#edit: there is SOME meaning in this but only if you squint

[mingi-s-dimples]

Under their control - sanhwa

KINKTOBER DAY 22, REQ. BY anon

~"Would love a mommy!hwa x female reader x daddy!San fic! Hwa's not female, he just has a maternal vibe/ aura. The reader lives with them and is their (human)pet. They like to dress the reader in cute lingerie and collar and leash. A fic where the reader is getting punished for something (you can decide what) and they keep denying her orgasm. Some size kink, double penetration, fake sympathy, pet names. Thank you!"

pairing: mommy soft dom!seonghwa x fem reader x daddy rough dom!san

genre: 18+, filth, mommy/daddy bdsm trope

summary: you get on San's nerves again... which has always proved to not be a good idea.

wc: 7.1k

warnings: harsh/rough dom!san, soft dom!seonghwa, daddy!san, mommy!seonghwa, denied orgasms, pussy eating, marking, making out, double penetration, collar and leash, slight size kink, fake sympathy, lots of cum in the end, a crumb of aftecare in the end, teasing, pet names (kitten, darling, sweetheart..), ass spanking, unprotected, completely consensual, blowjob, handjob, for sure forgot something.. will edit 'warnings' later.

Author's Note: I looveeed writing this one... you can tell by the number of words LMAO. I hope you like it anon.. I'm sorry it took me fucking ages (I'm sorry to everyone ajsnda). I hope y'all like it <3 i love youuu

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the members.

The sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains of the shared bedroom, casting soft golden streaks across the plush duvet. The atmosphere was a mixture of warmth and tranquility, the faint scent of lavender lingering from the candle Seonghwa had lit the previous night. You stirred, shifting against the soft bedding, your cheek brushing the smooth pillowcase.

“Good morning, baby,” came Seonghwa’s voice, gentle and melodic, as he entered the room. His arms cradled a tray holding a cup of tea and a small plate with neatly arranged fruit slices. “It’s time to wake up.”  

You blinked, squinting against the morning light, and smiled sleepily at the sight of him. He was always the first to greet you in the mornings, his nurturing presence like a soothing balm. He set the tray down on the nightstand, leaning in to press a feather-light kiss to your forehead.  

“How did my little one sleep?” he asked, brushing stray strands of hair from your face.  

“Good,” you murmured, your voice still groggy. You nuzzled into his touch, relishing the tenderness he always exuded.  

“You have a busy day ahead,” he reminded, his lips curving into a small smile. “San wants you ready and downstairs in half an hour. You know how he feels about being late.”  

San. Just the mention of him sent a small shiver down your spine—not entirely out of fear, but because of the way his presence filled every room he walked into. Where Seonghwa was soft and soothing, San was sharp, commanding. You felt the dichotomy of their dynamics every day, a constant interplay of comfort and authority.  

“I’ll get up,” you promised, sitting up slowly and letting the blankets pool around your waist.  

Seonghwa nodded, pleased with your obedience. “Good girl,” he said softly.  

—

By the time you reached the kitchen, the smell of coffee had filled the space. San was already there, standing by the counter in a crisp black shirt that fit him a little too perfectly. He glanced up when you entered, his dark eyes immediately locking onto you.  

“You’re late,” he said, his tone even but with that familiar edge of authority.  

Your heart sank. You’d only taken a few extra minutes, but with San, those small delays were never overlooked.  

“I—I didn’t mean to,” you stammered, casting a quick glance at Seonghwa, who had taken a seat by the table and was watching the interaction unfold with a faint smile.  

San’s brow arched, and he stepped closer, his presence looming in a way that made your pulse quicken. “Didn’t mean to?” he repeated, his voice laced with mock sympathy. “Sweetheart, how many times have we talked about this?”  

You fidgeted, your fingers twisting together. “A lot,” you admitted quietly.  

“And yet here you are.” He reached out, lifting your chin with two fingers so that you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “What am I supposed to do with you, kitten? Hmm?”  

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you offered weakly.  

San’s lips curved into a smirk that was anything but kind. “Oh, darling. You’ll be sorry, alright?”  

Seonghwa let out a soft chuckle from his seat, his voice lilting with amusement. “Be gentle, San. You know how sensitive she is.”  

San shot him a look, but it was devoid of any real irritation. “Oh, I’ll be gentle,” he said, his attention returning to you. “At least at first.”  

— 

The mistake had been minor in the grand scheme of things, but San never let the small things slide. It was his way of keeping you in line, as he so often reminded you.  

“Upstairs. Now,” he ordered, his voice firm.  

You hesitated for a split second, but the sharpness in his eyes spurred you into motion. You turned and hurried up the stairs, your heart pounding in anticipation.  

By the time you reached the bedroom, you could already hear his measured footsteps behind you. Seonghwa had stayed behind in the kitchen, but you knew he would come up eventually. He always liked to play the role of the sympathetic observer or maybe join in, offering soft words of comfort after San was done.  

San closed the door behind him with a deliberate click, the sound sending a jolt of nervous energy through you.  

“On the bed,” he instructed, his voice low.  

You obeyed, climbing onto the bed and sitting back on your heels. Your collar—a delicate, silver chain adorned with a small charm—felt heavier around your neck under his intense gaze. You'd always wear it whenever you were at home for a couple of days, free of work.

“Do you know why you’re being punished?” he asked, crossing his arms as he stood at the foot of the bed.  

“Yes,” you replied softly.  

“Yes, what?”  

“Yes, Daddy.”  

His smirk widened, pleased by your submission. “That’s right, baby girl.”  

He moved closer, his hand reaching out to trail a finger along the edge of your collar. “This little thing,” he murmured, his tone deceptively soft, “means you follow the rules. Doesn’t it?”  

You nodded, your breath hitching as his finger traced down to the hollow of your throat.  

