most important thing in his life was outside of winning the championship. 

Sunghoon usually spent times like these celebrating with his other teammates, but something was sitting in the front of his mind like a fly he couldn’t swat. You can tell in the furrow of his brows and his scrunched-up mouth. He may not be able to focus on going out and drinking, but it was a benefit to you. Maybe he would finally spend some time with you like he used to.

“Heeseung acts like everyone should worship the ground he walks on. Yeah, he won the game tonight, so what? I could score as many baskets as him if I wanted. And I’ve played as many games as his ass and won. Even once when I had chicken pox.” Sunghoon continues on his rant, unbothered by your mouth and hands on him. You run both of your palms inside of his jersey and feel the skin of his abs underneath your fingers, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge.

“I think you did great, who cares?” You mumble into his neck, focused on making him feel pleasure rather than irritation. You move Sunghoon’s hands to cup your backside, the cheer shorts under your skirt riding up to expose your upper thighs.

“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles, eyes looking past you and towards the window.

“What do you mean ‘whatever’?” You pull away from him to look in his eyes. He’s a million miles away, not bothering to pay attention to your impending frustration. His only concerns are himself and his feelings. “Seriously, get over this attitude and talk to me if you’re not gonna at least act interested.”

Sunghoon lets out a frustrated groan and pushes you back into the passenger seat. You yelp in the process, barely landing on your ass. “What the fuck, Hoon?”

“Don’t you see I’m upset and maybe I don’t want to spend another night making out?”

“Another—“ You huff out a breath, shocked at his audacity. “When was the last time we actually spent quality time together?” Before Sunghoon can answer with a basic response, you interrupt him. “And by ‘quality time,” I don’t mean with the guys or Jongseong in attendance.”

“That’s not fair.” Sunghoon tries to hit you with his signature pout, but you don’t budge.

“What’s not fair is that I’m supposed to be your girlfriend but all you care about is huffing and puffing about basketball, complaining about not being the captain, or being a huge jackass.”

“If that’s all I do, then why the fuck are you still around?” Sunghoon bites back, venom dripping from every word.

You look at him with wide eyes, seeing him clearly for the first time in months. After the latter half of the year you’ve been together being a disappointment of epic proportions, the veil finally lifted. Sunghoon does have a point. What are you still doing with him?

“You know what? You’re right.” You exit Sunghoon’s Denali with a grunt and fix your makeup, not letting the tears that threaten to escape fall from your cheeks.

“What are you doing now?”

“You’re right. I’m not gonna waste my time anymore. I’m done.” You slam the passenger door closed and begin your walk from the basketball court to your house, determined not to look back. If he wanted to be that way, then you deserved better.

You hear the slow, incoming huff of Sunghoon’s car, and he rolls the window down to continue your conversation. His lips are in a thin line, his annoyance at an all-time high but now directed completely at you. He says, “So I guess I’ll call you when you’re not so hormonal?”

“Don’t bother. Just fuck off, Sunghoon.”

He nods his head with an angry smirk and rolls the window back up. In a sudden screech, his car races down the empty street, leaving you alone in the night to cry. You weep not just for the future you saw with him coming to a sudden end, but for the past Sunghoon who you believed would never treat you this way now.

You shut your locker with an angry hand, a resounding slam filling the hallway. The strangers around you flinch in response and whisper, some unsure why the head cheerleader is in such a mood today.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Sunghoon are done,” one of them speaks in a hushed tone.

“Damn. And right after his win? Heartless,” another says with the click of their tongue.

“How about you guys mind your fucking business?” You spit the words in their direction with force before walking away towards your calculus class. 

As if anyone knows anything about your relationship or how it came to end. The vipers are always ready to strike when a new hint of gossip comes around, no matter who gets hurt in the process.

To add salt to the wound, Sunghoon saunters up to you and tries to wrap his arm around your shoulder. You shrug him off with a tired grunt.

Many times before you had fought and made up as if the day prior never happened, all smiles and no tears in sight. But you’re tired of the same game you always played with each other. You think to yourself about the way he spoke to you two days ago, and how you would tell any other friend they deserve better.

And you definitely deserve better than that.

“Are you still mad?” Sunghoon asks with a whine. Typically, his childlike voice would make you laugh. Right now, you just feel vomit in the back of your throat.

“I’m not mad. We’re over.” You speak with a defeated but definitive tone, the end of your sentence falling into a whisper.

What’s the point of fighting anymore? With an outside perspective you did not have previously, you realized how exhausting it was going up and down with someone you were supposed to love.

Sunghoon doesn’t keep up with you, somehow understanding from the resignation in your voice and simple response that, as far as you were concerned, you were done with him.

“Goddamnit,” you curse, trying to make the lighter flick to life. For all the times you tried coaxing a flame from the device, it would not budge. First you had to deal with the onslaught of rumors circulating about your sudden breakup, and now you could barely get a lighter to work. Why did Mondays always have to be so awful?

Exhausted, you throw the pack of cigarettes and lighter into the open air. Both objects fall somewhere onto the football field, but you barely notice. You’re too focused on the tears in your eyes and the sobs that leave your mouth to pay attention to anything else.

You know it’s pathetic to sit on the bleachers and cry by yourself about the breakdown of your relationship, but the cyclone of emotions didn’t ask for permission when it hit you. It just did, violently and with little care for your wellbeing. You’re just glad to have the quiet time now to deal with the storm by yourself.

Or so you thought.

Someone walks up to you with both your cigarettes and lighter in his hands. Bang Chan, head quarterback for the football team and senior, smiles at you when you do look up in his direction. He steps back an inch when he notices your puffy eyes and red face. “Sorry,” he says. “Just saw you…lost these…and didn’t know if you wanted them back or not.”

You shake your head. “Throw them out if you want.”

Chan releases a surprised sigh. “Didn’t expect a cheerleader to smoke tobacco.”

His insight makes a smile appear on your lips in spite of the tears. “I never have. I just thought since I kicked one bad habit, why not replace it with another one?”

Chan laughs. He sits down next to you, but stays mindful of your space. “Sunghoon, right?”

You nod, his name a pit in your stomach. “You know him?”

”Just his reputation. Basketball guys can be real assholes.”

”And what about football players?” You counter. “You’re all just perfect angels?”

”Well, we prefer to call ourselves ‘realists’.” You share a laugh with him, relieved to feel something other than apathy or misery. It’s been so long since you’ve been around a guy who didn’t make you doubtful of yourself. Why not enjoy it?

You give Chan your name, but he tells you he was well aware of your presence before. “I mean, you cheer at our games too, y’know, so you’re hard not to notice.”

You blush, your puffy face suddenly red from the comment. “Well, you’re hard not to notice too, Chan.”

Maybe the future for you and Sunghoon had not played out the way you intended, but your future with someone else could potentially be pretty great.

JANUARY

Sunghoon feels pretty out of place every year once the end of the basketball season comes around. Now that he’s single, he wonders what could fill his spare time in a meaningful way. Besides academics, he comes up empty with ideas. 

He wouldn’t have chosen to be broken up with, but what else could he have done? He wasn’t going to grovel, not when you were the one making a big deal out of one fight. Eventually, you would come to your senses and come back. You both loved each other too much not to resolve the situation, even if weeks had rolled by without any communication.

Sunghoon is walking with Jay to second period when he sees you chatting with Chan, all smiles and body too close to the senior’s for Sunghoon’s comfort. Jay notices how tense his friend becomes seeing both you and Chan together, shoulders rigid and jaw tight.

”Would it be so bad if you just apologized? Even if you think you didn’t do anything wrong—“

”I know I didn’t,” Sunghoon cuts in, pissed off at the situation he’s in. How did Chan have any right to try and pull the charm out now that you’re available? It makes the blood inside of Sunghoon’s veins boil to a scorching temperature.

”You love her, man. Stop trying to be nonchalant about your feelings.”

The bell for late students rings, and everyone still in the hallway scatters to make it to their classes. Sunghoon feels the muscles in his body twitch seeing you walk away with Chan, arm in arm like you’re the closest of friends.

Writing notes for your physics class is hard when your best friend Wonyoung talks the entire time, her voice projecting to a high shrill. You manage to write while listening to her impassioned speech, but you stop altogether when the subject comes to you and Chan.

”When is he going to ask you out already? Everyone sees the way he looks at you.” Wonyoung bats her eyelashes with a suggestive smirk, and you thwack her away with your notebook.

”We’re just friends. And I’m not trying to date anyone right now.”

”Come on. It’s been three weeks. Nobody would blame you for putting yourself back out there.”

The intercom blares to life, and you hear your name and the request to be seen in the front office. You take your belongings in case the request involves some sort of emergency, your thoughts racing as you head out the door.

When you make it to the front office, all you see is Sunghoon with his back against the secretary’s counter, grinning ear to ear. You’re both alone for the first time since you broke up, and the awkwardness you feel is suffocating.

”Did you do this?” You ask, eyes rolling at his nonchalant posture.

“Miss Kang owed me a favor.” His eyes are vulnerable suddenly, the cloud of indifference shredding a touch. ”Besides, I wanted to see you.”

 Those words would’ve made you melt a long time ago, the early days of your relationship marked with gestures like this and sweet nothings leaving his lips. Now, you feel so far from the girl you were when you broke up with him.

”Well I want to get my lab done, so if you’ll excuse me—“

”Wait, wait, please.” He rushes to stop you from leaving the tiny office, his arm firm against the glass door in front of you.

”Sunghoon, this is not—“

”Please, just hear me out.”

You cross your arms and straighten your posture into a firm stance, looking directly in his eyes while waiting for the usual speech to leave his mouth.

You know you’re the only one I want.

”You know you’re the only one I want.”

My intention is never to fight with you.

”My intention is never to fight with you.”

All I want is to work this out, please.

”All I want is to work this out, please.”

You can’t help the broken laugh that leaves your lips, or the well of tears that build up behind your lashes. It’s both heartbreaking and comical that he thinks after weeks of nothing to show for his sudden humility, his half-baked, used-up monologue is the best way to mend your problems.

”Is that it?” you ask, deadpan.

Sunghoon stutters, suddenly at a loss for words. “What do you mean?”

”Is that all you want to say? ‘Cause if it is, then—”

”Why are you being like this?” His pleading tone suddenly becomes one of irritation. He’s not used to you putting up a fight, and now that you are, he doesn’t know how to handle it, like a toddler who can’t find their toy.

That’s all you were to him at the end of the day. A shiny doll to play with and discard when the circumstances didn’t suit him.

“I’m being like this because this is nothing new. And in another couple of days, it’ll be the same problems and the same excuses. It’s gotten old.” You walk out of the door, but hold it open just a touch to give him the last piece of your mind.

”You know what the worst part is, Sunghoon?” You clear your throat, failing to conceal the pain in your voice. “You didn’t even say you want me back because you love me.”

”Of course I love you!”

”Why? Why do you love me?” You throw your hands up at him, voice in tatters from how loud you’re screaming.

His response is exactly what you expected: nothing. No words come to mind or are adequate enough to describe the depth of his feelings for you, or lack thereof.

”That’s what I thought,” you say before walking away. If those are the last words you ever say to him, you’re glad you got them off of your chest.

The Spring Formal was all the talk of Sunghoon’s friends and their girlfriends once the date of the dance was announced. It was two months away, yet the hallways and classes were already littered with hearts and pink banners. Dance proposals were rampant, some even going viral on the school’s social media accounts.

It made Sunghoon sick to his stomach.

Four days ago, he thought he could win you back, but it only made you run further away from him. Was he that predictable? And what did that beefhead Chan have now that Sunghoon suddenly didn’t?

Playing video games with the guys and Heeseung’s girlfriend in attendance, he hoped it would take his mind off of things. But seeing his off-and-on adversary and partner loved up in the corner of Jake’s room didn’t help.

Sunghoon looks at the two of them laughing in each other’s arms and remembers the feeling of your body in his, the first weeks of dating being some of the best of his life. The quick texts during class, the impromptu kisses in his car before saying goodnight, and the secret drives to the beach on the weekends. He remembers them all, even if his cold nature made you think he had forgotten them with a cruel ease.

The memories pain his heart, and the image of a happy couple still basking in their newfound love does nothing but twist the knife.

“Can you guys not be all over each other in front of us? It’s disgusting.” Sunghoon remarks with sarcasm as he shoots one of Jake’s CPUs down. His friend grunts and tries to take out a person on Sunghoon’s team to even the playing field. 

Heeseung’s girlfriend quirks an eyebrow, still focused on her boyfriend but ready to throw a comeback Sunghoon’s way. “Aw, someone’s jealous, isn’t he?”

Her saying the words out loud causes the entire room to go quiet. The only sounds come from the TV and automated game dialogue.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sunghoon responds, his voice at a new low.

“Hey man. Watch how you speak to my girlfriend,” Heeseung interrupts, ready to jump from the beanbag he’s sitting in to put his teammate in his place.

His girlfriend places a tender hand on his forearm. “I got this, Hee.” She turns her attention back to Sunghoon, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. “I meant exactly what I said. Your girlfriend was tired of you being a complete prick to everyone, including her.”

Heeseung says his girlfriend’s name in warning, knowing she’s gone a bit too far, no matter how true her words are.

She doesn’t stop though, and Sunghoon is too shocked to form a sentence. “And seeing anyone else happy makes you realize how bad you fucked up and why she was right to drop you.”

Jake makes a face at her too, silently pleading for an end to the fight before more things are said that can’t be taken back.

Sunghoon throws the controller at the TV stand, the device breaking once it hits the wood. Jake and Heeseung curse at him for his reaction, but Sunghoon storms out of the bedroom before he lets his anger go any further.

He sits on the stairs in front of his friend’s house and feels the prick of tears in his eyes. It’s rare for him to allow himself to be vulnerable. The only person in his life who saw him this way was you, and without you, he doesn’t know how to pull himself back from the precipice. Was what Heeseung’s girlfriend said true? Were you right to leave him? Did he not deserve any more chances to do right by you, given how many times he fucked it up before, no matter how much he loved you?

In spite of everything he’s done wrong, he still does. He loves your fire, the stubbornness that mirrors his own so perfectly. He loves your crude sense of humor, the way you can make a joke out of anything, even in the worst of times to make him laugh. And he loves your sweetness, your capability to think of others before yourself, something he’s never been good at and always admired about you even if he never said it. He never said a lot of things he should’ve.

The questions and regrets flood his brain and make him wish he had a time machine. He would go back to the last hour you were together before everything fell apart. To be happy to have you in his arms and grateful to still hold your respect, your effort, and your love.

He hears someone walk up to him, but he doesn’t bother to look. “I’ll apologize later, okay, Jake? I don’t need a lecture right now.”

The feminine grumble makes Sunghoon turn his head, not expecting to see Heeseung’s girlfriend behind him.

“I came to apologize to you.”

Sunghoon looks back to the street in front of him. He decides to avoid prolonging the argument and nods his head. “It’s fine. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“Doesn’t mean it was okay.” She settles down on the stairs next to him. Sunghoon wiggles further towards the railing to make room for her. “Everyone deserves a chance to make things right. Even if they’ve been wrong a lot of the time.”

He discreetly wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “Even someone like me?”

She chuckles. “Especially someone like you.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Sunghoon doesn’t need to say the multitude of reasons why she deserves an apology. But it makes the aggression between the both of them, as well as a fragment of the guilt in Sunghoon’s heart, dissipate. All that’s left is relief.

She grins, the same feelings evident in her expression. “Apology accepted.”

Sunghoon lets a small smile appear on his lips. He has to practice apologizing more often; the feeling of making amends is pretty satisfying.

FEBRUARY

“Wonyoung, I don’t know where it is!” You say into the receiver of your phone, one hand holding the device to your face as the other rifles through the belongings in your locker. “And I doubt your bracelet is in here.”

“It has to be! I can’t think of any other place it could’ve gone,” she whines, sniffling. It isn’t her fault she’s home sick today, but she would get through her cold just fine without her lucky bracelet. As far as she’s concerned, however, it’s a matter of life and death.

“I’m sure we’ll find it so you can get over this cold,” you coddle her, still searching past the books and bags of snacks.

“I don’t care about that!” Her stuffy, squeaky voice makes you move the phone away from your ear. “I need it for the charity auction. How else are we going to get all of the items sold if I don’t have it?”

You roll your eyes, grateful she can’t see. “Just wow the PTA and student body with your impeccable charm.”

“Yeah yeah, have you found it yet?”

As you continue your search, an array of your belongings tumble out of your locker. You curse and bend down to pick the contents up. Most of them are some old notes for your current classes, but one makes you stop cold. 

Wonyoung’s words fade into the background as you hold up the photo strip of you and Sunghoon. The snapshots captured a perfect moment in time before the last six months of your relationship made everything take a turn for the worst.

“You can’t flip off the camera, Hoon!” You giggle as the timer starts for the next picture.

“It’s our pictures, so I have every right to use my middle finger whenever I want.” He nestles his head further into your neck, kissing the spot below your ear. You may be cramped sitting on Sunghoon’s lap in the photo booth of the arcade, but there’s no other place you’d rather be than with him.

As you laugh at his subsequent joke, the shutter goes off again.

“Your laugh is one of my favorite sounds, you know.” Sunghoon moves a stray hair away from your face, smiling ear to ear.

“That’s funny,” you say with a smirk. “That smile is my favorite thing ever.”

“Fuck off.” Sunghoon suddenly becomes shy, his cheeks turning pink.

“I swear, cross my heart.” You raise your hand in salute, and Sunghoon intertwines your fingers with his own.

As you seal your promise with a tender kiss to his lips, you hear the final click of the camera, content with whatever comes next.

You muffle your mouth with your hands, stifling the sob that started to leave your lips.

“Babe, you alright?” Wonyoung asks, another sniffle ending her question.

“Yeah I-I’m okay.” You shake off your sadness and stuff the photo strip in your locker again, half-determined to throw it in the trash nearby. “I gotta go, lunch is gonna be over in like fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. Next place would probably be your car, so just let me know later if you find it. Love you,” Wonyoung says at the end of the call.

Putting your phone in your back pocket and walking back towards the courtyard, you hear the rustle of hands clapping and feet stomping. Everyone at their picnic tables, like you, look towards the sounds.

The football team, all huddled up, begin chanting once you make it closer to them.

“Hey girl, you need a date. Why not make it #8?” They say the words in a morale-boosting rhythm, repeating them with vigor until other tables around them start chanting too. When the huddle opens at the center, Chan appears with a bouquet of flowers and a huge grin.

The team stops once he’s in front of you, Chan shy but determined. Once he gives you the bouquet, he asks, “Wanna be my date to the formal?”

You hide your face in your hands, a wide grin on your face in spite of your sudden bashfulness. Public proposals were never your thing, but with how much effort the guy put into the surprise, how could you say no?

“I’d love to,” you answer, giving him a hug as the crowd around you hollers in support. You’re grateful to have had Chan these past months while dealing with your heartbreak, it seemed to be a natural progression of your relationship. And while nothing’s set in stone, you’re happy something’s on the horizon for you.

But if you’re so happy, why is Sunghoon the first thing that pops in your head after you agree to Chan’s offer?

Thankfully, Wonyoung’s bracelet was in fact in your car behind the passenger seat. How she managed to get it back there was anyone’s guess, but hopefully that meant she would not be so freaked out about the charity auction next week.

In honor of Valentine’s Day, the high school allowed the cheerleading team to host a charity auction every year for a local nonprofit. This year’s was meant to be for the city’s homeless shelter. You worked there last summer to accumulate volunteer hours, and the people you met there had been on your mind every day since. Your goal was to make at least two thousand, but you wish you could do and earn more on your own accord for them. It was important to give back to others when you had so much and took it for granted. Some knew that better than others.

While printing pamphlets and auction tickets, your doorbell rang. You didn’t expect Wonyoung to be up to seeing anyone given her unwell state earlier on the phone, but it was her lucky bracelet. The faster she had it back in her possession the better.

Pulling the door open, the last person you expect to be waiting at your door is Sunghoon. His expression is an amalgamation of emotions, the biggest ones being disbelief and sorrow.

Any time before, back when he was your entire world, you would have pulled him into your arms and kissed away his pain. Even if you hate to admit it to yourself, a part of you still wishes you could.

But while you can be empathetic, you still have to be tough in his presence. Any sign of fragility, and he’ll see the opportunity to creep back in. “Why are you here, Sunghoon?”

“You’re dating him now?”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “What?”

“Chan. You’re together?” You see the tremble of his bottom lip and the lock of his jaw, his composure clearly hanging by a thread. It’s been a long time since you saw Sunghoon so unguarded, you’re unsure if it’s because he’s truly vulnerable or he’s on his last play to win you back.

No matter the reason, you answer with an exasperated sigh. “He just asked me to the formal, okay? He’s my friend.”

“Friends don’t ask friends to go to the dance with flowers.”

You bite your bottom lip, unsure what to say to that. “It doesn’t concern you anymore.”

Sunghoon releases a bitter chuckle, the sound of the laughter dying on his tongue midway. “It does concern me if you’re with someone else.”

“I just told you–”

“I get that.” He runs a hand through his hair, his voice frail at the edges. “But I know what it's like to want you, and I see it when Chan looks at you. And who can blame him right?”

Taking advantage of your stunned silence, Sunghoon keeps going. “When you asked me before why I love you, I didn’t realize how much I took advantage of you. I didn’t appreciate you the way I should’ve, and now I–I miss so many things. I miss the smell of your perfume in my car and the look you’d give me when you were calling me out on my bullshit, which was eighty-five percent of the time. I miss knowing you had my back even if I was in the wrong because you saw the best parts of me on days I didn’t see them at all.

“I miss you, and I love you, and I don’t know how to stop,” Sunghoon whispers. When he tries to step closer to you, you place a hand on his chest, safeguarding some sort of distance and composure between you. He presses his hand over yours, thumb rubbing across the skin on the back of your hand, making you suck in a breath.

It was every word and more that you yearned to hear from him since you parted ways. While the naysayers continued their dialogue about the demise of your relationship, nobody bothered to think about whether or not you wanted to let go in the first place. You had to, or it would’ve been the same patterns occurring over and over.

Maybe this moment, this speech, and this Sunghoon, can be a break in the chain. Maybe he’s truly adamant on turning over a new leaf for the better, for the chance to try again and do it right this time. Would it be so wrong to take the chance and give him the benefit of the doubt one more time?

But who truly knew he would change his ways except for Sunghoon himself? Could you run the risk of the cycle repeating itself again for the future you wanted? How were you meant to believe him this time with history on your side?

You retract your hand from his chest, your heart cracking in the parts he forced you to mend in the first place. “I can’t do this.”

He swallows forcefully and takes a step back, respecting your wishes. “I understand.” He walks down your driveway and to his car, leaving you with the image of his somber, close-lipped smile.

Sunghoon watches you walk back into your house, his heart in tatters. He looks at the bundle of roses sitting in the passenger seat and promises to himself to fight just a little longer. Giving up means losing you forever, and he’ll die before accepting that loss.

A big banner for the homeless shelter hangs on one of the gymnasium walls. The cheerleaders continue placing decor around the space for tomorrow’s auction, some hand-drawn by the girls and others donated from the PTA in previous years. You look around with your clipboard, items checked off throughout the day to signal your progress. With less than twenty-four hours to go before the auction, it was imperative to create the perfect atmosphere to sell as many items as possible.

Wonyoung skips over to you, her pigtails swinging in the air and a cluster of colorful streamers dangling from her hands. “Where do you want these, babe?”

“Lining the front of the bleachers. That way once the tables are set up we don’t have to work around them.” You check off another bullet, 

“You got it boss!” She winks at you, her expression teasing. Before she can walk away though, Principal Han and Coach Chae walk into the gym. Coach Chae has a bouquet while Principal Han holds a thin piece of paper.

The two gentlemen walk up to you and Wonyoung, beaming. ���Great turn of events ladies,” Principal Han says. “The auction has been canceled.”

“What,” Wonyoung yells. The two men flinch at her reaction, but Coach Chae laughs off his reaction.

“No need to worry, Miss Jang,” Coach Chae responds. “There will still be a gala. Just not an auction. Think of it as a celebratory gala, if you will.”

“What do you mean?” You ask. You press your clipboard tighter to your chest, anxiety spiking. You put your heart into this event for the success of the fundraiser. Why was it suddenly crashing down?

“Someone already donated more than enough to reach your goal. Five thousand, to be exact.”

A silent gasp leaves your lips. The clipboard almost slips from your fingers, but Wonyoung manages to catch it before it clatters onto the gym floor.

”Holy sh—sorry. Holy moly!” Wonyoung exclaims, a smile matching the ones on the older gentlemen’s faces.

“Congratulations, girls. Now you can kick your feet up and enjoy the festivities tomorrow all thanks to your mystery donor,” Principal Han says.

”Mystery donor?” The mix of emotions in your stomach morphs to confused curiosity. “They didn’t leave their name on the check?”

”No. Just the card that came with the flowers,” Coach Chae answers. He hands the bouquet of roses and the comment card to you, the floral smell suddenly wafting in your nose.

You could recognize the script anywhere, the slants and slopes of the handwriting belonging to only one person. The contents of the card make your heart swell and sink deeper, causing you to question everything once more.

For reminding me to cherish all the things I took for granted.

MARCH

On the night of the Spring Formal, a week had passed since that day in the gymnasium which upended a majority of your feelings. Your thoughts have run rampant in your mind since, regrets and doubts sitting at the forefront of your brain.

Your mother was fixing the last pieces of your hair into the intricate bun she created. Looking in the mirror, the tendrils of your bangs falling out from the hairstyle frame your face. Grace exudes from your makeup and the dress you’ve chosen, the strapless champagne gown the centerpiece of your entire look.

”You’re a vision, honey,” She says, her eyes bright in the hallway mirror behind you.

You may look beautiful, but your thoughts make you feel small, unsure of everything you thought you knew or wanted before.

You had not seen Sunghoon since that night on your front porch almost two weeks ago, your ex choosing to respect your wishes and stay away just as you requested. Now, in spite of all the ways he vexed you to no end, you missed him just like he said he missed you. Maybe you suppressed yourself from grieving the end of your relationship, jumping headfirst into a new friendship with Chan and the other priorities in your life. Or maybe it was because he still had your entire heart, even if you wished he didn’t.

