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hes-writer · 3 years

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Patreon Masterlist

These are exclusive fics that you can read on my Patreon!

* = complete, ^ = in-progress, + = will be posted on tumblr, (s) = smut (implied or mentioned) writing count: 78 pieces

**billing cycle currently paused** | new patrons will still be charged

This is a reupload of my masterlist with sneak peeks of each piece so you know what's up :D

Multi-Part Series | One Shots | Drabbles | Extras

* Unwavering (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) - 6.5k, the one where harry cheats (again)

"Right. Maybe we can go out tonight to grab some dinner," She suggested, a hopeful glint in her eyes and he almost felt guilty for putting her on the back burner of his mind. "I really have to go, baby," Peeking his head around her frame, he spotted the untouched toast and apple juice resting on where he should be. "I'm sorry."

^ + Roommate Series (3) (4) (5) (6) - 9.8k, the one where harry and y/n are roommates

He sighed, “I finished my coffee ages ago. I was just waiting for you to finish studying so we could leave together and go home,” Y/N dropped her fingers from his wrist, slouching the slightest bit as butterflies attacked her stomach. “Don’t look at me like that. I just wanted you to get home safe,” He nudged her forehead with the ball of his palm, his face contorting to annoyance.

^ + Notes on Camp (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) - 16.5k, the one where harry and y/n are camp counsellors

Y/N looked around to be met with puckered lips and clenched hands as the campers practically requested for her to kiss their favourite counsellor. Wide, hopeful stares were willing her to commit.

“Alright, alright,” She bent her upper body to reach his cheek, licking over her lips once before pressing it on his skin. It was only a quick peck and then she pulled back. He stayed unmoving.

Jacky and Emy poked their finger at him on opposite sides. His cheek dimpling with their small indents. “Maybe you should do it again?”

* Friends Don't (1) (2) (3)- 3k, the one where lines are crossed

“It’s Harry Styles fanfiction on Tumblr,” She suggested a conversation, shyly smiling in embarrassment. “I can see that,” He murmured, using his thumb to scroll through the rest of the story, “It’s . . . interesting. People write these about me?” His retort made the situation seem like an utter surprise.

* Digress, Progress, Regress Series - 5k, the one where harry falls out of love

Y/N wondered if there was a chance to fixing what has been lost--what has disappeared as the canvas soaked through in a permeated osmosis. Coating the brush of blue with white paint took several layers to completely cover the mistakes. There had to be an effort in wanting to make the faults and errors completely opaque from the eye; the bleary, watery irises soaked with tears, dampening her lashes in a thick haze as she cried.

Tickle Fights (1) - 1.2k, the one where bff!y/n teases harry about his boner

“What’s going on here, Harry?” The light tone of her voice indicated that she was teasing him, paired with the subtle movements of her lower half. Harry whined in response, feeling the blood rush downwards to make him even stiffer. “Does this feel good? Got hard over me straddling you, huh?” It was almost degrading, the way Y/N formed her question yet Harry couldn’t help a whimper from lingering in the air. He nodded, hands sliding down to grip at her moving hips.

Real Mature (1) (2) - part two is patron exclusive! - 603 words, the one where bff!harry and y/!n fight

“You shouldn’t have. I’m sorry for being bitter about you and Ruby,” She rested her forearms on his shoulders in a slant when he stood to his full height. “I know you’re happy with her,” Harry gave her a shy smile that confirmed his words. Ruby is someone special to Harry now and Y/N had to learn how to share his time, attention, and affection. “I reckon I’m just missing you a lot more now,” Y/N’s tone was sad and despondent, trailing her gaze to the floor where she almost chuckled at Harry’s fuzzy bunny slippers which she had gotten him.

^ Fine Line Series: Adore You - 1.1k the one where harry and y/n are friends with benefits

Still, with her back against the wall and Harry’s fingers still gripping her hips—she waited for his response. I told you I loved you. Say it back, Y/N thought. “I love her, Y/N,” He mumbled against her neck in a drunken stupor. So close.

Kinkmas Blurbs (1 - 7) - 4.6k, the one where it’s all smutty

Maybe it was the way that his jaw ticked harshly every time he threw his head back at a particularly good stroke. You wondered what he was imagining that had him bucking his hips to his fist before realizing that the movements would probably cause you to wake up. Still, his hooded lids didn’t peel open—not until a core shaking fondle of his heavy balls forced a choked whine out of his throat.

Harry’s neck snapped to your figure, catching the way you looked at him as if you were in distress that he wasn’t cumming anytime soon—not when you were there, willing and able to help.

“Fuck, love. ‘M sorry,” He mumbled, not stopping the flicks of his wrist. In fact, you swore that you could hear the squelching of his clear pre-cum squishing between his fingers.

The Secretary (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) 11k, the one where harry is the CEO and y/n is the assistant (cheating fic)

Two months ago, Y/N unburied a not-so-hidden secret that Harry tried to bury. Two months ago, Y/N walked in on her boyfriend and his secretary fucking on his office table. Two months ago, Y/N experienced everything from pain and discomfort, to disappointment and being scornful. She threaded the line of confronting him or waiting for the day he came forward and admitted it himself. There was a desire for Y/N to see Harry sweat beneath her beady eyes, watching him scratch the back of his pants in a nervous manner. She wanted to hear him stutter as he spat an excuse, she yearned to see him pleading with his gorgeous green eyes for her to stay. Y/N craved for his throat to close up, whimpers choked from his trachea because he was losing his stability as she walked away from him.

(s) Tension (1) (2) - 5.3k, the one where harry and y/n hate each other

“S’that why you hate me so much?”

His fingertips tapped his thigh methodically, crumpling a faint thud against his jeans. With how close they were sitting, Y/N’s bare knee brushed against his clothing. A burn of desire and anticipation lit inside of her like a dose of gasoline another in a flaming hot fire.

Harry shook his head, “Don’t hate you."

Champagne Problems- 4.4k, the one where marriage is a sensitive topic, the 1 - coming soon!

The freshly popped bottle of champagne poured into the flute on the table beside her bubbled and simmered, the sizzling reaction of the golden liquid ignited a moment of realization within her. The reason why her body felt more weighted, why tears filled her glazed eyes, pricking her corneas and threatening to spill down her face. Y/N’s heart had cracked–she was certain that everybody around her could hear it.

One Shot

(s) Achy Back - 813 words, the one where harry draws y/n a bath

A pout sat on her face as Harry stopped himself from ducking his head and catching her plush lips with his, craving the sweet taste of her and her strawberry lip balm. Her arms wrapped around his snatched waist, halting his breath at the tightness of her embrace and settling for a kiss on her forehead, the scent of her shampoo wafting in his nostrils, knowing that she had taken shower hours prior.

A Letter to the Man I’ve Loved - 1.5k, the one where harry receives a letter from his ex

Is it really worth it to look back in retrospect about ‘what had been’ when she can think about ‘what could have been’ if both of them realized their faults? Granted, he was more resilient in that sense than her, but he was no better at the time. She made mistakes and it had haunted her to this day, practically killing her with each moment she spent without him by her side.

Renegade - 981 words, the one where harry and y/n do a tiktok dance

“What are y’doing?” Harry asked, his eyes wide as his large palms ruffled the fluffy towel on his damp curls. The steam from the bathroom escaped to your bedroom where you were panting with effort, your chest heaving so hard that the peaks of your breasts rose with each breath.

“Uh, what are you doing?” You retorted slowly, hiding your hands behind your back were your fingers gripped your phone. Your thumb dug hard on the volume bottom, frantically trying to decrease the music from the phone speaker.

(s) Drop the Towel - 644 words, the one where harry does the ‘drop the towel’ challenge

You gasped at the sight, the knife clanging on the marble counter, “Ooh, hi there,”

He smirked cockily, watching your eyes observe his body, tongue subconsciously peeking out between your lips until you snapped your head to the window, “Oh my god! There are people out there, Harry!” You wailed in alarm, bending over to hand him his towel.

All I Ask - 2.2k, the one where feelings aren’t mutual

“I don’t want to be scared of what will happen tomorrow or if all we have is right now because we’ll have nothing left but I am,” A sob ripped through his throat, emotions were heightened tenfold because she was so close yet so far and they were still Harry and Y/N but at the same time they weren’t. They’ve changed over the span of one night. “All we have is tonight,”

Little Prince - 583 words, the one where 7-year-old harry takes care of his best friend

“Y/N? Y/N! Are you okay? I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I swear I wasn’t mad at you, I was just jok- Why are you smiling?” Harry yelped, panic evident in his shrill voice. His hands wandered towards her face, tilting it left to right, up and down, searching for any visible and invisible injuries besides the bump on her forehead.

Stressed Out - 1.8k, the one where y/n has a huge term paper due

“What d’ya mean I don’t get it?” He closed the paperback, making sure to clip in his bookmark to save his spot.

A pregnant pause slithered the room. Her fingers typing against the keys of her laptop ceased as she shot him a glare, “You’re not studying, are you? All you do is write songs, fiddle with a few instruments and sing it in front of people who adore you,”

Valentine’s Day - 1.5k, the one where harry runs into trouble and y/n is there to save him

“Shit! Are you crazy?” Y/N gasped in surprise when the passengers seat was occupied, the door opening and slamming shut all while the car moved at a speed of 15 km/h —cursing her forgetfulness for not clicking the locks shut.

“Keep driving!” The passenger shouted, looking back through the windshield.

Dream With Me - 1.3k, the one where y/n has trouble sleeping

Harry’s admiration gets interrupted when a sudden jolt took over Y/N’s body. He dropped his mouth open a little in shock, rubbing her back soothingly when she whimpered quietly, “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe with me,” She must have had experienced one of those moments when she was falling until her vision drooped to a shaded black.

Pet Name - 1.2k, the one where bff!harry just wants y/n to call him by his pet name again

His voice emulated a soft, syrupy tone that lingered in the air whenever he spoke. He was the colour honey itself–golden and yellow like the colour of the sun. Harry was bright in its sense of intelligence and the way he illuminated the whichever room he entered. His kindness catered to everyone’s needs and left pieces of his heart wherever he went.

Harry was honey.

Shave - 768 words, the one where harry helps y/n shave her coochie

She sniffles some more, “I’m trying to shave, H. It’s so itchy but I-I can’t reach down there,”

Y/N began to sob. The rattle of the razor clanking on the bathtub floor where she sat her bum on the edge. Her baby bump was causing her to teeter over the porcelain which urged Harry to swiftly plant his hands on her to keep her steady.

“I’m so huge! I’m the size of a house,” Y/N palmed the crest of her bump, rubbing it loosely as she admired the stretched skin yet slightly wishing that it would disappear and she was holding their baby in her arms instead.

(s) Don’t Worry, Darling - 1.5k, the one where y/n rides harry

He slipped down the headboard, resting his back flat on the mattress with Y/N sliding with him. She positioned her feet to rest near his knees, wrapping their limbs together so she could have some sort of sanity whilst Harry incepted on his shattering thrusts. Feet were planted on the mattress to give his lower half elevation to propel his hips against Y/N’s core. Harry’s fingers left white marks on her skin, gripping the plush flesh and essentially spreading Y/N open as he rapidly shoved his dick over and over inside of her with no signs of slowing down. He staggered for a few moments when her pulsing core emitted dazing throbs over his leaking cock but Y/N was quick to duplicate and resume the pace he had set with the movement of her hips.

To Be Loved - 2.3k, the one where y/n’s feelings are more than friendly

“I love you. Don’t you love me back?”

Harry’s eyes visibly widened, clearly taken aback by the question spewing from Y/N’s mouth. Her heat cheeks and a shy stance; knees knocking against his knobby ones while her dainty hands interlaced her fingers.

Revelation - 2.1k, the one where famous!y/n and harry are spotted together (pre-relationship)

Before there were Harry and Y/N--the power couple--there was Harry and Y/N.

Y/N, who was one of the most sought after female artists in the industry because of her angelic voice. The woman who had managed to catch the lingering stares of every household and the ears of many listeners with her truthful songs; narrative from the experiences she had gone through and shared through the art of songwriting.

Harry, who was quite the artist for the night. Harry’s limbs were being pulled metaphorically every which to ensure that the cameras captured him clapping respectfully in the audience. Others were asking him to stay for a bit more time backstage for content for an upcoming video. Right now, he was sat in his uncomfortable chair beside a handful of producers and well-known singers. A brief hug and whisper with Ariana Grande were enough for their fans to implode about a possible collaboration, granted that Harry had written a song for her album before. But Harry was certain that that feature wasn’t coming for a long while.

Apple Cheeks - 1.1k, the one where harry says something and y/n isn’t listening

Clearing his throat, he began, “I love you, Y/N. And I know that it might be too soon considering how short our relationship has been so far but I-I really do have strong feelings for you,”

Harry dropped his gaze as soon as he managed to peel off the first three words from his hoarse throat. “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to let you know that I really care for you and me. I definitely something for us in the future and I hope you feel the same,”

Dreadful seconds shivered up Harry’s spine. His stare was still fixed on her shuffling feet and the floor. It was painful to hear nothing but silence so Harry decided to courageously lift his head up.

Affliction - 1.5k, the one where Harry breaks down (TW: depressive thoughts)

It wasn’t even that Harry did not know how to say ‘no’ because he truly did. However, anyone would be worn-out by the amount of exhaustion carried on his back. That cold shudder of loneliness--even when he wasn’t alone-- because nobody shared the experience of defeat with him. The twitch of his ears straining to listen when nobody would do the same for him. A subtle jerk of the corners of his lips because he could not keep the smile plastered on his face like paint chipping off the drywalls. The flutter of tired lids waiting to be shut tightly as tears were wrung from his green eyes, lashes tickling his skin underneath the violent colour of his eye bags.

From the Dining Table - 748 words, the one where y/n’s new boyfriend looks a lot like harry

Y/N wondered if her former lover shared the same thoughts as she did. The girl that he woke next to—was she still there? Did they share the bed together—not just in the morning—but the nights as well? If so, did Harry love her like he did with Y/N? Or was he just pretending to be okay like she was?

Blanket for Two - 990 words, the one where y/n kicks harry out of bed

And now, Harry was in bed with the woman he loves. Her light snores echoing in the dim room and he was staring up at the ceiling, shivering in his bones. If she were awake, Y/N probably would have made a snide, joking comment about how he shouldn’t sleep naked, especially in the winter. Not like she didn’t do that either--she was practically naked with the thin camisole over her body. The difference was that Y/N had an extra layer of blanket keeping her warm, shielding her skin from the night air and Harry only had the friction of his palms rubbing against his arms. He was sure that he was a hint away from his teeth chattering. Harry had half the mind to dip his freezing feet beneath the blanket and jolt her awake with the change in temperature.

That’ll show her, he thought.

Around 1:32 - 3.2k, the one where y/n has a wet dream

“What?” Harry spat, tugging his shirt over his head, waiting for you to form a coherent excuse. “‘Think that jus’ because you woke up horny from a dream that y’can touch yourself? What a slut. Are you that desperate?”

Your cheeks flamed at his words of degradation, doubling your arousal and one that had you smushing your thighs together to relieve the ache. You rolled your eyes as he continued his rant instead of using the time to keep you satisfied. That was his job, wasn’t it? To make you cum and make you feel nothing but pleasure, yet here he was shaming you for touching yourself. Granted, you did it without his permission and done so while he was asleep beside you, but still.

“Wouldn’t have touched myself if you treated me well.”

+ Stories in My Eyes - 1.2k, the one where dad!Harry gets woken up in the middle of the night

And while he liked to think that he had gotten the hang of—quite literally— his kid dangling on his leg like some sort of koala, pulling on his hair every time he gave Beau a piggy back ride, and the random visits late at night where the small child would stand at the doorway with his teddy bear so quietly only to say, “Can I sleep with you and mumma?” He was not at all prepared for tonight’s’ events.

+ Feather Boa - 1.5k, the one where harry comes home after the Grammys

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Oh, stop that!”

“Stop what?” Harry nudged the strap of his custom tote bag higher on his shoulder.

“You just won a Grammy, you goose!”

Harry’s gaze softened, endeared at how happy Y/N was for him. She was jumping on the tips of her toes, hands clasped in front of her as she stared at him with admiration and awe.

(s) Roughed Up - 2.8k, the one where harry’s domestic and y/n’s mind wanders

You whimper in return, almost collapsing straight on his body when Harry uses your body to move you up and down his cock. His curls flop on the soft pillow beneath his head, sweat matting the tiny hairs to his face. The way he looks at you with such intensity and a certain kind of awe as if he couldn’t believe that this was really happening is rewarding. Hooded eyes observing how your body twitches in his grip, gasping at how strong he felt underneath you like you were merely a ragdoll to be played wit

Pudding Cups - 1k, the one after harry steals food from the kitchen (Notes on Camp Extras)

“So is it common practice for counsellors to steal food from the kitchen?”

Harry lifts his head up at inquiry, shifting his attention from gently taking out the contents of the reusable bag towards Y/N. She was laying on his mattress, flat on her back as she stared at the wooden ceiling. If she looked closely, Y/N was sure that his light bulb was flickering the tiniest bit and usually, she would’ve been freaking out over the fact that she was in the middle of the woods, hovering over a potential power cut. But the fear subsided once she reminded herself that Harry was around.

“Hopefully not,” He muses with a suggestive eyebrow.

Drabbles:

(s) Drabble #1: Fratboy!Harry - 469 words, the one where y/n meets fratboy!harry at a party

Y/N snapped her head towards the member. When she applied for the rush, she didn’t expect that she would have to sleep with someone in order to officially join the sorority. “What? Why him?

Sadie chuckled, sensing the panic in her voice. “Don’t worry, Harry’s nice. Besides, everybody does it,” She swirled her drink around, mixing the liquids together. Her lashes draped over her cheeks, almost touching the apples. “Are you in?”

Drabble #2: Asshole!Harry - 848 words, the one where harry cheats

You were calm, silent, and patient to see where he would take the conversation. Guilt was not present when you stood face to face in a battle of tranquility that pierced through your heart. His eyes gleamed in concealed smugness while his tongue curled in endless apologies. You knew him too well that he didn’t even stand a chance to hide his true intentions. But to Harry, you were a naive little girl that failed to acknowledge the difference between his acting and the truth.

(s) Drabble #3: Tease - 1.4k, the one where harry teases y/n

Harry plunged two fingers in her hole carefully, biting his lip to suppress the sound he was bound to release from the feeling of her wet walls suffocating his digits. He delivered punctual thrust, making sure to graze her sensitive spot to heighten her arousal. “Harry,”

He stepped back abruptly, pulling his fingers out and creating distance between them. “We have dinner to get to,”

(s) Drabble #4: Dessert - 1.7k, the one where y/n makes dinner but harry wants dessert

His thoughts were always about her no matter how hard he tried not to. And the fact that she took the time out of her day to prepare him something that he will enjoy; well, Harry’s heart just about swelled up to three times the size in his thumping chest.

She pulled away, shaking her head adamantly, “No way! I spent all day cooking and you’re not gonna skip it just to eat my pussy,”

He the corners of his eyes squinted in offence at her description, “Your pussy’s top tier, baby.” Harry ‘tsked’ his tongue, “If yeh didn’t know that already, then I’m doing a horrid job,”

(s) Drabble #5: Mine - 579 words, the one where harry is obsessed with y/ns tits

But he couldn’t exactly do that when all Harry wanted to do was do her. The smooth skin was supported by a navy blue push-up bra; he could tell by the lace mesh that he could see peeking out. It gave Y/N every favour because Harry was trying so hard not to let saliva pool in his mouth and drip out in a line of drool, his eyes widening with each movement she made with her arms, jostling her boobs a little bit here and there.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Y/N waved her arms to catch his attention. A frown creased her brows as he blinked sluggishly before finding enough coherence to recognize that she was trying to talk to him.

(s) Drabble #6: Early Mornings - 1k, the one where harry thinks y/n is prettiest in the morning

“Get to see ya’ when you’re most beautiful,” Harry tickled his nose on hers, smiling at the way the feature scrunched up as she giggled. He groaned at the contractions her walls gave while her tummy flipped in gentle laughter. “Oi! What’s so funny?” He smushed her face with kisses, pausing his thrust halfway through which had her whining.

Drabble #7: Getaway - 952 words, the one where harry is always cold in the mornings

"Y/N, have you taken my purple bathrobe?"

“No,” Y/N tugged the lavender coloured fabric by the sleeves first. Then, by the lapels draping over her chest, drawing them tighter to block the gust of wind currently caressing Harry’s floppy curls.

Twisting his body, a knowing look overtook Harry’s face as Y/N exited the cabin door. The sheepish smile on his lover’s face granting all the information he needed for this morning’s chilly inception.

There she was, clad in the said purple bathrobe.

Drabble #8: A Little Chilly - 451 words, the one where harry sleeps on the couch

“‘S my bed. Dunno why Lydia can’t jus’ stay on the couch,”

“It’s Y/N!” She wailed, walking closer to the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Dear, we didn’t know that you were coming home,” Anne tried reasoning with him, not seeing the gravity of the situation as Harry was making it out to be.

Text Messages:

Text Messages #1 - ‘would you love me if I was snail?’

Text Messages #2 - ‘did you know we had a quiz today?’

Text messages #3 - ‘did you steal my hoodie?’

Notes/Behind the Scenes

Notes: Tarnish

Notes: Stressed Out

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #masterlist #hes-writer

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arambleaway · 3 years

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Lets pretend the lack of Phoenix backstory isn't a logical mechanical choice and instead treat it as a facet of the character because I think it has interesting implications. I saw a post that I can't find because I'm an idiot that mentioned how odd it really was in a story context that we never hear or see anything about his family and given my personal bias I have some thoughts. So. Treating it as a story feature. Lets begin.

I am extrapolating my ideas from a couple places. The first being that 1) Phoenix never really mentions his family so something happened to cause them to no longer be a part of each others' lives. 2) There is a seeming lack of grief and no mention even while on trial for murder in college. 3) Phoenix does not, to my eye, appear to hold the hallmarks of people growing up in an abusive household. But 4) He latches who he is onto other people with worrying intensity.

I'm merging these facts with my own belief that Phoenix is trans (disprove me I dare you) and my own observations as to what Phoenix is like as a parent. Also the fact that his name is Phoenix. Because honestly. So anyway. My conclusions are thus:

Phoenix is trans, but he didn't pick his name. He was named Phoenix at birth by his exceedingly law-hating hippie parents, which seems to be a popular idea from my narrow exposure. My view is that he was one of those kids that was like 7 and just knew. (Bastards. I love them but ugh. I wish) So Phoenix's parents being the amazingly supportive people they were, immediately swapped pronouns and even relocated him to another school so that he could have a fresh start without having to deal with a bunch of questions. The absolute bastard of a teacher nearly wrecks that (diatribe for another post) but Miles and Larry are enough to make them keep Phoenix in place because of how much the two mean to him.

Huh, guess this means Larry and Miles don't know about the trans thing. And even though they like Miles for hanging with Phoenix they aren't thrilled about Miles's hyperfixation. I bet it would be like when you go to a friends house they try to feed you except whenever Miles is over its like "try art!" or "have you ever thought of opening a business?" You could probably have some funny shenanigans as Miles, Larry, and Phoenix try to follow these kinds of suggestions in the most... them way possible.

So Phoenix's parents are super supportive throughout his childhood even reaching out to get him Miles's address though they aren't thrilled about Miles's Dad's job. Probably part of why Phoenix didn't know anything about Miles vanishing is that his parents didn't exactly care enough to ask.

A note though before moving into the reasons for the rift, are that while Phoenix's parents were super supportive, it was in a very hands off way. I'll get back to this.

So college comes around and Phoenix wants to take some law classes. Which his parent just are not thrilled or happy about. To the point where its like: fine, but we aren't going to pay for them. And then Phoenix sees Miles in the Paper and they are just... appalled. They refuse to pay for anymore of Phoenix's college and spend a rather taxing weekend trying to convince him to go back into art and trying to tell Phoenix that swapping majors for a man is ridiculous and law is nothing for a good sort like him. Oh. hehe, just had the thought that this is when Phoenix first watches Legally Blonde and it does the exact opposite of what his parents were hoping.

So they are arguing and by the end of the weekend they, honestly rather cordially, tell Phoenix that he is their son and they love him but cannot condone his choice. And he can take what he likes from his things in the house. They'll keep it all for him so that he can have it there when he comes to his senses and finds a decent career. But until then, it would be best if they didn't see him. Thus, Phoenix goes back to university heartbroken and seriously questioning if he made the right choice. (He probably watches Legally Blonde more than he'll admit.)

Then Dahlia comes along and the worst possible moment, and he is absolutely gone because he is craving that validation affection offers and hey law must be good for something because the courthouse brought him his darling Dollie. He latches all his insecurity and worry into the idea of loving and being loved by Dahlia/Iris. Which then makes his defense of her make more sense to my demi brain because I cannot comprehend that level of dumbassery for love. Just personally. It also makes sense because he absolutely latches onto Edgeworth after the trial because doing so is safe in a sense. Edgeworth can't hurt him because he isn't there and even if they are saying he is evil, Phoenix can save him after all he proved law wasn't evil, he can prove Miles isn't either. Or actually, he has to prove Miles isn't evil because if he doesn't then his parents were right and he fucked up is a massive way. So it goes.

The parent thing though! Swooping back around to the whole independent, hands off style of parenting, I really strongly believe in that being how he grew up because that is exactly how he is with Trucy. People will emulate their parents' good parts when parenting themselves, so I think he really emulates that part of how he grew up. He trusts her to act independently and lets her have her space. But he is very clearly always there for her no matter what. (which ties into everything above see? Occasionally i have maybe a sense i know something about what I'm writing.)

So yeah. My zigzagging thoughts on why Phoenix is the way he is and the family he comes from. I guess just a last note is I don't think they ever reconcile. Especially not after the disbarment. They would see the news and just... crumple because they knew it, their darling son has been corrupted. Oh. ouch. They see that and empty out his room. And Phoenix sees it all sitting outside when he goes to try and talk to them. Oof. Oh. Why do I hurt myself like this. Maybe they even fucking move. They treat it like the death of a child and just leave. So Phoenix doesn't actually know where they are. Which might also contribute to the whole 7 years of depression he goes through. Ughh. Now I wanna think about that. NO. I have other shit that popped up. Later ramble, later.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #dahlia hawthorne #iris hawthorne #aa

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maladaptive---daydreamer · 4 years

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Fake it till you make it

You were never really one to receive post from home. Your parents would send you a letter every once in a while, sometimes a small care package towards the end of term, but they would come in black lidded boxes tied together with red silk ribbon. This was the precise reason why you were so confused when a school post owl dropped a crushed brown box in front of you and flew back to the owlery.

“What the hell is that?” Your best friend, Draco, asked, voice laced with disgust.

“I have no idea” you replied, cautiously picking the box up looking for a clue as to who the sender was.

“Well open it, don't leave us in suspense, Y/N” Daphne urged.

You ripped the brown parchment off the box to be greeted with a cake box from a bakery in Hogsmeade. You lifted the crumpled box lid off to reveal a small square carrot cake. It had been decorated with white icing, and a note had been piped on with orange icing.

“Go out with me?” Daphne read. “Oh my, you’re getting asked out! Does it say who the sender was?”

Draco looked at you suddenly interested in this delivery.

“No it doesn’t, and I’m glad it doesn't because I definitely don’t want to go out with the owner of this cake.” You replied, pushing the box away from you and returning to your breakfast.

“You don't mind if I take that do you, Y/N?” Crabbe asked, licking his lips.

“Go ahead, Crabbe.” You pushed the box towards them and both him and Goyle reached for the cake.

“Acting as though you’ve never seen a cake in your lives, you disgust me the pair of you” Draco sneered. He picked up the parchment the cake was wrapped in with two fingers and began to stare at it.

“What are you doing?” You asked, looking up from the page of the Daily Prophet you were reading

“I’m checking to see who sent it.”

“I already did that, there was no name on it.”

“You might have missed it”

“I can read, Malfoy”

“Well there doesn't seem to be a name on here, a shame really, I would have enjoyed watching you turn him down and embarrass him in front of the whole school”

“Who said I would have turned him down?”

“You did, just now,”

“I only said that because its an anonymously sent cake, it could have been poisoned for all I know. Had I known who the cake was from I would have reacted differently”

Draco looked confused for a second before getting up, announcing he was going to make his way to potions. You and Daphne did the same a few minutes later and met up with him again in the queue outside the classroom. You had potions with the Ravenclaws, which according to the sorting hat was its next choice for you, but it believed you’d be better suited in Slytherin. It meant that you managed to get along well with some of the Ravenclaw students. Before long, Slughorn called you all in and you took your usual seat at the back, taking up a four-seat bench with you, Daphne, Draco and Blaise. Today's lesson was about sleeping potions, Slughorn announced he would be pairing you up rather than you working with the person you sat alongside. He began reading off a list, pairing Daphne with your friend, Alicia, Draco with Marcus Belby and you with Terry Boot.

You reluctantly got up and moved to a station near the front of the room.

“Morning, Y/N” Terry greeted, oddly giddy for a Tuesday morning

“Morning, Terry” you replied, giving him a small smile. You read through the instructions in your textbook and began to chop up your ingredients.

“Anything interesting happen this morning?” He asked, looking up from the valerian root he was chopping.

“I did get a weird package at breakfast.”

“Oh, you did?”

“Yeah, someone tried to ask me out, bit stupid though they didn't leave their name”

“I did! it was on the inside of the lid”

“Pardon?”

“Erm yeah sorry about that. What I meant to say is that I sent it.”

“Oh, right, well” You were honestly speechless, you had maybe spoken to Terry once, apologising for Draco’s remark about his mother.

“It's just you’re so beautiful and smart, and you’re nice”

“Terry I’m flattered but I’m just not interested”

“You think I’m ugly don’t you?”

“No- I”

“Don’t lie to me Y/N”

“No I swear, it's just” Your mind raced at a million miles an hour to try and come up with a passable lie. “It's just that I’m actually going out with someone already. We just haven't told anyone, you know how-”

“Who?” He cut you off, his face twisting with anger.

“I don't see how that’s any of your business” The sheer cheek of him was enough to make you angry as well,

“Well, then you’re lying, if it were true you’d say who. You do think I’m ugly”

“It’s,” You paused, blurting out the first name that came into your mind. “Its Draco”. You were already kicking yourself for spluttering his name out. Any Slytherin boy would have done fine, but you just had to say his name.

“Oh, right. Makes sense, you two are inseparable,”

An awkward silence had fallen over you and he barely spoke another word the whole lesson. Slughorn had administered each pairs sleeping potion on a cornish pixie, the pair who managed to keep their pixie asleep for long enough was due to receive a prize the next lesson. You returned to your seat at the back and grabbed your things.

“What’s wrong with you?” Draco asked, pulling the back of your robe

“Huh? what-”

“You look ill, do you need me to walk you to the hospital wing?”

“Walk the long way with me to defence against the dark arts?”

He nodded and the two of you left, splitting off from Daphne and Blaise.

You walked in silence for a bit

“Are you going to tell me what the matter is?” He stopped and faced you for a second

“I found out who sent me the cake” You admitted, continuing to walk

“And?”

“It was Terry Boot.”

Draco started to laugh. “You’re lying”

“I swear but this isn't even the worst part” You were beginning to explain but he wouldn't stop laughing. “Draco, I’m serious! stop laughing there's more!”

He calmed down after a few seconds and you continued.

“I tried rejecting him nicely, but he just didn't take it. So I lied and told him I’m going out with someone”

“Oh? whos the unlucky bugger?”

You slapped his arm. “It's you”

“Me?” He looked genuinely shocked.

“I’m sorry it was the first name that came into my mind. But I just wanted to give you a heads up because he’ll probably tell his friends and the whole school will probably find out! Ugh I’m sorry Draco”

“Sorry for what?”

“Well that everyone’s going to think we're together”

“They could think of worse things, Y/N. Plus I don't care what they have to say about me,”

“you're not angry?”

“Of course not, people thought we were going out anyway.”

“Thank you, Draco, seriously”

“You know, we might as well make it believable, just until he moves on, something tells me Boot isn't going to let this drop.”

“What do you mean believable?”

“Like act like we’re a couple. Hold hands, you know all of that”

“But what about all your admirers”

“I could care less about them, your happiness and safety matters more than the opinions of the mediocre witches and wizards in this school”

You felt your heart swell a bit, you honestly didn't expect Draco to prioritise you like this. “So we should just fake it until he gets a girlfriend?”

“Exactly, just follow my lead”

You two ended up being a minute late to your lesson. He took your hand in his and the two of you walked in after everyone had taken their seats.

“Mr Malfoy, Miss Y/L/N, you are late to my lesson” Snape stated.

The whole class turned and looked at you, noting your hand clearly being held by Draco

“Sorry professor, we accidentally walked the long way from potions” Draco explained, swinging your hands.

“Two points from Slytherin, take your seats.” The two of you sat down.

“You and Draco?” Daphne hissed, knowing how long you had been crushing on him.

“Mind your business, Greengrass” Draco replied, sitting back in his chair putting his arm around the back of your seat.

“I'll explain later,” You promised, not wanting to piss off Snape, by talking in his lesson, any more than you already had.

For the rest of the day, you were ogled at like some caged animal in a zoo. Students from every year glanced and immediately dissolved into whispers with their friends. Word clearly travels fast around Hogwarts. You walked out of your last lesson with Daphne, getting ready to head to the Slytherin common room before dinner.

“You better be getting ready to explain this whole thing to me.” She said, pulling you away from the other students

“Yes, as soon as we get to our dorm-”

“Mind if I steal my girlfriend from you, Daphne?” Draco interrupted, appearing from what seemed to be nowhere.

“Yes I do actually,” She replied, pulling you further from Draco.

“Too bad, I’ll be taking her anyway”

“I swear I’ll tell you daph-” You explained apologetically, pulling your arm from her grasp.

Daphne stomped her foot like a toddler and turned to walk to the Slytherin common room. You, on the other hand, were stood with Draco, getting, even more, stares because the two of you were finally stood together, giving feeding truth into the rumour that was swirling around the school. He put his arm lazily around your shoulders and the two of you began your stroll to a more quiet part of the castle.

“I know you want to tell Daphne everything, but do you think that's wise?” He asked quietly

“Yes, she's my best friend, why wouldn't I?”

“I thought I was, I’m hurt”

“You are, you mug, but she is too”

“You know what a big mouth Daphne has, not to mention you know what she’s like once shes had a bit to drink, she might let it slip.”

You pondered what Draco had said. It was no secret that Daphne Greengrass liked to gossip, but it was also no secret that she couldn't handle her alcohol, spilling some of her families darkest secrets after a few shots. Not to mention had she slipped out that you lied about dating Draco it would be embarrassing for not only you but him.

“Ugh I hate that you’re right”

“When am I not?”

“But what am I supposed to tell her when she asks? She knows when I’m lying”

“Well we did spend basically the entire summer together, we’ll just say it happened then.”

“This is all so stressful! Why couldn't I have thought of another excuse? If I knew this was going to be the outcome, I would have agreed with him and said I found him ugly,” You dropped your head onto his chest. He wrapped both of his arms around you, swaying side to side.

“I know, love, but its too late to go back now”

You and Draco had been in this exact moment before in your friendship, only this time it felt different. You felt like you were more than two best friends consoling one another, it was almost as if you were just two teenagers in love. Only for a short while before reality came crashing down on you, it was all just fake.

The two of you went back to the common room to drop your school bags and robes before making your way to the hall for dinner. Despite it being late, there was still a large proportion of students sat down to eat. You took a deep breath as Draco’s hold on your hand tightened and the two of you walked in. Every single pair of eyes in the room were trained on you, it felt like an eternity before you finally got to your seats on the Slytherin table.

“Finally, you have no excuse not to explain yourself to me now, Y/N” Daphne scoffed.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Greengrass. Were going out, that's it, what more do you want?” Draco retorted.

“Id like to know when, how, where. All of the details, Malfoy”

“Well we started going out in the holidays-” You began to explain before she cut you off.

“Pardon, the summer? As in 6 months ago? You have been hiding your relationship from me, your best friend for 6 whole months?” Daphne’s voice began to rise.

“Daphne-”

“Watch how you talk to my girlfriend, Greengrass, otherwise you'll find you can't speak another word.” Draco practically snarled at her, he looked as though he was about to rip her head off.

“I wanted to tell you, Daph I really did, I just wanted to keep it between Draco and I for a while, just in case it didn't work out, so it wouldn't be awkward.” You explained calmly.

“Hm, I guess that's a valid reason, you’re forgiven for now. But from here on out, I want to know everything. Did you at least find out who that ghastly cake was from?”

“Terry Boot”

She almost choked on her rice. You filled her goblet with some water and slid it to her.

“He confessed to me in potions, I tried to say I wasn't interested but he basically forced me to admit that I had a boyfriend”

“You poor thing,”

She had quickly forgotten and moved onto the next piece of Hogwarts gossip that took her fancy. Draco was engrossed with his own conversations and it hit you, your new reality was Draco Malfoy’s girlfriend, that was until Terry Boot managed to get his own one. It was something you had wanted since the second year, you felt as though you should have been over the moon, one of your most wild fantasies was playing out right in front of you, but you weren't. It wasn't going to last, you were sure he didn't even like you that way, he was just being the kind but overprotective Draco you had got to know over the past few years.