“And what happens when you break the rules?” he pulls you by yourbneck

“I get punished,” you whispered.  

“That’s my good girl,” he said, his voice dripping with false affection. “At least you remember that much.”

San’s hand moved down to your waist, his grip firm but not harsh. He turned you slightly, positioning you so that you were kneeling on the bed with your back to him. Before you could anticipate his next move, the sharp sound of his palm meeting your ass filled the room, making you gasp.  

“Late again,” he said, his tone a mixture of mock exasperation and amusement. “You never learn, do you?”  

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling.  

“Sorry?” San repeated, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on the spot he’d just slapped. “Do you think that makes up for wasting my time, kitten?”  

Your head hung low, shame and guilt swirling in your chest. “No, Daddy.”  

“Hmm, no, it doesn’t,” he agreed, the false sympathy in his voice sending shivers down your spine. His other hand gripped your chin, tilting your face back toward him. “But I’ll humor you. Tell me why you think you deserve my forgiveness.”  

The words caught in your throat, your eyes darting toward the door as if silently begging for intervention. As if on cue, the door opened, and Seonghwa stepped in, his presence a balm to the tension that had built in the room.  

“San,” he said softly, his melodic voice breaking through the thick atmosphere. “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh on her?”  

San didn’t loosen his grip on you, but his lips twitched in a faint smirk. “A little harsh? Maybe. But I like to think it gets the point across.”  

Seonghwa crossed the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was trying not to spook you. He came up behind you, his warm hands resting gently on your shoulders. “Our little one just needs guidance,” he murmured, leaning down so that his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Not to be broken.”  

The contrast between them was striking. Where San’s touch was firm and commanding, Seonghwa’s was a soothing, grounding you even as your nerves buzzed. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you back into his chest from San's grip and you felt a small measure of safety return.  

San clicked his tongue, his amusement clear. “You spoil her too much, Hwa. That’s why she thinks she can get away with being late.”  

Seonghwa chuckled, his voice vibrating against your back. “Or maybe you’re too quick to punish, San. Have you thought of that?”  

San’s smirk widened, and he stepped closer, his hands slipping to your thighs, squeezing just enough to draw your attention back to him. “I think you’re too soft,” he teased, his gaze meeting Seonghwa’s over your shoulder. “But if you think you can handle her better, why don’t you join me?”  

Your eyes widened, your breath hitching as Seonghwa’s grip around you tightened, his chest pressing more firmly against your back.  

“Join you?” Seonghwa repeated, his tone deceptively light. “You mean to help her, not overwhelm her, right?”  

San shrugged, his hands roaming up your sides with an air of nonchalance. “Depends on how much help she needs.”  

Seonghwa’s lips brushed your temple as he whispered, “Do you trust me, little one?”  

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible.  

“Good,” he said, his hands now guiding yours to rest on your thighs, keeping you still. “Let’s remind you how much you’re cared for.”  

San leaned in, his gaze softening just enough to show a flicker of affection beneath his teasing. His hand cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You’re lucky we’re patient,” he said, though his smirk made it clear he wasn’t entirely serious.  

San’s fingers found the hem of your oversized shirt, his grip impatient as he tugged it over your head. The motion was swift, almost rough, leaving you exposed to the cool air of the room. You gasped softly, instinctively moving to cover yourself, but San’s firm hand stopped you.  

“Ah, ah,” he chided, his dark eyes glittering with authority. “Don’t you dare hide from me.”  

You swallowed hard, your hands falling back to your sides as you trembled under his gaze. His fingers brushed against your skin, cold against the heat that seemed to radiate from you. With deliberate slowness, he reached behind you to unhook your bra, the straps slipping down your shoulders like a whisper.  

Seonghwa, still behind you, caught the discarded garment and leaned down to pick up a delicate, semi-transparent lingerie set that had been neatly laid out on the dresser. His touch was in stark contrast to San’s—gentle, almost reverent, as he guided the soft fabric up your arms.  

“This suits her,” Seonghwa said, his voice low and melodic, as he adjusted the straps on your shoulders with care. The material clung to your body in a way that felt both innocent and intimate, the faint pink hue of the lingerie complementing the flush spreading across your skin.  

San stepped back slightly, his sharp gaze roaming over you, taking in every detail. A low chuckle escaped him as his eyes traveled downward. “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice laced with amusement, “looks like someone’s enjoying herself a little too much.”  

Your face burned as you followed his gaze, horrified to see the evidence of your arousal dampening the linen beneath you.  

“Tell me, kitten,” San teased, kneeling down so his face was level with yours, his smirk growing wider, “is this because of me?” He tilted his head, his voice a mocking coo. “Are you turned on by how rough I am with you?”  

You bit your lip, your body betraying you as another wave of heat pooled in your belly. “Y-Yes,” you admitted, your voice small and shaky, tinged with a whiny neediness you couldn’t control.  

“Of course you are,” San said, his laughter quiet but sharp, as though the answer had only confirmed what he already knew. He leaned in, brushing his lips against your ear as he murmured, “You like being my good little toy, don’t you?”  

Before you could respond, Seonghwa’s warm lips pressed against the back of your neck, trailing down to your shoulders. His movements were slow, deliberate, like he was trying to soothe the trembling mess San had made of you.  

“You’re beautiful,” Seonghwa whispered against your skin, his hands coming to rest gently on your waist. “You don’t have to be afraid, little one. I’ve got you.”  

San stood, his presence still looming even as he moved away. The rustling of fabric drew your attention, and you peeked through lowered lashes to see him unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were unhurried, calculated, the sharp lines of his body coming into view with every undone button.  

“Don’t get too comfortable,” San said, his tone laced with warning as he tossed the shirt aside. “I’m not done with you yet.”  