”Chan should be here any minute,” your mother says, interrupting your thoughts.

You respond with a nod and small smile, fidgeting with the top of your dress to conceal some of your cleavage.

Your mother frowns. ”Honey, what’s wrong?” She puts her hands on your shoulders, her presence the right amount of concerned and warm.

”Do you think people can change?”

She gives you a knowing smile, the topic of conversation not being said out loud but obvious to the both of you. “When someone has the desire to, they can. Especially when they have a good reason to.”

The doorbell rings, and she kisses you on the cheek. “I’ll let you get that. I’m gonna run and grab the camera.”

You answer the door, half-expecting to see Chan with flowers and his signature grin. What you find, however, makes your heart constrict with surprise and longing that you didn’t expect to feel so strongly.

Sunghoon in a three-piece suit, hair slicked back, and a corsage looks like the picture-perfect man. When you envisioned this night before, the image of him in front of you always came to mind. And now, you could not be closer to and further from those expectations.

“I wanted to give you this before…I mean, I already bought it, and you deserve to have it.” He twiddles the corsage between his hands. His eyes ask for explicit permission before he places it on your wrist.

Without a second thought, you nod.

Sunghoon steps closer, relieved to have received the green light. The tension between you is palpable in the air, flickering hot and reflecting the same feelings you harbored weeks ago when you were in the same position then. He carefully puts the strap around your wrist, tightening it until it’s snug. 

The golden-trimmed roses match your dress flawlessly, so much so you wonder how he managed to remember the color of the dress you dreamed of for this night.

Like he can read your mind, he says, “You’ve been talking about this dance since the start of the school year.” He laughs, the sound hollow.

“Thank you,” you say, the two words expanding far beyond the roses on your wrist.

Thank you for the flowers. Thank you for going above and beyond with that check. Thank you for showing you’re trying.

The smile he gives you touches his eyes, the edges of his expression almost golden in the light of the sunset. “It’s the least I could do.”

Without thinking, he’s so close you can feel the rising pace of his and your breath mixing together. It would be so easy to close the distance, touch his lips with yours, and fall back into his embrace with no regard for the next minute.

Before you can contemplate it further, you see Chan out of the corner of your eye walking up your driveway. His mouth is in a firm line and his posture reflects his discomfort.

Sunghoon steps away from you. He acknowledges Chan with a nod, not terse or disrespectful, but clearly disappointed. He kisses the back of your palm quickly and lets it go. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

Before he walks away for good, leaving you and Chan alone, he finishes with, “By the way, you look breathtaking.”

As Chan gets closer and Sunghoon heads down the road to his car, you think maybe your ex is taking all of your breath with him.

Sunghoon downs the drink in the plastic cup. The tinge of alcohol Jay put in his drink can’t seem to take away the burn of watching you and Chan dance together. The DJ for the dance is playing  an uptempo number. Thankfully you’re not holding each other close, but it’s still a punch to the stomach seeing you smiling with a guy that isn’t him. In a gym filled with so many of his peers, he’s never felt so alone.

He drove to the dance by himself, Jake and Jay too entangled in their own love lives to soften the blow of Sunghoon’s continued misery. Heeseung and his girlfriend remain loved up in their own private corner of the dance floor. Sunghoon isn’t jealous or petty, though, although he’s well-accustomed to both emotions at this point. All he feels is some semblance of gratitude for the people enjoying the festivities of the night with a person they care about.

Heeseung’s girlfriend steps away from her partner with a kiss on his lips, somehow sensing Sunghoon’s despair. She walks over to him, a sad smile on her face as she approaches the lone guy at his idle table. “No luck, huh?”

Sunghoon nods and tips his drink at her. “You could say that.”

Heeseung comes up in record time, Sunghoon’s teammate unable to stay away from his lover for too long. He clears his throat and looks toward the younger guy with quiet condolences. “Listen, Hoon. Just talk to her and be honest. Stop dancing around your feelings.”

Sunghoon scoffs into his cup, the sound echoing in the plastic. “As if I could steal her away from beefcake over there. Like your missus said, she’s better off.”

“You know I apologized for that!” Heeseung’s girlfriend mirrors Sunghoon’s reaction, puffing out a breath of air and rolling her eyes. “And if that’s the case, why has she been looking over here at least every five minutes?”

Sunghoon glances past the rim of his cup and catches you staring just as Heeseung’s girlfriend makes her point.

Your eyes are filled with a plethora of unspoken feelings, ones Sunghoon may have the words for but cannot manage to speak. Why did words hold so much more power when it was too late to say them? Did he still have time at all, or was the opportunity to be transparent long gone? It’s too much to process; all he can do is look away from you, the guilt hitting him square in his chest.

Heeseung and his girlfriend share a conspiratory look, plotting something. Sunghoon takes a gulp of air, unsure if he wants to know exactly what they’re planning.

“Be on the rooftop in ten minutes. And make sure you know what you’re gonna say, idiot,” Heeseung’s girlfriend commands, her smirk flashing wickedly under the gymnasium lights.

“Hey!” Heeseung and his girlfriend run up to your spot by the punch bowl. You were absentmindedly staring at the fruit concoction in the tub while Chan had raced off to the bathroom, promising to be back in five.

“What’s up?” You ask, giving his girlfriend a polite and acknowledging smile.

“Something happened on the rooftop with one of the girls on the squad. I think she got food poisoning or something,”

“Yeah,” Heeseung’s girlfriend comments. “Wonyoung told us to get you ‘cause she needs some help bringing the poor girl back downstairs.”

You roll your eyes and set your cup on the plastic table in front of you. If it’s Leeseo again, you may just have to kill her.

The couple follows close behind as you make it to the stairwell door leading up to the rooftop. You wonder why the two didn’t help Wonyoung in the first place, but maybe the girl in question requested you personally and didn’t want to be embarrassed by being assisted by strangers.

Opening the rooftop entrance, you see Sunghoon standing near the edge, kicking gravel off the side of the building. Your heart seizes up, glad but caught off-guard to be seeing him right now.

In an instant, the door closes behind you, locking from the outside. You bang on it, unsure what’s happening. “What the fuck, guys?”

“You’re not coming out until we hear some talking!”

The sudden quiet is deafening, the only reprieve being the breeze passing through the trees surrounding the school. You run your hands across your arms, feeling the chill now that you’re outside but also unsure of what to do in this situation.

Sunghoon immediately sheds his jacket and walks over to you. He waits with the article in his hands before you nod meekly. He wraps it around your shoulders protectively, making sure your arms go through the sleeves. “Better?”

“Much, thank you,” you whisper.

Sunghoon looks deeply into your eyes, knocking any subsequent words from your conscious mind. You bite your lip instinctively, tense from his lack of distance between your bodies. Why did he still have the capability to steal your train of thought without trying?

He blows out a breath, the sound of his voice flimsy in the spring air. “When I first joined the basketball team, I didn’t know if and how I would measure up,” Sunghoon begins. “I was fifteen and terrified of playing next to someone as good as Heeseung and always being compared to him.

“And I took all those worries about being not good enough and took it out on everyone. I let it ruin the most perfect thing in my life because I thought acting like I didn’t care would stop me from feeling insecure. What an idiot, right?”

Sunghoon brushes a free bang from your face. His eyes are glassy, the vulnerability he’s showing you at an all-time high. “I should’ve realized the girl I love didn’t care if I was the best or the worst basketball player ever, as long as I was hers and didn’t forget it. I just didn’t know it then. And now that I’ve realized what a fool I’ve been, all I want now is to spend the rest of my time making it up to her.”

The confession knocks any remaining resolve out of you, unable to bear the pain in his face or the uncertainty that hangs in the air. You slam your lips into his, the kiss both bruising and healing in the same motion. It rejuvenates all the parts of you that had been withered away since the night you broke up and couldn’t be revived without him.

Sunghoon feels the effects of the kiss as well, his gasps and whimpers exemplifying his surprise and relief to have you back in his arms. Holding you, kissing you, being with you, you can tell he’s worried the moment’s a figment of his imagination. If he doesn’t cherish it, you’ll float away. And he can’t survive that for a second time.

You part for air, but your lips still ghost over each other’s, unable to be parted now that he’s within your reach again.

With your voice laced with the unshed tears in your eyes, you ask, “What took you so damn long, you idiot?”

Sunghoon can only respond with a joyful laugh and another kiss to your lips, making up for his unsaid apologies and shit timing with his mouth.

Now that your body is against his, your hearts beating rapidly but once-again in tune with each other, he’s certain now he’ll never be stupid enough to forget your worth and let you go again. Because the pleasure he used to call home is back in his life, and he couldn’t feel more at ease.

Sunghoon’s laughing when he unlocks the front door of his house, his face in a permanent grin since you kissed a few hours prior. You spent the time before ending up here driving around town, too enraptured with each other to focus on your friends or the rest of the dance’s festivities. You didn’t leave without Heeseung giving Sunghoon a slap to the back and Wonyoung crying at your reconciliation.

The house is quiet, a result of Sunghoon’s parents being abroad for the past few days. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look, by the way?” Sunghoon mentions again when he closes the door behind you. He immediately pulls you in by the waist, showering the skin of your neck in kisses.

You giggle and weave your hands into his hair, a gasp leaving you when he takes your earlobe between his teeth. “Probably for the hundredth time by now.”

“Well you do.” He presses another kiss to the spot below your ear, making you shiver. “And I’m not gonna stop saying it.”

You smirk and move your hands to both sides of his face, forcing you to look at him. “I didn’t expect the night to go like this.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.” His voice is teasing, but his eyes are suddenly lined with anxiety. His body tenses in your embrace, the worry that you’re having second thoughts weighing on his happiness.

You ease his doubts with a deep kiss, holding him close and hoping that assures him you’re not going anywhere. “A great thing.”

The smile you love so much appears once he’s at peace, and peppers your entire face with kisses. You laugh out loud, but he can tell you love the adoration he’s providing you.

You could definitely get used to this new Sunghoon, the night already filled with so much magic.

“I’ll be back.” He grins wide, canines on full display. Another kiss punctuates the sentence. “Don’t go anywhere.” Another.

You laugh out loud and nod your head. He dramatically holds onto your hand until he’s forced to let go. He runs down the hallway and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you in the sitting room of his house.

Twenty minutes later, you’re sitting on the loveseat in the sitting room when Sunghoon comes back out.

“My lady, follow me.” He bows and holds out his hand for you to take, and you smile ear to ear when you lace your fingers with his. You’re unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side of his bedroom door, but you know it must be another surprise your boyfriend has gone above and beyond to amaze you with.

Surely enough, it makes you gasp out loud and press your free hand to your chest.

Sunghoon’s bedroom is showered in a radiant glow from dozens of candles, all different sizes but the same light creating a sweet, calming ambience. Fairy lights hang on the walls, aiding in the atmosphere he’s created. Music plays at a low sound from the speakers near the television, Sunghoon’s phone hooked up to the system. To top it all off, there’s another bouquet of white roses sitting on his side table, some petals lining the edges of the floor around his bed.

When you thought about this night in your dreams, it always ended here, being so in love. He’s made those dreams come true, right down to the letter, and you could not be more in love with him than in this moment.

Sunghoon comes closer. He presses his chest to your back, encasing your body with his arms and kissing your neck once again. You try to stifle the sob that comes out, but he hears it and retracts. “Shit, do you not like it? I can blow the candles out and–”

You turn in his embrace, shaking your head furiously. “No, I love it.” You wipe your tears, laughing at the reaction he’s pulled out of you. “I’m just–it doesn’t feel like it’s real.”

“It is.” He takes the side of your face in his hand, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “And I’ll remind you every day if you need me to.”

“I love you so much,” you respond, kissing the inside of his palm. You pull him closer, reconnecting your lips with his. You feel whole in a way you haven’t in weeks, knowing now for certain this happiness coupled with Sunghoon’s love is the perfect combination to sustain you.

“I love you too,” he says in between kisses, his mouth turning sloppy. You feel his growing hardness against you. It had been months since the last time you were intimate. You think as Sunghoon pulls you in closer than before, groaning into your mouth, that tonight’s the perfect time to reconnect in more ways than just emotionally.

“I missed you so much,” you moan, tugging his jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. You run your arms across his chest, still covered by the cotton button up he’s wearing, but you quickly make do with the buttons on his shirt to feel the skin underneath. 

He shivers under your touch, but he manages to find the zipper of your dress and lower it down until the dress easily slips from your body. You step out of it, careful not to tread over the fabric. Your focus remains on  undressing Sunghoon until he’s as naked as you are, wearing only your underwear and shoes. He’s shirtless thanks to you undoing his buttons, but you want all of him exposed.

You try to pull down the zipper of his pants, but he stops you, his eyes lust-filled but patient. “This night is about you, baby. Not me.”

“Please, let me touch you.” You whine, holding onto the belt-loops on his pants.

“Not yet.” He moves you both back until you’re at the edge of the bed. He motions for you to sit down. Once you do, he gets onto his knees in front of you, the man you love on a mission. “Let me make you feel good first.”

He takes the heels off of your feet and sets them down beside your dress. When he does, he begins his slow torture of kissing up your ankles to the insides of your thighs. You lay your body back on his bed, whimpering and body on the verge of shaking when he finally pulls the underwear from your legs.

“Fuck, Hoon,” you say out loud when he presses a kiss to your clit, taking the nub between his lips and sucking tenderly while rubbing his hands on the curves of your hips. He takes one hand to reach out and grab one of your breasts, expertly taking your nipple between his thumb and index finger as his tongue licks along the insides of your center. “Please don’t stop,” you whisper.

“Wasn’t planning on it, my love.” His tongue moves at a faster pace, matching the writhing of your hips crashing into his face to gain every ounce of pleasure he’s giving you.

Before, you wouldn’t have imagined being back in this bedroom with him, and now there’s no other place you wanted to exist.

“Hoon, please. I want you,” you say, one hand clutching his comforter and the other entangled in his hair.

“You have me, always.” His tongue slips inside of your pussy, the feeling of the muscle against your walls causing you to cry out in pleasure.

“I’m not moving until you come, baby. I know you’re close.” The pleasure has been building since the moment he had his mouth wrapped around your neck when you stepped into his house. And now, with his mouth buried inside of you and sweet words accompanying such dirty actions fuels your body’s speedrun to your release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you curse, your orgasm hitting you like the crash of a wave before you go underwater. But you don’t care to drown if it feels this satisfying.

You laugh breathlessly when the end of your release comes. Sunghoon wipes your essence off of his lips with the back of his hand, smiling bashfully. Every action of his before is incredibly contrary to his shy expression, but you love it.

Ridding himself of his pants, Sunghoon’s cock springs free from the constricting article of clothing. The tip is leaking with precum, but he isn’t in a rush to jump on top of you like the many times before when you both were too frustrated to worry with foreplay.

He kisses you with all he has when he crawls on top of you. His tongue inside of your mouth fills it with the taste of your slick. In a blip, he has a condom in his hand and puts it on with quick skill. There’s no need to prep you, your previous orgasm leaving you wet and waiting for him to line up with your entrance and slip inside.

He does it expertly. Both of you tremble from the feeling you long forgot felt so otherworldly, his cock making a home within your walls and your body adjusting to the delicious stretch.

The song in the background fills your ears with the sounds of a slow-strumming guitar, reflecting the thrust of Sunghoon’s hips. Your hips meet his when he’s filled you to the hilt, causing you to sigh. “Fuck, just like that.”

“You’re so beautiful,” Sunghoon whispers between thrusts, moaning sweet nothings into your mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you whisper in kind, gasping. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each press of his hips, exiting slowly and pushing back inside until there’s no space left to accommodate him.

How could you be so filled, figuratively and literally, by the love he had to offer you? For anyone else who’s never known the feelings stirring inside of you, a mixture of sinful pleasure and pure happiness, you feel sorry for them. If everyone in the world did, they might have been labeled as two extra wonders of the world.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come again,” you say, clutching onto his hips. You bite down on the skin of his shoulder, releasing your moans into his skin as his pace speeds up.

“Yes, baby, give it to me,” he groans, gulping hard and body frantic to take you both to the your climaxes. You feel the stars behind your eyes when your second orgasm comes, a long cry leaving your lips. Sunghoon matches it with a broken moan, the sound coming out in fragments as he spills inside of the condom.

Sunghoon lathers your face in deep, heartfelt kisses before pulling out. He walks to the bathroom quickly, throwing away the condom in the trash and grabbing a cloth to clean you up. He runs the fabric between your legs, careful not to press down too hard and overstimulate you.

You both crawl under the covers after he throws the rag in his hamper, your body immediately snuggling into his. The crown of your head receives another blitz of kisses, your smile hurting your cheeks from how wide it goes.

“I love you,” Sunghoon says, the words coming without a second thought.

And with no regrets on your mind or in your heart, resolute in your decision to forgive him, you say, “I love you, too, Hoon. Always.”

People could always change if they had the determination and inspiration to do so, and you know that for sure now. In  the arms of the one you love, that fact could not be more true.

@mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @dreamiestay

[dumplingsjinson]

List of random dialogue prompts (pt. 3)

“Truth be told? I miss the times — the me — before I fell in love with you.” 

“You know, I can see myself in, on top of, or under you. What do you say?” “I can see you buried six feet under my very feet if you don’t stop joking about this shit with me.” 

“Was there a point when you fell out of love with me?” “There was a point when I fell in love with you, but never out.”

“When did you fall out of love with me?” “That’s the thing: I never fell out of love with you. You’re the one who fell out of love with me.”

“Right person, wrong time… What if this is the right time? We’re just the wrong people for each other.”

“You have me wrapped around your fingers. Crazy part is, I don’t mind it.” 

“Don’t forget this: I made you. I can easily break you if I wanted to.” 

“I shared pieces of me, with so many people, and none of them kept those pieces safe, and I don’t know if I can risk that with you because it would devastate me if you turn out to be the same as them all. I would be completely destroyed.” 

“Don’t give me that look.”

“You okay?” “No. I need hugs. From you. I need you to hug me.” 

“I just wanna fucking get over you so I can be okay again.” 

“Stop trying to remind me that you’re still in my life. I’m trying to not think about you, for God’s sake.”

“I wanna kiss you so badly right now but we’re in public and I know you hate public display of affection—“ “I’ll allow you to do it this time.” “Wait… Really?” 

“I make shitty decisions and you’re a testament to that matter.”

“I have things to do, and most of them include me trying not to think about you.”

“I’ve never cried because of someone, you know? I didn’t have anyone to cry over. You’re the first, and you’ll also be the last, or so God help me through this embarrassment.” 

“Breaking up with me does not mean you had to kick me off your Spotify playlist, you know? Because damn. As much as I’m upset, your list had some bangers.” 

“You don’t get to do decide my feelings for you.” 

“I’m not bitchless, you fucking dickhead. Take that back!” 

“Every little thing reminds me of you, which sucks because you’re not in my life anymore.”

“It’s kinda weird not seeing your name on my phone when I wake up. It’s gonna take me some time to get used to this.”

“I think I knew this wasn’t going to last when I realised it’s not that I trust you. It’s that I don’t care what you do, and who you might be fucking around with.”

“One text from you has me happier than a child whose mother bought them their favourite candy. It’s not okay.” 

“I don’t share my Spotify playlist with just anyone. It’s like a secret love language of mine, reserved for those I want to let in. You’re one of them, yet you’re here thinking I don’t feel the same way about you?”

“I dunno, I just… Kinda fell for you.”

“You’re the reason why I fell in love with you. You, as a whole.” 

“There are some songs that I can’t listen to anymore, because they remind me of you; of all the times we’ve had together. And it sucks because some of them are great songs. And you fucking ruined them, you asshole.”

“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care, because I do. I fucking do, and that’s what makes this even worse.” 

“One thing you should know about me is that I suck at letting go.”

“So you’re telling me I’m supposed to sit here and give a fuck? You couldn’t pay me enough to do that. I have places to be and things to do.” 

“You need to stop being such a dramatic bitch.” “It’s the only way I can entertain myself, okay? Now piss off and leave me be.” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“You deserve someone better than me—” “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

“You ever think about how good we could have been together?” “Yeah. I think about it all the time, and then I remember how badly you fumbled. So yeah, good job.”

“You’re blushing.” “I’m not.” “…Then I guess I’ll have to give you something to blush over.”

“I lost myself while trying to find the good in you.”

“I think it’s comforting that they’re somewhere out there… Even if we never speak again, you know? They were a part of my life, even if it was only for a little while. They made me feel good, even if it was only for a short amount of time.” 

“Remember when you said you’d catch me when I fell? Well, you’re a fucking liar. Figuratively and literally. Now I’m hospitalised and also emotionally scarred. I hope you’re fucking happy about that.” 

“If we break up, I’d look for you in other people and be reminded that they are not you, and that I’d never find someone like you again. And… I don’t think I can bear the thought of that.”

“I give you permission to break my heart.” “And I give you permission to end me if I ever do break your heart.” 

“I have things to do—“ “And I’m one of them.”

“You’re only saying sorry because you want to make yourself feel better, so you can go shove that sweet apology up your ass because it doesn’t mean shit. I hope you continue to feel like shit over what you did, because I’m never forgiving you.”

“I had expectations for someone I knew couldn’t meet those expectations, so that’s my fault for expecting anything from you at all.”

“You? Breaking my heart? It’s funny how you think you even have that power over me.”

“You were like a routine that I loved and it felt… comfortable. But I guess that’s not the case anymore.” 

“You fell in love with the idea of someone that wasn’t even real. You fell in love with your own projections. How are you so foolish to think that it would have worked out?”

“I’m fine. Of course I’m fine.” “Everything about this interaction is telling me you’re not fine — not even close.”

“The idea of us was perfect. Blame me for thinking it would turn out into something good and as fantastical as what I made it out to be in my head.”

“Because no matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s about to drive me to the very brink of insanity, so if you’ll excuse me for not wanting to be near you, that would great.”

“I would not be who I am today if not for you.” 

(pt 1.) | (pt. 2)

[melrodrigo]

music nerds

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jenna stumbles upon a tiny vinyl shop, and thinks the employee is mighty cute.

A/n: here it is nerds, my first jenna fic. Was in a silly goofy mood, I miss my babygirl so.

It started at the vinyl shop. You, rearranging the different records into the correct sections, stood humming absentmindedly to the tune of the song playing.

“How’s my favorite employee of the month doing?” Your coworker (and best friend) Harry pipes up, leaning on the shelves opposite you.

“You can stop calling me that, we both know the only reason I got crowned this month was because you missed six days and I had to cover for your ass.” You mumble, slightly annoyed. It had been a long day, with customers shuffling in and out without ever buying anything. It didn’t help that the only customers Harry attended to were girls he thought were cute.

He nudges you a little, trying to prompt you away from rearranging the vinyls.

When you don’t answer, he huffs a little and then makes his way to the back—no doubt about to take a nap—where he’ll stay until closing time.

You sigh softly, shaking your head.

Even though you loved Harry to shreds, you hated being his coworker. He could be trusted with nothing.

You move over to the next section, swaying a little to the tune, losing yourself in the music.

You’re aware of the jingle of the bell that indicates someone has entered as you shuffle through the records.

They could take care of themselves for just a few minutes, you reckon.

Soft footsteps sound from behind you, and the sound of someone putting a stop to the music makes you frown. Then, there’s a tiny scratching noise before the melody of I am Controlled By Your Love by Helene Smith sounds through the tiny store.

You can’t help the tiny smile that envelops your face; and the surprise that echos through your mind. You’d just found out about this song, while scrolling through a playlist someone had made for your celebrity crush, Jenna Ortega.

Apparently she liked the song, if you remembered correctly from watching one of her interviews passingly.

“Great choice.” You tell whoever put it on, still not turning to face them.

“Thanks, I’m surprised this place has it. I’ve been looking for weeks.” A girl answers, and it sounds vaguely familiar.

“Well, we sure do. One of the best vinyl stores in the country if I do say so myself.” You smile, finally finishing tampering with the discs and turn to your customer.

It takes everything in you to not gasp out loud—standing in front of you was the Jenna Ortega.

You feel your hands grip the shelves just a little tighter, and you prayed to god that Jenna didn’t see the blush very quickly climbing up your neck.

“One of the best, huh?” She smiles, and you swear you could feel your heart physically melt.

She looks, if not better, exactly like in the pictures. It’s surreal, this person you see almost everyday on your phone, standing in front of you.

She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and some baggy jeans. There are sunglasses blocking her eyes, maybe to try to avert attention, but you could tell in an instant who she was.

You think she knows too, by the way she’s smirking a little.

“Yeah, and there are a ton of artists just like the one you just put on, at the back corner over there.” You point with shaky fingers, cursing yourself for looking so stupid.

She nods and disappears further into the store, and you breathe out in relief.

Holy shit! Jenna Ortega!

You place a hand over your heart, reminding yourself to be normal and check if you’re still breathing.

“Uh-I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it. Where did you say?” She pops her head out from one of the shelves, cocking her head to the side.

You grab your bearings, determined to not make a fool of yourself.

You were an employee. Just an employee helping out a confused customer.

“It’s hard to find, believe me I know.” You smile reassuringly, sauntering over to where she was standing.

“Here, just follow me.” You say, weaving through the maze that was this tiny vinyl store.

She bumps into you a few times, saying a soft sorry as she does. You placate her worries with soft it’s okays everytime she does.

“Ahah! Right here. My pride and joy.” You beam, getting used to having her so close and relaxing.

“What would you recommend?” She muses, flicking through the artists.

“Well, I’m a Beatles girl myself,” You tell her, looking over the records, “but I am a sucker for The Mamas & The Papas.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, and you hold your hands up in defeat.

“I know, I know! I’m a mainstream whore.” You say before you can stop yourself, something definitely inappropriate to say to a customer.

Jenna lets out a little giggle, fast like she can’t help herself.

You take the opportunity to keep talking, since she seems interested in the music over here.

“But, there is another artist somewhere here, I think you’ll like.” You wink, then mentally face palm yourself.

You turn back to the records in order to hide your expression, finally finding the guy you were looking for.

“Frank Zappa.” You explain as you hand it over to her. “An instrumental.”

