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frannyzooey · 2 months ago

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Short Days, Long Nights: One Shot

Series Masterlist

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: E

A/N: I missed them, so here you go ❤ one million bajillion thanks to @bageldaddy for looking this over and for typing the words "do a crux check, I think it's here like five times". She was right, as she often is 😌

The brothers ride in silence, snow crunching under the hooves of their horses. Everything covered in a fresh blanket of white, they leave fresh tracks behind them as they make their way towards the gates.

“You gonna tell me what your problem is?”

Joel glowers, his grip tightening on the reins. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Tommy smirks, a white cloud of heat puffing from his nose. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

A muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks, but he says nothing. He shifts in the saddle, his thighs squeezing to spur his horse on faster.

It’s fuckin’ cold, and his knees ache.

“I think you scared ‘em,” Tommy says, flicking his chin towards the two riders behind them. The boys – new to patrol – give them ample space, their skinny frames swathed in coats in their seat in the saddle. “Just about tore their heads off every time they made a mistake.”

“They shouldn’t be makin’ em,” Joel replies easy.

Tommy laughs. “Like you never made a mistake in your life.”

Joel shakes his head, squinting at the brightness of the fresh snow. Each night has brought a fresh few inches, and he wonders if the kids have been outside in it. He pictures them making snow men, building forts. The snowball fight they had last week with the neighbor kids comes to mind, and a warmth fills up inside of him. Snow wasn’t a thing for him when he was growing up – not in Texas – and he’s glad they get to experience it.

Even if it’s cold as shit.

He pictures the front window of the house, the warm glow it would cast across the snow as darkness falls. You in the kitchen, maybe, and the constant movement of the kids. The image invites him even from beyond the gates, and sighs.

Tommy continues to poke, in the way that only little brothers can.

“Oh, I get it. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

Joel frowns. “Since what?”

“Since you got some alone time. With your wife.”

Tommy’s eyes are bright with teasing, and Joel would normally rise to the occasion – but he doesn’t have it in him. Instead he gives his little brother a sidelong glance.

Tommy chuckles. “I knew it.”

“Hard with all the kids in the house all the time,” Joel grumbles. “Always underfoot, never giving us a moment’s peace.”

“Seems like every time you get a moment’s peace, you end up with another kid, brother. Maybe it’s a good thing.”

Joel shakes his head again, the edge of his mouth lifting for the first time in days.

“It does, doesn’t it,” he says, and Tommy laughs.

“Let me take those little monsters for you,” he offers. “Maria’s been wanting to see them anyhow, and then maybe you won’t walk around anymore lookin’ like you wanna fight anyone who steps in your path.”

Joel scoffs, though he doesn’t argue.

The gates of the settlement come into view, the guard towers built along the top capped with mounds of snow. He pictures the bustle of people that will appear when the gates open – the mess hall, the stables, the familiar facade of the town he’s come to recognize as home. And somewhere, in all that, you.

His mind strays to the image of your face: your beautiful, soft smile, the warmth of your body that he’s missed at night. Weighted heat builds low in his hips, and he begins to thicken underneath his fly.

“Goddamnit,” he mutters.

It really has been too fucking long.

“Tonight,” he says to Tommy, giving him a look. “Can you take ‘em tonight?”

Tommy grins.

–

Joel needs to see the little monsters first.

He needs to listen to June’s endless chatter as she curls up next to him on the couch, wants to see Hank play with his trucks on the carpet, needs the weight of Dolly sleeping body on his chest. His lips brush her downy curls, and he relaxes into the cushions of the couch, surrounded by his children.

“Yea, darlin’” to June, and “tell me more, bud” to Hank and murmurs of “hey, sleepy girl” to Dolly.

His head tips back against the couch, his eyes closing for a second.

“You gonna make it, old man?” you tease, tucking a sleeper into the backpack in front of you. A teddy next, a blanket following it.

He turns his head to look at you, and his eyes slip down your body and back up again. He’s been half hard since the second he pressed a fleeting kiss to your mouth in greeting when he walked in the door.

“I’ll show you old man once these kids leave.”

Your movement halts for a split second, and the corner of his lips tip up as you start to pack faster.

–

You’re still tidying the kitchen when he gets back from Tommy’s.

“I thought I would have more time,” you frown, scooping up the dinner plates to set them in the sink. He stands at your back, his hands curling around your hips to pull you close. His mouth brushes along the column of your neck, his beard tickling your skin. “I wanted to be upstairs, waiting for you. Assuming you’re still up for–”

He turns you, cutting off your sentence with the press of his mouth.

It’s been so fucking long. So long since you’ve really kissed him, too long since you felt his strong grip, too long since you’ve done anything more than a peck here and there between the daily chaos of life. Patrol, the green house, your duties around town, the kids – too many nights have gone by with you falling asleep on the couch while he picks away at his guitar, or collapsing into bed together the second the kids turn in.

You’ve missed him, and you can tell by the way he kisses you, he’s missed you as well.

His deep kiss lingers until he breaks it, resting his forehead against yours.

“Dance with me, honey.”

A smile curls at the edge of your lips. “There isn’t any music.”

“Never stopped you before,” he replies, kissing the corner of your mouth, guiding your arms to wrap around his neck.

Every time he mentions your time at the cabin, a sweet ache blooms in your chest. A time when it was just the two of you, nothing to exist on but the sustenance found in each other. A private, tender time, full of intimacy and closeness, of quiet peace in a world filled with anything but. It’s not like you miss it compared to the safety of Jackson, but…sometimes you do.

You’re reminded of it in the mornings, with his warmth curled along your spine, his nose tucked into the nape of your neck.

You’re reminded of it when you work alone in the garden, the kids down for their naps.

And you’re reminded of it now, as he turns the two of you slowly in a room with no music.

Drawing him in, you bring his mouth to yours. You lean into his sturdiness and breathe him in, your fingers slipping into the curls at the nape of his neck, and he sighs, melting under your touch.

He tilts his head, deepening the kiss and his hands cup your cheeks, his fingertips brushing against the curve of your jaw. Shuffling his feet forward, he guides you towards the counter until the edge of it presses into the small of your back. His mouth moves with more intent, and the toe of his boot nudges your feet apart, making room for himself between your thighs.

“Upstairs?” you mumble against his full mouth, and he shakes his head.

“Right here.”

The husk in his voice makes your eyes flutter shut, an instant liquid heat pooling in the cradle of your hips. It intensifies when his hand takes your own and he slides it down his torso, your fingers brushing over his belt buckle. Lower still, and he wraps your fingers around the heft of his cock, clearly outlined through his jeans.

His hips buck forward into your touch, and a soft moan breaks free of your throat.

“You really did need it bad, huh?” you tease, a breathless thing dripping with your own want.

“So bad, honey. So bad.”

His fingers work the button of your pants open, and you start doing the same to his belt buckle until he swats your hands away, and starts tugging at your pants and underwear. Kneeling, he drags them over the curve of your ass and down your legs, his mouth laving hot kisses along the front of your thighs as he helps you step out of the fabric.

“Joel, your knees. Baby, get off the floor.”

He pays you no mind, his hands forcing you up onto the counter. Spreading your thighs, he shifts closer until his mouth hovers right over where you need him the most: your gleaming, soaked center.

“Fuck my knees,’ he groans, leaning in for a kiss.

Your head tips back against the cabinet with a small thud, your fingers pushing through his hair. You flex your hold, the strands silky underneath the palm of your hand, and he lets out a muffled groan into your center, smearing his tongue flat up the center. He slides it over the pearl of your clit, circling the bud a few times as his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs. He laps at your clit, taps it with the tip of his tongue, slides his tongue around and then over it, over it, over it and when you start to rock your hips against his mouth, he latches onto it with a gentle suck.

“Oh God,” you breathe, your hooded gaze fixed on the crown of his dark curls. His brow furrows in concentration and pleasure, his whiskers catching the delicate skin on your inner thighs and when he presses himself even closer to bury the bottom half of his face, you arch your hips up to meet him. His hand slides up your side in a weighty drag and palms your breast in a full handed hold, giving it a squeeze as he sucks harder. Focusing on the pebbled peak he feels underneath your shirt, his thumb drags over the bud and you feel it between your legs, in time with the steady licks of his tongue.

Your thighs start to tremble against his cheeks, and his hand curls around the bottom of your knee, pushing your leg up to rest your heel on the counter. The position spreads you wide open for him, something he takes advantage of to slip two thick fingers into your soaked core. They fit in snug to the knuckle; your other leg crooked over his shoulder with a tense hold as he starts to stroke a spot deep inside. His full touch tucks tight against your walls, the pressure paired with the wet glide of his tongue tips you over the edge of your release, your moan joining the sound of his.

His knees crack when he stands, and his lips slide against yours. His mustache and chin are damp with you, your taste in his kiss and you deepen it, winding your legs around the back of his thighs to pull him closer. He palms your bare ass, grinding his denim covered crotch against your slick curls. His movements get faster, more desperate, and then he pulls back, his gaze dropping down to watch as you roll your hips into his.

“If you don’t stop, honey, I’m gonna fuck you right here on this counter.”

His words are a low threat, that rumbles from his chest, his eyes never leaving the crux of your thighs.

“Do it.”

Your own gaze is fixed on the bulge behind his fly; your cunt an empty, needy thing. You know just how well he fits, just how good it feels when he slides inside. Snug and thick and filling and your eyes close, a frown pulling at your delicate features.

“Please.”

“If I start here, I won’t be able to stop. I wanna lay you out.” He leans forward, crowding you against the cabinets. “I wanna fuck you too hard for this counter top. I want you too much.”

The words make your stomach drop with need, and you grab his face to pull him in for a frantic, consuming kiss before pushing him back so you can slide off the counter. You can feel him right on your heels as you race up the stairs, a laugh bursting from you when he slaps your ass on the way up. He rushes you through the bedroom door, his hands already grabbing at your remaining clothes.

“Come on, mama. Take that shirt off for me.”

“You first,” you reply, tugging at his blue button down. The snaps pop open in a straight line down his chest, and he tugs it off, flinging it onto the floor. You strip with him: first your top, then your bra. Sliding onto the bed naked, you watch him peel his jeans down his legs. His briefs go next, and your thighs part to make room for him as he crawls on the bed to join you.

Your bodies are a tangle of limbs lying sideways across the bed, his mouth presses against yours the same time his hand dives down to line himself up. The crown of his cock slips right in, and his hips drive forward, forcing you open around him.

“Joel,” you moan, your eyes closing tight.

In the cabin, sunlight pouring through the window across your writhing body, his shoulders between your thighs and his face buried at the crux.

“You feel so fuckin’ good. So good,” he breathes, rocking his hips against yours.

In the woods, the bark of a tree rhythmically scraping against your back, the hot pant of his breath across your skin.

His low groans blend with your softer, higher pitch ones as your fingers dig into the meat of his ass to force him deeper.

Clothing scattered on the bank; shadows scattered across the rounds of your bare shoulders as you ride him, taking him inside you again, and again.

Heady need blooms behind your belly button, your toes curling as your heels dig into the back of his thighs, and every rock of his hips against yours is a filling stroke, a smooth slide forward and back. Whole is what you feel – pressed underneath the weight of his body, the heat of his skin flush with yours, his cock filling every last open inch that belongs to him.

Threading your fingers through the gray at his temple, the open, pleading expression on your face tells him everything he needs to know.

“You gonna come again, honey?”

You nod frantically, the roll of your hips picking up pace. Your nipples tighten against his chest, the hair there scraping each sensitive peak. He braces himself above you, his fists curling into the bedding as he fucks you harder, deeper.

A shudder slips through his solid frame as he watches you come underneath him, and his hips stutter, a deep, reluctant groan rumbling from his chest as he pulls out. Sitting back on his heels, his fist works his cock with an audible, slick pump.

“Where do you want it this time?”

It’s a question he asks now. Jackson has birth control methods, but with scarce supplies, they aren’t something you can always get your hands on. Condoms are more readily available, but you hate the thought of a barrier between the two of you.

Instead, you push your breasts together in a silent invitation, and shift closer to him, positioning his cock right above your chest. The view of his broad chest and strong shoulders has you biting your lip, his arm flexing as he pumps his thick cock filling your vision and your thighs squeeze shut, even though you are more than satisfied.

“Play with ‘em, honey,” he begs, his deep voice straining.

You do, and with one of his hands wrapped around his cock and the other gripped white around the top of the headboard, he comes in spurts across your chest. You keep playing, smearing the milky pools across the tops of your breasts, circling the tight buds of your nipples until they are glistening peaks as he works every last drop out of his cock, and sated, his frame finally relaxes.

“Jesus,” he sighs, dropping down on the bed to lay next to you.

You roll onto your side, your skin damp with his release. His pulse is a steady drum underneath his skin, his cheeks are flush with heat, and the gray along the curve of his jaw stands out even more in the dim lighting of the bedroom. He’s older now, the physical signs more visible. Lines that surround his eyes, more gray threaded throughout his hair — but his hunger is the same. Still the same needy, firm grip love that you’re used to; his calloused hands sliding over your skin. Your gaze slips down his strong profile, lingering on his parted lips and you shift closer to him, tucking yourself closer.

He cracks an eye open to look at you, a dimple appearing in his cheek when he grins. Rolling onto his side, he faces you, slinging the weight of his arm over your waist.

Your fingers brush along his collarbone, and for the first time in days, you feel yourself fully relax.

You know patrol is part of the many pieces keeping this community together, but you’ll never get used to being separated, not fully. You’re half of a whole when he’s gone; half of your heart venturing out into the dangerous world. You’re tense from the second he heads out to the stables until the moment you see him through the front door.

With him finally home, you breathe him in, curling closer. Right where you belong.

His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, and you smile.

“You’re so beautiful, honey.” His nose skims along yours, his lips brushing over your cheek. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. It’s hard to sleep without you here.”

The kiss he gives you is slower this time, more lush. His mouth molds against yours, savoring your familiar taste and you swallow his soft groan down, holding him close. He starts to fade, his kisses slowing into lingering, soft presses.

Rain sliding against the window, flashes of lightning illuminating his profile.

His mouth stops, his eyes fluttering shut. He sleeps the way you never saw him sleep on the trail, the way he was never afforded before the cabin either. The way he probably couldn’t while on patrol, either.

A book resting open and face down on his chest, his breathing steady and deep.

A bone-deep sleep, sated and safe.

Still, when your thumb skates across his full bottom lip, his mouth purses – an unconscious kiss, even from the depths of his slumber. His hand flexes, smoothing over your skin.

Reaching for the light, you click it off, and pull the quilt over the two of you.

Another worn quilt, another bedroom.

Tucking your face into the space between his chin and chest, you close your eyes.

#joel miller #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction

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igotlovestruck · 11 months ago

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storiesforpeanut [ lando norris ]

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — bf!lando norris x pregnant gf!reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °. *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — soon-to-be-parents, fluff, mentions pregnancy, no specific timetable . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °. *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ this is inspired by a filipino actor, ryan agoncillo’s instagram hashtag, #storiesforlucho ! something about dad!lando makes me feel so soft >_< i’ll post this first before posting the written version of fine line (bc i am in a deep pit of writer’s block) anyway, enjoy <3

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

[ x . com ]

[ instagram . com ]

storiesforpeanut

5 likes

storiesforpeanut the day mum and dad went to the hospital to make sure if the tests were true, if you were true. and you were. mum and dad are both confused, scared, but are confident that they could take care of another human being. peanut, the moment we saw this sonogram, our hearts were filled with joy.

this is the day dad called you ‘peanut’ because look at how little you were, my peanut. dad even convinced mum to name you peanut, but mum shut that idea right away. our little peanut, this account is dedicated to you, so you can look at our memories as a family.

peanut, mum and dad loves you so much. you may have changed the trajectory of our lives, but we are still grateful enough to have you in our life. we love you, peanut.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

8 likes

storiesforpeanut you were getting bigger day by day, peanut. bigger and stronger that mum was starting to show. mum never left my side, never missed a weekend supporting whatever it is dad was doing. she started wearing bigger clothes to avoid people seeing. not that she was embarrassed, but because mum was afraid that something would happen at the early stage of your growth.

mum did not believe in superstitions during pregnancy, but when you were growing inside of mum, she didn’t want to jinx anything that might harm you, peanut. avoiding the public eye was hard, but heck, your mum did such a good job doing so.

we love you, peanut. and we will protect you from any harm. we will protect you for the rest of our lives.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

16 likes

storiesforpeanut our first day back in abu dhabi after a year. mum got ready for our friday schedules and we arrived earlier. people were shocked to see her, after hiding her bump with oversized clothes for at least two months while accompanying dad. people took photos of mum and dad, people started congratulating the both of us.

we hid you for a little while, peanut. that’s because of dad’s work where almost everyone in the world is staring at us and that scared mum and dad. that someone might mob the both of us and could cause you and mum harm.

negativity aside, peanut, your aunts and uncles were excited when they saw mum. everyone, including dad’s big boss had a huge grin on their faces. everyone was happy to meet you, peanut. even though it will still be a few months until we meet you personally.

we love you, peanut. we can’t wait to meet you here.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

20 likes

storiesforpeanut mum and had has two moods: beach mood and winter mood. this is taken after our weekend in abu dhabi. we stayed for a few more days, exploring the beach and enjoying the sun before going to a cold place to spend some time with dad’s friends (and ski! which mum can’t do as of the moment, don’t want to harm you, peanut).

you won’t believe it, peanut. mum threw a snowball on dad's head, her revenge because i insisted we call you peanut.

mum enjoys the sun and winter, peanut. those are her favourite season. dad, however, loves all seasons as long as he gets to spend it with mum and you, as well, peanut. mum and dad will experience these seasons with you in a few months.

we love you, peanut. we can’t wait for you to experience your first snow, first beach, first autumn and first spring.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

29 likes

storiesforpeanut taken while mum and dad are on their way to maccy d’s in the middle of winter. mum said she wanted fries without the salt. /fries without the salt/. even though that was a weird request, can’t deny mum her weird cravings. after all, she’s growing a literal human inside her–which is you, peanut.

also, mum only ate three pieces of fries and made me eat it while she watched. that i didn’t like. but you know what? dad is ready to give you everything you want. you and mum. be it a weird craving, late night feed or nappy change–i will be there for you and mum. always in all ways.

we love you, peanut. we can’t wait for you here.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

37 likes

storiesforpeanut mum took this video. the very first time you kicked, and dad was in the shower (unfortunately). mum and dad are visiting mum’s family where mum reunited with her childhood dog. mum’s pup, poppy, immediately went to her and checked. poppy sensed your existence, peanut. even poppy was excited to meet you.

mum and dad’s family are delighted to have you, peanut. especially your grandmums. they now named themselves, nan from dad’s mum and granny from mum’s side.

we love you, peanut. we are all waiting for your arrival.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

55 likes

storiesforpeanut 30 weeks in, and we finally saw your beautiful face, peanut. mum and dad haven’t gotten over the first time they heard your heart beat, felt your kicks, yet here you are... so beautiful as mum’s doctor showed us your face.

peanut, mum and dad were scared the first time we found out that mum was pregnant. but seeing you now, all those fears are gone and we feel confident that we can do this–together.

you are such a happy baby, peanut. you even got dad’s dimples, said mum. you are a perfect balance of mum and dad.

we love you, peanut. 10 more weeks until we finally meet. we can’t wait for that day to come.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

79 likes

storiesforpeanut last week of mum’s beautiful belly. any day now, we will finally meet you. you’ll have your first breath, first cry. mum and dad and other family members cannot wait to finally meet you, peanut.

the last nine months has been crazy, peanut. it was crazy, but it was fun. brought mum and dad closer than ever. you’ll be so loved, no, you are so loved already, peanut. and a little spoiled because some of dad’s friends from work have sent you numerous toys and clothes and even diapers to last for the next year or two.

we love you, peanut. we’ll see you soon.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

249 likes

storiesforpeanut well, it’s nice to meet you, peanut. mum and dad are delighted to finally see you. mum laboured for almost 24 hours, and by the time stroked at exactly 04:49 am, you were born.

dad almost passed out during your birth (for some reason), but dad got through it. mum was so brave, dad held her hand throughout the procedure and never left mum’s side.

peanut, the second they returned you to mum and dad after cleaning you and helping mum, we couldn’t stop looking at you. how could we make such a beautiful baby like you? said dad.

we love you so much, peanut. welcome to the real world.

love, dad.

yourusername

liked by mclaren, lilymhe, landonorris and 1,839,937 others

yourusername baby olivia norris checking in 🫣👩‍🍼

view all 23,961 comments

mclaren congratulations, y/n and lando! 🧡 welcome to the world, olivia 😍

landonorris my girls ❤️

user OMGGGGG shes hereeeeee

user congratulations 😭😭😭😭😭😭

user shes so tiny!!! 😭😭 so cute

lilymhe congratulations girl!! 😍 can’t wait to officially meet ms. olivia and see you soon 🤗

yourusername thank you babe 😚 you and alex can visit us anytime

alex_albon on our way NOW

yourusername dont bring any more toys ok

lilymhe aww why not :(

yourusername WE HAVE NO SPACE ANYMORE

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell and 1,990,827 others

landonorris me 🤜 🤛 peanut

view all 45,839 comments

maxfewtrell will i be able to hold olivia 😁

landonorris no

maxfewtrell ☹️

yourusername lando be nice

landonorris ok fine

user let him hold olivia!!

landonorris 😐😐

oscarpiastri congratulations mate 🫡 on my way to give gifts

landonorris thank you and pls dont bring anymore

oscarpiastri it’s a koala bear

landonorris ...

landonorris ok fine i guess

oscarpiastri 🐨🐨🐨

user no way lando’s first picture with olivia is them doing a fistbump 😭

user why are there two babies in this pic

storiesforpeanut and landonorris

908,729 likes

storiesforpeanut on your very first boat ride, dad had the courage to finally ask mum an important question. a question dad has been wanting to ask mum since he saw your very first sonogram. and guess what, peanut? mum finally agreed to marry dad!

you may not remember this at all, peanut. but it was a day to remember, indeed. dad really wanted this to be perfect, and he got what he wanted. this is a year full of surprises.

we love you, peanut. we love you so much.

love, dad.

view all comments

user omgomgomgomgogm

user LANDO GETTING MARRIED JFJFHFJF IM CRYINGGG

user OLIVIA MAY NOT REMEMBER IT BUT SHE JUST WITNESSED HER PARENTS GET ENGAGED AND GET MARRIED IN THE SAME LIFE TIME

user congra😭😭😭😭tula😭😭😭😭tions

yourusername

690,857 likes

yourusername beach days with the loves of my life 🌅

view all comments

user i love this family so much

user THE KITTLE FINGERS

user PEANUT’S SMALL FINGERS IM CRYIGN

landonorris i love you babies

yourusername we love you, daddy

landonorris 😳😳😳

yourusername sleep on the couch tonight

landonorris I WAS JUST KIDDING

landonorris BABE

landonorris PLEAAAASEEEE

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris one shot #lando norris oneshot #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris insta au #f1 imagine #f1 fan fic #f1 one shot #f1 instagram edit #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader

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mikkomacko · 2 months ago

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Him and I - Soul Bound

Mob!Nico x reader

Warnings: some angst, but mostly cute. Mentions of death, of heartbreak.