Once you had filled yourselves up with dinner, you and your friends made your way back to the common room, Draco's hand found yours and he held it as you walked down to the dungeons. Once you had got to the common room, Blaise forced a group of fourth years off the sofa in front of the fire and pulled out his deck of exploding snap, which you all played as a group. The warmth of the fire coupled with the comfort of the sofa made you want to curl up and fall asleep, you could feel your eyelids drooping as you tried and failed to suppress a yawn.

“Tired, love?” He asked, tilting his head.

“A little bit, I think I’ll head up to sleep in a bit” You responded, another small yawn passing your lips.

He nodded and simply pulled you into his side, your head falling on his chest and his arm around you resting on your hip

“God, you two are disgusting” Pansy grumbled as she walked past, taking note of you and Draco in your loved-up state.

“We all know you're just jealous you’re not in Y/N’s place” Crabbe laughed.

“Shut up Crabbe,” She snapped, trying to hit him around the back of his head but failing.

Your whole group laughed as she stomped away. You only managed to last another hour before you really were going to fall asleep, though you were reluctant to move from your position, you got up and announced you'd be heading to bed.

“I think I’ll join you.” Daphne yawned, getting up and stretching.

You made a move to leave but were pulled back by Draco.

“Gonna leave without saying goodnight were you?” He smiled

You laughed, “of course not, goodnight, Draco”

He kissed the back of your hand, sending a jolt of electricity from where his lips touched right to your brain, “goodnight, princess”

You smiled and headed up to bed, feeling as though you were floating on cloud 9.

Over the next few days, you had fallen into a routine, he’d wait at the bottom of the stairs from your dormitory for you to come down every morning, as soon as he saw you, he’d chirp a “good morning, love” before walking you to breakfast. He would walk you to and from every lesson that you didn’t have with him, he even went as far as waiting outside the girl's bathroom for you so he could walk with you back to the library. You had to admit it, Draco Malfoy was the best fake boyfriend.

One cold Wednesday afternoon, you were in the middle of a potions lesson, Slughorn was going on and on about the properties of belladonna, he even hinted it would come up in your exam, but all you could focus on was the contractions of your uterus. The first two days of your period were the worst, horrific cramps, bloating, tender boobs and hot flushes. Madam Pomfrey was aware of how debilitating your period was and would always send owls to your teachers informing them you would be absent from lessons, you didn't even care that Snape would find out about your period, all you wanted was to lie in bed. You tried your hardest to ride out the pain for the next 40 minutes of the lesson before you could go to the hospital wing and get something for the pain.

“Just ask Slughorn to leave early,” Daphne whispered.

“This is going to be on the exam, I can't just leave now”

“Y/N, you are literally dying, I’ll give you my notes, just please go to the hospital wing”

“I’ll be fine,”

You took a deep breath and shrugged your robe off you in an attempt to cool down. Draco slide you a note

‘Everything okay?’

‘Yeah, just my period, nothing to worry about :)’

‘Are you sure? I know how bad they get’

‘I’ll be fine, focus on the lesson!’

‘How can I focus when you’re in pain’

‘Oh shut up, I’ll be fine, I’m a big girl’

Draco read your last message and slid the sheet of parchment into his textbook. Another jolt of pain ran across your abdomen, causing you to squeeze your belly in pain. Draco’s arm shot up almost instantaneously.

“Professor, Y/N isn't feeling well, may I escort her to the hospital wing?”

“Of course m’boy”

You glared at Draco before collecting your things. and trying to discreetly leave the classroom without disrupting the lesson further.

“Do feel better Y/L/N” Slughorn called from the front of the room.

“Thank you, professor” you mumbled, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Here give me your bag,” He said, going to grab your bag off your shoulder.

“I’m on my period, Draco, not dying”

He held out his hand anyway and you handed him your bag. He knew you hated being touched too much, it made you feel hotter, so he linked his pinky with yours.

“The corridors are empty, you don't need to hold my hand,” you stated, looking around

“I don't need to but I like to, your hands are soft” You saw him blush slightly as he said it. You simply smiled as the two of you walked into the hospital wing.

“Ah, miss Y/L/N, I’ve been expecting a visit from you” Madam Pomfrey went into her store cupboard and produced a violet potion and measured a dose. “You know the drill, come back tomorrow after breakfast and I’ll give you more, I’ll send an owl to your teachers, what’s your next lesson?”

“We have transfiguration” Draco answered for you while you finished downing your medicine.

“Right, well I’ll tell Professor McGonagall you'll both be absent from the lesson, be sure to catch up with the missing work Mr Malfoy”

You thanked Madam Pomfrey before returning to the Slytherin dormitory. The boys had managed to disable the charm that prevented them from coming up into the girls' dorms, so Draco followed you up.

“Draco, honestly I’m fine.” You signed, dropping onto your bed

“You don’t look fine,” He crossed his arms and looked down at you.

“I just need to get into some comfy clothes and lie down and I’ll be fine, I even have chocolate in my trunk.” You crouched down and opened your trunk and fished out your slab of Honeydukes chocolate. surprised to find that you only had 6 squares left.

“That’s hardly enough, wait here.”

“Dra-”

He turned and went down the stairs, leaving you alone. You changed out of your skirt and into some comfy trousers and were about to unbutton your blouse when Draco returned with a full slab of Honeydukes chocolate and his old quidditch jumper.

“I remember you saying how soft this was, I don't need it anymore, you're free to keep it,” He said sheepishly

“Thank you, Draco, seriously” He smiled at you and just stood there, looking at you. “Erm, I need to change,”

He slowly turned around and you unbuttoned your blouse and unhooked your bra throwing it on your bed before putting the jumper on.

“I’m done,”

He turned around, his eyes immediately landing on your black lace bra on your bed, you followed his gaze and quickly snatched the bra and stuffed it back in your trunk.

“I had you pegged for a cotton bra girl myself,” He smirked

“If you think that's scandalous, you should see what I wear on the bottom” you replied, winking. You got under your covers and began to open the chocolate, Draco sat awkwardly at the foot of your bed.

“Why are you sitting like that?”

“I’ve never been in your dormitory before,”

“It's literally the same as yours, come, sit” You moved a bit to the side and he came and sat next to you, stretching his legs out. At this point it was a reflex, his arms wrapped themselves around you as you buried yourself into him.

“Draco,”

“Hmmm”

“Thank you,”

“You’ve said that already”

“I mean it, honestly,”

“Anything for you, princess”. You two fell into a comfortable silence as you lay on his chest, being lulled to sleep by his chest rising and falling.

You were awoken by a loud squeal, you blinked and slowly opened your eyes.

“You two are just the cutest!” Daphne shouted.

You looked around confused for a moment until you saw what was in Daphne’s hand. She handed you a small bouquet of roses with a note attached that read:

I didn't have the heart to wake you, I’ll bring you dinner if you're not up to coming down, I hope you feel better, love - D x

You smiled as you conjured up a small vase filled with water. It was time to admit it, you were deeply, truly and utterly in love with Draco Malfoy

A Hogsmeade trip had been planned for that weekend, at first, you were planning on skipping it, but after some convincing, you decided you’d go. You decided to replenish your potions store, as well as getting some more quills and ink. Draco treated you to some sweets from Honeydukes, before you and your group headed into the three broomsticks to grab a butterbeer before you returned to the castle. You sat in a booth with Blaise, Daphne, Goyle and Pansy, choosing to squeeze yourself right in the corner. Blaise got up to order the drinks returning a few moments later with six butterbeers in his hands. The six of you fell into a discussion about the quidditch tournament, the boys getting heated over Ravenclaw’s win over Slytherin in their last match. After a while Daphne excused herself to go to the bathroom, only to run back a few moments later.

“You will not guess who I just saw snogging Hannah Abbott in the women’s toilet” Daphne yelled, sitting back in her seat at the end of the table.

You all looked at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Terry fucking Boot!”

The whole group looked at you and Draco. At that moment you felt a million different emotions, recently it had felt like you weren't faking anymore, you had tricked yourself into thinking that it was all real, forgetting about your deal with Draco. But you knew that this revelation meant it was all over, you and Draco would fake an amicable break-up and remain to be best friends and the thought of that killed you.

“Well, at least now he won't get hexed for looking at my girlfriend” Draco joked.

You smiled and took a sip of your butterbeer. Once you had all finished your drinks, you returned to the castle and settled in your spot in the common room. You were sat with Draco but all you could think about was how this little bubble you were in was going to burst soon. You practically zoned out, your eyes losing focus as you stared at the fire.

“Are you quite alright? You look as though you’ve been stunned” Daphne asked, looking confused.

“Mmm I don’t feel too good, I don't think being out in the cold was a good idea” you mumbled, blinking slowly.

Daphne came and felt your forehead.

“You do feel a bit warm, why don’t you go lie down for a while”

You agreed and went up to lie in your bed for a while. You ended up skipping dinner too, you played up your symptoms to Daphne and she left you alone out of fear that she’d catch whatever you had. You didn’t end up getting out of bed until the next morning, barely having the energy to brush your teeth before you trudged to the great hall for breakfast in your pyjamas. Draco saw you come in and his eyes lit up, he was worried after Daphne told him you were sick. As soon as you sat down he began to pile food into your plate.

“Whoa calm down, I’ll barely be able to eat half of that” You pushed his hand back to the bowl of baked beans prompting him to drop the spoon back into the bowl.

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday, you must be starving, love”

You shook your head reaching for a cereal bowl instead. He looked at you concern filling his face. He kept glancing over at you while you ate, making note of your unusual silence. Once he had noticed you stopped eating your cereal squeezed your hand under the table, you pulled your hand away and acted as though you were scratching an itch on the side of your neck.

“Y/N why don’t we take a visit to madam Pomfrey, just to make sure you’re okay”

“I’m fine Draco, it’s probably just a cold”

“Draco’s right, you should make sure it’s nothing contagious or something” Daphne agreed

“Fine, let’s go then” You dusted your pyjamas off and got up, defeated.

You followed Draco out of the great hall. He began walking the opposite direction to the hospital wing and pulled you into a deserted part of the corridor.

“Are you okay?” He asked immediately, his tall frame towering over you.

“I’m just tired Draco, that’s all”

“You can’t lie to me, I’m your best friend”

“I’m not lying, I’m just tired, I haven’t been sleeping well the past few days”

“Has someone said something? Threatened you? I swear if I get my hands on them”

“No ones done anything. You don’t need to keep the overprotective boyfriend act up anymore, we’re alone and Terry has a girlfriend now”

“Act?” His face had fallen and he turned to look away

“Draco?”

“You really thought it was all an act?”

“Was it not? You said it yourself, we were faking it until he got a girlfriend so that he wouldn’t try and make a move on me”

“How can you be one of the smartest witches in our house but be so dense at the same time. “

“Excuse me,”

“It wasn't an act for me”

Your heart stopped.

“What?” you honestly couldn’t believe what you were hearing

“It wasn't an act for me. I didn't do all that just because I wanted Boot to back off, I did it cause I’ve fancied you for a while” Draco began pacing, as he explained himself

“but-”

“You said you would have gone out with the sender of that cake if it wasn't anonymously sent. I don't know why, but it didn’t sit right with me. I didn't like the fact that you were willing to go out with someone that wasn't me.”

“So you waited for me to find out who did send it, so you could propose this crazy idea?”

“I didn’t expect you to find out, hell I didn't even know I was going to say it, but once you agreed to go along with it, I felt like maybe you’d see that us being more than just best friends wasn't that bad, and maybe you'd be willing to give me a chance.”

“Can I let you in on a little secret?”

He stopped and looked down at you and nodded,

“I've fancied you since second year”

He smiled and grabbed both your hands

“And since we’ve been fake going out, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you now,”

“Say that again”

“I’m in love with you Draco,”

“Say it again,” he said, placing his hands on your cheeks and staring into your eyes with adoration.

You laughed “I love you”

“I love you so much more, princess. Way more than I can even explain”

You beamed up at him, you felt like you could honestly explode at this point. all those years of crushing on him and wishing you could tell him how you felt, and here you were.

“I'm going to kiss you” He whispered

“I think it's about time you did”

He moved slowly before giving you a sweet but passionate kiss. His lips were softer than you thought they'd be.

“At least now we don't need to worry about telling our friends,” You joked, resting your forehead against his.

He laughed and kissed you again. Something you know you would never get tired of. As cliche as it seemed, you did it, your best friend was now your boyfriend. It was just you and Draco, safe in your perfect bubble.

342 notes · View notes

meltwonu · 4 years

Text

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 | [CHAPTER 12]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, sex toys, overstimulation, tiniest mentions of daddy!kink, a lil bit of a filler chapter!, this is the most btsvt chapter that it’ll ever get so i’m sorry if you dont like that!! 😭😭, a bit of a lighthearted chapter too tbh to ease everyone back into cherry bomb! 💕 I know its been like two fuckin weeks since the last update which is honestly insane to me! I almost couldnt remember where we even left off lmao kdjfhds 😩💕💕 Thank you for being so patient with me and waiting it out while we had two weeks of Monster Mash! Starting Monday, I’m gonna be going back to my normal posting schedule! 💕 have a great rest of the weekend, yall! 🍒

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - ?

“Wait, seriously? You want to work here? But--but I thought you were from out of town?”

Jun’s eyes light up with excitement; fingertips crushing the resume you passed to him moments prior. “Um, well, there was a change of plans… and I’d really like to work somewhere where I have a friend! If you guys are still hiring, that is...” You reply back meekly.

It’d taken you all morning to write up a resume, blushing a little when you realize most of your income had been from camming. It’d also made you pause for a moment when you realized that it meant Jun would also know your real name too; as well as everyone who came through the diner and all of your coworkers.

“Yeah, of course! I, um, just give me a second to pass this to my manager, okay? I’ll be sure to put in a good word!” Jun shoots you a wink before he turns to leave.

You take the opportunity to sit down at a nearby booth, fishing for your phone to text Seungcheol.

‘I think I might be getting the job!!’

cheollie ✨: oh? Not that I doubted you, but is it confirmed already?

‘Mm… Jun is trying to put in a word for me! But I’m confident!’

cheollie ✨: thats my baby ;)

You hear someone call your name hesitantly, only to find Jun standing a few feet away looking at you sheepishly. “Um, sorry, your name’s on the resume so I figured…”

“Oh! Yeah, it’s fine!” You awkwardly giggle. “I figured writing ‘Cherry’ as my name wouldn’t be too smart when you need to cross-reference my ID if I get the job.” Jun laughs as he takes the seat across from you in the booth, papers in hand.

“Well, I convinced my manager to let me interview you. Told him that if we’d be workin’ together that I’d want to scope you out for myself! He bought it, can you believe it!?” Grinning, he sets your crumpled resume down next to a small stack of papers. “I don’t doubt you’d pull your weight around here but I do have to ask… Why here of all places? I thought your, uh, other job was enough? Or I guess I assumed...” You bite your lip, flip-flopping on whether or not you wanted to let him know exactly what happened that led to your sudden decision.

“Um… There were just some big life changes I had to make on the fly and I’ll be living around here now! I’m trying out some new things… I also figured if I worked with you, then you’d know my schedule the best too! And you seem like a really nice and cool guy.”

Jun nods, smiling back at you.

“You got that right!”

“You’re seriously going to start working there?” Jeongguk raises a brow, cables in hand as he sets up the extra PC in his streaming room. “And the guy working there knows you? That doesn’t bother you?”

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, “Yeah and he knows me now too. And knows I’d kick his ass if he tried anything.” You pout from your place in the expensive gaming chair; eyes focused on Jeongguk who shimmies under the desk to start plugging in the cables.

“Well, yeah he does know me, but he’s also one of my regulars and knows the schedules I’ll need, so I think we can trust him!” They both nod and Seungcheol is quick to cross the small room until he’s right behind you.

“He seems like a nice guy though, I don’t think we have to worry.”

Jeongguk slides out from underneath the desk, dusting off his pants as he stands. “And if he does end up being a weirdo, there’s always a place for you at the roller rink!”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, hands gripping onto the backrest of the chair.

“No.”

“Hey guys, welcome back to Golden Closet Gaming! I’m JK, your regular host! Today, we have a suuuper special guest! Why don’t you introduce yourself, pretty lady~”

You take a deep breath as you lean in close to the mic; somewhat nervous and a little out of your usual element. “Hi everyone~ I’m Cherry! Some of you may know me from, um, the other side of the streaming-sphere but I’m joining my friend today in hopes of boosting our channels together and having a ‘lil bit of fun!!”

Seungcheol sits at the side as he watches the two of you; a small smile painted on his lips at the way the two of you seem to fall into your characters easily despite the somewhat different platforms and influx of different viewers.

The sound of donations and comments pour in a lot quicker than Jeongguk, himself, is used to; eyes wide and eyebrows raised as he pauses to watch them flood the screen.

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

xcaliburDK has donated $100

sleepy_wonu: never thought i’d be donating here but here we are

xcaliburDK: i was always a silent watcher but u kno i had to donate for my favorite girl!

seokGENIE: i feel like i’m entitled to something for taking your shift so i wont be donating, sorry pretty girl

j__min: can’t believe this kid got a collab with you before i did :(

j__min has donated $200

dtsug__a: i dont normally watch streams either but im curious

Jeongguk laughs, still in disbelief as the donations continue to pour in from a combination of your viewers and his. He always made a decent amount from his viewers but he couldn’t deny the pull you had from your viewers as well. “Wow, um okay, my donations are adding up a lot quicker than they usually do. That’s… Hey, whaddya say to streaming with me regularly?” He jokes.

A shy laugh bubbles up your throat; ears and cheeks burning hot at the idea. You had never collabed with any other streamer before and despite your initial hesitance and unsureness, you too, were shocked to find how well the two of you were doing without your usual content.

“Erm, I’m not very good at gaming though… I don’t think your viewers would like it very much...”

seokGENIE: thats ok jk sucks at gaming too, it wouldnt be too different

j__min: lmao fkjdhf

dtsug__a: does he get roasted often on this channel? If so i’ll be tuning in more often

dtsug__a has donated $100

dtsug__a: for your troubles, pretty gal

“On second thought, let’s let this be a special occasion, huh? Maybe collabs for the holiday, Cherry?” Jeongguk grumbles and Seungcheol has to bite his lip to keep in his laughs from his side of the small room. You start to feel more and more comfortable at the lighthearted atmosphere; tucking a stray hair behind your ear before you lean in towards the mic again.

“Ah! Speaking of, don’t forget to tune into my camshow tomorrow~! JK and I will be gaming on there as well but… with some added fun to match my channel~! 21 and over only~” You blink at the computer screen, still a little unused to the idea that you weren’t technically being filmed. Although, it was a nice change for once; not needing to be all done up for a show and simply just talking to your viewers and reading comments.

sleepy_wonu: is dom daddy gonna be on the show too?

“Dom daddy? Oh you mean Se---”

“Yes! Kind of!” You cut off, laughing nervously. Nobody knew Seungcheol’s name except for Jun and you were trying to keep as much of him private as possible, until he was ready. “In a sense, he’ll be there! You guys will just have to tune in to find out!”

Jeongguk laughs into his own mic, scooting in closer to his desk as he loads up the game.

“I think that’s enough chatting for now, huh? Let’s get started! Tonight we’ll be playing Phasmophobia! We’ll be playing something more lighthearted on Cherry’s channel, as she requested. So tonight we’ll be playing something I picked out. You ready, baby?”

Seungcheol narrows his eyes, quietly taking a sip of his water.

“Ready when you are!”

“I gotta say, sweetheart, for someone who doesn’t play video games too often, you’re not too bad.” Seungcheol comments, nodding his head in amazement as the three of you exit Jeongguk’s PC room. He’d had a hard time keeping in his laughs as he watched from the side and he had to admit, you were even cuter when you were outside of your usual element.

“I have to agree with hyung, but maybe it was also the adrenaline and screaming that kept you goin’.”

The two males share a laugh as you pout and plop down onto Jeongguk’s living room sofa. “Hey, how were the numbers for tonight, by the way?” You ask quietly.

“Honestly? I think we made almost triple of what my channel usually sees. I know I don’t really make a ton off of my streams since I don’t really do anything, like, crazy but shit… Even I’m shocked at how much we made.”

Seungcheol’s lip ease into a smirk; Jeongguk really had no idea how much the two of you had made off of a couple videos alone.

“We still have one more stream to do and then we can just pool up the money and split it down the middle!”

Jeongguk nods, stretching as he sits himself down onto the other end of the sofa. “I’ll bring my spare PC stuff so we can set up a little early tomorrow, if that’s cool with you two? Maybe have some food before we get started too ‘cause god knows I’m gonna be starving.” You look to Seungcheol who nods and checks his phone for the time.

“Yeah, we need to set up the cameras and lighting a little differently too so we’ll probably start earlier. Just text me before you drive over so we know when to expect you.”

You yawn next to Jeongguk; adrenaline having worn off as the tiredness finally sets in. “It’s so weird, usually I’m only just starting my stream right around this time but I’m so exhausted now...” Seungcheol’s eyes from cute crescents as he smiles down at you, stepping closer as he goes in to smooth down your hair.

“You really were screaming a lot, to be fair. How about we head home and you can sleep in the car?”

“Okay~”

Seungcheol lets you sleep in on Saturday morning, watching as your chest rises and falls with soft breaths.

He takes a moment to think over the last few weeks of his life and he can’t help the disbelieving expression that crosses his features when he realizes just how much had changed over the course of just weeks.

When the two of you had met, he wasn’t expecting much. He expected the two of you to hang out for a few days before you went home and forgot he even existed outside of your camshows and the comments section. But now that so much had happened between the two of you, Seungcheol felt a deeper connection to you and felt the need to protect you even moreso than ever.

He sees you shift slightly, sleepy eyes blinking open as you peer up at him. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Mm… g’morning ‘cheol…”

You grimace sleepily at how hoarse your voice sounds, “Ew, I sound so… gross.”

Seungcheol moves to get out of bed, leaning in to kiss your forehead before he shuffles towards the bathroom. “I’m going to wash up but you can stay in bed if you like. I’ll make you some tea for your throat, okay? We have a long day ahead of us and I don’t think you wanna sound like that later tonight.”

Nodding sleepily, you lay back down as you yawn and let the sleep take over once again.

“Are you really sure ‘bout this?” Jeongguk takes a bite of his pizza as he watches Seungcheol pull the desk closer to the bed.

“What do you mean?” You ask; readjusting the light that was closest to the younger male. “Like, I dunno, I’ve never been on a cam show like this so… I mean do I have to do anything different?” You laugh lightly as you go in to pat Jeongguk on the shoulder.

“No, just be you. And we went over it already earlier, the only thing that’s different is going to be me! No weird tricks or anything, I promise.”

Seungcheol places another monitor on the tabletop, grunting as he goes. “Yeah, and in all honesty, I would hate to have to watch you get off, ‘Guk.”

“Oh shut up, hyung. You say that like I don’t know what you’re packin’ under those sweats. I think it’d only be fair! Just two bros getting to know each other.” Seungcheol pretends to gag just as you double over in laughter. “No, absolutely not, ‘Guk. And also, nobody told you to watch those videos!”

Jeongguk pauses, lips pressing into a firm line. “You right, you right…”

You leave to get changed just as Jeongguk starts to help Seungcheol set up the last few bits of equipment. He leans in close to the older male, eyes glancing around the space to make sure you were completely out of earshot. “Hey, hyung, honest question.”

“Sure.”

“Are you really okay with all this?” Confusion crosses Seungcheol’s features as he raises an eyebrow at the younger male. “What’s ‘this’ exactly, ‘Guk?”

“Y’know, her living here and you camming all of a sudden, among everything else really… And the question if you’re in love with her which, by the way, we still all know that you are.”

A blush coats Seungcheol’s skin, fingertips almost losing grip of the camera he was about to mount to the desktop. “Listen, yes, okay, I do… like her a lot. But she’s going through a lot right now too and I don’t want to freak her out either. There’s a lot of life changes we’re going through so I’m just going to ...wait.”

“You’re a good man, hyung.”

“Hi everyone!”

You wave to the camera, winking and blowing a kiss to the camera propped up between the two monitors on the table. “I know, this setup is a little wild and not my normal but this is part two of my collaboration with Golden Closet Gaming! Do you want to introduce yourself to those who missed our other stream?” You turn to Jeongguk who nods; this time a little nervous as he stares directly into the camera.

He’d said he was okay with being filmed since he wasn’t actually part of any sexual acts, but he still found himself a little camerashy now that the two of you were live.

Seungcheol sat directly behind the monitors and cameras; his phone open to your cam show to watch from a different angle.

“Ah, hello! I’m JK of Golden Closet Gaming! I’m a friend of Cherry’s and no we won’t be fuckin’.” Jeongguk ends with an innocent smile that has you holding back your laughter.

therealchan99: i dont think dom.cheol would like that very much anyway

universe_WZ has donated $100

universe_WZ: unless he’s into watching

dom.cheol: no

alphagyu97: oh shit hes back

angelhan: huh, so hes not there?

“Oh, he is! He’s behind the camera~” You gesture beyond the camera to where Seungcheol sits and he leans over to quickly wave upside down in front of the camera to prove his existence.

j__min: ah, of course~ we know your daddy would never let you play with anyone else~

j__min: he likes you too much ;)

emerald.tae: oh? also hi new watcher!!!

emerald.tae: ur videos were great!!

emerald.tae has donated $200

therealchan99: im gonna need to start fighting ppl for ur attention i swear

gentleman_josh95: implying u had it

chwenon: yooooooo lmao

“You guuuuys, be nice! Just for that, I’m gonna be sending you a special private pic, okay ‘therealchan99’? You guys pick on him too much!” You pout.

therealchan99: hahaahhAHhhahaHAAHAA FUCKIN LOSERS SUCK ON THAT

tangerine_kwan: bruh

chwenon: damn guess we should can it

You respond to a few more comments as Jeongguk sits by and watches the way you interact with your viewers. He also takes note that you had a donation minimum before you started actually doing anything on your channel and that you’d already hit it pretty quickly.

“Okay! I think we should start now, huh? Oh, I should explain what’s going on!” You giggle cutely, settling into your space on the bed. “So JK and I will be playing this stilt man game! We have to get our character to the finish line without falling or the level restarts! JK has to get to level 30 and I have to get to level 20 and whoever reaches their goal first, wins!”

“I have a higher level to reach ‘cause our skillsets are different and we all know I’d smoke her if we both had to reach the same level.” Jeongguk grins.

seokGENIE: sure

seokGENIE has donated $69

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

hoshi_tiger_xx has donated $100

“And the reason why ‘dom.cheol’ is behind the camera is because...” You pause, eyes twinkling with playfulness as you stare directly into the lens. “In order to get me to do my best, he’ll be controlling a special toy I’m wearing~ Hehe, if my character falls, he’ll raise the vibration setting each time as punishment and leave it on until I cum…”

“Which we are assuming will be a lot. Unfortunately, no medic on standby.” Jeongguk jokes. Seungcheol rolls his eyes as he laughs from behind the camera.

“We have a safeword, don’t we, sweetheart?” You nod in response, “Mmhmm!”

“Let’s get it!”

It takes all of four stages before your character falls for the first time.

Seungcheol turns the vibrating panties on and you immediately jolt as you try to keep your character upright on screen. “Oh, f-fuck!”

kitty_junjun: uh ohhhh it begins

artist8hao: i don’t think she’s gonna last.. babygirl is so sensitive, she’ll probably cum soon

xcaliburDK: i’m giving it until level 6 before she cums

emerald.tae: oh are we placing bets

“Noooo~ Don’t place bets on me, I’m weak!” You whine; already squirming as the vibrations attack your clit. Seungcheol grins from in front of you as Jeongguk laughs from your side, already on level 7 on his own screen.

You had to admit, it was a little weird for someone else to be in the room with you while Seungcheol basically used a toy on you, but the younger male seemed to not care about it at all. Although, he had already seen most of you and Seungcheol at this point.

Your fingertips are shaky on the keyboard and computer mouse; already fearing the way Seungcheol’s eyes almost become darker the longer you struggle.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Is the game too hard?”

“A-ah, n--no, it’s not that b-bad…” Squirming, you grind down a little harder onto the bed just as your character falls on screen and Seungcheol raises the setting to the second highest in the blink of an eye. “Ngh, fuh---fuck!”

“Uh oh~ Should I slow down to let you catch up?” Jeongguk teases.

“N-no, I can beat y-you!”

The donations and comments pour in as you struggle to keep your calm and get your character to the finish line; letting out a sigh of relief as you finally enter the fifth level. You let out a choked sob as you already feel your panties starting to stick to you like a second skin from how wet you were getting and Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle.

“You know, you’re technically allowed to cum whenever you want. It’ll just… slow you down, is all.” Grinning, he watches as you look beyond the camera towards him as you pout.

“But I--I wanna win!” You cry; palms clammy as you try to rush through the fifth stage, only for your character to fall almost immediately. “Nooo~”

Seungcheol clicks the vibrator to its highest setting and your body goes rigid as the vibrations wreck your body. You start to grind against the toy as you chase your orgasm and forget about the game almost completely. In a perfect world, Seungcheol would have his cock snug between your walls, but instead you clench around emptiness as you crave his cock.

artist8hao: ah shes already cumming lol

seokGENIE: on level 5? Fuck

universe_WZ: her cute lil cunt cant take it, poor babygirl

seokGENIE has donated $50

emerald.tae has donated $75

alphagyu97: cum baby, u kno u wanna

alphagyu97 has donated $75

A small choked whine is all you can manage before you do cum; eyes clamped shut and fingers wrapped tight around the computer mouse as the waves of pleasure crash down onto your body. Donations and comments flood the side of the screen from a combination of your viewers and Jeongguk’s as they watch your face contort in pleasure.

“Ah, sweetheart, you’re really falling behind~ JK is going through the stages so quickly while you’re sitting there cumming~” Seungcheol teases. He licks his lips, simultaneously wishing you were sitting on his cock while you played your game.

That’d have to be for another time, he thinks.

It takes a second for Seungcheol to turn the toy off and your body immediately slumps forward as you catch your breath. “Ngh, d-damn it…” You grimace when you re-adjust yourself and find your panties soaking wet.

“I’m already on level 17, babe. You gotta catch up!”

You can only groan in response, flexing your clammy fingers before you try to focus on your own screen again.

kitty_junjun: oho looks like our princess is focused now

tangerine_kwan: u got this baby

j__min: show ‘em who’s boss, babygirl

You tune out the sounds of the comments and donations as you manage to get yourself to level eight without falling, but level nine proves to be just a little too hard as your character falls and Seungcheol turns the vibrator back on to its lowest setting again.

“Be careful, baby. Wouldn’t want to fall behind again would you?”

Seungcheol feels his cock throbbing in his sweats as he watches you bite your lip. And for the first time all night, he wishes that Jeongguk would just win and go home so that he could have his own private time with you.

“I’m on level 22 already. D’you think she can even catch up?” Jeongguk teases. He spares you a side glance, taking in your form slumped closer to the table as you try to fight the vibrations.

Your body was already extremely sensitive from your first orgasm and you quickly losing your confidence as you struggled to keep your character upright. If you came even just one more time, there was no way that you’d be able to beat Jeongguk with how quickly he was going through the stages.

therealchan99: she’s cumming just as quickly as JK is getting thru the stages hfdsf

gentleman_josh95: shes so cute when she cums tho

angelhan has donated $50

angelhan: thats the real prize angel

“T-thank you…” You whimper out, fingertips twitching against the keyboard and mouse as you focus your attention to the game to the best of your ability.

You manage to get to level ten with no more issues just as Jeongguk gets to level 25 and you let out an exasperated sigh as your character falls over again. “Uh oh~ I think I’m gonna win!” Jeongguk cheers; giddiness washing over him as he works to get to the end.

“Nooo~ That’s n-not, ah, fair!” Whining, you grip the mouse tighter as Seungcheol raises the setting on the toy again, watching as you rub your thighs together at the feeling.

hoshi_tiger_xx: sadly nothings fair in the gaming world babe

hoshi_tiger_xx has donated $50

dtsug__a has donated $50

dtsug__a: cute for thinkin so tho

“I don’t th--think I can, hah, c-catch up...” You moan. Your character on screen falls over one more time and all you hear is Seungcheol’s small ‘tsk’ under his breath as he sets the vibrator to the highest setting and leaves it there.

It doesn’t take long before the vibrations prove to be too much for you and you let go of the keyboard and computer mouse as your hands ball up into fists on top of the table.

The pleasure washes over you in sharp pin pricks; small whines and whimpers falling from your lips as your eyes completely clamp shut.

Jeongguk lets out a surprised noise at the way the donations and comments almost make the screen lag and for the first time, his character on screen falls over at his split second loss of focus.

“Ah, fuh--fuck!” You start to squirm once the pleasure starts to bleed into overstimulation and Seungcheol is quick to respond, “You’re gonna cum one more time as punishment for giving up, sweetheart.”

alphagyu97: ooo she's in troubleeee

gentleman_josh95: ahhh daddy still has to punish you after all

seokGENIE: damn is this what this channels abt? this is hot

artist8hao: babygirl always misbehaves

chwenon: she seems to like it too much 😏

dtsug__a: hooooo shit, thats hot

“It’s n-not my f-fault, hah, JK is j-just good at g-gaming...” You mumble.

Jeongguk manages to get to level 30 within the time you sit and grind against the toy; small noises of excitement falling from his lips as he cheers for himself!

“Aww, poor baby. Maybe you’ll focus a bit better next time, hmm?”

You nod frantically as a small tear slips down your cheek and your lips part in a breathy moan. “God, I--I’m c--cumming!”

Your body locks up, ears ringing as you cum one more time. Seungcheol wishes he could work you through it; hands massaging your skin as you take your pleasure or thrusting his cock into you as he chased his high with you.

Instead he watches from across you as your body twitches as your face contorts in unadulterated bliss, licking his lips the entire time with images of what could’ve been dancing behind his eyelids.

Jeongguk watches as the donations far surpass what the two of you made on his channel; brows disappearing into his poofy head of hair. “Wow, uh, y’all seem to really like it when she gets punished, huh?” He mutters under his breath.

“Don’t you?” Seungcheol teases.

“Truuuuue.”

A garbled moan has both of their attention on you as you try to shy away from the toy still vibrating against your overly sensitive clit. “Ah, ‘m too sen--sensitive now...” You cry.

Seungcheol turns the toy off completely as your chest heaves in deep breaths; pouting at the fact he wasn’t able to enter the camera frame to take care of you.

Jeongguk grimaces slightly at the way your body sways in tiredness next to him, unsure of what to do next now that he’d won.

“Haha, um, medic?”

#cherrybomb!cheol #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt fic #seventeen fic #scoups #seungcheol

381 notes · View notes

becomewings · 4 years

Photo

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life <I’M FINE>

BTS Universe Story Highlights, pt. 4 / 4

« pt. 3 | start at the beginning

Introduction

The final sections for TaeHyung’s arc and the Epilogue are 4.3k and 4.4k, respectively. As with earlier parts of the series, I have included “tl;dr commentary” at the bottom of the post after a section of additional thoughts (specifically devoted to an interesting MV location parallel!). This commentary summarizes the parenthetical asides I made throughout the summaries and may be of interest as standalone reading to those who have already played the game yet would like to review its connections to the BU texts and MVs.

Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD

This guide contains major spoilers and includes references to other BU media

Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission

Heart’s Distance

TaeHyung’s story opens with a short cutscene. In his apartment (with the calendar on the wall open to May), TaeHyung smiles at a photo of his father holding him as a baby. (The image looks similar to the photograph he holds at 1’48” in the HYYH On Stage: Prologue short film.) Remembering his father’s drinking and violence, he crumples the photo with a sigh. SeokJin then narrates over a series of shots explaining the latest developments in the loops. By this 15 May Year 22, he has saved NamJoon, ensured that JungKook and YoonGi saved each other, prevented HoSeok’s accident in the hospital, and borrowed everyone’s help to free JiMin. Everyone is gathered outside NamJoon’s container that night, smiling and giddy from saving JiMin. “How long has it been since we’ve all laughed together?” SeokJin asks. (This is a reference to the recurring phrase “we can laugh when we’re together” present throughout the Notes and occasionally this game.) He wants to relax and enjoy the moment too but knows this isn’t over yet. TaeHyung is laughing radiantly next to JiMin. “What drives this happy and innocent TaeHyung to commit such an unspeakable act?” he wonders.

SeokJin’s reflections on the coming days in previous loops present the crux of his challenge and this story: on 19 May, TaeHyung is arrested for vandalism while painting graffiti on the streets. (The bus stop depicted in the shot is the same as the one in Highlight Reel.) One thing SeokJin has learned through the loops is that TaeHyung and his sister live under the constant threat of domestic violence. On 20 May, TaeHyung goes home after spending the night at the police station. The situation gets especially bad for his older sister, and TaeHyung makes a choice that he can’t take back. (In the shot in the game, TaeHyung approaches his father from behind and the sound of glass occurs on a cut to black. We know from the I Need U MV and Save Me webtoon that he fatally stabs his father.) SeokJin’s inner thoughts relate that he has tried to stop this event by preventing TaeHyung from going home this day or even involving NamJoon—but all of his attempts have ended in failure.