She looks at it thoughtfully, inspecting the album art; then looks up at you and smiles. Her brown eyes make you want to cry and scream, but you keep your composure.

“You have nice eyes.” She murmurs, eyes flickering over your face. Then, just as fast, she turns away and walks back the way you came.

“What just happened.” You breathe once she’s out of earshot, carefully walking back to the cashier.

She’s waiting, texting someone on her phone.

When you slide up behind the counter, all flirty smiles, she tilts her head.

“Took you long enough.” She teases, scrunching her nose in embarrassment unconsciously.

You stutter endlessly, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. It all comes out in one jumbled poor excuse of a sentence that you try to cover up with a cough.

You slide her things over and scan them, not daring to look at her probably smug face.

“That’s all.” You say, somewhat bashfully, stealing a glance back at her.

Her eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place, but something you can certainly feel. Warmth envelops you whole, your knees turning into jelly.

You put her stuff into a plastic bag, hand them over, and bite back the hitch of breath when your hand grazes hers.

She bites her lip thoughtfully, shifting on her feet. The bag is in her hands now, she’s free to leave.

But still, she stands there, looking like she’s thinking very hard about something.

You try and prompt her out of her thoughts, murmur a quiet, “Anything else?” and watches as she takes out her phone and pushes it to your side of the desk.

“Yeah. Your number.” She squeaks, blushing a faint pink. She clears her throat and says it again, in a tone deeper than before.

It takes absolutely everything in you to keep your mouth shut. It desperately desperately wants to drop, not quite computing what is really happening.

You take it before she can change her mind, quickly jamming in your number and taking a quick photo for the profile.

She beams as you hand it back to her, not bothering to stop the cheeky satisfied smile that wants to take over her lips.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” She asks, and you nod adamantly, forgetting all pretense of chill.

“Right. Uh huh. Super!” You call out as she makes her way out the door, shaking her head at your dorkiness.

“Holy shit!” You yell this time, breathing out a huge sigh of relief you didn’t even know you were holding.

You’re rooted to the spot, afraid that if you move you’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.

“Wha-What happened?” Harry comes tumbling out the back door, plastic baseball bat in hand.

You lock eyes with him and let yourself fall down into the nearest chair, all wild eyes.

“I just got Jenna Ortega’s number!” You tell him, letting your hands run through your hair, happy and stressed.

His eyes narrow, then he shoots you a lopsided smirk.

“Sure you did.” He says, letting the baseball bat fall beside him, guard down.

“No Harry, she really came in here! And asked me for my number!” You yell, exasperated.

You can tell he doesn’t really believe you, but all it takes is one good look at your face, all white and red at the same time, and he’s widening his eyes comically wide.

“No fucking way.” He gushes, sliding over to sit beside you. He practically preens over you, all questioning eyes.

“Well what did you do?” He pushes, waiting for you to elaborate.

You tell him the whole story, slightly reveling in his reactions. He never fails to make you laugh at his comments.

“So…what now?” Harry asks after a minute, raising his eyebrows.

You sigh. “I don’t know, I guess I’m gonna have to wait for her to call me. Who knows how long that’s gonna take.”

“Well, you better be ready for her when she does. Oh my god we so need to do a makeover.” He rambles, turning on his phone to look at hairdressers nearby. You lean back into your chair, overwhelmed.

For now, you’re worry-less. Jenna Ortega just asked for your number, and you think you couldn’t be luckier. The only thing to do now was wait, and so you do.

[sanakimohara]

[ YOU ] PT. 2 B. C.

pairing: chan x fem! reader

summary: Stalker AU

playlist:

warnings: MDNI + NSFW + ANGST + SMUT + KIDNAPPING + STALKING + STOCKHOLM SYNDROME + CNC + MENTIONS OF MURDER + TRAUMA + CHOKING + SLIGHT EXHIBITIONISM

type: full fic / angst / smut / horror

a/n: thinking of putting this one on AO3…also did you guys watch their AMAs performance last night?

“Here, baby. It’s your favorite, just like you wanted.”

Chan’s smile stretched wider as he set the items on the table, his eyes full of obsessive warmth as he watched your every move….

Every expression you made.

Every ghost of a shiver that ran up your spine.

Three weeks into being safe and sound with him, you still hadn’t learned to trust him completely:

To completely twist yourself free from the gut-wrenching fear of him.

What would a man like Christopher Chan Bahng do if you made one wrong move, said one nasty word, or refused one of his heartfelt offerings?

You hadn't the courage to get an answer to the question.

Not yet, anyway.

Sitting there in a kitchen you’d only just learned existed down the hall from the room he’d kept you for the first week and a half felt oddly freeing.

It was one of the few places Chan let you roam around in his part-time abode -and only if he was present when you did so.

“There are rules,” he’d told you the first night, having coaxed you to listen to what he had to say if he agreed to unbind you from the bed and against your better judgment and the prying instinct to make a run for the unlocked door behind him…

You sat idly as he eased into a one-sided conversation.

“You have rules…here…with me,” Chan clarified, smiling small, but his voice still holding twinges of directness. “There’s not a lot, and I know you’ll be able to remember them. Responsible as you are…”

He trailed off, eyes softening on you as admiration clouded them.

That singular stare numbed your nerves in the moment. A blatant indication to you of how long and thoroughly he’d been watching you.

He'd been cataloging your life and all its highs and lows.

Chan knew you were responsible because he’d seen it from afar, observing how dedicated you were to keeping the shop in order when your boss wouldn’t. How you made it a point to check your surroundings every time you ventured from your apartment alone.

Now you realize you hadn't been as vigilant or responsible as you thought.

Chan intended to fix that.

Your heartbeat dropped its pace, slowing to a lowered thrum in your ears as you watched him watch you.

Expectations and boundaries spilled from his lips like all those fleeting compliments he’d given you in the record store.

“You have a beautiful smile. Adorable even…”

“Never leave this room without my permission. Everything you’ll ever need is already here, and if you don’t have it, I’ll get it for you. Just ask…”

“I like your taste in music. It’s refreshing to get someone else’s opinions…”

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you. Always. So I know you’re listening and understand what I’m telling you.”

“Sorry, this may be a little forward of me, but would you like to hang out sometime?”

“You will take care of yourself. Shower, get ready, get dressed, and eat every meal I give you. No exceptions. No excuses, princess..”

“It was nice to meet you, pretty girl. I’ll give you a call later! Oh, and thanks for the help..”

“I’m doing this for your good, Y/n. All you have to do is listen…don’t think… listen to me.”

Rules.

Sweet nothings.

They mixed when Chan spoke, blending as you swallowed the urge to sob aloud while he eyed you from the edge of the bed. “Tell me you understand what I’ve said, sweetheart.” The blonde tilted his head, voice warm but expression void of lenient compassion for the pain etched across yours.

Your tongue felt drier at the moment, your head spinning, and your blood cold as you refused to speak to him.

Chan’s eyes narrowed an inch; his slight change in expression made you withdraw.

“I said tell me you understand.”

Your lips parted before you could pull your subconsciousness from the grips of instinctual survival. “Y-yes I under…under..stand…” you croaked quietly, curling in on yourself when he let his lips settle into a minuscule smirk.

“Good girl… learning so fast already…”

A knot of pure hatred mixed with an unfamiliar emotion twisted in your chest upon hearing him casually utter such a demeaning phrase.

It still rang in your head every time he was near you. That same unnamed gut feeling rooted itself in your core with each day you remained entangled in his version of contentment.

Trapping you in his sick and twisted version of a happy home.

A happy life with him and only him.

Chan sat next to you at the kitchen island, twisting his barstool to face yours. He pushed the familiar brown bag and plastic cup to you, inching closer.

“…. Just for you, like I promised.”

You didn’t move, frozen in place by practiced stubbornness and conflicted with your thoughts as you stared at the treat you’d been craving for what felt like half a lifetime…

But if you were doing your math right, counted the hours he was away, and constructed them into the time he spent with you, then that meant…

It’d been three Sundays since he’d taken you from that brick alleyway.

Three…long…tense…suffocating, and confusing …weeks.

The air under your nose wafted with the crisp tinge of warm pastry puff and strawberry filling. Your eyes settled on a dollop of whipped cream melting into the drink.

Your mouth watered, having been stripped of anything overly sweet for weeks, all thanks to Chan’s intentional and well-balanced meals for you.

What he ate, you ate.

The same went for almost anything else you’d experienced in his care.

What he laid out for you to wear, you wore.

What he watched, you watched.

What he said, you obeyed.

Weeks of falling into a nearly sunless state of compliance, unsure of how to feel about it, and even more affairs of becoming entirely comfortable with it sent your mind into a leveled frenzy.

You were beginning to feel odd…

Longing to hear Chan’s keys jingle from down the hall, and his footsteps echoing closer to the locked door of your room, rather than fearing the sounds.

You looked forward to seeing him after hours of being kept alone in a room with only a stack of books to read, a pad of paper and pen, and a strange amount of various stuffed animals to keep you company. Once or twice, you caught yourself beginning to smile when you saw him slip into your room after unlocking it. He greeted you every time, inviting you out of the room for two hours until dinner -which promptly occurred at 10 PM every night.

A twisted sense of security wrestled itself into your psyche. Your heart switched between racing in fear and slowing from unconscious infatuation. Your breaths came easier, and your body relaxed a tad more in his presence.

It was…

Alarming.

So much so that the moment Chan stopped mid-step on his way out of your room for the night before to ask you a question, your sensible train of thought nearly reignited.

Unfortunately, that trickle of sense fizzled back into a fog of conscious paralysis, hearing his voice envelop the room.

“Anything in particular you want tomorrow?”

You swallow hard, slipping underneath the heavy duvet before answering him quietly.

“What..? What do you mean?..”

That is a fair question.

Chan didn't blame you for asking it and was unsure whether to proceed with his offer.

But the pure, unguarded curiosity in your eyes and expression made him continue. “Is there anything special you’d like to have?..” he clarified.

You still said nothing.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before showing a tender smile as if he’d become embarrassed of having to explain his sudden thoughtfulness.

“Think of it like a gift from me to you, princess. Something special since you’ve been so …”

He paused, eyes lowering from your face for a moment, momentarily distant as they settled on the cover pulled over your knees and to your chest.

The straps of the cream-colored chiffon night dress he’d picked out for you that night lowered from your shoulder as you shifted, waiting to hear the rest of his reasoning, and Chan reluctantly drew his gaze back up to your face.

“Good for me…” he clarified under a heavy breath, glad the door partially hid the hardening in his crotch from your wandering eyes.

“I can have..anything?” You pried for options, having narrowed the most apparent forms of escape or attempt at communication with the outside world out of the realm of possibilities.

Chan was an intelligent man.

A highly intuitive one at that.

A man who paid attention to the most minor details. Obvious or not.

Getting anything past him felt like running into a cement wall and hoping it’d eventually vanish and let you pass.

It wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

When you caught his slow nod of approval at your question, you decided that asking a small, harmless question would be a safe decision.

“I want something from the cafe….please…the one I used to. “

“Yeah, no. I remember which one it is, sweetheart….” Chan cut into your response, mind wandering to dangerous places, watching you sink further into the corners and set your doe eyes on him as you did.

It’s sickened him to some degree how hot his blood ran seeing you vulnerable and comfortable all at once in his presence.

There wasn’t a chance in the world he’d be able to keep his hands off you for another week if you kept affecting him this way. Chan purposefully attempted to avoid the feeling, but there was only so much he could do before everything you did affected him.

Called to him…

Begged for him…

God, he wanted to hear you beg for him…

Scream for him…

Chan sucked in a quick breath, head leaning on the doorframe as he shut his eyes and mumbled back to you, “I’ll bring you something from there in the morning. Night, princess..”

And then he was gone again.

You slept a little easier last night, hoping his gesture of intentional goodwill was a sign he was starting to regret his actions. Still, now that hope died in your chest, seeing the pure content on his face as he observed you tentatively reaching for the pastry and latte he'd brought back just for you.

Chan was never going to feel guilty.

Not when everything was perfect between you, especially for him.

The pastry melted on your tongue, warm and sweet but barely easing the weight in your chest, sensing Chan’s gaze on you. Every bite you took was less and less soothing, hardly washed down any more accessible with the few sips of cold caffeine you took between each one, but you refused to give him any more signs of your distress.

If you did, it always seemed to go straight to his head.

Chan fed off of it.

You’d learned that much about him in less than a week.

Despite his constant attempts at heartfelt kindness, your fear of him was his fix.

What a sick bastard…

You swallowed the last bite of the pastry as the thought crossed your mind, crumpling up the parchment it was wrapped in before dropping it into the bag but leaving the half-full cup alone.

“Thank you,” you forced a smile, hints of genuine gratitude coaxing the pleasant expression onto your face, but it was short-lived as Chan shook his head. “Finish all of it,” he instructed, nudging the cup closer to you without glancing at it. “Don’t waste what I give you…”

You stiffen in your seat, “I’m fine. I've had enough, really-“

Your lips immediately pressed shut when he stood, closing in on you until your head lulled back to keep him in your sight. Chan stared down at you, right hand raised to brush across your cheek, and the left picking the latte up from the counter. Every nerve you had spanned to life, chills rising on your skin as he invaded your space and fixed you in place with a void glare.

Chan exhaled slowly, reducing the anger he felt when you refused his demand and replacing it with a controlled ease. “I took time out of my day to get you something special, and I expect you to appreciate it. Open up…” his hand falls to cup your chin, grip tight and promising. You swallow hard, eyes dilating with anxiety as he applies more pressure, progressing until you utter a whine of pain and let your mouth fall slack. “Atta girl…” Chan praises under his breath, caging you in the seat and easing the drink to your parted lips.

Your stomach drops, feeling helpless as he forces you to gulp down the remaining half of the cold caffeinated drink. Your legs twitch and shift between his, nails clawing at the sheer stockings covering your thighs underneath the sweater you wore, and your breaths struggle to remain constant as the liquid pours down your throat and from the corner of your lips.

His hold on your jaw is painful but not as tortuous as the thoughts racing through your mind as you peer up at him through teary eyes.

It hurts, but it feels so…

Why won’t he stop…? Do I want him to…stop?…

You choked as the last drops of the latte drizzled onto your tongue, gasping for air quietly as he released your jaw and tapped your cheek gently. A phantom of pain blooms on your skin, disappearing seconds after the tender slap occurs but snapping you back to reality to hear him speak.

“I need you wide awake for me today. Can’t have you looking too tired when Bin comes over for a visit.”

You stare at him, half dizzy and confused, hearing him mention another’s name.

He hadn’t mentioned his friends, family, or acquaintances before…

Though your throat still burned and your eyes had yet to un-blur completely, you asked, “W-who’s Bin?”…”

Chan smiled, gently kissing your nose since you weren’t in any shape to reel away from him like you had before. Your face warmed from the gesture, your heart fluttering a bit as the distinct feeling of his lips brushing your skin was mildly delightful.

“He's a good friend of mine. Someone I work with often, too. I think you’ll like him a lot.”

Your lips twitched into a timid smile, a mix of relief and desire hanging over your head. “I…I can't wait to meet him. " You shifted around, swiping the back of your right hand across your damp lips to wipe away the coffee left on them and swiftly cover the vague happiness that begged to show itself.

Maybe this ‘Bin’ could be your way out of all of this - a saving grace from the hell you were beginning to settle into.

“Good. Now, get cleaned up. He’ll be here soon.” Chan lifts you from the chair, steadying your drowsy weight against him for a moment before you give him a solemn nod and carefully step past him. An array of ideas starts to cloud your head, gathering traction and precedence over any other thought you have, but they're shattered to pieces when Chan calls out to you from the kitchen.

“Y/n..”

You freeze, hand pressed to the corner of the hallway for support as you peer at him over your shoulder.” Yes?...” you breathe out, uneased by the pleasant smile he flashes you before leaning against the center island. " Don't try anything cute when he's here. Asking for his help won't change a thing.”

“I won’t…”

God fucking damn it-

The sound of another’s voice from down the hall catches your attention, melting into laughter and warm words toward your captor a moment later.

‘Bin’ must be here…

You sniffle at the realization, dabbing the damp white cloth over your mouth several times before rinsing and wringing it out into the bathroom sink. Droplets of caramel coffee swirled down the drain, disappearing like your will to escape began to. Chan’s warning to you was a simple threat—a nicely put one but still a promise of consequences to your preemptive attempts for escape.

A lump settled in your throat as you stared in the mirror above the sink, silently trying to convince your reflection that everything was fine.

That you’d find a way out of this soon.

You wanted to believe the determination written across your features would remain, but it consciously vanished when you quietly stepped out of the bathroom and down the dim hallway. You came to a stop at the hall's edge, peeking from behind it to glimpse at the man Chan seemed to be enjoying a conversation with.

He had black hair, and he was around Chan’s height, too, but a bit more muscled than him. And he sounded pleasant, but by now, you’d learned that assuming a stranger's length of kindness by their words was never a good idea.

With pursed lips and a soft gulp, you shifted to hide behind the corner again, unnerved by the prospect of meeting anyone who took to Chan’s company and afraid of having to endure meeting them yourself without the chance to beg for their help to get away from him.

“Shff..*

Your stockings brush along the floor, catching Chan’s attention and bringing his conversation with Changbin to a sudden halt. He glanced at the corner you hid behind, watching Changbin do the same before saying anything. “Baby, come here. Could you introduce yourself to my friend? Don’t be shy..”

You swallow a groan, peeking around the corner again as if he hadn’t caught your presence already, “H-Hi…” you greet the man sitting across from him in the living room.

Chan shakes his head, eyeing you intently. “Don’t be rude, princess. Come out here and meet him.” Changbin laughs, smiling warmly as he shifts in his seat to see your hidden form better. “I swear I don’t bite:” he joked.

Oh…

He seems harmless, but still...

Your heart jumps with a sense of joy you thought had been snuffed out weeks ago. Warmth floods your cheeks, and seeing him stretch out a hand for you to shake is an added sign of goodwill from him.

“Okay…” you mumble, slipping from the hallway to tentatively shake his hand before repeating your greeting upfront. “Hi.”

Changbin chuckled, his brows raising a bit. “I’m Changbin, and you are? " He seemed genuinely intrigued, glancing between you and Chan before the latter cleared his throat.

“Bin, this is Y/n, the girl I told you about…”

“Oh,” Changbin grinned, holding your hand longer than needed as he stared up at you. “She is cute. No wonder you talk about her so much. " He met your lowered eyes, offering a warm smile you barely returned before retracting his hand from yours. “Wait, how long did you say you’ve been together?”

Chan sighed, shrugging at the question despite knowing its exact answer.

Three weeks, sixteen hours, and forty-three minutes is how long you’d been trapped in his sick fantasy.

He’d been counting every second, and now you were, too.

“Six months next week, Bin.”

“And you've already moved in with him? Must be love at first sight…” Changbin looked between you both, ignoring your aversion to looking at Chan directly or oblivious to the tension between you two.

You didn't answer him, lips pressed shut, and your hands nervously twiddling behind your back. Chan answered for you, rising from his spot on the couch to pat Changbin’s stout shoulder as he came to stand by your side. “Must be. Right, sweetheart?” The skin of your lower back gathers goosebumps, feeling his hand firmly plant itself there, thumb tracing the trial of your spine as he eases you closer to him. Your tongue falls flat in your mouth, your body weak and tense all at once from the weight of his touch. Afraid to use your voice without letting out an unseemly sound, you give a gentle no, eyes fluttering between Changbin and Chan, who smile at your silent agreement.

“Are you always this quiet around strangers?” Changbin chuckles, and you embarrassingly shake your head, pressing against Chan’s side as he speaks for you. “Or maybe you're just really loud,” he retorts, inwardly brimming with pride, feeling your body shift towards his for comfort.

Finally.

You were learning to trust him.

To depend on him.

Changbin rolls his eyes, his mouth ticking into an unaffected smirk. “I'm the right amount loud. Otherwise, your tracks would only get so far.” Chan’s body goes rigid at the teasing jab, startling you when his grip on your lower back shifts to your hip to knead the soft skin. You whine quietly as his fingertips bare down on the muscle. The hold grounds him but unnerved you.

He was upset.

That much you could tell, but Chan didn't let anger cloud his features, shrugging off Changbin’s usual innocent jabs at him, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Bin. “

Said man huffs, staring at Chan for a few seconds before returning to you. “Want to join us for a little bit? I know Chan says you like to spend your free time alone doing your own thing, but since you're here-”

“I’d love to!” Your mouth moves before your mind computes a careful response, growing into a sheepish smile as Changbin laughs at your impulsive reaction. Conversely, Chan seems stiffer by the second, not angered but vaguely displeased.

You ignored it, forcing your nerves to settle despite feeling the air around him thicken with masked tension. “So, what were two talking about earlier? From what I heard, it sounded like a fun conversation.” You smile at Changbin, hoping he'll see the desperation hidden in your eyes as you slip away from Chan and hurry to sit beside him on the sofa.

You're too close to him.

He's too close to you.

That's your first strike, and you don't even realize it.

Chan makes no move to point out your blatant mistake, either. His expression slips into a hardened glare as the two of you converse without him. His eyes burn into the side of your head, fixated on every fluctuating reaction you have to Changbin.

The spark of yearning that returns to your pretty eyes as they focus on him.

The gentle nods you give while he speaks.

How you are a bit closer to him when an intriguing topic extends itself.

Every little thing begins to irritate Chan.

You'd been huddled close to him only a minute ago like a trapped mouse, scared of a stranger and seeking his protection...

And now, here you are, eating up anything and everything his Changbin did or said.

Ungrateful.

Disrespectful.

A little liar is what you were.

Chan couldn't look past it, even as the hours ticked by. He joined in the pleasant conversations that dwindled into laughter over several shared take-out dishes, but he refused to give you the benefit of the doubt any longer. Barely tempering his envy of the attention and comfort you shared with Changbin when he'd done everything for you to earn such things for himself.

So ungrateful.

So fucking needy for another man's attention…

Chan counted down the seconds until Changbin’s phone rang half past one in the morning, vibrating on the glass coffee table you sat in front of with him.

“Hold on. Let me get this real quick,” Changbin said, snatching his phone from the table. He offered you a kind and apologetic smile to make up for shortening your moving conversation. “It's okay,” you mouthed, hands raised to wave off his unneeded reasoning as you watched him stand up to take the call in the hallway. Changbin ruffled his free hand through your hair, giving a silent ‘thank you’ on his way out of the room, flashing Chan a cheeky grin as he disappeared around the corner.

You stared at the empty spot next to you, still reeling through ideas of how to gain Changhins help or at least convince him to let you use his phone without Chan knowing…

But the blonde hadn't left you alone or taken his eyes off you and Changbin for a second the entire time he was there. If anything, Chan watched you painfully closer, looming like a shadow in every interaction and a little too good at insulating you had a healthy, willing, and established relationship with him.

Even if that was the furthest thing from the truth.

Nonetheless, Changbin hadn't shown any signs of recognizing the reality of your unwanted arrangement. You had no chance to subtly hint at it to him, aware of Chan’s vigilance even when he wasn't directly involved in the friendly exchanges.

You'd more than once caught him staring you down, arms folded over his chest, and his jaw set into a tight angle. A shiver ran up your spine every time you caught the look in his eyes.

How cold those brown irises turned, filling with deepening jealousy.

If you hadn't felt trapped and endangered before…

You felt that way now.

Your gaze refused to shift from the carport you sat on, hands twiddling in your lap as your heart raced a little faster second by second.

“You think I'm stupid, baby girl?”

You immediately shake your head ‘no’ as he speaks under the distant sound of Changbin’s ongoing phone call.

Chan scoffs, his head ticking once, and bites back with a wry smile. “Hm. So, she's a fucking liar too…”

It's a statement—an observation he's made, and you cannot deny it.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, lodged there as you shake your head again and finally set your eyes on his.

“Chan, please...I’m not-“

“Shut up.”

Silence.

The moment his command hits your burning ears, a cold, heavy, and suffocating silence blankets the room. He lets it settle, holding your doe-eyed stare with a sharp glare. “Come here.”

Your hands freeze, tears welling in your eyes, but you blink them away.

Crying never works on Chan.

Never.

Your head lowers as you shift onto your knees and grip the coffee table's edge to stand up, a tremble catching your fingers as the cold glass amplifies the heat of anxiety taking over you.

“No,” Chan seethes out, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees, head resting against his left hand as the right beckons you toward him, familiar veins contracting through them from the subtle gestures he makes.“Crawl.”

You swallow like he's shoved a lead pill down your throat by voicing the command, frozen in thinly veiled hesitancy as he waits for you to follow it.

The last remnants of pride and brimming hope melt away from you, drained out of your body as it shifts back from the edge of the table and onto the floor again. Chan watches you lower down to be on your hands and knees, your soft cheeks dampening with a few stray tears as you crawl towards him with timid caution in every move you make. The heat you feel rises to your face, painting it a solemn red when you settle between his legs. Chan plants his feet, making room for you and quickly locking you in his range.

“Turn around,” he whispers, left index finger making a small circle to emphasize the instruction. Slowly, you shift to face away from him, pleading with an invisible force to ease your panic, unable to see what he will do and anticipate when he’ll do so.

Chan hadn’t raised a hand to you. Not once.

He could be rough, drag, and move you with pointed strength when he felt you needed a firmer guide, but hitting you?

Never.

Him showing any sign of brute physicality towards you?

Never.

You’d begun to realize Chan didn’t need to exert force, always expressing it in his words, expressions, and acts of service rather than using violence.

So, your fear -that swirling and dizzying uncertainty you’d felt for weeks- stemmed from a much deeper and deranged concept your mind had conjured up.

You weren’t afraid of Chan.

No…

You were terrified of just how far and how many demented things you’d be willing to let him do to you…

Even if he’d cornered you into them.

Forced you.

You wanted him to do that on a certain level of consciousness. To give up fighting his insistence on loving you his way and bask in it for as long as he’d let you.

You’d begun dreaming about it day and night. Constantly fantasizing about him when you should hate him with every breath you take.

God, you wanted to hate him, claw at him, make him feel the pain you felt sitting alone in the room he kept you locked away in.