Previous part

A/n: I apologize for how long this took me! I really really hope it was worth the wait haha. I’ll be editing and proofing later but wanted to get it out for y’all. Enjoy!

————————————————————————

Blinking softly, Nico breathes in the scent of your shampoo, the soft strands of your hair warm with each puff of air he exhales. Snowflakes scatter the streetlights coming in the bedroom window, the night clouds dumping snow on the ground. He thinks of you, contemplates waking you up so you can see it for just a moment. You love the snow, love how soft and quiet everything seems during the winter.

You’d love this storm. The flakes are big and fat, building up on the windowsill like something out of a movie.

Nico buries the tip of his nose further into your hair, restraining himself from rousing you. You need to sleep, need to get better so he can take you home. So that you’ll both get your normal lives back.

His thumb rubs circles over your hip, trying to soothe you while also lull himself back to sleep. He’s not sure what woke him. It could be the two wedding rings he has hidden in this bedroom, one that you’re very aware of. It could be the lingering bruises and cuts on your skin, marks that taunt Nico. Or it could be the fact that this entire trip has derailed his relationship with you.

He expected to leave here with a fiancée. Now he’ll be lucky if he leaves here with a girlfriend that still wants the pendant around her neck.

Swallowing heavily, Nico closes his eyes and pushes the thought out his head. You’ve picked him a million times over, he shouldn’t be scared that suddenly you wouldn’t do it again.

“Nico,” you murmur, voice just a whimper and it startles him. His body goes rigid, arms tightening around you and he cranes his neck to look down at the top of your head.

“I’m here darling, what’s wrong?”

Fingertips trail over your forehead, brushing out of place baby hairs away. You stir, heavy eyelids fighting to flutter open as his palm settles on the side of your neck, fingers lightly squeezing in encouragement. Fingers that can cause so much damage but touch you like you’re a precious pearl.

“I had a bad dream,” you finally whisper, shaken. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, guilt settling like a stone in his gut. Unable to look at you, he focuses back on the bedroom window.

“Got you,” he swears “I’ve got you baby, you’re ok.”

Your back shifts under his hands, ribs expanding as you inhale deeply and blow out a rattled breath. Then you do it again, the puff of air hot on his bare chest. Finally, you settle.

Not for long though. Shuffling, you push yourself up until you’re straddling his waist, weight heavy on his stomach and thighs but welcome. Knuckling at your sleepy eyes, you blink sluggishly at him.

“Why are you up handsome?”

He shrugs, smiling softly at the sweet name. Your fingers reach out for him, gentle and tickling as you push a strand of hair off his forehead.

“Was watching the snow fall and thinking about you.” Nico admits, voice just a whisper. Like a bolt of electricity has gone through you, you perk up, eyes brightening.

“Snowing?”

Pursing his lips to keep from laughing, Nico nods against the pillow. You duck your head down, rolling your lips inwards and trying to hide that beautiful smile from him. His heart swells with love, thumping painfully in his chest. Hands running up and down either side of your waist, he finally gives.

“Come on, let’s go outside.”

~~~~

It’s like a dream. The buttery glow of the street lights on the fresh snow, reflecting off your smiling cheeks that have turned pink in the cold.

The fabric of your snow pants swish as you waddle away from him, snow crunching loudly under both of your boots.

Clouds of fog dance in front of Nico’s eyes, thickening as he huffs and puffs after you. Stumbling after you, Nico lazily tosses the snowball in his gloved hands. It smacks you square in the back, and you squeal dramatically.

Nico stops as you whirl around, scooping up your own snowball and he hides behind his arms as you throw it into his chest. Flakes of snow drift up to his chin and cheeks, biting cold but he laughs anyway.

“Right in the heart baby?” He gasps, clutching at his pec. “Ouch.”

You pout, locking your hands together under your chin. “Oh no poor baby Nico.” You tease, a wicked grin morphing on your lips as you quickly scoop up more snow and run at him.

Tossing the half formed snowball into his stomach, you laugh evilly and try to duck around him. Luckily Nico has quick reflexes and manages to wrap his arms around you, lifting you up and swinging you in a circle.

Clutching at his hands and arms, you squeal and giggle, snow boots and legs drifting through the air. Nico keeps swaying you back and forth until his biceps burn from holding you and his stomach and cheeks ache from laughing.

“Cold?”He asks after your feet are back on the ground, the ice cold tip of his nose nudging your cheek.

“Yeah,” you pant out, still trying to catch your breath. The two of you haven’t gone far from the house. You’re still close enough that if any of the boys are light sleepers they definitely heard you laughing and play fighting. Not that Nico cares.

This is his house and he can do as he pleases on the property. Hell if he wanted to walk around buck naked he’s more than welcome to do so.

However, it is getting late (or early, he supposes) so he nudges you back towards the house with two hands on your waist. You move in silence alongside him, kicking snow off your boots on the porch before huddling into the entryway. Like a well oiled machine you seamlessly strip out of your snow clothes and layers, leaving them abandoned in heaps in front of the door to be dealt with in the morning.

Nico’s gotten down to his socks, a pair of boxers, and his shirt when you suddenly crowd into his chest, hands holding his face tenderly as you guide him down into a kiss. Like its second nature he holds you, arms snaking around your torso and lifting you to your toes so he can kiss you back.

It’s then that he realizes you’ve taken off almost everything, the only piece of clothing left on your body the soft pair of cotton underwear that brushes against his pinky finger.

Your skin is warm and soft, soothing against his thawing fingertips as he runs a hand up your spine, fingers gripping your hair.

Head fuzzy, Nico groans when you push your chest tight against his, sweetly nudging at his bottom lip with your tongue.

“Baby,” he murmurs gently, every part of him aching to just lay you down on the stupidly soft fur rug just across the way and have his way with you. But he can’t bring himself too, even if his dick is starting to thicken up in interest.

You must be able to tell by his tone, eyes fluttering open and swollen lips brushing against his. Gaze switching between his eyes, you stroke at the scruffy hairs of his beard.

“Are you ever going to stop looking at me like I’m hurt?”

It’s not accusatory. Or angry. Or even disappointed. Your tone is curious, like you’re simply asking him if he still likes coffee ice cream.

“You’re all healed up, I know.” He assures quietly, but earnestly. “And as badly as I want to make you feel good on me, I can’t until I’m certain that you’re all healed up inside too.”

Something warm and tender settles in your features, lifting the corners of your lips in a bittersweet smile.

“I know,” you whisper, slowly stepping back from him. He’s sure you’ve lost your top somewhere in the mess clothes beneath your feet, so he tugs off his own t-shirt, straightening out the sleeve. You duck your head down when he holds it open to you, helping you pull it down over your shoulders and torso.

Nico holds you again, desperate to feel you against him. His favorite thing in the world is getting to hold you close to him.

You lay your head on his shoulder, left arm squished between your two bodies and right hand innocently fiddling with the waistband of his boxers.

Bashfully, you say, “I don’t know how to be, though. I’m so mad at Timo, and I’ve never been mad at him before. And then I feel bad because I’m not mad you but I should be if I’m mad at him. But I don’t even know why I’m mad.”

Nico hums, swallowing thickly. You maybe should be mad at him. He knows he didn’t handle the situation well, knows he let his fear get ahold of him and he shut you down to protect you. Instead of using this as a chance to make you stronger and smarter, he put you in metaphorical bubble wrap.

“Yes you do,” he finally responds. “You just won’t say it because you don’t think it justifies how upset you are. But it does baby, and you have every right to feel that way.”

You sniffle. “Ok.”

He shakes his head fondly, amused by your lack of response and knowing that it simply means you’re really listening to him.

“But Timo has his own justifications for what he did and until you hear his side of it, you’ll both just be angry at each other.”

Your hand runs up his stomach, fingers cold on his skin and you teasingly pinch at the fat on his lower belly. “When did you get so smart?”

Looking up at him with twinkling eyes and an amused grin, Nico presses a soft kiss between your eyes.

“When I met you.”

~~~~

Nico’s arm is heavy on your shoulders as the two of you descend the stairs. It’s obvious that last nights snowy adventure has left you two exhausted if the dragging feet and yawns are anything to go by.

Chatter, the noisy clattering of pans and silverware travel from the kitchen. Sharing a curious look with Nico, you stop in the entryway and blink twice to make sure you’re not still sleeping.

Mercer is standing over the stove, a pan of bacon popping and sizzling in front of him. Luke is looming over the toaster, a loaf of bread in hand and a pile of toast stacked on a plate. At the bar top, Timo is elegantly slicing through tomatoes, carefully watching Alex in front of him who is doing his best to replicate Timo’s technique. And Jack sits with them, nimble fingers tearing apart a head of lettuce and laying the leafs out on a platter.

Mouth parted in shock, Mercer turns around, a spatula with greasy bacon in hand. He freezes when he spots you two, eyes wide and caught. You realize he’s wearing a white apron that reads “I ♥️ fondue” and wonder if it’s Timo’s or Nico’s.

“Morning sleepyheads.” He greets, bacon dripping grease onto the floor. Beside you, Nico sighs and drags a hand across his face.

“Mess, Merc.” He grumbles, more tired than annoyed or angry.

Mercer makes a noise of surprise, rushing to the island counter and laying the strips of bacon out on a platter. Nico removes his arm from you, grabbing the dish towel off the oven rack and moving to clean up the mess.

“Thanks boss,” Mercer grins, going back to his post at the stove. Nico grunts in acknowledgment, haphazardly throwing the rag into the sink as he heads towards the corner where the coffee pot is nestled.

One track minded for his morning caffeine, Nico putters around silently, dipping in and out of cabinets.

Rubbing your eyes, you look at the other boys. Jack is still going about his business of arranging lettuce pieces but he’s got a shit eating grin on his face, watching Nico intently. You already know he’s waiting for his boss to perk up so he can make some crude remarks or guesses at why the both of you slept in today.

Avoidant, Timo is locked in on the task of slicing tomatoes but you can tell he’s distracted. He’s slowed down, hands moving like molasses as if he’s putting more effort into not looking around than he is cutting vegetables.

Alex however, is watching you. He’s still holding his knife and half cut tomato in his hands, but they sit limp on the counter top. He angles himself towards you, gaze hesitant.

“I tried to make your matcha for you. It’s in the fridge. Not sure how good it is though.”

As usual, he just warms your heart. They couldn’t even make a cup of coffee for Nico, they’re boss, and yet Alex took the time to make you matcha before he started on breakfast BLTs with the rest of them.

“Thanks,” you smile, “M’sure it’s fine. If Nico can make it, anyone can.”

Now leaning against the counter next to Luke, Nico glares at you over the rim of his coffee mug. Even so he looks cute, all puffy eyes and messy hair, thick eyebrows pinched together.

You clear your throat, smiling drooping as you soak in how awkward it feels to be around all of them. How Luke still hasn’t said a word and that’s weird of him. Neither has Jack, and that’s so out of character it’s detrimentally concerning.

And poor Alex who looks like he’s just swallowed a buzzing alarm clock, who has never been holy at handling conflict between those he loves. Guilty, you’re moving before you can even think about it.

Timo must see you coming though because he drops everything in his hands, turning just right that you fit perfectly into the seam of his shoulder when you throw your arms around him.

He’s bigger than Nico, just a hair taller and a bit thicker, but the two of you are like pieces of the same puzzle. Different than you and Nico, but just as perfect.

The hug doesn’t say everything you need it to, but it says enough. You can tell by the way he sighs in relief, breath hot on the top of your head and he melts into you. Your fingers cling to his back, holding him tightly and desperately and it feels like the more you cling to him the tighter he squeezes you around the shoulders.

Closing your watering eyes, you puff out a weighted breath. “Please tell me you helped him make that matcha?” You whisper, just loud for Timo to hear. You can feel his laugh on your skin.

“Of course I did.”

~~~~

Picking at the sleeve of your cable knit sweater, you look from Nico to Timo, lips pursed. Your sat on the freshly made bed, legs crossed over each other in front of you and that teddy bear from Nico’s childhood bedroom resting by your feet.

Timo clears his throat uncomfortably, sat in the large windowsill across from the bed. The sky behind him is bright and blue, showing off after a night of dumping snow in the town. It hurts your eyes a bit to look at it, stabs at the tender spot behind your right eye.

Nico is slowly pacing by the side of the bed. Not anxiously or uneasy, but in a way that makes you feel both of those. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, the string of his hoodie bitten between his teeth.

Every once in awhile he looks up from his feet, looks at Timo like he can’t really decide what to do with him. Then he looks at you, and his eyes go all gentle and soft, and his lips lift just the slightest bit. Then he looks back at his feet and paces.

“Um Schoa?”

He stops, looks up at you expectantly. “Hi, wanna sit for a second?” You ask politely, patting the bed next to you. His brow furrows.

“Why?”

Laughing, you say, “So that I can hold your hand when I tell you that we don’t need a mediator.”

Across the room Timo chuckles. Nico’s head snaps over to glare at him and Timo hides his smile behind his hand, pretending to scratch above his lip.

Climbing to your knees, you shuffle to the end of the bed until you can reach Nico, taking his hands in yours. Your touch pulls his attention from Timo, gaze going tender as it falls on you. You almost melt at the way his head tilts ever so slightly and his thumbs rub at the back of your hands.

“I know that I just…”

“Just what?” You encourage.

His next breath comes out slow and calculated, eyebrows pinching ever so slightly as he thinks. “I’m trying to decide if I should make you two wait to do this and take you with me to Luca’s.”

The investigation (and subsequent interrogation) that had taken place after Lena and Marcello abducted you was officially completed a few days ago. Luca has been waiting for you to heal before he wanted to go over the run down and findings with Nico.

You know why Nico is so torn up about making you and Timo go. He’s trying to open the work side of the family to you, just as you’d asked him to do. He wants you to feel included, to know that he’s not trying to hide this.

But at the same time, you’re relationship with Timo is more important to you than knowing why and what happened that day in his grandfathers old house.

Besides, it makes your skin crawl thinking about having to watch security footage, hear stories and records taken during interrogation with Luca and the rest of the boys around. Probably Nina too, and whatever men they have tailing them.

Embarrassing, you decide. It would so embarrassing to look them in the eye after they’ve seen you at your weakest.

“I want to hear it from you,” you say, fingers tightening around his palms. “Just you, please.”

He reads you so well. Can tell immediately why you don’t want to go, that you only trust him enough to relive that day with him. No one else.

“Ok,” Nico agrees easily, right hand letting go of yours to cradle the back of your head. He ducks down and presses a comforting peck to your forehead. “I promise I’ll tell you everything we find, show you whatever you want after ok?”

He straightens out, smoothes his hand over the top of your head and looks to Timo.

“You’ll be updated too,” Nico tells him. “As long as you keep her safe and happy today, deal?”

Your best friend scoffs. “That’s literally my job description. Along with being hot.”

His words make you giggle, the sound so unexpected you press into Nico’s stomach to stifle the sound into his hoodie. You know better than to laugh when Nico is talking business, but sometimes those boys get the best of you.

And as much as Nico pretends it annoys him, you know he likes to see how happy the family makes you. You can tell by the way he softly tugs at the roots of your hair, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you look up at him. He’s fighting back an amused grin when you do.

“Come on Schao,” you mumble. “Get outta here, it’s Timo time.”

~~~~

Snow crunching under your boots, you sip at your latte, wincing when the foam burns the tip of your tongue, but too impatient to wait for it to cool.

To the left of you, Timo has popped the lid off of his drink, swirls of steam billowing up into the frigid air and he’s cautiously blowing to cool the liquid down.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye, the two of you strolling lackadaisically through the streets of town. After a moment he takes a deep breath, gloved hand shoving the lid back on his latte. He takes a sip.

“I’m sorry that I left you in the hospital that day,” he finally says, voice quiet like he’s unsure of what to even say. “I should’ve told Nico that you could handle it.”

“Do you really believe that?” You ask, “or are you just saying that now?”

He frowns, lips pursuing. He looks like he’s fighting himself on what to say and you’re unsure if that’s a bad thing or not.

“When Nico came me to that day and told me he lost you, it was like the ground fell out beneath me,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know how Nico kept his cool, but I mean he’s always been good at knowing what to do and when to do it.

“So when he said it wasn’t the best idea to let you at Lena and stuff, I trusted him-“

“You should’ve trusted me.” You cut in, the reminder of him picking Nico over you making your temper flare.

“I know I know,” Timo concedes, holding a hand out to stop you at the streets crosswalk. He checks both ways before nodding you along. “But I was scared and I just-I couldn’t-I didn’t trust myself.”

The sidewalk under your feet feels slick, and you reach out to link your arm through Timo’s. He’s sturdy, locking your arm under his bicep and slipping his hand into his pocket.

“What do you mean?”

Timo sighs heavily, breath shaking with the weight of it. “It was my job to train you, to prepare you to be Nico’s prinzessin and I failed. Somewhere along the way, something you were supposed to know didn’t click and I didn’t make sure that it did. And then all of this happened.

“I did this to you and Nico!”

He’s stopped walking now, angled himself towards you. His eyes are wet and red when they meet yours, the sadness in them colder than the winter temperatures.

“I had to side with him. It was the only thing that felt right after I screwed up so badly. You know Nico, he can fix literally anything.”

You wrench your arm out of his hold, rising to your toes and throwing it around his neck into a bruising hug.

Timo tucks his face into your shoulder, shoulders hunching down to meet your height. Blinking away the tears in your own eyes, you look up at the bright blue sky and focus on the puffy clouds drifting by.

“I had a panic attack,” you murmur weakly. “At the party. Nico and I were fighting, it felt like he was so far away and I just freaked. It was like I was on autopilot, I just went outside to catch my breath.”

You swallow thickly, choking back tears. “As soon as the world around me came back I realized what I did and tried to go back but-“

“Don’t say it,” he cuts off, voice strained and broken. “Don’t tell me how they hurt you.”

“I should’ve been ready,” you continue instead. “Everything they did I went over with you a million times. At least everything I can remember them doing. B-but it was like my head was exploding. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t see.

“My head hurt so badly. I could feel the instructions and lessons right there but nothing was clicking. All I could think about was Nico, how much I wanted him there.”

The air is colder on your cheeks now, and you realize it’s the wet trails of tears that burn. You tuck into Timo shoulders, wet eyelashes fluttering shut to hide from the world.

“I failed Timo. You and Nico prepared me, I just couldn’t do it.”

The arm around your middle squeezes, so tightly it takes your breath away. “That’s not true,” he utters, earnestly. “You didn’t fail. You showed all of us up, you got Luca to side with you. You got the boys out here.

“You showed me and Nico that you know how to lead, all on your own.”

His assurance is like warm water trickling on your head, trailing down into your bones. It’s soothing, calming to hear. Especially from him, from your best friend in the entire world. And he’s a people pleaser, he’ll tell anyone anything they want to hear. This, however, is sincere.

You can tell by the way he looks down at you after you’ve released him from your hug, baby blue eyes certain and steady.

He holds his arm out to you. “M’sorry I didn’t listen to you before.”

“I’m sorry I shut down on you,” you apologize, taking his arm like before. He nods down the street.

“Come on. I want to show you something.”

~~~~

The room is so silent, Nico thinks he could hear snowflakes hitting the roof of the building if he really listened. If it weren’t for the sound of Holtzy breathing so shakily, angrily.

Nico knows the feeling.

The large display screen in Luca’s conference room has gone dark, reflecting a distorted image of them gathered around the table. Nico doesn’t really see that picture. No, he still sees Marcello tying to the chair, how harshly your limo body was thrown down and manipulated with rope. He can still see the way your head lulled, even after you woke up. The way you tried to move and he’s not sure if the bindings stopped you or the fact that you looked like you couldn’t even identify your own limbs.

He can still see the blood that smattered the floor when Lena hit you. Can see and hear the way you cried when Marcello touched you.

Nico never got the footage of the warehouse in Philly when you taken the first time. He had no way of accessing it, especially after he lit the place on fire. He’s thankful for that now.

If he can’t stand to see this, he would’ve died seeing that.

“All of that because she wanted Nico?”

It’s Luke who speaks up first, lips curled in disdain as he looks away from the screen to Luca. The older Hischier sibling looks guilty as he nods, bringing a fist to his mouth as he clears his throat.

“She wanted the business. And the only way to get that for her was through Nico.”

The phones they’d taken and unlocked from Marcello and Lena lay on the oak table in front of him, message threads pulled up. Nico doesn’t need to read them again. Doesn’t need to see another video, hear anymore audio. The story is clear cut.

Lena convinced Marcello that you were using Nico, that you wanted to infiltrate the family from the inside where’d you’d be able to take over both Luca and Nina’s territory.

Marcello believed her, spurred by the fact that they never saw you in a Devs pendant or with a ring. Because in the states, those marks are subtle and hidden. Yours is always tucked under your shirt.

Unlike in Switzerland, where a pendant is always flaunted, every outfit centered around the piece of gold.

And then they devised a plan. One carefully laid out in a text thread between the two the same night Nico took you to Luca’s bar. The same night that you had a run with Lena, apparently. Her friends said something to Luca about it, his camera picked up the moment in front of the bathroom, and Nina confirmed it.

Nico had no idea about it. Hadn’t even known his ex-whatever was even back in town. He can’t believe he didn’t notice. He’s usually so attentive, so analytic of his whereabouts. He’d let his guard down that night too. Because he was so happy to see his siblings, to see you fit right into that booth in the bar with his sister and at the pool table with Luca.

He remembers holding you that night in the bar. Loving and kissing on you in a way he doesn’t normally do in public. How he swayed you to his favorite song and held your waist when helping you line up the queue ball. The way he whispered stupid little things into your ear just to get you to giggle and curl into him, give him a reason to press sweet kisses to your neck and cheeks.

Lena most of noticed. Must of seen how fucking in love he is with you. He never took her to his family’s places, never played her any songs he liked, never tried to make her laugh.

It makes him nauseous to think that someone took that love and used it to hurt you. That she saw him with you and decided that was reason enough to put you in the hospital, to articulate a plan that would take you out of his life forever.

Because that was the intention.

It’s written out in front of him. Kidnap you, use you as bait to get a private meeting with Nico. And when he’d get there by himself, Marcello would have the barrel of his pistol to your temple and Nico would barely get to say your name before he’d pull the trigger.

And Lena would throw herself at him, threaten to turn him in for treason if he didn’t agree to get back with her. She’d tell his whole family how you were using them, say Nico was in on it, and that would be it.

“She should’ve killed her,” Holtzy mutters, and Nico can’t say he disagrees with him. There was a reason he was saving Marcello and Lena after their interrogation. He wanted to have the whole story before he decided what to do.

You took matters into your own hands though, and Nico now thinks that was merciful of you. Because he’d hurt them in ways they could never imagine if he had the chance to now.

All of this because Marcello couldn’t think to check around your fucking neck for a ring or pendant before he strangled you with Nico’s scarf.

“Alex,” Nina breathes in disappointment, lips parted like she wants to scold him or defend you letting Lena live.

“She should’ve,” Nico agrees, so angry it burns his skin, claws at his throat. “She should’ve fucking killed all of us. When we left her at that hospital, when we lied to her.”

He looks over at his boys, at Holtzy who’s always been so fiercely defensive and protective of you it rivals Nico. At Luke and Jack who tease the two of you, who tell you that you can do better and love to drive the two of you crazy but still flew out here last minute because they believe in you. And Mercer who’s always so immature and playful, goofing off and acting like he’s still the 17 year old kid Nico brought into Jersey.

Mercer who worked with you and Luca to execute your plan of revenge. He stepped up lead, got them all together on that flight, was your second in command. The boys took orders from him that day, same as you.

He’s proud of them. Nico is so fucking proud of this group of kids that you turned into men.

“But she did what she thought was best, not what she wanted,” he tells Holtzy. “And we have to trust and accept that.”

The room goes quiet again. Luca takes his seat at the head of the table, running his hands through his hair. Nico locks the stolen phones, stacking them on top of each other and putting them in his hoodie pocket. In case you want to see them.

“I’m retraining,” Luca sighs. “All of my men. In phases every section is going through boot camp again. So that this never happens again Neeky.”

Nico nods, flashing a quick but grateful smile at his brother. He doesn’t blame Luca for this. He knows how Lena is -was- how conniving and controlling. She was so good at always playing the victim.

“We want to have a party kind of thing for you all before you head back to Jersey,” Luca nods towards the younger boys. “End on a happier note. I’ll shut down the bar for a night, have security still but it’ll be safer. Better.”

Nico takes a deep breath, tries to shake off how exhausting this meeting was. “We’ll be there.”

Nina is tapping her fingers on the table top, gaze burning into the side of Nico’s head. He looks over at her, raises an expectant eyebrow.

“When are you gonna do it?”

It. Propose. Nico winces.

“Do what?”

“What are you doing boss?”

Nico thinks the Hughes brothers could be twins with how in sync they always are, how they seem to have the same thoughts. He could kill Nina for bringing this up in front of them.

“Not here,” Nico mutters, looking away when Nina groans in frustration.

“You fought to get her back just to bail! Come on Nico, I saw you that day! You can’t let this scare you off.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching as he tries to keep his tone in check. He didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want to be reminded that the whole purpose of this trip got hijacked and now he’s returning to the states with not just one, but two engagement rings. Neither of which are on your finger.

“M’not gonna do this to her here, Nina.”

“Why not?” She presses. “What could be better? She loves it here, you heard her.”

His temper flares, exploding out of him like boiling oil. “No I heard her screaming and crying as she was tortured!

“I watched her fight for her life in a place she was supposed to be happy. So no I’m not pulling out a ring, and looking her in the eye and explaining that the picture perfect proposal she asked for was lost because I left her alone for five minutes, but please marry me anyway. Sorry I’m asking in my brother’s sticky bar.”

Nico’s chest heaves, angry puffs of air rattling out of him as he sinks back into his chair. He rakes a hand through his hair, tugging on the strands painfully for some kind of release.

He can feel the eyes of all them, watching him like he might start yelling again.

“Boss,” Mercer mumbles cautiously, “she’d still marry you, you know that.”

Nico sighs, nods. “Yeah I know. She told me she still wants to. I just-I have to do it right. And it’s not right anymore.”

“Neeky, you could pull out a ring pop in the bathroom of the bar and that girl would still say yes to you.”

Nina is right. He knows she’s right. You told him that as long as he had the ring and was on his knee, you’d say yes.

But that’s not the point. The point is that he wanted it to be a big deal. Something he planned out, put thought into every detail. He wanted you to see the intention. That way you know he’s doing this because he wants to. Because he wants you.

“I know,” he mutters, the sound of you calling yourself a Hischier on that tape echoing in his head. The last name isn’t officially yours yet, but it’s yours in every sense of the word. “It’s not about her saying yes, I know she’ll say yes. It’s about me…”

Showing her.

He has to show you. Because he’s not great at saying things. He’s better with actions.

“It’s fine,” Nico dismisses, “I’ll figure something out.”