While SeokJin is mulling over this challenge during their gathering on the night of 15 May, HoSeok approaches and asks what he’s thinking about by himself. “Oh, nothing much,” SeokJin dismisses. HoSeok remarks that it’s nice to be there with everyone. “It makes me think of the old days…” While HoSeok happily chats, SeokJin’s attention stays on TaeHyung as he approaches NamJoon. The player is given the choice to “get closer to eavesdrop” or “listen to what HoSeok has to say.” In the first path, SeokJin excuses himself to make a phone call and only pretends to pick up the phone as he nears TaeHyung and NamJoon. In the second path, HoSeok jokes about eating too many snacks in high school thanks to SeokJin. SeokJin is a little distracted, but HoSeok notices that TaeHyung has snacks. “Huh? What’s that? I want some too!” SeokJin uses this opportunity to follow HoSeok and join their two friends. The paths converge with SeokJin overhearing TaeHyung and NamJoon’s conversation. TaeHyung says he doesn’t want to go home and asks if he can spend the night at the container. SeokJin remembers that TaeHyung often mentioned not wanting to go home in high school. Back then, they thought it was because he enjoyed being with the group, but now SeokJin knows that he was probably avoiding his father. He wonders why TaeHyung insists on going home on the 20th since he hates it there so much. Maybe learning the reason will be the key to stopping—and saving—TaeHyung. “Do whatever you want. You can sleep over,” NamJoon replies. TaeHyung brightens visibly at this answer. “Do you want to stay up doing something? We can play a card game, or…” HoSeok chimes in too that it sounds like a fun idea, but NamJoon says he has work tomorrow and can’t stay up late. “Let’s play until I have to go to bed.” TaeHyung’s phone vibrates. His face is already grim when he peers at it. “Actually, I think I have to go home.” Surprised, NamJoon asks why, but TaeHyung leaves without answering.

SeokJin leaves the gathering and follows TaeHyung, shadowing him carefully to avoid detection. He wonders what was in the text that changed TaeHyung’s mind and notices that they’re heading in the opposite direction of his home. After purchasing snacks at a nearby store, TaeHyung stands at a bus stop. SeokJin wonders if he’s waiting for someone since he lets several buses pass by. Eventually, a disembarking figure approaches TaeHyung. SeokJin recognizes her as Kim Eunhye, TaeHyung’s older sister. She asks why he is waiting for her since he said he’d be home late. “I was about to head in, so I thought I’d wait for you,” TaeHyung replies. “You should’ve gone ahead. Dad probably hasn’t had dinner yet…” she trails off. TaeHyung says he ordered delivery to the house for their dad. “Did you eat yet? Here.” He hands her a hot dog. SeokJin follows at a distance when they begin walking home. “Do you think dad will be drinking?” Eunhye wonders. “Is that even a question?” TaeHyung returns. They go back and forth about how he has been drinking less these days, goes to work every day, and doesn’t get as angry. “I hope things stay like this,” Eunhye finishes. “...It won’t last,” says TaeHyung. From his sigh, SeokJin senses how little TaeHyung trusts his father. He is surprised to hear that his father goes to work every day. In previous loops, he wondered if the cause for TaeHyung’s accident was an external force and went to observe his father’s workplace, but the man was not at the construction site and apparently hadn’t shown up for several days.

“I better check it out,” SeokJin decides. He calls Uncle JunHo, his father’s assistant, to ask for a favor. The two meet later in SeokJin’s bedroom. “You wanted to go on-site for practical training, right? This is the form you need,” says JunHo. He dismisses SeokJin’s thanks. “The Assemblyman seemed to be interested, too. He said he’ll be keeping an eye on things.” “Father said that?” SeokJin checks. “Make sure to use this opportunity to take a thorough look around. It’ll all be helpful to you later,” JunHo advises. (It’s helpful to know that Kim ChangJun is involved in some shady business with a construction company—this is revealed in The Notes 2.)

On 17 May, SeokJin visits the construction site. The foreman tells him that they’re busy and won’t have time to pay any special attention to him. SeokJin is glad for the lack of watchful eyes because it gives him the opportunity to observe TaeHyung’s father, Kim SungHoon. He is working silently, and SeokJin can’t see anything wrong on the surface. “Why does he get so violent at home?” he wonders. The foreman has apparently been watching too and yells at him. “Oi, you! Why aren’t you working?” Kim SungHoon points out that there isn’t any scaffolding. The foreman orders him to use a ladder instead. “You can’t get any work done being all careful.” Kim SungHoon tries to protest, but the foreman won’t hear it. “Are you going to pay for it if the schedule gets delayed, Mr. Kim? Hurry it up!” A look appears on Kim SungHoon’s face as though he’s been wronged, but he uses the ladder to begin working. SeokJin’s concern must be visible, for the foreman makes conversation with him. “Ahem. Don’t get the wrong idea. You might not be well aware of it yet, but it’s hard to always follow the rules on site. We can’t stay on schedule if we’re not flexible.” “I see…” murmurs SeokJin.

Another laborer shouts, drawing their attention: Kim SungHoon has fallen from the ladder and lies groaning on the ground. The foreman curses and rushes over, demanding how he could be so careless and shifting the blame to him for not paying attention. With a hurt back, Kim SungHoon cannot continue working. Trying to downplay the accident, the foreman gives him a few bills and advises him to stop by the hospital. TaeHyung’s father seems to have something to say, but he withers under the foreman’s stare and accepts the money in resignation. The foreman then assures SeokJin that this happens occasionally on a rough worksite and hands him money too. “You’ve worked hard, so here’s a little something for you to get a nice snack. Forget about everything that happened today. You know what I mean, right?” His brazen, selfish attitude angers SeokJin, but he smiles and leaves to follow Kim SungHoon. He is shocked to witness TaeHyung’s father purchase alcohol at a convenience store rather than go to a hospital. Worried about what will happen if he drinks while injured, SeokJin tries to call TaeHyung, but he doesn’t pick up. The episode ends with a small scene of TaeHyung finishing graffiti on a wall. He doesn’t know why he painted what he did, but the “dumb, ugly-looking graffiti” represents how he feels. He rubs the still-wet paint, yet it doesn’t go away. Picking a new color, TaeHyung sprays over the existing layers like he’s pouring and emptying out all of himself.

On 18 May, TaeHyung deals with his third rude customer of the day at the convenience store. The man demands why he must pay for a bag, even though the law has changed so they can no longer be given freely. TaeHyung either relents and gives him the bag without charge or stands firm. In the first path, he gives in, knowing that he probably won’t restrain his anger if they argue further and that he’ll have to cover the cost with his own paycheck. In the second path, the customer flings the money at him before leaving. TaeHyung clenches his fists and holds in his anger. The paths rejoin with him reflecting that this isn’t a good day. He greets the next customer and realizes that it’s SeokJin. “How come you’ve been stopping by so often these days?” TaeHyung asks while ringing up his bottled coffee. “Huh? Just. I have some things to take care of around here,” SeokJin answers. TaeHyung doesn’t know whether or not to believe him. SeokJin keeps asking how he’s doing, and it makes him a little uncomfortable. Today, SeokJin asks more meaningless questions as always, until: “How’s your father?” TaeHyung can’t stop himself from responding sharply. “Why do you ask about him?” Taken aback, SeokJin stammers, “N-No reason, really. I was just wondering if he was well… Uh… Never mind.”

A rich-looking father and son enter the store, interrupting the awkward silence. The way the father looks after his son and buys him what he wants to eat plunges TaeHyung into memories—he once felt the same as the boy about his own father. He remembers asking his dad who the baby is in the photograph we see at the beginning of the story. Kim SungHoon said it was him. “Don’t you think you look just like dad, TaeHyung?” An incoming phone call shakes TaeHyung out of his memories. The food deliverer informs him that no one is home to accept the order of hangover soup. “Huh? My father should be there…” TaeHyung confirms that the deliverer can leave the food outside the door, but he worries about his dad, who was passed out drunk and groaning in his sleep when he left for work. “SeokJin. I need to run home really quickly. Do you think you can watch the store for me?” TaeHyung leaves as soon as SeokJin gives a startled affirmative. The episode ends in SeokJin’s perspective. He’s curious and concerned about what is going on with TaeHyung, as he couldn’t overhear the phone call. Since leaving the store alone to follow TaeHyung may just create more trouble for him, SeokJin decides to stay put and look for clues.

Arriving home, TaeHyung brings the hangover soup inside and finds his father slouched in the corner. More soju bottles are lying out than when he left this morning. “Your lunch is here.” TaeHyung shakes him when there’s no response. “Wake up and eat.” Kim SungHoon mumbles something unintelligible, so TaeHyung nudges him again. His father shudders and cries out. “You bastard! I’d just gotten comfortable!” “Oh… I just wanted you to eat before the soup gets cold…” says TaeHyung. Kim SungHoon calls him a bastard for not listening. “I just told you to leave that damn thing here!” “Hah… Anyway, eat your lunch.” TaeHyung touches his shoulder again, and his father shoves him away. “The pain is killing me. Get lost, bastard!” TaeHyung yelps. The back of his neck burns from something he hit, but he doesn’t feel the pain over the rage brewing inside him. He can’t stand to look at his father for another second and kicks the door open to rush outside. “But of course. Why did I run over here to make sure that miserable geezer ate something?” he thinks bitterly. TaeHyung’s temper cools as he walks back to the store, and he remembers the pain in his neck. His fingers come away with blood when he touches the spot. He trudges onward, planning to bandage it at work. The memory of the rich father-son duo comes to mind: the man holding his son’s hand so tenderly, and the kid smiling brightly up at him. It makes TaeHyung even more miserable, and he fights to suppress the feelings that threaten to overflow.

Alone in the convenience store, SeokJin feels anxious not knowing when TaeHyung will return but decides to poke around, hoping to learn something like he did when observing NamJoon’s room at the gas station. He either looks through TaeHyung’s backpack or a full box near the register. The box is only a makeshift lost-and-found with customers’ forgotten items. Despite his discomfort at rooting through someone’s belongings, SeokJin finds the crumpled photograph of TaeHyung as a baby with his father in the bag. “He wouldn’t be carrying it around if he truly hated his father. But it wouldn’t be crumpled if he liked him, either. Is it… love and hate?” SeokJin wonders. He also finds a post-it stuck on the counter with a note left by HoSeok: “I packed this for myself but Auntie invited me over for dinner. There are two patties inside. Make sure to enjoy it and write me a full review at least one page long!” SeokJin realizes they’ve spent all this time looking out for each other. He’s glad to see the signs of HoSeok taking care of TaeHyung and TaeHyung being grateful enough to keep the note.

When TaeHyung returns, SeokJin is concerned to see blood from a cut on his neck. “Are you okay, TaeHyung? What happened to your neck?” But TaeHyung avoids looking at him and doesn’t answer, instead putting on a bandage and continuing work. SeokJin ignores a call from Uncle JunHo, deciding it’s more important to look after TaeHyung. “Are you sure you can stay here all day like this, SeokJin? Aren’t there people at home wondering where you are?” TaeHyung speaks up at that moment. SeokJin smiles sheepishly. But with the incident looming ahead on the 20th and no solutions yet to avert it, he has no choice but to stick close to him. After TaeHyung’s shift ends, SeokJin asks what he’s doing now. The red seeping through the bandage worries him. “I’m just… gonna go paint some graffiti,” says TaeHyung. He reluctantly agrees to allow SeokJin to tag along. His phone vibrates before they leave. “Sis? What’s going on? What? The emergency room? Why is Dad there? Hold on. I’ll be right there!” TaeHyung runs out. SeokJin catches up to offer him a ride, which he accepts after a moment’s hesitation.

The perspective switches to TaeHyung when they arrive at the hospital and find his sister waiting with an uneasy expression. She thinks that their father was injured at work. When she tapped him lightly to wake him up for dinner, it caused him a lot of pain. TaeHyung remembers the incident at lunchtime and wonders if he felt like that earlier, too. Eunhye notices SeokJin, and TaeHyung introduces them, noticing that her hand seems to make her uncomfortable. “Did you hurt yourself, sis? What happened to your hand?” “Oh, it’s nothing. I… tripped before we came to the hospital.” TaeHyung knows she’s lying but doesn’t argue. He pretends not to see her injuries, and she pretends not to see the one on his neck—like they always do. Eunhye voices concern about the high bill, which the hospital wants them to pay before discharging their father tomorrow. “The company will take care of it if he was injured at work,” SeokJin assures. TaeHyung finds the construction foreman’s number in his dad’s cell phone and calls him. Reporting the situation, he asks if his father’s injured back can be processed as an industrial accident. The foreman denies that they can help. “How can we cover an accident where Kim SungHoon was drunk on the job and failed to follow safety protocol?” The foreman informs him that he already gave Kim SungHoon money to see a doctor. “There’s nothing else to say, so I’m going to go. And I’m telling you—don’t try to pull anything.” TaeHyung swears when the call ends. Eunhye wonders if the foreman is mistaken because she doesn’t think their father drank that day. TaeHyung purses his lips shut instead of replying, filled with rage at the patronizing foreman and their incompetent father. He hates that he can’t say his dad isn’t the kind of person to drink on the job, and his body shakes with indescribable emotion.

“They won’t cover it as a workplace accident?” SeokJin asks, the perspective shifting to him. He knows the foreman is lying but is unsure how to help TaeHyung and his despairing sister. He could pay the hospital fee himself, but that was counterproductive when he tried it for NamJoon in an earlier loop. Noticing a text from Uncle JunHo asking where he is, SeokJin postpones his decision for later and bids TaeHyung a quick farewell. “I’m sure there’s a way to take care of all of this. Don’t worry too much. Take care of your dad. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

On 19 May, TaeHyung and his sister exit the hospital room with twin sighs. Their father called the foreman back after hearing about the first conversation and let loose, only hanging up when his supervisor agreed to speak in person at the hospital. He also demanded alcohol all night and only recently fell asleep. TaeHyung notices that Eunhye looks exhausted and suggests that they take a nap before the foreman arrives that evening. Later, the foreman arrives with some workers and a box of drinks. TaeHyung stands in the corner, not wanting to butt in since this is his father’s business. The foreman asks how Kim SungHoon is doing, advises him to rest, and then adds, “We’re here to say that you shouldn’t bring up compensation since it’s your fault you were injured.” The foreman accuses him of drinking on the job, and the coworkers Kang and Seo nervously agree. Kim SungHoon argues back about being denied the scaffolding and drops the box of drinks, a “token of their sincerity,” on the floor. While the other works avert their gaze, the foreman looks down on him and clucks his tongue. “You bastard! You call yourself a man?!” Kim SungHoon roars. The foreman bristles. “What? Bastard? Watch your mouth punk!”

Eunhye tries to intervene, pleading for her father to calm down and apologizing on his behalf. The foreman accepts her actions like it’s the obvious thing for her to do. His arrogant attitude reminds TaeHyung of how he probably deals with his underlings. “Sir. My father wasn’t drunk,” he speaks up. The foreman’s arrogant air dissipates. “What are you saying? I have witnesses here.” TaeHyung explains that his dad did not drink that day or the previous one. The foreman scoffs. “Look at this kid. Where’d you learn your manners? He probably drank on the way to work even if he didn’t at home! Who do you think you are, raising your voice like that?” TaeHyung’s hands tremble with rage at the injustice, but he has nothing to retort. Suddenly, SeokJin appears. “I also saw everything. Remember me? I was there on site for practical training that day. I watched him work and he definitely wasn’t drunk.” The foreman grows flustered as SeokJin reveals the truth of the site’s dangerous work process and makes it clear that he coerced Kim SungHoon into not following the correct procedure. He glares between SeokJin and TaeHyung. “I don’t know how you both are putting up this united front… But you think it’s going to change things? We already paid him. It’s a done deal. Understood?” Fuming, the foreman leaves with the other workers in tow. “It’s alright now, TaeHyung.” SeokJin gently taps his shoulder. TaeHyung realizes how tense he has been when he loosens his grip and sees little crescents of his fingernails cut into his palms. (His wounded palms are a recurring motif.)

The perspective shifts to SeokJin while TaeHyung stares blankly at his hands. He decides to come clean about his payment of Kim SungHoon’s hospital bill, since the problem with NamJoon was that he paid it secretly. “You can think of it as borrowing—” “Thanks, SeokJin,” TaeHyung interrupts. “I’ll pay back all of it. Thank you.” SeokJin is a little shocked by his response—it is the first time he’s heard “thank you” from TaeHyung. He hopes that this is the beginning of solving TaeHyung’s problems and bids farewell for the day. Outside the hospital, SeokJin runs into HoSeok, who correctly guesses that he came to visit TaeHyung. “How’d you know?” “I stopped by TaeHyung’s work and didn’t see him, so I called him right away,” HoSeok explains. SeokJin expects him to ask about Kim SungHoon, but instead HoSeok worries about his friend first. “Is TaeHyung alright? He must’ve been so shocked. He cares a lot about his dad…” “TaeHyung does?” SeokJin checks. “Yeah. Even though he says that he doesn’t want to go home all the time, he always makes sure his dad gets a real meal every day. Even if he just eats convenience store snacks himself.” This is new information to SeokJin, who wonders if this is why TaeHyung is determined to go home on the 20th. HoSeok seems more familiar with TaeHyung’s sincerity than anyone else. SeokJin is still braced to explain how he knew about Kim SungHoon’s injury, but HoSeok is more focused on contacting TaeHyung and continues on towards the hospital. Overcome with exhaustion as his tension ebbs, SeokJin trudges home to plan his next move.

Later on 19 May, TaeHyung helps his father walk home after he is discharged from the hospital. He is grateful that SeokJin paid the bill but even more so that he intervened to verify Kim SungHoon’s unjust treatment. “SeokJin might be a better person than I thought.” No words are exchanged as TaeHyung supports his father. His arm is thin, but the weight that presses down on him is burdensome. “It’s the weight of the wheel that I can’t escape. The weight of reality—that I’m always going to be responsible for my father. A person that I wish I could let go, but can’t, and the contradictory feelings of hating my father but wanting to protect him.” In a perspective switch, SeokJin watches at a distance with bated breath. Even though TaeHyung seems accustomed to helping his father walk, Kim SungHoon raises his voice every time he almost falls. SeokJin guesses that TaeHyung is adamant about going home on the 20th because he is worried about his father, who is just out of the hospital, but all he sees is violence against his sister when he arrives. “I’m going to stop it this time, no matter what,” he vows.

On 20 May, SeokJin stands at the bus stop and touches the graffiti for which TaeHyung was arrested the previous night. (It’s the “I’m Fine” message depicted at the same location in the Highlight Reel.) He wonders what TaeHyung felt when he painted it and feels uneasy that he may not be handling this sequence correctly. SeokJin shakes away this premature doubt. There’s one thing that has changed from the previous loop: him. He has protected Kim SungHoon after his injury, paid the hospital bill, and built up enough credibility with TaeHyung to earn his thanks. This time, he reassures himself, his words will get through to his friend. Later, SeokJin follows TaeHyung when he leaves the police station. They walk in silence, but TaeHyung does not push him away or ask why he’s following. “Thanks for walking me here, SeokJin,” he speaks up when they arrive at his house. SeokJin waits a few moments before heading inside after him, entering a familiar situation he has seen far too many times: TaeHyung lunging toward his father, who looms near Eunhye. “TaeHyung! No!” SeokJin dashes to grab his arm. “Let go!” TaeHyung snarls and flails. SeokJin holds tighter, pleading for him to calm down. TaeHyung yells and shoves him away. SeokJin slams into something and falls, pain blooming in his skull. TaeHyung spins around with an expression of shock. The voices calling SeokJin grow fainter, and his vision blurs. “Tae… Hyung…” The glass shatters, marking another failed loop and concluding the story. (This is not the first time TaeHyung has caused SeokJin grave or mortal injury during his intervention: in the Save Me webtoon, he accidentally stabbed SeokJin with the broken bottle instead of his father.)

Nightmare: Epilogue

Throughout the <I’M FINE> series, we have witnessed SeokJin’s trials and failures in the earlier time loops. These experiences culminate in the Epilogue, titled “Nightmare,” as in The Notes 1. This arc spans his efforts to save each of his friends between 11 April and 22 May rather than focusing on one or two characters. SeokJin’s decisions and their consequences here closely follow The Notes 1, so now we have a more detailed picture of his journey between the Save Me webtoon and the first book. The Epilogue fills in some gaps and provides greater depth to these events. For the sake of clearer context, I have still summarized the moments that parallel The Notes 1.

On 11 April Year 22, SeokJin opens his eyes to the familiar bedroom ceiling, the events of the previous loop replaying in his mind. Will he be able to save his friends this time? Uncertainty, horror, and the fresh pain of failure plague him, but he looks at the photo of his friends by the sea. Once, he believed that saving them would be straightforward. But while obsessing over only the problems that he could see, SeokJin lost his way and had to learn from his mistakes. The “signal fires” that helped guide him back were the times spent with his friends, the moments they began to truly understand each other, and the memories he wants to treasure. As he leaves his room, he reflects: “We’re all connected together by a single string, and we’re fated to save one another. And the person to finally put an end to all of this… has to be me.”

In his car, SeokJin encounters a scene at the school crosswalk that he always runs into around this time. He sees a downcast-looking JungKook crossing the street among a group of students. The player is given an option to get out of the car to greet him or pass him by. Regardless of the decision, SeokJin knows that he can’t let his emotions steer his actions. In a previous loop (depicted in JungKook’s arc), he brought JungKook to see the cherry blossoms blooming on the university campus. SeokJin wonders if the JungKook from that loop enjoyed it at least a little. But ultimately, it was just a day and JungKook ended up alone with nothing changed. Not wanting to repeat his past mistakes, SeokJin drives by without stopping.

Later that night, SeokJin pulls into Naeri gas station. NamJoon greets him with a now-familiar look of surprise. “Oh. SeokJin?” “It’s been a while.” SeokJin is determined to make this the last time they repeat this conversation. (As mentioned in part 1, this sequence parallels their moment at the end of the Blood Sweat & Tears Japanese version MV.) As they move to a corner of the station to continue their conversation, the perspective shifts to NamJoon. Something seems a little weird to him, and SeokJin looks like he has a lot to say, but he manages to gloss over it. NamJoon is about to invite him to the meetup with the other guys after work, but his boss yells for him to do his job. An expensive foreign car pulls up to the gas pump, and the customer drops the money on the ground when NamJoon reaches for it. “Ah, butterfingers. What are you doing? Not gonna pick that up?” the man sneers. The player is presented the choice to pick up the money or not. In both paths, NamJoon unconsciously clenches his fists. “You don’t want it?” asks the customer. The paths converge with SeokJin easily picking up the bills and handing them back to the driver. “You dropped this.” Hands shaking, NamJoon is mortified by the situation that caused SeokJin to react, yet his friend continues to stand there between him and the customer. The man demands who he is, but SeokJin advises, “You must be busy… So you should leave.” Out of steam, the customer drives off. NamJoon thanks SeokJin. “It’s nothing. What were you going to tell me earlier?” NamJoon forces his mouth to move. “Ah. I’m meeting up with TaeHyung and HoSeok today after work. Do you want to come with me?”

Back in SeokJin’s perspective, these are the words he’s been waiting for. Nerves dry his mouth, but he tries to speak naturally and inquires about the others. NamJoon doesn’t really keep in touch with them, but offers to call HoSeok, who still talks to YoonGi. SeokJin knows that YoonGi will call JungKook after hearing from HoSeok—this is how he saves JungKook tonight. His phone buzzes with a call from his father. “Oh, I’m sorry… But I need to leave.” NamJoon’s expression reflects disappointment yet understanding. “That’s too bad. Let’s hang out another time.” “Yeah. Tell the guys hello for me.” SeokJin turns back as he arrives at his car. “NamJoon. If we can get everyone together… Let’s all go to the ocean.” NamJoon looks puzzled by the suggestion. “The ocean?” SeokJin smiles in lieu of an explanation.

The third episode begins with JungKook fighting a group of thugs in a covered alley. (The date is unspecified, but this is a continuation of the night of 11 April.) They kick his stomach and spit on the ground as they walk away, a sight that reinvigorates him even though he can barely sit up. He either says something to provoke them or hurls his bag at them. Riled up, they beat him again as he laughs, vision blurring. They’re gone by the time everything comes back into focus. JungKook got what he wanted: he deliberately provoked them, and when he laughed, they called him crazy and hit him harder. He watches a breeze flatten a tuft of grass in the pavement, just like him. JungKook forces himself to laugh again because he’s afraid he may cry. Where does he go now? He feels like a ghost at home: he’s never a priority for his mom, and dealing with his stepfather is a pain. JungKook closes his eyes, hoping that when he opens them, he won’t be here.

The scene that follows appears to be a memory of 7 April, although it is not specified as such and is written in present tense. (This encounter occurs in The Notes 1 as well as episode 4 of JungKook’s story.) While wandering the streets at night, JungKook is drawn by a familiar piano tune to a music shop with broken showroom windows. He sees YoonGi, for the first time in two years, playing within and looking like he will crumble at any moment. JungKook can’t muster up the courage to follow when he leaves and instead sits at the piano. The keys feel cold like no one has touched them. By memory, he stumbles through the song that YoonGi played this night and back in the classroom hideout. YoonGi appears beside him and corrects the notes like he did in their school days.

The story cuts to YoonGi in the present, possibly in the classroom. He ignores his ringing phone partly because of his drunken stupor and partly because he doesn’t want to talk, but he finally relents and answers. HoSeok offers that NamJoon wants to hang out later. “I’m not going,” YoonGi says immediately. “Hey, don’t be like that. SeokJin’s here, too. Do you want to talk to JungKook? I called him earlier, but he didn’t pick up.” HoSeok encourages YoonGi to call instead because JungKook may pick up for him. YoonGi hangs up, thoughts complicated as he remembers a time when he watched JungKook play piano. “Looking back, that kid was my shadow. I couldn’t ignore him, even if he wasn’t speaking to me. And I kept looking out for him… because it seemed like he’d fall apart if he was ignored.” He considers leaving it be, but his fingers are already dialing.

The perspective switches again: on a rooftop overlooking Songju, JungKook grows dizzy and stumbles. Darkness grasps his ankles, and his mind empties. “I don’t want to leave anything behind. This will just be the end.” At that moment, his phone rings. He sees YoonGi’s name, and everything sharpens, as though he’s awoken from a dream. “What took you so long to pick up?” asks YoonGi. When JungKook doesn’t answer, he continues, “Everyone’s meeting up later. Do you want to go?” After a pause, JungKook says, “YoonGi. Please come get me.” (From the thug beating to the rooftop, this is how his 11 April entry plays out in The Notes 1, but it ends before their phone conversation.) Waiting for YoonGi down on the street, JungKook recalls when they all used to hang out in the classroom. “I have a place to go. People to be with. Right now, that’s enough.”

On 2 May, SeokJin sneaks into YoonGi’s workroom, which is filled with oil-soaked papers as though he intended to set it on fire. (It’s dark, so as the later part of the episode occurs in the daytime, it must be past midnight or in the early morning.) There is no foolproof way to save YoonGi since he acts unpredictably between the loops, but SeokJin has determined that YoonGi needs someone who can tie him to the world—someone whom he won’t push away. Once, NamJoon told SeokJin that JungKook still carried the photo they took at the beach. (The photo depicted in the game is the one of the boys on the wall by the sea.) While NamJoon probably relayed this to show that JungKook hasn’t forgotten about SeokJin, it stirs a different memory for him. In high school when they ditched and went to the beach, hunting for a boulder that supposedly made dreams come true, SeokJin noticed JungKook ask YoonGi an important question while their voices were drowned out by construction noise. He has now realized that both JungKook and YoonGi have the same desperation in their eyes. JungKook knows that YoonGi is like him: a person who needs a string to hold him here. Therefore, JungKook is the key to saving YoonGi.

SeokJin places his copy of the photograph next to the mirror in the workroom, hoping it will lead to saving them both. Before he can leave, footsteps grow closer. Flustered, he chooses to either explain himself honestly or hide. In both paths, YoonGi stumbles inside and collapses on the sofa, too drunk to notice that someone else is in the room. In the second path, some extra information is presented when SeokJin notices a little water dish and paper cup with breadcrumbs as he hides beside the piano. “He must’ve looked after it again.” In another loop, SeokJin saw a small, weak bird that got mistakenly trapped in the workroom. YoonGi looked after it, most likely thinking of JungKook. (This particular episode is called Small Bird, so the title may only be meaningful to players who choose this path or are familiar with the bird from The Notes 1.)

SeokJin escapes undetected while YoonGi sleeps. Later in the day, he watches the workroom from his car. The most difficult part starts now: JungKook must follow the hints SeokJin has left to save YoonGi. After staring up at the second floor for a while with an unhappy expression, JungKook seems to make up his mind and enters the building. The story cuts briefly to YoonGi’s perspective. In the workroom, the mirror shatters. (The reason is unspecified, so we are left to wonder if a confrontation unfolded like the one depicted in the Run MV and implied in The Notes 1, or if something else occurred.) Dizzy, YoonGi falters but manages to stand up. (Again, standing up from what? Possibly because JungKook hit him.) “YoonGi…” JungKook is rooted to the spot in surprise. YoonGi runs, leaving him behind. Back in his perspective, SeokJin starts the car as soon as he sees JungKook dash out of the building. He hopes that leaving “a sign” will guide JungKook to the correct motel. (In The Notes 1, it is a bloody tissue that SeokJin drops by the entrance gate because YoonGi fled his workroom with busted lips. The game episode closely follows how this scenario proceeds in Notes 1, so I’m not sure why it is so cryptic around the details implying that a fight occurred between YoonGi and JungKook.) Inside the motel (once again matching the I Need U MV), YoonGi lights the bedsheets on fire. He regrets having JungKook by his side because the people close to him get hurt. The memories of his childhood burn along with the flames: fragments of the day he arrived home and found it collapsing in a fire. YoonGi hears JungKook shouting. “I’m sure… He’ll be sad because of me. But he won’t be unhappy anymore,” he thinks. JungKook shouts for him to get up, and YoonGi finally looks at him. His last view of the room encompasses the red flames, the air wavy with heat, and JungKook’s crumpled face. The episode ends with sirens playing over a black screen.

Episode 5, “Connecting Threads,” picks up on 12 May with SeokJin preparing to set events in motion for saving his next pair of friends. At the hospital, he waits for JiMin to show up and overhears a conversation between a nurse and doctor. If SeokJin stays where he is, they notice him and postpone their discussion, but if he steps out of sight, they continue. The nurse mentions “patient Park JiMin” who has “transferred down from the 9th floor.” She reports that he keeps roaming the hallways at night and wonders if they should stop him “just in case.” “He’ll be headed back up in about three days or so. Just leave him be. If it really bothers you, check with them,” advises the doctor. SeokJin moves to his precalculated spot when they leave, planning to lead JiMin to the stairs so that he’ll run into HoSeok on his way down. In his perspective, JiMin is troubled by his stiff wrist as he waits for the elevator. A familiar voice suddenly calling his name draws him to the stairwell, but the light makes it difficult to see its owner.

The story cuts to HoSeok wrapping up a consultation with the same doctor from earlier. The doctor states that they haven’t noticed any huge issues and that he’ll be discharged soon. “Do you have any discomfort still?” “Nope, I’m fine!” HoSeok answers energetically and even strikes an exaggerated pose, feeling that he needs to. “Please take care to avoid any future collapses,” the doctor adds. This comment makes HoSeok either recall the last time he collapses or the last moment he spent with his mom. In the first memory, he collapses on the bridge as he thinks about his sick Auntie leaving him alone after she has always been at his side. In the second, he stands at the merry-go-round and wonders if his mom will be standing there when he finishes counting. “Sir… Sir? Are you alright?” The doctor’s questioning shakes HoSeok out of the past. He wants to say hello to JiMin before he leaves the hospital, but JiMin’s bed has been empty for a while. Worried, HoSeok heads to the elevator to look for him. A woman dressed in a long skirt and hat passes by with her child. “Mom!” Convinced that she’s his mother, HoSeok chases after her. He shoves past people, breathing ragged and heart pounding. Afraid to lose her, he either yells out again or goes to the stairs. The results are ultimately the same because she doesn’t respond to his shouts and disappears into the stairwell. HoSeok skips steps down the stairs in his haste. “Mom!” His foot suddenly slips, throwing his weight forward. He flails, but there’s nothing to grab onto—and suddenly, his fall is arrested by someone grabbing his arm. “HoSeok?” “JiMin? How are you here…?” JiMin looks equally surprised. HoSeok realizes it’s obvious that the woman isn’t his mom. Though he can’t remember her face anymore, he still can’t let her go. “Are you alright, HoSeok?” JiMin asks. HoSeok figures that JiMin doesn’t inquire about what he was doing or why because he already knows. “I wonder if JiMin is like me… living trapped in the past. If he’s unable to get better and move on, stuck inside the memories that bind him…” “JiMin,” HoSeok says aloud. “Let’s get out of here.”

From JiMin’s perspective now, he notices that everything about HoSeok in this moment is different from normal. “Get out of here?” JiMin echoes. Outside is unfamiliar and scary, and he knows that even if he escapes the hospital, he will still have to return some day. “JiMin, I’ll come back for you.” HoSeok leaves without waiting for an answer. Not wanting to say goodbye, JiMin follows him secretly as he’s discharged from the hospital. He stops at the line where the hallway ends up on the ninth floor, watching the bright sunlight filter in through the open door. JiMin turns away, believing that the place to which he needs to return isn’t outside but the ninth floor. “Because… I’m a patient.” The rest of episode 6 follows the events in his 15 May Year 22 entry of The Notes 1, with only minor dialogue changes. HoSeok pulls JiMin out of his hospital bed the night before he is scheduled to return to the psychiatric ward. SeokJin and NamJoon meet them in the elevator, while JungKook, TaeHyung, and YoonGi are waiting for them in the first floor lobby. A nurse finds them and sees through YoonGi’s flimsy excuse that they’re having a birthday party. Throwing snack bags and plastic bottles, they all run toward the exit. (This sequence is likely the one depicted in the Euphoria MV, although in the video it’s staged during the daytime instead of at night.) JiMin unconsciously slows as he nears the invisible boundary in the hallway, but HoSeok’s urging grants him the courage to cross the line. Passing through the door, he draws in a breath of fresh air and feels on the verge of crying.

The beginning of episode 7 follows SeokJin’s preparations to prevent TaeHyung’s incident on 20 May in the same fashion as The Notes 1. He waits at the park on the hill behind TaeHyung’s apartment building until HoSeok escorts TaeHyung home from his night at the police station. With careful timing, SeokJin calls HoSeok after he sees the two part ways and asks him to invite TaeHyung to their beach trip in two days. HoSeok turns around toward TaeHyung’s apartment.

The next sequence provides more details of the confrontation (and notably unfolds a little differently than what is depicted in the I Need U MV). TaeHyung arrives home to a familiar stale odor of mold and stench of alcohol. “Where the hell have you been all night?!” TaeHyung turns to see his father’s bloodshot eyes and his sister standing behind him, face swollen. Defiance surges through him, but the desperation in Eunhye’s eyes roots him to the spot. “TaeHyung, tell Dad you’re sorry and go to your room.” TaeHyung either apologizes, holding his anger in, or tries to go straight to his room. In both paths, Kim SungHoon yells that a beating should set him straight. He seizes TaeHyung by the collar. Something bursts and rages inside him. “What have I done wrong?! You’re the one who needs to get things straight!” His father stammers in shock, “W-what did you say?!” while his sister calls his name in warning. TaeHyung chooses to shake him off or hold still. In the first path, he shoves his father to the floor. “Why are you doing this? How long? How long do we have to keep doing this?!” In the second path, Kim SungHoon snarls that he has a lot of nerve to look him in the eye and strikes his cheek. “Why do I need a beating?” TaeHyung thinks.

The paths converge with Eunhye begging their father to stop. The voice continues thundering in TaeHyung’s head: “Why does my sister need a beating? How long are you going to do this?” “You two are a double dose of pain in my ass today!” Kim SungHoon swings at Eunhye, who has thrown herself between them, and she sways at the rough blow. The injustice of it all stokes TaeHyung’s rage. “What have we done wrong? Why do we have to live in fear like this?” Heart pounding, he notices that the cold bottle he’s somehow picked up grows warmer from the heat of his hand. He roars and charges forward. A shattering sound plays over a black screen, and someone cries, “No—! TaeHyung, stop!” TaeHyung comes to his senses. HoSeok is hugging his midsection, his sister is crying, and his father is nowhere to be seen. He wonders whose blood is on his hand. HoSeok stands there silently, looking like he has a lot to say but holding back. “I’m sorry, HoSeok. I’m okay… So you can go now,” TaeHyung says, calm voice belying his inner turmoil. “I want to cry, to scream, to kick, break, shatter everything. I want to fall apart, but I can’t do any of the things I want.” The world spins as he closes his eyes. Mind blank, TaeHyung craves NamJoon’s presence and wants to talk to him—to tell him that he almost killed his father.