But the moment Chan’s breath spanned the nape of your neck, warm and slow as he breathed you in from behind, your head was empty of malicious intent towards him. All you could focus on was him: the smell of his cologne, the heat from his body, and the quiet hum of his satisfaction that seeped straight through your reddened ears down to the space between your legs.

His voice alone made you ache in a way you refused to acknowledge.

You pressed your thighs together, praying the steady pulse in your core would vanish if you tried hard enough to hide it.

You should’ve known better than to hope for any small triumph of self-control being near Chan because the second he saw you tense up and circle your hips, he tugged you back into him.

His left hand grasps the tousled hair at the back of your head, pulling and twisting, while the right grips your throat. A soft gasp of pain and moderate shock left your lips as he reared your head backward with a rough force on your hair, muffling the surprised sighs you let out by pressing the pads of his fingers directly against the nerves of your neck. Chan left you no choice but to inhale sharply through your nose, eyes trained on the twists and turns of your expression while his own remained inches wholly and away stoic.

You clawed at his right hand on intuition, longing for the burning need for air to settle into your lungs. Helpless abs, afraid of your excitement, you struggled against his hold on you, eyes shut tight when he choked you harder and grazed his nose along your cheek until he reached your ear. His lips pressed into a smile, lingering over the sensitive skin as he spoke to you. “I don’t want to hurt you…but,” he exhales, something kin to a groan falling from his mouth before he continues, “…I can’t keep letting you get away with this, baby girl.”

You shudder, stifling a frustrated whimper as Chan places a chaste kiss on the tip of your ear, nuzzling your head with his own as his proper slips under your ankle and forces it apart from your left one—immediate defiance courses through you being put into a new, compromising position.

Held tight against him, barely able to breathe, and legs now spread for him to see what you’d been trying to hide for nearly two weeks.

Clear evidence of how badly you wanted him.

How far you’d fallen into craving him.

Your heart stopped dead in its tracks as cool air enveloped the forming wet patch on your sheer rose pink underwear, barely hidden under the hem of your skirt. Chan whistled lowly at the sight, staring down at the evident mess you were making of yourself.

“Get a look at that, Princess…” he taunted you in a daze, watching your hips twist and buck as you tried to close your legs again and break away from him, but Chan held you steady the more you fought him.

The tears you fought so hard to hold back began to slip past your flutter lashes, dampening your burning cheeks and drizzling down to coat the veiny hand, practically suffocating you. “No…stop…I-it’s not…“ you stumbled to find an excuse, something to say that’d convince him and yourself that your arousal wasn’t natural.

But it was.

And it was thriving by the minute.

Chan bit into his lower lip, glancing over at the corner Changbin had yet to come walking around.

You could faintly hear the other man still speaking to whoever had called him but instantly pushed his princes to the back of your mind, hearing Chan’s voice melt through the air around you. “What am I going to do with you, pretty girl?” He muses, formulating answers to his question while you shiver at its implications. “You’ve been so good, too..” his praise warms your core, numbing your mind as he builds upon it.

“Doing whatever I tell you…” Chan smiles, gaze trained between the hallway entry and your vulnerable position. “Treating yourself better..”

You whine at that, feeling picked apart and full of yourself all at once by him.

“Being the good girl I knew you could be for me,” Chan mutters, his voice warm as new honey and his hand slowly shifting downward in your hair.

Past the nape of your neck, over your shoulder, down to your chest. You tense under his traveling touch, unconsciously arching up against the palm of his heavy hand as it gently kneads your left breast before attending to the right in the same manner.

Your head leers into his shoulder relaxed against the tight muscle he keeps hidden by a black shirt. A soft moan escaped your lips as they parted to attempt to catch a new breath, muffled by the crook of his neck as you inched closer to him the longer he shamelessly groped your chest.

Chan tongued his cheek, feeling your breathy moans fan over his skin, sending rivers of heat down his back, urging him to slip his hand under the hem of the lacey white camisole you wore. “I was so proud of you, baby girl…” he chuckled, eyes cutting towards the hall again before he pushed the half excuse for a shirt up above your perked breasts. You flinched, startled by his intent to fully expose you when his friend was just down the hall, but Chan wasn’t the slightest remorseful or cautious as he palmed your chest. He took his time, thumb rolling over around each of your nipples, slipping to knead your stomach when you arched for more.

“So…so proud,” he mumbles, studying the quick rise and fall of your chest as you try to breathe normally, hands moving to grip your forearm and wrist for a sense of support as he tortures your resolve. “Chan…Chan…please… sorry…I..” you give up speaking, too all over the place mentally to get a coherent sentence out, and ready to accept your fate in any way he gave it to you.

“But I guess even the best of girls need a little reminder, yeah?” Chan peers into your eyes, smiling softly and vaguely playful, but his tone is the furthest thing from it. You shake your head, brows knitting together in desperation. “No!” Chan, please…please, I promise…I’ll be good… I-I promise..”

Your pleading sinks into the room in hushed whispers, scarcely heard by anyone but him, and you watch his expression soften hearing it.

Was that…

Pity…?

Guilt?..

You couldn’t quite place the look on his face as he stared at you, but seconds later, it vanished, replaced with a smile you knew meant nothing good for you.

“I wish I could believe you, baby. I do, but you’ve earned exactly what’s coming to you.”

Chan exhales slowly, letting the hand he has splayed across your stomach inch further down to firmly cup your covered cunt and press his palm against the patch of cum spreading in the thin fabric covering it. You gasped loudly at the contact, hoping Changbin didn’t hear the lewd sound as it dwindled into a low whine.

Chan soaks in your visceral reaction to being touched indirectly, pressing his middle and ring finger into your underwear until he can feel the warmth of your cunt cover then and leak with pent-up arousal. You bit back a strangled scream at the intrusion, reveling in it and greedily rolling your hips forward against his hand for more. The tips of your toes curled through the thigh-high socks you wore because he seemed to like seeing you in them.

Your legs fell further apart, trembling with pleasure as he pumped his thick fingers into your fluttering cunt, soaking them and your ultimately useless panties in cum, and only stopping when the sound of Changbin’s footsteps came from down the hall.

Chan huffed, openly disappointed by the oncoming disruption but content with the state he’d put you in.

“The minute he leaves, you’re mine.” He groans into your ear, releasing you from his hold and readjusting your skirt and shirt before he helps you sit up straight. You blush, rightfully speechless, while he runs a hand through your hair to fix it just as Changbin rounds the corner.

a/n: I have such an intense migraine and it’s killing meeee

other links: n/a yet…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Sluttiest thing this man has ever done is that dammed teaser skit with that obnoxious ass stare and deep voice combo. He looked way too fine with that mask on and he knew it!!! 🖤 credits to creator!

[daisykihannie]

𝙳𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 | 𝙱.𝙲

Pairing: Sub!Chan x Amab!Reader

Warnings: sensory deprivation, smut, Nsfw, established relationship, unprotected sex, anal sex, spanking, Chan cries just a little, begging, rough and soft??, manhandling, slight bondage, i love when men whimper, etc.

A/N: i was honestly really trying to keep this shorter and mostly just the smut but i’ve now learned that i can’t help but write my fics in detail:/

Today was extremely exhausting and Chan honestly just wanted to have his brain clock out and bed rot for the next 8-10 business days but realistically, that’s not an option. Luckily he had enough mental strength to send you a message to let you know the state he was in. You and Chan have been boyfriends for 4 years now, you both knew each other better than you knew yourselves. That being said, you knew exactly what your boyfriend needed to shut his brain up.

“I’m home.” Chan groaned out, exhaustion heavy in his voice. He noticed the dim lighting in the living room, slipping out of his Vans and walking toward the couch where you were seated with just the lamp next to the sofa on. Chan wasted no time in straddling your lap as he took his seat on your thighs and wrapped himself around your rigid form like a koala. “Welcome home my love~” you purred out and began to drag your fingernails across his scalp in a soothing manner similar to the way you’d scratch a cat on the head.

Chan nuzzled his nose against your throat, breathing in the smell of your cologne and humming in satisfaction. “Have i ever told you how incredible you smell?” chan mumbled, refusing to remove his nose from your neck. “hmmmm i don’t think you have baby.” you teased, knowing he tells you multiple times a day just how much he loves how you smell. “mmm well, you smell so fucking sexy, it’s insane.” chan retorted softly, pushing his nose further into the skin of your neck.

You two stayed there in a comfortable silence for a little while longer before you used your free hand that wasn’t scratching Chan’s scalp to dig into your little chest of secrets next to the couch to fish out the special sound proof headphones you used specifically for times like this. They made it very difficult to hear anything, even without any music playing, and genuinely impossible to hear with music playing. You removed your hand from Chan's black locks, earning a whine of protest from the man still clinging to you like his life depended on it. “Shhhh don’t get all bratty on me just yet baby.” you sighed as you slipped the white headset to rest comfortably on his head.

At the realization of the head set and the muffled and very very faint noises that could make it through, he pulled away from your neck and looked at you with giant puppy dog eyes, hoping his suspicions are right about what you’re about to do. You gave him a soft, fond smile and showed him the blind fold you had also pulled out. If Chan was a dog, his tail would be wagging at 100 miles a minute right now.

It wasn’t very often that Chan was able to fully let go like this. He was someone who was too focused on his partners pleasure to really allow himself to give over his control and submit to you fully like he did with sensory deprivation. Often times he’d end up in his head too much and over think everything if he wasn’t as exhausted as he was right now. He needed permission to allow his brain to log out and know he’d be completely and utterly cared for and right now, you were giving him that permission and he was beyond grateful.

You slipped the blindfold over your boyfriend’s eyes, the strap wrapping around the headphones to further keep them in place on his head. You decided it’d be best to go ahead and turn on the playlist for times like this before the next part of the full sensory deprivation experience. Once the music started, Chan started to bob his head gently and rock slightly to the music, allowing himself to begin to let go and drown in what senses he still had.

The next step was removing his ability to touch, two of his five sense already removed from him. You slipped the leather gloves over each of his hands and placed each gloved hand onto his lap, one hand on each thigh. You noticed that his rocking movements had now been focused to his hips as he softly began to grind his half-hard cock against your still flaccid one. A soft groan falling from your lips as you tried to focus back on the task at hand and not how the blood rushed straight to your cock at the feeling of your boyfriend's arousal.

Now that Chan’s hands were gloved, you took out the leather and suede wrist cuffs and began to buckle the material to his left wrist first. Insuring that the cuff was snug enough to almost completely restrict his movements but not so tight that they’d become painful. Once the left wrist was perfect, you moved his arms behind his back, resting his right wrist above the left and pulling the man on your lap forward so his muscular chest was resting against your own, bracing his body weight against you fully now that he couldn’t use his hands to keep himself up.

You placed your chin over his shoulder to peer down the expanse of his back, the muscles rippling and flexing as he tried to continue rolling his hips but the new position didn’t allow much movement. Now that both arms were securely fastened behind his back, you landed a sharp smack to the plush of his ass, a yelp falling from the other male’s lips in response and you could feel Chan’s cock twitch against your stomach where he was braced against you.

You landed a second sharp smack to the same cheek, a whimper leaving your boyfriend’s lips now as he chased the feeling for a moment, the pain and excitement coursing through his veins like a drug. He didn’t know what you were doing and wouldn’t know what was going to happen to him and the thought of being good for you, allowing you to take him apart by every individual thread and fiber of his being just to rebuild him all over again, had his brain feeling like cotton candy as Apartment by BOBI ANDONOV pounded in his ears.

Next thing Chan felt was you sitting him back up, having to flex his abs and his thighs to hold himself up now that his balance was slightly off kilter with his hands behind his back. Then, your index and middle finger were pressed to his lower lip, tugging down on the plump, pink, tissue and showing his teeth slightly. Saliva began to pool from his mouth and wet your fingers before he let his jaw go slack, opening his mouth to you like the good boy he is.

You took this opportunity to drag your fingers along his pearly white teeth for a moment, watching as they glistened beautifully under the dim light of the lamp as you dragged his saliva along the smooth surfaces. You added more pressure to your finger tips as you dragged them across the slick surface of his gums, taking your time to feed Chan’s slight oral fixation before your next step. You languidly dragged your fingers across the wet pink muscle that was Chan’s tongue, letting him lazily lap at your digits, coating them thoroughly in his spit.

When you removed your fingers from the wet cavern, Chan let out a disgruntled whine, the empty feeling in his mouth almost had him crying. It just wasn’t enough, he needed more, so so much more from you. He needed you to touch him, use him, take over his senses in every sense of the word. He needed you to melt him down into a puddle and fuck him dumb. You were going to use the gag but he always sounds too pretty in the rare times he allows himself to fully submit to you that you couldn’t do that to yourself.

Chan was now completely deprived of most of his senses, smell being the only one he’s left with. You always allowed him to have his sense of smell considering how much he adored the way you smelled, losing the other senses only made your scent that much more overwhelming and satisfying to your boyfriend. Now that your hands had left Chan’s body, soft whines and whimpers left his lips as he wiggled on your thighs, quickly becoming desperate.

While Chan was struggling on your lap, you took the chance to pull the waistband of your sweats down. Your cock sprang free and recoiling off your stomach and leaving a small wet patch on the black fabric of your muscle tee from the beads of precum that were leaking from the reddening tip.

Seeing your muscular, domineering, boyfriend become a whining and whimpering mess for you and only you was definitely doing things to you. The way no one would be able to imagine THE Bang Chan submitting like this, becoming nothing but a submissive puddle of need for no one but you had your head spinning every time you made him like this.

After tucking the waistband underneath your balls, your hands gripped Chan’s defined hip bones and leaned forward, moving his body off your lap and allowing him to get his feet underneath himself and securely on the floor. Now that the both of you were standing, you made quick work of removing his jeans and underwear. You wanted his shirt off too but the fact that his hands were secure behind his back would make the removal impossible.

Grabbing the collar of his black Adidas compression shirt in both hands, you used a considerable amount of strength to rip the fabric apart, tearing the material to shreds until all that was left was the sleeves clinging to his shoulders. The action had Chan letting out a whiny moan, knees threatening to buckle at just how arousing it felt to have his shirt physically ripped off his body.

Now that Chan was sufficiently naked, you spun his body around and pressed your aching cock between his ass cheeks, rocking your hips languidly to drag your length through the flesh, surprised to feel something cold buried there. It had to be a plug, apparently he already prepped for you like the good boy he is. He leaned his head back against you and pushed his ass back to meet your movements with a moan. “P-please… n-need my baby… need you i-inside me” he whimpered, luckily he learned how to control his volume now so he wasn’t screaming but truly whimpering in a low and sultry tone.

You pulled away from your boyfriend, earning a disapproving whine and a slight stomp of his foot when your body heat left him. He was quickly getting more and more desperate as time dragged on, showing just how mentally gone he really was. Chan’s body felt fuzzy, like cotton candy was threaded through his muscles and tendons. The blood in his veins melting the cotton candy into a syrupy goop in his body. Everywhere you touched him felt like fireworks erupted across his skin and every touch was just as unexpected as the last and his brain was melting into the beats that thrummed through the speakers of the headphones as he struggled to keep up.

You dragged just your finger tips in feather light touches across the muscles of his thighs, allowing Chan temporary sensation before you ripped it away again. Dragging your finger tips from his chin, down his throat, and scratching a soft line from his collar bones down to the middle of his sternum. His skin was pale enough that the skin immediately lit up in a pink hue before you were pulling away from him again.

You continued to touch random parts of his body, with no pattern at all so he couldn’t predict your next move. You alternated the pressure of your finger tips from heavy and bruising touches to light and barely there touches. You’d point your tongue to lick his skin occasionally or drag your teeth across his flesh, still keeping every touch unpredictable. “S-stop teasing… please… m-more i-i need more p-please” chan quickly became a stuttering mess from the assault of your sporadic touches.

With a smirk, you watched Chan and admired the way he shuddered as you blew a steady stream of air across the back of his neck, then across his nipples. You watched them pebble up and a long, needy whine left Chan’s lips again. “Please please please… need to be filled please… fuck baby- i can’t take anymore…” he was getting louder now, frustration evident in his voice. You could see tears slip from under the blindfold, painting his cheeks with clear streaks. He was always so pretty when he cried.

You placed a chaste kiss to either cheek, covering the tear tracks as you made your way to be behind him again. With his back facing you and the couch behind you, you took ahold of his hips, digging your nails into the soft skin and leaving crescent shaped marks along the bones on either side. You pulled him into your lap as you sat on the couch, your still leaking cock pressed against his ass and lower back. He yelped at the sudden feeling of falling, feeling safe in your arms again once he was settled in your lap.

“need you so bad Jagi… please please… give it to me? i-i’ve been a good boy” Chan begged, if you hadn’t tormented him enough you’d definitely drag this out a bit more. You couldn’t help it, he just sounded too pretty begging for you but the submissive moans he lets out in this head space are so much sweeter.

Taking out the bottle of lube, you poured a generous amount on your length and used your fist to coat yourself generously. Even though Chan currently had a plug keeping him stretched for you, you still didn’t want to risk hurting him too bad. Removing your hand from yourself, you pushed your index and middle finger against the metal end of the plug and pushing it in just a little further. Chan arched his back and gasped at the pressure as you rocked the plug in and out of him just barely, only enough to feel the change in pressure.

Chan was panting on your lap now as you held his wrists in your free hand and pushed him forward. You were the only thing keeping him from plunging face first into the floorboard as you began to fuck his needy hole with the plug, stretching him repeatedly over the thickest part of the plug before removing it with a pop. He was crying again, needy and desperate as his hole fluttered around nothing and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

Throwing the plug to the side, the metal clattering across the floor loudly as you lined the tip up with his hole again and used your hold on his hands to slam his hips back against yourself so you could immediately bottom out inside of him. A guttural groan leaving your lips at the feeling of his warm walls wrapping around you again. “Fuck! oh my fucking god! yes yes yes yes more please!” Chan was almost screaming as he tried to fuck himself back on your cock but not having any leverage to move himself.

He felt way too good to take your time, both hands finding his hips and holding him up slightly with both his feet planted firmly against the cushions of the couch on either side of you and allowing himself to rest his upper back on one of your shoulders. You immediately began to thrust up into his heat at a brutal pace. The sounds of his screaming and skin slapping together every time your balls slapped against his own mixing into the air of the apartment.

You loved how loud Chan got when he didn’t have a chance to be self conscious about it with the headphones downing out every single sound. You abused his prostate, slamming into the bundle of nerves everytime you buried yourself inside him, just to drag across it as you pulled out. It really didn’t take long for Chan to be drooling and babbling as you fucked him dumb on your cock. “cl-close… please please please let me cum- c-can i cum p-please? fuck please!” Chan begged as his cock twitched painfully against his abs.

You moved one arm from his hip to wrap around his torso to keep him balanced on your shoulder and never slowing down your thrusts. Using your now free hand, you wrapped it around his throbbing cock as he leaked all over your hand. “yes yes yes yes fuck please g-gonna cum-“ Chan’s words began slurring together as you brought him to his high, your hand and his abs getting covered in his warm white ropes of release.

The way he clenched around you when he came had you hissing and groaning as you buried yourself to the hilt again, filling him up with your own release and painting his walls white. You rocked your hips through your climax before Letting Chan slump against you again. You two stayed like that for a moment just panting and catching your breath before you began removing the cuffs, then the blind fold, then the headphones. Chan was still floating through his post-nut bliss, this being the only time you’d be able to smoothly return his senses and not completely overwhelm him.

Chan’s eyes fluttered open again, fully cleaned and both of you wearing clean boxers and wrapped in the comfort of your bed. Chan was curled into your side with his head on your chest. The sound of your heartbeat and the gentle drag of your nails along his scalp being the things to bring him back to earth. The sound of you lazily singing to him allowing the transition to be as smooth as possible.

Noticing Chan stirring in your hold, you placed a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Welcome back my love~” you cooed. “Hi Jagi, thank you for taking care of me” Chan hummed in response. Bliss, love, safety. Those are the things you could make Chan feel so easily and only you were capable of it. Chan was so completely whipped and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[starrdevereauxx]

I said last time would be the last time.

Brandon broke up with me 6 months ago. I’ve been a wreck for weeks on end. I promised myself to get over it, but it’s been such a hard thing to process. We would always fight, make up, make love and act like nothing ever happened. He was gone this time. This was the longest we ever been apart.

I try to find things to do to pass the time, but nothing ever seems to take my mind off him. I still smell him, breathe him, and feel him through my body. Our mutual friends always give messages about him, but I’ve been ignoring them lately. My heart can’t take listening to his name, let alone hearing of any accomplishments.

I need to run my errands today, but like everyday I become sad running them alone. We did everything together, after 6 years I can’t believe that we don’t do this anymore.

Heading to the grocery store I become sad with my list of groceries for one instead of two. I hop in my car and turn on “our” playlist. Hoping I can borrow a feeling from any song that plays. Another slow song begins to play and I’m seeing myself in the mirror. Envisioning him touching me, wishing my hands were his. Rubbing the side of my face, choking me ever so lightly. I literally just felt my pussy drip at this light.

“Get it together Dev” I say trying to convince myself that I’m over him. Knowing damn well I’m not. I can feel him inside my pussy when I think about him. The feeling intensifies with every breath I take.

I gather myself to go inside of the store, with my lonely list of single items. Looking at the list I just remember every single meal I ever made for him. Pouring my heart into each meal, now I can only make food for myself. I sob gathering myself for this lonely trip.

I walk through the store, gathering each item reluctantly. Wishing we were laughing together, talking about what we gonna pretend to watch on Netflix when we got back home. Saying pretend because it we wouldn’t make it pass the opening credits without his chocolate snicker veined dick engorged in my throat. He would be gagging me before we knew the name of the movie.

After looking at my cart, I figured I deserved a treat. I tried to maintain a healthy cart since I’m single, I need to stay in shape. The most physical activity I get is the gym these days, so I had to maintain some resemblance of care in my food intake. But with all the crying that I’ve been doing, today I deserve a treat. I decided to head back to the ice cream isle and help myself to something to lift my spirits.

As I walk to the back of the store with my headphones on, I’m letting Chris Brown sing me to a happy place. I almost begin to get a spring in my step as he’s talking about fucking someone back to sleep.

I make it to the ice cream section and I immediately look for Ben & Jerry’s tasty ass. I see it, straight ahead “Chunky Monkey”. I move my cart out of the way to reach for it. As I get ready to reach for the pint, I feel some thing grab me, startled I think I’m in trouble for climbing inside the refrigerator. Moving my headphones so I can hear, a deep, smoldering voice says

“that’s still your favorite ice cream I see, even though I also remember that your monkey was the only chunky I ever wanted”.

I’m fucking stuck. There’s only one voice I know that sounds like that, and my pussy dripping is letting me know exactly who it is.

“Brandon, oh wow. It’s crazy seeing you here. How are you?” I gulp nervously.

“You look good Dev, time has been good to you. But then again when has it not?” Brandon says as he looks at me like he’s about to take my throat from me right here in this store.

As I prepare to answer him, someone loudly over talks me.

“Babe, BABE.. do you want movie popcorn or kettle corn?” I turn to see a bubbly perky breasted young lady yelling to her significant other about popcorn. I turned back around to see if I see him, just for my heart to sink as I realize that there’s nobody here but me and Brandon here. She’s talking to him. Oh my God, he has a girlfriend.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, I was just trying to get a hold of my fiancé, I didn’t mean to bump you, my apologies” she smiles.

“Kettle Corn baby, thank you” he replies.

She skips off to honor his request. I stand there putting my broken heart back in my chest, not making it obvious that I’m literally breaking apart inside. FIANCÉ!?!? What in the fuck is this? After 6 years together, he never asked me to marry him. I’m even more convinced that it was never going to be me.

“Well congratulations to you and your fiancé, you deserve happiness. Be well Brandon.” I say tearfully as I run off, forgetting my ice cream. At this point I just want to disappear.

I get to the register, pay for my items and hurry to my car.

It was a long walk to my car. I always parked far from stores because I loved to get my steps in. Every step counts to me. So I had enough time to cry myself to the car and be over it by the time I started my car.

I open my trunk and back seat to place my purse down as I organize my groceries in the back, just incase if I needed room for a surprise bullseye store trip. I think after that encounter, I deserve some retail therapy now.

As I near the finish of my organization, I feel someone tap me from behind and say “I thought we discussed you parking way the hell back here. Nobody can see you back here.” Brandon says with what looks like chunky monkey ice cream in his hands.

“What the fuck are you doing back here? Where’s your fiancé? Why are you here? I-“ he stops me mid sentence, placing the ice cream in my hand.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you about Keisha. You didn’t deserve to find out like this” he says looking at me sincerely.

“You don’t owe me anything, we are over. It’s your life. We have both clearly moved on.” I say proudly, pretending that I don’t feel like bending over right now and letting him turn me into a Twinkie.

He stares at me in my eyes with a look I haven’t seen in so long, but I remember well. I break contact and go back to packing my car so I can leave this awkward encounter.

He grabs my arm forcefully, making me drop my car keys in the backseat. Turning me towards him, forcing me to look at him. I begin to tear away in anger because I’m loosing control to my body.

“Get the fuck off me Brandon, what in the hell is your problem. Let me the fuck go.”

I try to break free from his grip. I feel his dick literally growing with anticipation the more I fight.

He stops me and looks me in my eyes. He’s subdued me with his piercing glare. He presses up against me, placing his hands on my body. One softly but firmly on my neck and the other on my left breast, lightly massaging it and grazing the nipple ever so softly. My breathing becomes shallow and scattered. What is he doing? Why is he doing this? Isn’t his fiancé near by or in the car wondering where he is. I’m sure she’s looking for him. In this moment, I don’t think either one of us cares. My pussy is wet and gushing between my panties that I know is drenched at this point.

“I know you feel what I feel for you. I haven’t had a day go by that I haven’t thought about you Dev. We broke up, but never really let go. If you tell me to let you go right now, I’ll stop and walk away forever. You want me to stop?” He says while looking me in my dough eyes. I have no voice to even reply. My red lips are pursed and parted from the small breaths I continue to take. I shake my head no while staring him completely in his eyes.

He leans onto me, kissing me softly, hand still wrapped around my neck. He kisses my lips softly and becomes more aggressive every time he touches his lips to mine. He parts my lips to slide his tongue inside my mouth, I close my mouth to proceed to suck his tongue. Feeling now that his dick is rock hard.