~~~~

Kids laughing and chattering fills the air, echoing around the large skating rink. Timo had bypassed the skate rentals desk when you came in, instead guiding you straight towards the upper stands.

You don’t know why he’s bringing you here, or why he’s staying so far from the actual ice, but you follow him anyway.

The sound of skates scraping the ice flitters up into the rafters, and you glance over to find a group of excited kids skating messily around the rink.

Timo sits dead center in the row, holding down your seat for him and you gladly take it, propping up your half-drank latte on your thigh. You look down, watch the kids skate and notice a woman among them. Beautiful red hair in a thick and loose braid, a black and white skating costume on, the sleeves and pants glittering with gems under the bright lights.

“Nico and I learned to skate here,” Timo says, crossing his foot over his knee and relaxing back into his seat like muscle memory. You wonder how many times he’s come here, probably sat in this exact same seat for some reason.

“It’s a nice rink,” you say, looking over. He’s looking at the ice so intently you think his gaze might magically melt it, create little pools of slush. No, he’s not looking at the ice, you realize, he’s looking at her. At the beautiful red head that’s now gathering the children in a circle for stretches.

“When we were about 13, this girl moved here. Went to our school and everything. She got on well with Nico. We would come here after school everyday, when we were putting off assignments especially. Luca would buy us tickets for the train and we’d come with him because he skated better.

“One day she was here too. And it was like nothing, the way she’d just join us. Never hockey, but she’d skate with us. And she was so beautiful, that way she moved, the way she opened up when she got on the ice…”

His voice has gone soft, distant like he’s lost in this vivid memory of this old friend. You take in the lovesick look on his face, so clear even from just his side profile, and it clicks. He brought you here because that girl on the ice right now is the girl he’s telling you about.

The girl he’d left here. The one Nico briefly mentioned to you once, a few years back when you asked him why Timo, with his beautiful blue eyes and his sweet smile, never went out on dates.

“Timo’s heart is back in Switzerland,” Nico had explained. “His girl is still there, I think.”

You reach over, lay your hand over his in his lap and he blinks, his fingers relaxing under your hold. “Her parents didn’t like us. They knew about Nico and his family, about how I was training with him too. Nico’s grandfather wasn’t the nicest person, hell Rino and Katja are like saints compared to his grandfather.

“So they told her to stay away from us. But she didn’t. Everyday she got on the train with us, sat right next to me and would pull out this cucumber snacks her mother made. She always had them for me. And I started bringing her stuff too. Chocolate and sweets from around my house. She has a sweet tooth but her mother never let her have it. Said it would make her unhealthy.”

Timo laughed quietly to himself, like he still can’t believe her parents were like that. Or maybe at his own rebelliousness, how he went directly against them to make her happy.

“That’s really sweet Timo,” you murmur, smiling to yourself. You’ve known he was a big softie, could’ve guessed that he’d be even worse when in love.

“Yeah, it was. We dated for a long time after that. Snuck around behind her parents back, even though we know they knew. But it was fun. And I was like a puppy in love…”

Something sad settles over his features, glosses over his eyes and he sighs softly.

You fill in the next part for him. “And then you left to Jersey with Nico.”

Timo puffs out his cheeks, nods just once. “I asked her to come with. Told her I’d marry her as soon as we got there. And she agreed, was ready to give up everything, even her figure skating career to come with me.

“But she wasn’t 18 yet and her parents could use that to stop her visa. They told her she couldn’t go with, they forbid it. And they threatened to disown her too.”

You laugh humorlessly, familiar with the abandonment of family. It makes you sad to think of her not even getting the chance to pick. Yeah it broke you to have to make a decision between Nico and your loved ones, but at least you had the agency to make that pick. Her parents never gave her that.

“Every time I’m here I come see her. Beg her to come with me. She’s not close to her parents anymore, but she never got over that teenage fear. And she has a career and a life here now. One without me.

“How am I supposed to ask her to give that up?”

He’s looking at you now, eyes glossy and begging, and it breaks your heart. You had no idea how tormented by love Timo has been all these years. That every year when he makes his annual trip home he tears open old wounds just to see his teenage sweetheart that he never got over.

Answers. He wants answers from you because you had been her before.

You swallow thickly, frowning sympathetically at him. “Tell her that,” you advise. “Tell her how much it hurts you to ask her to give that life up. And if she really loves you, it won’t matter.

“It’s not exactly a sacrifice if what you’re getting in return is far better in the end.”

“Is that how it was?” He asks. “For you and Nico?”

It’s not even a question you have to think about, nodding as your lips curl into a loving smile. “Yeah it was. Nico told me he’d never want to make me choose, but my family wanted me to. And no one who really loves you would make you choose.”

Timo sniffles, blinking back his tears and turning back to the rink. “I don’t want her to pick, I just want her to be happy. And I know she loves me still. Every time I’m home we fall back into who we were when I left. Like no time has ever passed.”

You can’t help but ache for him. So you lean your head against his shoulder, hold his hand to let him know you’re here for him, always.

“You know, for being my best friend, you kept this from me for a long time.”

Timo chuckles, squeezing your fingers in acknowledgment. “I wanted her to myself for a bit longer. And I knew if I told you you’d come flying over here in that jet to get her to come to Jersey.”

On the ice, the beautiful red head looks up from her lesson, immediately finding Timo in the stands. You were right, this must be his spot in the rink, some seat of significance.

Timo lifts his free hand, waving at her and she effortlessly skates a little flourish, wiggling her fingers back at him with a smile so wide you can see it from all the way up here.

You and Nico have your love story, you decide, and now it’s time for Timo to have his too. Whether it’s convincing him to stay here with her or convincing her to come home with him, you’ll do whatever it takes.

#nico hischier #new jersey devils #mob boss nico hischier #nhl #him and i #him and i chats #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier au

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samandcolbyownme · 2 months ago

Note

Okay babe, I need a good old fashioned childhood friends to lovers with Sam. Moms are besties or they grew up next door to each other. Maybe reader is a part of their social media team and lives in LA with them? Could comfort Sam after a breakup or reader has a severe panic/anxiety attack and only Sam can get her to calm down? Can turn into smut can just be super soft fluff, I’m open to whatever, I just need some snuggly cuddly Sam.

Warnings: swearing, slow burn-ish, childhood friends to lovers, flirting, mentions of a break up, kissing, angsty fluff

Word Count: 3.2k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

C h i l d h o o d

You giggled as Sam messed around with the keys of the piano, “I don’t think you’re supposed to play it like that, Sam.”

He laughs, pointing to the key, “You try.”

You tilt your head, poking at the keys with one finger. Sam giggles, reaching over to drag his hand over the keys from one side to the other.

“Sam.” His mom peaks his head into the room, “Gentle, please.”

“Sorry, mom.” Sam looks back at her and you look back, seeing your mom looking in, too. You wave and turn back around, laughing with Sam, “You got in trouble.”

“Did not.” Sam argues and you give him a dramatic sigh, “Did so.”

“Did not.”

“Did so!”

Sam laughs, gently tapping the keys of the piano, “Do you think we’ll be friends forever?” You look over at him, “Do you want to be friends forever?”

He nods, “Yep.”

M i d d l e • S c h o o l

“Is your teacher a jerk?” You looked up at Sam, “Mine yells over everything.”

Sam can’t help but laugh, “Mine spits when he talks.”

“Oh, that’s so gross.” You laugh as you pick at your lunch, “Do you want my fruit cup? I don’t think I’m going to eat it today.”

He nods, “I’ll trade you my brownie for it.” Your eyes go wide, “You love those brownies. Are you sure?”

He nods, sliding it across the lunch table, “Yeah.”

Everybody thought you were a couple. Whenever you weren’t in class, you were side by side, laughing at stupid jokes or making fun of how a teacher said a word - middle schooler stuff.

As middle school went on, you were each discovering yourselves. Both changing everyday in certain ways, but the only thing that stayed the same was your friendship.

H i g h • S c h o o l

High school rolled around and the two of you became three. Colby was added and you all clicked so well. The same speculation of you being with Sam, snowballed into you being with Colby, then you with both of them.

You know, the high school rumors.

No one ever let that get to them. Colby shut those rumors down when he got a girlfriend, and you and Sam just continued doing what you’ve always done.

“They’re cute together.” You nod towards Colby and his girlfriend, “Don’t you think?”

Colby’s girlfriend smiled, she didn’t mind having you around, “I think they’re making fun of us.” Colby scoffs, looking back at Sam, “Can you not.”

Sam laughs, “Sorry, you’re just an easy target. Are you going to that optional band rehearsal?” Colby nods and you chime in, “Going to try and not trip like last time.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “Can we let that go.”

You scrunch up your nose, shaking your head, “No, not for a while.” Sam sighs, “Fine, but only because it’s you.”

You couldn’t lie, there have been feelings for Sam, even way before you understood what they were. You liked being around him, talking to him, FaceTiming him at random times.

You developed a more serious kind of love for Sam, and you were scared of many different things going wrong, or even not going at all.

After graduation, you and Sam remained close, along with Colby. They started up a ghost hunting YouTube channel, and to say it took off, is an understatement.

They were flourishing, quickly at that.

They’ve gotten deals, interviews, requests from people to come investigate their properties, and of course you were there every step of the way.

T o d a y

“Guess who I just got off the phone with.” You say as you walk into the living room, glancing at Sam as you sit down.

He sets his phone in his lap and looks over at you, “Mm, I don’t know.” He smiles, “Tell me.”

You raise your brow, “What’s up?” He shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing. Who did you get off the phone with?”

You turn towards him, “I just got you and Colby and interview on The Evening Show.”

Sam jumps up off the couch, “What!?”

You laugh, nodding, “You heard me. I got you an interview.”

“With Charles Callahan?” He asks, his eyes wide with excitement, “Are you actually fucking serious?”

“Yes, Sam!” You stand up, scrolling on your phone to show him the details, “It’s all right here.” He lays his hands on top of his head, “Y/n, that’s like, a massively famous talk show.”

You nod, “I know.”

“With Charles Callahan.”

You nod again, laughing, “I know that, too.”

“Oh my god.” He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tight, “I don’t know how you managed, but I love you.”

You freeze. It’s normal for you to say it to them, especially Sam, because you’ve known him longer, but everything felt much different for you.

“Seriously.” Sam leans back, his hands on your shoulders, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”

You smile, “I get paid for helping you succeed.” You tease, clearing your throat, “You go next week.”

“We.” He corrects you, “We go next week.” He shakes his head, “Does Colby know?”

You shake your head, “I tried calling him, I don’t know what he’s doing.” Sam nods, sitting back down, “I’ll text him, tell him to come home as soon as possible.”

You nod, sitting back down, “Okay.” You prop your arm on the back of the couch, “So.”

He glances up at you, “So.. what?”

“You gonna tell me why you seem off?”

He shrugs, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.” You raise your brows, “What’s up?”

He sighs, “I didn’t feel.. okay.” He takes a deep breath, “I broke up with Leah, and..” he laughs slightly, “I don’t think she’s taking it well.”

“What do you mean?” You tilt your head and he shakes his, “She, posted a picture of us afterwards, you know once people started speculating that we did, and she’s just adding fuel to the fire and I’m just..”

“Trying to move past it?” You ask and he nods, “Exactly.”

“Why’d you, um, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you break up?”

A smile plays on Sam’s lips slightly, “She had an issue with you.”

“With me?” You scoff, “Sounds like she has bigger issues to worry about than me.”

He nods, “She said she didn’t like the fact that you lived with me, I told her that we’re not like that, we just- “ he stops talking, looking down at his lap, “If anyone has a problem with you, they now have a problem with me, you know?”

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. I feel like that’s the same for me. I guess a lot of people don’t know how to trust.” You shrug, “I’m sorry that you broke up with her.”

He shakes his head, “She wasn’t helping me in any way.” He looks up, “Not like you do.”

You go to ask, but the front door open, and Colby calls our, “Guys? What’s going on?”

Sam springs up, “Colby?!”

“What happened? Is everything good?” He looks at you and Sam and you nod, “Go ahead, Sam.” Sam looks from you to Colby, “Don’t sit down because you’ll just spring right back up when I tell you this.”

“Tell me what?” Colby asks confused, glancing from you to Sam, “What’s happening?”

“Y/n got is on with Charles Callahan.”

Colby’s goes go wide and he looks at you, “What?! No fuckin’ way, dude.” You nod, “Yes fuckin’ way, dude. You go on next week.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Colby walks over, giving you a hug, “Oh my god.”

“She’s the best, right?” Sam smiles and Colby nods, “The absolute best, holy fuck.”

You laugh, “It’s just an interview. Relax.”

Colby rolls his eyes, “Just an interview..” he mocks you, “Y/n. This is a once in a life time experience. I don’t know how you did it, but Jesus fuck. Good job.”

You smile, “You’re welcome. You’re welcome.”

“Come on, Sam. We have to come up with an announcement post.” Colby walks towards the steps and Sam stays there for a moment, staring at you.

“Go.” You wave him on, “If I get anymore details, you’ll be the first to know.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not-“ he sighs, walking over to press a kiss onto your forehead, “Thank you.”

You so badly want to pull him back in as he is walking away, tell him he missed and kiss his lips, but you don’t. You watch as he makes his way up the steps and sit down.

You start coming up with ideas because you know they’ll be coming to you for an announcement post.

Over the next few days, things seem to be more, interesting, between you and Sam.

He’s been everywhere you are, and you’re everywhere he is. You both use the, there’s a lot of work to do, excuse, but neither one of you will admit that you just want the other as company, mainly because you both just already knew it.

“So I was thinking.” You turn your laptop towards him, “This hotel is the closest to the studio, if you’re okay with that I can book three rooms? Each one has two beds and the one has a nice pull out couch, I think.”

“Why three?” He asks and you shrug, “You and Colby get a room, Mitch and Logan can get one and then I can finally get some peace and quiet.” You smirk at him and he laughs, “Oh I see how it is.”

“Do you want that room? I’m sure Colby won’t mind me-“

“No, no.” He cuts you off, “You’re fine, I was just.. messin’ around, you know.”

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. I got it.” You laugh, “Figured we could get there the night before and that way you and Colby have the day to kind of rehearse your answers.”

He nods, “Sounds good to me.”

You nod, going back to your computer before you sigh, “Can I-“ you look over at him and he’s already looking, “When you said that she didn’t help you like I did..”

You laugh slightly, “What did you mean?”

He shrugs, “Just that.. no one really knows me like you do.”

You nod, “Right, right.” You go back to looking at your laptop and Sam ask, his voice kind of quieter, “What did you think I meant?”

You shrug, looking at him, “Exactly what you said.” You give him a small smile and he nods, “Right.” He clears his throat, “Yeah, I mean. We’ve known each other since we were what, five?”

You laugh, “Yeah, yeah.” You tilt your head, “You still got in trouble for playing the piano the way you did.”

“I did not. My mom just told me to be gentle with the keys, but you remember that?” Sam laughs and you nod, “Yeah, I also remember you-“

“Y/n, I swear to god, If you say-“

“Tripped when you were doing your routine for the band.”

He groans, “That’s it.” He stands up, “This conversation is done. I have to go pack.”

“You have a few days yet, Sam.” You yell and he shakes his head, “Sorry, can’t hear you.” He laughs as he looks back at you, “Come on, help me pick out some good outfits.”

“I’ll be up, let me book these room quick.”

——

“Seems like you’re doing a good job on your own.” You smirk as you lean against his door frame, “Oh, gosh. Wait. I take that back.”

You walk over to his suitcase and pull out a pair of pants, switch these out with that black pair. That’ll go better with this stripped shirt.”

He nods, tossing you the pants, “Yeah, I do didn’t do that on purpose.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes, “I’m sure.”

You laugh, “a white tank will finish this look, is this what you’re wearing for the actual interview?”

He nods, “If you think it’s best.”

You nod, “Oh yeah, I like this a lot. Make sure, well, I don’t have to tell you guys, but just a reminder, as your one manager, take pictures for the gram.”

“It’s so weird.” He laughs and you tilt your head, sitting down on his bed, “What is?”

“You’re my boss.” He shakes his head, “I just, I don’t know. When you asked if we’d be friends forever, I didn’t expect this.”

“Me working for you? Sam, you’re my boss.” You laugh, “But yeah, I get what you mean. Never did I picture us living in LA, I never seen myself getting out of that place.”

“I was taking you with one way or another.” Sam sits down next to you, “You deserved more than what that place gave you.”

You nod, “So did you. And looks like we got it.”

He nods, “We got it.”

“Guys!” Colby yells from down stairs, “Where are you?!”

“That man has impeccable timing.” Sam rolls his eyes and stands up, “Yo, Colby. Up here, man.”

“Oh good, okay.” He walks in, “When do you plan on leaving? Like what day?”

“I booked the hotel rooms a day in advance, so we’ll get there on Wednesday and then your show is Thursday and then Friday we can either come back or so whatever.” You look up at him, “Why?”

“Because I was doing research and they have this bar that just overall looks like a sick experience.” Colby shows you and Sam his phone, “I figured we could do that Friday night?”

“I’ve heard about this place. We definitely have to go.” Sam nods, “Are you up for it?”

You nod, “Yeah. I’m down for it.”

——

The days leading up to leaving were busy. Everyone was around everyone. You had a celebration dinner, people were coming over, to talk about the upcoming show.

People were even talking about how great of a person you were for Sam and Colby.

It was, overwhelming at times, but fully worth it.

“You still scared of flying?” Sam teases as he nudges your arm. You scoff, “Please, with the amount of planes I’ve been on with you guys, that fear is well over conquered.”

“We do fly a lot.” Sam chuckles and you look out the plane window, “At least it’s a short flight.”

He nods, “kinda wish it was longer.” He shrugs, “I don’t know. I like flying.”

You smile slightly and lean back. The rest of the flight was Sam picking on Colby, who is sat in front of you, and small talk.

Mainly about the show coming up. Sam’s nerves, your nerves. Everything but what you wanted to talk about most.

Once you’ve landed and get to the hotel, you make your way up to the rooms, two in one, Sam and Colby in the other, and then you in your room.

You sit down, letting out a sigh as you lay back.

Your mind swirls around the thought of Sam, mainly wondering if you should just push the idea of anything happening between the two of you away or if you should jump on it.

You sit up, making up your mind right then and there.

You walk over to your door, pulling it open and you stop.

“Hey I was just-“

Sam cuts you off, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” You move out of the way and he walks in, “I haven’t..” he turns around as you close the door, “.. been fully honest with you.”

You look down, “I know the feelings.”

Sam walks over, cupping your cheeks. He looks into your eyes and takes a deep breath, “You are the person who has been keeping me going. You, y/n..” he smiles, “You feel more like home than everywhere I have been and I just..”

“I have loved you since we were children, even before I knew what love was, Sam.”

“I can’t do anything with thinking about you, fuck. I think I love you a little bit more each day.” His eyes move between your lips and your eyes, “to spend life with you..” he chuckles, his thumb rubbing over your cheek, “..that’s my childhood dream and the more time I spend with you, the deeper I fall.”

Your hands slide up to his face as you nod, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Your lips meet and he pulls you closer, “I couldn’t be with someone else, knowing you were right here.” He leans back, “I just must have been stuck on thinking it wouldn’t have worked out.”

“You said it first, I know you better than anyone and same goes for you.” You run your hand through his hair and he smirks, “Yeah, we just have that special connection don’t we.”

“We have somethin’ special.” You smile, leaning in to peck his lips again, “So I take it.. Colby is getting his own room?”

“Yeah, that’s what I came to talk to you about.” Sam laughs, “Colby said that if I didn’t tell you he was going to, and I think it would have been better if I just had the guys to do it myself.”

“It was.” You smile, “Definitely was.” You wrap your arms around him and he holds you tight, “I promise, I’m never letting go.”