The eighth and final episode, “The Pier,” closely follows the version of 22 May in The Notes 1, with the addition of SeokJin’s perspective providing greater depth to the events. The boys make it to the same beach they visited in high school. The observation platform strikes TaeHyung as familiar. As the sun sets, he remembers this all occurring in a dream, except that SeokJin climbs the platform instead of him. Atop the platform, SeokJin is fearful and full of emotions. Memories flash by of their suffering and loneliness, his failures and desire to give up as the misfortunes repeated. He is relieved that TaeHyung does not follow him. At nightfall, they head to where they’re staying. (In The Notes 1, this location is simply called their lodging, and in The Notes 2 it is referred to as a lodge by the beach that SeokJin reserved under his name. In the game, the room appears like the one in the Run MV party scenes (0’57”, 3’00”, etc.), down to the same string lights and sconces—more on this in the Additional Commentary section below.) As the others dance and laugh, SeokJin realizes that this is the first time they’ve made it this far. “It’s something I hoped so desperately for… and a day I thought would never come. We were all lonely once. We hid our own scars and lived through it alone. But it’s different now. We’re all by each other’s sides. We’ll never be alone again.” Despite these thoughts, he has a nagging feeling because he hasn’t told them the truth. SeokJin is afraid of their reactions, but this will be the only way “to really see them properly.” He announces, “I have something to say.” Only TaeHyung turns to look at him through the chaos.

TaeHyung balls up his prickling hand, wondering if this is about the dream he asked SeokJin about several days earlier. (The location of this conversation is unspecified in The Notes 1, but the game provides a flashback shot of it at the bus stop.) His frustration grows when SeokJin begins to mention high school instead. TaeHyung interrupts sharply, believing that SeokJin is still cowardly avoiding the truth. “Are you talking about when you spied for the principal in high school and told him everything we were up to? Or were you going to mention how, because of that… YoonGi got expelled?!” The mood in the room chills. “I’m sorry.” SeokJin drops his head, while the others look away or stare in surprise. But TaeHyung doesn’t want to be unhappy without knowing why, even if the truth is worse than the nightmare. “Is that all? Or are you hiding more from us?”

The perspective switches back to SeokJin. He guesses that TaeHyung is asking about the dream but can’t reveal that the tragedies he experienced were real, believing that no one else should have to suffer with that knowledge. NamJoon approaches and tries to calm TaeHyung, but TaeHyung pushes him away. “Stay out of this, NamJoon. Why does it matter to you? You’re not my brother.” (In the album Note from Her and as a flashback in The Notes 1, TaeHyung overheard NamJoon talking on the phone while they walked to their lodging. NamJoon was speaking to his parents about his younger brother being old enough to take care of himself, but TaeHyung apparently took this to heart as something about himself. It hurt and angered him deeply.) “TaeHyung, I’m sorry,” SeokJin attempts to plead with him. “Stop it, Kim TaeHyung!” NamJoon warns. TaeHyung demands again that SeokJin explain everything. The interrogation unleashes all the memories of his friends’ tragedies that he has tried to forget. SeokJin feels like his nightmares are going to become reality, and his mind goes blank as TaeHyung and NamJoon continue to argue. “I repeated so many moments of suffering… for you… Why are you doing this to me?! I only wanted to be able to laugh together.” A little flame grows within SeokJin, an indescribable feeling cresting like a wave. This is what his countless attempts have led to? “What’s so great about being together?” Shaking off NamJoon’s arm, TaeHyung yells, “Who are we to one another? We’re all alone in the end!” “Alone…” The thing SeokJin has desperately been holding onto breaks away, and the shaking in his hands now consumes his entire body.

SeokJin hits TaeHyung. He remembers TaeHyung’s sudden jump off the seaside platform—a time he thought he saved them all. “I even kept that from happening—and he says we’re all alone in the end? The hopes I had for all of us to be happy, and for us to face coming days together… It all feels like it was for nothing. I thought I left my repeating misfortunes behind me, but I now see them again, taunting me from just ahead.” This concludes the Epilogue and the <I’M FINE> series. Notably, the glass does not break, suggesting that this loop continues from this event (as it does in The Notes 1) without yet resetting.

Additional Commentary

The only point I want to touch on here is the depiction of the boys’ lodging on 22 May after their beach trip and its potential implications. In The Notes 1, this location is simply called their lodging, and in The Notes 2 it is referred to as a lodge by the beach that SeokJin reserved under his name. In the game, the room appears like the one in the Run MV party scenes (0’57”, 3’00”, etc.), down to the same string lights and sconces.

As a standalone MV set, this location felt (to me) more metaphorical than concrete. It’s introduced after NamJoon opens the door of a train’s shipping container, a little film editing trick as though it’s a world inside—and it does feel like a space away from the real world where the boys are free to let loose, revel in their youth, and be themselves. While it seemed to serve as a more glamorous substitute for NamJoon’s shipping container where they often gathered, this location also appeared to stand in for the location of JungKook and YoonGi’s confrontation (2’24”-2’55”). An altercation between them is heavily implied in SeokJin’s 2 May entry from The Notes 1, but it occurs in YoonGi’s workroom. Since Run is an MV rather than one of the short films, which always present BU events and locations more literally than their song counterparts, it doesn’t seem too unusual that these sets are condensed to one in this video. YoonGi’s workroom isn’t portrayed until Highlight Reel, so we can kind of excuse one of the earliest MVs for artistic license.

However… the inclusion of this location in the game considerably changes the circumstances! Since it is both canon and animated, the creators had the ability to design the settings as they are truly intended to appear (within the general limitations of the game’s engine and visual style). It must have been a very deliberate choice that led to the reuse of the Run MV’s set for the 22 May beach lodging. (For what it’s worth, I have always interpreted SeokJin’s and TaeHyung’s fight in the Japanese MV for Blood Sweat & Tears to represent the fallout of that night, and that is staged in a different set.)

To further complicate matters, a date has been explicitly attached to one of the scenes in Run because it is matched shot-for-shot in the BU Story trailer Map of the Soul—and it is neither 2 or 22 May.

24 July Year 22 is not reached in <I’M FINE>, but in the Notes, this is the date the boys plan to gather at NamJoon’s container to celebrate JungKook’s discharge from the hospital. So far in The Notes 1 and 2 (and various album-accompanying Notes from MotS: Persona and 7), this event has hardly manifested as the celebration it is intended to be. This particular shot maps a little better to the circumstances in Notes 2, as not all of them even show up in Notes 1. But again, this gathering occurs at the container—so what, and where, is this shot really depicting? How is it linked to the beach lodging they visit in some loops on 22 May?

BU has been in development for years now, so I believe there is intentionality behind this location’s depiction in the game, even if it raises more questions than it answers. Perhaps it is foreshadowing a very different version of 24 July in which they return again to the beach lodging. This is my best guess for now, and it’s exciting to think that there are still hints embedded in the older MVs for aspects of the plot that have yet to be fully revealed in The Notes.

What do you think? Did you notice the location parallels if you played the game, and did they inspire any new theories for you?

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As mentioned above, the following “tl;dr” commentary summarizes the parenthetical notes I provided in the summaries in case you want to review them on their own.

Heart’s Distance — tl;dr commentary

In the opening cutscene, TaeHyung’s photograph of his father holding him as a baby looks similar to the one he holds at 1’48” in the HYYH On Stage: Prologue short film.

During the gathering at NamJoon’s container after everyone freed JiMin from the hospital, SeokJin asks, “How long has it been since we’ve all laughed together?” This is a reference to the recurring phrase “we can laugh when we’re together” present throughout the Notes and occasionally this game.

On 19 May, TaeHyung is arrested for vandalism while painting graffiti on the streets. The bus stop depicted in the shot is the same as the one in Highlight Reel.

In the shot in the game illustrating TaeHyung’s choice on 20 May that he “can’t take back,” he approaches his father from behind and the sound of glass occurs on a cut to black. We know from the I Need U MV and Save Me webtoon that he fatally stabs his father.

When SeokJin asks Uncle JunHo for a favor to visit a construction site for practical training, JunHo expresses that SeokJin’s father seems to be interested, too. “Make sure to use this opportunity to take a thorough look around. It’ll all be helpful to you later,” JunHo advises. It’s helpful to know that Assemblyman Kim ChangJun is involved in some shady business with a construction company—this is revealed in The Notes 2.

After the foreman leaves his father’s hospital room, TaeHyung realizes how tense he has been when he loosens his grip and sees little crescents of his fingernails cut into his palms. His wounded palms are a recurring motif.

On 20 May, SeokJin stands at the bus stop and touches the graffiti for which TaeHyung was arrested the previous night. It’s the “I’m Fine” message depicted at the same location in the Highlight Reel.

The story ends with SeokJin losing consciousness after TaeHyung shoved him away and he slammed into something, marking another failed attempt while preventing the homicide. This is not the first time TaeHyung has caused SeokJin grave or mortal injury during his intervention: in the Save Me webtoon, he accidentally stabbed SeokJin with the broken bottle instead of his father.

Nightmare: Epilogue — tl;dr commentary

SeokJin and NamJoon’s conversation when they reunite at the gas station on the night of 11 April begins with 2 familiar phrases: “Oh. SeokJin?” “It’s been a while.” As mentioned in part 1, this sequence parallels their moment at the end of the Blood Sweat & Tears Japanese version MV.

In episode 3, the scene of JungKook finding YoonGi playing piano at the music shop appears to be a memory of 7 April, although it is not explicitly stated as such. This encounter occurs in The Notes 1 as well as episode 4 of JungKook’s story.

From JungKook’s beating at the hands of thugs to the rooftop, this is how his 11 April entry plays out in The Notes 1, but it ends before his phone conversation with YoonGi.

SeokJin reflects on a time NamJoon told him that JungKook still carried the photo they took at the beach. The photo depicted in the game is the one of the boys on the wall by the sea.

Episode 4 is called “Small Bird,” yet the bird is only referenced in one of the choice’s paths (SeokJin hides behind the piano in YoonGi’s workroom). The title may be more meaningful to players who choose this path or are familiar with the bird from The Notes 1.

The game is even more cryptic than The Notes 1 about JungKook and YoonGi’s apparent altercation on 2 May in his workroom. When the perspective cuts to YoonGi, the mirror has already been shattered. The reason is unspecified, so we are left to wonder if a confrontation unfolded like the one depicted in the Run MV and implied in The Notes 1, or if something else occurred. The “sign” that SeokJin leaves to guide JungKook to the correct motel is also unspecified, but in The Notes 1, it is a bloody tissue because YoonGi fled his workroom with busted lips.

The motel room that YoonGi sets on fire in this loop once again matches the I Need U MV.

JiMin’s escape sequence from the hospital is likely the one depicted in the Euphoria MV, although in the video it’s staged during the daytime instead of at night.

TaeHyung’s confrontation with his father on 20 May unfolds a little differently than what is depicted in the I Need U MV.

Some notes/thoughts on the 22 May post-beach trip lodging are included in the Additional Commentary section above.

TaeHyung has a flashback to several days prior to 22 May when he asked SeokJin about his recurring dreams. The location of this conversation is unspecified in The Notes 1, but it’s depicted at the bus stop in the game.

TaeHyung pushes NamJoon away physically and verbally when he tries to interrupt his interrogation of SeokJin at the lodging. “Stay out of this, NamJoon. Why does it matter to you? You’re not my brother.” In the album Note from Her and as a flashback in The Notes 1, TaeHyung overheard NamJoon talking on the phone while they walked to their lodging. NamJoon was speaking to his parents about his younger brother being old enough to take care of himself, but TaeHyung apparently took this to heart as something about himself. It hurt and angered him deeply.

Notably, the glass does not break at the end of the Epilogue, suggesting that this loop continues from this event (as it does in The Notes 1) without yet resetting.

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This brings us to the end of the BTS Universe Story <I’M FINE> highlights! This series turned out a little different than I originally envisioned, but I hope you found these summaries helpful and worthwhile to read. If you have any questions, important details that you felt I overlooked, or theories of your own that you would like to share, feel free to send me an ask!

For more informational storyline content, please check out the Timeline project, currently in development!

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tell-tale-taeil · 3 years

Photo

A customer (Chapter 1 out of 2)

Protagonists: Jeno Lee, original character, NCT Dream members mentioned Genre: mystery, noir, self-knowledge “Jeno wanders to a mysterious bookstore where he encounters even more mysterious individual, but somewhere deep down Jeno knows that this story is actually only about him.” TW: none

See other members’ stories here:

TBA

Author’s note: When I saw this particular moodboard, an idea sparked inside my mind. With a constant support from my friends, I finally finished the first half of the story that I am presenting to you now. Thank you for your love and kindness, this is for you, I hope you’ll like it :) Special thanks to Woo and Volpe for proofreading <3

Any feedback, reactions, comments, recommendations or ideas for other members’ stories are welcomed, I wouldn’t mind turning this into a series.

Tagging: @neocluefor , @your-local--trashcan Let me know if you want to be added!

A dark, dim evening, the sun had just set, bits of the dusky orange sky shone through the maze of power lines, chimneys, rooftops and posts. As Jeno was walking down an empty tucked away backstreet, he felt like he set foot on a hidden crossroad between two worlds. The feeling of the unknown and the unexplored sent shivers down his spine and he quickened his pace, as he did not wish to get held up at here any longer than necessary. He told his manager he just wanted to grab something warm to eat and stretch his legs a little, but the truth was… He wanted to be alone.

Not so long ago Jeno realised he has a very rare gift – a gift of invisibility. Wherever he’d go, no matter how many people surrounded him, he felt unseen and unnoticed. Jeno, we need you to voice over this ad. Jeno, we need you to shoot a dance video. Jeno, we need you to smile for the photos. No, no, do the thing with your eyes, yes. Oh, you’re still here? We don’t need anything now. Sorry, were you saying something? Listen I gotta go, talk to you later maybe? Everyone knows Jeno the idol, but how many people have heard of Jeno the person? How many people remember Jeno the friend from school, Jeno the boy next door? What’s the point of rushing back into dorms, if he’s going to feel all the same? At least at here I can hear my own thoughts for a change. Without having to fight to get a word in. Noone’s interested in what you have to say anyway, so be a man, Jeno, and go sulk somewhere where people don’t have to look at your sorry face. Hmm, jjamppong sounds nice.

He walked where his feet led him, hands in the pockets of his coat, eyes staring blankly on the passing pavement tiles, red tiles, black tiles, grey tiles, shapes and figures, forms and contours. His mind unfocused, his thoughts scattered. Stop. Wait. Like in a dream, he saw himself standing in front of a narrow door, black paint flaking away, a few variously shaped and randomly placed yellow window panes, a big brass handle waiting to be pulled. He noticed a little oval plaque in his field of vision and the next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of a bookshop. A minute passed, maybe ten, maybe an hour. Jeno glanced around, scratching his head. „Uh… good evening!“ He bowed his head a little, even though he didn’t see anyone at the counter. Nevertheless, he felt like he’s being watched, scrutinized, evaluated. Something was staring at him and Jeno suddenly wished that he was invisible again. He turned his head to where he felt the uncomfortable feeling coming from and there it was - behind the desk, on the left side of the wall, squished between large overflowing bookcases, right next to a tall wooden coat-stand shaped like an old tree - a red door with a big round opened eye painted on it. The door was opened, just a few centimetres, and a faint piano music was coming from inside. Come in, if you dare.

Jeno cleared his throat. Might as well look around properly, before they come back out. It’s no use of shouting or trying to make myself heard while that song is still playing. Listening to the melancholic but somewhat promising tune, Jeno inspected the surroundings. The shop looked messy and untidy. Chaos was the king of this castle, carelessness the lady of this household and together they ruled over their tiny land made of heaps of books, magazines and papers haphazardly placed on each other, shelves full of postcards and pictures, walls covered with ornaments and embellishments. Without a single tag or label in sight, Jeno wondered how could anyone find anything in here. He imagined the miscellaneous objects flowing into the shop and never leaving again. His gaze landed on a flashy pink paper packet filled with chewing gums in a no less showy wrapper on one of the shelves. Cool, a freebie! He reached for the gum, unpacked it and threw it into his mouth only to immediately pull a disgusted face as he chewed into the candy. It was like biting into a tasteless rubber. He spit it back out into the crumpled wrapper, put it next to the rest of the unused gums and set out to look for a trash can. He tripped on the thick dusty carpet and nearly stepped on something that looked rather expensive. This must be a bookshop with super rare prints and antiquities of some kind, this isn’t a place for me, I don’t fit in here, I should leave. And so, he stayed, bound in the place by a force of increasing curiosity he did not quite understand.

The piano stopped playing. Perfect, now’s my chance. „Hello? You, uh, have a customer! Heh…“ he stuttered awkwardly. Jeno wasn’t the type of a person who would enjoy excessive attention. If he ever tried to voice his opinion and was met with disregard or unconcern, he would simply think it was because his opinion on that matter was stupid and pointless. That’s why he was fairly used to this, not being heard. The only difference was that usually the rest of the members would fill the room with their chatter, so his lack of involvement in the group activities would normally go unnoticed. Unlike here, where the only sound was a deathly silence and Jeno’s thoughts humming in his head. He already spoke twice, what more does he need to do to be heard? Raise his voice? I just want to buy a book and get out of here. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak and right at that moment, the piano started playing again.

„Wha-, are you kidding me?“ he mumbled quietly under his breath. He looked around, confused, as if he was looking for understanding and sympathy from the other angry customers waiting for their turn to be served. He was the only one here and yet they’re making him wait. What is this, a private concert? Did they possibly saw him coming? Did they think that they’ll impress him with playing lowkey creepy piano melodies? This better not be a prank. He really wasn’t in the mood for fans and he didn’t think he could fake a smile at this hour. But he didn’t notice any hidden cameras, or any security cameras at all for that matter. He paced around the room nervously, scratching his neck. That’s it, I’m leaving. I don’t need that book anyway. I don’t need anything. If they don’t want me here, that’s okay, I’ll do just fine on my own.

He made a few strides towards the front door and then turned around again. „Hellooo! I came here to ask about books! Books that you happen to be selling!“ he raised his voice to the most pleading yet still polite level. The piano stopped again and Jeno gazed hopefully at the red door. He started walking back to the counter, slowly, carefully, as if he didn’t want to scare off the possibility of finally being served. He leaned on the desk, ready to place his order, tapping his fingers impatiently on the dark wooden surface. And just like that, as if it wanted to laugh directly into Jeno’s face, the piano started playing yet another tune, as impatient as Jeno himself. He pursed his lips and bent his head down. What the heck is this place, huh? A bookstore or a concert venue? At least serve some coffee and cake next time! He could just leave, never come back and forget about this place. But he really needed that book, he’s been looking for it so long, and he knew, he just knew, that this is the right place to look for it.

„Alright!“ Jeno raised his head and pointed his index finger to the door, from which the music was coming. „I’m going in there! And I’m going to knock real loud, so you better not be scared or surprised or angry!“ I doubt they can hear me, he thought, as the music only grew louder and louder. Okay, here we go… He approached the door behind the counter, cautiously, and with his finger still pointing forwards he tapped on the red wood with his nail a few times, gingerly, like he was expecting the door to bite his hand, after a while he shook his head and finally made a few feeble knocks. He put his head inside with a quiet: „Excuse me…“ and peeped into the backroom. As soon as his foot touched the threshold, the music stopped playing and Jeno opened the door wide. The room was small and empty, safe for the piano by the wall. No other door, windows, cabinets, electrical appliances, boxes, merchandise, not even trash. Just four bare walls and the damn piano that he swore was playing just a mere second ago.

Jeno gulped, his hand on the doorknob, his feet midstep, his whole body ready to run in the even that something would go wrong. Now now, be brave. „Hello?“ his voice was dry, hoarse and small. Goosebumps covered his nape. „Oh! A customer!“ said a voice behind him. „JESUS CHRIST!“ Jeno nearly fell back onto the ground, as he made several hurried steps backwards, tripping over boxes, books and papers, knocking over the tree coat-stand which embraced him in its patulous grip, making him feel trapped. „Can I help you?“ said the voice and as Jeno’s ragged breath started to decelerate again and as the stars stopped dancing in front of his eyes, only now he saw a pale face hovering in the shadows of the dimly lit place. The initial shock was over and, gradually, the face grew hair, and connected with a torso, arms and legs. „I…“ Jeno stuttered as he finally untangled himself from the clasp of the coat-stand and stood straight, „came here to buy a book.“ He clutched his hand near his heart and blinked hard for a few times. Get a grip, man, get a grip. „Then you’re in the right place! After all, this is a bookstore and we store all kinds of books,“ smiled the face that no longer resembled a ghost, but a person. „I’ve been… waiting here for 15 minutes… at least.“ He tried to sound angry, but the truth was he wasn’t really sure of how much time he actually spent here. Oh my god. A thought just crossed his mind. What if they’re already closed and I didn’t notice and just practically barged in here demanding to be served?!?! He wiped his forehead and opened his mouth to apologize for his intrusion, but before he could say anything, the figure in front of him spoke again. „Gosh, but I didn’t hear or see you at all!“ said the person, covering their red coloured lips with their hand. Typical. „I… tried to…“ Jeno sighed. If they didn’t hear me, I should have made more effort I guess. „I apologize, I’m sorry for the inconvenience I caused you.“ He bowed his head slightly. The person, dressed in a silky black dress that rustled with every step, fixed their dark eyes on Jeno’s apologetic face and shook their head disappointedly. They passed Jeno, who hurriedly backed out of their way, bumping into the red door, oh, I could have sworn the eye was open. huh, weird, and started to rummage through the bookshelves and bookcases, opening drawers and cabinets, dancing around all the clutter with their feet bare, without knocking over a single thing.

„So?“ asked the bookstore owner, combing through a particularly overflowing drawer. „Sorry?“ „Which book are you looking for?“ Jeno resisted the urge to facepalm himself and laughed nervously instead. „Ah, the book…“ Wait, the book? What book? „Umm… the book,“ he frowned. Why is he here again? He finished his schedule, yes, and then got out of the car sooner than the rest, because…? Because I wanted to buy a book? Uhh… I guess? „Um, yeah, I was hoping to get a book about the history of-“ „Hey!“ the character was now standing in the middle of the room, their arms crossed in an irritated manner, the long red painted nails tapping angrily. „Did you eat my chewing gum?“ You IDIOT! And you even left the wrapper and the actual gum right there on the shelf, ugh! „I’m really sorry,“ Jeno started apologizing at the double, „it was just sitting there, I thought-“ „How did it taste?“ asked the owner. „Um…“ Jeno blinked a few times and frowned. „Weird,“ he answered, looking down at his feet, like he was feeling guilty and disappointed at the same time. „I remember really liking this brand and it surprised me that is tasted so… stale,“ he answered truthfully. The woman sighed. „No wonder. It’s a special edition, a collectible. It’s been sitting here for five years. And now it’s ruined.“ She took the whole package in her hands and shook her head, discontented. Who the hell stores a pack of freaking chewing gums? „I guess I should have treated it better, maybe all the exposure made it tasteless and bland.“ She clicked her tongue. „What a shame. But at least the wrapping is still colourful and pretty to look at.“ „Uh… yeah. Sorry about that.“ She put the gums back in place and resumed with the thorough scouring of the area. „What book did you say you wanted?“ Oh, yeah, the book. The damn book again. „Ah, yeah, um… I was interested in the techniques of-“ „How about this one?“ The woman, currently kneeling down by one of the huge bookcases, proposed. Jeno stared at her, eyes wide. She reached under the furniture, scrabbled and felt around a bit, until she triumphantly retrieved a blue hardback tome. Just what is going on in here?

Jeno watched the woman get up again, dust down her knees with a sigh, and then walk back behind the counter. She put the book on the desk and Jeno finally got a good look. The jacket was dusty, creased and torn in a few places. There were no pictures or details, it was just… blue. „Sound…” he read out loud. „Sound?“ Jeno raised an eyebrow. „That’s the title, yes.“ „It looks like a… heavy reading.“ He took the book in his hands to weigh it, it must be at least 500 pages long. „And pretty expensive.“ „It’s a poetry book, if you’re worried about the pages. And you don’t have to pay me for it.“ „Ah, I-… Wait, what? You don’t want me to pay you for it?“ „No, because I am not selling it to you. I’ll only let you borrow it. I‘ve always wanted to read it, because I am curious about the story, but… Do you sometimes get the feeling, be it a book, a movie, a photograph, or even a new pair of shoes, that it’s calling out to you? And when you finally get it, it’s like it’s your missing puzzle piece that you didn’t even know you need and it makes you complete?“ „I… guess, yeah.“ But not really, no. I can’t remember the last time I had this feeling. „Well, turns out, this book doesn’t complete me.“ She packed it in a plain paper bag and sealed it with a decorative tape. „But it might complete you,“ the owner said expectantly, sliding the wrapped book towards Jeno. He touched the paper and for a while, the room drowned in complete silence and time stopped, like a movie that froze and only showed a single frame. A frame with a book wrapped in a plain paper bag in the center, a woman’s hand with red fingernails touching it on the right, a man’s veined hand touching it on the left. Jeno’s hand.

He moved his fingers the tiniest bit and with them, the book. His body was immediately hit with a wave of electricity, the time unfroze and Jeno sighed heavily, leaning against the counter, like he just ran a hurdle race. „Will that be all?“ asked the owner with a kind smile. „I… can’t just take it.“ „You already did.“ She pointed towards the book Jeno was hugging anxiously, like he was afraid someone would steal it from him. He looked down, sighed again and finally stood up straight again. „I can’t take it for free. Even though I’m just borrowing it. How do you know I won’t run off with it?“ „Are you a thief?“ „No, but… I could be!“ „Well, in that case… How about you leave something behind then, like a pledge? I quite like the ring of yours,“ she pointed on Jeno’s hand, which he quickly pulled away. „That’s… it’s not anything fancy, and it’s bent, twisted… it’s worthless.“ „I’ll lend you a thing that’s worthless to me and you’ll lend me a thing that’s worthless to you. That’s a fair deal I’d say.“ She held out her hand. Jeno hesitated. What will the others think when he comes back without his friendship ring? They probably won’t even notice. „Alright…“ he took off the ring and rolled it around for a bit in his hand. Then, with a guilty feeling, he placed it in the owner’s hand, immediately regretting his decision. „Thank you for your purchase, have a nice day and see you whenever!“ he heard the woman say with a smile, pocketing the ring quickly. Then the door behind him shut with a loud bang and he was staying outside, with a book he didn’t know he needed and without a ring he didn’t remember wearing.

#Lee Jeno #Jeno #NCT Jeno #NCT #NCT Dream #NCT fanfic #Jeno fanfic #NCT scenarios #NCT Dream scenarios #my writing

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tundrainafrica · 4 years

Text

Title: No Goodbyes

Summary:

"No goodbyes. We'll make it out of here. They had repeated that same promise in the forest only a few days ago over a slow conversation about how life could have been. They had repeated that same promise for years, after strategy meetings, before many missions and while they explored Marley."

Chapter 132 from Levi's POV.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: For Anyarein from AO3.

Don’t hide your fic rec behind those scratchy line things. I’m happy to receive fic ideas and asks (even if I am a little slow with them...)

Thanks for the suggestions for fics <3 ( thanks for indulging my guilty pleasure of high octane angst under the guise of a character study.)

"We've reached the end game."

If Levi hadn’t been looking at her as she said it, if he hadn’t seen the slight movement of her lips and the slight tremble, maybe he would have never heard it. Maybe that half hearted comment would have been drowned out by the sounds of her tearing bandages or the screaming pain that consumed his battered body.

That comment though was enough to send a chill through Levi and down to the bones. The biting cold felt too unfamiliar. It took him a few seconds longer to comprehend what exactly that feeling was.

Frustration. Possibly fear.

He had always been strong. For as long as he could remember, he was always able to fight whatever threats came his way. At that moment when the threats were much larger than he could have ever imagined, when he wished he were at his strongest, he was at his most vulnerable, a cruel twist of fate.

"It's too late to run away to the forest now." He gave Hange a wry smile keeping his tone and his words light, to at least balance out the sullen demeanor of his commander.

His commander. That’s what she had sounded like. With his words, he hoped she would soften her gaze and her tone. It was just the both of them there after all. He knew her inside and out, even before Erwin ever considered her as the next in line to lead the honorable survey corps.

You don't have to pretend with me. He thought to himself, hoping his intent gaze was enough for her to receive the message.

"Yeah, maybe it is..." Hange said a little more lightly as she unwrapped his bandages, a little more roughly than Levi would have liked. "I guess we’re going to have to wait a little longer huh? Before we open that tea shop..."

“Or the herb garden by a cabin.” Levi added. The pain of being so roughly handled took a backseat as Levi felt his throat catch at those words and for a few seconds he was left unable to breathe. The pain in his chest overshadowed whatever protests his body had towards Hange's touch.

From where he lay, he couldn't see Hange's hands but he could see her shoulders shake, and he could see the crown of her head as she avoided his gaze. Levi was sure, at that point her walls had completely broken down.

She was shaking, shaking so hard. Possibly on instinct, he reached out his hand a little farther to grab hers, wherever it was. He gripped it hard as soon as he found it. His own hand burned possibly from having had two of his fingers blown off only a few days ago. There were more important things to do than give his hand the respite it so tenaciously demanded of him.

He had a duty to his commander. No, to his comrade, to his best friend. To his other half.

To his other half.

“I knew you wouldn’t run away,” Levi said.

Hange looked up at him as soon as he had said those words. She furrowed her brow, wrinkled her nose and bit her lip, the result of it all being the faux serious face Levi was all too familiar with.

Hange had always been emotional but since becoming commander, she had started crying less and less. Levi had realized over time that it had never been her own constitution which had made that so. Hange had other ways of holding it in. If she furrowed her brows and crumpled her expression when needed, sometimes the tears never did come. And to the younger members of the survey corps, that unique facial expression had always looked like she was in deep thought on a new diplomatic strategy or battle plan.

Levi knew better though. He had seen that coping mechanism develop over nights alone with her.

“I couldn’t find a way to stop Eren…I can't help but think… Maybe...” She started.

Maybe if Erwin were here? She didn’t need to say it. It was in the way she looked to the side, unable to meet Levi’s gaze as if she knew what she was doing was wrong. She had promised him long before she wouldn’t compare herself to him nor would she compare their current circumstances to that utopian one she had imagined building if Erwin were still there.

Levi quickly hushed her. It was a quiet movement but it was enough to leave his chest burning. He held in a cough, not wanting to aggravate her any further.

“No regrets...” Levi said, as soon as the pain in his chest dissipated enough to allow himself a few words. His throat itched at having to hold in that cough of a while ago. “I told you before.”

“I’m not regretting anything Levi. I promised you I wouldn’t so I won’t.” Hange buried her face in her hands. “But I need to atone.”

Atone. He never believed it to be the right word. Hange had done her best. She sacrificed sleep, meals, rest, mental health days and consequently her own sanity just so things could work out.

In the end, the world had turned out to be much larger and more complex than they could have ever imagined. Hange --- hell, both of them--- the one dubbed humanity’s strongest and possibly the one dubbed humanity’s most intelligent, were left with circumstances that spelled the difference between life and death for millions, circumstances too out of their control.

And you think it’s your fault? He had seen that same flash of guilt show up during the most inopportune times, easily mistaken for a bout of exhaustion on her end and when it was just the two of them, he saw it in the way she would dip her head back up and stare at the empty ceiling, mentioning what Erwin or Moblit would have possibly said or done as nothing more than a passing thought.

But Levi couldn’t tell her off. He couldn’t tell her he hated the word so much that every time she said it, he was forced to bite his lip to keep from saying something he might just regret. Deep within him too, he felt the obligation to atone. He and Hange were the ones after all who had protected and trained Eren.

In the end it had been Eren’s choice to do what he did. Regardless, the nagging thought remained in both of their minds, was there anything they could have done for things to end up different?

No regrets. They had both agreed so many years ago.

“Atone…” The word tasted bitter to Levi but he had to recognize that both of them felt the need too strongly. “Atone after the war… You’ll have time then.” Levi’s hands continued to burn as he lightly pulled at Hange’s hand, an effort to see the face behind it. “We promised right? No goodbyes.”

No Goodbyes

Ever since I joined the survey corps I've had to say nothing but goodbyes.

Levi should have sensed it when Hange had given that speech to Mikasa. Those words dug much deeper than a sermon from a veteran intended to keep Mikasa from killing him or Floch.

Somehow, he only noticed it almost a year later, the first night Hange broke down in front of him after a long meeting with diplomats discussing plans for building ports and adopting technology. During the meeting she was a commander. When everyone had left to retire to their rooms for the night, Hänge had sunk into her chair, so low Levi had feared she would sink so low into the chair she might just disappear.

I can't do this. Moblit would have known how to handle the paperwork. Erwin would have known how to get their confidence. I don't have that charisma.

Did anyone notice I was shaking? Did anyone notice I was just making things up as we went along?

Hange had done great. Yet somehow, her concession of something so unnoticeable scared Levi. That Hange who stood in front of the diplomats explaining her plans for Paradis looked too certain. As her friend and comrade, he started to wonder how much pressure she had put on herself, how much she had to butcher her on psyche to pull off such a facade so convincingly.

Just hold on long enough until the war is over. Until we can fix things with Marley.

No regrets. Levi had given that speech too many times. He was the master at imbibing it and more than anything, at that moment as he held her close and took the force of racking yet muffled sobs, he prayed she felt it too. He prayed that somehow she would imbibe it.

Until we make it out of this. Levi had said. No, we're making it out of this.

It had started with a vow not to regret. As Hange held on to him that night, pulling him closer to herself, as she gripped his shoulders so hard, his own back shook with her racking sobs. Out of what could have been desperation, Levi found himself making another promise with her.

Ever since I joined the survey corps I've had to say nothing but goodbyes. She had repeated to him back then. It had been a year since he had heard that phrase. But ever since they got back from Shiganshina, it had been meeting after meeting, mission after mission, development after development.

She had to break eventually. Of course, it would have been in front of him, the only person who probably felt the gravity of that loss so profoundly, every single loss, from their own squads to their commander. They were the only two people in the squad who were left with little to no time to pick up the pieces, having been launched quickly into seats of both responsibility and power as Paradis rapidly changed.

Levi had his own skeletons and his own emotional baggage to carry. As he watched her breakdown unfold in front of him, his heart could only clench up. He had run out of tears too long ago. His body though, that was starting to scramble for some outlet of emotion, handled it differently.

He clung on to Hange as she cried, letting the shaking motion of her body overshadow his own. No more goodbyes. I’ll be here for a long time. Levi had said.

The next morning, he had regretted those words. No one knows what will happen next. You can trust people all you want but nobody can really predict what will happen next. How many times had that lesson bit him the ass? How many times had he trusted someone only for them to be taken away from him?

It had ended a mutual promise between the two. A promise that had seemed reassuring enough for Hange to have settled in his arms that night. To placate that conflict inside him surrounding the impulsiveness of that decision, Levi only had to remember the way her body had gradually relented to the calmer and slower rhythm of his own breathing.

Levi was never the type to go back on a promise, especially on a promise made to one of the most important people to him, maybe even the most important person to him then, having lost everyone else. He was determined not to break it.

Despite all they had seen, despite their long history as soldiers, Levi and Hange had been too naive. As the situation became more and more dire, Levi would sometimes allow a few seconds a day to scold himself for even entertaining that naivete, particularly in those moments where it was just the both of them stuck in the office, late at night trying to avoid any words that could even allude to goodbyes or regrets

They made that promise in a different world. At that time when they had talked about it, they saw glimmers of hope in the rapidly progressing technology, in their world which was slowly getting larger with every late night meeting, every successful experiment.

At present, Levi was experiencing the world in a body who could barely even move. He was seeing through one eye, the other lost in the explosion. He was on a bed, prone and vulnerable and just outside the ship, he could hear the distant sounds of the rumbling destroy everything in its path and with it, any ambitions for a peaceful compromise.

Hange was the one who had spearheaded the plans for diplomacy, who had clung on most desperately to the hope that the war could all end in peace. She was still healthy and functioning. She was still fit to fight. Yet ironically, her movements had devolved into something mechanical as she cut bandage after bandage and wrapped it around his head. The view of herself she had allowed Levi to see was limited. Even during those few moments where he did get a good look at her, Levi had to risk a bout of dizziness or a headache to bend his head back to see her face. Even under the dim light, he could see they were red rimmed. Red rimmed but lifeless.

We can still make it out of this. No goodbyes. Those were the only words his mind could come up with then that could have maybe brought life back into those hazel eyes. Last time, it had worked. But back then, there weren’t colossal titans trampling the world. Back then, there were still so many other possibilities to consider.