“Show me that you still love me” he says as I’m already unbuckling his jeans. I drop to my knees and open my mouth. Giving him my entire throat to use as he pleases. Forcing my head on and off his dick, using my mouth as his personal pocket pussy. Grabbing both sides of my face, moaning loudly in this parking structure like we are outside alone. He literally has no fear of being caught in this moment. Brandon’s dick is so deep down my throat that he’s breathing for the both of us.

I feel his precum slip pass my lips. He stops. He pulls me off my knees and stands me up, just to pull down my leggings, revealing my cummed in panties. He begins to take his dick to rub my clit while I stand there defenseless.

Brandon forcefully turns me around, placing me in position. I automatically arch the posture of my back, taking my hands to spread my giant ass to show my wet dripping pussy that’s salivating for his erection to be inside me.

“Such a good girl, still obedient like I remember. Tell me what you want” he orders me.

“Fuck me hard please. Take my pussy from me” I say patiently waiting for him to beat my pussy like an Undertaker versus Mankind cage match.

He forces his dick inside my tight wet pussy, moaning hard as he enters. I grip him hard with my pussy as he’s thrusting aggressively in and out of me.

He’s pulsating inside of me as he’s moving. I’m feeling every inch of him as he’s continuing to grow inside of me. Just moving back and forth, harder and harder. I’m moaning so loud and hard, tears in my eyes from how good it feels to have his dick inside me. Holding my breasts as he’s making me take his dick roughly outside where everyone can see.

“Oh my God Dev, you’re gonna make me cum. I’m about to cum. Do you want it in your favorite place?” He says as I scream out “Yes” in reply.

I fall to my knees like a sinner who needs prayer, open my mouth to the heavens and wait for him to bless me. He releases an outpouring of his creaminess all over my face and mouth, as I devour every drop that hits my throat.

He moans as he shakes out every drop til he’s empty. I swallow the rest of him and what’s left of my pride as he kisses me in completion. My pants still around my ankles, he grips my ass holding me in place as he continues to kiss me softly.

I buckle his pants as he helps me with mine. I brush my hand across his face and we embrace each other knowing that he has to go.

“Goodbye Brandon.” I kiss him on the cheek. He walks away silently. Staring back a few times before he’s out of my view.

I said last time would be the last time.

Happy Monday 💋

[glassartpeasants]

How to Love .03

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst

A/N: Sorry that it's shorter then normal but i can not tell you how hard i had to grind to get this shit out.

music playlist

~~~

“Law? You alive?” Soft fingers could be felt gently skimming against Law’s forehead, making him lean into their warmth before his eyes snapped open.

Jumping up, Law looks around his room before seeing you kneeling down beside his bed. His heart slowly calms before finally finding the words to speak. “(Y/N)? What are you doing in my room?”

“Well, good evening to you, too.” Rubbing his eyes, Law looks at you with a confused look.

“What? Evening?” Turning to his alarm clock, he sees it’s 8 am.

“We had a power outage due to an unexpected storm last night. I thought you might have already fixed your clock, but I was wrong.” Law jumps out of his bed and opens his curtains to see a beautiful sunset staring back at him.

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?! What time is it?!”

“It’s currently 6 pm. Also, I thought you were actually trying to catch up on sleep.” Standing up, Law looks at (Y/N) in bewilderment before pacing around.

“I have stuff I need to do! Shit, I need to pay bills.”

“Done.”

Stopping in his tracks, Law stares at you. “What?”

“I said done. I paid them.”

“I also made a sheet with finances on everything I know we’ve spent at least together in the last month. I didn’t go through your mail. Went grocery shopping and cleaned the entire house. I did save some financing things so we can go through them together.”

“I-”

“I did everything.” A silence covers Law and you as you both look at each other.

“Why?”

“You always work so hard! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep in once since I’ve known you! For a doctor, you think you’d take care of yourself more.” Law watches as you cross your arms.

“I…Thank you.” Law says in almost a whisper. “But never let me sleep in again.”

“But you look so refreshed! Even if you got wild bedhead.” You tease. Law grumbles before trying to flatten his hair, only for it to bounce back. You can’t help but giggle.

“Maybe if you take a shower, it’ll fix it.”

“Alright. Now get out.” You can feel Law push you out of his room before closing the door.

“What? No ‘Thank you for waking me up (Y/N)?’” You say sarcastically.

“I would have said that if it wasn’t 6 pm!” His voice rang from behind the door.

“So ungrateful!” You chuckle before walking away towards the kitchen. The smell of dinner is too much to resist.

As soon as Law heard you walk away, a loud crash and curse left your lips.

“Fuck! Bepo, no!” Law quickly put on a decent shirt before running out to the dining room. His jaw dropped as he watched you holding Bepo, who had a whole grilled fish in his mouth.

“Spit it out! How dare you eat my fish, you asshole! I thought we were cool!” Law was speechless, so he watched his cat and roommate fighting over fish.

Turning your head, you saw Law just standing there. “Law! Help me! Little shit has my food!” You get a good grab on the fish, and just as you think you’ve gotten it, Bepo takes another bite.

Law can’t help but stiffle a laugh as he watches you fight with Bepo. When you finally lost grip of the fish, Bepo made a break for it, which led you to begin chase.

“Damnit, cat! Give it to me!” Law hears you yell from down the hall. Chuckling, Law moved to what used to be the dinner you made. Paw prints everywhere as well as nibble marks from Bepo’s teeth. White cat hair covering every inch of food.

“He’s never jumped on the table and ate our food before. What’s gotten into him?” 

He could hear you stomping and cursing your way back to the kitchen, telling him that you were unsuccessful in your mission. When you entered the kitchen, you stood beside him and looked at the mess Bepo had reduced dinner to.

“Looks like he ate good tonight.” Law chuckled, trying to lighten up your now-soured mood.

“He probably just gained all the weight we’ve worked so hard for him to lose! Why would he do this? He’s never done this before!” You whine. With a frown, you begin to clean up the ruined dinner.

“This fucking sucks. I spent so long on this dinner for you, and he came along and ate it!” Law’s eyes widen upon hearing your words.

“You made it for me?” Law watches you stiffen before going back to normal posture.

“Yeah, I did. I wanted you to have a stress-free day, but Bepo decided to be an asshole and destroy dinner!” You sigh as you throw away the destroyed food before putting the dishes in the sink to wash.

“I don’t wanna order takeout 'cause I know you don’t like fast food. I just…” You sigh as you try to figure out what to do.

“Takeout is not that bad. We can order something and watch TV…together?”

Feeling your heartbeat pick up its pace, you gulp before answering. “You sure? I don’t wanna force you to eat food you don’t like just to cheer me up.”

“I’m sure we can find something. I think Olive Garden delivers?”

“Olive Garden, huh? Never took you for a pasta fan.” You joke, trying to lighten up the mood.

“I’m a sucker for restaurants who put actual effort into making their food.”

You laugh. “And our old classmates said you weren’t funny.”

“What? Who the hell said that?” Law’s offended tone made you smile.

“Doesn’t matter. You're a doctor making big bucks and saving lives while they're cleaning Mcdonald's bathrooms for quick cash.” Law couldn’t help but feel a slight smile tug at his lips from your words.

A laugh escapes Law’s throat. “I guess if you think so, that’s all that matters.” Law pauses as soon as he realizes what he’s said. Yet he doesn’t see how his words bring a smile to your face.

~~~

You can’t help the smile that sticks to your face as you work endlessly to fulfill customers' orders. Your mind is running with the thought of Law and his smile.

“What’s got you all smiley?” Killer asks you as he cleans the counter.

“What? Am I not allowed to smile?”

“You are, but that’s not a regular smile you got on your face there.” His words make you stop in your tracks as you snap your head in his direction.

“You have someone on your mind, don’t you?” You can practically hear the smirk behind his mask.

“You don’t know what the hell you're talking about, Killer.”

“I bet it’s Law, huh? Doesn’t shock me. You’ve been his roommate for about five months and went through a breakup together.” You hit Killer in the arm.

“Shut up! What if someone hears you!” You whisper with a burning face.

“Afraid he’s gonna show up and hear me saying the truth?”

“Killer, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to murder you.” Killer only laughs as he looks at you.

“Yeah, okay (Y/N). Whatever you say.” You huff as you look down at the clean coffee machine in front of you. Killer’s words bouncing in your skull. You didn’t want to admit it, but maybe Killer was right. Perhaps you were falling in love with him again.

“I did have a thing for him in college. Before dating Eustass. I ended up falling for him during our time together working on that project.” Killer stops cleaning as he looks at you. Silent but wanting to hear your words.

“I don’t know what it was about him, but by the end of the project we were grouped together for, I had ended up falling for him. Hard. It took me a lot of convincing, but I thought that maybe he liked me too.”

“Did he?”

You stay silent before answering. “ I guess not because my best friend asked him out, and he said yes.” A deep pang shot through your heart as you remembered.

“She had told me afterward that she liked him since we started college but never told me until I talked to her about asking someone out. I didn’t say Law’s name, but he was the one I was talking about.” Sighing, you grip the counter.

“Her telling me she’s liked him since we started college broke me. How could I try dating the man I liked for a whole semester while my friends liked him from the beginning? It broke my heart to hear him agree to be her boyfriend. Having her bring him around was like torture the first few months.”

“While I, of course, never acted out of place with Law while he was with (.....), I only managed to get over him when I heard him say ‘I love you’ to her. That was when I knew I had lost. After a few months after that at graduation, I begin to date Eustass. After that, we slowly stopped talking and only saw each other when it was with (.....). Until five months ago.”

“When you caught Eustass and (.....)?”

“Yeah…When I caught them.” Your heart burns at the memory, but not as bad as it had been before. What used to be a stab in the heart now felt like a bee sting.

“How am I supposed to tell him that I’ve fallen for him again? What if he doesn’t feel the same? How am I supposed to live with him? Not to mention, ruin a friendship.”

“I suppose that does complicate things.”

“I don’t understand. How come this has to happen? It’s like the universe is doing this to fuck with me. Shoving something in my face that I want something I can’t have.” Killer stays quiet as he listens to you speak.

“It’s easier just to shove them down before you end up hurt.”

~~~

“Is that a smile on our grumpy doctor's face? What’s got you all happy?” the charge nurse teased Law.

“Your the second person to tell me that, and it’s annoying me.” The nurse chuckled.

“Oh, please, Law. Everyone can see you’ve got something on your mind, or is it…someone?” The nurse watches as Law tenses, and his cheeks dust pink.

The nurse squeals. “It is!” She claps her hands in excitement. "You have to tell me! I promise I won’t tell anyone!”

“No! I’m not telling you anything!” Law whisper yells.

“Aw, why not? I could give you advice!”

“I’m not telling you about my personal life! So stop asking!”

Huffing, the nurse gave up. “Fine! But here, there is a 3rd-degree burn case in room eight. Says a new co-worker turned up the coffee machine too high, and when it accidentally spilled on her hand, it scalded her.” Law snatches the clipboard and narrows his eyes at the nurse before making his way to room eight.

Opening the door, he expected anyone but the person before him. “(Y/N)?!”

“Hi, Law,” you chuckle nervously. “I didn’t know you worked in the ER.” Law can hear the nervousness in your voice. His eyes scan your body before seeing your bandaged hand. He carefully grabs your hand and looks at it.

“How did this happen?”

“A relatively new co-worker put the coffee temperature too high, so when I went to pour it and accidentally spilled some on me, it got all over my hand and burned it. I didn’t think it was that serious initially, but Killer made me come in. And now it turns out I have a third-degree burn.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No. Not really.”

“Well, you're an idiot for not coming in sooner.”

“It didn’t hurt other than the initial pain of being burnt!”

“That’s cause it burnt away your nerves!” Your shocked expression told him all he needed to know. Law sighs as he examines your burn. 

“It’s definitely a 3rd-degree burn; you're gonna have to keep it bandaged and change it at least once daily. It’s not big enough to need surgery, but it’s still gonna scar. Drink a lot of fluids. I’m prescribing you an antibiotic to prevent infection.”

“Alright. Good thing I live with you. You can help me with it all.” You say with a smirk, causing him to roll his eyes but with a smile. 

“But forgetting about me, how’s your day going? Did you drink your fluids?”

“I’m the doctor, and you're the patient. Don’t try that with me.” Law chuckles.

“You seem to be popular with the ladies' Law. A lot of nurses are looking at you from outside the room.” Law’s head snaps to the doorway to see a few nurses sticking their heads into the room through the doorway.

“I’ll be back.” You giggle as Law walks away and out the door.

Leaving the room and closing the door, Law turns his head to the nurses. “What are you doing?!” Law whisper yells at them.

“She’s the one that's got you all smiley, isn’t she?!” The nurses squeal.

“No, she isn’t! She’s just my roommate until she finds a place she can afford!” Law tries to defend himself, but the pink that swarms his cheeks tells the nurses everything.

“She is! And you're even roommates with her! That’s perfect! Come on, you have to ask her out on an official date!”

“That’s not happening! God, you people are so nosy!”

“What’s stopping you-”

“I’m not her type, alright?” Law snaps, causing the nurses to hush.

Running a hand through his hair, Law sighs. “I’m not her type, so even if I did like her, she wouldn’t say yes.”

“How do you know?”

“I went to college with her. That’s all your gonna get.” Law runs a hand through his hair.

You rotten his brain and wormed your way into his heart. Somehow, in the semester-long project he did with you all those years ago, he ended up gaining feelings for you. There was just something about you. The way you laughed, your smile, how you always seemed as happy, the list could go on.

He was sure you liked him too. How you looked at him couldn’t be anything other than it, right? You’d scoot closer to him when you both worked on the project—texting him about things other than the project. Bringing him food you had made.

He wanted to, oh, how he desperately wanted to ask you out. So when he got a note on the desk he always sat on had a note that said to meet him at the park, he was so sure it was you. It had your handwriting and everything. It had to be you. And when he saw (.....), your friend instead of you, he was shocked.

She had told him that you had written the note for her cause she was too scared to do it during school hours. She had even joked about a double date with you and a guy you were thinking about asking out. He felt his heart break when he heard it. Did he really jump to conclusions and think you liked him when you could have just been friendly?

All these thoughts ran through his mind that day. He didn’t know why at the time, but he did say yes to (.....) asking him out on a date. Possibly to forget the pain he felt? A distraction? He didn’t know.

But now, those feelings he thought were snuffed out reappeared stronger than ever. He wanted to be with you all the time. All he could think about was you. Even worse than college. His dreams were filled with images of you. He heard your voice when you weren’t there. Almost everything reminded him of you. He could look at a cloud and somehow be reminded of a memory you two shared.

Ever since you moved in as well, his diet has gotten relatively healthier. While he still drank coffee and energy drinks nonstop, you always ensured he ate. Hell, you’ve even started making him lunches to bring to work two months ago when you found out he usually didn’t eat anything during his shift. He couldn’t help but chuckle cause with every lunch came with a terribly drawn Bepo picture on whatever color sticky note you had. Each one he kept in his desk drawer.

“Law! What do you want for dinner?” You yell through the rooms door to Law, causing him to be pulled from his thoughts.

“Just roommates, huh?” One of the nurses asked with a smirk while the others held smug grins. They could easily see through the stoic doctor's facade. 

“Just roommates.” Law glares before entering the room to answer your question.

“I give it another month before he caves.”

“I say two. He seems to be pretty worried about his friendship with her.”

“True, I say three, though. Gotta give him time to boil in his feelings for a little longer.” The nurses converse with each other as they try to sneak peeks at the doctor and the cause of his smile.

~~~

“Law, hurry up! It’s about to start!” You yell to him. The sound of his footsteps rings throughout the apartment, letting you know that he heard you.

“I’m coming. I’m coming. Give me a second.” Chuckling, Law sits down next to you on the couch. 

“I’m so excited! I can’t believe they’re making a Sora: Warrior of the Sea show! You know what that means, right?” You squirm in your seat in excitement. 

Putting his feet up, Law looks at you. “ What does it mean?” He says with a smile.

“That means every Thursday we get to hang out and watch a new episode! Doesn’t that sound awesome?” You can feel your heart beating out of your chest from happiness as you smile brightly at him.

Law looked down at you and felt his heart leap. You were so excited to be near him. Telling him how you couldn’t wait for it to be a common occurrence. Despite him telling himself not to go down this road again. He couldn’t help but imagine how it’d be if you two were an actual thing—feeling your warmth against his cold frame, holding you close. Laying down next to you at night, hearing your soft breaths. Being able to admire your calm features as you sleep. And even feel your lips against his.

Law could see you sitting next to him, so close your thigh touched his. You didn’t seem to notice or care, which made his heart beat in his ears. He couldn’t even pay attention to the show, as he was more focused on you and how close you were to him. There was an itch inside him, telling him to do something. Now would be the perfect time to make a move, even if it was small. So, taking a breath, he took the risk.

Law moves his arm up slowly before laying it behind you on the couch. His heart beats rapidly, as he pretends not to notice he’s done it, giving you quick glances to see if you’ve noticed anything. So far, to him, you haven’t

But you noticed right away.

You were screaming internally with excitement and nervously biting your tongue. Could it mean he liked you too? Was it an accident? Either or made your heart beat against your ribs. Your head spins as you try to act cool and not show how excited you were to have him so close to you.

If he had made a move, then who were you to ignore it? So, with an internal deep breath, you lean back against his arm. His warmth makes a shiver run across your spine. It felt as if your face and body was on fire from his skin touching yours. You curled your toes in your socks as you tried to contain a steady breathing.

You take a swallow the lump in your throat as you decide to take a jump of hope. With a sharp intake of breath, you lean closer into Law, placing your head on his shoulder. His cologne flooding you like a calming aroma. In his arms felt like a dream come true. Laying against his shoulder as his arm laid behind your head. 