“You haven’t let go, all these years and I’m still here.” You smile against his chest, “I really don’t want my life to be any different.”

“Really? You wouldn’t change anything?” Sam glances down at you and you look up at him, “I mean..” you laugh slightly, “How about you ask me that, after a nap?”

He nods, “you read my mind.” He smiles and pulls you with him to the bed. You lay down with him and take a deep breath, “Sorry I haven’t said anything either.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t do that, baby.” He kisses your head, “we’re here now.”

You smile at the name, “Yeah baby.” You look up at him, “We’re here now.”

He pulls you in closer, his legs hooking over yours to hold you closer, “I’ve stayed awake at night fighting the urge to just come and cuddle you.”

“You should have just given in.” You smirk and he starts babbling, “I didn’t.. I wasn’t sure if you-“

“Sam.” You lift your head, “I know, I know.”

He laughs and dips his head down to kiss you, “I regret the time I lost, not being able to hold you like this.” You nuzzle your face into his neck, just breathing him in, “It’s fine, Sam. We have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

He kisses your head, “get some sleep. Colby’s got a list of plans for us for these next few days.”

You laugh, “Of course he does.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thank you so much for reading! I love you all so much! See you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #sam Golbach #sam Golbach fluff #sam Golbach angst #angsty #angst #sam Golbach x reader #sam Golbach x you #sam Golbach x y/n #sam Golbach one shot #sam Golbach fluff one shot #fluff Sam Golbach #sam golbach fanfic #sam Golbach fanfiction #sam Golbach xplr #xplr fluff #xplr Sam Golbach #thank you for reading I love you all

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hannie-dul-set · 4 months ago

Text

나비 / NABI — TWO.

SYNOPSIS. in which you’re trying your damned best to willfully ignore your feelings for your friend of over twenty years, but— as always— life seems to have a different plan paved out for you.

PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment) to lovers, romance, humor, hurt/comfort but more on comfort, coming of age, slowburn, college! au, “it’s always been you” trope, pining, tons of denial, beomgyu is the only man ever, featuring a large ensemble of idols from various groups. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, rumors as a plot device, mentions of sex, a few minor injuries, hospital scare, bullying. WORD COUNT. 12k (out of 40k).

NOTE. kachow, it’s out. i’ll cut the yapping short this time HAHAHAH but please please please let me know your thoughts on this work especially if you enjoyed it!!! thank you!!!

모기 / MOGI — ONE — TWO — THREE

#2: YOU STILL DON’T LIKE HIM FOR FORCING YOU TO SWALLOW SO MUCH OF YOUR PRIDE. Upon returning to campus for the second semester, you’re smacked square in the face with a second wave of rumors. As if the ones that plagued you at the latter part of last semester weren’t enough to drive you insane.

The bigger problem with second waves is that the onslaught just becomes marginally worse. Apparently Choi Beomgyu was caught in the act hooking up with a girl at Jung Sungchan’s party. Apparently it was the same girl he was seen coming home with the previous semester. And apparently he got a black eye after hearing someone talk shit about said girl.

You’re speechless. It’s seriously beyond you how gossip snowballs into high hell like this. If the entire sphere of humanity directs their imaginations to more productive things, climate change might not be a problem anymore. Still, humanity is bound to be stupid, and expecting people to be reasonable will only lead to disappointment. You had to assure Sungchan three times that no— you did not fuck on his parents’ bed. What the hell does he think of you?

“I keep telling everyone you two weren’t having sex!” screams Minjeong in the middle of the hallway on the way to class. “I was literally right there!”

You catch some eyes pointed at your direction as you two pass through. “Yeah, maybe you should stop before people start construing it as a threesome.”

Usually, this would bother you. But after living your entire life being concerned about what other people think of you, it starts to get dull and tiresome. You’re pretty shocked to find yourself so unbothered, and you’re not getting a lot of attention anyway the moment you and Minjeong enter the lecture hall and find yourselves some seats.

That is, until Choi Beomgyu also walks into the hall, sees you, and immediately darts over.

You can literally feel the ten million eyes swooping back and forth between him and you. He stops right in front of your table, arms crossed, frowning. You look up and wish he gets on with it already.

“You didn’t tell me you’re taking this class.”

“You didn’t either,” you snark back.

He huffs. “Touche.”

You sneer. “Get away from my view.”

“Hey, dude, wait up!”

Your attention gets ripped away from each other by the voice of Heeseung. He’s panting and jogging up to your area, Jeongin trailing behind him, then lands a hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder before he looks down and notices you.

“Oh, hey,” he greets. “No wonder he was in such a hurry.”

“Hi, Jeongin,” you greet Jeongin who still flinches whenever you look at him for a little too long. “Hello, bane of my existence.”

Heeseung lets your insult fly above his head. “Hey, friend. Heard you had fun at Sungchan’s party the other week.” Emphasis on the fun. With a wiggle of his brows. You want to bonk him with your water bottle, but your attempt at an assault gets refrained by a boisterous voice.

“Obviously, everyone had fun! It was a sick fucking party!”

You’re physically wobbled by Sungchan suddenly sliding into the seat next to yours. “It wasn’t fun when we had to help you clean up,” snides Minjeong. You notice Beomgyu eyeing your friend to your left as he reaches out an arm behind you, resting on the top of your chair.

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Sungchan pesters, then looks up, noticing the three other boys loitering in front of you. “Oh, hey, dudes,” he says. There’s a pause. Sungchan looks at Beomgyu, then you, then abruptly jerks his arm off the backrest of your seat. “Oh. Oh, shit! Sorry you can sit here—”

Sungchan flinches out of the chair next to you until Beomgyu stops him with a smile. “Why would you give me your seat?” Sungchan freezes. Then Beomgyu slides out the chair right in front of your table, a scratching noise on the tiles, and sets himself down. You hear Heeseung go ‘ooooh, drama,” before sitting next to Beomgyu, followed by Jeongin. Beomgyu tips his chair back, turns around, and then taps on the pencil case you’ve set out on your table. He bats his eyes. He gives you a cute (blegh) smile.

“Ugh.” You dig into the case and hand him an extra pen.

“Thank you,” he happily hums and turns back around.

“Whoa, did I just witness telepathy?” says Sungchan, mouth open.

“I guess when you’re in love you can just read each other’s mind—ack!” You hear a rattle. Beomgyu kicks the leg of Heeseung’s seat and the former falls dramatically to the ground. You snort. Heeseung attempts to retaliate but the arrival of your professor, Prof Ma, forces him to behave.

“Good morning, everyone.”

The minutes go by slowly. It’s syllabus week, so most of the period is spent by Professor Ma giving you an introduction to the course outline, grading system, requirements and projects, the works— of which includes two group assignments for both the mid and final term, eliciting a chorus of groans from the class. He decides to give the first project in advance for early preparation. At least he’s letting you pick your own members. Sort of.

“Work with the people around you. No need to get up to form your groups.”

You look at Minjeong and Sungchan. Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Jeongin turn around, facing you three. You stifle a sigh. Choi Beomgyu plagues you wherever you go.

“I guess the six of us are working together!”

Sungchan’s way too enthusiastic about this. Heesung takes the project sheet from Prof Ma and returns to your circle, containing the instructions, guidelines, and topics for the project. It’s due two weeks before midterms and there will be a presentation the week after. Minjeong speaks up. “There’s three parts, so I guess we’ll work on each in pairs.”

“We’ll take the first part,” you say, almost automatically. Five pairs of eyes land on your. Four, actually, because Beomgyu is already scribbling your names next to each other on the guide sheet under the first roman numeral.

Heeseung chortles out a giggle. “Jeongin, do you wanna work with me?”

“Wait, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Minjeong laments, shaking her head with a hand on your back. You want to eat your words. It just came out naturally since for every group or paired project throughout highschool, you and Beomgyu have always worked together since it’s convenient. Your schedules are nearly identical, your houses are next to each other— it’s just logical. You’ve never thought about it at all until Lee Heeseung’s stupid, insinuating reaction.

Class is dismissed. A few people approach Beomgyu, asking if he has a group, and he apologizes saying that he does.

You schedule a meeting sometime next week to plan the assignment before parting ways to your respective classes, schedules, and appointments. It’s the same routine for a while— save for some instances where you catch people you don’t even know looking at you for a little too long, glancing at you from afar in between inaudible conversations, and of course, the handful of moments where they’d come up to you just to ask if you’re dating Choi Beomgyu.

Surprisingly, you haven’t blown up. Beomgyu himself has started to eye you suspiciously due to your lack of reaction, save for the polite smile and ‘no, I’m not,’ combo you’d always give as a response. Maybe you’d just stopped caring. Beomgyu says he can’t wait until you inevitably explode. Heeseung hasn’t stopped finding enjoyment in teasing the living hell out of you though.

“Your boyfriend isn’t driving you home today?” asks Heeseung with a grin that you’re starting to get sick of seeing upon leaving your last class for the day, three weeks after the start of the semester.

Usually, Beomgyu would be found outside your classroom around this time, lugging you off to his car for another free ride home whenever it works for him. Doesn’t help the rumors at all, you know. Heeseung making comments about it each time without fail is also greatly unhelpful.

“He’s having dinner with his seniors,” you tell him, already having given up.

“Poor you.”

“I can get home by myself,” you spit, using the notebook and stack of printouts you’re carrying to smack him on the ass. He runs off to the coding club after very politely messing up your hair. “Go to hell!”

“See you tomorrow!”

He’s gone, finally. You release a sigh and realign the stack of notes in your hands, about to bring it up to your chest until someone darts by— passing beside you with a bump on your shoulder, and the papers, notebook, and copies stumble out of your arms and onto the floor. “Hey!” you snap your head back, catching only the silhouette of the individual from behind and as you kneel down to pat around for your things. It’s annoying, but you let it go. You let it go with a fruitful amount of profanities sputtering from your mouth while you restack the papers.

One piece of paper managed to fly away a bit farther away. You grunt and pull yourself off the floor. Your eyes don’t leave the sheet. You watch as it gets picked up from the ground and gets handed over to you, eyes trailing further up to meet the face of a guy you don’t really recognize.

“Oh,” you release. “Thanks a lot.”

“No problem. Some people really need to watch where they’re going.” He smiles. You nod and ready to walk past, but much to your surprise, you hear him utter your name. “That’s you, right?”

Huh. You try to get a better look of the guy’s face, trying to grasp a hint of recollection of who he could be, and if you actually know him, but nothing rings a bell. Zilch. “Yeah? How’d you know me?”

“I, uh—” The hand he once used to pick up your things disappears to the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. “I saw you at Sungchan’s party the other week. For, like, five seconds because I never got to see you again, so I asked around about you.”

You’re taken aback. Whoa. This is new. This is very new. When was the last time a guy has shown interest in you? You can’t fucking recall because that’s never ever happened before— not when there’s the false fact that you’re dating Choi Beomgyu perpetually fluttering around you despite your countless attempts to swat it away. You feel your heart jog a little quicker, the buzzing on your fingertips making your senses feel a lot duller. It’s either he doesn’t believe in the rumors, or he just doesn’t give a fuck about them.

Well. It doesn’t even matter because those rumors aren’t true.

“Ah, well I’m not really surprised. I was holed up in a room the entire time. Parties aren’t my thing,” you hum. “What’s your name again?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he laughed. “Jang Seung. First name Seung, last name Jang.”

“Oh! I don’t think I’ve met someone with a one-syllable name before.”

He smiles. “Well, I’m honored to be the first.”

It doesn’t ring a bell, really. That means Jang Seung’s name hasn’t fallen out of Choi Beomgyu’s big mouth before whenever he endlessly yaps about people you barely even know. You thank Seung one more time before heading off to class. It’s not the last time you meet him. You bump into him at the cafeteria a few days later, then the library the week after that. Somehow, you ended up exchanging numbers along the way. He’s an economics major, second-year, but you’re the same age so honorifics were dropped pretty quickly. And before you knew it— you and Seung have started texting casually on the daily.

“Hey!”

Your eyes snap up from your phone. You see Beomgyu snapping his fingers right in front of your face.

“Focus,” he glares, an impatient tap on the pile of textbooks you borrowed from the reference section for your group project. It’s been three weeks since the assignment was given out. You and Beomgyu have decided to do your initial research at Horangnabi today. “If you get distracted again, I’m confiscating your phone.”

“Sorry.” You tamp your phone face-down onto the table.

There’s a sneer on Beomgyu’s face. You raise a brow, pulling your laptop closer to you. He scoffs and starts flipping through the pages of one of the books, and at that moment Julie walks up to your table with a tray in her hands. “A treat for two hard working kids,” she hums, setting two drinks down onto the table— a matcha latte for you and an iced americano for him.

You smile at her. “Thanks, seon—”

“Hard working my ass.” Beomgyu snatches your drink before you can even lift it up, sliding it down to his side of the table with a very disappointed look on his face. “Noona, she’s been glued to her phone the entire time instead of working. I don’t think she deserves a free drink.”

“Leave me alone,” you simmer back. “This is my first shot at romance ever since you’ve started unintentionally sabotaging my love life for the past twenty years.”

“Twenty years? Are you saying you’ve been boy crazy since we were toddlers?”

“Don’t twist my words, fuckface.”

“Nyenye, don’t twist my word—”

Clap!

“Okay,” Julie interrupts, a resounding sound coming from her colliding palms. You and Beomgyu shut your mouths and cock your heads at her. “Settle that problem between yourselves, alrighty? Beomgyu, give her her drink back. Ring me up if you want any snacks.”

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue, sliding your latte back to you. “What was that guy’s name again?”

You catch the plastic cup with your hands and bring the straw to your lips. “Jang Seung.”

A sound scratches out of his throat. Beomgyu takes a sip from his coffee while looking to the side. “I don’t know him.”

“I thought so,” you hum in response. “Pretty surprising considering your web of connections. He doesn’t seem to believe in all the gossip surrounding us, either.”

He shakes the drink in his hand, ice clicking against themselves with a sour look on his face. Is he actually drinking lemonade or some shit? you stifle a light laugh. “Either he doesn’t believe it, or he just doesn’t mind fucking around with a girl who’s in a relationship.”

“But we’re not,” you say.

“Yeah. Duh. But everyone else thinks we are,” he answers. “You don’t even know him that well. Who’s to say he doesn’t believe them just because he’s trying to get close to you.”

Julie comes by again with a plate of salted fries. You two thank her. The perks of being friends with the staff here. “Stop overreacting,” you tell him, helping yourself to a few bites. “I haven’t completely gotten over my trauma with Lim Jimin yet so I’m not raising my hopes too high up. Watch Seung ask me for tips on how to become friends with you in three days time.”

“Just shut up and start working,” he grunts, shoving even more fries into your mouth to stop you from talking any further. You muffle out a swear. Seriously, why can’t this guy be normal?

Anyhow, you finish your session at the cafe, still pretty confident about your conjecture on Jang Seung’s real intentions with you.

But after three weeks instead of three days, you’re delightfully proven wrong.

“Holy shit.”

You, Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Minjeong are in the living room of your apartment. The four of you had been working on your project until thirty minutes ago. You’ve been working since one in the afternoon. It’s almost eight in the evening right now and Jeongin and Sungchan had already left early. Now you’re all just withering on the floor. Minjeong’s laying down on your lap, phone hovering above her face. Heeseung and Beomgyu had picked up a guitar from his apartment to fill the tired silence.

That is until they heard your very eloquent remark. Beomgyu stops strumming. “What?” he asks.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, gaping at your phone. “Seung just asked me out on a date.”

Minjeong jerks off of your lap with a shriek. “What?!”

“Look!”

You shove your phone into her face. The bluelight blinds her eyes but they remain wide and frantically open. Heeseung’s eyes flit over from you, to Beomgyu, then back to you. “Wow, I’d never ask someone out over the phone. Right, Beom?” He gets ignored because Minjeong lets out another squeal and tosses your phone aside.

“Tomorrow! You’re going on a date tomorrow!” she jumps at you. “Do you need help getting ready?”

“Hey,” Beomgyu sets his guitar down on the floor, looking at you. “Did you two forget? We still have to finalize our presentation tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say, retrieving your phone from the ground. “I’m gonna schedule the date after that.”

Minjeong tells him to unknot his undies and let you live a little, messing with the documents scattered all around you, and you join her after shooting Seung a reply, [sounds good. see you tomorrow 🙂]. Heeseung has taken ownership of the guitar and is now strumming some melodies. Beomgyu is still grumpy. His grumpiness culminates into the question— “How much do you actually like the guy?”

This catches Heeseung and Minjeong’s attention. Their ears perk up, waiting for your response. “Well.” You take your nose out of a reference sheet. “He’s fun to talk to. And he doesn’t look half bad. Other than that, I don’t think I have any strong feelings for him, you know. But that could change. I don’t know.”

Minjeong hums in response. “Yeah, don’t overthink it. Just go have fun, girl. It’s not a big deal,” she says, the last part particularly directed to Beomgyu, who just sticks his tongue out at her.

“That’s the plan,” you say, leaning back against the couch seat. “I’ve never gone on a date before because everyone thinks I’m already dating you.” That was also directed to Beomgyu. He makes a complaint that he’s being ganged up on. A few more back and forths go down with Heeseung plucking arpeggios as background music. It’s a mess.

“Turn on your location, alright?”

“Yes.”

“And don’t go with him if he wants to take you to his place or anywhere that isn’t public.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And make sure to call whenever—”

“Dude, you’re not her mom,” Minjeong cuts him off. You snort. “She can take care of herself.”

“She’s never been on a date before! Can’t I be worried?!” Beomgyu interjects, offended. “What if she dies? What if she trips on the stairs on the way and dies before she can even experience her first date?”

“Fuck you, as if you’ve been on a date before,” you retort.

Beomgyu lets out a huff, mouth twitching from incredulity. “For your information, I have,” he says proudly. “Keep up, dipshit."

“You? As if.”

“I can attest to that,” Heeseung jumps in. “But it was way before I found out you two were friends though. We went on a double date with some girls from tourism. The girl swore he was her soulmate after a cup of coffee and Beomgyu ghosted her.”

This is the first time you’re hearing about this. You’re feeling betrayed and Beomgyu’s arrogance suddenly shifts to guilt. “Don’t give me that look. We weren’t on speaking terms then. Don’t you dare get upset over this.”

“Soulmate, huh?” Minjeong muses. “Do you guys believe in soulmates?”

There’s a pause. “That came from fucking nowhere,” Beomgyu says.

“If they exist, then I hope mine hurries the hell up,” says Heeseung. Right. He got dumped by the girl from computer science a while ago. He says he’s already healed but just yesterday he borrowed your phone just to see her Instagram stories that are now hidden from him. You pity him. “Fuck, I need to start dating again.”

“No, you don’t. You need to fucking get over her,” you tell him before shifting your attention to Minjeong. “I’ve never really thought about the idea of soulmates. I don’t know, it just seems like a far-fetched idea to me.”

“Boring,” provokes Beomgyu from across the coffee table. “You really don’t think there’s someone out there destined for you? Someone who understands you without even trying, someone who connects with you so deeply and in one click, you just know it’s going to be them for eternity?”

There’s a palpable silence. Beomgyu notices this. He clears his throat and picks up the printout in front of him, fumbling through the pages with a click of his tongue.

“No wonder you’re still single. There’s not one romance bone in your body.”

Minjeong stares at him. “That was...out of character.”

“This guy’s actually a hopeless romantic,” Heeseung slides in. “You should hear all the songs he plays and sings in the clubroom. Dude thinks he’s in a coming of age—”

“Hey, why don’t you shut the fuck up?”

A fight(?) on the couch ensues. It’s Beomgyu and Heeseung wrestling like toddlers while you and Minjeong start working on your project again. Waiting for your laptop to start up, your eyes catch a buzzing phone on the table, sitting right next to a coffee mug. It’s not your phone. The caller ID says Ugly Oaf. “Beomgyu,” you call out. “Your brother is calling.”

You hear a yelp from a couch. “Can you answer?” Beomgyu says, grunting. “I’m kind of— ow! I’m kind of busy here.”

Children. They’re both children. You tap on the phone and put the device to your ears. “Hyung,” you greet. Yes, you call his brother hyung. You’ve known their family since you were a child and since you kept hearing Choi Beomgyu call his brother hyung as a toddler, you thought that was the appropriate term to call him too. He doesn’t mind. Anything else sounds awkward too so you’ve just kept calling him that until now. “Oh, yes he’s here. Give me a sec. Choi Beomgyu!”

Your eyes flit up to the couch. Your friend is being suffocated by Heeseung while he yells out surrenders.

“Beomgyu, he wants you on the phone.”

“Ugh. Hey, get the fuck off me.”

“Another win for the Heemeister!”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes at him as he trudges off the couch, walking over to you with an outstretched hand, and you pass the phone to him. “Hyung,” he starts, his free hand on his hip. You stifle a snort and busy yourself with a word document, half-listening to their conversation. “What do you want? Why couldn’t you just text—”

He cuts himself off and you stop typing. You look up to see Beomgyu standing near you, eyes wide and staring into space.

His other hand falls to his side.

“What?”

There’s a crack and a strain in his voice.

“H—hyung, what are you saying?”

You shut your laptop and race to your feet. “Beomgyu” you say, marching up to him. “Beomgyu, what did your brother tell you?” You notice his hands are shaking— trembling fingers drop his phone face-up on the ground and you see that the call has ended. Your gaze travels back to Beomgyu. His eyes are damp. You pull him closer by the arm and fix your hands on the sides of his shoulders. “Beomgyu, what’s wrong?”

“M—my mom,” he stammers out. “He—he says she’s in the hospital, why would she be in the hospital, why—”

From the corner of your eyes, you can see Heeseung jolting straight up and Minjeong looking up at the both of you. You bite down your lip. You can hear your heart inside your ears. “Beomgyu,” you say, trying to quell the tremor in your voice. His breathing is already short, his eyes are blinking down rapidly to chase away the stinging tears. You can’t start panicking too. “Did hyung say anything else? What happened? Can you tell me?”

“I—I don’t know, I’m not— I’m not sure, I—”

Oh no. Oh no, this isn’t good. You leave for a moment, rushing to your room to grab two jackets— one you drape over Beomgyu, the other you wear for yourself to stuff your wallet and keys into. “Hey, guys,” you say, securing the coat around his neck. “Sorry, I think we need to cut this session short. Do you mind cleaning up here?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll take care of it,” answers Heeseung.

“Give us an update, okay?” adds Minjeong. You give them a nod and a smile.

You grab onto Beomgyu’s sleeve and start dragging him out of your building, the cold, late evening air hitting your cheeks as you rush out into the sidewalk, just in time for a taxi to show up from the far end of the road, and you hold your arm out to hail it. You knock on the window and the driver rolls it down. “Sir, do you think you can take us to Daegu?”

“Daegu? This late?” he says. You press your lips together. You turn your head and see Beomgyu’s expression. You let go of your drip from his sleeve, dropping it down to give his hand a squeeze.

“It’s an emergency.”

“All right. It’s not gonna be cheap, though.”

“That’s alright. Thank you!”

The entire ride to Daegu, Beomgyu is squeezing your hand. He hasn’t said a word. Red lights from the streets burn into the side of his face. Then white. Then it’s dark again. “It’s gonna be fine,” you tell him. He just holds you even tighter. You feel like shit. You can’t even call his brother or his parents or yours because your phones were left behind at your place, and it’s too late to go back for them now.