But even as he spoke, Seonghwa’s soothing touch and soft murmurs anchored you, his lips never ceasing their gentle exploration of your back. The contrast between them—San’s rough edges and Seonghwa’s tender warmth—left you suspended in a whirlwind of sensations, utterly at their mercy.

San's intense gaze darkened as he stepped forward. In one fluid motion, he lifted you effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping around you as though you weighed nothing. A surprised gasp escaped your lips, but San gave you no time to process. He pressed you against the cool wall, the hard surface grounding you against the heat of his body.  

Leaning in, he captured your mouth in a sloppy, possessive kiss, his lips demanding as they moved against yours. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and his tongue claimed you with a roughness that made your head spin. You whimpered softly into the kiss, your hands clutching at his shoulders as if anchoring yourself to him. His muscular body made you feel to tiny and insignificant in front of him… which you absolutely loved.

Behind you, Seonghwa had risen from the bed. His dark eyes lingered on you, and there was no mistaking the tension in his posture—or the strain evident against the fabric of his pants. 

San broke the kiss, his breath hot against your lips as he spoke. “You’re shaking, kitten,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Is this what you wanted? To feel me like this?”  

Before you could answer, he shifted his hold on you, lowering you slowly against him. The hard line of his arousal pressed into you, even through the layers of fabric separating you, drawing a soft, involuntary whine from your throat.  

“Look at you,” he continued, his tone mocking but laced with something deeper. “You can’t even control yourself, can you?”  

“I…” You tried to form words, but the sensation of him, combined with the lingering warmth of Seonghwa’s gaze, made coherent thought impossible.  

As if sensing your overwhelmed state, Seonghwa stepped closer, his hands resting lightly on your arms before trailing down to your sides. His lips found the sensitive curve of your shoulder, pressing soft kisses there that sent shivers through your body.  

San’s smirk widened as his hand began to wander, sliding down between your legs with deliberate slowness. The anticipation built with every second, your breath hitching as he teased you with light, fleeting touches.  

“You’re so sensitive,” he observed, his tone equal parts amusement and pride. “Does this drive you crazy, kitten?”  

You nodded weakly, your knees threatening to buckle under the combined assault of San’s rough, confident movements and Seonghwa’s tender, reassuring touch.  

San’s fingers pressed inside your cunt more firmly now, the motion drawing soft, breathy sounds from you. “Of course, it does,” he said, his voice a low growl. “You love when I take control, don’t you?”  

“Yes,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as the sensations began to overwhelm you.  

San's smirk deepened as he leaned in, his lips latching onto the soft skin of your collarbone. He kissed with purpose, his mouth warm and insistent, leaving behind marks that you knew would bloom into faint bruises later. Each kiss was a deliberate claim, his teeth grazing your skin, tongue soothing over where he’d nipped.  

You gasped, tilting your head instinctively to give him more access, but San wasn’t gentle—he didn’t need to be. His hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you in place as his lips trailed upwards to the curve of your neck. Each mark he left ignited sparks that coursed through your body, a reminder of his overwhelming presence.  

“Don’t squirm,” San muttered against your skin, his voice low and commanding. His teeth scraped lightly over the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you shudder.  

In your haze, you barely registered the soft rustle of fabric as San’s hand moved lower. With calculated ease, he discarded the last barrier between his body and yours, the subtle shift in his stance making his actions unmistakable.  

Seonghwa’s lips pressed softly to the top of your head, his voice like silk as he whispered, “Breathe, let him take care of you.”  

But San’s idea of care was far from gentle. He straightened, his chest brushing against yours as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes burned with intensity, the smirk on his lips equal parts teasing and predatory.  

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his tone rough but quiet, meant only for you. His hands tightened their grip on your hips, holding you securely against him.  

San's hand traveled between your legs and as his fingers found their way to your folds, he pumped them in a couple of times, your head lolling back at the feeling. When he decided that you were prepped enough - which you weren't, but he was damn impatient - he lowered you on his cock, fully thrusting it in.  

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and dripping with mockery. “Barely holding yourself together, aren’t you, kitten?”  

You whimpered softly, your lips parted as you tried to form words, but the overwhelming sensations left you mute.  

“Come on,” San coaxed, his tone sharp yet teasing. “Use your words. What’s the matter? Too much for you already?”  

“D-Daddy…” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as you gazed up at him, your hands weakly clutching at his shoulders.  

San let out a low chuckle, leaning back just enough to look you over, his smirk widening as he saw the dazed, almost helpless expression on your face. “Daddy, huh?” he repeated mockingly. “You think that’s going to make me go easy on you?”  

Your breath hitched, and you shook your head weakly, earning another sharp laugh from him.  

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his tone dripping with authority. He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You like this, don’t you? Being so completely at my mercy?”  

You nodded hesitantly, and his smirk grew even more wicked.  

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice taking on a harder edge. “Tell me how much you love it when Daddy takes control.”  

“I-I love it,” you stammered, your voice breaking under the weight of his dominance.  

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, his tone mockingly sweet as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re such a mess for me, aren’t you? Completely ruined, and we’re not even done yet.”  

You whimpered again, your body trembling under his touch.  

“Pathetic,” he said with a smirk, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. “Completely pathetic, and yet you’re still begging for more. Aren’t you?”  

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but he heard it nonetheless.  

San leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Good. Because I’m nowhere near finished with you, kitten.” 

Seonghwa’s quiet observation eventually broke, his low, velvety voice cutting through the room. “What exactly do you have planned for her, San?” he asked, his tone calm and curious, though there was an underlying edge of amusement.  

San didn’t stop, his movements as deliberate and sharp as his personality. His grip tightened on your hips as he responded, his voice coming out in low, ragged breaths between his thrusts. “Oh, I have plans,” he said, his smirk audible even without seeing his face.  