“The bleeding has slowed for most of your injuries. I took out some of the bandages and loosened some of them so it’s more comfortable for you.” Hange said as if she were rattling out of a grocery list.

No. Long ago, Hange probably would have sounded more enthusiastic rattling out a grocery list. The person in front of him didn’t seem like Hange anymore.

“There’s a plane on a nearby port we can take to Eren according to Kiyomi. Hange continued. “We’ll be fuelling the plane and…”

“We?” Levi asked. ‘We’ could have also meant Hange, Levi and everyone else. ‘We’ could have meant Hange and everyone else without him. Somehow, he could tell by the face Hange had given him and the tone of her voice, a tone of defeat and acceptance of their grim reality that she had meant the latter.

“I saw the bruises Levi, you might even be suffering from internal bleeding. Until we can get you to a doctor…. Please stay back here on the ship…” Please don’t fight.

Levi did not have the time to argue. He had spent a second too long thinking of the right words to say as he processed Hange’s incomprehensible actions.

She was ready to die. By the time he had stumbled upon an explanation for her actions, her expressions and gestures that quickly vacillated between empathy and apathy, it had already been too late.

No Goodbyes right? He had wanted to say. Those words never left his mouth though. On their way out, he had felt arms crush him so hard, only a hushed breath was able to make its way out of his mouth.

She wasn’t crushing him. In fact, she had only been holding him a little harder. The force though was more than enough to send a crushing pain coursing through his already battered bones. The pain was stinging on the surface but at the same time piercing deep within him. It coursed through him so quickly and so violently, Levi had to bite his lip to keep from letting out a sound.

For god knows, if she knew how painful it was she might just let go.

No goodbyes. We'll make it out of here. They had repeated that same promise in the forest only a few days ago over a slow conversation about how life could have been. They had repeated that same promise for years, after strategy meetings, before many missions and while they explored Marley.

What if diplomacy did work? What if the threats of rumbling where enough to make Marley reconsider the treatment of Eldians? What if this could all end without any bloodshed?

What if maybe there was still some sliver of hope to cling to? No goodbyes. Levi only repeated that same line to himself again and again. Although she had let go for a bit, giving enough space for Levi to breathe, the knot in his throat that extended all the way down to his stomach had taken over suffocating him.

No goodbyes right? He started to scream those words in his head, still unable to say them aloud. That shouldn’t have mattered though. She usually knew what he was thinking. If he thought it loudly enough, it should reach her like it always did.

He screamed in his mind, clinging to hope that the message would reach her. His body knew otherwise. All he could do was wait and listen for what Hange had to say next.

Thank you. Hange’s last words to him weren’t words of farewell. Just like they had promised each other long ago. No goodbyes.

Hange left him alone in the plain room with only one dim light on. Levi was left with nothing much to do but stare at his plain surroundings, the only stimuli worth considering being the final words she had said to him.

Thank you for always being there. Thank you for staying with me after meetings. Thank you for letting me bounce ideas with you. Thank you for the late night conversations.

Thank you. Hange was not one for phatic expressions. At least when she was with him. Had she ever said thank you? She was his own commander, there was no need to. When they were alone, there were too many other things to discuss. Padding their heart to heart conversations with pleasantries had never seemed necessary.

She had kept her promise but as Levi lay in bed and stared at the blank ceiling, recalling the exchange of only a few minutes ago, he couldn’t help but think, he would have preferred a goodbye.

No Goodbyes

Levi valued promises. He kept the promise he had made to Hange close to his heart and he felt all the more determined to make sure she kept it too.

Maybe that was what had pushed him to stand up even as his joints ached, his bones screamed and his head spun. That determination inside him only pulled him out of the bed more violently, drilling into him the possibility that maybe not doing anything could be more painful.

And it worked. When Levi was in bed, his body felt this impulse to shake his broken bones awake, to punish them for wanting to pull him back from the war. Hange couldn’t keep that promise alone, she needed his help. Omission seemed like the more evil option.

That was how Levi had found himself, walking painfully towards the voices in the other room. That was how he had found himself refusing Armin’s help, forcing his body through a crash course on relearning how to walk and sooner than later, to fight.

Fuck it. Even his body couldn’t relearn to walk and fight so quickly, he’d force it too. He had more than enough memories and experience fighting, it would be a matter of discipline more than anything else.

That was what had him testing his ODM gear with the fingers he had left. Two fingers is all I need.

Hange had kept quiet since then, not bringing up the conversation of a while ago. He could see in the glances that she snuck him while she faced the alliance as a commander that she wished he were elsewhere.

That’s a first. Levi had to note. Before, she would seek comfort in the many moments they did exchange glances. Then, she looked uncomfortable.

It could have been his injuries. It could have also been those last words she said.

She kept her promise. Yet she was starting to avoid his gaze as she reminisced of old friends, in ways that only reminded Levi of another loss they had felt long ago.

With the rumbling nearing, with the appearance of Floch and with the breaking of the fuel tank, they could not allow themselves a few more minutes to ponder that promise in silence.

Levi wasn’t there when Hange had made that decision. By the time, he was near enough to make eye contact, to get a near enough look of her expression a mixture of fear, guilt and acceptance. It was too late.

Just let me go. Will you?

We promised. No goodbyes. No regrets. Levi looked towards the ground as he thought about it. He had tried to send her that silent reminder too many times that day already. Back then, he had hoped it would reach her.

As he heard the rumbling only get nearer, he started to realize there were things much larger and more permanent than superficial and temporal promises.

A part of him could only interpret the promise they made as having been broken. For a while he wanted to say goodbye out of spite.

Levi was never the type of person to break a promise though.

“Dedicate your heart.”

I don’t regret anything but I feel like I still need to atone for it. Hange had said it so many times before during the many times they had briefly mentioned it and the few times they had analyzed it. Hange had always planned on atoning somehow, for all that chaos she had believed herself to have been to unfit to stop.

As if it wasn’t anybody else’s mistakes and selfishness that had brought upon that chain of events.

Levi allowed himself to gradually shift his thoughts elsewhere as he boarded the plane. HIs broken bones were still screaming for attention. His bruises were still sending jolts up his spine with every movement. His fingers were throbbing at the weight of the ODM gear.

Any pain, any sensation and any experience could have been more palatable, could have been more bearable than what he had felt as he pressed his hand into her heart. He couldn’t think about her anymore or he risked collapsing right there.

There was one final passing thought Levi allowed himself though as he had settled onto his seat in the plane. It was the last thought about Hange he would allow himself before he turned off all his emotions, shifting his thoughts to the larger problem at hand.

You can’t ever atone without feeling regret. Levi couldn’t help but think, despite the bond they shared that had made feelings between them flow so smoothly in ways words never did, there may have been some fatal misunderstanding between them about what those two promises meant.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #fanfic

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theaspers · 4 years

Text

you feel like home | satan x reader

a/n: i’m too lazy to finish this but i got lazy towards the end so here, you can have it. college au so everyone’s human here but u will find i rarely ever write satan’s name and that’s only bc it’s so weird to write it and think about how in this au a set of parents thought naming their child satan is ok lol. this will be the only time u see me use a post divider bc it’s that messy.

here is how it usually is:

satan wakes up with a start. his breathing is heavy, every gasp sounding terribly like it might be his last, and his eyes are wild. this isn’t fear because he is not afraid. he is never afraid. rather, it is anger. anger at himself, at his brothers, at anyone and everyone who has ever wronged him before. fiery red and burnt orange, anger in all possible forms and shapes and sizes, rolling off of him in waves.

there is not many places in which he finds respite from the barrage of emotions he constantly feels. but when you wake up, bleary-eyed and groggy, and say nothing, waiting with the utmost patience for him to return. when you wrap an arm around his shoulders, careful and cautious. when you tug him down and hum a little tune under your breath that lulls him back to sleep. it’s as close to one as he’ll ever get, he thinks.

for a fleeting second, he thinks about telling you of his feelings. vomit it all out so he doesn’t have to sit any longer with the uncomfortable feelings that’s been bubbling at the pit of his stomach for far too long. but your fingers are too gentle as they press against his still-pounding heart, and your eyes are too tender as they meet his own. there’s an unusually bright beam of moonlight spilling across your features from the gap between the curtains and it makes you look as dazzling as ever. it wouldn’t be right to ruin such a beautiful moment, he thinks, to ruin such a beautiful person with all of whatever he is. so he doesn’t.

repeat and recycle.

you are kind. with him, you’ve managed to practice this weird balance of confident indifference and empathy that just works for him. it’s never been like that before. not when he’d lost his parents but had felt relieved instead of the expected grief. not when his sister had died and had taken along with her a good portion of everyone’s soul. not when he’d finally just upped and left because the tension in the house was getting too much for him to bear.

he has no parents, he told you once, a long time ago. a green haze of disgust had curled around him and eyes steaming, rolling and boiling. the grip he had on the stack of papers he’d been flicking through caused ripples across the filled pages. you know this fact, clever enough to have gathered as much from how much he soured whenever parents were mentioned, but he had never outright admitted it.

“you’re ruining my notes,” you’d said to him instead of the pity he is all too familiar with. there had been a deep furrow between your eyebrows, displeasure in your frown, “i worked extremely hard on that.”

it had been relief, looking back now, that had filled him up to the brim. his heart had felt full, but not in the bad way - always in the good way with you - and he’d felt unburdened for once. he looked at you then, eyebrows raised. where he thought there would be anger, there was only amusement. he’d only known you for a handful of months but somehow he’d expected as much from you. and it’s comfortable.

“the world’s full of awful, terrible people who shouldn’t be parents,” you’d pointed at him with an opened highlighter pen, waving the neon tip in his direction, “doesn’t mean you’re awful or terrible too.”

huh.

“and it certainly doesn’t mean i want to spend my whole afternoon talking about them,” your frown turned into a scowl as you reached over the tabletop filled with textbooks and worn notebooks and loose papers, “give those here if you’re not gonna treat them right.”

light laughter spilled out of his lips as he pulled the notes away. you were kind. too kind. looking back, that must have been the start of it all.

you’re curled up in a hoodie, crumpled up on the sofa in a way he’s sure is not good at all for your posture but he’s long given up trying to chastise you over it. face smooshed against the arm of the chair, a textbook draped open over your chest in a way that makes him wince, you looked positively ridiculous. ignoring the pang of fondness, he nudges you with his knee.

“come on,” he says, closing the textbook and putting it aside, “let’s get you to bed.”

you groan but are otherwise easily coaxed into bed, curling into his side as he lead you to your room. the fondness magnifies immensely. that you’d spent the better half of yesterday revisiting old topics and making notes which is why you’re so tired right now is somehow endearing to him. he brushes his lips against your forehead as he watches you settle into bed. if he spends a bit more time lingering at the door, no one would know.

he doesn’t want to say it’s because of you but you did play a big part in it. he talks more to his brothers now and it’s, well, good. it’s the distance and the fresh air too, maybe.

he doesn’t have parents but he does have 6 brothers, he’d admitted one quiet night. the two of you had been lying on your backs, the clear night sky spread out over your figures, gorgeous swirls of different shades of blacks and dark blues with specks of bright diamond jewels. 6 brothers and a sister who had passed and had taken a piece of all of them with her.

“oh.” you’d said but you already knew about his brothers because he’d told you. not so much in stories, of course, but through bits and pieces he’d mentioned here and there. beel likes that snack, he would tell you and so you’d tell him to send some to him. asmo’s been talking to him about a brand new make up collection that’ll be released soon and so you’d tell him that you’ll keep an eye out. but the thing about his sister - that’s new.

the hurt is still there even though it’s been a long time now. raw pain as if his chest is dangerously exposed and someone’s gone ahead and ripped his still-beating heart out of him. he has yet to find that heart, it seems. it still hurts but ever since he’d left, he’s been able to breathe a bit better. see past the green and grey cloud that hovered over him and his brothers when he’d been at home.

“that one’s orion,” you’d murmured, and he knows it’s just you trying to digest his words, trying to figure out a good response, “people use that one to find other stars too, did you know that?”

he did, in fact. but still, he’d watched, quiet as you pointed out a few others. your eyes are wonder-filled, the twinkle brighter than anything else in the sky, and it had left him breathless. the tightness around his throat had loosened. southeastward and there is sirius, you’d said, in awe and in love. from rigel to betelgeuse, there is gemini - the stars castor and pollux.

“it must be stuffy to be immortalised like that, huh?” you’d turned him then, meeting his eyes, smile gentle, “always expected to be same. unchanging. must be suffocating.”

a stray chuckle leaves him, weak.

“just let it happen,” you told him afterwards and he’d wanted to laugh even more because it shouldn’t be that easy to absolve him of everything he’s been feeling but it had been. “all i’m saying is that you don’t need to feel guilty anymore.”

“talk to them,” you suggested, no hesitation, letting him lean against you, “they lost a sister too, you know?”

there’s a lecture that he has to attend in about an hour but you’re still snoring away on your side of his bed and it’s so tempting to join you in sweet slumber. you don’t have classes until later on so you’re good but he’ll be late if he dallies for any longer.

but he can’t seem to pull himself away from you. so he takes this in, the absolute mess in the morning. listens to your steady breathing. savours the moment and keeps it close. a beautiful solace that he’ll allow himself for when he needs the reprieve.

“ha,” there’s a smug curl to your lips, eyelids fluttering open as if knowing that he’d been starting, “nerd. go to class.”

he rolls his eyes. he could always count on you to ruin a tender moment.

“you should get one for lucifer,” the words barely leave your mouth before you’re laughing, from a tiny little snicker to full blown laughter, “for- for cerberus.”

the hand that’s holding out your phone for him to see the page full of ugly little suit for dogs shakes wildly. he scowls at the mention of his eldest brother and you laugh even more, setting down your utensils in favour of rubbing the tears that have sprung up in the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard.

“are you going back for the break?” you ask once you’ve calmed down, reaching over to pull his plate of pie closer to yourself. you pick up your fork once more, digging into the soft pastry.

he curls his nose at the prospect of going back home, “unfortunately.”

“unfortunately,” you parrot playfully, rolling your eyes. “yeah, okay.”

“it’s been a long time coming anyways,” you grin around the mouthful of pie, “they miss you, i think. and don’t tell me you don’t miss them too.”

he sighs, shakes his head as he tugs his plate back over to his side. he knew he shouldn’t have given asmo your phone number. he would never attest to the happiness that blooms in chest. no one would be able to prove it, anyways.

here’s how it is now:

he reels you into a hug as he’s about to leave for back home. he feels as light as a feather, and he has to admit, he’s a bit...excited. when the two of you break apart, he says thank you and gives you an earnest smile. he has to suppress his laughter when feels the way you shudder in his arms.

something’s changing. and change is, well, good. in most cases. and this is one of those cases. it’s good. he’s not afraid, he tells you, he’s never afraid. there is no fear. no anger. just adoration and fondness. for you.

and so he decides in that moment - when he gets back, he’ll let you know.

#and then he never comes back lolol im jk...or am i?#obey me #obey me swd #obey me x reader #obey me imagines #obey me satan

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crashdevlin · 4 years

Text

Succubus 1- Caught

Succubus Masterlist

Author’s Note: Posted to Ao3 (this is an edited and improved version) and was once posted here when I was a much smaller blog…and I got some shit for the content. So heed the warnings!

Summary: When Y/n goes looking for something in Stark Tower, she finds more than she bargained for.

Pairing(s): Tony Stark x Reader, Clint Barton x Reader

Word count: 4556

Story Warnings: 18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, unprotected sex, cheating, sex-pollen-esque powers, mutant reader, noncon, forced cheating, oral (fem rec), mentions of noncon of an underage girl by men in power (teachers, policemen, doctors, priests)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walk past the line and straight up to the bouncer, who takes one look at your tiny tight-fitting dress and stripper-high platform heels and lets you in without a word. You don't even have to use your mutant ability on him. Oh, this night is going to be cake. You snake your way through the gyrating bodies on the dance floor, careful to not use your power on any of the people in the crowd. The passion and lust rolling off of them as they bump and grind against each other is delicious but you don't have time to stop for a snack. You're on a mission and you're here for a meal.

You walk up to the VIP room and smile at the tall, broad-chested man standing at the doorway. He stops you, putting a hand on your bare shoulder. Mistake. "Sorry, ma'am. Mr. Stark requested...privacy." He trails off a bit at the end as your power starts its work on him and his eyes dilate more than the dark of the club requires.

"Oh, I know he's a busy man, but...I'm such a huge fan. The man saved the whole city. He's my hero." You place your hand over his and lean over next to his ear as the bodyguard's breathing grows heavy. "I just really want to show my appreciation."

His fingers fumble with the velvet rope as he lets you into the VIP room, where Tony Stark sits, alone. "Hey, Hap, who's this?" he asks, setting his glass of whiskey on the glass table in front of him.

"I, uh, didn't catch her name." You smile at the man and he flushes deep red before leaving to man the door again.

You sit down next to the billionaire and stare up at him with admiration. "Mr. Stark. I'm a huge fan. My name's Aphrodite." You offer your hand and he takes it. His eyes dilate immediately and he takes a deep breath. His desire is immediate, strong and delicious. You are gonna eat well tonight.

The hand that shook yours moves to your bare knee. He's doing your work for you. "'Aphrodite, huh?"

His desire grows as the skin contact stretches out, the seconds ticking by. "Yeah, my parents were huge Greek mythology nerds," you lie. It's a code name: self-imposed but ever so fitting.

His hand slips up to your thigh. "Well, it suits you; 'cause you are the sexiest thing I've ever seen, and I work with a woman who uses sex as a weapon."

You take a steadying breath. Damn, his passion is potent. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"Call me 'Tony'. Seriously, though, this dress leaves nothing to the imagination and I can't stop imagining it in a puddle on my floor." His hand reaches the hem of the dress and his fingers push under the tight silver material, pushing it up to your hip as his hand finds what it is searching for.

You moan and swallow thickly as his fingers trace your lips through your lace thong panties. "I heard you were a forward man, Tony, but I never imagined..." You moan as he moves the lace barrier aside and sinks his middle finger into you, down to the knuckle. It's over. Nothing can stop it, now. He begins fucking you with his expert fingers, using the heel of his palm to rub against your clit. It's always nice when they know what they're doing and goddamn if Tony Stark isn't a damn pro. You reach over and rub his erection through his designer jeans, your fingers tracing his hardness through the thick denim. Oh, this is going to be a treat. No wonder the man's so damn cocky.

"You ever been fucked by a billionaire?" he whispers in your ear, before leaning down to lick at your neck.

"I get the feeling I'm about to," you whisper through your moans as he adds a second finger and picks up the speed.

"Yeah, we're gonna mark that off your bucket list," he grunts, going to undo his pants. You put your hand on his to stop him.

"Not here. I wanna see the top of the city. Take me to the Tower?" you beg, breathlessly.

He growled, low in his chest. "I've always wanted to fuck someone on the balcony. Pepper has never gone for it. You game, Goddess?"

"Oh, hell yeah." You bite your lip as he pulls his hand away.

"Let's go. Hap, grab the car!" he shouts, pulling you up and giving you a minute to fix your dress before pulling you out of the VIP. The look on Happy Hogan's face, when Tony opens the car door and pushes you in before taking the wheel from the bodyguard and speeding away from him, is pure judgement. His desire has worn thin and now, he's judging Tony for acting on it. He must be friends with Ms. Potts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony has your dress and thong bunched at your feet before you've even stepped off the elevator. You step gracefully out of the shimmery and lacey materials and he guides you backward, his mouth attached to your neck. You should've been a dancer; the way you move backwards and in high heels. You grab Tony's jacket and push it down his arms. He drops it somewhere between the elevator and the wet bar. "Are we alone?" you ask, trying to look around but finding it difficult with Tony's persistent pushing and grabbing at you.

He grunts. "Avengers hiatus. Pepper's in Malibu. Just us."

You smile. "Perfect." You break away from him and grab at the waistband of his jeans, popping the button and pulling them and his red silk boxers down as he kicks his shoes off. He pulls his shirt over his head and steps out of his pants as you bend down in front of him. You grasp him at the base of his cock, your fingers nestling nicely in his well-groomed pubes, and guide him into your mouth. His hands grasp at your hair as you begin to bob your head up and down his length, your tongue swirling around the head and flicking at the frenulum. He pulls you up by your hair and shoves his tongue in your mouth, smashing his lips into yours.

"I have to have you. Now." He pushes you toward the balcony and you stumble a little on your heels before following him out onto the biggest balcony you've ever seen. He pushes you onto a chaise and is almost immediately between your legs, sucking your clit into his mouth and licking at it harshly. His beard rubs against your sensitive lips and adds something wonderful to the feeling.

"Fuck," you moan, one hand grabbing the armrest of the chaise and the other going into his hair.

"Yes." His desire is at its peak when he responds, pulling away and climbing up your body. There's no fanfare, no hesitation, as he spreads your legs further and enters you to the hilt with one thrust. You grab onto him as he starts to pound into you. He feels amazing, he tastes amazing, his desire almost more fulfilling than his dick. He pushes your knees up into your chest, never breaking his stride as he grabs each of your breasts and shifts his weight. You scream out as his new angle hits your g-spot with each swing of his hips. "Feel like a goddess, too. So...fuckin'...fuck," he grunts out.

He cums hard, breathing heavily. You can feel his dick twitch inside of you as he spills himself onto your inner walls. His hand goes to his head and he clenches his eyes in pain and then he passes out, slumping on top of you, soft dick still inside of you. You sigh and push him off of you. He crumples unceremoniously to the ground beside the chaise as you stretch your neck and shoulders. You look down at him. You were hoping he'd get you off before he went, but that was rare. It takes a special kind of man to hold himself back against your pheromones long enough to give you an orgasm and no Homo Sapien has managed it. Oh, well, his desire had been yummy.

You stand and walk inside, getting in the elevator and redressing yourself. You hum amelodically as you tap the button for the laboratory and the elevator doors close. You step off the elevator and dance around the lab until you come to a computer. You pull the earring off of your right ear and pull the cap off of a concealed USB drive. You plug it into the computer and no more than ten seconds pass before everything goes dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up in a sitting position, your head hanging. You can tell that you are restrained to a chair. You don't open your eyes, allowing yourself to gain as much information from your other senses before you let on that you're awake.

"I don't know, Barton. She said her name was 'Aphrodite', but if that's a codename, it's not in any of the databases that I have access to, which is all of them." Tony's voice is coming from your left. 'Barton', that's gotta be Clint Barton. Hawkeye.

"She doesn't look familiar...or particularly hot. Not hot enough to fuck around on Pepper, I mean."

"She hit me with some kind of whammy. I said this." Tony's voice is annoyed. Aww, poor billionaire philanthropist is feeling guilty.

"Well, what is she? Cat burglar, super spy?"

"I don't know. She fucked me up, then went up to the lab, but JARVIS saw her and sent a legionnaire to knock her out."

You can't help the giggle that escapes you as your eyes open. You're sitting in the middle of a small room, zip-tied to a chair, in front of Tony Stark (wearing his repulsor gloves but none of his other Iron Man accouterments) and Clint Barton, wearing civvies with a bow slung over his shoulder. Clint shakes his head in confusion. "You get caught red-handed stealing information from the Avengers and you giggle?"

You smile. "I'm sorry. Is that not the proper response to being caught? It's never happened to me before."

"What are you?" Tony asks as Clint asks, "Who are you?"

You just smile up at them. They'll know in a few minutes. Tony scoffs. "That's fine. I got a sample of your blood while you were out. I'll know both of those answers once the results run."

"I've never been caught before. You think my DNA is gonna be on file somewhere? Especially if my name's not written down anywhere."

"Master Stark, her temperature has risen by 7.4 degrees Fahrenheit in the last two minutes," a disembodied voice with a proper accent says.

"That must be the infamous JARVIS. Forgot about you." You look up at the ceiling.

"What are you doing with a temp of a hundred and six?" Tony asks, tapping at his tablet.

"You'll see. In three. Two. One. Boom," you say. Tony and Clint sway suddenly, their heads swimming from your pheromone attack. Tony goes down, passing out from the overload, but Clint stays standing. He looks at you with a beautiful mix of lust and anger, because he knows but he can't get past the way you've made him feel. "How are you still standing?" you ask, staring up at him.

"Top physical conditioning," he answers, groaning.

"Oh," you breathe the word, enamored. "That's never happened before."

He growls. He pulls his bow off of his back and tries to draw it, an arrow somehow nocked on the string when you never saw his hand go near the quiver. His fingers fumble for a minute, but he eventually pulls the bow taut. "If I kill you, does it stop?" he growls again and it's sexy despite the loaded weapon in your face.

"I don't know. I've never been killed before," you answer, simply. His desire is spiking, he smells amazing, a normal man would be panting with that level of desire, but...Clint Barton takes deep, measured, breaths.

"If I fuck you, does it-"

"Yes," you answer, quickly. You aren't hungry, but...damn, he looks gourmet.

He quickly shifts his aim, letting the arrow loose toward the metal ceiling tile above your head, where it ricochets, cutting the wire restraining you. You don't have time to rub your sore wrists before he's grabbed you and pulled you out of the chair. He kisses you, but it isn't teeth and tongue like Tony's kiss. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and nibbles on it, lightly. His hands grasp at your dress, slowly bringing it up. How is he going so slow?

"Master Barton, I have dispatched an Iron legionnaire to assist you," the AI butts in.

"Fuck!"

"Sorry, Bird-Boy. That's my cue," you whisper, pulling back and punching him. He doesn't go down, so you quickly grab the chair and bash him with the metal back. He crumbles next to Tony and you pull your dress back down as exit the room and run for the elevator.

***********

"So, you failed."

"No, sir. I don't fail. I just haven't succeeded yet. I'll get it. I just didn't count on the AI being so autonomous. I'll get it," you repeat, standing in front of a desk.

"I sent you because you have never failed me before, but if you can't get me those files, I will change tactics, Y/n."

"Erik, please. Don't write me off. I can do this. I just need a few days to recharge and rework the plan."

"You have one week, Y/n. If you haven't succeeded by then, I will send in Mystique." Magneto waves you away from his desk and you exit his office. You flop down on a couch in the sitting room as you pull long gloves up your arms.

"So, you struck out," the blue-skinned beauty teases as she sits next to you.

"Shut up, Raven," you groan.

"Aww. Don't get all upset. How was the Iron Man?"

"He was fine...for a human. It was that damn JARVIS program that got me." You sigh deeply, leaning your head against the back of the couch. "Who knew an AI could recognize a thief and send a robot to knock me out?"

"Damn. You got into the Tower and everything?"

"I got into the lab. I was so close. Now, I have to figure out how to get in there again. Can't go the normal route."

"Why don't you just release your little pheromones into the Tower, let them all play with you until the headache kicks in, then hold Stark off until he turns off the damn computer system?"

"It may work, may not. I might not even be able to make it near any of them. I don't even know. Either way, I have to take a day or two. I almost completely blew my load getting out of that building."

"Poor baby."

"Yeah, fuck you, Gonzo." You stand, pushing past the blue woman to head to your room. It was hard to think about the fact that Erik dismissed you so callously. It was almost like he only wanted you around when you were fucking men for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You climb up several sets of fire escapes to the roof of a building in Bedford-Stuyvesant, New York, New York. Clint Barton stands on the opposite side of the roof, a beer in his hand as he stares out across the city lights. "You know, usually when I hit a guy with my power, he can't stop thinking about me." Clint turns to you, dropping his beer on the ledge and putting his fists up in a fighting stance. You put your gloved hands up in a nonthreatening manner. "Oh, whoa. I'm suited up. I couldn't affect you from here if I wanted to."

He drags his eyes over you. The only skin he can see is what's visible around the mask over your mouth. Everything else is covered in a purple, pink and black suit. Your hair is pulled back in a tight bun. "Okay, well...keep your distance still."

"Understandable," you respond, smiling under your mask. "I just wanted to apologize. I was just following orders. You understand that whole following orders thing, right?"

"Stark said you're a Mutant. You aren't an X-man, are you? 'Cause that'd be awkward at the next Hero Convention."

You scoff. "No. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't one of the lucky ones who was saved from the street by Saint Charles. My savior was a man of a different faith."

"So, you're Brotherhood; one of Magneto's." He doesn't ask. He knows exactly who you're referencing.

"Erik saved my life. If he hadn't found me, I'd've died homeless in Miami. He took me in, nourished and nurtured me; taught me about myself. I owe him everything."

"How'd you end up homeless?" He's relaxed a bit, taking a drink of the beer as he leans up against the ledge.

You hop up to sit on the ledge on the other side of the roof. "Imagine you're a thirteen year old girl, a virgin, and you wake up one morning and suddenly, every man who touches you thinks you are the sexiest and most desirable woman they've ever seen. Including three teachers at your middle school..." You put up three fingers. "... the doctor who was supposed to be treating you and gathering evidence of that first gang rape and two cops who came to investigate the occurrences." You flash three more fingers, then clear your throat. "Imagine your parents are hardcore Catholics who decide you have a demon in you that's causing the attacks so they send you to the priest who performed your confirmation who employs the help of three other parish priests. When they wake up and realize what they've done, two of them commit suicide right in the church." You shake your head. "I ran after that. My parents never looked for me. In fact, I heard they...held a funeral for me, buried an empty box."

Clint's eyes are searching you, trying to not show you pity but also making certain you're telling the truth. "I lived on the streets for a year and a half," you continue. "I kept gloves and long sleeves and jackets on, even in the summer in fuckin' Miami, because I was terrified of being touched. But it's not just my skin. It's in my breath. It wafts off of my hair with the slightest breeze. I learned that in the shelters. I ended up having to stay apart even from the other homeless. I have no idea how Erik found me, but he did. He walked up to me in the back of a back alley in the absolute worst part of Opa Locka and told me to come with him. He told me I was Homo Superior and that he could help me control it, that I could live a real life again. It was a dream come true.

"I owe him everything, Hawkeye. I owe him and that's why I went to the Tower, because the man I adore asked me to. But I can't do it anymore. I've been...forced into...prostitution." You look down at your boots. "Erik sending me to use my ability against Tony, using me to get into that lab and gain access to that computer...I don't even know what I was looking for, but he raped me when he sent me there. I let him force me to do something I didn't want to do, but..."

"So, you're here to...what?"

"Turn myself in," you answer.

"Really?"

"I was raped by Erik, and I...forced...I raped Tony, so I deserve...whatever the Avengers think I deserve."

"Yeah, uh, don't...say that to his face." Clint sets the beer on the ledge again and walks closer to you. "If Stark hears you call it 'rape', he'll blow a gasket. He's calling it a 'forced lapse of judgement'. Look, I can take you in, I will take you in, but I'm gonna have to call in some, uh, female help. Not that I don't trust you but I don't trust you." He pulls out his phone and taps the screen. "Hey, Katie. Uh, Kate. I need an escort. Yeah, not for me, thanks. I need a chick to come take this Mutant to the Tower. 'Cause she's a Mutant and her shit won't affect you. I don't wanna get into it. Will you come Hawkeye it up for me, please? Thank you." He pulls the phone away from his ear and smiles tightly. "Now, I have to call Tony."

You nod. He puts the phone to his ear and looks away from you. "Hey, uh...so that chick you're looking for? I know where she is. Here. In Bed-Stuy. She's turning herself in. Uh, probably because she knew you and JARVIS would zap her on the approach and that my building's only security is me and Lucky? No need, man. Kate's on the way. You don't need to send a Legionnaire. Because I already called Kate. Let her do a thing, Tony. Seriously. Thank you. Kate and I will have Aphrodite to you in thirty minutes or less. Yeah. Or your Mutant's free."

Clint pulls the phone away and looks down at it. "He hung up. I thought it was funny," he mutters before turning to you. "So...what's your name?"

You contemplate for a moment before responding, "Y/n. 'Aphrodite' is my codename."

"Well, duh. You pick that out or did Magneto?"

"I did, but Erik solidified it." Your mind drifts to Erik with his hand in your hair, fucking you from behind and grunting out 'My Aphrodite' with every thrust.

"How's he gonna take you defecting?"

"I'm not defecting."

"You're turning yourself in to the good guys. You obviously recognize Magneto was wrong and-"

"I'm done letting him use me, that doesn't mean Erik's wrong or that I think he's a...bad guy." You shake your head. "I know he's right about you Homo Sapiens. The things you do to my kind-"

"Come on. You Mutants aren't that different than us!"

"Tell that to the government who demanded we register, who built giant murder-bots to eradicate us, who've made certain that our fellow Americans are kept in constant fear of us."

"That's not unique to you Homo Superiors, Y/n. We do that shit to each other, too."

"And it's a blight on history when you do, but not for us. Not for Mutants. It's cheered when you round us up, when a child who doesn't know how to control themselves gets thrown in prison for a display of power they had no hope of stopping. You don't know what it's like to-"

"Should I come back?" a female voice asks as the door to the roof opens.

"No." Clint answers. "Kate, this is Y/n. Let's go."

"So, what's your power?"

"Kate." Clint's voice is almost a warning as the three of you start down the stairs.

"I'm just curious!" the young woman defends. "Is it rude to ask? Is that a Mutant faux pas?"

"I release pheromones that make me pretty much irresistible to men," you answer.

"But if they do sleep with her, they pass out," Clint continues.

"Yeah, that's called Postcoital Cephalalgia. It's from the rush of pheromones and hormones...little bit from the exertion."

"Wait, so you make guys orgasm so hard they pass out?" Kate asks, less like she's confused and more like she's impressed.

You smirk under your mask. "Pretty much."

"That's gotta suck," Clint mutters under his breath a little further up the stairs. "How do you ever finish?"

"I don't usually, Barton. Unless I'm with a well-trained Mutant who knows how to control himself."

"What, you don't affect Mutants the same way?" Kate asks.

"No, I do. I hit the Wolverine once and that was...painful. That one likes it rough. But he's used to overexerting himself and he's got that healing factor so he went the distance."

"Ew, Logan's like a million years old," Clint complains.

"I didn't really have a chance to care about his age. We were in a fight, I had to distract him from Erik and Raven."

"Wow, you are really nonchalant about this, like it's not..." Kate starts as you get to the last set of stairs and she walks through the door at the bottom.

"It's my life, Hawkeyes. I am the Mutant equivalent of a damn succubus. I literally can't be embarrassed about sex. I feed off of it."

"Really?" Clint exclaims.

"Well, yes and no. I mean, I still need food, but...desire charges my batteries. I get sick without sex."

"That's...would it kill you if you didn't..." Kate trails off as you walk out onto the street and she raises her arm to hail a cab.

"Longest I've ever gone without sex since I was thirteen years old was a month and that...I ended up in the hospital. The doctors fixed me right up."

Kate drops her arm and turns to you. "Thirteen?"

You shrug. "What age did you start puberty, Miss Bishop, 'cause that's when Mutants develop their powers?"

"But that's so young."

You chuckle as a cab pulls up. "You're so pure."

"What? No, I'm not!" she squeaks.

The cab ride is full of awkward silence and the driver looking at you in the mirror, confused as to why a purple ninja is in his backseat. When he pulls up to Avengers Tower, you hand him a twenty and get out. You position yourself behind Kate, obscuring his view of her until he pulls away. Clint notices, raising a confused eyebrow. "He was checking her out. His desire was...dark. It didn't taste good," you answer, walking through the rotating door into the lobby.

Tony Stark is upon you before you've made it ten feet into the building. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and the Vision are flanking him. "Wow, she doesn't even look like the same woman," Tony says, maybe just to himself.

"Maybe that's because she's fully clothed," Natasha quips, her lips twisting into a smirk.

"Good job, Barton," Steve says, stepping forward.

"I wouldn't get too close," Tony warns.

"She's kinda...turned off," Clint says, nodding at you. "As long as you don't touch her skin, or like, sniff her hair or something."

"Why would we do that?" Tony snaps.

"What are you going to do to her?" Kate asks.

"Why do you care?" Natasha asks.

"Well, I mean...she's...it's not her fault that she's like this."

"It was her decision to come into my club and mess with me in order to get into my lab," Tony snaps.

You put your hands up. "Don't worry about me, Hawkeye. I made my choices." You drop to your knees and put your hands on your head.

"Vision. Go ahead," Tony demands and the android flies forward, placing a set of cuffs on your wrists.

"Okay, but what are you-" Clint starts.

"We'll talk it out later, Legolas," Tony says as Vision picks you up and heads for the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @sunnyroadtrips @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie

Hero Tags - @atc74 @winchesterxfamilybusiness @holylulusworld

#cassie writes stuff #marvel fanfic #tony stark #clint barton #reader insert #mutant reader #tony stark/reader #clint barton/reader #erik lensherr #erik lensherr/reader

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emptypringlescanister · 4 years

Text

New Perspective: Chapter 1

I told y’all I was gonna post more lol.

Tom Nook x Reader

Slow Burn

Warnings: Spoilers for Animal Crossing: New Horizons

Words: 2.7K

Links: Prologue - Chapter 1 (You are here) - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Chapter 1

Dreams could be thought of as like an escape from reality, right? Well then for you, it must be the complete opposite. Stuck in a never-ending loop of trauma really puts a damper on the whole escape thing.