You arrive at Daegu by eleven o’clock. The moment the cab pulls up at the district hospital, Beomgyu rushes out and runs inside. You pay the fare, thank the driver before catching up to him. The scent of citrus and bleach hits your senses. He’s stuck at the front desk, asking for his mother’s room. “Fourth floor. Ward 23,” says the receptionist. Beomgyu wastes no time in sprinting into a still-open elevator before it could close, tugging you along with him.

He’s antsy all throughout the ride. The moment you land on the fourth floor, he rushes out immediately upon the opening of the doors. You apologize to people he shoved past through, squeezing your way out to see Beomgyu’s back racing down the hallway, single mindedly running to the end of it where you see his dad pushing his mother on a wheelchair, about to enter one of the wards.

“Mom!” Beomgyu yells out. You break into a light jog and head into the same direction.

It’s been a while since you’ve last seen his parents. A million thoughts bombard your head. You yourself are pretty shocked to see his mother in a wheelchair— you can’t imagine what’s going on inside his head as you witness his eyes shake, lips quiver when his steps slow down, walking up to them.

“Oh, dear,” his mom says with an exhale, sounding stressed for some reason. His dad turns the wheelchair to face the hallway instead of the door. “Why are you here?!”

Beomgyu knits his brows. “Hyung told me you were hospitalized! Why wouldn’t I be here?!”

His mom lets out a sigh. She massages her temples. “This is why I told him not to tell you.”

“Mom is fine, son,” his dead assures. “She just fell a little.”

This isn’t received well by Beomgyu. “She’s in a wheelchair!” he exclaims.

And right then, his mom stands up. She gets off the wheelchair, a tired look on her face. Oh. Oh, wow. Beomgyu was about to add something, but his mouth is now left hanging open. There’s a moment of silence, until his mom decides to break it. “I just wanted to try it out,” she says. “Honey, I’m fine.”

The tension quickly fizzles out. Beomgyu is still aghast and confused and conflicted. His dad ushers you all into the ward, in which Beomgyu forces his mother to rest in the bed instead of going out and about before things finally get explained. His mom was prepping for dinner, and she fell from a chair while reaching for something far up in the cabinet. They just went to the hospital to get a check-up just in case. Luckily, nothing is broken, but the doctor recommended for her to be admitted overnight for further observation.

His dad called his brother to explain why Choi Beomgyu was freaking out so much too. Apparently hyung said the same things but just made the unfortunate choice by prefacing it with, “mom is in the hospital,” causing Beomgyu’s ears to go out of order upon hearing that.

Beomgyu is still frowning. He’s sitting petulantly beside the hospital bed. “Oh, my sweet baby bear,” his mom says. “I thought you were all grown up. Turns out you’re still a child.”

“I was scared! Hyung should’ve explained better!”

“You didn’t give him the chance,” she sighs. Then, her eyes flit up, seeing you.”Hi, sweetheart. How have you been? I’m sorry for the late greeting. This kid is such a handful.”

You smile at her. “It’s good to see you’re all right, auntie.”

“Do your parents know that you’re here?” she asks. You tell her no, because you left your phones back home in the rush to get here, and she gives Beomgyu a side eye because of that. He simply grumbles and continues twiddling with the blanket. “Use my phone. It’s on the side table. You should give them a call now.”

Beomgyu passes the phone to you. It unlocks without a passcode. “Thanks, auntie.”

She smiles. “Oh, and can you ask your parents if Beomgyu can stay at your place for the night?”

“What?” he starts. “What do you mean? I’m staying here.”

“Your dad’s already staying with me. I’m afraid I’d suffocate with the both of you hovering around me.”

“Why are you trying to kick me out?”

You give them some privacy to talk (read: bicker). It’s already late in the night, so the hallway is quiet but brightly illuminated. The phone rings in your ears as you out into the dark, blanketed sky through the window. There’s a click and you hear your dad at the end of the line.

The conversation lasts for a while, and you find that you’ve somehow found yourself in the open courtyard behind the hospital building after you’ve finished explaining everything to your dad and catching up for a bit. He’s gonna pick you two up in a few minutes. You let yourself simmer in the cold air for a few more moments before getting back inside.

Minjeong asked you to update them earlier, but you can’t because you don’t have your phone. They’ve probably found out that you left it behind already, but that’s not the problem. Seung must’ve texted you about the date plans already and you’re unintentionally ignoring him right now. But, oh well. You’ll reply tomorrow when you get back to Seoul.

“Auntie, thanks for lending me your phone. Dad said yes. He’s gonna arrive in a—”

You pause. Upon returning to his mom’s corner in the ward, you see Beomgyu fast asleep on the same spot he was in earlier. His head is resting on the bed, eyes fluttered shut while holding his mom’s hand. The lights have dimmed. You see auntie smiling at him. “He’s really still a child.”

“The shock really hit him,” you say, quietly setting the phone back on the table. “He was crying a lot on the way here.”

She hums, then looks up at you. “Can you help me pry him off?”

You laugh. Waking up Beomgyu is always a task. You get near and start shaking him. “Hey. Hey, dip— I mean, Beomgyu. Wake up.” You hear him let out a groan and he nuzzles himself further into the blanket. You get an idea. “Choi Beomgyu, do you remember the time you started a pretty fun lightshow in your kitch—”

“I’m up, I’m up,” he groans, still groggy. He does sit up, but he’s very much still trying to start up his brain. His joints are creaking. He holds onto your arm to help him stand up, brows knitted together as he rubs his eyes.

“We’ll get going now, auntie. Get well soon.”

She smiles at you. “Thank you for alway taking care of him.”

You feel a swell of warmth in your chest. You nod, mirroring her smile before hauling a sleepy Beomgyu out the ward. The moment you’re out into the hallway, the urge to smack his face awake nearly overtakes you, but you decide against it. Instead, you wring your arms together, lugging him into the elevator so he doesn’t trip over his own feet.

During the elevator ride, you feel him pile all of his weight onto you, his cheek resting on the side-top of your head. From the reflection, you can see that his eyes are barely open, slowly closing and barely opening again. You breathe out a laugh. The elevator opens. You walk out into the lobby and out the hospital, where you see your dad waiting by the driveway.

It’s a quick drive home. It would be nice to stop by the playground, but the guy you’re with in the backseat right now is pretty much out of commission. Poor boy must’ve been exhausted from the scare.

Beomgyu finally wakes up a bit more upon reaching the building. He mumbles a thank you to your dad, and your dad simply smiles and gives him a pat on the back while ushering him up the stairs. There’s already an extra change of sleeping clothes on the living room table. Your dad tells you to take care of him before disappearing off into his room.

“Go take a shower, stinky,” you tell him. He grunts and snatches the clothes from you anyway. While he’s in the bathroom, you set up the sofa bed in the living room for him to sleep on, pushing the coffee table away, grabbing some extra pillows and blankets from your room, knees sinking into the mattress as you pat down the sheets. You hear the bathroom door creak open. “Hey, I couldn’t find any other extra blankets except for these Ninja Turtle ones, so I hope you don’t mind—”

The words fizzle out from your throat upon seeing Beomgyu walk into the living area. His hair is still damp, clothes a little too big for him, and his eyes are evidently puffy. You shake your head, a light laugh escaping your lips. What a crybaby, but then again, if you heard the same news— the news that your mother got hospitalized out of the blue, with no discernable explanation, you’re not confident enough to say that you won’t react the same way as he did.

You’d also probably start bawling. And you’re pretty sure Beomgyu would do the same things you’d done tonight too.

He’s still standing there, right in the middle of the open mouth of the short hallway that he’d just emerged from. You let the blanket fall to the floor to stretch out your arms. “Come here,” you say. Footsteps pad down the wooden floor. Beomgyu sinks himself into you, cold skin fresh from the shower melting into the warmth of yours as you fall back into the mattress with a thud.

You two stay like this for a while, the sound of quiet nights lingering in the air. “Your mom will be fine,” you tell him, drawing circles on his back.

“Mhm,” he mumbles into your hair.

“You’re such a crybaby.” He responds with an annoyed grunt, but his hold on your remains firm. “This is the second time I’ve seen you cry.”

“Shut up,” he rasps, finally pulling away just enough for you to see his face, settling into the spot next to you instead. You roll over to look at him. His left arm is wedged in between your elbow and torso, the other gently holding onto your forearm as his damp hair hovers over his eyes. You have your hands pressed to your chest, feeling each thump on your knuckles for each second your eyes linger on his face. Two thumps. Three. Since when did you get this close?

Your throat is dry, but you can’t swallow. Your eyes flit down. “Hey,” he says. You can feel his breath on your lips. “Thanks.”

The world stops for a moment.

You offer him a smile before pulling yourself up. The air returns to your lungs. You toss a pillow at him before getting back on your feet. “Get some sleep, crybaby. We gotta be up early for class tomorrow.”

That’s when you finally retreat to your old bedroom to get a maximum of four hours of sleep. You’re pretty sure you weren’t even able to get a single hour in because the next thing you know, the sunrise is already leaking into your bedroom, prompting you to get up and retrieve from the drying your clothes from last night. You make a quick egg and bacon breakfast before heading out, leaving some for your parents, and you two stop by the hospital once more before finally leaving for Seoul at seven-thirty.

“Doesn’t this remind you of high school?” Beomgyu muses while you two hang on to your dear lives standing in the bus commute to the station.

“Yeah. I don’t ever wanna go back.”

He laughs at that. You smile. He’s finally feeling like himself again. The trip back to Seoul takes ages and you two have no time to go back to your apartment, so you decide to head straight to campus instead to make it to your first class.

That was a mistake though. The moment you and he walk into the lecture hall— together— Jung Sungchan makes the astute observation that you two are wearing the same clothes from yesterday. Heeseung knows what happened. He was fucking there, but starts teasing you about it anyway. It’s like he thrives off of your despair.

You tell them to shut the fuck up and take your seat, borrowing a pen from Minjeong who asks you about what happened. In your defense, Beomgyu obviously didn’t bring his key to their Daegu house, and you brought all of your nicer clothes here in Seoul. So unless you wanted to wear your atrocious high school fashion sense to uni, you had no choice but to rewear your outfit from yesterday. And, by the way, you washed them! They were in the dryer overnight!

That doesn’t matter to the people around you though. Because it’s almost standard protocol that whatever’s going on with Choi Beomgyu spreads like wildfire within campus grounds. Funny enough, this isn’t the first groundless gossip that you and him are fucking. But you’re less angry this time and just more of just being simply tired of this kind of shit.

You don’t know how well Beomgyu is taking it though. Normally, you can read his face like an open book, but this time you’re not quite sure.

At the end of your class, you quickly rushed off to your apartment while Beomgyu left to attend another class. “Can you bring me my phone when you get back?” he asked you before leaving.

“Sure. We still have to finalize our presentation this afternoon, right?”

“Yeah. See you later.”

The moment you arrive at your apartment, you immediately check your messages. The last text Seung sent you was at 11:37 p.m. [anyway, just tell me if you change your mind haha. no worries]. Ah, shit. You quickly type down an explanation for what happened last night, and that no, you’re not trying to call the date off while you wiggle into a new set of clothes. You leave again quickly after snatching Beomgyu’s phone from the counter. When you get back to campus again, the tick mark next to your text tells you that Seung has read your message. But he hasn’t replied.

Minjeong tells you that maybe he’s just busy. The afternoon rolls around and you’re walking with her and Sungchan to Horangnabi, and Seung still hasn’t replied, but you set that problem aside for now. Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Jeongin are already there by the time you three arrive. You toss Beomgyu his phone and take one of the available seats across from him.

“Prof Ma says only two people need to present,” you say. “Heeseung, can you do it?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Choi Beomgyu, you present too,” says Minjeong. “Use your people pleasing powers for something productive this time.”

He whines, but agrees anyway. While working on the PPT, you notice that he keeps glancing at you. You raise a brow. He says nothing and busies himself with something else, until 5:00 p.m. rolls around— an hour before your supposed date with Seung.

You haven’t told Beomgyu about probably getting ghosted yet because you don’t want him to fucking gloat and snark saying, ha! I told you he was bad news! Instead, you part ways from the group, make a stop back home to get dressed into prettier clothes and retouch your makeup, and shoot one last text to Seung before heading to the restaurant you two had agreed to have dinner at.

“Welcome!”

The sound of a mental clock is ticking inside your head. It’s thirty minutes past six. You’ve already ordered and eaten a meal, and Jang Seung is still nowhere in sight.

This whole situation feels like a shitty sense of deja vu. Your thoughts are verbalized when you see someone walk up to your table just when you’re about to leave. Of course. Who else would show up at your lowest if not Choi Beomgyu? “Wow,” he remarks, taking the liberty to drag the chair in front of you back, and he plops right down. “Deja vu much. Why do you always go on dates with shitty men? Are you cursed or something?”

“Shut up. Maybe you’re the harbinger of my bad luck actually,” you say. “I think he caught whiff of the rumors that we slept together last night. Gosh. Don’t people have anything better to talk about?”

There’s a look on his face. You can’t quite pinpoint what it means. Beomgyu lets out a scoff, tipping back and forth the empty glass on your table with a sneer. “If he was a decent enough person, he wouldn’t flake out on you just because of that,” he says, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “He’d ask you outright if the rumors were true instead of ghosting you like a douchebag.”

You laugh. “That’s true.”

He points his gaze at you. “You’re not sad?”

“No. I’m just a little miffed,” you say. Really. Surprisingly, you don’t feel like shit at all. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Mhm. I was having dinner with some friends, but I got a text from Sungchan that you got stood up again.”

Again. Ouch. No fucking wonder Sungchan messaged you earlier asking where you were. “I cleared up my schedule tonight,” you tell him, getting ready to get up. “Let’s hit the arcade. I need to release some stress.” Your anger gets received by the innocent moles on the whack machine. At least you got something in return— two cheap and shitty keychains, wherein one you end up hooking on the zipper of your bag later that night, the other one you give to Beomgyu as a thank you for yet again, swooping in to save the time you would’ve wasted, had you waited any longer for another failed date.

The only good thing that happens that week is that your group project went really well. Honestly, you had zero hopes from the beginning considering Choi Beomgyu, Lee Heeseung, and Jung Sungchan are notorious for not taking things seriously, but somehow, they’ve managed to prove you wrong. Prof Ma gave you a handful of compliments for the analysis. That’s another dose of helium to inflate Beomgyu’s and Heeseung’s already overly inflated heads.

“Great job,” Minjeong compliments them. Then they turn to you, expecting the same.

You sigh, rolling your eyes, but there’s a smile on your face. “I guess you two were better than I expected.”

Leaving the classroom, you have to split from your group because of a paper you need to submit to the faculty office. Minjeong hugs you goodbye and Beomgyu says he’ll be waiting for you at the parking lot. You hum and turn to the opposite end of the hallway. And that’s when you suddenly hear your name get called out the moment you pass by a group of three girls.

“Hey, you,” one of them hollers again. You spin your heels, a little confused, then point a finger to your chest. “Yeah. Come here for a sec.”

Yet again you’re hit with a distasteful sense of deja vu. Cautiously, you walk towards the group. Vaguely familiar faces. You think you’ve seen one of them before, but you’re not quite sure. They say nothing once you stop a few steps closer. The one in the middle looks you up and down. And then a laugh brushes past her lips, twitching into a bitter smile.

What the actual fuck. “I don’t get what he sees in you,” is all she says before walking away. Again, what the actual fuck.

The interaction lingers in the back of your mind until Choi Beomgyu texts you at two in the morning to join him at the nearby 90s themed diner just a few walks away from your apartment. You two share a rootbeer float with burgers and fries as a mini celebration for your successful presentation, he says. You squint at his face as he takes a bite from his burger. He mimics your squint, albeit his looks more confused and suspicious than investigative. “What?” he asks.

“We really need to do something about these rumors,” you start. Beomgyu simply lets out a sigh and sets his burger down while you tell him what happened earlier, and while you’re chattering on about your story, Beomgyu takes a single fry, dips it in the ice cream of your float, and reaches his arm out across the table to feed it to you. “Wasn’t she one of your friends? The one who—” you stop your rambling, looking down at the food offering in front of you.

Your gaze flits up. Gosh. This is why people think you’re dating.

Still, you open your mouth and let him feed you anyway. Beomgyu hums out a smile, satisfied and grabs a fry for himself. “So what do you wanna do?” he asks. “Are you gonna put some distance between us again? Ask me to act like I don’t know you.”

You kick him from underneath the table. He lets out a pained yelp.

“I know what I need to do,” you say, determined.

Beomgyu lifts his chin up in anticipation. There’s a hint of mockery in his tone. “What do you need to do?”

“I need to get a boyfriend.”

Then he starts choking. You toss him a napkin and he calls for a server for a glass of water. You wait until he finally recovers before you continue your piece. Beomgyu glugs down the entire glass and slams it down the table. “What kind of mental gymnastics are you pulling?” he asks. “I think you need to get your head checked.”

You ignore his insult. Instead, you push forward. “You’ve got a lot of friends. Set me up with one of them.”

Beomgyu’s face is flat. “No. No way.”

“C’mon!”

“Have you gotten over Jeong Seung, or whatever, ghosting you already? How can you hop onto a new guy so quickly? You know you can’t trust men nowadays.”

You click your tongue. “We weren’t even talking for that long, and I know you won’t set me up with a bad guy! Please? Do this for me, just once, and I won’t bring up something like this ever again.”

Choi Beomgyu looks like he’s judging you to the ends of the earth, but his lack of verbal response tells you he’s actually considering it, and he’s not quite happy about it. He lets out a grumble and slides up the wrinkled receipt you have on your table. Then starts scoring unintelligible marks on it with his index nail.

“What the hell are you doing?” you ask, craning your head forward.

“Listing down your candidates,” he says, and your eyes widen in pleasant surprise.

“Holy shit, I didn’t think you’d actually agree.” He grunts in response. You try your best to make out his shitty handwriting, but when you do manage to decipher one the names listed, you snatch the receipt from him and your face quickly contorts into disgust. You squint your eyes at the scribble to confirm you read it right. You are unfortunately proven correct. “Heeseung? Seriously?”

Beomgyu simply shrugs. “His compsci girl dumped him. It’s time for you to sweep him off his feet.”

“I’d rather kill myself, thank you. Have you forgotten he’s the reason why the rumors are as bad as they are?” you say, bringing the list closer to your face while your eyes quickly scan through them.

“How about Hyunjin hyung?” he asks. Oh, yeah. He’s definitely listed here.

“I make his heart race, but not for the good reasons,” you answer, and you reach the end of his stupid fucking list. “Wait a minute. Only your club buddies are in this. All of them are less than human. How dare you?”

He lets out a huff. “Even Hanbin?” Well. Hanbin is definitely better than all of them combined, for sure. “I thought you had eyes for him.”

That completely catches you off guard that your breath stutters a little. Yeah, Sung Hanbin has definitely proven himself as boyfriend material while you worked with him at Horangnabi, but you’re pretty sure he has something going on with Julie seonbae and you have no plans on being a third-party— not matter how desperate you are to just find a quick and easy date.

“Then, you thought wrong,” you retort. What even gave him that idea? “Anyway, nevermind. I realized that I’d rather not outsource my future boyfriend from you because none of your recommendations are good enough.”

He snorts, taking a sip from the float. “Boyfriends are definitely outsourced, sure.”

You snatch it from him before his lips can even touch the straw. “You’re so unsupportive. I’ll ask Minjeong to set me up on a blind date instead.”

Beomgyu wonders if you can even trust Minjeong’s eye for men considering that she didn’t even guess that Jang Seung was actually a jerk. You shoot him a glare. The coming morning, you actually do end up bumping into Seung again for the first time since he ghosted you. You walk up to him for a hello— for some closure maybe, but all he does is shove past you before you can even let a syllable out. Heeseung is with you when that happens. His mouth drops in outrage, head snapping back at Seung’s direction, and he almost starts marching after him. “Hey, what the fuck—”

“Leave it be.” You grab onto Heeseung’s arm, stopping him from causing a scene. “It’s not worth it. Let’s just head to class.”

“What a douche,” he huffs out, sending Seung one last glare drilled into the back of his head before matching your pace.

Minjeong pulls through with arranging you a date with a friend of a friend of a friend. She says he’s hot. You trust her judgment because, well, third time’s the charm, right? You’re headed to a newly opened board game cafe downtown five minutes later than scheduled because if you’re gonna get stood up again, you might as well waste five minutes less of your time. A text from Beomgyu alerts you the moment you lay your hands on the door— [i can’t swoop in this time once you get ghosted again. they won’t let me leave the clubroom 😢]. Once you get ghosted. Asshole. You don’t bother replying and head inside.

Much to your surprise, your date is already there, introducing himself as Song Eunseok and you do the same. Now, he seems nice and all— and holy shit he looks like he could be an actor— but the biting feeling that you’ve heard of him before is preventing you from feeling guilty. You order a light meal. Eunseok does the same and tries to make small talk in a light mood. Eunseok. Eunseok. Where the fuck did you hear that name from again?

“Ah!” you exclaim, preemptively dropping the dice on the snakes and ladders board. “Do you know Lee Heeseung by any chance?”

He looks surprised. “Oh, I do, actually. Are you friends—”

Then it hits him. And then his face grows pale. You lean back, arms crossed, something patronizing tugging on your gums that forms your mouth into a half-smile, riddled with incredulity and offense. Go on. Explain, your face says. This was the guy Heeseung set you up with last semester and ditched you. Of course you never have one normal, decent date. You’re actually cursed.

“Uh. Wow. Haha. What a coincidence.”

Beomgyu’s soulmate talk from the other day comes to mind. You’ve smuggled a blind date with this guy twice, which has to be a weird string of fate, right? It should be romantic, but the only thing you’re feeling right now is mild annoyance and a surge of satisfaction after seeing this guy’s guilt ridden face. See, soulmates are bullcrap. Choi Beomgyu can eat shit.

“There— there was an emergency,” he sputters out. “The guys who I asked to watch my dog while I was out canceled last minute. I couldn’t just leave Charlie alone at home.”

Well. He did show you pictures of Charlie, so that amended your opinion about him a but. Just a little bit because from that revelation, the any hope of things progressing into something more was magnanimously ruined, but neither of you wanted to waste your meal, and you two were still in the middle of a 1v1 snakes and ladders competition so you went on with the date, and he walked you to the bus stop

He was cool. Kind of. You tell Heeseing about it at Horangnabi the next day, and he falls to the floor crying and slamming his fists to the ground. “It’s not fucking funny,” you say.

“It’s so fucking funny,” he wheezes. “Holy shit. What are the odds? This is amazing.”

A chortle-snort huffs out of you beyond your control. Okay. Maybe it is a little funny. Until it’s not, because later that evening you receive a text from an acquaintance you have in one of your GE courses, a picture of you and Eunseok attached from that night, asking [hey is this you? did you break up with choi beomgyu?]

That was when the third wave of rumors started.

And it’s arguably the worst wave yet.

“Once I find out who fucking posted this, I swear to god—”

Minjeong is stomping the ground. You’re sitting on a bench at the courtyard, face-to-face with an anonymous post on the student board. It’s a big block of text, glaring straight at you from Sungchan’s laptop screen with a heading in thick, bold letters saying Do you think some people just cheat as a hobby? You don’t know why they’re showing this to you. That is until you read the first few lines, and it hits you.