Seonghwa raised a brow, stepping closer now, his own hand still lazily tracing over himself, watching you keenly. “Care to elaborate?”  

San let out a soft chuckle, his breath ghosting against your ear as he answered, “I plan to ruin her.” His words were teasing, almost cruel in their intent. “She’s going to beg for me, for everything. More than she’s ever begged before.”  

Your body trembled at his words, the promise in them sending a fresh wave of tension through you. San leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued, his voice dropping lower. “And just when she thinks I’ll give her what she wants…” He paused, his grip on you tightening briefly for emphasis. “…I won’t.”  

Seonghwa’s smirk grew, his gaze flicking between you and San with quiet interest. “Cruel, as always,” 

San chuckled again, this time with more satisfaction, his rhythm unrelenting as he added, “She likes it. Don’t you, kitten?”  

Your response was a breathless whimper, your head lolling against San’s shoulder as your body surrendered to the overwhelming mix of sensations. 

“Let’s see how patient are you, my love… are you going to be more patient than I was?” San cooed, holding you close to him as he pulled out and dropped you in the bed powerfully, towering over you. “Let’s see if it was worth being late, darling.” he leaned in for a kiss, then raised your hips above his, letting them rest. 

San’s gaze bore into yours, the stormy intensity in his eyes enough to make your breath hitch. He didn’t move right away, letting the tension stretch thin in the air between you, his hand firm on your hip as he held you in place. His lips, so close to yours, hovered without touching, teasing you with the ghost of a promise.  

“You’ve been testing me all week, haven’t you?” San murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers racing down your spine.

He trailed his hand down, the roughness of his palm against your skin a stark contrast to the tenderness of his words. But just as you leaned into him, aching for more, San pulled back slightly, his smirk sharp and deliberate.  

Seonghwa’s soft chuckle reached your ears, his tone laced with amused approval. “You’re relentless, San,” he remarked, though his attention never strayed far from you. There was an edge of curiosity to his voice, as if he was enjoying watching the dynamic unfold.  

San glanced at Seonghwa briefly, his lips quirking in a sly grin before his focus returned to you. “Relentless,” he echoed, his tone filled with dark satisfaction. “But that’s what she likes, isn’t it?” His fingers tightened against your skin just enough to make your pulse quicken. 

You barely managed a breathy response, your body trembling with anticipation. San tilted his head, his lips finally brushing yours in a kiss that was as fleeting as it was intoxicating.  

“Patience, kitten,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and commanding. “You’ll get what you want... but only when I decide you’ve earned it.”

San’s smirk deepened as he glanced at Seonghwa, his sharp gaze glinting with mischief. “Why don’t you join us?” he murmured, his voice dripping with invitation and challenge. 

Seonghwa hesitated for only a moment, his piercing eyes locking with San’s before sliding down to meet yours. There was something almost reverent in his expression as he moved closer, his hand brushing over your arm to guide you gently yet firmly.  

“Lean back,” Seonghwa instructed softly, his voice a rich contrast to San’s rough edges. His hands guided you until you were resting against him, his firm chest a solid support behind you. His thighs framed yours, his presence grounding you even as your heart raced.  

San hummed approvingly, his smirk never faltering as he knelt between your legs, his gaze intense as it roamed over you. “Perfect,” he muttered, his hands tracing up your thighs with deliberate slowness, his touch a stark contrast to Seonghwa’s steady, grounding hold.  

Seonghwa’s fingers brushed over your shoulders, his breath warm against your temple as he murmured, “Relax, love.” The soothing timbre of his voice made it impossible not to sink into him, even as San’s movements sent sparks racing through you.  

San’s lips found your thighs, his kisses starting feather-light before growing more deliberate. His chin grazed your skin as he nipped at the sensitive flesh, each touch both a tease and a promise. He looked up at you, his dark eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “I’ll make sure you don’t forget this.”  

Your breath hitched as Seonghwa’s hands slid down your arms, his grip firm yet reassuring. “Breathe,” he murmured, his voice steady, as though coaxing you to surrender completely to the moment.  

San’s lips moved closer to your cunt, but he paused just before reaching where you wanted him most, his smirk widening at your involuntary whimper. “Not so fast, kitten,” he teased, his voice a rough purr. “I’m just getting started.”

When his mouth finally started to suck on your clit, a sharp gasp escaped you, your back arching instinctively against Seonghwa’s chest. San didn’t hold back, his lips moving with deliberate, hungry intent as he ate you out, sending shockwaves through your entire body.  

His roughness was intoxicating, every motion designed to pull you deeper into the haze he was creating. He groaned softly against you, the vibration adding an unexpected layer of pleasure that made you tremble.  

Seonghwa’s breath hitched behind you, his hard cock, undeniable where you were pressed against him. His hands gripped your hips, steadying you as you writhed under San’s relentless attention. “You’re driving her mad,” Seonghwa murmured, his voice thick with something between awe and desire.  

San pulled back just enough to respond, his lips glistening as he looked up at you with a wicked grin. “That’s the point,” he said, his voice rough with satisfaction. Without waiting for a reply, he delved back in, his tongue pressing against you with a roughness that had your fingers clawing at Seonghwa’s thighs for purchase.  

Every flick, every deliberate drag of San’s tongue against your clit, sent you spiraling further. He alternated between sucking on it and licking with a ferocity that made it impossible to hold still. Seonghwa’s grip tightened on you as if anchoring you to reality, his lips brushing your temple in an attempt to soothe the chaos San was stirring within you.  

“You’re so responsive,” San rasped against you between movements, his tone full of pride and teasing affection. “Just look at you… falling apart already.”  

You could barely process his words, the sensations too overwhelming, too consuming. The heat of Seonghwa’s body behind you and the rough, unrelenting intensity of San in front of you created a heady mix that left you utterly at their mercy.  