“We’re here! We’re here!” the cries from the small tanuki children roused you from your slumber with a start. Confused with post awakening haze, you looked around the cabin of the plane you were in to see the kids with their faces pressed to the window. Wiping the drool from your face scratches against your skin as you sit up and stretch. “Wake up!” Tommy nudges you excitedly, shy demeanor shoved aside to make way for enthusiasm. “Come look! It’s our new home.”

You smile, their eagerness bleeding into your own as you look out the window as well. Green stretches out, blending in with the pure blue of the ocean below. Fish jump out of the water, speckles of light flying off and glinting in the air. Your gaze fixates upon a small dock breaching out into the ocean from a sandy beach. “Wow” you mutter under your breath.

The speaker in the cabin crackles to life. “Attention passengers, this is Captain Wilbur of Dodo Airlines speaking. Dodo Tower has just informed us that we are due for touchdown November Oscar Whisker, so sit down and buckle up cause this Dodo is coming in for landing!”

Landing was a bit of a bumpy affair, so once the light for the seat belts turned off, both Timmy and Tommy raced out the doors, eager to leave the cramped interior. Resigning yourself to the fate of being the bag carrier, you turned to get your luggage. You were stopped though, as the aviator-wearing pilot entered the cabin. “No need to do that now! My brother Orville will be taking your luggage to the square in just a bit. No need to stress.” Grabbing your one backpack, you thanked him and exited the plane as well. Passing briefly through the airport lobby, you stepped out into the brightness towards your new home.

Timmy and Tommy were standing on the dock, Timmy chatting eagerly to two others while Tommy took his place slightly behind him. Back to his shy ways, you noted to yourself. Turning your attention to the two new faces, you are greeted with a nice-looking penguin talking with Timmy, and on another part of the deck, ignoring everyone, was a hamster lifting weights. Tommy notices your approach and nudges his brother, who turns, abruptly ending his conversation with the penguin. “You’re here!” He turns to address everyone on the dock, his helpful customer service springing into his voice and presence. “Now, I know you must be incredibly excited to explore your new island home, but I have one small request.”

Tommy steps to stand beside him. His small voice loudening briefly, he addresses you all as well. “Would you please join us for a short orientation in the nearby plaza? Our-“

Their voices join together, “-fearless leader,-“

“-is giving a presentation, so I’d hate for everyone to miss it.” Timmy finishes, clasping his hands together. “We’re heading there right now so feel free to follow us!”

They take off , Timmy in the lead, Tommy’s paw wrapped firmly in his as they run towards the middle of the island. Looking over at the others, you all shrug and follow the children who had disappeared over the hill. Lagging behind the others, you walk more slowly, taking in the views from all around you. Soft green grass tickles your ankles as you walk, a light breeze swaying though the trees. Some of them even bear fruit, you notice. They look like peaches, but this is a new land, so it could be some fruit that just looks like peaches. Twigs litter the ground along with copious amounts of floral weeds. You turn in a small circle, taking everything in. It was so... fresh. So pure. It seemed like a new beginning. A new horizon if you will.

Cresting the hill, you come upon a sandy area, occupied by the two newcomers, Timmy and Tommy, and an older tanuki man. A tanuki in a yellow sweater and aqua jacket. ‘Dear lord,’ you think to yourself. ‘Did he pick out his wardrobe blind?’ Despite his odd clothing choices, you study him a little closer. He has vaguely the same markings as the kids, which leads you to believe that he may be related to them in some way. He had a weighted figure, more of a dad-bod, but his eyes were really the factor that drew you in. Tired blue eyes locked onto yours as you entered the area, and your breath stopped. His gaze seemed to rake you up and down, and you bless your luck for a day that was hot so that you could blame the blush staining your face on the heat.

“Alright is that everyone? Let’s see,” He says, his rich voice speaking out. “Is Flo here?” The penguin raises her flipper and smiles. “and Hamlet?” The hamster pauses in his weightlifting and waves over at him. “Good good. Let’s see,” He gazes at the paper a moment before his gaze lifts to yours. “And you must be _____.” Pointedly ignoring the blush on your face, you wave. “That’s me,” you confirm. He smiles, and oh lord you see the way his eyes crinkle at the corners and your heart thuds against your chest.

“Welcome everyone!” His voice snaps you out of your trance and you force yourself to pay attention. “Welcome to your new island. My name is Tom Nook, and I’m the founder and president of Nook Inc. Yes yes!”

“Today is the first day of your new life on this pristine, lovely island. So, congratulations! And this is a package deal, hm? As such, Nook Inc. staff will always be here to support you and ensure your comfort and safety. But first things first, yes? I’d like each of you to choose a spot of your own. It’s the first step to putting down some real roots! I’d like you to dream big – I do have certain connections in construction and real estate, and…” Timmy and Tommy nudge him at the same time, startling him from his rambling. You giggle as he sheepishly rubs his head.

“Ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s just get started with a simple tent, shall we? Please collect a tent from either Timmy or Tommy and then choose a spot to place it.” He finishes with a smile, stepping back to allow the boys to pass out the tents. They run up to you afterwards, Tommy handing you your tent as Timmy eagerly asks you about the island. After spending a few minutes with them, they wave you off with your tent. Unbeknownst to you, your interaction with the boys are watched by the older tanuki, who smiles at the sight of them acting so happy with you.

You had only been walking for a few minutes through the trees before you came to a small clearing flanked by a river. Sunlight filtered in through the leaves on the tree, casting a glow onto the spot. ‘This is definitely it...’ you think to yourself. Setting up your text requires an extra level of brainpower that currently seems inaccessible to you, and you are soon sitting on the ground fuming at your failed attempt to put together your temporary home. “This sucks!” You groan out, tossing a pole to the side.

My my, it would seem like you’re having a bit of trouble!” An undignified squeal leaves you as you’re started by a voice from behind you. Scrambling up and turning, you see Tom Nook standing there, hands in his jacket pockets as he observes your failure lying crumpled on the ground. You groan again in embarrassment and bury your face in your hands. “Is it obvious that I’ve never put together a tent before?” Your muffled voice causes him to laugh loudly, his head thrown back and you peek at him through your fingers. “I think it’s possible that you could use some help,” he chuckles, walking over to the mess of fabric and poles on the ground and beginning to untangle everything. “Thanks,” You say, leaning down to help him. With his gentle instruction, the tent goes up in no time.

“Well then, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Tom claps his hands together. You smile gratefully at him. “Thank you, really.” You admit. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d really be sleeping under the stars tonight.” “Now now, I wouldn’t let that happen.” He reassures you. His voice softens slightly, “I see that my boys have taken quite a liking to you! They’ve already blessed me with the details of your trip here, and I would like to thank you for keeping an eye on them.”

“It was really no problem, they’re sweethearts. You’re lucky to have them as your sons.”

“Oh yes,” He smiles at you. “Though we aren’t blood related, they are my sons, and I’m blessed to have them. “

Silence spans between you briefly, and as he opens his mouth to speak again, he is interrupted by Timmy and Tommy running up to both of you through the trees. “Sir!” Timmy exclaims, “The other villagers have finished setting up their tents and are waiting for you in the square!” Tommy stands beside you, leaning against your side and you cradle your hand against the side of his head as Timmy eagerly explains his plans of a celebration to take place later in the evening to celebrate the move in. “Yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea Timmy! Go ahead and start those preparations with Tommy. _____ and I will take care of the food and firewood for you. You look up as your name is mentioned.

“Yes sir!” Timmy salutes, and drags his brother off. “So, a celebration huh?” you ask, walking along with Nook, who had begun to gather twigs from around the area. “A celebration to commemorate all of us on our new beginnings, is what Timmy said, “ He chuckles. “He’s not wrong.” You laugh along with him. Spying some low hanging fruit from a nearby tree, you pick some off the branches. “These are peaches, right?” you ask, inspecting the fruit in your hands. Nook walks over and takes it from you. His fur brushes against you and you marvel silently at how soft it was. He sniffs it and confirms your question with a grin. “They sure are! They’ll make some wonderful drinks and snacks for tonight.” You agree and turn to collect more as Nook finishes his task of collecting firewood.

Reaching things turned out to be within the list of things that were causing you difficulty today, as a peach just out of hands reach hung from its branch, mocking you. You were on your tiptoes, straining as much as you could but reaching didn’t seems to be adding any inches onto your height. Resigning yourself to cruel fate, you gave up. Before you could turn around however, you felt two strong arms wrap around your legs and lift you up, causing you to gasp in alarm and grab onto whatever was lifting you. Which turned out to be Nook. “Um, hi?” You say questioningly. “it seemed like that peach was just out of reach,” Nook teased, hoisting you to sit on his shoulder. Oh. Oh. He was strong. As in, you could feel muscles under there, strong. Be still your little beating heart. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without stuttering. However, after you had gotten the fruit, he didn’t put you down, instead choosing to walk to the main area everyone had been in before, both of you chatting the entire way there.

_______________________________________________________________

“Now then, let us start the festivities!” Nook exclaims, lighting a huge bonfire in the middle of the main area. You clap along with everyone else, reveling in the decisions that led up to this moment. “Now, since this can’t exactly qualify as a deserted island anymore, I feel as if it is our duty to name our new home! Yes, we’ll put it to a vote. Everyone think of a good name for this island!”

As Flo and Hamlet split off to talk together, you stand and think to yourself. Many names came to mind but nothing seemed to fit the best. Until one name came to you.

“Avviare”*

Heads turned to look at you and you flush red as you realize you said it out loud. “We love it!” Flo and Hamlet exclaim, clapping eagerly. Nook smiles, “Well then, if we are all in agreement,” He turns to check with Timmy and Tommy, who nod happily, “Then it seems like we have an overwhelmingly positive response to the name Avviare! How splendid!” Taken aback by the response, you smile and give a small bow. Nook gazes at you, a twinkle in his eye. “_____, since you have proven yourself by naming this island, I’d like to rely on you for other critical decisions we’ll need to make along the way. Yes yes, I hereby name you the Resident Representative of Avviare!” Cheers erupt from the others as Timmy and Tommy rush to hug you. “Say a few words!” Tommy urges you.

“Um well… You can count on me!” you declare, slightly overwhelmed by all of the attention. Ever your savior, Nook hands out drinks to everyone and declares a toast. “A toast!” You all raise your drinks, “To Avviare and the happiness of its residents!”

“Cheers!”

The sky has long since grown dark as you all sit around the fire. Crickets chirp in the background and a breeze flows through the air. You lean back while sitting on the log serving as a bench and your gaze wanders over to Nook. The firelight casts shadows across his face, highlighting his features and giving him an air of relaxation. He takes a sip of his drink and your eyes lock yet again. He smiles that all knowing smile and walks over, sitting beside you. “Having a good time?” At your quiet nodding, he chuckles. “This all must be a bit much for you, so if you feel like taking a rest in your tent, by all means, go ahead.”

“You go to deny but a yawn sneaks out, destroying any chance you had for an excuse. “maybe I’ll go do that..” you admit, standing with a sheepish look on your face. Nook stands as well and offers you his arm to take. “Let me walk you back to your tent. You look dead on your feet.”

The walk back to your tent is carried out in comfortable silence, and all to soon the tent comes into view. “Thanks for walking me back Mr. Nook,” your arm is still interlaced with his as you turn to look at him. “Oh please! Call me Tom. There’s no need for such formalities now.” His eyes meet yours. “Well,” He sighs, “We’ve got another big day ahead of us tomorrow, so rest up as much as you can tonight. “ he steps back, and you silently mourn the loss of contact. “Sweet dreams, _____,” He lingers a moment, acting like he wants to say something, but decides otherwise. He gives you a wave as he walks off back through the trees. You watch as he goes.

Stepping inside your tent, you are greeted with a sleeping cot, radio, and lantern. A smaller place that what you were used to, but this was a tent so that was a given. Your suitcase had been delivered as promised so you dug through it to find your pajamas. Laying in bed sounded like a wonderful idea and you plopped down as soon as you had finished changing. You could still hear the wind and crickets outside creating a natural ambiance.

When coming to this island, it was in your plans to just pick a spot and try to live with as few dramatics as possible, but it seemed that life just loved to throw curveballs your way. ‘This one, however,’ you thought as sleep began to take you, ‘doesn’t seem so bad.’.

____________

(*) Avviare- Italian translation of ‘to begin’

________________________________________________________________

And there we have chapter 1! Y’all don’t know how much fun this actually is for me to write haha. Don’t forget to read the prologue if you haven’t already, the link is up at the top.

If you want to be added to a tag list, let me know!

I’m not sure if I’ll have a consistent upload schedule but i’ll try to upload as often as I can now that summer break is coming up.

Aaaand, I think that’s it. Let me know what y’all think!

#animal crossing #new horizons #animal crossing: new horizons #tom nook #tom nook x reader #x reader #timmy and tommy #nook inc

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mmmleckerlecker · 3 years

Note

Please do go off about why you chose certain chapter titles

I wanna know it all 👀

Well. I mean. *cracks knuckles* If you insist....

(putting in a read more tho cause I just break down every chapter title so it gets lengthy)

Some of them are kinda obvious and simple. Like “The Meeting” details Felix and Benji’s first meeting. Duh.

“‘Someone Like You’” is named after a quote in the chapter HOWEVER it IS a quote that comes back once Felix learns about consuming and what Mrs. Marotta truly meant when she said it.

I think “Lion’s Den” was my first ‘clever’ chapter title. There’s not really anything deeper to it than being a reference to the fact that Benji innocently walks into a house filled with preds (the majority of which have consumed fatally)

“The Truth” is simply named for the fact that it’s the chapter where Felix learns the truth about preds and consuming. However, it’s somewhat unintentional (maybe I did it subconsciously), but I think most chapters that start with ‘the’ in the title, are sort of markers for important milestones in the story/character arcs. So, for instance, so far the Big Things to happen have truly been their meeting and learning the truth

“Trust” is also pretty straightforward but I do think it’s the beginning of a sort of reoccurring theme in the story. I also just find the concept of trust fascinating, especially when it’s given to people who naturally don’t seem to deserve it (like Felix)

And then there’s “Crush”!! This chapter was definitely named after the fact that it’s about Camille’s crush on Felix. HOWEVER I liked the sound of it because it was a sort of dark foreshadowing for how their relationship would evolve as time went on.

Was the chapter “Changes” inspired a little bit by the David Bowie song? Maybe so. Do I hear it play in my head every time I read the chapter title? Who is to say? (Same kind of goes for “‘Someone Like You’” where that Adele song plays)

Mmm and “Instinct” was of course named after the fact that this is when Felix’s pred instincts really kick into overdrive and start pushing him down the road to becoming Lux. I know it’s another simple title but I like to think it mirrors “Trust” in a way. Not only are they single word titles, but they’re both reoccurring themes in the story. They’re also both sort of the defining factor in Felix and Benji’s relationship. Does Benji have enough trust in Felix that he’s safe? Are Felix’s instincts powerful enough to jeopardize that safety? Only time will tell...

Okay now listen. Imma be honest. The line, “For Benji,” was NOT originally in this chapter. I was trying to come up with a title and I was like “doesn’t Felix think that to himself at some point?” Turns out ahh nope he didn’t. But no worries. I can do what I want. I simply slipped it in there and now it’s the chapter title. I really only wanted this title For The Drama.

Oof the title for “A Single Condition” was a little difficult to come up with. It’s just that SO MUCH happens in this chapter. It’s the longest chapter in the story so far.* But ultimately the line about Prey Man having a single condition really stood out to me as it’s basically the driving force for the next few chapters so that’s how I got that chapter title. (*Now when I say it’s the longest in the story, I mean it’s the longest POSTED chapter. There’s been more than one chapter I’ve had to split into two when posting cause they’re just too damn long.)

Now “The Scorpion” is one I’m super proud of. I uh dunno how many people got the reference but it’s to the Fable called “The Scorpion and the Frog” where a scorpion asks for a ride across the river on the back of the frog. The frog refuses at first, saying the scorpion will surely sting and kill him while he swims. The scorpion reassures the frog, saying that if he dies, the scorpion will also die by drowning as he cannot swim. The frog agrees to help.... and the scorpion stings him. As they both die, the frog asks why the scorpion did it, and the scorpion responds that it’s simply in his nature. The Scorpion, in this case, is Felix who betrays Benji simply by giving in to his nature. (Note that I don’t really agree with the message behind the fable, but ya know... The Symbolism.)

And then obviously “The Frog” is a reference to Benji who also makes the mistake of trusting his natural enemy and paying for it dearly. (Fun fact but these two chapters where originally one that I split into two to keep the lengths reasonable. And BOY WAS IT A GOOD DECISION. That one week between releases where everyone was LOSING it because they didn’t know whether Felix would let Benji out or not.... was a Good Week)

I think “A New Perspective” was a pretty straightforward title decision. As low key as the chapter itself. I do find it interesting tho that both chapters that start with “A” in the title have to do with Benji getting his world rocked upon learning how other prey view preds

YASSS and then there’s “Lux.” I like this chapter title purely because I don’t think people realized the significance of it when I first posted it. Like it really was like “oh Felix has a cute nickname. That’s fun!” And then several chapters later it’s just “oh okay so Lux really is this whole different side to him huh?” Like this chapter is the absolute true beginning to Lux. Love it.

And for “Lilian” this was a chapter title meant to mirror the previous one. They’re the only two chapters named after a character, they’re back to back, and they both start with an L (although that wasn’t intentional, it just sorta happened lol). This chapter was also originally combined into one chapter with the previous chapter, but again, I broke them up to save on length.

“The Alliance” was simply named for the Pred-Prey Alliance in the chapter, also the driving force for the main conflict (but also note that it’s another chapter title that starts with “the”)

AND THEN we have “The Facility,” the title for which is meant to mirror the one before it because... this is it. These are the two chapters that cement Camille and Felix going down completely opposite paths with Benji stuck right in the middle.

“Homecoming” I think is... a kind uncreative title. But truly not much happens in the chapter itself except that.... Benji comes home

Now for “A Place to Belong” (note how this is the other chapter title that begins with “A”), I think simply titling it “Epomis” was a huge temptation. It’s The Big Reveal and it would sort of mirror the title for chapter 17 “The Facility.” HOWEVER. I thought naming it that would be too much of a spoiler. Especially if a new reader happened to be skimming through the list of chapters. It would give away the significance too soon. And I hate giving spoilers away more than I liked the drama of the title, so I went with “A Place to Belong” instead.

Okay and I’m very much proud of “Golden Boy” because it’s such a small line in the chapter, and the title itself is vague enough that no one would question it until they had more context. And then you get the context and you REALIZE how significant The Golden Boy really is. (Also maybe a little bit cause Lux’s name means “light” and I just like the image of golden light)

“Busy Work” was another one of those uninspired titles for another one or those lowkey Benji chapters. Hmm maybe they should get a category of their own since they keep happening. Anydays. The title mayyy have also been a small reference to the Avatar episode “Bitter Work” in which Toph first (attempts) to teach Aang to earthbend. (Because that show is my favorite ever and I think it inspires my writing a lot in general.)

“The Mission” title is also quite obvious but notice how it’s another “The” title! This is the chapter that marks the beginning of Benji’s path back to Felix/Lux. I’d say that’s pretty important.

Mmmm I love the title for “‘To Live and Give.’” When I first wrote that line a few chapters earlier I was evil smiling to myself about how I was planning to bring it back with a MUCH darker twist. I love it.

“‘All Mouths That Surround You’” aka one of my fave chapters. The perfect intro for the new Lux. This is a reference, of course, to the alt-J song “Every Other Freckle,” which I’ve associated with Lux from the beginning. Now. I realize that some (most) lyric sites list that line as “all baths that surround you.” I think out of context, that line sounds strange, but there IS another line that’s clearly “all showers that shower you” so I guess that would make more sense to include baths as well. But is that as sexy as “mouths”? Absolutely not. So we improvise, overcome, adapt. Moving right along.

“The Reunion,” which I sorta mentioned earlier, is meant to mirror the very first chapter, “The Meeting” and I think that’s beautiful. Like I’m all about taking everything that seemed happy and innocent in the beginning of this story and twisting it so it matches the darker tone of the rest.

“Table Talks” is a little bit of a meh title to me but I do find it entertaining that I think table talks are usually.... not as angsty and full of conflict as Benji and Lux’s is.

“Kleptoparasite” is, as mentioned earlier, a reference to Lux stealing Cecil’s prey. It’s the ~scientific~ term for an animal that acquires its prey by stealing it from other predators. I mostly chose it because I wanted something more clever than “Stolen Prey” (and also I like incorporating Real Life stuff into the story. Like how Epomis is a beetle whose larvae practice predator/prey role-reversal in nature).

And finally there’s “Crumple” which is a callback all the way to chapter 6 “Crush.” This time Camille really IS a crumpled mess. The chapter really hits home with how her and Lux’s relationship has changed over the years. And, of course, it’s just me again doing the classic twist of making things in the early years darker to fit the later years.

Okay! That’s everything up to date so far! I hope this is what you meant when you wanted to “know all” 😂

#anon I’m so fucking sorry if this is Too Much Information #you gave me the opportunity to go off and I SEIZED IT #asks #heart pangs

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thechosenburrito · 3 years

Text

Intro to Love: 1.2-Clinic Crashers

Word Count: 1,016

Description:

Xochi makes a new friend on her way to grab some food but things take a terrifying turn

Author’s Note:

I reread each of these chapters before I post them here. This was written over a month ago and I feel like I’ve already improved a little!

Warnings:

Mention of Blood

/* I will take this time to mention that this series is meant to be a bit on the darker side where injuries and swearing and even death will be fairly common as the series progresses so proceed at your own risk*/

Previous Chapter: 1.1-Free on Sunday

I'm infamous for my sleep schedule, or lack thereof. I've always been more of a night person. During summer break, I'd stay up until the sun came up, go to sleep, and wake up at 4 pm. I thought it was a good system even though it essentially made me nocturnal. A nocturnal lifestyle didn't really lend itself to a college lifestyle. It meant I ended up sleeping for 2-3 hours a night and taking coma-like naps. I'm a pro napper. I can nap for 5 hours straight. That might actually be something to be concerned about. I'll put a pin in that.

The moment just after waking up is the best part of sleeping, just before you remember who you are. It's followed by the worst part of waking up: remembering everything that's wrong with your life.

When I woke up from my nap, after my regular dose of existential crisis, I rolled out of bed. I checked my phone and, yep, my notifications are bone dry. Actually, there was one, from an account I didn't recognize.

(C): hey this is carson. still on for sunday?

I quickly shot off a reply.

(X): yeah. noon right?

(C): yup

(X): cool. I'm probably gonna at least start it tonight

My stomach growled. What did I eat for breakfast? Oh yeah, I came back to my dorm and instantly went to sleep.

(X): after I grab something to eat lol

(C): cool. I can make a document and share it with you so we can both work on it

I must've struck gold.

(X): yeah that would be great

(C): alright I shared it.

(C): ok practice is starting. see you sunday

(X): ok. see you then. I live at Kathrine hall btw

(C): I know lol

(C): I live on the second floor

I instantly went into panic mode. I shot out of bed and started to pace a little. We lived in the same building!?!? How did I not notice !?!? I started going back through my memories, tearing through my mental filing cabinets. I check his profile and his feed. Looking at the pictures, it hit me. He was the guy a couple of rows down from me in my Physics lecture, the bench behind me in my Biology lab, and, worst of all, he sat two people down from me in my Chemistry lecture. This guy is gonna think I'm either not paying attention or don't care about the world around me at all.

I quickly replied something to save my skin.

(X): I'm kidding lol I know

(C): ok suuuurreeee lmao

(C): ok gotta go. see you saturday

(X): bye

I tossed my phone on my bed and started getting dressed to grab lunch. I pulled a flannel over my t-shirt, grabbed my wallet, put on some headphones, and headed for the dining hall.

The hair was hot and thick. It sat on you, crushing your chest. I passed a couple of runners and wondered how they could even go faster than a brisk walk when they were practically breathing hot soup.

I was trying to cross the street when a large white van whizzed past me so close I could feel the air move out of the way. I jumped back and fell onto the sidewalk behind me. A sharp pain shot through my wrist.

"WATCH IT ASSHOLE!" screamed a voice from behind me.

A girl came around and offered me a hand.

"Are you ok - OH YOU'RE BLEEDING!"

"Huh?"

I looked at my wrist and sure enough and I had partially grated it on the sidewalk. Blood was dripping all down my arm. I quickly grabbed it and just ended up getting blood everywhere.

"Yeah. I'm bleeding alright. I should probably go home and clean this up." I said as I forced a small smile.

I tried making a fist and winced.

"Ow!"

"Ok no. You're going to the clinic and getting that looked at," she helped me up with my good wrist. "Come on. I'll walk you to the clinic."

"Oh no! It's ok! I can make it!" I replied quickly.

"Too late. I'm already walking you." She started walking ahead of me and gestured for me to follow.

"Let's go"

I sighed and followed her.

"I think I've seen you in Bio Lecture. Dr. Vargas right?" she asked.

"Yeah. 9 am? Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays?"

"Yep! I'm Sarah! You should sit next to me on Monday....you might need help taking notes.". She gestured to my still bleeding hand.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Xochi. That would help." I said, giving a pained thumbs up.

We weren't too far from the clinic when we saw the white car that almost hit me pull up to the clinic.

"Hey, that's the guy that almost hit you!" She started running towards the clinic. "Hey! Stop!"

The second-hand embarrassment at the mere thought of her confronting the driver was just too much.

"Uh! You don't have to do that!"

I made an attempt to chase after her, but I was never really a runner in high school or ever.

The white car stopped and a figure stumbled out onto the sidewalk. He took a few steps towards the front door of the clinic before crumpling to his hands and knees. The car sped off. I tried to catch the plate numbers but it didn't even have any.

I did my best to catch up with Sarah. She tried to help him up, but his legs were shaking too much. She helped him onto his side and I finally caught up and got a good look at him. He had greasy black hair and dirty glasses. His eyes were wide and glossy looking. He was taking short shallow breaths and his lips were moving as if he were trying to speak. He smelled like he hadn't showered in weeks.

I felt a panic coming.

"HELP!" I yelled, my voice shaking. "SOMEBODY PLEASE! WE NEED HELP"

A few nurses came out to see what was going on and instantly swarmed him.

"Call 911!"

A/N:

So it’s getting a little intense for Xochi. This definitely isn’t the end of her troubles.

#original writing #fiction

3 notes · View notes

just-my-sickly-pride · 5 years

Text

Debut || Roger Taylor x fem!Reader

summary || you’re twenty years old, a full-time uni student, and you’re living out of home. money is tight. so, naturally, you decide to sell your virginity to the highest bidder. when you get an offer from some guy in his mid-thirties, you put on your nicest dress and head on over. but there’s a problem: he has no idea who you are, or why you’ve turned up at his house at nine o’clock at night. maybe things aren’t going to be as simple as you’d hoped. modern day au.

rating || explicit, with fluff dotted throughout. 18+ only. do not read if you are under eighteen. the age gap between reader and roger is sixteen years.

word count || about 17.7k.

author’s notes || welcome one and all to my very first fic on this blog! i pictured roger circa ‘85 (specifically live aid) for this fic. this fic is also dedicated to my friend and fellow mid-thirties-Roger enthusiast Jennifer @mrfahrenhcit (i couldn’t find a way to work in everything you asked, but i’ve saved some of them for the next roger fic that’s in the works). fun fact: this is the first reader fic where i’ve used ‘Y/N’. some people have said they’d had issues with this post being extremely slow to load, or the app has crashed - i think it’s just bc it’s so long, and i apologise for the inconvenience. [i am a proud member of the anti-cross-tagging club.]

masterlist

You don’t think you’ve ever felt more nervous before in your entire life. You’ve wiped your sweaty palms on your dress ten times in the past two minutes, and your heart hasn’t stopped racing from the moment you woke up this morning.

What are you doing? Seriously, what the fuck are you doing?

Well, that’s the thing. You know exactly what the fuck you’re doing.

You aren’t doing it out of embarrassment, or anything to do with pride. You don’t feel pressured, not by anyone, not even by society, fuck society, but you saw some dumb article about it – it was hardly even an article, just gossip – and it gave you the idea, and then you were doing some research about it, just for the money, it’s just for the money, you’ve been living out of home for two years now and life’s still kicking you in the ass, so why wouldn’t you do it for money, if you could? And you can. So you went onto some website and snooped around to check for at least some sign of legitimacy, and then, well, you were making an account, and you made an account, and uploaded some photos that you never thought you’d upload to the Internet, and, a couple weeks later, you found out that someone had chosen you. Chosen you.

And now here you are.

On your way to a strange man’s house.

To lose your virginity to him.

Because he’s paid for it.

Well, he’s paid half. The other half comes… after.

And you’re not nervous about the actual sex part, you suppose, but more about the fact that you’re going to a stranger’s house for sex. Does that make you a sex worker? Could you call someone who played guitar in one gig and got paid for it, but never got paid for it again, a musician?

Probably. But maybe that isn’t the best comparison.

You don’t know much about this guy. Just his address, his name, his age – thirty-six, could be worse, to be fair – and that he’s obviously got plenty of cash to spare. And he’s definitely not the sort of guy you want to have around. Seeing as, y’know, he’s paid a twenty-year-old virgin to have sex with him.

The Uber pulls up to a stop in front of a house. It’s dark outside, almost nine in the evening, so the house is hard to make out, but it’s quite a nice place, very white-picket-fence. Something out of a magazine catalogue about the suburbs. You thank your Uber driver and grab your oversized handbag, climbing out of the car.

You close the door behind you.

The Uber drives off.

And you’re alone on the sidewalk.

You hoist the handbag onto your shoulder. It’s got a couple of things you think you’ll need – condoms, lube, two change of clothes depending on what this guy is after. You think you look more than nice enough in your heels and tight, black dress, but just in case.

You glance at your phone, double-checking the address. You send a quick message to your best friend Justine: at the house. will keep u updated.

She’s the only one who knows; and she only knows because you figured that at least someone should know, if something goes wrong.

Good God, you’re hoping nothing goes wrong. Not in that way. Not in any way, really.

And again, you’re back to asking yourself what the fuck you’re doing.

You take a deep breath, and start heading up the front path.

Your hands are shaking by the time you reach the front step, but you force yourself to raise a fist and rap your knuckles on the door. The automatic porch light is yellow, and you can’t help but feel irked by how unflattering it is.

You can hear movement inside the house. A part of you is searching for the sound of kids, although God forbid there’s any to be heard. But a guy like this… Well, your first conclusion is that he’s looking for an affair.

You really don’t want to be some kind of mistress. But, you suppose, this is really just a business transaction, so you’re free of at least most of the guilt, right? All of it, if you actually have no idea if he’s married.

Please don’t mention your wife, you pray. Don’t implicate me or whatever.

Finally, the door opens, and you feel like you’re about to throw up your heart onto your feet. But you push it down, and drink in the man in front of you.

If you weren’t sure before if he was a dad, now it’s unmistakable. He’s slim, and reasonably tall – not remarkably so, but still tall – and he’s dressed in loose jeans and a blue flannel that he has rolled up to his elbows. His hair is blond, sort of shaggy, sort of spiky, like he spends his time running his hands through it. You idly wonder what it’d feel like in your hands. Guess you’ll find out soon enough.

But the thing that really knocks your socks off is the big blue eyes that blink at you, framed by eyelashes that you’d kill to have yourself. Those eyes flash down to your outfit, and then back up at your face.

Okay. Maybe this whole thing won’t be that bad at all.

You give him your most winning smile. “Hi,” you say in a way that you hope is both alluring and professional.

He blinks at you again. “Hi,” he says, his eyes wide. His gaze flits up and down your body, like he’s trying to compute what he’s seeing in front of him. “Um, hello. What, uh– Can I help you?”

His voice is soft, softer than you were expecting. Gentle, almost.

You lick your lips and shift your feet. “I’m, ah, Mandy. Are you Roger? Taylor?” Your name is fake, of course. You’re not sure about his. Not that it matters.

“Yes, that’s me,” Roger says. He scratches the back of his head. “Uh, I’m sorry, you’re, um, lovely, but I don’t think I know you.”

Huh. Odd. Is this a foreplay thing? “We have an appointment. You booked me two weeks ago, and you gave me this date and this time,” you prompt unsurely.

Roger’s brow crumples. “An… appointment?”

You feel your face starting to heat up. You almost ask if you have the right address, but no, you already know that he’s Roger Taylor, he’s the one who booked, so you must have it right. “Yeah,” you say. “You, um…” You lower your voice a touch. “You already paid in advance. This is pretty much a done deal, but I’m just here to fulfil my end of the bargain. And then, of course, you’ll have to pay me the other half.”

Roger’s starting to look a little pale now, and you’re not quite sure what to do with that. His eyes dart down to your outfit and back up to your face. “Pay you?” he says. “I’ve– what? I’ve paid you? What did I pay you? When?”

Now you’re both embarrassed, and confused, and well, this isn’t something you’d pictured going wrong.

You suddenly feel very exposed in your tight dress and heels.

“Uh.” You scratch behind your ear. “Like, I don’t know what to tell you. You’ve booked me, and I’m here. And it wasn’t a small sum of money, so I doubt you’d want to…”

Roger’s mouth opens, and then closes, and opens again. “Oh, shit, hang on,” he says, his voice flat, “did I… Was this all booked and arranged two weeks ago on the Friday night?”

“Yes,” you say. “Why?”

Roger sighs heavily, and rubs his eyes. “Oh, shit,” he moans. “For God’s…” He raises his head, and sighs again. “Look, um, Mandy, there’s been a big misunderstanding. I, um, went through a divorce, er, relatively recently, a few months ago, and I’ve been doing a bit of wallowing, I guess you could say, and my friends tried to cheer me up a fortnight ago on Friday by bringing round a few bottles of very nice whiskey and gin. I don’t remember a lot of that night, but, now that you mention it, I have some vague memory of my friends trying to get me to, you know, ‘move on’, and, um, I think they might have looked up… people online.”

Your ears are really burning now. “Oh,” you say.

“That’s what this is, isn’t it?” Roger adds. “You’re a…”

“Not really,” you blurt. “Kind of. It– oh, man.” You bite your bottom lip, hesitating, not quite sure how much to reveal about the situation. “Okay, I’ll be honest. Yes, I’m… from a website. But I’m not – this isn’t a living, or a side gig, or whatever. Not that it would matter if I was, because there’s nothing wrong with…” You shake your head. Stay on track. “It’s just a one-off. You paid me to… to take my virginity.”

You swear you can see Roger’s soul leaving his body in that moment. “You– I what?”

You shrug helplessly.

Roger takes a step back, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry for the confusion,” you say, and your stomach sinks further when a realisation comes to you. “I…” You swallow. Your mouth is dry. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t – The money you gave me. I’ve done this to help pay bills and rent and everything, and it’s already been used. A chunk of it, anyway. I can’t refund you. I’m really sorry.”

“No, God, don’t apologise,” Roger says. “You weren’t to know.” He shakes his head. “Fucking dickheads, the lot of them.” He looks to you, and warily inspects your face. “How old did you say you were?” His voice is small, like he’s scared of the answer.

“Twenty,” you reply, and his shoulders sag in relief.

“Thank God,” he says. “I mean, still, you’re so young, but at least you’re…”

“An adult?”

He nods, grimacing sheepishly. “I really am being honest when I say I don’t remember much of that night. My mates aren’t those sorts of people, but, well, who knows what they’d try to pull when they’re pissed.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say. “I look young for my age. But I am twenty.”

“No, I believe you,” Roger says quickly. “I’m not… No.”

You wipe your palms on your dress again. What now? Do you just go home? That wasn’t the cheapest Uber ride you’ve ever had. You were kind of relying on that extra money.

Roger seems equally at loss. “You– Did you have to travel far?”

“Not that far,” you say. “Forty minutes-ish.”

“Fuck,” Roger says. He puts his hands on his hips, and then drops them again. “What time is it? It’s nearly nine, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, about nine.”

“It’s late. You should be getting home.”

Your heart sinks. Wow. Okay. This is really just over like that. “Um, yeah, I guess,” you say. You take half a step back. “I’m really sorry about the– the, um, whole mix-up thing. And sorry about your divorce.”

Great. Real smooth.

“Thanks,” Roger says. He hesitates, and you’re about to turn and head back down the driveway, when he says, “How are you getting home? Did you drive?”

“Uh, no,” you say. “Uber.”

“Uber? God, no, sod that,” Roger says. “Let me…” He fumbles for something in his back pocket, but comes up empty. “Let me pay for it. I don’t– Can I pay you for it?”

“It’s all right,” you reassure him. “You’ve already given me– it’s okay.”

“No, please, I insist,” he says. “Should I– cash? I can give you cash. Or… transfer…” He rolls his eyes at himself, those pretty blue eyes that shouldn’t belong to a man his age, but somehow suit him perfectly. “God,” he mutters. “I usually have things more together than this, I promise. I’ve just been caught beyond off-guard.”

“Sorry,” you say again.