Even though the you told yourself that you wouldn’t fall for Law or act on your feelings, sometimes it’s okay to lie. Even if it’s to yourself.

~~~

Taglist:

@yuki190 @stachelrose @loraleiii @axcel-lucci @st4rfevrr @rexspersonalhell @nanapurinpurin @elen-alambil @starlightkitten19 @bby-deerling @queenofthekill @chaes-tea @emmaiscool22 @shuujin @augustanna @likeliterallywtf @iraaiitz @cherrybomb5000 @lavenderkaye106 @jabean @wrennyx @jamaicaa-blakee @ashortdork @kat2tired @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @getsue @kaptain-rebekah @reigenmagnet @rebeccawinters @keenzinemugstudent @mydearlybeloathed @firefistussy @throne-inmyside @littleleelee @thepurpleempath @yuji4lierrr @whodissbitj @slut-for-buck @ihatespidersdie @bluebunny002 @gabi-moureira @blairbellerose @luciledreamz @mrstraffy @yukiyury @lunalovesthe-moon @kenqki

[algae-tm]

Kill Bill P.7

Charles Leclerc x famous singer ex!reader

previous part next part

Author’s note : all the songs are real although I’ve played around with who’s featured on what, but I recommend everyone listen to the songs I’ve chosen not for any particular reason just cause they slap and I had such fun creating a playlist for this AU.

Also, I have WAYYY too much time on my hands now that uni is over… so hope you enjoy - Algae🌱

•••••

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by y/bff/n, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 32,324,487 others

yourusername : ‘TIDES’ out now on all streaming platforms 💚

y/bff/n : Now you did not play me Cellophane when i listened to this earlier! Why do you have me crying in walgreens by the edamame beans??

— yourusername : girl? do you want me to come get you?

— y/bff/n : please.

— y/bff/n : HURRY UP nobody gets me started playing and the cashier is wondering why I’m using grapes to dry my tears.

user1 : y/bff/n is so real for that cause what do you mean, “didn’t I do it for you, why don’t I do it for you?” y/n please explain yourself STAT!

— user3 : no cause the most devastating part, ‘WHEN ALL I DO IS FOR YOU’ y/n I’m in your walls, how dare you start an album like that wtf?

user4 : oh okay 😀

lewishamilton : So fun collabing with you

user5 : no cause we were robbed! we should’ve had XNDA on girls need love.

— yourusername : I was not about to sing about fucking and sucking with my surrogate uncle! Even could’ve been was too much for me. y’all should be lucky I brought the old man out of retirement

— lewishamilton : glad you made that executive decision but I’m not that old :(

danielricciardo : me rn - 🎧😭🕺🪩😭😢

— yourusername : I appreciate you Danny 💚

— yourusername : but make sure you give your therapist a ring yeah?

— danielricciardo : on call with her rn!

user5 : what’s everyone’s favourite track and why is it love on the brain?

— user6 : how could you even choose?? This might be a no skip album I fear.

user8: I’m sorry y/n did not lay out the 5 minute from the heart ballad that is Ex-Factor for y’all to just not talk about it??

— user9: “no one loves you more than me, and no one ever will!” You listening Lord Perceval????

— user16: “no matter how I think we grow you always seem to let me know… IT AIN’T WORKING.”

— user13: but like if she’s trying to send a message to Charles it’s a bit disjointed no?

— user10: ex-factor isn’t to Charles Leclerc

— user11: be so fr who is it for then??

— user10: it’s obviously y/n grappling with her conflicting emotions… it’s not meant to be for Charles. This whole album is her going through it. She’s sorting thru her emotions. Are y’all dumb or stupid?

— user15: alright now

user21: AHHSHHEJSJSJSKEDVDKZKSUDJ

— user23: real.

hallebailey: call me asap for any more collabs, had such fun on Forgive Me!

— yourusername: love you hal x

— chloebailey: do not call her! She got her chance call me! (liked by yourusername)

y/bff/n: SUPERMODEL??!!?? Another one you didn’t let me listen to???

— yourusername: cause I knew you’d smack me upside the head for begging a man to see me as pretty enough.

— user24: WHO DIDN’T THINK YOU WERE PRETTY ENOUGH?! CHARLES?!! LET ME AT HIM!

oscarpiastri: on repeat 🎶

— user31: Oscar 😭 it’s giving desperate

— user26: keep commenting, she’ll reply one day!

— user27: bros talking to himself in her comments

sza: album of the year I fear

— yourusername: Solana 💚 couldn’t have done it without you

user32: @oscarpiastri are you the homeboy she’s been secretly banging like she says on supermodel?

— yourusername: I have NOT been secretly banging anyone’s homeboy! Supermodel is the only track with joint writing creds! I fear @sza came up with that lyric. (Comment deleted by yourusername)

— user34: NO Y/N let Charles think you’ve been secretly doing Oscar!

— user35: @user34 love me some psychological warfare!

landonorris: first!

— yourusername: you literally are the last person to comment😒😒

••••

Y/N Strips Off Expectations on Her New Album ‘TIDES’

R&B superstar delivers sharp barbs and haunting melodies on her long-awaited LP, amidst relationship drama with ex Charles Leclerc.

By Will Dukes

June 10, 2024

If you thought the singles released prior to the album were indicative of the direction this LP would take, think again. Y/n’s highly anticipated latest release, "TIDES," is an ambitious and masterful exploration of love's euphoria and its darker, toxic undertones. Known for her sultry R&B style, y/n transcends genre boundaries in this 15-track opus, weaving together dance, electronic, pop, and reggae influences to craft a cohesive narrative.

The album opens with "Cellophane," a haunting electronic ballad reminiscent of FKA Twigs' ethereal work. This opening track is something we’ve never seen from y/n, yet her delicate vocals float over a sparse, echoing production, setting a tone of vulnerability and foreshadowing the emotional journey ahead. This track is a stunning prologue, drawing listeners into a world where love is as fragile as the titular cellophane.

As we transition to the 3rd track of the album "Forgive Me," the album's pulse quickens. The track opens with a haunting, ethereal intro that quickly gives way to a pulsating beat and assertive bass line, setting a commanding tone. Y/n’s and Halle’s harmonies are immediately striking, blending seamlessly while each woman’s distinct vocal timbre adds depth and texture to the song. Their voices convey both strength and a sense of liberation as they sing about reclaiming their power and refusing to apologize for their choices. Mid-album, "Doo Wop (That Thing)" introduces a surprising but seamless shift. The pop-reggae rhythm provides a laid-back contrast to the preceding tracks, reflecting a momentary calm in the tumultuous relationship. Yet, y/n’s lyrics hint at something more sinister, the song can be seen as a warning, y/n clearly saying to her listeners I’ve made mistakes and here is how you can avoid them.

I won’t blame anyone for mistaking her single “Kill Bill” as the climax of the album. That is what y/n wants you to believe but the climax arrives with "Mary Magdalene" an electronic ballad that ties with the opening track “Cellophane.” For me "Mary Magdalene," is a standout, embodying the album's central themes. Drawing on the figure of Mary Magdalene, y/n reclaims and redefines her story, exploring themes of femininity, devotion, and resilience. The song's intricate layering and hypnotic rhythms create an almost spiritual experience, inviting listeners to delve into its complex emotional landscape. The production is haunting, with distorted synths and echoing beats mirroring the disintegration of trust and affection. y/n’s vocal performance here is raw and powerful, her pain palpable as she sings, "a woman’s touch, a sacred geometry. I know where you start where you end. How to please, how to curse.”

"TIDES" concludes with "Mirrored Heart," a poignant ballad that brings the narrative full circle, echoing the album’s opening. With an album so tumultuous listeners would probably wish for a sense of closure. This song does not give you that, rather you’ll be left questioning ‘what’s next.” y/n’s voice, both fragile and resilient, lingers long after the final note.

In "TIDES," y/n not only expands her musical palette but also delivers a profound and relatable story. This album is a testament to her artistry, marking her as a versatile, timeless and fearless force in contemporary music. It’s a disjointed album, songs sometimes seem out of place, but like the title “TIDES,” suggests, and given the situation that inspired the album, that is exactly the atmosphere y/n was looking to create.

••••

INSTAGRAM

charles_leclerc

Liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,256,712 others

charles_leclerc : best believe I’ll move on to better things

user1: do y’all hear that?

user3: not you using lyrics from y/n’s song it’s giving desperate.

user4: poor Alex

landonorris: what is bro doing lmao

user5: oh -

arthur_leclerc: if before you had a chance now you have 0 😂

— user5: oh Arthur’s messy messy

—lorenzotl: we want our sister in law back, and this idiot isn’t doing us any favours.

user6: I’m sorry this is so disrespectful to Alex. Just cause you guys broke up doesn’t mean you can do this

user7: lmao get a life

carlossainz55: cabron… this is not what we agreed you’d do 😅

lewishamilton: 😒

— danielricciardo: 😒

— georgerussel63: 😒

— y/bff/n: 😒

— francisca.cgomes: 😒

pierregasly: brother delete this 😔

— oscarpiastri: 😂

(this post has been deleted)

••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee @callsignwidow

[curatorofvibes]

Saturn in the 11th House

Saturn in the 11th / Eleventh House natal. Don’t let astrology limit you, you can be who you dream you are!

Saturn in the 11th House. That feeling that you can’t “fit in”, especially with your age group. Yearning for a true connection, people who really love you for you and not how you make them feel, what you can give them, or the idea of you. Wanting to be recognized and given your flowers while you’re still here to receive them (give them their props, they tend to feel really unappreciated). Loving being alone as a result of never really feeling like you connect with others or feeling understood. Just hating surface level shit. But wait... Have you ever had a friendship break your heart? Lol but no seriously!? Like I trusted you and I let you in, I showed you the most vulnerable parts of myself and that’s something I never do. It’s like.. How could you? I understand some people don’t really take friendships that seriously and just go around calling anyone and everyone their “friend” and “best friend”, but that shit means a lot to the native with this placement and it’s not just a title. If they consider you a friend they really mean it. Can I be understood and loved for me? You can’t give that to me, so I have no problem giving that to myself. ~♡CuratorofVibes♡

Saturn in the Eleventh House Perfect Description (in my opinion): Saturn In The Eleventh House : The Atheris hispida Snake

Here’s the link to the playlist:

(…)

(At this point just... leave me alone.)

(I don’t know who to trust anymore.)

(“I’d rather have quality than quantity.”)

(I want to be loved for me.)

(Trust Issues.)

(“I like bein’ alone.”)

("Please don't think I'm insecure.")

(I'm surrounded by so many people, yet I feel so alone.)

(Find myself asking: “Is this really what people talk about and value?”)

(“If you go cost my peace, then I go take my leave.”)

(I’ve decided to remain reclusive.)

(I don’t “fit in”, and that’s fine.)

(Far beyond pretending that I need you.)

(“Me, myself and I. That's all I got in the end, that’s what I found out.” - Beyoncé)

(I choose me.)

(Will anyone ever really see me?)

(♄.)

I originally made this post on December 27, 2021 and then I put it on private for reasons that I do not recall. I'm unable to reblog the original and its moodboard, so I've created this new post. I hope whoever indulges in and with this playlist and post enjoys it. I love reading comments, so if you have anything to say about this placement, playlist, and/or post don't be shy (but if you are, send something in the asks lol)! 🤎💫

I would also like to state that I'm not an astrologer, I created this post because of the playlist that I made in relation to this astrological placement and simply wanted to share it with whoever it finds its way to.

NOTE: PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO REPOST, PLEASE GIVE CREDIT.

[glass--beach]

(Forever????????) has such a hold on me. How did it come to be?

started when i stumbled upon this video on youtube

it’s a very pretty song but the cloyingly sweet americana of it all made it ripe for ironic decontextualization. i took a little loop of the song and used it as an outro for bedroom community, overlaid with an audio recording of my therapist from college leading me through hypnosis to attempt to calm me while i was suffering a very intense manic episode. (this man might have been a bit of a quack but i have yet to meet a therapist who is not on SOME kind of bullshit). it’s meant as a tragic ending to bedroom community, the return to status quo, stepping over the bodybags and going back to regular american suburban life. it’s the moment of panic that god it really is gonna be like this forever and then it’s the repression. the moment of submission to the cissexist culture…

now of course i didn’t even end up using that version, i was a little wary of both any copyright issues that might come from so prominently featuring a well known sample and also sharing what was meant to be a very private audio recording and so i ended up taking the chord progression & melody of the song and using it as a jumping off point for what was basically a new composition. (the old version is in the demos that we released though). the final one is just two guitars playing slightly different arpeggios of the song’s chords and some synths doing the melody. to me i think much of the intended meaning still comes through but being an instrumental with its reference points pretty obfuscated i think most just take it as a very pretty but melancholy song.

i’m fascinated by the near universal nostalgic feeling people seem to get from it. our youtube upload and many unofficial ones are loaded with comments of people mourning deceased loved ones or old relationships. i get it and find that all very sweet and beautiful but i can’t help but feel conflicted as someone who, despite often feeling obsessed with the past as much as anyone, would consider myself politically anti-nostalgia. bedroom community makes that a little more overt with its criticism of the anachronistic suburban “middle class” order being upheld through implicit (sometimes explicit) violence - the “son of a soldier…” verse especially. forever is in conversation with the same idea but has ironically been so decontextualized as to now seemingly take on the meaning of the original song i had sampled. i think its success on streaming through sleep/study playlists contributed to my complete rejection of “vibe” based playlists & passive music listening in general that led to the intentionally obtuse aesthetic & writing of plastic death.

umm anyway i’m glad you like the song!! i like it a lot too. it was one of those rare instances in music making where i truly felt i was channeling the divine. i didn’t struggle with it at all, it’s just, one day it wasn’t and the next day it was. i’ve not really talked about it at length much and last time i did i don’t think i could properly get across what it meant to me or why i did it the way i did. i understand my then 23 year old self more than ever now though lol

[sansaorgana]

📻 PLAYLIST — LEADER OF THE PACK

TRACK 1. — HE'S A GOOD GUY (YES, HE IS) BY THE MARVELETTES ⏮ ⏸ ⏭

PAIRING — Benny Cross x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — On the first day of high school you meet a new friend. Your parents say he's from the wrong side of the tracks but you can't be convinced as you develop a crush on him, not knowing yet that it is only the beginning of a much bigger adventure you are going to have with Benny Cross in the next few years.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The gif is NOT a faceclaim – the Reader's looks are not described. I just wanted the vibe of a retro high school and it's not even the correct era lol I have no idea yet how many parts this story will be but I missed writing for Austin's characters and I wanted to finally write down the idea I've had for a while now. Also, this time I decided to lowkey use the playlist format since this sort of music is one of my favourite genres (old r&b, soul, doo wop etc.) 🥰 Of course you don't have to actually listen to those songs! 😅

WARNINGS — era accurate sexism and mindset of characters (I assumed it would be like late 1950s / early 1960s and they are from a small town), Reader and Benny are minors in this part (they are not even a couple, though)

WORD COUNT — 5,470

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LEADER OF THE PACK (TRACK 1.)

“Have you made any new friends at school?” Your mother asked with a smile when you were chewing on a steak with mashed potatoes. You nearly sighed at her question, trying very hard not to roll your eyes. Why were parents always asking that?

Well, to be fair, you had never had many friends.

There was Rachel whom you had known ever since you two had been toddlers. Rachel was definitely your best friend. Back in the day there had also been Tammy. There had always been the three of you everywhere but for about a year now Tammy had been acting differently. Ever since she had started dating, that is. Her boyfriend Louis was in the football team and he wasn’t even saying hi to you or Rachel. 

“I don’t know if it counts as making a friend but…” you started, nervously fidgeting with the fork in your hand. The person you were about to mention was a boy and you were scared of everyone’s reactions.

Your mother would tease, probably. Father and older brother would begin their interrogation as if it was anything serious.

“Miss Cooper sat me with this one boy,” you finally revealed and you watched your father lowering the newspaper he had been hiding behind until now. He raised an eyebrow at you after exchanging a meaningful look with your older brother Luke.

“Why did she tell you to sit with a boy?” Your mother smiled.

“What boy?” Your father asked, harshly.

“I’m supposed to help him in class. He’s nice but not the brightest, if you get me,” you tried to explain. “He’s not stupid – just slow when it comes to studying,” you quickly added.

“So he’s stupid,” Luke rolled his eyes.

“No!” You defended your new friend immediately.

“Who is he?” Your father repeated the question, irritated already that you had ignored him the first time and that you were fighting with your brother. Women in that household were supposed to be quiet and obedient.

He hadn’t survived the war for his own daughter to act like a brat – that was what your father was often saying. He was using the war to guilt trip you, your mother and Luke whenever he thought it was needed. 

“His name is Benny,” you nodded at your father. “Benjamin Cross,” you added.

Your parents looked at each other with a quiet sigh.

“What is it?” You asked and looked at your brother questioningly but he seemed to be as oblivious as you were why your parents reacted that way.

“I’m sure he is a nice boy…” your mother started softly, “but he is not from a good family.”

“They’re from the wrong side of the tracks,” your father explained. “Doesn’t surprise me that the boy is slow. I’ve never seen his father sober. I think he’s lost every job he has ever had.”

“And his mother?” Luke asked, curious already. One thing about your brother was that he was extremely nosy and an awful gossip.

“What about his mother? I haven’t seen her in ages,” your father looked at your mother.

“I do believe that Mrs. Cross passed away some time ago,” your mother hummed to herself. “Yes! I remember now,” she nodded eagerly. “She died two years ago. Evie told me about it last winter when we were Christmas shopping.”

“What Evie?” Your father asked.

“You know Evie! The one living down the road. Jack’s wife, that accountant.”

“Ah, yeah, yeah, Jack’s wife,” your father picked up the newspaper again. “Either way, Benny Cross is not your new friend,” he decided as he gave you a stern look. You felt your cheeks heating up. “He’s just a boy that Miss Cooper sat you with to help him. That’s it,” he finished and hid himself behind the newspaper again.

“And if he ever bothers you, just tell me!” Luke pointed his finger at you and you nodded nervously, going back to your meal.

Even though your father had decided that Benny Cross was not your friend, it was difficult to remember about that. Perhaps his grades were not good and his clothes were poor but who ever cared about such things? What mattered was that he knew how to make you laugh even though most of the time he was a quiet guy.

In fact, he was making you laugh so much that Miss Cooper angrily separated you two after three weeks of sitting together. She gave you a scolding look and said those words that would make your blood run cold under any other circumstances:

“I am so disappointed in you, (Y/N).”

But now you didn’t really care. You were just angry that she separated you from Benny. You introduced him to Rachel during lunch break but Rachel was not convinced.

“I don’t mind him. And you know that I couldn’t care less about his family!” She gasped when you accused her of being prejudiced. “It’s just… I think he might have a bad influence on you. On the both of us. We shouldn’t hang out with him for too long. But it’s very noble that you want to help him with his grades,” she assured you quickly when she spotted annoyance on your face.

“Why noble?” You asked her. “I didn’t even think of that. I just want to help my friend,” you explained.

“Oh, admit it!” Rachel giggled. “You fancy him.”

“What?!” Your eyes widened and you stopped walking, adjusting the books in your hand. Rachel chuckled and stopped as well, turning around to face you.

“Oh, (Y/N), come on, I have eyes, too. He’s handsome with those baby blue eyes and golden hair. And I’m sure you haven’t missed those muscles under his shirt. If it’s true what they say about his family, I am convinced he is used to physical work,” she covered her mouth to hide another giggle escaping her lips.

Truth to be told, you had never seen Benny Cross as a potential romantic interest… until now. You swallowed thickly at Rachel’s words, realising they were all true – he was a handsome boy with a devilish smile.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Rachel assured you. “But please, don’t become another Tammy and don’t leave me behind just because you have a crush!”

“I won’t!” You promised her with widened eyes and you grabbed her by her wrist to squeeze it. “I promise.”

Ever since that conversation with Rachel, you began to treat Benny a little differently. When he was making you laugh, you were trying to make your laughter sound more girly as you would throw your head back and fix your hair in a feminine manner. Instead of making silly faces at him, you started to cover your face with your hand to show him how flustered you were becoming. And for the very first time you didn’t spend your pocket money on a new record or a book – no, you spent it on a new pastel pink ribbon for your hair even though you knew that Benny would teasingly pull on it at school.

His hands were often dirty so whenever he pulled on it, he was leaving a small mark on the soft fabric of the ribbon. If it was any other boy, you would get frustrated and angry but you would never get angry at Benny – in fact, you were laying on the bed in the evenings, listening to your dreamy records and brushing the ribbon with your fingertips, tracing the marks left behind by Benny’s dirty fingers.

You never minded the dirty hands – they only meant he was working hard. He revealed to you that he had to do a lot of jobs after school to help his father to earn enough money to get through the month. In the end, instead of getting a thanks, he would often get a beating from his drunk old man. He was never talking kindly about him and you couldn’t blame Benny for that. There was a lot of hatred in your new friend whenever he mentioned his father and those were the moments when you were quite scared but also intrigued – when his pretty eyes filled with sparkles and hatred. He would quickly soften again, though.

It was obvious, though, that he had no time to study after school or do his homework. You were trying to help him but he was too ashamed to invite you over to his place and you were scared of taking you home because your father would not be happy about it. You never said anything about it but it was as if Benny knew anyway – he never proposed to go to your place after school. So, the only time you had to help him study was during the lunch break.

Rachel was sometimes sitting with you two but she was not happy about it. She had you all for herself after school, though, so she was trying to be understanding. When it came to Benny’s friends… Well, he didn’t have them.

Benny was too strong and too mean looking to be pushed around so the kids just left him alone and let him be. However, the boys from the football team – Tammy’s boyfriend included – were often making comments about Benny being stupid, poor or weird. You were always telling him not to listen and he was shrugging his arms, but it was hard to believe that he truly didn’t care about such things. They always had an impact on a person, especially so young.

The school in your small Illinois town was not big so your brother Luke was quickly told that you spend most of your lunch breaks sitting by the same table in the corner of the cafeteria with Benny Cross.

“I would like to ask (Y/N) about something,” he said during dinner on that day and everyone looked at you. You froze, already expecting the worst. You loved your brother because he was your family but you didn’t like him – too often he was trying to act like your father.

“What is it?” Your mother asked, worryingly.

“I was told that Miss Cooper separated (Y/N) and that Cross boy a few weeks ago because they were loud in class. Yet, I still see them spending lunch breaks together,” he revealed and your heart skipped a beat.

“You were loud in class?!” Your father snapped and you swallowed a lump in your throat as your hands began to shake.

“I… I am sorry…” You looked down.

“Don’t be angry at her! I am sure it was that boy’s fault!” Your mother defended you.

“Perhaps. Why does she still spend time with him then?” Your father observed you intensely.

“I… I want to help him,” you explained quietly. “I help him to study, that’s it. He is nice to me and it’s not like he’s stupid, he really is not!” You exclaimed after spotting Luke snorting at your words. “But he doesn’t have time to study after school.”

“Well, that is so noble of you, darling,” your mother caressed your arm but you flinched a little at the word that she used – noble. “We should be glad that our daughter is so helpful and compassionate,” she laid her eyes on your father.

“Being around that boy means trouble,” your father shook his head. “I cannot punish you for having a good heart,” he sighed. “Women tend to be too weak. That is why you have fathers and husbands to show you the right path.”

“And brothers,” Luke nodded but your father did not comment on that.

“I don’t want you to start getting worse grades because you put too much effort into helping somebody else,” your father pointed his finger at you.

“But daddy! I learn as well when I help Benny to study!” You protested.

“While you are repeating the basics with him, you could already study more advanced subjects yourself. Aren’t you always saying that you want to go to college one day?” He furrowed his brows and you shut your mouth. The college argument was always making you feel guilty, too. It was almost as bad as the war one. “I am not saving my hard-earned money for you to go to college only to find out you are wasting your time on a deadbeat Cross boy!”

“He is a lost cause, sweetheart, you must realise that,” your mother was much more gentle when she caressed your cheek but the meaning of her words was the same after all. “I know it’s sad but the truth is he is going to end up like his father and we cannot do anything to stop it. It’s a waste of time to try.”

“Enough,” your father raised his hand. “I don’t want to talk about that boy ever again.”

And just like that the rest of the meal went quietly with your mother occasionally trying to cheer your father up by bringing up some random facts from her boring day full of shopping, cooking and cleaning. 

After dinner, you stayed in the kitchen to help her clean the table and wash the dishes while your father and Luke were free to go and spend that time on whatever they wished.

You were drying the plates with a cloth, biting on your lower lip and waiting for the right time to start a private conversation with your mother.

“He’s nice to me, mommy,” you finally whispered.

“Hm?” She turned her head around to meet your gaze.

“Benny Cross. He is nice to me and he makes me laugh,” you tried to explain in the simplest way possible. “He is my friend now. I can’t just… I can’t just stop hanging around with him. He doesn’t have anyone.”

“He surely has some friends,” your mother furrowed her brows.

“Not at school, no. He mentioned some guys from his street but they don’t go to school anymore,” you explained.

“They’re older?”

“Not much. They just… They dropped out or got expelled,” you lowered your voice and your mother sighed, extending her hand to give you another plate to dry. “Mom! I know what it sounds like but I don’t think he’s a lost cause. I think a push into the right direction could save his life,” you were desperate to make her understand. “We cannot claim that we are good people when we turn our backs on those in need.”

You felt bad for referring to Benny as someone in need and you were sure that his pride would be bruised but you also were aware that it was the only argument that could convince your mother – she wanted to be a good person above anything else. She wanted to be known for her kindness and her nice family as if the whole meaning of her life revolved only around how others perceived her. She wanted to always be soft and feminine – just like your father wanted her to be. And she wanted the exact same from you but you had ambitions that both scared and impressed her. Like the fact you wanted to go to college or you had the courage to stand up for yourself and argue with your father sometimes.

“If it doesn’t interfere with your own studying then I don’t see a reason why you can’t help him,” she sighed as she nodded in a whisper. “However, I don’t think your father should know about it. I’ll try to talk to Luke and make him understand so he doesn’t snitch on you again,” she assured you and your eyes brightened.

“Thank you!” You squealed happily and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Mom?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Can I invite Benny here after school one day? Maybe on Friday? We don’t have many classes so we’d have a few hours before daddy comes back from work and Luke has his baseball practice at that time,” you tried to give her as many reasons as possible for her to agree.

“I don’t know, (Y/N)... I’m not sure if it’s a good idea,” your mother shook her head and went back to washing the dishes. You sighed and didn’t say anything else but you could see that she was intensely thinking about something. “On the other hand…” she started, “...your father is going out with his friends from work for dinner this Friday. He won’t be back until late in the evening.”

“So you agree?” Your eyes widened. “Oh, mom, you would meet him and I’m sure you’re going to see what I see… That he’s a nice boy!”

“Alright… But don’t make me regret that,” she gave you a scolding – but still soft – look.

Benny was trying to play it cool because he always tried to come off as unbothered by anything but you could see that he was nervous. He had one class less than you on that day but he promised to wait for you behind the school building and when you ran up to him with books in your hand, you spotted him throwing a cigarette on the ground before stepping on it with his shoe to put it out.

“Benny!” You gasped at the sight. You had no idea he was smoking. “My mom won’t like it when she smells the cigarette smoke on you!” You pointed out.

“She’ll think it’s my old man’s,” Benny only shrugged his arms and took the books from you to carry them for you. That sweet gesture made you forget in an instant about his awful habit you had just found out about.

You walked down the street to your house and you caught yourself struggling with a very odd mix of feelings – you felt proud walking down the street next to Benny Cross who was holding your books. His jeans were worn out, his blond hair ruffled and his steps heavy – no other boy around here looked or walked like him. And because of that… You felt a little ashamed, too. Just a little. And only because some of your neighbours were looking you up and down after you said good afternoon to them. You just hated the way they were staring.

Lost in such thoughts, you spotted that Benny was looking around uncomfortably. He was watching the houses and the perfectly trimmed lawns, the white picket fences and flowers planted in the gardens.

“Does it look different where you live?” You asked, naively. It was hard to imagine that not every neighbourhood where people lived didn’t look the same.

“You’ve never been there, have you?” Was all Benny asked as he cracked a sad smile with a hint of pity.

“N-no,” you admitted and shook your head, embarrassed of yourself.

“That’s alright, doll. I’m glad you haven’t and I hope you never will,” he nodded firmly.

“It’s here!” Thankfully, you had a reason to change the subject because Benny had nearly walked past your house. You grabbed him by his sleeve and pulled him towards your front door.

You pushed them open and walked inside as he began to fix his hair with his free hand and his face turned a shade paler.

“Mom, we’re home!” You announced and took your shoes off. Benny mirrored you and took his off as well but he seemed to be pretty surprised that it was your custom.

Your mother entered the hallway from the kitchen, wiping her hands in the apron. Her smile was cautious and soft as if she was approaching a wild, stray kitten abandoned by the road.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. (Y/L/N),” Benny straightened his back at the sight of her.

“Good afternoon, Benny. (Y/N)’s been talking a lot about you,” she hesitated but eventually extended her hand towards him and you hissed at her because you didn’t want her to mention such things that you were talking about him and all that. It was embarrassing.