San abruptly pulled back, his lips glistening, leaving you teetering on the edge of your orgasm. The sudden absence of his touch was a shock, and you whimpered, your hips instinctively tilting forward to chase the sensation. His smirk was devastatingly smug as he leaned back on his knees, wiping the corner of his mouth with a thumb.  

“Not yet, kitten,” he drawled, his voice thick with command. “I told you, you don’t get to have it until I decide you’ve earned it.” His gaze flickered up to yours, dark and unyielding.  

You shook your head, defiance flickering through the haze of desire. “N-no,” you murmured, a stubborn edge creeping into your voice, even as your body trembled with need.  

San chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “No?” he repeated, his tone mocking, his grin widening as though you’d just issued him a delightful challenge. “How adorable. You think you’re in control here?”  

He reached out, his hand gripping your chin firmly, tilting your face toward him as he loomed closer. “Say it again,” he commanded softly, his tone laced with dangerous amusement.  

Before you could respond, San turned to Seonghwa, his voice shifting to a calm authority. “Seonghwa, get undressed and take her.”  

Seonghwa nodded without hesitation, his movements smooth and fluid as he stripped off his shirt and then his pants. Unlike San’s intensity, there was a softness to him, a gentler energy that eased the tension coursing through you.  

“Come here,” Seonghwa murmured, his hands reaching for you as he effortlessly lifted you onto his lap. His touch was steady, his hands warm and soothing against your skin. Seated against him, his bare chest pressing into your back, the stark contrast between his tenderness and San’s roughness was grounding.  

San sat back on his heels, watching with a smirk that told you he wasn’t done playing with you yet. “Let’s see if she behaves better for you,” he teased, his tone dripping with dominance as his eyes stayed locked on yours. “But don’t go too soft, Hwa. She needs to learn what happens when she tries to defy me.”  

Seonghwa shifted beneath you, his hands steady on your hips as he aligned himself with your hole. His lips brushed against your shoulder, soft and reassuring, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. “Relax for me, love,” he murmured, his voice calm yet filled with anticipation.  

San, seated to the side, leaned back slightly, his hand lazily stroking himself, cock dripping with precum as his sharp eyes stayed glued to the scene in front of him. “That’s it, Hwa,” he purred.“Show her how gentle can still make her squirm.”  

Seonghwa’s movements were slow, deliberate, as though savoring every second of the moment. You shuddered at the sensation, your body caught between his tenderness and San’s burning gaze. San’s breath hitched audibly, a low groan escaping him as he watched, the sight clearly fueling his own pleasure.  

“You look so pretty like this,” San teased, his voice dripping with dominance. “Caught between us… exactly where you’re meant to be.”

Seonghwa’s pace grew more measured, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, “You’re doing so well.” His fingers pressed into your hips, grounding you, his every movement pulling you closer to the edge. Your body trembled, anticipation building as you surrendered to the steady rhythm he set.  

Just as the high began to crest, San’s voice cut through the haze. “Stop.”  

The word was sharp, commanding, and immediate. Seonghwa stilled instantly, his hands retreating as he pulled out, leaving you gasping and teetering on the brink.  

“No, please,” you begged, turning your desperate gaze to San. “Don’t stop now. Let me—please, I need to—”  

San leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he brushed his fingers along your cheek. “Need to?” he mused, his tone deceptively soft. “That’s rich, coming from someone who spent all week defying me. Do you think you’ve earned the right to finish?”  

You shook your head, swallowing the lump of frustration and desire in your throat. “I’ll do better, I swear.”  

San smirked, his hand tangling in your hair as he guided you to kneel on the edge of the bed. “You’ll prove that now,” he said smoothly, his thumb grazing your lower lip. “Open up.”  

You obeyed, lips parting as he slid himself past them, his cock heavy on your tongue. San’s groan was low, a sound of satisfaction as his hand held you steady. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hips rolling forward just enough to test your limits.  

Behind you, the bed shifted as Seonghwa moved into position, his hands caressing your waist before sliding lower, his warmth against you unmistakable. “Seonghwa… fuck her” San instructed, his voice deepening. “I want her to feel you stretch her out while she sucks me off”  

Seonghwa hummed in acknowledgment, his lips brushing the nape of your neck as he moved against you, his presence filling the space San had left. 

San tilted your chin up slightly, his movements patient but firm. “Keep your eyes on me,” he said, his voice a gentle command. “I want to see how much you enjoy this. How much you’re willing to give.”  

Your muffled whine vibrated against San’s cock as you tried to keep your focus, but the overwhelming combination of sensations was too much to bear. 

San smirked, clearly noticing your struggle, and his grip in your hair tightened slightly, tilting your head for better leverage. “You’re distracted,” he growled. “Let me help you focus.”  

Without warning, San thrust his hips forward, sliding himself deeper into your throat. The sudden intrusion made you gag, your throat tightening reflexively around him as your hands gripped his thighs for stability. San groaned low and deep, the sound vibrating through the room.  

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Taking me so well, even when you’re choking on it. Maybe you’re learning after all.”  

Behind you, Seonghwa’s hands on your hips tightened, his movements stuttering as he felt your body react to San’s forcefulness. Your whimper against San’s cock sent a shiver through Seonghwa, but he stilled himself, obeying the unspoken command to pause until San decided you’d earned more.  

Your throat burned as San held himself deep, his hand flexing against the back of your head, keeping you exactly where he wanted. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t dare pull away. His dominance was intoxicating, even in its intensity.  

When San finally relented, pulling back just enough to let you gasp for air, his thumb stroked your cheek. “Not bad,” he mused, tilting his head. “But you’re not there yet.”  

Seonghwa’s soft whisper reached your ear, grounding you as your chest heaved. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your shoulder.  