[Post: I’m not naming any names, but there was this girl I was talking to for a while. We hit it off immediately and she acted like she was super into me so I asked her out on a date after a few weeks of talking. Lmao. She said yes but didn’t reply to my texts for the rest of the night, and the next morning I find out she has a boyfriend who she’s been too busy fucking the entire night so that’s why she that’s why she wasn’t replying. Sure. Okay. Whatever. But today I got the news that she’d been cheating on him with another guy again. Guess some bitches are just born as whores. Ifykyk lol].

[Comment from Anon 1: LMAO the way I know exactly who this is referring to. you dodged a bullet, buddy. the bf’s dumb too for not dumping her yet]. [Reply from Anon 2: to think the guy has flaked out on us so many times just because of his serial cheater girlfriend. buddy, get the fuck up. open your eyes].

[Comment from Anon 3: ain’t it weird how she’s always in and out of a clubroom full of guys? lol, must be wild in there].

[Comment from Anon 4: drop names! people need to know which freaks to avoid!]

There’s a lot more comments. Sungchan shuts his laptop before you can read any more. Minjeong is fuming from behind you. Sure, there weren’t any names, but it’s obvious who the poster is referring to. It’s obvious who posted this. But you’re not even angry. Your chest doesn’t sting, you don’t feel your head throbbing. All you’re thinking is wow— you can’t just expect everyone to mature the moment they leave high school. Some people still mentally belong to the playground.

“I’ve reported it,” says Sungchan. “Don’t think about it too much. It’s all bullshit anyway.”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” you smile, getting up from the bench seat and landing a ruffle on his head. “It’s fine. Thank god I’ve grown out of my anger issues. The guy would be dead if he pulled this stunt last sem.”

Minjeong and Sungchan escort you halfway to the coding club room because you mean to check on how Beomgyu’s faring. On the way, you pass by a group of people— a few familiar faces amongst them— their eyes trained on you as you pass by. “Fucking whore,” you hear one of them gruffly whisper, followed by hushed laughs, and you and Sungchan have to stop Minjeong from throttling them. It’s like high school all over again. This is ridiculous.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Sungchan asks, a hallway away from their clubroom. You tell them it’s fine and shoo them off to head to their classes. They leave, albeit hesitantly, and you finally make your way to the room, the old gray door right in front of you.

Your hand reaches out for the handle. But you don’t twist it open. You pause, lips pressed together, deep in thought.

These guys only tease you and Choi Beomgyu just for the hell of it— you know that. You truly know that. But because of you, some anonymous fucks are talking shit about their friend online right now, and you know they’re his friends before yours. You hesitate for a moment, hand letting go of the handle, until you hear someone walk up from behind.

“Oh, sorry, I—uh, I was just—”

“You’re not coming in?”

It’s Hanbin. You blink at him. He’s still smiling at you pleasantly, like he always has. Maybe he hasn’t seen the post yet. He hums and nudges himself beside you, opening the door in your stead, and holds an arm out, ushering you in.

You hesitate for a moment. You suck in a deep breath and charge in, expecting maybe an awkward bout of silence from your intrusion. Or the noise pollution they usually emit. But no. You don’t think you’d have ever predicted to see all of them standing in formation right in front of you— two lines, front and back with Heeseung and Jeongin at the head of the back. Beomgyu’s in there too, wedged far left at the very back. What is this? What the hell is going on?

Suddenly, Heeseung stomps his feet, four fingers pointed to his temple in a salute. This is just confusing you even further. “Atten—tion!” he hollers. The rest follow with a resounding, chest-heavy exhale, posing in the same manner.

You’re about to ask what in the world they’re up to. Until Heeseung and Jeongin suddenly break out into an oath of speech.

Nothing will ever prepare you for this moment. They’re all crazy.

“We, the honorable members of Kool Kids Koding Klub—”

“We, the honorable members of Kool Kids Koding Klub.”

You were never informed that that was their club’s name. That’s so fucking stupid. You have to hold in a burst of laughter.

“After a long moment of thoughtful reflection and inward-consideration—”

“After a long moment of thoughtful reflection and inward-consideration.”

“Do humbly realize that we have fucked up and have been abominably stupid—”

“Do humbly realize that we have fucked up and have been abominably stupid.”

“In the following ways.”

This is stupid. This is insane. You turn to Hanbin. He just gives you a look that says, “let them finish.” You cup your mouth with a hand, cheeks protruding. Gosh, they’re a bunch of idiots.

“Number one. For making constant jokes and teasing you and our fellow member Choi Beomgyu about a relationship that we know has never existed despite your evident and consistent expression of disapproval— we are sorry.”

“We are sorry!”

Wow. So they are capable of self-reflection.

“Two. For bringing said stupid and dumb and distasteful jokes in public— which may or may not have reached the ears of susceptible bystanders who do not know the true and full truth— we are sorry.”

“We are sorry!”

How’d they memorize all this? You’re honestly impressed.

“Lastly, we—”

“—Lee Heeseung—”

“—and Yang Jeongin—”

“—duly acknowledge and take responsibility for the fact that we, unintentional or otherwise, may have inadvertently started and exacerbated these horrible rumors, which eventually caused a butterfly effect and snowballed to an extent and severity that we lacked the foresight to predict and prevent. For this, we are truly, deeply sorry.”

“We are sorry!”

They all bow in unison. Ninety degrees. It’s quiet now. Dead quiet. Your eyes scan the number of heads turned down, some bobbing ever the slightest, some dead still and frozen. “W—we…we’re done,” you hear Jeongin say. You bite down a laugh. The moment you utter a semblance of forgiveness— not even able to finish your sentence yet— Heeseung immediately springs out of formation and throws himself into you.

“Don’t worry! We’re on your side!” he declares. “We know you’d never ever cheat on Beomgyu!”

There’s a cough. You stare at him, his arms wrapped around your shoulders in silence. No one says anything. Heeseung shamefully pries himself off of you.

“Sorry. I’m not making those jokes ever again. Please don’t hate me.”

You give him a push. “Too bad. I already hate you.” Heeseung whimpers. Then you turn to the rest of the boys, all patiently waiting for you to give them the greenlight. “You guys didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t blame any of you.”

And it’s like the oxygen returns into the room and they release sighs in a chorus. Yeonjun walks up to you for a hug and tells you to cheer up. Hyunjin says that they’ve been trying to track the original poster’s and commenter’s IP addresses and connected accounts since this morning. They’re actually doing something club related for once. You’re shocked and proud.

“Thanks, but there’s really no need. I already know who posted it,” you say. Your eyes are trained to the back of the room, where Beomgyu is hovering around. He hasn’t come up to you yet. You really need to talk to him.

“Still,” Hanbin says. “It’s better to get concrete evidence. We can report them to student affairs for this, you know. This isn’t just some minor issue.”

You point your chin up, giving him a smile in response before excusing himself to corner the guy in the corner.

He’s not going anywhere. You move in one straight direction. Heeseung and Jeongin step aside to make way for you. Old plastic bottles and tattered furniture are no obstacles to you. You march up to Choi Beomgyu. He doesn’t move, but he doesn’t look at you either until you’re already standing in front of him, shoes pointed a mere inches away from each other. He’s fidgeting with his fingers. His eyes peer up— hesitant, unsure. You can clearly see what’s troubling him.

It’s like he’s bracing himself for you to push him away. Again. Like he’s always causing you trouble. Like he’s always been the root of all your problems.

Your throat tightens, but you swallow it down. What should you do to make it clear to him that that’s really not the case?

“I’m borrowing him for a moment.”

You don’t wait for an assent when you grab him by the arm and pull him out of the clubroom for some privacy. The hallway is full of people. You pay no mind to the dozens of eyes drilling into you as you tug Beomgyu’s jacket sleeve through the turns and corners, stairs and exits until you find yourselves at the back of the building, devoid of anybody else. You let go of him with a push. Beomgyu’s heels scrape against the ground. You cross your arms, looking at him with a huff.

“Spit it out,” you say. “What’s going on inside your head?”

His face is tense. He lifts up his hand— barely. Just barely in an attempt to reach out to yours, but a hesitant quiver forces it back down. Fuck. You really don’t like this. You don’t like this at all.

“I’ve been thinking,” he starts.

“Shocker,” you respond, trying to lighten things up.

“Shut up.” It works for a second because he shoots you an annoyed glare. Only for a second because he gets serious again, and your stomach feels heavy. Like the earth wants to swallow you whole. “Can you be honest with me? Am I giving you a hard time?”

You feel a squeeze in your lungs. You press your lips together. You force in a breath.

“I think— I think I won’t be too mad this time if you ask me to act like I don’t know you again,” he says. “It was more peaceful for you, wasn’t it? Nobody bothered you and you spent your uni life without having to hear anything painful or mean from people you don’t even know. I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I should’ve tried harder to protect you. I’m sorry.”

Beomgyu says nothing more. It gets quiet. You run the words he just said over and over again in your head wondering why the hell would he ever think that? Why would he think you’d want that? “Hey, fuckface,” you say. He flinches. “Do you remember what you said to me the day we made up?”

He stiffens. There’s no way he wouldn’t remember. There’s no way you’d ever forget.

“You said you couldn’t live without me.”

A tinge of red stains his ears. You pull on the arm he held back earlier, forcing him to finally look at you in the eye. They’re stained red too. The back of your throat burns. You don’t care. You push the words out of your mouth even if it ends up killing you.

“If you can’t live without me, what makes you think that I can live without you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widen— like it’s a surprise for him to hear that. Like it’s a surprise for him to still be near you, hovering around in a circle that he thought was temporary. It’s not. That’s one thing you’re sure of. That’s one thing you can say with confidence that’s never going to change.

“You’re so stupid,” you say, roughly letting go of him. “Take back your apology. You’re uglier when you’re about to cry than when you’re actually crying.” He responds by pushing himself back into your space, and you’re taken aback when he suddenly swallows you with his arms.

He’s squeezing you so tightly. He isn’t even giving you the wiggle room to hug him back.

“Thank fucking god,” he breathes out, voice muffled into your shoulder.

You do what you can to pat what you can reach. Beomgyu finally releases you after fifteen, twenty seconds. His eyes still look a little irritated, but he didn’t cry. There aren’t any snot marks on your shirt. He’s such a baby.

“But, you know,” he says with a sniffle. “I’ll do whatever I can to fix this, but this is really gonna ruin your chances of getting a boyfriend.”

“Rumors stand nothing against my nightly eleven-eleven wishes.”

He laughs a little. You smile. “You’re so fucking lame.”

The fruits of the coding club’s labor materialized two days later. You receive a text early in the morning to head to the clubroom. Jeongin welcomes you with a list of all the people who made malicious comments on the post and, of course, the poster himself— Jang Seung. No shit. That was expected. But what came as a bit more of a surprise not only to you, but to Beomgyu as well, is the fact that many of his many many many friends were on that list, their corresponding comments attached.

It doesn’t really bother you since you don’t even know them. But you can’t say the same for Choi Beomgyu.

“I didn’t see it coming either— wait! Beomgyu, where are you going?”

Beomgyu storms out of the club room, shoving off Yeonjun’s hand when the former tried stopping him— much to no avail, because he’s already gone before you know it. Some of the guys follow him out. You’re not too worried. You’re pretty sure he’s got a sound head on his shoulders. He’s never gotten into a fight since he was, like, twelve.

But maybe you overestimated his impulse control. Maybe you should’ve paid more attention to his expression when they revealed the list, because you later find him sitting on the stairs to the entrance of your apartment building with two unmistakable, vivid, and well-formed bruises on his cheekbone and jaw.

You stop at the foot of the stone stairs. He looks up at you with a grin. “You’re home.”

Spinning. Your head is spinning. “You’re a mess,” you tell him. Beomgyu gets up and follows you into the building, into your apartment, and you sit him down on the sofa before you make a beeline for the fridge to grab a bag of frozen vegetables, wrapping it with a fresh dishcloth.

Beomgyu refuses to tell you what happened when you start icing his face. You look at him, the makeshift ice pack retracted from his bruise while you give him your most done expression you can muster. He won’t budge. You put Jeongin on the phone. The guy spills everything to the table without even needing a nudge.

“You just lost a good chunk of your friends,” you say, as a matter of fact, while tapping the cold cloth to his face.

Jeongin had just informed you that he blew up on his so called friends earlier, causing a minor, uh, altercation to break out, with one of them landing a fist to his face because Beomgyu allegedly dropped the terms pathetic and disgusting pieces of shits, as your informant quotes. Beomgyu doesn’t look bothered at all. His eyes just wander around the corners of your apartment as you tell him that his social circle just shrunk overnight.

“You think I care about that?” he says, leaning back against your couch. Your arm stretches out to chase after his face. “I really don’t give a shit. I can live without them.” But it stutters mid-air after hearing that. You clear your throat. You tell him to scoot over and make room because you can’t reach the bruise.

“This is gonna look pretty ugly tomorrow,” you remark. He says his hands got a little fucked too. You sit up, face scrunching. Indeed, his knuckles aren’t looking pretty. You grunt and fish for a first aid kit from your bathroom cabinet. When you get back to the living room, Beomgyu is sitting patiently with the vegetable pack pressed to his face.

“I’d like you to be angrier, honestly,” he says while you put some ointment on the hills of his knuckles. “This is all my fault.”

You set his hand down on your tangled legs on the couch, still barely grazing over his fingers. “I already told you, it’s not,” you sternly say. Beomgyu fiddles with your fingers. He’s not looking at you. “It’s not your fault everyone’s so far up in your business.”

“Well. That’s true.” Beomgyu simply lets out a lamenting sigh. “Why am I so perfect? It’s so hard being a wanted man.”

You roughly let go of his hand, tossing the ointment at him too. “If you’re so perfect, go fix yourself up, you fuck.”

He whines and tells you you’re a heartless meanie, picking on an injured man, and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders because he’s being annoying again. Because he’s acting like his usual self again— and to you that’s the only thing that matters right now. Even if the entire world thinks you’re a whore and a bitch and a cheater, there’s still one person who’s willing to get his face bruised and battered just to tell them they’re wrong.

That’s enough, you think. That’s more than enough.

나비 / NABI. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

#choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt beomgyu x reader #txt x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu x you #txt beomgyu x you #txt x you #choi beomgyu scenrios #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu fanfic #choi beomgyu fanfic #txt scenarios #txt fanfic #txt au #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu angst

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xrstuve · 10 months ago

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COMFORT IN THE SNOW | abby anderson x reader !

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

“hey!! stop! oh you are so gonna regret that!” abby chuckles as she throws another snowball towards you, shaking off the excess snow on her jacket in the process.

you giggle as you try to get away from her, your arm resting in front of your face to avoid any snow from hitting your eyes.

abby turns around as she kneels down on the snow, her hands forming another snowball to continue the snow fight, when suddenly she hears you get hurt. eyes widening, she rushes towards you and places her gloved hands on your shoulders as she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, checking if she had hurt you badly.

“oh my god babe are you okay? i’m so so sorry i didn’t mean to-“ she starts apologizing profusely as she hears a soft giggle erupt from your lips, uncovering your arm from your face as you laugh uncontrollably at her reaction. abby sighs as she frustratedly looks at you, her hands moving up to your face, gently squeezing your cheeks as you try to squirm away from her touch.

“babe!! not funny!! i seriously thought i hurt you!” she pouts, cheeks flushed as she stares at you, and you can’t seem to stop laughing at her cute reaction.

“m’sorry abs, but your face!! it was priceless!!” you bring your hand up to your eyes, wiping your tears as you sigh contently, smiling up at her. abby’s eyebrows narrow as her face contorts from a serious one to a soft one, her lips curling up to a small smile as she chuckles. seeing you smile so brightly made her realize how beautiful you were and how grateful she was to have you. to love someone so dearly. to call you hers.

she was undeniably in love with you.

you notice her smile turn into a smirk as you look up at her, slowly getting scared about what was about to happen next.

“oh yeah? you wanna see something even funnier?” abby smirks as she wraps her buff arms around your waist and lifts you up on her shoulder, you legs dangling as you screech at the sudden action.

“abigail anderson!! put me down!!” you try to wiggle out of her grip but she holds you tighter, preventing you from falling. that’s until you feel a rush of cold wind against your face as you find yourself on the snow, abby falling along with you as she laid on top of you.

you look at each other for a brief second, bursting into laughter as you laid comfortably on the snow. abby’s hand reaches out to your face, pushing away some strands of hair stuck to your forehead as she stares at you lovingly.

“you’re so beautiful y’know that?” she blurts as you look at her, cheeks flushing from the sudden compliment. she chuckles at your reaction, finding cute the effect she has on you.

“got you blushing real hard for me, haven’t i?” you look away from her, instantly feeling so small beneath her as you try to push her away.

“pfft, it’s definitely because of the cold!!” abby chuckles as she plants a soft kiss against the side of your lips, your face getting hotter by the minute.

“yeah, sure it is”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

-> wrote this tiny fluff one shot with abby although i failed miserably :’)

anyways i hope you enjoy! <3

#i’m new and i have no idea how tumblr works help??#abby anderson #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #fluff #abby anderson fluff #oneshot #game #tlou #tlou2 #cybella’s thoughts⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡#lesbian #wlw

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nsf-watch · 2 months ago

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NSFW ENEMIES TO LOVERS HEADCANONS

!! ft. Ramattra & Reaper

!! 18+ • NSFW

!! RAM • DomTop! Ramattra, Ambiguous Reader Genitals, Brief interrogation, Hatefucking, Degrading, Facefucking

!! REA • DomTop! Reaper, Ambiguous Reader Genitals, Pegging if you're a v haver, Degrading, Threats, Claiming / Marking, Choking, Overstim

RAMATTRA

RAMATTRA WHO...

Isn't quite sure how this happened.

You fucking hated each other.

Hate's a strong word for Ramattra, but he was willing to use it for you.

He knew how it started.

You two were fighting each other and he got you pinned down for the first time ever.

He could've killed you, he should've.

You were everything he hated.

But he could feel arousal coming off of you, which fired his own sensors.

He picked you up and took you to his base for "interrogation," effectively holding you as a prisoner.

And after you sit for a while with him in silence, he tells you what he felt when he pinned you down in the most smug voice.

"Do you get aroused every fight we have?"

And when you try to deny it, he knows right away you're lying.

Snowballed from there, really.

Next thing both of you know, you're on the table as Ramattra fucks your brains out.

You didn't even know Ramattra had a dick..

His thick and long cock, pounding into you at a brutal pace as he gropes you hard enough to leave bruises.

"You fucking slut.. So desperate to be used like the fleshlight that you are, that you'd fuck the omnic that wants your head. Fucking pitiful."

And when you tell him to shut the fuck up?

You're earned with a swat to your thigh and a particularly hard thrust, both leaving you moaning louder.

"Tell me to shut up again."

And you do.

So he pulls his cock out of you and walks to the other side of the table where your head hangs off.

Without warning he shoves himself in your mouth, thrusting himself down your throat, forcing you to take every inch of him.

This is something that started to happen regularly.

You'd fight, one of you takes the other back and you end up both end up a mess.

Over time, though, things got... nicer?

He'd be less degrading, less rough with you.

It hits you like a freight train one day.

After a particularly hard thrust that hits you deep, you cry out..

And he stops.

"...Did I hurt you?"

REAPER

GABRIEL WHO...

Hates your guts.

And the feeling is mutual.

Every little thing he does seems to get on your nerves.

Calling you enemies is a massive understatement.

You so often try to kill each other when you're not fucking.

When I say fucking, I hate kill fucking, a more intense version of hate fucking.

Usually, he's thrusting into you at a rough and brutal pace, choking you as you try and claw his hands off his neck.

Not because you're not into being choked, but because you don't want him to have the satisfaction of you completely submitting.

Usually, all dirty talk is him degrading you as you spout threats at him.

"You think I'm scared of you while you're cumming your brains out, wrapped out on my cock? You're pathetic."

Your "retort" is usually a threat to make his pain worse interrupted by a moan.

He laughs at you for it.

You swear that stupid fucking laugh of his makes you want to fucking kiss him.

kill.

Makes you want to kill him.

He lives to make you overstimulated on his dick.

Lives to bring you down a leg by showing you that your worst enemy knows exactly how to pleasure you until you're a bumbling mess.

He fucking loves to embarrass you by leaving marks all over your skin.

He consistently leaves dark hickes around your neck and shoulders, relishing in the fact that everyone that sees will know you're his..

To destroy.

You're his to destroy.

Pins your hands down when you get too handsy for his liking.

"Stop touching me like I'm your lover. I hate you and I will never like you."

Though, some days, it sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than he's telling you.

As you're riding him one day, things come to an abrupt stop

He's just as degrading and rough as ever, saying how pathetic you are as he guides your hips up and down his cock.

You place your hands on his chest, running them over his muscles to steady you..

He grabs your hand and you expect him to yank it off of him, saying what he usually does.

"Fuck, keep touching me like that.."

#overwatch #mdni blog #18+ mdni #overwatch ramattra #ramattra #ramattra overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #gabriel reaper reyes #reaper overwatch #overwatch reaper

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saltofmercury · 2 years ago

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"Pillow Talk"

Pairing: König x f!reader

A/N: Had to get this out of my drafts

Summary: You and König stay up talking about your lives.

warnings: talks about kids, fluff, bullying, etc.

"Pillow Talk"

It had been 3 hours since you both had gone to bed.

Three hours since you both kissed goodnight, turned away from one another, but somewhere along the line nonstop talking, giggles, and random stories were given to one another.

Both you and König were facing each other in bed, legs wrapped on top of one another, while he had an arm under you and you had your arm on top of him.

“That was why my dad never got us pet fish.” You said.

It had started with König asking you a simple question, his back turned to you, and then you asking him a question. Both of you now faced each other and had begun telling stories of your childhood, stories of when you were an adolescent, work stories, almost anything you guys could think of. Snowballed the stories off of one another.

You could see small glimpses of him from the moonlight outside, feel his calm breathing, his chest when he snorted, laughing at something you said.

“What about you?” You ask quietly.

“Did you have any pets when you were younger?”

Silence and a small inhale—

“I did have a fish once,” he exhaled, “Forgot to feed him one day and my dad told me I would never be responsible.” He started laughing.

You loved hearing him laugh. It was boyish, carefree, and loud. It was a little sprinkle to your night. The way he would inhale and laugh, rub his eyes or chest, like he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling that bubbled from his stomach.

“Isn’t that humorous? Responsibility based on a fish.” He was rubbing his face now.

You laughed, followed by a question, “How old were you?”

“I was about 8 or 9 years old, it was around the time I had my first crush.”

You adjusted yourself closer to him. “A crush?!” You squealed.

“Yes, at school. Primary crush.” He said nonchalantly.

“Well tell me about your crush.”

He adjusted himself again in bed and had positioned his other arm on your thigh rubbing up and down.

“Well…” he began, “It was just a first crush, if I was timid now, I was fearful back then.”

You nodded and hummed a little for him to continue.

“I remember that day, I forgot to feed the fish because it was Valentine’s Day, and we had small gifts to give each other.. I was terrified to give anyone anything.”

“Why were you scared?”

“I don’t think I ever told you, but my classmates were very mean to me.”