“It’s not your fault, really, I don’t– How could I blame you? You had no idea. I am going to murder my friends.” He sighs, rubbing his temple. “Um. Okay. I’ve paid you before, haven’t I, if you got the deposit? How did I do it? I can just do it that way again.”

“You transferred it to me,” you say. You shift in your heels. Your feet are starting to ache.

“Let’s do it that way again, then,” Roger says. “I’ll just get my phone, sorry.”

“It’s okay, really,” you say yet again, stopping him. “Don’t bother. I’ll– It’ll take me two minutes and then I can be on my way home.”

Roger hovers, and then says, “Can I– Did you want to wait inside? Or out on the steps? Could I get you some water, at least?”

You hesitate. “Um–”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” Roger blurts, and then he shakes his head. “Now it sounds like I am trying to do something. I’m not. Really. If you want, you can just wait here and I’ll go inside and leave you alone.”

You glance at your phone. You haven’t ordered the Uber yet, but you are pretty thirsty. You look back up to Roger. “Well, I already had it in my head that I was coming here to sleep with you, so I’m not really concerned about you trying anything,” you say. “Some water sounds nice, actually.”

Roger laughs. Like his voice, it’s unexpectedly soft, and it makes you smile.

“Um. Yes,” he says, glancing at his feet. “Well. Um, come on in, then.”

You head back up the path, and Roger steps aside to let you in.

You slip past him. He smells good.

His house, on the inside, is just as white-picket-fence as it is on the outside. Not the tidiest, but you suppose he wasn’t expecting company.

He seems to notice the slight mess the same moment you do, and he hurriedly darts forward to tidy up.

“Sorry,” he says.

“No, don’t worry about it,” you say.

He bends down to grab an empty beer bottle from where it sits on the floor next to the couch. Nice ass.

Not that it matters. You aren’t sleeping with him anymore. But, to be fair, you are only human. Just because you’re no longer ordering doesn’t mean you can’t admire the menu.

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting any guests, obviously,” Roger adds, half-jokingly.

You chuckle, and adjust your dress. Roger’s eyes flash down to your hands, then to your chest where you’ve pulled the dress down a little further in your adjustment, and then he quickly looks away, running his hand along his jaw.

“Uh, um,” he says. “Water? Um– take a seat, by the way. Feel free to sit…” He gestures vaguely around him. “Sit anywhere. Anywhere you like.”

“Um, okay,” you say, and hesitate, before awkwardly perching on his couch.

“Sorry, did you say you wanted water?” Roger says.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” you say.

“Yeah, of course,” Roger says, and then disappears into the kitchen.

You breathe in a lungful of air and slowly let it out. Wow. Talk about an unexpected evening.

You take out your phone and message Justine. boy do I have a story to tell u.

She’s online, and she replies immediately. fuck what’s happened?? everything alright??

You bite your lip, considering how to reply. yeah I’m fine. the guy is super easy on the eyes, but there’s been a mix up and basically I am remaining firmly in the virgin zone for the foreseeable future lol.

You backspace and try again. yeah I’m fine. long story short I’m coming home. tell u about it when I get there.

is he ugly?? Justine replies, and you can’t help but smile in amusement.

oh no, that’s not the issue even a little bit, you reply.

“I’m assuming tap water is fine?” Roger says, reappearing with a glass of water, making you jump slightly and flip your phone face-down on your leg, as if he could somehow see the screen from across the room. “Sorry, I should’ve asked. I don’t really have anything else.”

“No, no, tap water is fine, thank you,” you say, and he hands the glass to you.

You take a sip.

Roger glances away, seemingly looking for something to do or something to say, as if the answer is written in the walls. He chews on his thumbnail.

Your mind scrambles to find something to say, but it feels like trying to eat soup with a fork.

“Is everything all right?” Roger asks suddenly, looking to you. “I know this is probably completely inappropriate, but… Well, paying for someone to…”

Your stomach sinks with embarrassment. “Oh,” you say. “Um. Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. Just – could do with the money.”

“Of course, yeah,” Roger says hurriedly, nodding. “You’re at uni?”

“Yeah. And living out of home, so.”

“Right. Yeah, of course, I should’ve guessed. Sorry, that was…”

“No, it’s fine,” you say with a reassuring smile. You chuckle. “I’m sorry for disrupting your evening like this.”

“No, no, it…” Roger smiles, and you feel every trace of oxygen leave your lungs, because wow, he’s attractive. “It’s a welcomed interruption, actually.”

“It is?”

“Well, all I had planned was to watch something shit on Netflix and drink beer,” Roger says, screwing up his nose. “Not exactly exciting.”

“Oh, don’t let me stop you,” you say. “Sounds like they were big plans.”

Roger laughs, and your heart thuds against your ribcage. “The sort of plans that sound much nicer when you have company, I think.” He pauses. “Not that– not that I’m expecting you to–” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Really, I’m not usually this… awkward.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” you say, shaking your head.

“I used to be a real ladies’ man, you know,” Roger says. “Back in the day. Before my wi– my ex-wife. And the kids.”

“Sure,” you say, drawling sarcastically.

Roger laughs again, a little surprised, but amused. “I was!” he insists. “I was picking up women left and right.”

“I believe you,” you say lightly.

Roger grins, and you have to take a steadying breath. “You’ve got a tongue on you, haven’t you?” he says delightedly.

“So it’s been said.”

It comes out more suggestive than you’d intended. Roger takes a moment to drink you in, and then he bites his bottom lip, looking away, one hand sliding into the back pocket of his jeans, the other one slipping under his shirt, massaging his shoulder.

Your stomach flips and jumps. You take a sip of water.

“You sure you’ve never been with anyone before?” Roger says.

You snort. “That’s a pretty rude question, don’t you think?”

Roger smiles sheepishly. “You’re right. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

You take another sip of water, and then say, “I haven’t slept with anyone, no. I think I’d know if I had.”

“Right,” Roger says mildly, nodding.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What?”

“Nothing, I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking very loudly. Is there something wrong with me not having slept with anyone?”

“No,” Roger says, his eyes widening. “No, shit, that’s not what I was trying to say. It– you just seem… I’m just surprised. That someone like you…”

You adjust your dress again. Roger’s eyes drop to your breasts again, and back up to your face. “What do you mean by that?” you ask, trying not to preen.

Roger ponders over his answer for a while. “You just seem to… know what you want.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“Yeah,” Roger says noncommittally.

His eyes find yours, and they stay there. Your heart is racing in your chest now, making your blood feel warm. You’ve been attracted to plenty of people before, but this is really something else.

Roger clears his throat, breaking away, and you surreptitiously squeeze your thighs together.

Your phone buzzes on your thigh. It’s Justine. so he’s hot?

“Is that your Uber?” Roger asks. If you aren’t mistaken, he sounds almost disappointed.

Your cheeks grow hot. “Oh, um, I haven’t actually… I forgot to call it.”

“Oh,” Roger says. A tinge of relief? “Well, no rush.”

“It’s just my friend checking up on me,” you add.

“That’s good of them.”

“Yeah. Well, actually, she was checking up on me before. Now she’s just–” You open and close your mouth a few times, but decide to be honest. “Uh, she’s just, um, asking about you.”

Roger quirks an eyebrow, and it’s so hot that you have to look away. “About me?”

Your phone buzzes again. are you on ur way home now?

“Uh,” you say, and quickly type out, not yet.

“What have you told her?” Roger asks, playfully curious.

You put your phone down, and take a breath, smoothing your hands down your legs, thinking carefully of how to answer. “Just that you seem nice.”

“Nice?” Roger says.

“And you’re… Well.” You smirk. “I’m sure you’ve seen yourself in the mirror. No point in boosting your ego too much.”

Roger steps forward, drawn to you by an invisible string. “I don’t think I understand,” he says faux-innocently.

“I’m sorry, weren’t you just saying a minute ago that you were pulling girls left and right?” you say, cocking your head.

“Oh, yeah, when I was twenty,” Roger says. “Not talking about now.”

“Have you tried?”

Roger pauses, slightly taken aback by this, and his eyes roll to the ceiling as he thinks, blowing hair out of his cheeks. “You may have a point there.”

“And I suppose that’s why these friends of yours contacted me?”

“You… may have a point there,” Roger says again.

You nod to yourself. “I don’t see why they couldn’t have just taken you to a pub and set you up with someone there. It’d have been a lot cheaper.”

“They’ve, um…” Roger cards his hand through his hair. “They’ve tried that, actually.” He hesitates, and then walks over to you, sitting down on the armchair near you. “They’ve taken me out a couple of times.”

“And you’ve struck out?” you ask.

Roger chuckles. “No. I – well, like you said, I suppose I haven’t really tried. I didn’t want to.”

“Too soon?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s…” Roger pulls a face. “I don’t know. Haven’t felt like it, really. Maybe it was too soon. Or maybe the thought of having to try to chat someone up just seemed like so much effort.”

“Surely it wouldn’t be much effort for you.”

Roger meets your eyes again, and he smiles slowly, running his tongue along his teeth. “Oh yeah?”

Your phone vibrates. The way Roger’s looking at you makes you wish it was something else vibrating that you could put to good use alone in your room.

Roger’s eyes flick down to the phone, and back up to your face. “That your friend again?”

You hesitate, and then flip the phone over. hellooooo????? wtf is going on????

“Yeah,” you say, and put the phone down beside you.

“You going to answer it?”

“In a minute.”

You smooth your hands down your thighs. Roger watches like a hawk.

Your hands slide back up your thighs.

He swallows.

You smile.

“You, um, you ever…” Roger tears his eyes away from your thighs to look at your face. “Have– have you ever had a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you say casually. “Not for a long while, though. And nothing too serious. Nothing as full-on as marriage.”

Roger laughs, but it comes out sounding a bit strangled. “Yeah. That’s all right, though. That doesn’t matter.”

Your phone buzzes.

You ignore it.

“I never got around to… all of that,” you explain. “Y’know. Fucking.”

Roger’s face goes slack. “Uh–”

“I wasn’t waiting for anyone special,” you continue. Your blood feels electrified under his gaze. “Just never quite got there.”

“Never quite–?”

You hum. “That’s misleading. I’ve made out with plenty of people, but that’s all. Some over-the-clothes action. Basically nothing, really.”

Roger looks like he’s struggling to breathe. “Uh-huh.”

“You probably find that hard to imagine,” you say with a wry smile. “Having kids and all. How old were you your first time?”

Roger blinks, and takes a moment to reply. “Uh, I was sixteen.”

You laugh. “God, I can’t even picture…” You frown, and shake your head. “It’s hard to picture what it’d be like, you know? The reality of it? You can watch as much porn as you like – and I’ve watched plenty, mind you – but, like, I know that it’s not real. Not realistic, anyway. I’ve spent what feels like ages just trying to picture what is actually is like, but it’s impossible for me to know.”

“It’s good,” Roger says, and it comes out in a rush, and he looks surprised at himself.

You feel a thrill go through you. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Roger says. “Everyone says your first time isn’t good, but that’s only if your partner doesn’t know what they’re doing. And it’s nice when you have an idea of what you’re doing, too, but that comes with time. And if you have a good teacher.” He rakes his hand through his hair again. “But when the chemistry is right, and the mood is right, it’s… good.”

“That’s descriptive,” you murmur sarcastically.

Roger huffs a laugh. “What do you want, a detailed explanation? Graphs and illustrations?”

“A demonstration would be nice.”

Shit. Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. Why the fuck did you say that?

Your eyes are wide, and you open and close your mouth a few times. “Uh.” Roger looks as surprised as you feel. “Oh,” he says. “Um. Wow. Is– is this part of the…”

You blink. “Part of the…?”

“The whole…” He gestures vaguely. “…thing. You being paid to…”

“Did I just make a complete idiot of myself as part of my attempt to woo you as a kind-of sex worker?” you ask. You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Nope. No. That was all me. Just being a dumbass.” You groan, covering your face. “I’m sorry,” you say from behind your hands. “This is so embarrassing.” This whole night has been nothing but a huge embarrassment. You can’t wait to go home and forget about it, thanks to an unhealthy dose of alcohol.

“I’m sorry,” Roger says.

You lower your hands. “For what?”

“For – I don’t know. I just felt I needed to apologise.”

You snort. “You don’t have to apologise for me very clumsily and awkwardly and horribly trying to flirt with you, Roger.” You roll your eyes at yourself. “You’re probably used to seeing that all the time.”

“Again, not for a very long time,” Roger says. “But I know what horrible and awkward flirting looks like, and… that wasn’t it.”

“But clumsy, though, right?” you say, screwing up your nose.

Roger chuckles. “Maybe. But that’s all right.” He shifts in his seat. “I was just as clumsy.”

You wave a hand, and reach for your phone. It’s high time you called your Uber. And reply to Justine. “You weren’t flirting with me.”

You re-read the messages from Justine you’re yet to reply to.

so hes hot?

are you on ur way home now?

hellooooo????? wtf is going on????

Then the new one, from a few minutes ago: for the love of god can u please reply to me. something. anything. I’ll take a solid thumbs-up.

So you send a thumbs-up.

When you look up, Roger is staring at you, and you realise he hasn’t spoken since you did.

You’ve well and truly crossed a line somewhere. You can’t blame him for wanting you out. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m just – my friend. I’ll get the Uber now. Sorry it’s taken me so long.”

“Don’t,” Roger says.

You pause. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t order the Uber.”

Your stomach bubbles. “Wh– No?”

“Not yet, at least,” Roger says. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You think I wasn’t flirting with you?”

“Why would you be?” you respond automatically.

“Why would…” Roger shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’m a random twenty-year-old woman who’s just shown up at your door on a Tuesday night dressed like this talking about how you paid to take my virginity,” you say bluntly. “Which is more than a little off-putting.”

“Well, all right, I’ll give you that,” Roger says. “But here I am, still trying to clumsily flirt with you nonetheless.”

You break out into a smile, a bashful one, and duck your head. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Roger repeats, a touch playfully.

You glance up at him. He’s smiling at you, pleased with your reaction, and the thought of kissing him flashes through your mind, and you’ve suddenly never wanted anything more. You purse your lips, looking at your hands again, fiddling with your phone, flipping it around and around in your grip.

“Mandy,” he says gently, and you’re puzzled for a moment before you remember –

“That’s, um, not my real name,” you tell him with an awkward chuckle. But you really like how he said it all the same.

Roger looks so embarrassed that you can’t help but laugh. “Here I was, trying to be all suave, and now I look like an idiot,” he says.

You shake your head. “You don’t. You didn’t know.”

“I should’ve guessed you weren’t using your real name.”

“No, it’s fine,” you giggle.

“Well, am I allowed to know your real name? So I can try again?”

You hesitate.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Roger says quickly. “That’s fine. Security, and all. Stranger danger.”

You laugh again. “Stranger danger? I’m in your house.”

“I could be a stalker. You don’t know that.”

Fuck, you’re attracted to him. “Dork,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

Roger chuckles, his eyes sparkling.

“It’s [Y/N],” you add.

“[Y/N],” he repeats, and your breath catches ever so slightly. He pauses, and then comes to sit beside you on the couch, and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, [Y/N],” he says. “I’m Roger.”

You giggle, and take his hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Roger.”

He’s so close now. He smells amazing, and his hand is warm, and his eyes are so blue, and his lips–

You realise you’ve been staring at his mouth, your hand still in his, and you glance back up at his eyes before quickly taking your hand back, looking away.

You tuck your hair behind your ear, clearing your throat. You’re barely aware of your own body – only his, and how close it is to yours. Like there’s a force between the two of you, connecting you. When he swallows and moves his hand back to his own lap, you can feel it as if it’s your own.

“Do you, um…” Roger takes a breath in, and you feel your chest, your lungs, buzz. “Tell me about yourself a bit.”

“Me?” you say, looking to him. Oh, wow, he really is close. Fucking hell, you want him.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “What do you do for fun? Stuff like that?”

You lick your lips, and his eyes dart to the movement. “Um, well, I…” You absentmindedly adjust your dress, and it catches his eye again. “I’m at uni, in my second year. It’s all right. Pretty stressful, obviously, but I like it well enough. I live with two of my friends. I, um… I like… dogs.”

Roger laughs.

This is so stupid, you realise. You both clearly want each other.

You shake your head. “Stupid,” you mutter.

Roger frowns. “What’s stupid?”

“This,” you say. You gesture between the two of you for emphasis. “This.”

“Oh,” Roger says. He shifts away from you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You huff. “You’re not.”

“Then what–”

“Kiss me,” you cut in.

Roger stops. “Kiss you?”

“Yes,” you say, keeping your gaze steady on his. “You’re too damn difficult to resist. So kiss me.”

Roger hesitates.

You raise your eyebrows. “Unless you don’t want to?”

“No, I – I do,” he says. “I just…”

“What?”

“I feel like the circumstances… I don’t want you to think I’m just doing this because I’ve paid you to…”

“I don’t think that,” you say. “And I don’t want your money; this is way beyond that now. I’m not trying to trick you into sleeping with me so I can force you to pay me. I just know chemistry when I see it.”

Roger chuckles. “I was right,” he says. “You know exactly what you want.”

You steel your nerves. “Yeah,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “And I want you.”

Roger swallows. “But you don’t even know me.”

“Nope.”

“And you’re in my house.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m so much older than you.”

“That’s right.”

“And you’re…”

“I’m a virgin,” you finish, nodding. “I know. But for the love of God, Roger, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m going to scream.”

Roger exhales, shakes his head minutely, and then says, “God fucking damn it,” and leans in to kiss you.

You immediately shift to press closer towards him, one hand coming to rest against his chest. He kisses you earnestly, but gently, like he’s nervous. Nervous about making you feel pressured, you can safely assume.

But that’s not what you’re about. You pull back, and, before he can say anything, you climb on top of him, straddling his waist, and kiss him again, more deeply than before. He breaks away just far enough to whisper, “Holy shit,” and then ducks his head to kiss down your throat. You tilt your head to give him more room, one hand against his chest and the other raking through his hair. His hands, rough and warm, smooth up your thighs, and your breath catches. They stop just under the hem of the dress, and a soft whine slips from your throat.

Roger moans in response. “Jesus Christ.”

You reach down and grab at his wrists, urging his hands to go further up the dress. “Touch me,” you pant.

He draws back, and you look down at him, at his slightly flushed cheeks and his ruffled hair, and you want him naked, right now. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says. “We can just make out, that’s absolutely fine. Just because of… the whole… arrangement…”

“Roger,” you say slowly, “I’m only going to say this once, because I don’t want to have to repeat myself.”

He nods, swallowing.

You cup his face in your hands, boring your eyes into his. “I want you to fuck me. Tonight. Right now.”

Roger takes a shaky breath. “Are you–”

“What did I just say?” you cut in. “Not repeating it.”

Roger smiles, laughing breathlessly. “Bloody hell.”

You smirk. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, it most certainly is one, believe me.”

You lean in to kiss him, and his hands, thank the Lord, slide further up your thighs. You start unbuttoning his shirt, blindly, fumbling a little, and your kisses grow more eager.

You’ve kissed a number of people in your time. Not a whole lot, but a few. And Roger really takes the damn cake.

When his shirt is fully unbuttoned, untucked from his jeans, you move your lips down his neck, and he moans, letting his head roll back, his hands shifting to grab your ass, pulling you against him. You can feel the tent in his jeans, and, beyond thrilled, you grind against it, loving how a bolt of arousal shoots through you. Roger’s grip on you tightens, and when you nip at his skin, he spits out, “Fuck.”

You rock your hips against him again, and he laughs again. “God, it’s been too long.”

You hum, nipping his throat again and soothing it with your tongue. “How long is too long?”

“Months. Lost count. Ah, fuck.”

You pull back, giving him a look, and he lifts his head to meet your eyes. “Try twenty years,” you say dryly.

Roger shakes his head. “Can’t even imagine.” He kisses you, just once, and then murmurs against your lips, “I promise I’ll make this good for you.”

You shiver. “I’m sure you will.”

“I mean it.” He kisses you again, and then sits back, his hands sliding back to your thighs and squeezing them gently. “I want this to be good for you. If I’m going to be your first, I want you to enjoy it. So you have to tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like, yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“I don’t care what it is we’re doing – you can tell me to stop at literally any point, and I will, no questions asked.”

You nod. “I know, I know.”

Roger chuckles. “You just really want to get things going, don’t you?”

“Yes.” You press your lips to his, and, now that you both know where things lie between you, you’re both eager to get to the next step. The kisses quickly become more feverish, hotter, deeper. Roger’s hands go to the back of your dress, working the zipper down your spine, and you shudder at the feeling of it. When he’s done, you sit back to yank it over your head, dropping it the floor behind you.

Roger’s eyes drink you in, his mouth hanging open. “Whoa.”

You flush under his gaze. You know you look good – you’d worn your push-up bra and matching lace underwear for a reason – but it’s still a rush to get a reaction like that.

“Bedroom?” Roger says, his voice a touch weak, and you nod, leaning in to steal one last kiss before climbing off him, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. He groans slightly as he does so, and you giggle.

“I know, I know, I’m old,” he says.

“No, I like it,” you say, tugging him closer to you and hooking a finger of your other hand through a belt loop on his jeans. “Dad noises.”

Roger shakes his head, his hands coming to rest on your waist, and you lean into the touch. “Don’t say that,” he grumbles. “Makes me feel even older.”

“You’re not old,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You’re not even forty.”

Roger laughs. “Ah, yes, a real spring chicken.”

“Can you stop whining and fuck me already? I’m gonna be forty by the time we get to it.”

Roger snorts. “Cheeky.” He leans in to kiss you, and you curl your arms around his neck, pressing into him.

When you break apart, you take Roger’s hand again, and he leads you to his bedroom, both of you stumbling slightly in the dark house. You’re only in your underwear, but you’re still wearing your heels, and you feel like you’re in some kind of Victoria Secret ad.

Roger keeps glancing back at you, his eyes sweeping your body, and he’s so distracted he almost runs into a wall at one point, and you have to tug on his arm to pull him out of the way, laughing as you do so. He retaliates by pushing you up against the wall and kissing you senseless, his thigh slotted between yours. You’re lightheaded and unbelievably turned on by the time he breaks away again, and it feels like a lifetime before you reach his bedroom.

Roger switches on the light.

The double bed is unmade, but the room itself is fairly tidy, just a pair of shoes and a shirt on the floor. The whole room screams tax-paying adult, and you’re reminded again that the man you’re about to sleep with is, in fact, a proper adult. Not like you, an adult by the loosest terms imaginable, but a fully-grown man with children and a mortgage and a career, probably. A completely different world to yours.

But none of that will matter when you’re both naked.

He closes the door behind him, and then you’re pouncing on him, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and all but tearing his belt off. His hands are tight on your hips, and when you undo his belt and the button and fly on his jeans, he pants, “Bed, bed, go sit on the bed.”

You do as you’re told, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing one knee over the other, taking the opportunity to quickly tie your hair back out of your face while and Roger fumbles with the rest of his clothes, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his socks and jeans. You can tell that he would’ve been thin as a twig back in the day, and you’d easily call him slender even now, but his body is soft, the sign of a father who’s spent more time taking care of the kids and having a beer in the evenings to wind down than going to the gym. It suits him, looks good on him. You’re certainly a big fan.

Soon, he’s down to nothing but his boxer-briefs. His boxer-briefs, which are neon green.

You break out into a grin, and Roger looks down at them, sighing. “Of all the fucking pairs I could’ve put on today,” he mutters.

“They’re pretty great,” you say, and you make sure you have Roger’s full attention before you uncross your legs, spreading your knees wide, leaning back on your hands, “but I’m more interested in what’s underneath them.”

From the look on Roger’s face, you’d guess his legs are about to give out from under him. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he huffs, and he hurries over.

Grinning, you scramble backwards on the bed, lying down, and he crawls after you, over you, and his kiss is bruising.

Your hands are shaking now – with excitement and with nerves, a lot of nerves – but you ignore that, and worm your fingers inside his underwear, wrapping your hand around him and giving him a tug.

He jerks, and you have a moment of panic where you think you’ve done the wrong thing, but then he kisses you with more fervour, so you do it again. This time, his hand finds yours, gently guiding you away.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask.

Roger looks confused for a moment, and then says, “God, no. I just don’t want to get too worked up before we get to, y’know, the main event.”

“Oh,” you say, smiling in relief.

“You really have no experience at all, do you?” Roger says, sounding almost disbelieving.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” you say. “It hasn’t all been some elaborate ruse to get into your pants. Literally all I have is some vague, theoretical ideas on how this works. And I know the mechanics. But that’s it. So you’re gonna have to be patient with me.”

“That’s fine by me,” Roger says. He chuckles. “It’ll make everything I do seem much more magical than it really is.”

“Sure,” you say mock-condescendingly.

Roger laughs, and he looks so wonderful when he’s laughing that you can’t help but smile, your hand reaching up to comb through his hair.

He notices the look in your eye, your smile, and he smiles back in a way that makes your stomach squirm and your fingers and toes tingle.

He kisses you, and the squirming in your stomach grows into full-blown butterflies, big Amazonian ones, and you begin to have an inkling that, oh no, this could be bad. This could be very bad indeed.

It’s probably nothing. He’s just hot, and nice, and funny, so you’re excited to have sex with him. That’s it. You’re a duckling that’s imprinted on its mother. Except you’re a human, and Roger’s the first person you’re having sex with, not your mother.

Not the best analogy you’ve come up with. You can’t blame yourself, though – the way Roger’s kissing you is turning your brain into mush.

He presses a kiss to just under your ear, and then kisses all the way down your throat, and you tilt your head back. “Feels so good,” you murmur.

You can feel Roger smile against your skin.

He keeps going, kissing the hollow at the base of your throat, further down still, and you bite your bottom lip. He presses a kiss to the top of your right breast, and then looks up at you. “Can I take your bra off?”

You nod eagerly, and he moves back so you can sit up. “Oh, I’ve still got my shoes on,” you said.

“I’ve noticed,” Roger says, and you chuckle.

“As super sexy as they are, I do wanna take them off,” you say.

Roger ducks forward to drop a kiss to your neck, and the butterflies are back, and you can feel your cheeks going pink. You want to hide your face, but Roger’s right there, and you can’t look away from his eyes. “How about you take your bra off,” he says, “and I’ll get your shoes.”

“You don’t have to take my shoes off for me,” you say.

“Well, I want to,” he says simply, and shuffles down, climbing off the bed. He gestures for you to shift forward, and you do, until your feet are hanging off the bed, your knees hooked over the edge. Roger gets onto his knees – he makes a dad noise as he does so, and you giggle again – and fiddles with the buckle on one of your shoes.

You take a moment to watch him, biting your lip, smiling, and then reach behind you and unhook your bra, slipping it from your shoulders.

He doesn’t look up right away, and you’re thankful for a moment to get your head around the fact that you’ve never been completely topless in front of anyone before. You’re self-conscious about the grooves the bra has dug into your skin, about the way your breasts look without the aid of the push-up, and you almost go to cross your arms over yourself, but then Roger glances up, and his hands go still. “Bloody hell,” he breathes. “You’re gorgeous.”

You tuck your hair behind your ear. “Thanks,” you say in a small voice, unsure how else to respond.

Roger shakes his head, and focuses back on the shoe, making quick work of it and easing it off your foot, setting it down beside him. He moves onto the other shoe. “Talk about winning the fuckin’ lottery,” he says.

“I could say the same,” you say.

Roger stops again, looking to you, and then smiles, looking back to the shoe. His ears have gone red.

He takes the second shoe off and places it beside the first, then presses light kisses to the inside of your knee. He moves further up your leg, up your thigh, and you realise you’re holding your breath. His arms are curled around underneath your legs.

Roger looks up at you, his thick eyelashes making him look almost angelic. “Is this all right?” he says. “If I…?”

He’s asking if he can eat you out. Oh, God, he’s asking if he can eat you out. He wants to put his mouth and tongue there, and maybe his fingers, too, and no one’s ever done that before.

You nod eagerly. Maybe a little too eagerly, as Roger laughs.

You feel your stomach cave in on itself in embarrassment. “Actually, no thanks,” you say, trying to pull your legs back. “Changed my mind.”

“No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” Roger says, still chuckling. He coaxes your legs back to where they were, and kisses your thigh. “It was just the look on your face.”

“You’re doing a terrible job of wooing me,” you say, aiming for resolute and chastising, but it comes out sounding more weedy and humiliated.

“I’m sorry,” Roger says again, and his hands stroke your legs soothingly. “I am. I didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed.” He smiles, a glint in his eye, and you’re momentarily left breathless. “Can I… make it up to you?”

You can’t help but smile back, rolling your eyes. “Wow. Cheesy.”

“Thank you,” Roger says. “I’m going to be honest, as fun as this banter is, my knees aren’t going to last forever.”

You splutter a laugh. “Yes, yes, okay, yes please.”

Roger surges up off the floor to press a firm kiss to your lips, and you take a moment to wonder just how dodgy his knees really are if he can do something like that, or whether he was just looking for a convenient segue into getting your underwear off. You’re not fussed either way.

Roger kisses your collarbone, and then pulls back, hooking his fingers into your underwear. “Lift your hips up for me, love?”

The pet name makes heat pool between your legs. Oh, Jesus.

“Mm-hm,” you say, hoping it sounds more nonchalant to him than it does to your own ears, and lie back to lift your hips, and he slides your underwear down your legs and drops them near your shoes.

You expect him to go back to his knees straight away, but he holds himself above you, kissing you, deep and slow, making you whimper into his mouth. One hand holds himself up, and the other one massages your hip, his thumb kneading your skin. Relaxing you, you realise. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, and you’re only partially aware when Roger’s hand moves from your hip to your thigh, brushing over your skin.

You’re extremely aware, however, when his fingers stroke through your folds for the first time.

Despite yourself, you jump, and Roger murmurs, “Sorry,” but you shake your head to dismiss his concerns, and pull him in again.

For a few moments it’s strange, feeling someone’s else hand there, and you’re very conscious of how wet you are, and you wonder if it’s something you should be embarrassed about, but then Roger circles your clit, and suddenly all your worries seem very far away.

It feels… good. Really fucking good. Roger’s fingers are rougher than yours, but they’re clearly experienced in how they move.

You push your hips up against Roger’s hand, wanting more, and Roger complies, his fingers moving just a touch more roughly, and he ducks his head to nuzzle at your throat, kissing it, nipping lightly.

“Oh, God,” you moan to the ceiling, overwhelmed already, and you almost laugh at how surprised you sound. Your hand grips Roger’s hair, and you hope it’s not too hard, but you couldn’t let go if you tried.

Then Roger’s hand is gone, and you let out a choked sound at the sudden stop. You try to gather your thoughts to ask why, but then Roger is kissing down your body. Oh, man, you think, unable to conjure up anything else, and Roger chuckles, and you realise you said it out loud, but you don’t have time to be embarrassed, as Roger takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, his teeth tugging at it, and you gasp.

“I’ve never… That’s new,” you say weakly, hissing when Roger runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple.

Roger pulls off to ask, “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, uh-huh.”

“Good.” He goes back to his task, and you arch off the bed slightly.

“So good,” you breathe. Roger switches to the other nipple, and you moan appreciatively.

Eventually, both to your dismay and your excitement, he draws away, and presses a single kiss to the space between your breasts. “You’re fucking stunning,” he says, and then he moves back to climb off the bed, setting himself between your thighs.

You struggle to wrap your head around it. How he could be making you feel this good, and then still compliment you, as if you’ve done anything to deserve it?

Roger doesn’t waste time talking now. He kisses the inside of your thigh, and then he dives straight in, his tongue nudging your clit as it pushes through your folds. You suck in a sharp gasp, your hand gripping his hair tightly. Your other hand flails, grappling at the sheets as he starts to find a rhythm. You wind up pressing the back of it to your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds you’re making, trying to gather some sort of control, because right now you feel like you’re falling head-first off a cliff, and Roger has complete power over how you land.

He does something with his mouth – you couldn’t tell for the life of you what it is – and your hips buck against your will. “Sorry,” you blurt out, and it comes out broken and breathless.

Roger just adjusts one of his arms, bracing it across your hips, holding you down, and you moan. His other hand joins his mouth, sliding a finger into you. “Oh, fuck,” you whisper, and then your hand returns to its position, keeping you somewhat quieter.

It doesn’t take long before Roger’s working in a second finger, pumping them in and out of you, and the sound of it is so obscene that it makes your face go bright red. You’re climbing towards an orgasm, frighteningly quickly, and when a third finger squeezes in beside the first two, you very nearly come, but the sting of the stretch is enough to keep it at bay.

But then your body relaxes around the three fingers, and Roger crooks them just so and sucks on your clit, and you move your hand away from your mouth to say in a rush, “I’m– I’m so close, I’m gonna come, fuck, ah, shit,” and then–

Then Roger is gone, his fingers and mouth are gone, and you’re left teetering on the brink of an orgasm, feeling like the air has been punched out of you.

“Wh– Roger?” you say, your head a mess. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see Roger still between your legs, but instead he’s massaging your thighs with his thumbs, dropping light kisses to your soft skin.

He smiles up at you, his nose and chin glistening. “Thought we could try something.”

You shake your head to try to clear it. “But I was just about to…”

You can still feel the urge. Another minute, and you’ll be there. But the longer you wait, the more the feeling fades. It makes you want to punch a wall.

Roger hums. “I know. That’s the point.”

You frown, trying to wrap your head around it. “You… don’t want me to?”

“Not yet.”

It finally clicks. “You’re gonna do that to me a couple more times before you make me come, aren’t you?”

Roger’s smile widens into a grin. “That’s the plan. If you’re on board.”

“I’m on board,” you say. “As long as when I do come, it blows my fucking mind.”

“That’s really the point of it, love.” Roger keeps eye contact with you as he leans forward to press a kiss to your core, and you shudder. “And move your hand away from your mouth. You don’t have to be quiet. The more sounds you make, the better.”

“When am I gonna get my hands on you?” you ask. “I’ve barely even touched your dick yet.”

Roger huffs a laugh, and you can feel his breath against you. “We’re getting there,” he says easily. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Ugh, that’s such a dad thing to say,” you bemoan, lying back down.

Roger laughs again, and then his mouth and hands return to where you so desperately need them. You suck in air through your teeth. “Fuck, Roger.”

Roger moans, and you jerk at the sensation.

He brings you to the edge once more, and, even though you don’t tell him when you’re about to come, he knows, and leaves you hanging once again. So close, so close, but not close enough.

You feel like crying. Or kicking him in the face.

You moan helplessly, slinging an arm over your eyes, your legs trembling as Roger smiles against your thigh – you can feel it. A smug smile that makes your blood boil and your core throb even more than it already is.

Then his fingers push into you for a third time, and his tongue licks through you, but this time it’s slow, painfully slow, not enough to make you come but enough to keep your head lost in the clouds, enough to make your stomach clench and twist, desperately searching for something. It’s enough to make you grind your teeth together. “God, fuck, I need to come,” you sob against the palm of your hand, your thighs trying to clench around Roger’s ears, but his arm is in the way, keeping your hips still.

His tongue drags against your clit, steady and unhurried, and the gasping whine that rips itself from your throat is piercing to your ears. Not even your hand could muffle it.

“There we go,” Roger says, and does it again.

You squirm. “Roger, fuck, please, I wanna come so bad.”

Roger’s fingers still move in and out of you at a leisurely pace, but he uses his mouth to say, “You wanna come?”

“Yes,” you say miserably. “Please, I need to.”

His thumb presses against your clit, and you bite your bottom lip, your body twisting.

“Christ,” Roger breathes. “That’s a fucking sight.”

“Fuck me,” you beg. “Anything, just please.”

Roger takes his hand away, standing and wiping his face on the back of his hand, and you swear. He kicks off his boxer-briefs. His cock is hard and red, swollen, leaking. You sit up and zero in on it like it’s a four-course meal and you haven’t eaten in days. You scramble off the bed, dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Fucking hell,” he says, clearly not expecting you to do that.

“Can I suck you off?” you ask desperately, resisting the urge to just shove your mouth around his dick without further preamble. “I’ll do a good job, I promise. Just tell me what to do. I’m a fast learner.” You curl your fist around him, sucking the head into your mouth.

Roger makes a strangled sound, his hips bucking slightly. “Wait, wait, wait,” he says quickly, guiding your head away with a hand on your head.

You pull back, but keep your hand where it is. “Just fuck my mouth,” you say, gazing up at him. “I dunno how that works, but I can keep it open.” You do so, sticking your tongue out, silently begging with your eyes.

Roger chuckles softly to himself, running a hand through his hair. “You’re gonna make me come just from running your mouth like that.”

You open your mouth wider.

“Or from just doing that,” Roger says. He pries your hand away from his dick, using it to pull you to your feet.

He kisses you, a hungry kiss, a you’re doing so well kiss, and it makes you preen. “But I want to fuck you,” he says. “I’ve had my dick sucked before; you’ve never been fucked.”

“I’ve never sucked a dick before, either, though,” you reason.

“Well, hit me up next time you’re in the neighbourhood,” Roger jokes. Before you can reply, he kisses you again, and you drink him in greedily, palming at his cock until his kisses grow sloppy, messy, more teeth and tongue, and he has to snatch your wrist. “Let me get inside you first,” he growls. “Good God.”