San’s sharp gaze flicked to Seonghwa, and he gave a single, measured nod. “Now.”  

Seonghwa didn’t need further instruction. He resumed his movements, his hips rolling forward in a rhythm that made your toes curl. His groan was soft, almost reverent, as he leaned closer, his chest pressed against your back.  

San’s grip in your hair loosened slightly, guiding you back to him. “You’re going to make up for every moment you disobeyed this week,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “And if you’re good enough, maybe—just maybe—I’ll let you finish this time.” 

“M-ngh, San!” your moan revrebrating through his cock. You steadied yourself and held onto his hips, catching your breath as Seonghwa started to fully thrust into you again. 

“What?” he stopped for a second. 

You pulled off San, tears streaming down your cheeks, voice trembling and high-pitched, “Please, San, please! I can’t—please don’t stop again—I need it so bad, I’m begging you!”  

San, gripping your jaw firmly, forcing you to look up at him, his eyes sharp and unyielding, “You’re begging now? After everything this week? After all the times you ignored me, pushed me, defied me?” he lets out a low, mocking laugh, “And now you think whining like this will get you what you want?”  

“I’ll do anything—anything! I swear! Just don’t stop again, please, please!” you begged abd begged, looking up at him in the eyes.

He brushed his thumb over your trembling lips, “Anything, huh? You’re pathetic, you know that? Look at you—crying, shaking, acting like you have no control. But fine. You want a chance? Let’s make a deal.”  

“Yes—yes! Anything..."

“Then.. you’ve got two minutes to make me finish. Two minutes. If you can do that, maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you finish, too. But if you fail? You’ll go the rest of the night without cumming. Do you understand me?”  

"Y-yes...yes!" you whined out.

“Good. Then stop wasting time and prove to me you’re worth it.”  San then grabbed you by your hair, tangling his head and pulling you harshly to his cock.

You position yourself between San’s legs, wasting no time as your hand wraps firmly around his base. Without hesitation, you take his cock into your mouth, deep and fast, like it’s the only thing you’ve ever needed. The warmth and wetness make him groan immediately, his head tilting back as he struggles to keep up with the sheer intensity of your actions.  

Your lips tighten around him, sliding down as far as you can go, your tongue pressing firmly against the underside, hitting the sensitive spots that makes his thighs tense. You don’t hold back..  your movements are fast, relentless, and filled with purpose. Your hand follows where your mouth leaves off, stroking him with a slick, twisting motion, matching the rhythm as your head bobs in a steady, fervent pace.  

You hollow your cheeks, creating a tight suction that pulls another deep groan from him, his hands gripping your hair as his control slips. The sounds you make are shamelessly messy—wet, eager, and desperate—as you take him in deeper with every motion, your throat flexing to handle more.  

His breathing is ragged now, his hips shifting, but you keep control, doubling down as you focus on the sensitive head, swirling your tongue around it in quick, firm strokes before sliding down again, taking him to the base, choking on the tip. You whine softly, the vibrations sending a jolt through him, his voice breaking as he whines out, his body tightening.  

“Ah, fuck… “ he moaned out, his back lolling back in pleasure. 

Let's not forget that Seonghwa was fucking you relentlessly from behind, your walls clenching onto him as he gripped your waist. He was close, you knew it. Breaths ragged near your ear and his hands were holding tight on your skin, but you needed to focus on San… Seonghwa would cum by himself only by fucking you. But San.. oh god, he'd always destroy you before his pleasure. 

“Just like that, kitten..” he said and gripped his hands better in your hair, pulling you as close as possible. Your nose hit his pelvis, throat sore and gagging on his cock. He stood like that for a couple of moments and thrusted slightly even deeper, to which he came right down your throat. You choked on his huge load and pulled back, his cock resting in your tongue as silky white cum was still dripping heavily from the tip. When he was done, he pulled back and lifted your chin, to make you look at him.

“Swallow. Everything.” you did as told and then as he hummed in satisfaction. 

“Now now… Seonghwa, would you mind switching places? Your thrusts are not roug enough, I'm afraid…” San said and lifted you up. In one swift motion he sat you onto his lap, your chest against his. 

Seonghwa’s hands slid down your back as he stepped behind you, his movements deliberate and steady. His grip settled firmly on your hips, fingers splaying over your flushed skin before drifting lower to your ass. He kneaded the soft flesh with a firm but gentle touch, his lips grazing the back of your neck in contrast to San’s unrelenting dominance.

San, already seated with you straddling his lap, tightened his hold on your waist. His fingers pressed into the soft, reddened skin, a mark of his earlier fervor. His eyes burned into yours as he shifted slightly, his voice low and commanding. “Don’t forget who you’re really here for,” he growled, his tone sending shivers down your spine.

With a single, precise motion, San thrust into you fully, his body melding with yours as a broken cry escaped your lips. Seonghwa, aligning himself carefully, followed suit, his movements smoother but no less intense. The contrast between them was electrifying—San’s rough, possessive thrusts pairing with Seonghwa’s controlled rhythm to drive you higher, the two of them moving in tandem as if sharing one unspoken goal.  

San tilted your chin up with one hand, his lips brushing against yours briefly before he spoke. “You’re doing so well, kitten,” he murmured, though his words carried a teasing edge. “But you’re not done yet.”  

Seonghwa groaned behind you, his fingers digging into your skin as his thrusts became sharper, his restraint slipping. The three of you moved in perfect synchronicity, the overwhelming sensations building rapidly until you could no longer hold back. Your cries filled the room as the tension snapped, your body trembling violently as the release overtook you.  

Seonghwa followed closely, his grip tightening as he buried himself fully, his soft groan of pleasure vibrating against your shoulder. He kissed the back of your neck tenderly, his breath warm against your skin, a grounding contrast to the whirlwind you were caught in.  