You tried to picture him as a small child. His blonde/auburn hair falling to his eyebrows, his big blue eyes, he was probably tall and had chubby cheeks. Who could ever be mean to him?

“Why were they mean to you?”

He exhaled and then continued, “I guess I was too tall, I spoke too softly, cried too much in Kindergarten and that never left me.”

You had started to rub his ears now, your hand falling to his collar.

“Kids are so mean sometimes, they used to bully me for turning red whenever I got an answer wrong.”

“You still blush to this day.” He answered with a hint of smile

“Some things just don’t go away,” you responded softly, “Some things you just learn to carry with you and eventually it goes away.”

He was quiet for a minute, then continued,

“Some things, but I try to remember they were just kids.”

You looked up at him. You can feel his gaze on you.

You respond gently, “Have you not forgiven those kids?”

He shifts himself, he now knows the spotlight is on him.

“Shatz,” he begins. “Of course I have, they were kids they had no idea.”

He inhales again, “I’m kind of happy it happened to me, it gave me a boost to then join the military and try to face this anxiety.”

You smiled. Of course only he would say something like that. When he gets injured out on the field he always says “it's a good thing it happened to him and not one of his smaller teammates.” König was selfless that way. He could take any pain, any taunt, any malicious threat towards him as long as his company present didn’t.

“How many kids do you want?” You stopped yourself. If the Earth could open up and swallow you whole, it would feel better than what came out of your mouth.

“Kids?” he says it like it’s a question he hadn’t thought about.

“I’m sorry.” you say, “It’s the word vomit again.”

He laughs again. “Such weird phrases you come up with.”

He clears his throat again. “I think I would want 4. They could come in pairs and protect one another.”

Twins? You have to think about it. Pairs. You know he had an older sibling and he was the youngest. Maybe he had wished for two younger siblings to protect.

“Whatever you want honestly.” He’s running his hands through your hair now, slowly inching his hands down your neck, swiping his thumb across your collarbone.

You melt. There goes König and his selflessness again. He tells you what he wants but puts your needs first.

You laugh again, “When it gets to that part we’ll make that decision together.”

Sleep crawls back in your eyelids, you can feel yourself tuning out, but you want one more story.

“König?”

“Yes?”

“Tell me about them. The kids.”

You slowly drift off as König tells you about them.

#könig mw2 #konig x y/n #könig x reader #könig #konig call of duty #call of duty #konig x you #konig #könig cod #konig x reader #y’all really eat up the happily ever after

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yuoimia · 1 year ago

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DAY 1: FIRST FALL OF SNOW ❅⋆⍋

summary: activities you do in the snow

characters: albedo, childe, diluc, wriothesley.

notes: wc: 260-300 per character, roughly 1.1k total, gn! reader, fluff, mentions of reader being lost in the snow in childe’s, petnames, the madness begins.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist

albedo - how to build a snowman

All year round, Dragonspine is inundated with thick layers of gleaming snow.

Twinkling in weak sunlight, an ethereal sight both close-up and afar.

However, there was always something particularly striking about waking up to a fresh new coat of snow. Impeccably perfect, its raw beauty enthrals you each time. It was a privilege, you knew. Not just anyone could climb such an intimidating mountain, and the only reason you got to experience such phenomenons, the one who introduced you to this very mountain—was someone you’d never imagined to meet. Much less be more than acquaintances, a renowned genius, who currently stood completely blank in the suggestion of building snowmen.

"So, ah… I just add another pile on top?”

For the hundredth time this morning, you shake your head with an expression of amusement. “No,” you mutter, rolling the pile next to him into the shape of a sphere before placing it before him. “You need to make it into a ball shape, then place it on top. That will be its middle.” You point accordingly, an encouraging smile plastered on your face.

Albedo still doesn’t get it.

Instead, he watches silently as you enjoy yourself constructing a snowman. How interesting, creating little figures out of snow. He watches from afar as you unravel your own woollen scarf and wrap it around its uneven neck. He watches as you judge a variety of sticks to pick the most suitable to be its arms.

Albedo watches as you stand proudly beside it, a dazzling smile etching your face as he too, unravels his woollen scarf and gives it to you.

childe - snowball fights

You catch your breath behind a large cedar tree.

Was it a surprise? Surely not. Challenging Childe in any form of fight was the equivalence of battling in an arena, playful or not.

It also didn’t help that you were winning. For now, at least.

A strong gust of frosty wind brings a blizzard of newly formed snowflakes, collecting delicately on your hair and clothing. The fierce howls mask up any forms of sound, and the gradually falling snow covers up any traces of footprints.

Moreover, the temperature was severely dropping by the minute.

Perfect weather, you curse internally.

Your hands swiftly grab handfuls of the snow all around you, leaving a deep indentation in the shape of a ring all around you. Painfully obvious evidence that you were here, but at this point in time, you were more than ready to surrender. Between the choice of victory or frostbite, you’d willingly lose.

Cradling a dozen snowballs, your eyes are alert and searching as you attempt to outline any signs of a human. It’s hopeless; the wind is intensifying, swirling the frost like a snowglobe.

An anguished sigh escapes as you look down at the heavy layers of snow. Perhaps it was time to resort to something more desper-

Smack.

Something cold lands on the side of your face before falling to bits next to your feet. Another flies right past you.

You’re supposed to be mad; you’re supposed to shout and blame him for putting you in such a perilous and stupid situation, but you don’t.

As he catches you in an embrace, a contrast to everything you felt mere seconds ago, so frantic and tight, you realise how scared he was—scared enough to be rendered completely and irrevocably silent.

diluc - snow? my eyes are on you.

How long has it been?

How long have you been gazing, lost in your thoughts, through the window of your shared bedroom?

It’s quiet, but a comforting sort of quiet. The sort of quiet that you could appreciate for years and years and enjoy as if it were freshly discovered. Perhaps it was because of Diluc and the reserved and reclusive ambience he always carried. Whatever it was, you understood why he sought it so much.

Kaeya told you to expect snow tonight.

You love snow.

As soon as Diluc stepped one foot into the entrance of Dawn Winery, you had notified him most excitedly, “It’s going to snow tonight!”

You made sure not to mention that it was Kaeya who told you, though.

Being the gentleman he was, Diluc reciprocated your happiness most thoughtfully. Across the candlit dinner table, you swapped memories and dreams, all down until the last few tired murmurs sealed with a tender goodnight kiss planted on your forehead. A fond, “Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” as he drifted off to sleep.

Time steamed on; it must’ve been hours, according to the grandfather clock in the farthest corner of the bedroom, yet never once did your eyes stray from the window. You had long abandoned your previous sleeping position and now cozily huddled your legs, although still buried comfortably within the blankets.

Diluc seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

For a while, you observed in slight awe, the little rises in his chest as he inhaled, the serene expression decorating his face. It felt so intimate, so softly vulnerable—simply two people treasuring a moment in their lives so unknowingly—is what made it magnificent.

The first glimmers of snow lightly shimmered through the night sky as a familiarly snug hand pulled you beneath the covers.

wriothesley - ice skating

The many fountains in Fontaine had been frozen from the frigid weather, transforming the statues to behold graceful arches that glinted divinely in the feeble sunlight. Bound to be presented gloriously on the front page of the Steambird for the next three months or so.

Additionally, smaller bodies of water had completely transformed into ice, making it a perfect opportunity for extravagant winter activities. After all, Fontaine was never short of its flamboyance and charming flair when it came to anything of that sort.

That was the reason Wriothesley had spontaneously suggested going for a skate on the ice.

You had promptly declined at first, leaning over his desk, brushing the idea off with a brisk excuse of, “I can’t skate.”

Wriothesley had looked up from his stacks of documents, followed by a falsely exasperated roll of eyes, saying, “That’s what you said about dancing.”

"I'm not a very good dancer, you know that.”

“But I successfully taught you, didn’t I?" he confidently answered, standing from the overflowing desk.

You made a non-committal noise, shaking your head as Wriothesley chucked and wrapped an arm around you. “C’mon, let’s give it a try, all right, darling?”

This is precisely how you landed yourself in such a predicament.

The skates were easy enough to get on, but the process of skating, like you anticipated, was no easy skill.

Wriothesley, being the superb lover he is, let’s out a muffled snort as he watches you topple over for what could’ve only been the hundredth time that evening.

“Instead of laughing, you could actually help me like you promised, you know.”

With one last terribly hidden chortle, Wriothesley seizes your hands and gently guides your movements alongside his, careful and patient, as you both skate until the winter sunlight ebbs over the horizon.

#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #albedo x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #wriothesley x reader #anya writes ✧.*

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morganski-19 · 2 months ago

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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 29

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 26, part 27, part 28

Dustin’s not exactly sure what happened. He was patiently waiting for Steve to meet him in the lobby, but it’s been almost a half hour, and Dustin has no idea where he is. He already went back to check in Eddie’s room, but nothing. Then outside, nothing again. And Steve would never leave his stranded, so it can’t be that.

Which leaves Dustin completely alone, eating a Snickers bar that he got from the vending machine because they were out of Three Musketeers. The second one he got for Steve slowly melting in his pocket. Wondering if it was at the level where he had to go check under the bathroom stalls to see if any of the feet were wearing Steve’s shoes.

But he can at least be a little bit saner and go double check Eddie’s room again. Maybe Steve couldn’t find him and went back there to look. That would be the logical thing to do.

When Dustin opens the door, Steve has the chair pulled up close to Eddie’s bed hunched over and looking like he’s about to cry. Eddie’s looks like halfway there himself. Both of them jumping to hide that fact when Dustin entered.

“I didn’t know where you went,” Dustin says. Not sure whether to ignore or acknowledge what he just walked into. “I thought we were going to go home.”

Steve shakes his head gently, pressing his eyes shut like it will stop the tears from flowing. “Yeah, sorry. Could you just give me a second? I was just talking to Eddie about something.”

“It’s ok,” Eddie brushes off with his hand. “Take the kid home, we can talk about this later.”

“Are you sure? He can wait another minute-.”

“I’m sure. We’re good, ok. Go home.” Eddie looks at him like he really means what he’s saying. Not just pretending for both of their benefit. Not again.

Steve nods. Standing and pushing the chair back in place against the wall. “I’ll see you later then.”

Eddie waves Steve over and whispers something before letting him leave. Steve just snorts and smiles at whatever it is. Whispering something back before finally ushering Dustin out of the room. Some sort of weird energy radiating off of him in the car ride home. A mix between happy and sad that Dustin doesn’t understand.

“What was that about?” Dustin asks. Trying to do it without a confrontational tone.

Steve shrugs. “We just had something to talk about, that’s all.”

Dustin nods. “But you’re both ok, right? It looked like you were both about to cry.”

He’s trying to be gentle about the topic. Trying to calm the way he can ask about things. So it doesn’t sound like he’s pressuring his way into situations. That way people can feel like they can open up to him, and tell him what’s going on. Instead of just brushing it off and telling him it’s not his problem.

Because it was his problem. This was his friend. This was his family. He didn’t have siblings to fight through all of this with. He didn’t have parents who he could tell these things too. For the most part, it’s been Steve that he’s talked to about all this. It’s been Steve that he radioed in the middle of the night when he was so scared he couldn’t breathe. Or when he needed advice about school problems. Or anything.

Somewhere along the line, Steve became the sibling he fought through stuff with. That’s been a sure fact since he helped Dustin get ready for the Snowball. They were one of the mini units in the bigger organization.

It hurt when Steve hid things from him out of “protection”. Dustin didn’t need protecting, he needed transparency. He needed for Steve to know that Dustin’s here for him. Just as much as Steve’s there for Dustin. This was a two-way street.

“We were, kinda,” Steve says after a long break of silence.

“Are you ok?”

Steve puts the car in park, turning to Dustin with an almost relieved expression. “Yeah. I am.”

“Ok.” Dusting is choosing to trust that Steve would tell him if he wasn’t. “Just, if you start to feel not ok, you know you can talk to me about it. I’ll listen.”

“I know.”

There’s a knock at Dustin’s window. His mom waving hello with a gentle smile. Dustin knows why, he always knows why. It’s to invite Steve in to have dinner that he’ll refuse three times before giving in. He’s over there for dinner more nights that he would probably admit.

“Hi, Miss Henderson,” Steve says when he rolls down the window.

“Hello. I haven’t seen you in a while, Steve. Why don’t you come in for dinner?”

That’s a lie, she saw him two days ago when she returned a movie at Family Video.

Steve lets out a small huff, catching her on her lie. “I appreciate it, but I really should be heading home. I don’t want to bother you.”

“Oh, it’d be no bother at all. It’s the least I can do for all the time you drive Dustin around.”

Dustin rolls his eyes as Steve rolls out another excuse. His mother already coming up with a response that negates the excuse entirely. Steve takes a deep breath and turns the car off, accepting the dinner invitation.

He only refused twice this time. Steve is starting to be worn down.

They go inside and are almost immediately ushered to the table. Set with three places each with their favorite sodas. Because there wasn’t an option for Steve to not be here for dinner, and the three of them knew it. It was just in Steve’s nature to try and refuse.

Even though he knows that once Steve steps through the doors of the Henderson house, he never wants to leave it. It’s much smaller than his house, and a lot more cluttered. But that’s what makes it warm. Every time he walked into his house after an upside down event, with all of this clutter and décor surrounding him, he never felt more relief in his life. He was home.

Whenever he visits one of the other guys’ houses, that feeling is mirrored in its own way. That same feeling wasn’t there whenever he went to Steve’s house.

Dustin remembers the first time Steve ever let him come over. The house was pretty much what he was expecting. High ceilings and fancy flourishes. A room full of furniture no one was allowed to sit on and carpets that couldn’t be walked on with shoes. But there was something wrong with it. The house was only a home when Steve was in it.

Without Steve, it would feel like no one lived there. The walls only had a few pictures on them, and there were more shut doors than open ones. The kitchen sink only ever had a few dishes in it, and the couch only had one cushion with a permanent dent. The whole of it felt so empty.

The worst part was that Steve knew it to. It was a nice place to throw get togethers. It was nice to look at and imagine living there. But Dustin felt the pull from Steve to stay anywhere else for just a second longer. So he didn’t have to go to a place that didn’t feel like home to him.

It’s part of the reason that his mom invites him over to dinner so much. When Dustin told her about how empty his house was, they decided to build Steve a place in theirs. They didn’t have a lot of space, but it was easy for them to make it feel like there was more. For Steve to have his own coat hook when he came over, and a place to put his shoes. A chair at the table that was always his, and his own blanket when they had movie nights.

Dustin wanted Steve to know that this could be his home if he needed it to be. And he knows that it worked. He can see it in the way that Steve relaxes every time he walks through the door. How he is nothing but himself when he’s here.

But eventually he has to leave and go home. He hugs Claudia goodbye and tries to refuse the container of leftovers shoved into his hands. Even though Dustin knows he’s grateful for it. Steve says goodbye to Dustin with a brief hug and a ruffle to his curls. And then he leaves.

Dustin wishes he didn’t have to.

tag list (capping at 100, only 2 spots left): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

#chills right to the marrow fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #dustin henderson #dustin pov #steve harrington #eddie munson #claudia henderson #claudia and dustin have adopted steve into their family #steve just doesn't know that yet #canon divergence #everyone lives no body dies #pre steddie #the burn has been started

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howtobecomeadragon · 2 years ago

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five years down the line some people are going to be like "hey did you ever watch stranger things? no? me neither, let's watch it. yeah I don't know much, just that Running Up That Hill is important and the bowl cut boy ends up with that other boy from when everyone was freaking out about it a few years ago"

and then they're going to watch and they're going to be like "aww Mike said he's the only one who care about Will" and then they're going to see El's introduction and one person is going to call a love triangle and the other will go "I mean it's the 80s and he's gay, he probably just feels pressured to like her." they'll laugh so hard they have to pause when El asks "will you be like my brother?" and they'll boo at the kiss

they'll go "aww" at the hand hold in s2, and get a little teary at the shed scene. they'll be a little 🤨 at El almost kissing Mike before going to the gate (one of them will shout "he's just not that into to you, El") and someone will point out how scared Mike looked. they'll freak out over the Snowball scene and see it for what it is.

they'll get sad over the rain fight and understand how slow of a burn it really is. they'll go "oh my god, poor Will, Mike just needs to talk about his feelings, it's obvious he's struggling. he loves Will, we KNOW they end up together, and he's acting different this season bc of it."

they'll get excited over the ramp up of Mike and Will's flirting in s4, bc finally, finally things are getting close. they'll be frustrated beyond belief at the monologue, throwing popcorn at their tv. "get it together, Mike! stop lying to her and go kiss your bf "

and then they'll watch s5, see the payoff, and they'll think wow, what a great slow burn. those crazy mother fuckers really pulled it off.

one person will say "I can't believe so many people were freaking out when they finally got together, it was so obvious." and the other person will shrug and say "idk we already knew it was coming. they didn't." and they'll both shrug and move on with lives. maybe that first person will tease their friend or family member who they remember complaining about byler post s5, going "it was right there in the show all along, were you even watching?"

#byler

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yeonjuns-beanie · 1 year ago

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A Dangerous Consummation

warnings: 18+, smut, dub-con, themes of guilt and angst, mention of r*pe, reader realizes they enjoy something extreme, confession of feelings, biting, unprotected sex, more sex with demons!, red face possesses reader this time, slapping, kind of subby dalton, spitplay, description of a snowball, softer ending

summary: what happened was something you couldn’t forget even if you tried. as you wrestle with your feelings of the night, you start noticing that something is not right. not long after, you come face to face with the beast that marked you as his own. You confide in dalton, knowing he’s the only one who could help, but his assistance turns into something much more lewd.

a/n: after seeing how licentious affairs had been doing, i felt quite inspired to write a conclusive counterpart to it. when your ask came through it puzzled in perfectly with what i had drafted up so far. i hope i’ve done your request justice! i’ll prolly write more for dalton after this. i’ve seen the movie a third time now n have too many ideas. this can be read as a stand alone fic, although i would recommend you read the first part to capture all the filth. have a great day! <3 ~nero

Dalton Lambert x possessed!female reader

word count:6.6k

Pt.1

Your body was weak and your mind was beyond exhausted. You wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and to somewhat forget about the events of tonight, but Dalton’s shaky cries kept your mind running. You couldn’t find your voice to let him know what happened, so instead you shared in the starkness of the dorm the only thing filling the air were the occasional footsteps on the floor above you and Dalton’s cries.

You hadn’t moved from your position on his bed, still very aware of the pallid liquid slowly drying into the skin of your lower back. You felt Dalton lift his head from the bed and heard him get up to his feet.

“I’ll be right back.”

Only then did you lift your head up. You didn’t want him to leave, you didn’t want to be left alone because if you were to be completely transparent–you were scared. Even with the recollection of what just happened, he still comforted you in his natural form, and you still needed him around.

“Wait.”

Dalton turned around, his eyes wide at finally hearing you utter something besides a breath. You looked so broken and he knew it was his fault. He couldn’t look at you for too long because he felt the tears brimming his waterline within the second. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he grabbed the door handle setting out to what he initially went to do knowing he’d be weak for you if he stayed any longer.

“I promise, I’ll be right back.”

And with that, he snaked out of the door rubbing his hands across his face trying to wipe off his emotions. On the other side of the door, you dropped your hand back on the bed, feeling some sense of defeat.

“...Don’t go…”

Sighing you tried to let your body fall into a state of sleep, but every time you got close to the relief of sleep your body would wake you up with chills erupting across your skin. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching you. Even though the room was decently illuminated by the full moon beaming through the windows, it still wasn’t enough to make you feel safe. You shut your eyes, knowing that you wouldn’t fall asleep but at least you wouldn’t be made known of anything manifesting in front of you.

The room started to feel oppressive. Every second that Dalton was gone it was becoming unbearable. There was a blanket of heated anxiety that you felt lay across your body and you knew something was watching you. You just couldn’t find the strength to open your eyes to face your opponent. You decided to barely squint your eyes open to make out just a fraction of what was causing you so much unease, but before you could muster up your full courage you heard the door unlock.

The amber lighting from the hallway painted the dingy tile flooring and the shadow of Dalton’s figure graced you with a moment of peace. Lifting your head to look at him, the warmth that filled your chest was something you couldn’t ignore. You could never be mad at him. Weakly, you motioned with your head as he fully came into the room.

“Can you turn on the light?”

He nodded and with the lurid overhead light casting over the dorm, you finally felt somewhat at ease. Dalton walked over to you still very apprehensive about being around you. Laying a small tub of hot water on the desk, he placed some hand towels on the chair. Kneeling back by the side of the bed you heard his voice cut through the silence again.

“Is it…is it okay if I touch you?”

He knew.

With the scene in front of him, it was almost moronic to think something else occurred on his bed. You nodded, but something told you that that wasn’t enough consent for him. Turning to look at him, a downturned smile poked at your lips.

“Yeah…you can touch me.”

With your verbal sanction, you felt a dry cloth make contact with your lower back. Sliding the partly dried slick off of your skin and encasing it in the towel, he followed with a warm towel. Relaxing muscles you didn’t even realize were tense. With another dry towel, he wiped over the small of your back making sure that you wouldn’t feel the chill of the air blow over your skin. He was sparing himself only taking care of your backside, but he knew that sooner or later he’d have to turn you over.

With his eyes shut, he took a deep breath preparing himself for whatever horror he’d have to look at.

“Can you roll over for me? So I can clean the rest of you..”

His voice trailed off, ashamed that he would have to take in more of this grim illustration that you were left bare in. Dalton got up from the side of the bed and went to your side of the room to dig through your drawers to find a sleep shirt for you. Picking the first large shirt he found, he turned around and was faced with your delicate body on its back. Vulnerable and exposed with small bruises peppered along your body.

As he came back over to you, his breath hitched and tears welled in his waterline. The life in his eyes drained as he took in your fragile form. A deep garnet stain was swiped across the side of your chin, maroon blemishes formed on the surface of your wrists, along your jawline, and there was a nasty crimson mark that was centered on the side of your neck.

The only puzzling thing was that that was the only one that truly looked like a bite mark. His stomach turned, knotting in regret. Placing your shirt on the edge of the bed he grabbed the wet towel, dunking it in the hot water, he needed to turn away from you. As the water trickled back into the bowl his thoughts played a horrifying symphony of guilt.

How could he let this happen? How could he hurt you? How could he let himself be so weak against that thing? After so long…

He turned around to face you, wrapping the towel around two fingers he kneeled again, wiping the warm towel against your marks. Your voice fluttered into his ears, a little bit more life swimming in your tone and he was delighted to hear your voice despite the circumstance.

“I guess you could say I’m afraid of the dark too now.”

You had a small smile pulling at your lips but horror pulled at Dalton’s.

“I’m so sorry y/n...I’m so sorry.”

You felt bad having him apologize knowing that deep down you enjoyed what happened. There was a certain sense of shame coursing through you but it was for wildly different reasons. Bringing your arm to rest across your eyes, you heard the water trickling in the bowl again and then felt a comforting warmth against the valley of your breasts. Dragging the towel across the areas that either Dalton felt needed attention or had vibrant bruising on them, he came to your flowery center. Hesitant, he looked up at you.

“Y/n, is it okay if I touch you here?”

“It’s okay Dalton, I trust you.”

A minuscule amount of relief sprinkled over him. How you still found it in you to be tender after whatever happened, killed him and it only crushed his heart even more. He needed to protect you and he failed. The one person he was truly enamored by, who made him feel more than emptiness, he failed.