“Mom!” You whined as Benny looked around, trying to find a spot where to put the books he had been carrying for you all the way home. You took them from him with an encouraging smile and he nodded at you before shaking your mom’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Benny said.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Benny. (Y/N) mentioned to me you are going to study, yes? Go to her room now and I’ll call you for dinner when the time comes,” your mother announced and your heart skipped a beat. You had no idea Benny could actually stay for the meal.

“Um… Benny, go upstairs,” you handed him the books again. “My room is on the left,” you added. “Wait for me there,” you said and he nodded.

You followed your mother to the kitchen.

“What is it?” She asked you. “I thought you’d be happy that I invited him.”

“I am! But what about Luke?” You squinted your eyes. You knew that your brother would not approve of that.

“He informed me this morning that he is taking Patsy on a date after practice. He won’t be home until evening,” your mother informed you.

“Patsy?” You chuckled. She was two years older than you – just like your brother. And she was everybody’s dream, so you were told. Beautiful, from a good family, obedient, with good grades. A perfect woman and a wife material.

Something you were scared you would never be.

“Yes, Patsy. I am so happy for him,” your mother grinned widely and you smiled, too, although you didn’t care about your brother enough to be happy for him. In fact, you gritted your teeth that everything in his life seemed to go so perfectly as always. Your father’s golden boy.

Would your life be similar if you had been born a man, too?

Either way, you hugged your mom and ran upstairs to join Benny inside your room. He was standing in the middle of it and looking around in a way that made your cheeks heat up. It was a typical girly room like millions of others but now you somehow felt embarrassed about it.

“It’s a bit childish,” you admitted.

“No, it’s very pretty,” Benny shrugged his arms and blushed when his eyes met yours. “I think it suits you,” he admitted and remained standing there awkwardly.

“Thank you,” You sat on the chair by the desk where he had put your books already and you pointed at your bed to let him know that he could sit on the edge of it. He did that but very carefully as if he was scared of making your sheets dirty.

You gathered the books and moved up to sit next to him so there would be no more distance between you two. You started with doing your homeworks together and you quickly realised your father might have been right about something – Benny would be a distraction. You couldn’t stop staring at his face. At his plump lips that made you think of nothing but kissing, at his beautiful, long eyelashes that were dark even though his hair was golden. Speaking of his hair – it was so fluffy and had different shades  of blond depending on the layers. You were counting all the moles on his cheeks and getting lost in his ocean blue eyes. Whenever your hands brushed each other while trying to turn the page at the same time, you couldn’t help but notice his big hands with long, thin fingers. Those were very pretty hands even though they were rough from all the physical work he was usually doing after school.

He was helping people for money – mowing the lawns, fixing sinks, carrying heavy things, all kinds of stuff. But what he enjoyed the most was fixing cars and motorbikes. He had revealed that to you recently and you thought it was adorable that he had a passion and it could actually be turned into a solid job later in life.

The longer you were explaining things to him, the faster he was understanding them. You were pretty convinced by now that he was not stupid at all.

“Benny?” You batted your eyelashes and he turned his head around to look deep into your eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Can you promise me something?” You dared to ask.

“What is it, doll?” He smirked. He would often call you a doll and perhaps you should have been offended by it but in fact it was causing you to have butterflies in your stomach.

“Promise me that you’re gonna finish high school, alright?” You furrowed your brows.

Benny was visibly surprised by your words. He didn’t get to answer, though, because the door opened widely without knocking and your mother walked inside. You and Benny moved away from each other slightly.

“The dinner is ready,” she announced with a smile. She seemed to be pretty happy with the sight of the open books and notebooks scattered everywhere. You nodded at her and you stood up to follow her downstairs. Benny walked behind you. “How was the studying?” Your mother asked when you were sitting by the table.

“It is going well, ma’am. Your daughter should become a teacher,” Benny smiled at her.

“She might! (Y/N) wants to go to college, has she told you?” Your mother asked him while putting salad and chicken onto his plate. “Will it be enough for you, Benny? Such a strong boy like you must eat a lot,” she chuckled before turning around to put the food on your plate as well.

“It is enough, ma’am. It looks delicious, thank you. I can’t remember when was the last time I had vegetables for dinner,” Benny chuckled nervously while you and your mother exchanged meaningful looks. You both were sorry for him.

“Well, you can eat as much of this salad as you wish. My husband and son are not dining with us this evening,” your mother explained softly before taking her seat and you all began to eat.

“Thank you,” Benny blushed.

The rest of the meal went pretty calm since Benny was a quiet boy most of the time. In fact, it made you feel special that he liked to make you laugh because he was not very fun with others around. He was an outsider towards most but you probably had made him like you because you had treated him kindly and you had tried to help him from the very beginning. You hadn’t judged him and you hadn’t made it feel like an act of charity.

Despite being of a quiet nature, Benny was answering your mother’s questions politely and, oh dear, she asked a lot. Lots of her questions were about Benny’s family and you just knew that she was itching to ask about how Benny's mother had died but thankfully she didn’t actually ask that.

She was in the middle of telling a funny story when all of you froze at the sound of the front door opening. You and your mother looked at each other, scared, and that was when Luke entered the dining room and winced at the sight of Benny.

You sighed with relief at the sight of him because your father would be a much worse possibility but it still did not mean that it was alright. You were nervous and so was your mother. She decided to play it cool.

“Oh, hi, honey!” She greeted her son. “How was the practice? How was your date with Patsy?” She tried to sound cheerful.

“Both went fine,” Luke answered with a clenched jaw as he looked Benny up and down. “What is (Y/N)’s… friend doing here?” He asked rudely and your mother gave him a scolding look.

“Well, that is not a nice way to greet a guest, is it? (Y/N) invited Benny to help him with homework and I wanted him to stay for the meal,” your mother explained.

Luke approached Benny with an extended hand as you watched the interaction with fear. You knew that for men it was some sort of a game of dominance. Benny hesitated for a very long and tense moment, staring at your brother’s hand with contempt. Finally, he stood up and shook it back. You could see his knuckles turning white from the strength he was using to show off how firm his hold could be.

“Nice to meet you,” Luke gave him a fake smile.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Benny nodded and sat back on his chair. “You been on a date with Patsy Carter?” He asked.

“Yes. Do you know her?” If Luke’s eyes could kill, Benny would be dead now.

“Nah, never spoke to ‘er but you know, it’s hard not to know who she is,” Benny winked at him playfully as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. You couldn’t understand why Benny wanted to provoke your brother so much. The situation was bad enough already.

“Are you insinuating something, Cross?” Luke’s fists clenched.

“Lucas!” Your mother tried to calm him down.

“Just sayin’ she’s a nice piece,” Benny commented and you looked away, trying to hide your anger.

You couldn’t believe that Benny said such a disrespectful thing about another girl – a girl your brother dated – in front of your own mother. It made you feel like a fool to ever defend him in front of your family. Perhaps they had been right – he was from the bad side of town and his ways were too different to try to change them.

“Don’t test me, kid,” Luke drawled out. Thankfully, that was all he said before walking out of the room. Your mother looked at you, panicked, before standing up and following her son to talk to him.

“Why have you done that?” You asked, sniffling your tears back when you eventually turned your head around to meet Benny’s gaze. He seemed to be confused why you reacted this way. “You have no idea for how long I have been defending you and…”

“Oh, thank you, doll,” he interrupted you and his voice was full of irony. “The tramp you defended turns out to be a bum? How shocking,” he commented and you spotted that awful sparkle in his eye that would often show up whenever he spoke of his father. But why was his anger aimed at you now?

“I didn’t mean to offend you…” your voice began to shake. “I just thought we were friends. You were nice to me.”

Benny sighed. He tilted his head as he examined your face and you just knew that he was thinking of you as naive.

“‘m sorry,” Benny mumbled out. “Didn’t want to make you sad. I just don’t like bein’ treated like your big brother treated me,” he explained.

“I know,” you calmed down immediately. “I’m sorry about him, too,” you assured him and glanced at the clock on the wall. “My daddy’s going to be home soon. I think it’s time for you to go now,” you told him and you were scared he would get angry again at that but he understood. Benny nodded and left the table. You followed him to walk him out.

“Tell your ma that the food was great, ‘kay? And apologise to her from me,” he asked while putting his shoes back on.

“Yeah, sure, Benny,” you nodded and hugged your own self. You didn’t want to say goodbye yet. “See you tomorrow at school.”

“See you,” Benny winked at you and squeezed your arm. “You’re a nice girl, doll. Thanks for everythin’,” he added before going out and those few words were enough to make your heart swell in your chest.

You watched him walk away with his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. You were sure he would go back to his place on foot while whistling some song he had heard on the radio earlier. That was his way.

When you went back to the dining room, your mother was already cleaning the plates.

“Benny’s just left. He wanted me to tell you that the food was great and he wanted to apologise for–” you started.

“Save it,” she interrupted you and looked up to meet your gaze. She was angry and you were taken aback by that. “It was the last time this boy was here, do you hear me?” She asked, harshly, but she gave you no time to answer. “I managed to beg Lucas to keep it a secret but he is not happy about it and I can’t blame him.”

“But mom, I am sure you could see that Benny is a nice boy. He only was rude when Lucas acted like a–”

“I said, save it,” your mother snapped and you shut your mouth immediately. “Help me with the dishes now, will you? Let’s not talk about it anymore.”

MASTERLIST

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. ii

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter

chapter summary: Joel tries, and fails, to keep Sarah away from you, and you get to know the family across the street a little bit better. It’s a slow burn, so let the yearning begin, baby! pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 7.7k chapter warnings: some light angst, alcohol use, references to marijuana use, parental neglect. divorce mention, implied age gap. reader has daddy issues - shocker! a/n: Was absolutely floored by the love on part one. Seriously you all are the best. I hate doing chapter summaries because I don't like giving away too much info, so I'd suggest just reading this. This story might end up being a longer than six parts, because I don't want to rush anything and it's been really fun to write these relationships as they form! Let me know what you think :)

-March 25th, 2003- 

Joel cannot keep Sarah away from you. 

Unfortunately, he can’t blame her. Unlike him, she doesn’t need an excuse to show up on your doorstep after school and on the weekends to be in your company. Still, he doesn’t technically know you that well, and he imagines you didn’t intend to see her as often as you did after extending some kindness to his family for one night. 

Despite the two of you having not spoken since you helped him with the Tommy situation, Joel feels like he knows you, or is getting to know you, just from the snippets of information Sarah drops to him, which is then followed by a barrage of questions.

“Do you know she grew up in New York City? Have you ever been there?” 

“She gave me her old tennis racket. Do you think I could start taking lessons?”

“She says her brother got her front-row tickets to The Strokes last year. You like them, don’t you?”

Joel decides to give Sarah a talking to about her tendency to wander over to your house whenever she sees your car in the driveway. Perhaps you are just being friendly, and feel bad saying no each time she’s asked to come in. He tries to broach the subject with her one morning in the kitchen while she’s eating breakfast. They’re already running behind, her for school, himself for work, but neither of them are in a rush. If you’re already late, what’s an extra ten minutes?

“Take it easy, alright? She might not want company after a long day at work,” Joel leans over the countertop, hand wrapped around a mug of hot coffee, watching her shovel cereal in her mouth.  

“Dad, she said I could come over whenever,” It’s accompanied by an eye roll, which is a new thing that had started about six months back. Teenagers. Well, almost teenagers. She’s still the sweet kid he’s always known, he’s just playing with fire trying to talk to her at seven in the morning, an indent on the side of her face still fading from where she slept on a crumpled pillow. 

Joel was at least grateful that she did have occasional company on nights when he was working late. It made him feel better to know Sarah wasn’t alone.

“What do you even do over there?”

“Homework, reading….watching TV.”

“So the same thing you do here?”

Sarah thinks about it. “Well, no, because she’s teaching me to knit.”

“And what does she do while you do your homework?”

“She works too. Or makes calls.” Sarah smiles a little. “It sounds like people ask her for advice a lot. She does give good advice.”

“Better than mine?” Joel holds his hand over his heart with mock offense.

Sarah groans. “Relax, don’t get jealous…there’s just stuff I can talk to her about and not you. Girl stuff.”

“Girl stuff? What like, boys?”

“No, you wouldn’t get it.”

“I was a boy once.”

“Ew, dad, gross.”

“How is that gross?”

“Just- not everything is about boys, okay?”

Joel isn’t going to argue with that, and Sarah eventually goes back to finishing her cereal.

“Alright babygirl,” he raps his knuckles on the counter after he’s finished his coffee. “I’ve gotta load up the truck, and you better get going, or I’m gonna get an earful from Miss Davis.” He grabs his keys and his wallet, then yanks a baseball cap over his mess of hair that’s long overdue for a haircut.

“Oh, I bet she would love an excuse to talk to you,” Sarah slides out of her seat with her empty bowl and marches towards the sink to rinse it out, grabbing his empty mug on the way.

“What do you mean?” 

“Don’t you remember how giggly she was at parent-teacher conferences?” Sarah says. “I’ve never seen her so happy before.”

It’s Joel’s turn to roll his eyes. He’d pegged it as unusual, but never considered it was because Miss Davis was into him. He wishes Sarah isn’t so….observant. 

Over the years, Joel has basically kept his head down, doing his best to keep things together. Because of that, he feels like he’s sort of lost his ability to pick up on when women are interested in him. And it’s safe to say, in general, he’s had a pretty uneventful love life since Sarah’s mom left. 

For the most part, he got by on flings — one night stands, casual no-strings-attached arrangements that always fizzled out. Joel had never been a man who liked that sort of thing, and ultimately craved a deeper level of intimacy, companionship, but he had trouble sustaining anything more. And even when he thinks of the more serious relationships he’d had over the years, those were also never completely satisfying. 

The fact of the matter was that when you had a kid, you weren’t just looking for someone for yourself anymore. For most people, introducing their partner to their parents is always a big deal. But for Joel, it was always introducing girlfriends to Sarah. Over the last decade he’d only ever introduced her to three different women, and at that point he had usually been dating them secretly for several months before deciding that it was serious enough. It always felt like he was trying so desperately to ensure they liked each other. But he could tell that Sarah was never quite comfortable with any of them. And when they’d start asking about moving in, marriage, and babies — he’d always panic. It was reasonable for them to want those things, hell, he wanted those things. But it had to be the right person. He knew he couldn’t bring someone into his life, forever, that didn’t love Sarah like a parent should. Like he did. No one ever would, and because of that, he knows there’s a good chance it’ll just be the two of them forever.

So, even if Sarah’s teacher, as cute as she was, were to ask him out, he would never be able to go. But less for the latter reasons, and more because he knows he’d never hear the end of it from her. 

“Alright, that’s enough. I’m leaving in five minutes…with or without you.”

“Nooo!” Sarah screams in mock panic, scrambling upstairs to brush her teeth. 

Joel exits through the garage, grabbing a few extra tools from his workbench that he needs for the job today and a saw. 

When he opens the garage door, the harsh sunlight is the first thing to greet him, and then he sees you. 

You’re in your driveway across the street, barefoot and in a short, black silk robe that’s cinched at the smallest part of your waist. Next to you is a man in a suit, holding a briefcase and trying to straighten his tie. He can’t do both at the same time, though, so he pauses and turns to you, murmurs something, and you slow to help him, your fingers wrapping around the tie, tightening where it’s looped around his neck and tucking it into place, straightening his lapel before stepping away. The type of domesticity that doesn’t happen with a one-night-stand.

It makes sense, he thinks. That you’re with someone like that. It’s the world you’re in all day. And even though he’s standing in his own fucking driveway, Joel feels like he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to. Or maybe, he just doesn’t want to be seeing it. 

Joel tears his eyes away, putting his stuff in the back of the truck – the toolkit, the saw, glancing over to see the man kiss you on the lips and mutter something unintelligible before getting in a shiny, blue sports car. You nod, offer an easy smile, and stoop to pick up the newspaper. The car's engine roars to life, and you cross your arms, looking after it until it peels out of the cul-de-sac.

The bashful smile you’re wearing drops instantly once it’s out of sight, and he watches you pinch the bridge of your nose, and tilt your head back to the sky.

He turns before he gets caught, and slams the back of the truck shut, which is a little ignorant in hindsight. Joel looks over his shoulder to see your attention has shifted, and you’re shielding your eyes and squinting at him. 

Great.

“Hey Joel,” you wave, your opposite hand pulling at the bottom of your robe, in a futile attempt to cover yourself. You look good, obviously, but it makes Joel feel a little guilty to make the observation because it’s clear you didn’t actually intend to be seen like this.

“Morning,” he answers. 

“Where’ve you been?” you ask, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“Busy. Work.”

“That’s no fun but…same here, I guess,” You shuffle forward hesitantly. 

Joel takes a beat to think about what he’s supposed to say in response, but doesn’t get the chance, because you speak up again.

“Hey uh, not to put you on the spot, but were you actually serious about fixing my step the other night?” you ask. 

Before he can answer, you continue. 

“It’s okay if you weren’t, but I twisted my ankle on it the other day, so I need to get it fixed before that happens to someone else. I was thinking maybe I’d just call-”

“No-”

“It’s no big deal if you can’t-”

“No,” Joel cuts you off. He had been biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity to bring it up to you, not realizing that taking said time probably made him look like an asshole. “Don’t call anyone else, I can do it. How about Friday night? Will you be around?” 

“Friday?” you answer, pondering. “Yeah, that works. I have a friend from out of town coming to visit, so I’ll be home early because I’ve gotta pick her up from the airport.” 

“Alright, I’ll try to cut out early, too.”

“And also I can pay-”

“Stop it, I”ve got you, don’t worry,” he waves his hand. 

You smile at Joel. He’s sure it means nothing, but he gets some satisfaction from how sincere it is compared to the one you’d given the guy you had been escorting out of your home. 

He feels himself grinning back, and you open your mouth to speak, but are cut off by the sound of his screen door slamming. Sarah stumbles down the steps, backpack hanging off one shoulder, headphones to her walkman around her ears, holding her bright pink windbreaker in one hand and a book in the other. She looks at Joel, then you, standing in your driveway, and her face lights up as she calls your name. 

“Hey, Sarah,” you wave. 

Sarah opens her mouth to speak, and Joel knows whatever she’s going to say will start a much longer conversation that unfortunately they just don’t have the time for.

“She’s gotta get to school,” Joel tilts his head in the direction of his daughter before she can say anything. “But I’ll get that done Friday.”

“See you then!” You turn on your heel, and he looks away for a second to Sarah before glancing back in your direction, and you’re already gone, the only evidence you were there being your front door slamming shut. 

Joel waits until he and Sarah are in the car on their way to school before he speaks again. 

“She’s never mentioned a boyfriend or anything, has she?”

Sarah doesn’t even look up from her book. “No.”

Joel nods, and it’s quiet for a moment.

He hears Sarah’s book shut. “Why?” she turns to him, and she’s got her eyes narrowed, like she’s trying to figure out what the question really meant. He’s never seen her make that face before, and it’s a little terrifying, because it looks like she could see right through him.

Joel wracks his brain for a good enough excuse. “If she has people over, I don’t want you hangin’ around adults I don’t know.”

That seems to satisfy Sarah, and the skeptical look on her face disappears. If anything, she seems slightly annoyed by the comment, which is definitely preferable. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that because it’s never happened.” Sarah plays with the dials on the radio, changing the station until it lands on one playing The Chicks, her favorite group. She hums along to the song, filling in the gaps whenever the radio cuts out, and looks out the window. 

“Alright.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-March 28th, 2003-

“Oh, I wanna come!” Sarah jumps up from the couch and joins Joel in the entryway. It’s Friday evening, and he’s about to head out the door to your place.

“You’re stayin’ in tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“Well first of all, you’re grounded, in case you don’t remember.”

“You don’t even know what that means, though.”

Joel shakes his head, because she’s right. He’s never had to ground Sarah before, but when he’d gotten a call from her teacher that she had failed her last math quiz, and was close to not passing the class, he figured it was an appropriate punishment. “I’m pretty sure it means you can’t leave the house.”

“But this is barely leaving the h-”

“Second of all,” he cuts her off. “She told me earlier this week she’s got a friend visiting, so it’d be rude to intrude if that’s the case.”

Sarah groans, throws her head back, and falls onto the couch dramatically. “But I’m so bored.”

“You could study. Practice dribbling, clean your room, clean your bathroom-”

“Dad, it’s literally Friday night.”

“And?”

“All that stuff is so boring.”

Joel can’t help but chuckle. “Look, when I get back we can watch a movie. This won’t take long.”

She sits up a little, placated. “Okay, but it’s my turn to pick.”

“Deal. I’ll be home in an hour or so,” he steps out onto the porch. 

There’s a special kind of glow in Texas about an hour before the sun sets. Warm light filters behind the trees, casting the leaves and anything else it catches in a golden halo. Joel takes in the view for a moment as he walks across the street, skipping the rotten step and knocking on your front door. 

You answer it quickly. “Hey, you wanna come in?”

Joel supposes he doesn’t have to, and could just let you know he’s here, stay out on the front porch and just get the job done, but he accepts your invitation anyway.

There’s another woman sitting cross-legged on the couch, two half-full glasses of wine on your coffee table, music playing low on some speakers in the corner. The front windows are open, despite the chill of the evening, and your sheer curtains billow in the breeze. 

“Claire, this is my neighbor, Joel,” you say. “He’s helping me out with the steps. His daughter’s Sarah, the one I was telling you about. ”

“Oh, yeah.” Claire’s face lights up in recognition. “Joel. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he nods.

“Claire’s visiting from New York. We grew up together,” you explain. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Her and I were roommates at boarding school,” Claire explains, finishing off a glass of wine. “We got into a lot of trouble together.”

“Hmmm, if I recall, it was more like you got me into trouble, but sure,” you say. 

“You were bad, if not worse, than I was.”

Joel smirks, and you turn to him, changing the subject. “She’s jetlagged, so we’re just staying in for the night.”

“But…we’re still getting drunk, obviously.”

“Oh yeah, that too,” you say flatly, although to Joel, you don’t seem drunk at all. Luckily, your friend answers his question with her next sentence.

“This one isn’t very good at keeping up, though,” Claire tilts her head in your direction, then finishes off the glass of wine in her hand.

“You sound like Vincent,” you roll your eyes.

“Oh, how is Vincent?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you cross your arms and look at Joel. “She always had the biggest crush on my brother, and it was dis-gus-ting.”

“To be fair,” Claire clears her throat. “At the time, he was pretty dreamy. And if we’re being honest….he still is…too bad he’s married.”

“Divorced, actually. But still…” You wrinkle your nose. “Gross.”

“Divorced?” Claire sits up, jaw dropping. “When? Why didn’t you tell me? What happened?”

You raise your hands and shake your head, like it’s too much to get into. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it later. Sorry, we’re being rude,” you turn back to Joel. “Can I get you anything? Want some wine?”

“I would, but it doesn’t usually mix well with power tools,” Joel answers. “I should be good, though, I brought everything I need.”

“Great well… I’ll let you get to it, then.” you pad across the floor to return to your friend on the couch. “We’ll be in here if you need anything.”

“Sounds good,” Joel nods at you and your friend before stepping back out onto the porch.

The screen door shuts behind him, and the birds are quieting down for the night. He only has a little bit of sunlight left, but this shouldn’t take him long. Just as he is about to get started, he hears your friend’s voice, muffled, from inside the house. 

“Okay, I thought you were lying because your taste in men is usually questionable, but you’re right, he is really cute.”

“Dude,” you interject, and Joel hears a sound of impact, like a smack on the arm. “Lower your voice the fucking windows are open.” Claire starts giggling, and you continue. “You know you don’t have to say, like, every thought that comes into your head.”

He hears your friend laugh even harder, and eventually you join her. Joel shakes his head, but even after he starts working, can’t keep the grin off his face.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-April 5th, 2003-

It has been the longest week of your life. Work had been hectic – you’d spent the last five days going to so many meetings and dinners with potential clients that you had almost no time to do your actual job. Plus, your visit from Claire had already wiped out nearly all your energy, since you had spent the whole last weekend showing her around Austin, entertaining.

Normally, on a Saturday like today, you’d do a number of things – the first of which would be to sleep the fuck in. The ideal schedule would go something like this: You’d get out of bed in the early afternoon and immediately order some kind of takeout – most likely pho, or ramen, or some other type of soup. You’d get high, eat the takeout, and then watch TV until you’re tired enough to go back to bed in the early evening. If you’re feeling motivated at all, you might change into a fresh pair of pajamas before you crash again. It would be the ultimate lazy day, and you had desperately wanted it.

However, the past version of yourself had made plans to play tennis in the morning with some friends, and then check out a new breakfast place in the city. Sometimes you hated how optimistic she was about your ability to wake up before 10 a.m. While you weren’t excited to play tennis, you were excited that there was, at some point, going to be food involved. 

So you dragged your ass out of bed, rifled through a box of clothing in your garage (one that you still had yet to unpack) to find a tennis skirt and visor, and then got in your car to go play all before 8 a.m. Then, you’d had your ass handed to you by your friends on the court. It was a little humbling to realize that you weren’t very good at tennis anymore. The last time you’d seriously played was when you were still in school, and you’d originally started because your father had wanted you to be involved in an extracurricular activity. According to him at the time, anything involving the arts – music, dance, drama – didn’t count. You had challenged this idea, and it had escalated to become one of the top ten worst fights you’d ever had with him. After that, you had learned that it was better to just do as you were told. 

You’d joined the tennis team, and started to pick up on how intrigued your father was by the trophies and ribbons you’d bring home when you did well. He started to ask you questions when he saw them, pat you on the head and say things like ‘that’s my girl’. Regardless of whether or not you liked playing, you had finally found a way to earn his attention. So, you got better. One time, he even came to your school to watch one of your matches. Of course, when you lost that one, it all kind of crumbled. But you still stuck to the sport since that’s what all your friends were doing, even if it didn't get you what you wanted. 

On the drive home from your morning out, belly full of breakfast and ready for a nap, thinking of your family brings about a terrifying realization. 

You look at your phone. Shit.

April 5th. 

Immediately, you dial a number on your cell. You’re aware of the dangers of talking while driving but you know if you don’t make this call, you’ll never hear the end of it. The line only rings twice before it’s picked up.

“Hello?” 

“Vincenzo!” you say with your best – but probably horrible – attempt at an Italian accent. 

“Well, well, well….if it isn’t the estranged daughter…” the familiar timbre of your brother's voice answers. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

You roll your eyes. “Well first of all, fuck off…” We're off to a great start. “...and second of all…Happy Birthday.”

You hear your brother’s chuckle on the other end of the line, a noise that you’d been on the wrong side of –  laughing at you, not with you – more than once, but your heart aches a little at the sound of it now. I miss you, you wish you could say, but you keep it to yourself. 

“Thanks, I’m surprised you remembered,” he says, lightly.

“I’ve never forgotten.”

“There was that one year-”

“Oh my god, I was like twelve.”

“You were fourteen.”

“Okay, well, sorry…It’s been over ten years and it hasn’t happened since.”

“It feels like you’ve forgotten more than once, but that might just be because it’s pretty much the only time you ever call me these days,” Vincent says, and if you were with him, in person, you’d be able to tell by the look in his eyes whether or not he was joking. But over a cell, you’re not sure at all. 

“That’s not true,” you say, turning your car into your neighborhood. “But I mean, the phone does work both ways.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you catch something flippant in his tone. 

“Do you want this to be a nice conversation or are you gonna be an asshole?” you ask, maybe a little too matter-of-factly, but at least you can determine whether or not it’ll be a waste of your time to try and be cordial. If he’s in a bad mood, you know it’s pointless.

“Relax,” he says, and you hear a hint of the teenage boy you once knew. “You’re always so ready to argue with me, I’m joking.”

“Very funny,” you say, and try to be nice about it, because deep down, you know Vincent is right. You don’t talk to your brother enough to argue with him when you do speak. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. “So what are you doing on your big day? Anything special?”

“Nothing really special, I worked out, had lunch with a friend, and I think I’m having dinner with Elizabeth tonight.”

“Oh…really? Elizabeth?” At the mention of his soon-to-be ex-wife – or maybe current ex-wife? You’re not sure – you’re surprised.