But San wasn’t finished. His grip on your waist grew firmer as he quickened his pace, chasing his own high even as your overstimulated body quivered against him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he pushed you further, your senses overwhelmed.  

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough with satisfaction as his movements became erratic. “Give me everything.”  

With one final, deep thrust, San found his release, his second high hitting him harder than the first. The intensity of the moment pushed you over the edge again, a sudden, powerful wave washing over you as your body reacted uncontrollably. You gasped as the sensation hit, your body trembling as you squirted, the overstimulation wringing every last drop of energy from you.  

San held you close, his hands firm but steady as he rode out his high, his breath ragged against your neck. “Perfect,” he murmured finally, his tone softening as he kissed your temple. 

As Seonghwa finally pulled out, a soft groan leaving his lips, he shifted to gather you into his arms. His movements were gentle, cradling you as though you were made of glass, his lips pressing against your temple with quiet affection. “You did so well,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.  

San leaned forward, his hand stroking down your back in deliberate, slow motions. A light pat followed, though it carried a teasing edge as he smirked. “Let this be a lesson, kitten,” he said, his tone playful yet firm. “If you ever decide to test me like that again… this is exactly what will happen. Only next time, I won’t go so easy on you.”  

You gave a soft whimper of acknowledgment, too exhausted to do much else, and Seonghwa chuckled behind you. “You’re relentless, San,” he said, though his words carried a fond amusement. His gaze flicked between you and San. “She needs some care now, not another lecture. Why don’t you take her to get cleaned up?”  

San hummed, his grin softening just a fraction as he leaned in to press a kiss against your damp hair. “Fair enough,” he replied before slipping his arms around you, seamlessly lifting you from Seonghwa’s hold and pulling you against his chest. His grip was firm yet comforting, holding you close as he stood.  

“You were perfect today, kitten,” San murmured, his tone uncharacteristically tender as he carried you toward the bathroom. His fingers traced gentle patterns against your back as he continued, “Every second of it. You have no idea how proud I am of you.”  

The warmth of his words and his embrace cocooned you, easing the lingering tension in your body. As San carried you, you caught Seonghwa’s soft smile in the corner of your vision, his quiet presence a steady reassurance even as exhaustion began to pull you under.

NETWORKS: @blossomnet @illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1

[strandedaylily]

starry-eyed fool

[yuridovewing]

can we talk about how it honestly kinda sucks that leafpool’s “climatic main character death” happens in a book that has barely anything to do with her

[jessiesjaded]

most interesting popular accounts to me are the ones that just post stuff like gifsets or art or writing but never ever say anything, like no tag rambles, no personal posts, no opinions, no rants. im always like surely.... surely you have something to say....

[grabby-smitten]

Concrete Jungle: King of the beasts

Summary: Buying a hybrid was not what you had in mind when you asked for independence. Sylus didn’t like humans but his owner was the exception.

Subjects: Albino lion Hybrid!Sylus x F!Reader

Word count: 4.1k+

Content Warnings: Hybrid AU, smut, owner reader, kissing, cunnilingus, P in V, breeding, cnc if u squint really hard, biting, textured tongue. Use of words like predator/prey, cunt, pussy, kitten. Not edited and no beta.

A.N: I learned that big cats can’t purr and I was so disappointed. Oh, well….ah! I might do one for each li. k bye 💋

“Are you sure, I need one?” You’ve asked your parents that question for the umpteenth time.

“Yes, a hybrid is a good caretaker and it would make us feel better knowing one is protecting you.” Your father answered with a tired smile, understanding your uneasiness but they weren’t going to change their mind.

Moving out and finally becoming independent was just one step away from happening. Your parents were against it at first. Coming from money means someone will always be after your trail, danger and they had overprotected you, their only daughter since… well, even before you were born. They weren’t able to have natural children so you were conceived through artificial methods. Which, according to your parents, was a whole ordeal and suffering. Details that you rather not know.

It was time, though, to deep your toes into a world of your own. You wanted freedom for once. No dozens of bodyguards, no tracking devices and no fear of the unknown.

The part of convincing your parents was hard. No, after no, after no. Until, the head of security, taking pity on you, suggested buying a hybrid for you. Not just any hybrid; one specially made to protect and serve.

Now it was your turn to profoundly refuse. Everyone had one and those who didn’t, desired one… like some kind of accessory. It sickened you and besides, you didn’t want another responsibility. You wanted your own life! Not taking care of some… dog? Cat? Fish?

In the end, you had no other choice but to agree and here you were, in some facility. Breeding facility? Training? You didn’t care enough to pay attention, honestly.

Walking behind your parents in an all-white hall, smelling like antiseptic and gagging at the chemical sensation in your throat, you started to notice how the white walls began to turn into cages. Placards hung in the walls near the tinted glass and steel bars of the cages with descriptions of the… hybrids?

Looking up from the labels, you finally realized you no longer were alone. Each cell was occupied by humanoid-shaped shadows. The tint of the reinforced glass obstructed your vision but it was clear they were there.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize a couple of strangers had joined your family. Paying a bit more attention to their chatter, you concluded they were doctors or scientists from this facility. They were explaining something about their products and that it was the best the market could offer. You frowned at their words. It was like you were buying a car… they even explained the insurance policy.

“And this specimen, right here, is our finest hybrid!” One of the men talking to your parents loudly explained.

You stepped closer to the placard and read the few words it contained. ‘Albino Lion Hybrid (Panthera leo Hybrid, large cat family Felidae). Apex predator (no natural enemy known). Renowned king of the beasts. More active at night. Preferable habitats: grassland, dense scrub, savanna, and open woodland. Nomadic male.’

Your eyes widened once your brain processed the information. This was no guard dog or house cat. Before you could utter a complaint about how obnoxious this all was, the tinted glass cleared and you were looking straight into a pair of scarlet eyes.