Taking the towel, he gently cleaned your now wilted and tender petals. You hated to admit it but as he swiped over your folds, you kept having flash images of how you were ravished earlier in the evening. Your once angelic grotto was now tainted with the sin of taboo lust. You wanted to stop the small convulses at your center but the aftershocks were too much to control. You removed your arm from your face looking at Dalton once more, your anxiety wanting to confirm that it was still Dalton in the room with you.

As Dalton turned back around, he picked up your shirt and you somehow found the strength to sit up on the bed. Dalton was quick to rush to your side making sure that you were level. The worry in his eyes was so endearing that you almost forgot about all the events that occurred. You felt he had done more than enough and wanted to prove to him that you were in fact okay, you just needed time to recuperate.

“I-I’m okay, Dalton. Thank you.”

You were sincere, you weren’t trying to push him away and you wanted him to understand that and you felt that he did as he sat down on the bed across from you keeping an eye on your every move. Removing yourself of your bra, tank top, and cardigan, you tossed them all to your side of the room and grabbed the shirt that was in Dalton’s hands, pulling it over your body.

You crossed your legs and sat directly across from him, trying to gather what emotions were swarming through his head. It looked like he wanted to ask a question but didn’t have the courage to do so. Covering your legs with your shirt, you leaned over and nudged his knee with your hand.

“What’s going on in your head?”

He sighed, heavily and then looked around the dorm in hopes that he could find his answer somewhere nonverbally. Looking down at his hands and back up at you he found his voice.

“What happened? I genuinely don’t know—I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line suddenly feeling irrevocably sorry for him. You grabbed his hands and took a deep breath, ready to recount the portion of the night that he had no recollection of.

As you neared the end of your tale, you felt something wet the top of your hand. Looking up, you noticed a river of tears flowing from Dalton’s eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed in panic, immediately looking to calm him down. You wiped your thumb across his cheek taking what tears you could with it.

“Hey, Dalton–Dalton, look at me. It’s okay. I’m not mad or upset with you, this just means we have to figure this out together now.”

Dalton weaved his hands out of yours to wipe the remaining tears away from his face. Sniffling, he spoke after what felt like years of silence.

“I just, I don’t understand how you can look me in the face and tell me it’s okay after you just told me I raped you. How am I supposed to look at you and pretend everything is fine when I let you get hurt by simply just being involved with me? How can you even look at me?!”

To say his questions were laden would be an understatement. You now would have to present him with information you couldn’t even grasp the gravity of yet because you just discovered it about yourself. You sighed, coming to terms very quickly with your emotions.

“Dalton. Before I go on, there are a couple of things I haven’t mentioned yet.”

He looked up at you again, eyes full of panicked hysteria wondering what else you could possibly tell him happened.

“While you were possessed, this…entity told me something. It told me that everything it was going to do to me were things you wished you could do yourself. And it was preying on the fact that I was…aroused and that I was, well–enjoying it…”

The shame you felt creep up your throat was something that almost made you want to gag. The shock on his face was hard to manage because you were worried he would never be able to look at you normally. That any budding or fully bloomed feelings he had for you would be diminished to dust due to your confession. The silence you shared was beginning to become unbearable as you stared at each other.

“Please say something, Dalton. I can’t have you no-”

“-You, you enjoyed it?”

“You kinda have a hard time separating the fact that the person in front of you isn’t actually that person. Even more so when they look exactly the same and that person is someone you have a thing for in the first place…”

You scratched the back of your neck somewhat embarrassed and in awe of how quickly the truth just tumbled out of you. When you looked back at Dalton, you noticed a figured shadow appear behind him, but as quick as it appeared it was gone. Shaking your head, you wiped your face with your hands trying to find some of the same bravura you displayed moments before.

“Please don’t make me sit in silence again. I really just bared my bones here.”

“You have a thing, for me?”

“That’s what you got from all this?”

“It’s kinda a loaded moment y/n.”

You wanted something to distract you from the awkward tension that was now in the room, or at least that’s what it felt like to you. Looking around for your phone, you noticed it was on the floor peeking out from the bed. Looking over at Dalton you pointed to the floor.

“Can you grab that for me? It’s kind of in a dark spot.”

Without missing a beat, Dalton bent over and handed you your phone. Speaking as he sat up to hand it to you.

“This is more than a lot to digest, but for what it’s worth it wasn’t lying. N-not about the sex thing but I also have a thing for you. Wish it was divulged under different circumstances but we’re here now.”

“So by default, the sex thing is also true?”

You puckered your lips trying to fight a smile from teasing him. The situation itself was so heavy and you were searching for any remedy to lighten the mood. Dalton deadpanned, his face void of emotion trying to hide the annoyed smugness that was creeping up. You couldn’t help the giggle that erupted from your throat, feeling a veneer of normalcy between the two of you. The nervous pit finally dissipating when you heard his laugh float through your ears.

“Yeah, yeah I guess that means it’s true too.”

With a small smile stretching at your lips, you grabbed his hands and almost got lost in the cerulean color of his eyes.

“So does this mean, we’re okay? For right now at least. I know there’s still so much that we have to work through I just wanna make sure that-”

“-Y/n. We’re okay. As long as you’re fine, I’m fine.”

Letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in you let yourself relax. You checked your phone and seeing as it was the middle of the night you looked back up at him.

“Guess we should call it a night, huh?”

Dalton nodded and pushed himself off the bed to turn off the light switch. When you realized his destination you stopped him, maybe a little too hastily.

“Wait! Can we leave the lights on?”

His expression softened and you saw a glimpse of that unbearable worry cross his features again, guilt quickly running through his veins again as you continued.

“And, can we sleep together? I just know I won’t be able to fall asleep if it’s just me…”

You were embarrassed to ask him for something so silly but there was no way you’d be able to just forget everything that happened, happened and be able to calm your mind down enough to sleep. With the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard slip through his lips, Dalton came back to the bed and motioned for you to scoot over.

“Of course. Whatever you need I’ll do.”

There was a reason why you fell for him as quickly as you did. There was something about how naturally attentive he was. Under that brooding artist exterior was somebody unconditionally tender despite his humane pitfalls. As you moved your body toward the edge of the bed closest to the wall, Dalton slipped into the bed lifting the covers so the both of you could get comfortable. As he laid down, you wormed yourself to snuggle as close as possible to his body.

“G’night y/n.”

“Goodnight.”

The silence you shared was comfortable but as time ticked by and Dalton’s breathing started to grow heavier, your mind started to wander and grow even more restless. Perhaps it was the newly attached fear of what was entailed when Dalton shut his eyes or maybe it was the fact your eyes were playing tricks on you and you kept seeing figures in the corner of the dorm by your bed. The lights in the room were all on so it’s not like shadows were playing games with you. There was just something you knew wasn’t right and you couldn’t quite place it.

Placing your leg to rest across Dalton’s, you moved more onto your side and clutched your fist into his shirt. Feeling that if you held onto him tighter somehow, someway he’d be less likely to drift away from you. Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to shut your eyes. Convincing yourself that your anxiety was bedeviling you to imagine things that weren’t there. Finding solace in hearing the steady pace of Dalton’s heartbeat, your body finally drifted into sleep.

~*~

When your eyes finally fluttered open, Dalton was gone, and the light in the room came from the sun poking through the blinds of the windows. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, when your eyes refocused you could’ve sworn you saw something crouched in the corner by your bed. Feeling your heartbeat accelerate you quickly jumped from the bed and turned on the overhead lights. Feeling safer with the light shining in all the corners that left you with uncertainty.

Finding your phone in the sheets you saw you had about 30 minutes before your first class. Grabbing your toiletry bag, you walked to the bathrooms to get yourself ready for the day. Some people were walking in and out of the bathrooms but not nearly as many when it’s earlier in the morning. In your peripherals, you kept track of the bodies that came and went, which meant you were completely aware when you realized you were the only one in the bathroom.

You examined your body. All of the now garnet markings were now fully settled into your skin and you stared at yourself in pity. Wondering for a swift moment, what you looked like from an outside perspective. Quelling your thoughts, you began brushing your teeth, staring down the bathroom through the mirrors, you kept track of the bottom half of the stalls making sure that you saw no unusual shadows forming. Your anxiety was turning into paranoia and it was getting hard to ignore. Everything from the building settling to a bird flying past the window had you on edge.

Leaning down to spit the remainder of your toothpaste out, you let your guard down a tiny bit. Finishing rinsing your mouth out, when you brought your head back up from the sink a contorted face was behind you in your reflection. The horror that chilled your bones left you frozen when you made contact with a familiar pair of amber irises. The peeling skin on the red and black face behind you was enough to give you nightmares for the next five decades.

Your scream died in your throat, because who would believe you if you told them what you saw? Turning around to face your consternation, you were immediately stunned as you realized there was nothing behind you. It was just you in the bathroom and the now haunting sound of the faucet running. You tried to calm your breathing but you just decided to grab your bag and book it out of the bathroom suddenly not feeling safe, anywhere.

Going back inside your dorm, you were grateful that your class was online today. You didn’t think you’d be able to make it through the process of dressing yourself knowing there’d be a moment in time where you wouldn’t be able to see your surroundings. Grabbing your computer, you sat on Dalton’s bed, needing to be able to see every nook and cranny of the room. Logging into the video call for your class, you started to feel exhausted and almost estranged from your body.

You focused a little bit more when you heard your professor’s voice come through the speakers but it wasn’t for long until you felt yourself drifting away again. As your class was getting ready to wrap up, Dalton pushed through the door canvas first. You wouldn’t have noticed him if his canvas wasn’t whacking against the door. You gave him a small nod acknowledging him and stared back at your screen, almost getting lost in the pixels.

As your professor gave her goodbyes, you felt your eyes growing heavy and soon you were overcome with sleep. Realizing you could relax now with Dalton in the room with you. As your head bobbed, your body woke you up from the sudden movement and you felt like you weren’t connected with yourself. As if you were two separate entities but still in the same body. It felt like you were in a video game watching someone control you.

As Dalton set all of his stuff down, you stretched your arms out looking at him with unintentional doe eyes. He came over to you, letting you wrap your arms around his slim waist as his hands gently caressed your cheeks. Dropping his hands to your shoulders he tried to read your features before asking.

“Everything okay while I was gone?”

You thought about your answer for a moment, almost not wanting to share what you saw earlier today. It felt like something was blocking your ability to speak but you shoved the feeling down with the comfort of your worry standing right in front of you. If you guys were gonna get through this at all you had to be completely transparent with one another.

“I saw this thing while I was in the bathroom today. It had a red and black face and the same yellow eyes as you did last night. Scared the hell outta me.”

As you recited the event to Dalton, his eyes carried a knowing dread, but before he could get the chance to offer any deliberate thought, you suddenly felt overwhelmingly touchy. Pulling at his belt loops to bring him closer to you, you began bunting your face into his stomach. Needing to feel him on you in some sort of capacity.

You felt yourself beginning to drift away from your body again but this time you leaned into the feeling. Falling victim to a conjuration you weren’t even aware of yet. The moment in the bathroom where you held a deep gaze, full of terror with that decrepit monster was one where your body was no longer your own. You know you had to fight for the flesh vessel that was your own but the feelings you had brewing were taking precedence over the ordeal.

“Missed you today. It got so lonely while you were away.”

Dalton was in a state of muddled confusion. His hands were no longer offering you the comfort they did when he first came in, but now he was using them to push you away, attempting to get a better look at you. When you resisted him pushing your body away, he sighed above you trying to find his words.

“Y/n, we can’t just not talk about what you saw. That thing is haunting you now too.”

It was like listening to a conversation between two people inside your head. Whatever you wanted to say would die the moment you opened your mouth and something else wildly different would escape instead.

“I’m not afraid of it anymore–besides, I don’t wanna talk about it right now. I just want you.”

Patting his bed, you told him to sit which he did hesitantly. Once he was on your level, you nestled your head in the conjunction of his neck and shoulders meet. Inhaling his scent discreetly enough that it could be mistaken for a deep breath, his smell made you woozy. Intoxicated.

“I just wanna make you feel good.”

Your eyes were lidded so when Dalton craned his neck to respond to you, he couldn’t quite see your eyes.

“Y/n, I don’t think we should~mm!”

His words suddenly grew stale on his tongue as you moved your body to kiss him. As his eyes widened, you closed yours conveying your need for him. He took a few seconds to reciprocate the gesture, but once he did you took full opportunity to get him on his back and present himself to you. You broke the kiss so that his legs could fully get on the bed and you were swift to straddle him.

Gunning for his lips again, you didn’t give him much time for refusal. Your hands wandered his body committing all of curves to memory. Breaking the kiss, you allowed him to catch his breath but within seconds you were on his jawline placing open mouthed kisses along his skin. Moving your attack to his neck, you found his sweet spot tucked right below his ear. Dalton whined out and it was apparent that the noise that came out of him surprised him by how quickly he silenced himself. He couldn’t see it but there was a wicked smile that spread across your face knowing he was right where you needed him.

“Don’t go silent on me, baby. I wanna hear you scream.”

Licking a stripe up from the base of his neck to his sweet spot, you bit at the skin. A small moan followed by a hiss escaped his mouth and when you pulled away you were pleased that the mark you left looked similar to your own. You started to feel Dalton relax into the feeling of the pleasure you were giving him and you started to feel the bulge in his pants begin to strain against the fabric. Returning your assault to his slightly swollen lips now, you rolled your hips over his. Barely satisfying the ache you were beginning to feel pool between your legs.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from him and began to snake your hand down his body, your head hovering over the trail you made till you met the hem of his jeans. Taking one finger, you swiped across the fabric, your nails gently scratching at the skin above it. Goosebumps blooming across his skin, you heard him whine above you.

“Y/n/n, please.”

With the angle you were at, a derisive smirk cast on your face but Dalton couldn’t see that. Unbuckling his belt and undoing the zipper and button of his pants, you finally looked up at him. Your smirk turning into a full on grin when you saw the fear that quickly painted his features. His body froze and his breathing became labored, trying to persuade himself into thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him. But as he blinked rapidly, the scene in front of him didn’t change.

Those golden irises had replaced the eyes he had grown so fond of. The grin that stayed plastered on your face was discomposing to him and gratifying to your own desire. You palmed his dick through the fabric and that motion brought him back to his body. Trying to squirm out from underneath you flared your hand and an invisible force kept his body pinned to the bed. Coming back up to be face to face with Dalton, your smile faded and your eyebrows furrowed with feigned worry.

Petting his cheek, he tried to move away from your hand but his attempt was futile. Whatever was pinning him down had no intentions of letting him go any time soon. With an ersatz version of sympathy painting your features you finally spoke. Your voice altered a familiar rasp in your tone.

“Don’t you want me, Dalton?”

Snaking back down to his undone pants, you pulled them off with his underwear just enough so that his weeping, blush tipped cock was freed from its confinements. As his cock rested on his stomach, you flattened your tongue to drag up from his balls to his tip. Dalton’s body reluctantly rolled up in reaction to how sensitive he was.

“Don’t you want me to make you feel good, baby?”

Grabbing the base of his cock, you gathered up enough spit to dangle a wad down onto his tip. Circling his tip with your tongue, your hand collected the spit and spread it down his shaft. Fully encasing your mouth around his tip, Dalton hissed at the unexpected action. Prodding your tongue out against his shaft every time your head bobbed down, Dalton’s body was squirming at the newfound euphoria he was feeling.

Picking up your pace, you slowed down every time his sounds got a little bit louder, wanting to see how long he could hold out for. As he involuntarily rolled his hips into your mouth, you pulled off of him completely causing a small whine to squeeze past his lips. Dalton was so wrapped up in the feeling of your body sending him into a state of sexual haze that almost forgot it wasn't really you. As your possessed form hovered over his face again, you continued to stroke his cock as you spoke.

“To think you spent all the time taking care of her last night just to let the same thing happen to you…”

Suddenly the pressure that he once felt on his body was gone and he turned his face away so he wouldn’t have to commit your yellowed eyes to memory. A flash of impassioned rage coursed through your veins as you brought your free hand to grab the sides of his face forcing him to look at you.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you. You’re both disgusting getting off on this, but for some reason, I think you’ll have an easier time admitting your guilt.”

Dalton’s eyes widened in fear and realization of what his body was about to release. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes rolled back allowing only the whites of his eyes to be seen. You relished in his irrefutable ecstasy and moved back down to his heavy cock. Wrapping your lips around his prurient length, you massaged his balls and with a few bobs of your head, Dalton released his load into your mouth. The velocity of his spurts of cum tickling the back of your throat.

Dalton was in a hazed rapture. Fighting with his morals of how wrong the situation was but how good it all felt. His legs stiffened and he fisted his hands into his sheets in a desperate attempt to ground himself from the absolute pleasure coursing through him. You continued sucking at his length, overstimulating, and milking him of all he had. The moans that left him were airy but frequent, with the occasional low tone coming through them. You couldn’t deny the pulsing that was happening between your legs every time a sound left him. He was completely at your mercy

“Stop stop stop.”

When the pleasure became too much, Dalton pushed at your head to get you off of him. The overstimulation pushed him to a state he had never been in before. As Dalton tried to catch his breath, you removed yourself from your underwear and placed your heat on top of his length rolling your hips to get some type of friction. You were hungry, needy for some type of sexual zeal and there was only one thing that could satisfy this ache. Dalton.

Dalton’s eyes were heavy and shameless, still recovering from the aftershocks of his orgasm he writhed in tandem with the movement of your hips. Slowly examining his face, you carded your fingers through his hair, moving back a few stray pieces. He looked completely fucked out, so much so that you almost felt he didn’t deserve anything else.

Placing your lips upon his, you dribbled some of his cum back into his mouth. His eyes blew open and his cries were muffled. The sudden taste of his own briny and tangy juices being spat into his mouth was more than unexpected. When you pulled away from him, there was a concoction of spit and cum smeared around his mouth. Gripping his face in your hand again, your amber eyes held a certain dominance and wicked enjoyment that sent chills up Dalton’s spine. Whether out of fear or arousal, he couldn't place nor did he have the capacity to after your demand.

“Swallow.”

As Dalton was overcome with an overzealous desire gift wrapped in terror, he failed to notice your body moving for its next attack. Before Dalton had the chance to realize what was going on, his ruined and wanton cock was slipped into your beatific cunt. The moan that left Dalton was whorish in nature and barely sounded like it was his own.

“Shit!”

Without missing a beat you began bouncing on his cock with complete and utter ardor and empressement. Each time your lower bodies connected your clit so deliciously rubbed against him sending lascivious chills across your skin and an aching pulse within your walls. Dalton’s head was rubbing into the pillow beneath him, his eyes closed in what felt like divine ecstasy. Again, you were met with an overwhelming urge to reprimand him. Raising your hand mid air, it gained enough speed to usher a slap that echoed in the room.

His eyes opened immediately, stupified by the sting that was spidering across the surface of his skin. Switching to roll your hips so you could get as much friction on your meretricious cunt. You were leaking all over him, your sickeningly angelic juices were marking him as your own. Panting and grounding himself to find his voice, Dalton looked up at you, eyes and body drunk on your pussy.

“Why, why did you slap me?”

Something similar to a growl rumbled in your throat as a sinful giggle left your mouth.

“Aww, baby, did it hurt? Here, I’ll kiss it better.”

Slowing down your hips, you leaned forward and sloppily licked over Dalton’s cheek and then leaving what resembled a tender kiss on his skin. The small act of tenderness made a glimmer of hope bubble in his stomach thinking that maybe the worst was over. But as you moved away from his cheek, he was unfortunately still met with your yellowed irises. Dalton didn’t have long to stare before you ducked your head down again, licking at the barely dried concoction of cum and spit that was still littered around his mouth.

Cleaning up the mess with your tongue you straightened yourself out, placing your hands on his torso taking him in in such a state. Caressing your hands down the sides of his ribcage a filthy idea conquered your mind. Grabbing Dalton’s wrists, you placed his hands on your hips and smiled down at him.

“Fuck me. Like it’s the only thing your good for. Make me cum.”

Like a dog, he was quick to action. Situating himself so that he had better leverage, Dalton began pounding into you from underneath. He was whining, whimpering, and had the most endearing face of focus. Eyebrows furrowed, lips curled around his teeth trying to pacify his sounds, and a thin sheen of sweat on his brow.

“Fuck! I-I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last. Y/n~ah!”

“Aww, you’re gonna cum? Did you ask if you could fucking cum?”

“No, no I didn’t. I’m s-sorry.”

You gripped his face again, making sure that he’d see flash images of this for days. Pushing on the sides of cheeks, you forced his mouth to pry open prepping a wad of spit in your own.

“Open.”

Dalton complied and you set free the wad of spit directly into his mouth and he swallowed without instruction to do so. With his hips stilled you started bouncing on his cock again, relishing in how each inch slid in and out of you. The stretch of his length alerting you to something else. Your walls were clenching around his throbbing cock and he moaned out in protest.

“Please, please let me cum!”

“Beggin' now?”

Your tone was disgustingly smug, the demon possessing you well aware of what it was doing to your relationship. As if someone just woke you up from a nap, suddenly the pleasure that your body was feeling was becoming more and more overwhelming. You were becoming more aware and what entity that was fronting as you was beginning to fade away. Dalton’s voice hissing out in utter euphoria brought you back to your body completely.

“Fuck, please! I can’t hold it.”

You couldn’t stop your body from its carnal instinct to keep moving and to run over that precipice of full body bliss. As the warmth exploded in your core, your body gushed over Dalton’s. The euphoria your body felt unable to control how it escaped you. As you were coming down from your high, your body was still moving and you felt your walls become stained with a fountain of ivory strokes. The sound that left Dalton was so choked and full of fervor, you couldn’t help the involuntary fluttering your flooded pussy had around his cock.

The room was sticky and hot, the only sound being the heavy breaths from both of you trying to calm your bodies down. You weren’t sure whether to move or to just continue staring at Dalton’s limp form. Running your hands through his hair, his eyes fluttered open, more than delighted to see the warmness of your eyes back. The vibrant yellow hue nowhere to be seen. The confused haze you were in earlier was not present either. You were completely aware and were contending with the fact that it happened again. What you didn’t expect was the faint apology that came from Dalton.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

“For what?”

“All of this.”

You sighed not entirely sure if you should be having this conversation while he was still winding down and still inside of you.

“Let’s save the serious conversations for when we’re not fucked out and the room doesn’t smell of sex.”

Dalton chuckled lightly, feeling so relieved that it was you again. His intuition hadn’t proved him wrong yet but he felt like there was no way this could occur a third time. Whatever that entity wanted it got and that was satisfactory enough for him. Sliding off of Dalton, you laid on your side next to him.

“We should probably go wash up, huh?”

Dalton nodded but he didn’t make any motion to move. Instead, he grabbed your body and pulled you closer to him.

“Yeah, but let’s just lay here for a moment. I need to remember what you feel like.”

Letting your hand wander up to his hair again, you carded through his locks admiring his face. He leaned into the feeling, pushing his face into your hand as you caressed down his face. Swiping your thumb across his cheek a small shred of doubt crept up.

“We gonna be okay?”

Dalton laughed through his nose, the sentiment absolving you of your doubt.

“Yeah, y/n. We’re gonna be okay.”

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