“I like it when you’re bossy,” you say, teasingly.

Roger hums, his eyes dark. “You need that attitude fucked right out of you.”

“Do it,” you say fervently, grinning in delight when he grabs your other wrist as well to stop you from touching him. “Do it, do it, do it. Fuck it right out me. I need it. Never had anyone try to fuck anything out of me before.”

Roger shudders. “Jesus.”

You half-heartedly try to tug your wrists back, but he holds them tightly. “Fuck me till I can’t walk,” you say. “Come on.”

Roger takes a breath, and then lets your wrists go. “Bed. Now.”

You scramble to obey, clenching your thighs together at the sight of Roger. He looks wrecked already, his hair a mess, his skin flushed, his eyes glassy, his lips red. He goes to his bedside table and digs out a bottle of lube and some condoms. “Maybe should check the date on these,” he mutters to himself, and squints at the packets in his hands. After a few moments of peering at them, he sighs in frustration, and reaches for the pair of glasses on the table that you hadn’t noticed before. He slips them on, and then nods at the packets. “They’re fine.”

He goes to take the glasses off, but you say, “Wait, show me.”

He turns to you. “Show you what?”

Fuck, he looks gorgeous in those glasses. They’re large, round ones, with delicate silver frames, and you make a soft sound. “Oh, wow.”

“I know, they’re horrendous,” Roger says, taking off the glasses and setting them down. “My eyesight’s always been shite, but I can’t stand wearing the bloody things.”

“No, you look great,” you say. “So great, in fact, that I need you to get the condom on so you can fuck me literally right now.”

Roger raises his eyebrows. “You what?”

“I’m dying here, Roger,” you say loudly, smacking the bed beside you. “You look hot as fuck in those glasses, and I’m so insanely horny that I’m about to explode. I need your dick in me right now.”

Roger grins, and rips open the condom packet. “All right. Jeez.”

“Let me do it,” you say, crawling over to him and taking the condom from him.

“You’ve ever done it before?” he asks.

“Not since we had to at school when I was, like, fifteen.” You do it carefully, to the best of your memory. Your mouth waters being so close to his cock. “Is this right?”

“Yeah, perfect,” Roger says. “You look incredible, by the way.”

You look up at Roger, and the butterflies return. You’re left momentarily speechless, but it doesn’t matter, because Roger leans down and kisses you. His hand rests against your collarbones, and you get another idea in your head. You rise up into a kneel, keeping his lips on yours, and then you take his hand, pressing it against your throat: a silent invitation.

Roger moans into your mouth, and applies some pressure, just a bit, testing the waters.

It makes your core ache, and you kiss him harder, so he presses harder in return. His palm is warm against your throat, and you keep one hand loosely around his wrist, the other hand in his hair, as it is wont to do.

You end up lying back on the bed, Roger pressing his hand against your throat as you gasp and squirm.

“You like this, don’t you?” Roger says, fingers on his other hand dipping into your folds. “Fuck, feel how wet you are.”

You nod desperately. Your mouth is hanging open, and your head is starting to swim.

“Is that all for me, love?”

You whimper, nodding again. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

Roger lets go of your throat, and you gasp, your eyes wide. “More,” you say immediately. “More. Fuck me like that.”

Roger smiles, keeping his palm against your throat, but brushes his thumb across your skin. His other hand curls around your knee. “Your enthusiasm is… mind-blowing,” he says with a chuckle, “but just take a moment, yeah? You’re all over the shop. Slow down a bit.”

“I don’t wanna slow down,” you protest, grabbing onto his forearm.

“We’ve got time, love. It doesn’t have to be over so quickly.”

“You can’t tease me like that, almost make me come, like, three times, and then tell me to slow down,” you say. “I need you, Roger. Christ, I need you. Show me what it’s like, show me how good my first time can be.”

Roger’s pupils are blown wide, and he lets out a shaky breath. He swallows. “Spread your legs.”

You grin, and do so. Roger lets go of your throat and leans over you on all fours to kiss you briefly. “I’m not choking you while I fuck you,” he says. “I want you to feel all of it, not have your head somewhere else.”

You nod vigorously.

Roger reaches for the lube. You hold out your hand, and he raises an eyebrow at you, but pours some into your hand. You reach forward and slide your fist up and down his cock, spreading the lube. He groans and shudders, and then he says, “That’s enough, that’s enough, I want to fuck you.”

You take your hand away, wiping the lube on the sheets, Roger surges forward to capture your lips with his, and you feel the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. A shot of adrenaline explodes within you.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Roger says, and you nod.

Then, slowly, he pushes into you, just an inch or two. You gasp at the stretch, gripping onto his arms, your mouth wide.

Roger stills, and nuzzles at your throat. “You okay?”

“Mm-hm,” you say, biting your lip. “Keep… Keep going.”

He does, rocking in shallowly, just going a little further each time. He’s panting against your neck, and you can feel your sweat pricking your skin. You can’t help but admire Roger’s back, the way the muscles move.

It feels good. Once you get over the initial shock to the system of having something that size inside you, you realise why you were so excited to get to this in the first place.

“I’m good,” you say, nails absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck. “It– It doesn’t hurt or anything.”

“You sure?” Roger asks, kissing your neck softly.

You can’t help but laugh. “Roger, for the love of all things holy, fuck me.”

He doesn’t need another invitation. He slams into you, and your eyes go wide, a tiny sound of surprise leaping out of you.

“Sorry,” Roger says, raising his head to kiss you in apology.

“Don’t fucking apologise, it feels good,” you say back. “Come on, come on.”

Roger laughs, and kisses you. You can feel his laughter against your lips, feel the way his smile changes the shape of his mouth, and that dangerously warm feeling in the pit of your stomach returns.

You could get used to this. Get used to Roger laughing against your lips as he’s buried inside you. Get used to teasing him, to turning him on, to rolling around in his bed.

As soon as the thoughts creep into your mind, you banish them. That’s not happening, you tell yourself harshly. This is a one-and-done deal. You can’t develop feelings for a man you’ve only met once. A man who is, by the way, in case you’ve forgotten, sixteen years older than you.

Then Roger pulls out halfway and drives back into you, and all you can think about is his dick.

Your hand goes back to your mouth, just like before, keeping yourself quiet as you moan and whimper. Your ankles hook over the small of Roger’s back.

But then Roger pauses, sitting up, and he unwraps your legs from around him and pushes one of your knees flat on the bed, keeping you spread out wide. “Hands away from your mouth, love,” he says. “Let me hear you. It’s okay, you can let go.”

Your face burns, and you cover it with both of your hands. It’s too big of an ask. You’ve never felt more vulnerable. “Roger…”

“[Y/N].”

You lower your hands. He’s watching you, his blue eyes burning with desire, but they’re soft, too. Understanding.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he says. “Hold onto the sheets, yeah? Can you do that for me?”

You nod, and, with no small amount of effort, let your arms go by your sides, your fists wrapping in the sheets.

Roger smiles. “You’re amazing.”

You turn your head away, overwhelmed.

“Eyes on me. Hey.”

You look back at him. Exposed. You’re exposed, in every sense of the word.

Roger braces himself on the bed beside your ribs, and, keeping one hand on your knee, holding it down, he starts fucking into you again, hard and deep.

The sound you make could best be described as a mewl, and it’s a sound you’ve never heard yourself make before. Your hands tighten in the sheets, fighting the urge to cover your face again. Roger’s eyes are still on yours, and it’s too much, you want to look away, but you can’t.

“So good for me,” Roger pants. “Fuck. God, you’re incredible.”

You whine. “Roger.”

“That’s it, love. Say my name.”

He thrusts into you at just the right angle, making your back arch. “Roger.”

Roger groans, and he lets go of your knee to circle his fingers around your clit. You gasp, your eyes finally breaking away from his to look to the ceiling, feeling yourself climbing rapidly for the fourth time that night.

“Let me come, let me come, please,” you beg, your arms straining as your fists pull on the sheets.

Roger leans forward again to kiss you, a mess of heavy breathing and tongues and lips brushing. You let go of the sheets to clutch onto him, pawing at his shoulders and back and hips, unable to settle on where you want to hold him.

One hand inevitably slides into his hair, and you grip onto it, tugging it hard. Roger’s rhythm stutters, and he groans out your name.

His fingers feel so fucking good, and, doubled with the way he’s stretched you out, tripled with how he edged you before, you just know how hard you’re going to come. You can feel it building deeper within you than you’ve ever felt before, like an impending tsunami.

Roger readjusts, sitting back again, his brow furrowed as he searches for just the right spot to hit you.

When he does, you cry out. “Right there, right there, fuck.”

Your hands scrabble for purchase, and one finds your own hair, burying itself, and you don’t pull, but you keep a firm grip on it, the slight pain being the only thing keeping you from losing yourself entirely. Your other hand finds the same spot as before in the sheets, and you sob, screwing your eyes shut.

“You close?” Roger asks, and you nod.

“Say it out loud, love.”

“Yes, I’m so close, I’m so close,” you gasp. You’re almost there, you can feel it, only inches away, moments away.

“Open your eyes, come on.”

You do, and meet his gaze. “Roger,” you whimper.

“You gonna come for me?”

“Y-yeah.”

“I wanna hear it, yeah? Wanna see you. See you come undone on my cock.”

And that’s the final nail in the coffin. You orgasm pulses through you, so hard that you convulse, and you wail, blurting out Roger’s name, clenching down on him. Your blood roars in your ears, and you’ve never come so hard in your life.

Roger moans out, “Fuck,” and then pumps once, twice more, and then comes, groaning your name, a shudder ripping through him.

When he comes back to himself, blinking his big blue eyes at you, you can’t help but think he looks otherworldly. His face, pink, shines with sweat, as does his whole body. Locks of hair stick to his forehead, his temples. His mouth hangs open, and his chest heaves, and maybe it’s the ten-out-of-ten orgasm you just had, but in that moment, you kinda want to marry him.

He takes the hand you’ve tangled in the sheets, and presses a kiss to your wrist. Your heart just about explodes. “You all right?”

You splutter. “All right? The fuck’s that meant to mean?”

Roger smiles, massaging the palm of your hand with his thumb. “I mean, are you hurting anywhere?”

My heart hurts from you being all hot and perfect and stupidly romantic, you think. “No,” you say. “I’m just fine.”

He pulls out of you, carefully, and it does nothing but reignite a spark of arousal within you. Then he collapses onto the bed beside you with an unmistakable dad noise, and takes off the spent condom, tying it off and tossing it into the rubbish bin beside his bed. When that’s done, he wastes no time in rolling onto his side and pulling you in for a kiss. You hum happily, shifting closer to him, not even caring about the sweat and how wet you are all over your inner thighs.

When he breaks away, he says, “So. How do you feel?”

“Like I just had the biggest orgasm of my life,” you say.

Roger chuckles. “I meant now that you’re, y’know…”

It clicks. “Now I’ve lost my virginity?” you say playfully. “Had my sexual debut? I’ve become a woman?”

“Not that any of it matters, of course,” Roger adds. “But it’s still… It can be a big thing.”

You give him a soft kiss. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter,” you say. “Virginity is nothing but a social construct and all of that.”

“Of course,” Roger reiterates.

“But I feel… happy.” You hope your grin isn’t as cheesy as it feels. “It’s nice to not have to… worry about it anymore, I suppose? I don’t know if I was really worrying about it before, but it… I don’t know.” You shrug. “I just had a really good time. That’s all that matters.”

“Good.” Roger’s hand goes to your hip, squeezing it. “I’m glad.”

“Did…” You lick your lips. “Did you have a good time?”

“Did I have a good time?” Roger repeats, almost aghast. “Are you joking?”

“Even though I had no idea what I was doing?”

“You’re a natural.”

You laugh. Your stomach squirms – both because of those ridiculous maybe-almost-could-be feelings, and because, even though you know in your mind that the whole sex part of the evening is over, your body certainly isn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.

Your thighs clench together, but you do your best to hide how it feels. You don’t want to be greedy.

Roger feels your thighs move under his hand, though, and he looks to you questioningly. “Are you still–”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you say lightly, shaking your head. “I was just moving around.”

Roger pauses, and then says, “All right.” He kisses you, and then takes a moment to gather his energy before he sits up. “I’ll get us some water.” He turns to you, pointing a finger at you, as if something just occurred to him. “You should go pee.”

Your eyes widen, and you nod. “Oh, yes, good thinking.”

“Bathroom’s just there,” he says, gesturing across the room at the closed door.

“You have an en suite?”

“Well, yeah. Much easier when there’s kids around.” His face falls a little. “Not that I’ve had the kids here very often recently, but uh…”

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head. “Sorry. It’s fine. Great way to bring down the mood, eh?” He leans down again to kiss you, and then stands up, stretching. “Be back in a mo’.”

You watch him, your gaze hawk-like, as he pulls on his neon-green underwear and disappears out the door, raking his hand through his hair as he goes.

Your thighs clench together again, and you whimper.

You try to push it aside, and slide off the bed to go the bathroom, pulling on your underwear as you go. You don’t exactly feel like putting your push-up bra back on, but you don’t want to just lounge around completely naked. Would it be too presumptuous to put on Roger’s shirt?

You bite your lip, considering, and then decide to just bite the bullet, slipping it on and buttoning it up. It’s comfy, and smells like him; you understand why women in movies do it now. You do have to call bullshit on wearing a man’s shirt like a short, cute dress though – it’s more just like a long shirt, and you’re glad you’ve chosen to put on underwear.

It feels odd to pee in a stranger’s house – even odder that it’s an en suite – but you’re thankful that you get a moment to properly gather yourself in private, instead of while being surrounded by the smell of sex.

It’s when you’re washing your hands that you finally get a look at yourself in the mirror. Your mouth drops open in horror.

You look like a fucking mess. Your foundation is patchy where you get oily and where you’ve sweated it off, and there’s a slight ring of smudged mascara under your eyes – honestly, you’re thankful that it’s not worse, and that your setting spray did at least something. Your hair, though, is the worst of it all. You look like you’ve been dragged through a bush backwards.

“Oh, shit,” you whisper to yourself. What can you do? You don’t have any make-up with you to try to fix the problems, but you can’t exactly take it off, either. You have no way to fix your hair. You untie it from the ponytail it was in and try to smooth it out, but it doesn’t really do much, so you tie it back up again, but it’s a shitty ponytail, so you untie it and try again. Then you try a third time, and give up, settling on the disaster that it is, and grab a tissue, blotting at your make-up.

You sigh, staring at your reflection. Well, fuck. What the fuck are you meant to do? How the hell can you go back into the bedroom, knowing you look like this?

“[Y/N]?” Roger calls. “You all right in there, love?”

You shiver. God, the way he says the word ‘love’. The way he says your name.

You clear your throat. “Um, yeah, I’m– I’m fine. Just…” You can’t say you’re still peeing. Oh, fuck, what if he thinks you’re taking a shit or something? “I’m just fixing up my make-up.”

“I think there might still be some make-up wipes in a drawer somewhere, if you want to have a look,” Roger says. “Maybe they’re no good anymore, I’m not sure.”

You have a dig around, and find a packet. It’s already been opened, quite a while ago by the looks of it. Must be Roger’s ex-wife’s.

The thought of that sits weirdly with you, but you’re not quite sure why. Almost like you feel like you’re intruding, maybe. You certainly don’t feel like you belong here, in this bougie, nice house.

You sigh again, and pull out a handful of make-up wipes, seeing if there’s any that still hold any moisture. One in the middle has a little bit, so you carefully run it under your eyes, and lightly tap it over your forehead and down your neck to soothe your skin, fixing up any problem areas as best you can without it being too obvious that you’ve just wiped off the make-up.

The end result is fine. Not good, and certainly not great, but… yeah. Fine.

You throw the make-up wipes into the bin, take a deep breath, and exit the bathroom.

Roger’s on his phone, and he looks up when he hears the door open. His face goes slack when he sees you. “You’re wearing my shirt?”

“Isn’t that what girls are meant to do after sex?” you joke.

“I just haven’t seen, um, anyone do that in… in a long time,” he says, somewhat stilted, and he glances down at his hands. He quickly turns his eyes back to you. “It looks good. Really good.”

“Thank you,” you say, and pad over to the bedside table near him, where he has two glasses of water waiting. “Which one’s mine?”

“On the left.” Roger sets his phone down and watches you as you take a sip of water.

He’s close to you, and, like before you kissed for the first time, you’re hyperaware of every movement. But he barely moves, just waits for you.

When you put the water down, you hesitate. You want to climb on top of him, kiss him, feeling his arms around you again, but is that too much? Does he want you to go? Are you overstaying your welcome?

“You all right?” he asks gently.

You nod. “Um, yeah,” you say, and take a step back. “You probably, um, have work or something tomorrow, so I should go.”

You don’t miss the way Roger’s face falls a bit. “Oh, you want to go?”

No. “Well, it– I don’t want to impose…”

“If you want to go, then I’ll order an Uber for you,” Roger says. “But don’t feel like you have to go if you don’t want to.”

The Amazonian butterflies are back yet again. “I…”

“Because – and correct me if I’m wrong,” Roger says, reaching out and tugging on his shirt, pulling you closer, and you go without any resistance, “but I think you were telling a bit of a fib before, when you said you were… what did you say? Just moving around?”

You press your lips together as Roger guides you between his legs, and he tilts his head back to gaze up at you. He smiles at the look on your face. “Am I right?”

You can feel your face heating up again. “No,” you mumble unconvincingly, hiding your smile behind your hand.

“No hands over mouths,” Roger murmurs, reaching up and taking yours. “You don’t have to hide.”

Fuck. Oh, fuck. His voice sounds like a warm fireplace feels, and you barely even know him, but you’ve never felt safer, more comfortable, around a man. You can’t pretend now – you’re really starting to like him.

Roger raises his eyebrows at you, just a touch, searching your face. “So? Am I right?”

“It’s fine,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m fine, really. You’ve done plenty, I… I can’t ask for more.”

Roger hums, and presses a kiss to your palm before letting your hand go. “All right, okay,” he says. “I was wrong, I see. Can I at least tell you what I’d do to you if I had been right?”

You breathe in shakily, and nod once.

The corner of Roger’s mouth quirks up. “Well,” he says slowly, “first I’d kiss you, of course. And, as hot as you look wearing nothing but my shirt and your knickers, I’d undress you again. Get you lying down on your back, all spread out for me. I’d kiss you some more. Then I think I’d choke you, because you seem to like that a lot, yeah?”

You nod, hypnotised.

Roger nods as well. “Right. And then, while I was holding you down by your throat–”

You gulp.

“–I’d get my other hand, and I’d–”

“Okay, yes, you were right,” you blurt out, and grab his face, ducking down to kiss him desperately. He kisses you with just as much hunger, and nudges you a few steps back, giving him enough room so he can stand up and start unbuttoning the shirt. As soon as he’s done, your shrug it from your shoulders, and Roger pulls you closer by your ass. One hand moves to cup your jaw, his tongue pressing against yours. It doesn’t take long before the hand shifts to your throat, and you whimper softly, urging him to tighten his grip.

He does, and the feeling of it goes straight to your core. Your hands clutch at him frantically.

He lets go of your throat, and you suck in a gasp, then latch onto his neck, kissing and nipping and sucking at his skin, licking off the salty traces of sweat.

“Careful, love, careful,” he says shakily. “I can’t turn up to work looking like I’ve been attacked by a vacuum.”

You huff, but soften your kisses. He moans under his breath, and you don��t think you’ve ever heard anything hotter.

Soon, you break away, and crawl back onto the bed, and he follows you, positioning himself on all fours above you to kiss you deeply, his knee slotting into between your thighs. He presses it against your core, and you instinctively grind against it, shuddering when it fires an electric shock of arousal through your system. Roger shifts, readjusting his balance so he can bring his hand back to your throat, and you welcome it. You grind against his leg again.

It’s when you have to stop kissing him, your brain going into overdrive trying to force you to focus on breathing, you have to breathe, that Roger sits back, moving his leg out of the way and replacing it with his other hand.

“Fuck, Roger,” you gasp, twitching under his grip, your hands vice-like on his forearm. Your eyes slide closed, revelling in the way your head swims, the way your body fights to suck as much oxygen as it can into your lungs. You’re still so wet from before, still so stretched out, that Roger slides two fingers into you at the same time with ease, and you let out a stuttering moan, bucking your hips into his hand. His fingers swirl around your clit, hitting it in just the right way, and within minutes you’re almost there.

“Most people think the best part about getting choked is the actual ‘getting choked’ part,” Roger says out of the blue, and you frown, trying to follow, opening your eyes.

“Hear me out,” Roger says casually, pushing his fingers back into you and flicking your clit with his thumb, and you whine. “Are you close, love?”

You nod.

Roger hums. “You look so good like this. Does it feel good?”

You nod again. “Mm-hm.”

“Yeah, looks like it does. Looks like you enjoy it.”

“Ah, Roger, please.”

“It’s all right, love, I’ve got you.” Roger’s fingers quicken their pace, and you make a sound, squirming.

“As I was saying,” Roger continues, “people think the best part of getting choked is actually getting choked. But it’s not. The best part of it is actually being let go. Do you want to see?”

You nod, barely even listening to what he’s saying. You’re too close to coming to pay attention.

And then Roger lets go of your throat at the same time he brushes your clit, and a rush of oxygen flows into your lungs, a rush of blood flows back to your head, and your orgasm slams into you, and the world seems so much brighter in that moment. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you gasp, your back arching, your eyes wide.

It feels like it goes on for a lifetime, although perhaps that’s just your mind trying to sort itself out. When you do finally start to come down from your high, you realise you’re shaking, and Roger is grinning at you. You blink at him owlishly.

“Wh– Huh?” you breathe, your heart racing, and Roger laughs.

“So you’re alive, then,” he teases, and leans down to kiss you.

You grab onto him, kissing him soundly, and roll the both of you over, so you’re straddling him. You just stay like that, just making out, letting the frenzied kisses lull themselves into something slower, something calmer. Just kissing for the sake of it. Roger’s hands stroke up and down your back, and you could almost fall asleep like this.

Speaking of falling asleep – you have to break away, hiding your yawn by tucking your face into his chest. Roger hums, and you can feel it vibrating against your body. You smile. “Sorry,” you mumble.

“Can hardly blame you,” Roger says, his voice low. “It’s late.”

You let yourself slump against him, a moment of pure self-indulgence, and then roll to the side, dumping yourself onto the bed. You groan, unable to stop yourself from instinctively shifting into a more comfortable position for sleeping, your arm beneath your head like a pillow, your eyes closing.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, muffled by your arm. “I’ll leave in a minute.”

Roger says nothing, and you feel your stomach coil in guilt. God, he wanted you to leave fifteen minutes ago, didn’t he? He was just too polite to say anything. And then you pressured him into making you come again, because you were too selfish to know when enough was enough. Great, fucking great, you’ve fucked it all up, and you’re a huge piece of shit, and you–

“Did you want to stay the night?” Roger asks tentatively.

Your eyes fly open, and you shift up onto your elbow. “What?” you say. “Stay?”

Roger glances away from you. “It– It was just a suggestion,” he says. “Just an idea, I don’t know. I, um – it’s just late, and I don’t want you travelling all that way on your own. You can, obviously, if you want to, that’s up to you, I just…”

You’re hardly even listening. You’re still struggling to drink in the first thing he said. “You want me to stay?” you ask.

Roger looks to you, and bites his bottom lip. “If– Well, if you want to, then, um, yes, I’d like you to. But only if you want to.”

You beam, and your heart triples in size. “Um, yes. I’d like to.”

Roger smiles back. “Good. Great. That’s–” He clears his throat. “Did you want to have a shower?”

“I think so,” you say with a laugh. “I’m…” You went to say I’m so disgusting right now, but you don’t want to fuck up your now-sleepover before it’s even properly begun. “Yes please.”

“Well, you know where the bathroom is,” Roger says, nodding towards the en suite. “There’s a spare toothbrush in the drawer, if I remember correctly. I’ll get you a towel.”

“You’re not coming into the shower with me?” you ask coyly.

Roger blinks, and you laugh.

“Oh,” he says. “You were joking.”

“I wasn’t,” you say. “You just made me laugh.”

Roger swoops down to steal a kiss, and you don’t let him leave, pushing up into him, stealing a few kisses back.

“Let me get you a towel,” he says, and then climbs off the bed and pads out of the room.

You bite on your finger to stop yourself from making some stupid giggle, or maybe a dumb squealing sound like a little girl. He asked you to stay the night. He wants you to stay the night.

Oh, shit, you realise, your finger dropping from your mouth. Justine. You never told her what was happening.

Where’s your phone? In the living room. Spitting out a curse, you pull on your underwear and Roger’s shirt again, and hurry out. You run into Roger, arms full of sheets, in the hallway. “Hey, is everything all right?” he says. “What did you forget?”

“I never told my roommate I wasn’t coming home,” you say. “Last she heard, I was about to book an Uber.”

Roger’s eyes go a little wider. “Shit, whoops. Yeah, go tell her.”

You shoot him a smile, and scurry off to the living room. Your phone is on the couch, and you snatch it up. Wow, shit, it is late. You’re glad you only have an afternoon lecture tomorrow.

Thankfully, just one message from Justine, from about half an hour ago. hey, haven’t heard from u in a while. just send me a message when u get this ok? xx

You respond. fuck sorry, left my phone in the other room. I have SO MUCH to tell u omg, but in a nutshell uhh we ended up sleeping together, it was fucking amazing, and now he’s asked me to stay over, so ill see u at uni tomorrow maybe? if not then at home xx

You keep your phone in hand, and head back to Roger’s room. He’s started cleaning up in the minute you were gone, stripping the bed. Fresh sheets sit on the floor. “What’s this?” you ask.

“I’m making the bed,” Roger says simply, tugging a pillow from its case. “I’m too old to be sleeping on sheets I’ve just had sex on. Let me tell you, it makes a difference. And the sheets were due for a change, anyway.”

You step forward. “Well, let me help.”

“Don’t be silly, jump in the shower.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You set your phone down beside his on the bedside table, and together the two of you help remake his bed.

Roger chases you into the shower then, and says he’s going to tidy up the room a little more before he joins you. “I’m on a roll now,” he says, picking up your shoes from where you kicked them aside during the bed-making. “Can’t stop, won’t stop.”

You take the make-up wipes. The door is about halfway open, and you can hear Roger moving around, hear when he trips over something and hisses out a curse, making you smile.

The make-up wipe freezes in the air near your eye. You can’t very well have a shower and go to bed without taking your make-up off – it does not make even a vague semblance of a pretty picture – but this is… way more intimate than you were expecting. Why didn’t you think of this when you agreed to stay over? Roger’s going to see you without your make-up on, with your hair tied up in a bun. He’s going to see you in the morning, all bleary-eyed and disgusting. Fuck, morning breath. You have the spare clothes you brought that you can change into tomorrow, but no extra underwear. Nothing to wear tonight. It’s a miracle that Roger even has a spare toothbrush. What time does he get up for work? Will he expect you to leave before he wakes up?

Are you a one-night-stand? Is that what this is? Are you asked to stay the night if you’re nothing but a one-night-stand, or does the fact that he asked you mean something else?

“Is your roommate all right?” Roger asks, coming to the door, leaning against the doorjamb. “No freak-outs?”

You lower the make-up wipe. “Um, no. It’s all fine, I think.”

“Have you found the toothbrush?”

“No, I haven’t checked yet.”

Roger moves around you, pulling open the drawer and rummaging through. “Ah, here it is. Still in the packet! How good am I?”

You smile as he presents it to you like it’s a medal of honour. “Thanks.”

“Sorry about the make-up wipes,” Roger says. “They’re not great.” He huffs, and then leans against the edge of the sink, rubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m… I’m actually really nervous.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Nervous?” you repeat. “About what?”

“About… you staying over,” he confesses. “It’s been, I don’t know, ten years since I’ve had anyone new sleep over. My brain is suddenly filled with every annoying thing I do when I sleep. And I look awful in the mornings, let me tell you. If you think I look bad now, just you wait.”

“Who says I think you look bad now?” you say. “I thought I made it perfectly clear that I think you’re a hot piece of ass, Roger.”

Roger splutters, flustered, and you grin.

“I move around a lot,” he says. “When I sleep. So be prepared to cop an elbow to the face.”

“Don’t you worry, I’m a heavy sleeper,” you say. “And I move around, too.”

“I run hot,” Roger adds. “I’m like a space heater. And sometimes I talk in my sleep, but only when I’m really stressed about something, like work. I can be really very clingy.”

“I run cold,” you say with a shrug. “So clingy suits me fine.”

Roger pauses, staring at you, like he wasn’t expecting an answer like that. Then he snaps out of it, glancing away. “Sorry,” he says for a third time.

“Don’t apologise,” you say, shaking your head. “You don’t have to. I’m nervous, too. Like, really fucking nervous. I’m– I’m too nervous to even take my make-up off.”

Roger’s eyes search your face. “I won’t care what you look like,” he says gently. “I’m sorry that you feel nervous about taking it off. But it won’t matter, I promise.”

“Just wait and see,” you joke in a sing-song voice.

Roger is silent for a few moments, and then he says, “Well, I hope you’re ready. I’m going to kiss the bloody daylight out of you when you take it off.”

You don’t know how to respond. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m going to. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable without make-up on. And if that means I have to keep kissing you all night as a reminder that it doesn’t matter what you look like without make-up, then that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

You duck your head, making a disgruntled sound. Why does he have to say cute shit like that? Why must he make you suffer?

Roger pushes the packet of make-up wipes a little closer to you, waggles his eyebrows at you, making you giggle, and then reaches across you for his toothbrush.

You start wiping off your make-up.

Roger waits until you’ve finished taking it off, until you’ve brushed your teeth, until you’re well and truly left without anything to do, and then he cups your face in his hands and does exactly what he promised he’d do.

One steamy make-out session and one far-too-long shower later, you’re sitting on the newly-made bed, wrapping in a towel, the strands of hair that slipped loose from your bun sticking to your neck and temples. You’re watching Roger pull on a pair of underwear and rifle through his chest of drawers. He pulls out a huge shirt, clearly worn and well-loved, and turns to you, holding it out. “I went on a day trip once to Brighton,” he says. “We were out to a pub and I spilled red wine all over my shirt. Had to buy a new one. Sent one of my mates to get it for me and he came back with this. Hence why I have a shirt about five sizes too big for me.”

“You didn’t have to explain,” you say with a chuckle, taking it from him.

“I feel like I did,” Roger says. “I, um, usually use it as a sleep shirt when I travel.”

You slip it on, and then stand up, letting your towel drop to the floor. The shirt is long enough to cover everything, but you’re not about to bend down any time soon.

You glance over at your underwear, where they’re in a pile near the door. Should you put them back on?

“Please don’t,” Roger blurts.

You look to him. “Huh?”

His face goes red. “Um. I just– I– You– I saw you look over there, and–” He rubs his hand along his jaw. “I, um…” He looks to the ceiling, and says it in a rush. “I’m sorry this sounds awful but I saw you looking over at your knickers and I don’t want you to put them on because you look really hot wearing my shirt and the thought of you wearing nothing underneath makes my brain explode.”

“You’re one to talk,” you say, “standing in front of me in nothing but a pair of boxers like that doesn’t make my brain explode.”

Roger’s eyes flick towards yours, and he breaks out into a smile, and then laughs. “I guess we’re even, then.”

“We’ll be truly even when I see you wearing my clothes,” you say teasingly.

Roger steps in close, his hands coming to your waist. “I don’t think your dress would fit properly, love.”

“I’ll have to come better prepared next time,” you say, and Roger hums, leaning in to give you a kiss.

Next time. Next time. You said ‘next time’. Talk about presumptuous. Christ! What is wrong with you?

You break away. “Not that I think there’ll be a next time,” you say quickly. No. Bad phrasing. “I don’t want to assume there’ll be a next time.” Still bad. “I don’t want you to think that I think there has to be a next time.” Even worse. “I don’t want you to feel obliged to have a next time if you don’t want there to be.” Better. Not great, but passable.

“I want a next time,” Roger says. “If you want one.”

“I do,” you say, God, far too eager. “I’d really like there to be a next time.”

“Me too,” Roger says.

You press into him for another kiss, and then, finally, the two of you make it to bed.

Once you’re under the covers, you almost fall asleep immediately. You didn’t realise how exhausted you are. Roger reaches over and switches off the light, and then wraps an arm around your stomach, his front against your spine. You allow yourself to smile freely in the dark, even as your eyes close and you drift off to sleep.

~~~

“I’m… I’m going to send you the rest of the payment,” Roger says. He’s dressed for work, just in a white dress shirt and black slacks, and you’d been admiring him and enjoying the coffee he’d made you after you’d gotten out of the shower. It’s early – too early, for both of you.

But now your stomach drops, and you lower your mug of coffee from your lips. “You are?”

“Yes,” Roger says.

“You don’t have to,” you say. “I said it last night, I don’t care about the money.”

“I know,” Roger says. “But it’s still right. You started this whole thing to help pay the bills, and it’s not your fault that there was that whole mix-up. You don’t deserve to miss out on getting the money you’ve rightfully earned.”

“You don’t deserve to fork out that much money because of that whole mix-up,” you say. “You’ve already paid half of it. And it’s– it’s quite a fair bit, Roger.”

“I can afford to pay it,” Roger says. “I’m living more than comfortably. Giving you the money you’ve earned would just mean that I can’t, I don’t know, travel overseas this year.” He raises his eyebrows a touch. “Well, now that I might not have to be paying for three kids as well, maybe I’ll still be able to afford to go.” He shakes his head. “That’s beside the… My point is, I can afford it. And you deserve it.”

You don’t know what to say. “Roger…”

“Just let me,” he says earnestly. “Please. I want to.”

You open and close your mouth a few times. God, you’d be mad to turn down the money. But it doesn’t feel right. Does it? You don’t even know what to think.

You glance down at your mug. “All right,” you say quietly, so much so that you’re not even sure if he can hear you. But you can’t bring yourself to speak any louder. “Thank you, Roger.”

“Hey.”

You look up at him, and he smiles. “You can pay me back by letting me take you out to dinner.”

Your face immediately grows hot. “Suave motherfucker,” you say, and he laughs.

“I still have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he says playfully.

Your stomach squeezes. “Sure,” you say. “But I’m paying.”

Roger snorts. “Not bloody likely.”

“I’ll fight you for the cheque, don’t think I won’t.”

“Maybe I’ll just sneakily pay for it before you’ve even realised.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Can we settle on going Dutch?”

Roger sips his coffee. “All right,” he says eventually.

“Good.”

He takes out his phone, holding it out to you. “Text me some time during this week,” he says. “About where you want to go. Or just text me if you want to say hi. Or call me. Y’know, whatever.”

You tilt your head to the side as you take his phone. “That wasn’t quite as suave, I have admit.”

Roger sighs. “Damn.”

You laugh, and send a quick text to yourself, then slide the phone back to him.

He seems extremely pleased, but he takes a casual drink from his coffee like he’s trying to hide it, and you can’t help but think it’s horribly cute.

He shoots a glance at you, and sees you grinning at him, and his cheeks turn pink, and he clears his throat, turning away to the sink to rinse his mug out.

~~~

You’re at uni, half-asleep, shuffling back to the bus stop after your never-ending lecture, when Justine barrels into you, grabbing your elbow so tightly that you yelp. “What the fuck happened last night?” she exclaims.

You don’t know why it hadn’t been awkward this morning. Apart from the money conversation. There had still been some nervousness, on your part anyway, but Roger had been too focused on getting ready for work to let any uncomfortable silences hang. You have to admit that it had been nice to wake up with someone’s arm around you, and you had been quietly delighted to see Roger fussing over the faint bruises on his neck, pulling up his shirt collar and adjusting his tie to try to cover them. After you’d both gotten ready for the day, he’d dropped you at the nearest bus stop. “And I will text you,” he’d said seriously. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Good,” you’d said. “I’ll be waiting for it. Three days is the general rule, right?”

Roger had groaned. “Don’t make me wait three days.”

You had chuckled. “I’m not making you do anything.” You’d hesitated, and then said, “Is it weird if I kiss you before I go?”

Roger had taken a breath. “I… wouldn’t say so, no.”

So you’d leant in and kissed him, and he’d kissed you back, and you’d wanted to keep kissing him, but a car had pulled up behind you and honked, so you’d drawn back, whispered, “Bye,” and gotten out of the car.

Once you’d figured out how to get home, you’d crashed, sleeping until your alarm had woken you up again for your lecture.

“Stuff,” you say to Justine.

“Stuff?” Justine squawks. “Don’t give me that shit. You have to tell me literally everything, or I’m going to kill you. Come on.” She loops her arm through yours, and starts towing you towards the bus stop.

Your phone buzzes, and you pull it out of your pocket.

I know it hasn’t been three days, but it’s been more than three hours. Is that enough time, do you think?

You smile, reply, I think so, yeah, then quickly pocket the phone before Justine can sneak a glance as Amazonian butterflies flutter around in your stomach.

#queen fanfiction #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #rpf #mine #smut

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