“Yeah she and I are uh….talking still, I guess. For Ethan, mostly, but…I don’t know…the divorce isn’t finalized, and I think now that I’m seeing a therapist and shit, maybe we can work something out. We’ll see.”

“And do you want to work something out?”

“I mean, she’s only the love of my life so yeah, it’d be great.”

“I think so, too. How is Ethan, by the way?”

“Oh he’s great,” you hear your brother’s smile over the phone. “Just a big ball of energy, and so fucking smart. He told me he misses you the other day.”

Your heart lurches at the mention of your sweet, five-year-old nephew. “You’ll have to tell him I said hi, and that I love him.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will,” he answers. “You know, next weekend I’m having a proper birthday party.  We’re all going to the Hamptons. I could fly you out here, you could tell him in person.”

“I can’t, I got shit to do,” you answer a little too quickly, turning the car into your cul-de-sac.

“What uh, your little corporate gig keeping you busy?”

There’s a subtle dig in there, little. 

“Maybe.”

“I’m telling you, all I have to do is phone a friend, and we’ll find you something here that’ll pay a thousand times better and won’t have you working weekends.”

“I don’t work weekends,” you say, pulling into your driveway.  “And I’m not interested.”

“You like making yourself miserable, don’t you?”

“Vinny,” you say, exasperated, putting your car in park. “I’m happy here.”

“In Texas? I don’t believe it,” he says. “And you know, at this point, you’ve proven whatever you wanted to dad. After everything you’ve done, he probably respects you. Like, you did it. You cut yourself off, you made a name for yourself, you don’t need us anymore. Congratulations, amazing. I get it. But you should come home now.”

“Vincent,” you repeat yourself. “I’m not going back. You know what it was like for me. For you.”

“You’re my fucking family too, you know? You can’t just let him control every decision you make,” he says, and he’s not quite yelling at you, but he is sounding a lot more stern than he was before. “And by the way, it wasn’t so bad. You and I always got along.”

“Even if I move back, things will never be like they were.”

“You don’t know that.” he says it with such a deep sadness in his voice that you want to take back every cruel thing you’d ever said to him – not just from today, from forever. And then he speaks again. “You know, you used to be so sweet when we were kids….I don’t know what happened.”

I do, you think. “I had to look out for myself.”

Before he can respond, you change the subject. “Anyways, you should move out here instead,” it’s only halfway a joke.

“I’m not leaving New York.”

“Well, I’m not leaving Austin.”

“Well…” he says, clicks his tongue. “Then I guess things’ll just stay this way.” 

“I guess so.”

You wish you could offer more. But he has never understood. The silence on the other line is so loud, your ears are ringing.

“Look, I just pulled in my driveway, I gotta get going.”

“Yeah.”

“But have a nice day, okay?” you’ve gotta turn this conversation around because it went so far off the rails. “Tell Elizabeth I say hi, and I hope you do work things out with her because you know I think she’s great. And give Ethan a kiss for me.”

“I know, and I will,” you can see him closing his eyes, fingers pinching between his eyebrows.

“I love you.” 

“Yeah…okay,” he says, like he doesn’t believe you, and it’s a punch to the gut. As usual, you weren’t able to say the right thing. Tears start pricking the back of your eyes, guilt twisting deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Goodbye,” in one swift movement, you end the call and get out of the car, slamming the door shut. You’re sad now, but it’s only a matter of time before you become angry, which is always easier to deal with, so you just gotta suck it up until it passes.

Trying not to be upset is such a high priority that you don’t hear your name being called right away, and when you turn around, it’s too late.

“Hey!” Sarah Miller is skidding to a stop in front of you, wearing boots that look a size too small for her feet, dressed in athletic clothes with her hair pulled back. “My dad says I’m not grounded anymore so I can-” she falters when she sees your face. “Are you okay?” she asks. 

Clearing your throat, you fix your expression and try to shake away the lingering disappointment like dirt off a kitchen rug. “Yeah I’m fine,” you lie. “So does that mean you passed math?”

Since that night you let her stay when she was locked out, you’d seen quite a bit of Sarah. It was a little unconventional, and you probably needed to find friends in the community that were more age appropriate, but you enjoyed her company. She would hang out and do homework at your house while she waited for her dad to get home from work. You had always valued your independence, and told yourself you preferred to be on your own, but whenever she left, your house always felt a little emptier than you remembered. Maybe you needed to get a fish or something, since Martini’s appearances were few and far between. 

“Not yet, but I did get an A on my last test. I hate to say it but my dad was right…studying actually helps.”

“Yeah, that tends to be true,” you say, relieved at how easy the smile comes, and you glance over your shoulder to see Joel standing at the edge of his driveway with his hands on his hips. He looks fucking good, and you’re almost sort of mad about it, or it’s hopefully just the irritation kicking in after the conversation with your brother. 

Does Joel know? He has to. It’s like having whatever the male version of a siren is living across the street from you – working with his hands, being a doting father, and mowing the lawn shirtless when it’s hot out. And apparently this was a record-breakingly hot spring, because you’d seen that more than once. Not that you minded, though it only made you want a closer look. Years ago, you probably would’ve scoffed at what sounded like a suburban mom’s wet dream, but actually experiencing it, you felt differently. There was just something about him. 

You give Joel a wave, and he waves back, shifting his weight from foot to foot like he’s trying to decide if he wants to come over and talk. As usual, he seems like he’s got somewhere to be, but he’s too polite to tell you to fuck off. 

“How have you been? I’ve hardly seen you,” Sarah says. “Did you play tennis today?” she pokes at the racket that’s hung over your shoulder. “Were you serious about teachin’ me to play this summer?”

It’s hard not to be amused at the barrage of requests. You admire her ability to be so enthusiastic, so open, something that most people are unable to do, but for her, is effortless. She’s older than your nephew, but you get the same kind of relief from interacting with both of them. The kids are alright. At least, some of them are. 

“Of course,” you answer, and notice that Joel is slowly and hesitantly making his way up your driveway. It’s upsetting that everytime you run into him, you conveniently look like shit – like last Tuesday when you’d just rolled out of bed and were still in your robe. Or right now, after spending the whole morning chasing after balls on a clay court, scuffed knees and hair slick with sweat. But you suppose that’s sort of what neighbors are for.

“Hey, how’s it going?” you ask Joel. 

“It’s goin’,” you take him in as he gets closer, notice the way the arms of his t-shirt are just a little too tight because of his biceps, and feel like you need to take a cold shower to wash yourself of this morning. “Babygirl, we should probably get going.”

He calls his daughter babygirl? There’s no way he was being serious, that it isn’t some ironic joke, or part of an act. You always assumed that was just something you saw in movies.

“Because I did so well on my test my dad is takin’ me on a hike,” Sarah says, and then her face lights up. “Wait….you should come with us! Dad, can she come?” Sarah whirls around to face her father.

Joel looks down at Sarah, and then up at you, and then at Sarah again. “I mean, that’s fine, but…she might have other things going on.” 

It’s hard to tell if he’s trying to give you an out, or if he’s hinting that you shouldn’t come. And you probably normally wouldn’t want to go, but the alternative is moping around your house and thinking of all the things you could’ve said differently to your brother to ensure the conversation would have gone better than it did. You’re always desperate for a second chance to do things over, and do them right. 

You look between the two of them, back and forth. “I mean I would totally, I just…don’t want to interrupt a father-daughter activity-”

“You aren’t,” Sarah says so quickly that Joel looks offended. “I couldn’t leave the house this week so we’ve been spending too much time together.”

Joel frowns. “That’s rude.”

“What?” she says. “It’s true.”

Joel sighs. “She’s right, though. You wouldn’t be interruptin’.”

“Please?” Sarah begs, and you realize you can’t say no even if you want to. You wonder how Joel was even able to ground her for a week, looking in those big, innocent eyes. 

“Yeah, just…uh, could I put my stuff inside and maybe change?” you ask, gesturing towards the house. 

Joel nods, and Sarah rocks back and forth on her heels. “Yes, yes! Take as long as you need.”

“I’ll be fast,” you assure her, and duck inside. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halfway into the hike with Sarah and Joel, and you’ve decided you’re out of shape. You try to tell yourself there could be another reason you are so out of breath – you already worked out once today while playing tennis. But that doesn’t seem like a good enough excuse. Of course, you’re trying to play it cool, because you’re not about to embarrass yourself. Sarah is entertaining you with all kinds of talk about school, and soccer, and sleepaway camp she gets to go to for two weeks once school's out. And you suppose the pain you’re in right now is also  welcome distraction from thinking about Vincent. 

However, you can’t dip away from the group to rest for a second, because Joel is already trailing behind, and he’d catch on. However, his distance – several paces back from where you and Sarah walk – is not because he’s out of shape. On the contrary, he seems to be putting almost no effort into the steep climb. He’s on his own, head on a swivel, kind of like a brooding security guard, and you wonder if he feels left out. 

You steal a glance over your shoulder to take him in, shrouded by the verdant foliage. He looks at home in this environment, sun-kissed and rugged, a finger hooked behind the strap of a leather bag he carries over one shoulder, his gait measured. Aloof, but there’s a quiet confidence to him that draws you in, causes your stare to linger just a touch too long, so when he turns his head straight, his eyes catch yours. You focus back on the trail ahead. 

He hasn’t said much since you’ve started hiking, or in the car, even. Most men are easy to read, but so far, Joel has kind of stumped you. There were times, during the night that you’d helped him bail his brother Tommy out of jail, that you had thought maybe he was- no. He’d been pretty tense in every other interaction you had, so you still couldn’t decide if he had been flirting with you.

And he was older than you, you were pretty sure. Not so old that it wouldn’t be out of the question for him to be interested, but enough that, depending on the type of person he was, might see you as a little too young for him. And he had a kid, responsibilities. 

You were a-single woman with a high-powered career, one cat and a fish on the way. You slept in on the weekends, refused to learn to cook for one, and got violently stoned on your back porch a minimum of three times a week. In suburban Texas, most of the women your age were long since settled, and you were an outlier. It was fair to imagine that Joel probably didn’t see any real promising future when he looked your way…. or maybe he was more of a one-night stand kind of guy, and didn’t care about that at all. This was not necessarily information you needed – but you wanted it anyway.

Not feeling like an outsider would be one upside of moving back to New York – you could be exactly yourself, and still blend right in. It was one of the parts you missed most, besides Vincent. Your heart sinks, and you realize that the hill you’ve been climbing has flattened out, and so you’re able to think clearly again, which is why you’re thinking of your brother. 

Sarah has pulled away, and is wandering towards a clearing. Your eyes are on her form, bounding up ahead on the pathway, the sunlight peeking through the leaves dancing on her skin, when your foot lands on a loose rock, and slips out from beneath you. 

Please, God, n- You don’t even get the chance to plead yourself out of humiliation, because there’s a steady hand on your hip and your back collides with a broad chest. 

“Gotcha,” Joel’s voice is right in your ear — when did he get that close?  

He’s solid, strong, and for the shortest, sweetest moment, you’re overwhelmed by him – get notes of his bar soap (pine, cedar, mint)  mixed with whatever laundry detergent he used, and just the faintest bit of - Fuck. In one swift movement, he brings you upright like you’d never slipped at all, then pulls back. The skin on your hip smarts even after his hand drops away.

“You alright?” Joel steps beside you, watching Sarah, who stands with her hands on her hips, her back turned to you both.

“Yeah,” you nod. He looks back over at you. “Come on,’ he tilts his head towards his daughter, and you walk beside him to where she’s standing.

The whole hike you’d been so occupied with bullshit. Trying not to think about your brother. Trying not to act too out of breath. Trying to not let Joel catch you staring, although you’d already failed at that. But now, you wish you wouldn’t have been in your head, because what you’d come to see made worrying about all that seem stupid.

Stretched out in front of you was a wide creek with moss-colored water that flowed down over layered slabs of rock, and crashed into the waterfall’s churning basin. The sun hits the mist in just the right light, and casts a series of rainbows midair, which move and shift as you turn your head to study the lush, tree-lined shore across the river. 

You’re standing with one hand on your hip, and out of the corner of your eye Sarah shuffles back a few steps to stand beside you, looping her arm through yours, her cheek on your shoulder while you both enjoy the view. 

“I’m glad you got to see this,” she says, and you can just make it out over the sound of the falls. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s beautiful.”

Joel’s hands land on Sarah’s shoulders as he steps close behind you both. She straightens, leans back against him until he wraps his forearm across the front of her in an easy embrace, and she grabs for his wrist with both of her hands, tucking them beneath her chin. A pang of familiar grief stirs inside you at the sight, and you turn away, back towards the view.

“This is the only time of year it’s worth seeing,'' Joel says to you. “It dries up in the summer.” 

“It’s still pretty in the summer,” Sarah pipes up.

“Not as pretty.”

“Can you get me the water?” she asks. Joel grunts an affirmation and a moment later you hear the sound of a zipper.

When you’ve had a considerable amount of time to contemplate life while looking at the water swirling across the granite, you turn to find Sarah sitting on a rock, struggling to peel an orange, and dropping each tiny piece of skin she can get off into Joel’s begrudgingly outstretched hand.

You use the opportunity to stretch your calves against a nearby tree.

“Have you hiked before?” Sarah asks.

“Here and there,” you say. “But not often.”

“Why not?”

“Well this is basically a workout. I don’t like working out, I’m pretty unathletic.”

You’re surprised when that draws a smile from Joel.

“But you play tennis.”

You shrug. “Eh, kinda.”

“Me and my dad go hiking a lot.”

“That’s sweet,” your eyes flicker from hers to Joel’s, because they are both staring at you, and you’re pretty sure, though it’s hard to tell from this distance, that their eyes are the identical shade of caramel. Sarah finishes peeling her orange and Joel pockets the scraps of skin. She eats a slice before offering you both your own, and you step closer to accept it.

Sarah’s taking her last bite of orange when Joel speaks up. 

“Should we head back?”

Sarah turns to take one last look. It’s mid afternoon, the slant of light from the sun as intense as it can be, and you squint when it reflects back off the water and into your eyes. 

“Yeah, we can,” Sarah decides, and it’s clear that Joel would have stayed there for as long as she wanted. It wasn’t up to him. 

The hike back isn’t nearly as difficult. It’s all downhill, and Joel leads. Sarah stays behind with you, and clings to your arm while she teaches you how to navigate the trail without slipping. Back at the trailhead is one steep step that drops off into a puddle of stagnant water. 

Joel jumps down first, and turns to offer his hand to Sarah, who takes it and leaps lightly, landing on two feet on the other side. You aren’t sure what you’re expecting, but it’s not for Joel to offer you his hand to you as well. But he does.

“Careful,” he murmurs. And of course, you could’ve easily done this yourself, with no help. It’s a two foot drop and an inch of water. But you accept it anyways, putting some of your weight against his hand as you hop down, noticing how he doesn’t waver.

By the time you’re long since settled in the car, pulling into Joel’s driveway, you can feel sleep tugging down your eyelids. A steaming shower and a pair of pajama pants is imminent, and it’s like your body knows. Surely, you will still probably feel guilty about your brother, but you’re convinced that you won’t lose sleep over it, which you consider a win.

Sarah, who insisted that you both sit in the back together on the way home – leaving Joel in the front alone – gives you a quick hug after you’ve gotten out of the car, and then plucks the car keys from her father.

“Sorry, I drank a lot of water and I have to pee!” she says, before jogging up the walkway and unlocking her front door. 

Joel lets out an exasperated sigh, but turns back look at you with startling warmth. 

“Thanks for having me, I really needed that,” you tell him, and you’re not sure why you feel compelled to be honest with him, but continue on. “My brother and I got into it on the phone this morning, so if I didn’t go I probably would’ve spent all afternoon moping in bed.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice soft. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” you say, quickly, brushing it off. “Siblings, you know?”

“Yeah,” he nods, but you can tell he isn’t convinced. “I know.”

“How’s Tommy, by the way?” you ask. “Staying out of trouble, I hope?”

“He is,” Joel answers. “We actually have a big project we might be about to book. Pays well, and will keep us employed for the next year.”

“Oh that’s exciting,” you nod. “So what I’m hearing  is…if my step rots again, you wouldn’t have time to come fix it?”

“No,” Joel chuckles again, and you’re dizzy after hearing it. “I’d make time.”

You take a deep breath. “Good to know,” you shuffle a few steps backwards. “I better get going, though.” He doesn’t answer right away, and just as you’re turning to walk across the street, Joel calls out to you again.

“Hey,” and you pause, facing him again. “I wanted to ask you if…” he hesitates, blinks and shakes his head once before continuing. “If Sarah is coming over too much. If you want, I can tell her to cool it.”

“Are you kidding?” you ask. “I don’t mind at all. She’s great company, really.”

“You sure you’re not just sayin’ that to be nice?”

You sniff, look at the ground, then back up to him. “I’m not actually very nice.”

He studies you. “I’m not sure I believe that.” 

“You hardly know me,” you shrug, and his eyebrows pinch together very briefly before his expression neutralizes. “I’m just saying….if I didn’t like having her around, you would know.”

He bobs his head slowly, and you turn back around to walk to your house, glancing at him from over your shoulder. 

“I’ll see you around.”

- - - - - - - - - -

taglist: @yaskna @venomous-ko @lomljigg @yeehawbitchs @ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done @melancholicmelanin @reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer @superflymaterial @mikkorantanev @zbeez-outlet (i'm sorry if i missed anyone, i didn't tag anyone that didn't explicitly ask!).

part iii

[lehnsherrrr]

Been reading cherik fics and here are

My cherik ao3 recommendations!!!

First and foremost, I have the most high stakes GUT WRENCHING torture pron slow burn fic you will EVER READ.

Charles is a pilot on a spaceship, and things go to SHIT. Very long, very good, so fucking good. One of those fics where they don’t even acknowledge that they like eachother until like 12 whole chapters in, AS IT SHOULD BE.

If you like it when Erik uses his powers on Charles, or when Charles is weak and beaten down, you’ll love this very very much.

Big warning for non-consensual…situations…. BUT ITS SO BEAUTIFUL

It’s called “The stars incline us, they do not bind us” by Ikeracity and Pangea.

I even made an entire Spotify playlist

I literally spent an entire 3 days non stop (literally until like 5am every night) reading this, it was constant. I did nothing else. I read it during summer and so I literally had nothing else to do. I can’t even remember anything else, I was so freaking immersed.

SECOND,

A fic I read immediately after the last one. LONGER, SLOWER, but wayyy more wholesome, it’s just fucking lovely. But not TOO lovely, there are high stakes, it made me BLUUSSHHHHHH, oh my LAWDDDDD.

Charles has been hired as a tutor for Erik’s daughter. I’m pretty sure it’s based in like the 1890s-1920s but I don’t think it tells you specifically, it’s old anyway.

ALSO, Charles has a cane in this, I also have a cane, made me very happy.

It’s nice to see Charles as a respectable adult man while also feeling like a crushing teenager on the inside, absolutely epic amazeballs.

It’s called “Wrap me up, unfold me” by hllfire

THIRD,

Shorter than the previous, still a whole 13 chapters tho.

Listen, come in real close, I won’t lie, I like it when Erik roughs Charles up a lil, BUT AY, YOU DIDNT HEAR THAT FROM ME.

Charles is kidnapped and taken to the camp of the brotherhood, which Erik leads, but Erik WANTS HIMMMMMM

HEHEHEHE

It’s cute, wished their feud had lasted a little longer but it was still an amazing read.

It’s called “Power and Control” by FuryRed

FOURTH,

Still in the making, only 4 chapters rn but it’s gonna get so good I promise.

Do you like it when Charles and Erik fight with their powers? When the enemies in enemies to lovers means something? HELL YEAH MY DUDE, this is for you.

Charles is the villain now, and Erik has been sent to stop him in exchange for Shaw (meaning he will stop at nothing) but he fails to realise how damn powerful this brat is.

Fighting, leather, masks, high stakes, flirting while fighting, tension, ITS GOT IT ALLLLL

It’s called “Echoes of control” by…

Uh oh, it’s by me….

I BEG PLZ READ IM SORRY IT ONLY HAS 4 CHAPTERS, THERES MORE COMING IM JUST MOVING HOUSE PLZZZZ

Hehe that’ll do it, I’m so good at advertising

Anyway!!!

I BEG you, if you have any fic recommendations that include the sort of things I’ve talked about here, PLEASE GIVE THEM TO MEEEEEEE.

Thanks for reading :3

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 5

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

I did it. I made the masterlist and started my playlist as well. They'll be linked at the beginning of every chapter, I'll add them to the old ones as well.

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 1.9k+

You knew that you were good at your job but hearing someone not only tell you that but how you made them feel… your heart was soaring. You studied Bradley’s handsome face. You loved everything you saw, his puppy dog brown eyes, faded scars on his cheek, and a perfectly groomed mustache.

“I don’t know if you quite understand how much that means to me,” You inhaled slowly, “I see a lot of people who don’t get better.”

He squeezed your hand gently, stroking his thumb along the back, “I cannot even imagine what it’s like.”

“I don’t…” You stuttered, “... nevermind. Whatever, it’s not important.”

Bradley sat up quickly, “It is important. What you have to say is important.”

You signed, “I’m just burnt out. I thought that travel nursing, having a change of scenery every contract and the larger paychecks, would help with the feelings of overwhelming exhaustion… from caring for people who will never get better. But it hasn’t.”

“How long is your contract here?” He asked.

“Four more weeks but I’ve already been asked if I want to extend, they’re so understaffed… And I really love San Diego,” You explained, “So I’ll probably do it. But… I just don’t know how much longer I can do it.”

He nodded, selfishly so pleased that she wanted to stay here. “What about another unit? Another kind of nursing?”

You smiled weakly, “I’ve thought about it, I’ve thought maybe now would be the time to pivot towards the kind of nursing I actually want to do.”

“Which is?” He asked, tugging a little at the hand that was still in his, just beckoning for you to scoot closer.

You obliged but couldn’t look him in the eyes, “I wanna deliver babies.”

Bradley’s eyes lit up, “You would be incredible.”

Usually when you told people about your aspirations to go into labor and delivery, they’d say something like, “Isn’t that too big of a 180 from what you’re used to doing?” or “Good luck getting into that specialty.” Nobody ever unquestionably validated your desires.

“Yeah but those jobs are so hard to come by,” You shrugged, “They’ll never hire me.”

“So you’re telling me… that you… the nurse who had me extubated and breathing on my own before noon on the first day she met me, couldn’t get her dream job? Fucking nonsense.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and shook you gently.

You laughed nervously, mostly because you liked the feeling of having both his hands on you. “I mean…”

“Get up and get your laptop.” He demanded, “We’re looking for jobs.”

You blinked at him in disbelief.

He smirked, “It’s an order, Y/N.”

Bradley came back to your couch with another bottle of wine in hand, “Some liquid courage.”

You slid your glass across the coffee table towards him, “No applications are being sent under the influence, just looking.”

He sat down next to you, uncorking the bottle with ease and filled your glass, “Fine but I’m gonna be checking back in with you.”

“How?” You asked sassily, “You don’t even have my number, Bradshaw.”

“Well… I do know where you live but I’d rather be less of a fucking creep and just have you put your number in my phone.”

You held out your hand, “Cough it up, Chicken man.”

He rolled his eyes and handed you his phone, “It’s Rooster, Sassy pants.”

You started putting your information in his phone, “Should I put myself in as ‘Nurse Y/N?” 

Bradley laughed, “I mean you can, but I think we’re past the point of you just being my nurse.”

You raised your eyebrow, “Is that so?” 

“I mean… have you ever invited a patient into your apartment for a bottle of wine?” He asked. 

“I guess not,” you shifted in your seat and finished entering your info with just your name.

Bradley studied it when he took back his phone, “You might want to add a little heart in there… for good measure.” He handed the phone back and winked. Good god, he was so bold. It was so hot.

Your cheeks flushed but you did as you were told, adding a pink heart emoji next to your name.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Bradley…” Y/N said softly after they had polished off their second bottle of wine.

“What’s got you worried?” Rooster asked, he could hear the concern in her voice.

“I…” she searched carefully for her words, “I’m not sure that you should drive home…”

He chuckled, “Trying to get me in bed already?”

Her cheeks flushed again, bright red. It was the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his life. “That’s not what I was getting at, Bradshaw! Get your mind outta the gutter!”

“Uh huh, sureeeeeeee!” He teased.

“If you have to know,” she explained, “I don’t think you should drive home because we’ve been drinking a lot. And the last thing I want is your ass back in my ICU.”

Bradley loved that she cared so much and was still a little silly about it, “I don’t drink and drive. I promise you that.”

She nodded, “Good because I’d respect you a hell of a lot less.”

“Let’s do this,” he proposed, “I’ll grab an Uber home, sleep off this wine, and then when I come to get my car in the morning, I’ll take you to brunch?”

A smile spread across her face, “I really like that idea.”

Rooster had never been so excited for a hungover Sunday morning in his life. He rarely drank wine, so he woke up with quite the headache but didn’t even care. Leaving Y/N’s apartment was uneventful, in all honesty. He didn't want to kiss her until she made it clear that she desperately wanted it. Yes, they were clearly into each other. But this wasn’t the type of girl he wanted to push too far too quickly, no matter how badly he wanted to taste her sweet lips. 

After showering off the hangover and making sure he smelled fresh, he changed into his usual civilian uniform. Jeans, a white undershirt, a Hawaiian shirt on top, and a pair of aviator sunglasses. Before leaving his bungalow, he checked himself in the mirror at least 15 times. Did he have anything in his teeth? Did his hair look stupid cuz it was still a little wet?

“Get it together, Bradshaw!” He muttered to himself.

He ordered his Uber and directs it right to the parking spot where he left his car in the back of your building. He quickly got in and headed towards the front. Deciding on music felt too time consuming, he just wanted to get to Y/N’s as soon as possible. When he pulled up to the front, he saw Y/N patiently waiting on a bench. Her legs were crossed, she intently stared at her phone, but looked up as soon as she heard the purr of Rooster’s car. A bright smile spread across her face as she stood up, Bradley’s mouth went dry seeing her in a floral sundress. Holy shit.

“Long time no see!” She chirped and tucked her phone into her purse.

Bradley climbed out of his car and met her at the passenger side door, opening it like the gentleman he is, “You look… wonderful.”

“Awww thanks, Bradshaw!” She buckled herself in, “Another Hawaiian shirt, I see.”

He jogged back around the car and hopped into the driver’s seat, “You’ve seen two of the many in my collection.”

When he turned the car on, Scar Tissue by Red Hot Chili Peppers started playing through the speakers.

“I love this song!” Y/N reached over and turned up the volume.

Despite having to drive, Rooster couldn’t help but intermittently look over and admire the woman sitting next to him, singing along quietly, with the wind whipping through her hair.

“Ugh!” She cried out over the music, “It’s so beautiful!”

Before he could stop himself from saying something so cheesy, he replied, “So are you.”

Y/N smiled sheepishly and didn’t know how to answer, so she started singing along with the Chili Peppers, “Blood loss in a bathroom stall, southern girl with a scarlet drawl…”

Rooster just smirked to himself and kept sneaking peeks at her, he loved leaving someone who always knew what to say speechless.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

You nervously stirred your iced latte a little too intently in its very aesthetic mason jar, trying to figure out how to tell him your news.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” He asked, resting his chin on his fists.

You smiled, “I sent in a couple job applications this morning.”

Bradley’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, “That’s amazing! Where abouts?”

“Naval Medical Center, obviously… UCSD, Scripps, Sharp…” You listed off the names.

“All in San Diego?” He asked.

You nodded, “I really really like it here, there’s nothing better than being able to walk to the beach on my day off.”

“I try to start most of my days off with a run on the beach, I don’t even need headphones sometimes… It’s nice to just listen to the waves.” He mused.

The cute server that took your drink orders popped back to your table asking about food orders.

Your eyes widened with embarrassment, you hadn’t even looked at the menu.

Bradley took one look at you and asked for the server to come back in a few minutes.

“I hadn’t even looked at the menu…” You giggled.

“It’s okay, I always get the same thing so I wasn’t looking either.” He said.

You looked down and scanned the menu, “How stereotypically California of me would it be if I ordered avocado toast?”

He chuckled, “Almost as stereotypically California as me, always ordering the breakfast burrito.”

“Are you from here?” You asked, since this was kind of a date, now would be a good time to ask these introductory questions.

“Kinda… My dad was a naval aviator too and he spent some time here before he died. But I grew up mostly in Virginia since that’s where my mom’s family is. But she died when I was sixteen. After college, I commissioned as an officer and haven’t really had a homebase since. I just go where the navy needs me” He explained.

You reached across the table and held out your hand, “I’m so sorry, Bradley. I can’t imagine that kind of loss.”

He sighed and placed his hand on top of yours, “Some days are easier than others, most days are, actually. I don’t remember much of my dad, I get upset with myself for it if I think about it too much.”

“How old were you when he died?” You asked.

At this point, Bradley was struggling to make eye contact with you. You could tell this was a really hard topic for him, “Four.”

“You were just a little guy… basically a toddler.” You tried to comfort him and stroke the back of his hand with your thumb, just like he did to you last night, “It’s not your fault that the memories are hazy.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I guess I never really realized just how young I was when he died.”

You desperately wanted to dig deeper and to learn more about the man in front of you and the people who raised him, but it didn’t feel like the right time. “This feels like a… sacred topic of conversation. Maybe we should put a pin in it and have it another time, maybe somewhere more quiet and private… when you’re ready.”

He squeezed your hand, “I would really, really love that, Y/N.”

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