Sylus almost laughed at the face of the female standing outside his cell. The little mouse seemed in shock to see him there. What was she expecting? Where else would he be? If not caged and on display here— absurd, he thought. All humans that came here, came for one thing and one thing only; to purchase a wild species, a unique breed to flaunt to their peers. Sylus continuously thought about how weird these humans behaved in society. Their hierarchy dynamics were messed up and he despised that.

You felt his eyes mocking you, such deep red and the only thing you could feel was irritation. Frowning, you turned your head and left him. See how he likes grouching on his own.

Once you were a few steps away, the scientists or doctors stared at the red-eyed big cat hybrid with wonder and… respect? This place was bonkers, you thought to yourself.

“So this is the one?” Your mother asked and marveled at the sight of the lion hybrid. White-silver hair, large, powerful presence, and sharp features.

“Yes, ma’am. Our best subject. Well trained in all the aspects you requested and fairly knowledgeable which is hard to come by with these beats.”

Hearing all that gave you stomach reflux, the acidity burning your esophagus. Your dam was about to break and all your pent-up feelings would end up costing you your freedom if it wasn’t for the red-eyed hybrid. He knocked on the glass and you jumped, startled. You were surprised, he even beckoned you with a finger and again, surprised now with yourself, you automatically obeyed.

It was like a trance. A hypnotic daze of sorts. Both met face to face once again, only separated by the reinforced glass. For a moment you were distracted, the outburst you were about to have laid dormant in the back of your head.

What is this…? Sylus couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity. That’s why he was so close to the glass earlier too. He couldn’t see the other side a while ago but something was pulling him there. The whole day he felt restless and on guard as if something resonated within him.

Could this be—

“Ah! Marvelous! Look! They are already interested in each other! Sylus is not showing any signs of hostility or repulsion…” a different scientist exclaimed with eagerness, interrupting whatever connection you had with Sylus at that moment.

Not many words were needed to convince your parents after that show you and Sylus put up. Papers were signed, money transferred and a very confused Sylus was sedated and prepared for shipment.

The big city. Polluted air, noisy streets twenty-four hours a day, and hybrids everywhere. Most people carried one; a human with some animal characteristics, and now you were one of them too. Sylus was scheduled to arrive in a few minutes. All the things you would need to care for him were already in your apartment and even his paperwork. Name, birth, permits and you; listed as his owner.

The melodic tune of your ring bell announced the dreaded moment. You knew Sylus would be escorted here and that most of the traveling time he would have been sedated, but still the long distance between your new home and the facility he was kept in was almost six hours away. You feared a big grumpy cat.

Oh boy… grumpy was an understatement. He didn’t look happy. The moment he stepped foot in and all the straps holding him were taken off, he waited for the delivery people to disappear and he pounced. Surprisingly not on you. He went through all your stuff. According to the guide you received he was scenting. He went through your whole house; rubbing, scratching and overall making a mess.

“Stop! Hey, hmm… Sylus? You don’t have to scent my clothes.” You tried talking to him but he was not interested in your opinion, apparently. He just glanced at you and kept doing whatever he was doing before, like you were the one, not understanding. You had to snatch your underwear from his closed fist in a panic.

He went nonverbal for a week. A week! You were going insane. Yes, he obeyed. Yes, he was extremely independent and didn’t cause any more commotion besides the panty situation on the first day. But God… he was extremely quiet. It wasn’t until you commanded him to that you realized you should have read the manual until the last page; not only the summary.

“Sylus! Say something!” You demanded; going insane was not in your plans for the foreseeable future. They never told you he was mute or anything of that nature.

“Is there anything you need from me, my lady?” His deep and slow voice had your heart leaping out from your chest.

You just stood there, gaping and looking at him like you couldn’t believe he was able to make a sound. Yeah, not even his steps produced sounds. Sylus examined his human with a gleam of humor in his sapphire eyes. This face was a common one for her and he found it… almost endearing. It reminded him of the first time you two met.

“You can talk…” you whispered low and saw how his fluffy round, and white ears twitched. “You can talk!” Again, you exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in disbelief. “Why haven’t you said anything before?!”

“I wasn’t allowed to,” he calmly explained. That mischievous twinkle in his eyes never left, “my owner never requested me to do so until now.”

And that’s how you spend almost three days reading the darn manuals with a now very talkative feline.

You found that Sylus was more than just a pet. He could cook, clean and even force you to exercise which ended up backfiring. You couldn’t keep up with his supposedly healthy routine. A healthy lifestyle means a happy owner, and you would curse under your breath every time he repeated it.

In general, you were happy, he seemed happy and living with him was easier than you thought. Quickly, you two began to build a bond and it was a matter of time before he began to realize why it had been so easy to adapt to this human. His human which is how he referred to you.

Following the manual, you always made sure to have everything Sylus would need. Even his heats. At first, you tried to get him a heat partner and it was a mess. More like you were a mess. Even Sylus was surprised at how you ended up kicking out the poor rental gazelle hybrid in less than five minutes. You didn’t understand what took over you to be so… overprotective.

Oh, but Sylus was not complaining. Watching you almost declare war in his name gave him a deep satisfaction. So much so that he accepted to take suppressants for the time being.

After that incident, things began to change drastically. Sylus in return became a bit more aggressive towards any living creature that was in less than a mile radius of you. Growling, pushing, and even wrapping you with his tail and pulling you towards his body anytime he felt you were in danger. Yeah, you were in so much danger from the tube man… that air dancing balloon from the car wash a couple of blocks away.

“It can be that bad…” you took hold of his arm around your waist in a reassuring manner.

He’s been walking with you in his hold since you crossed paths with the inflatable dancing man.

“It has erratic movements. You never know what he might do next.”

Yeah, it was a recurring situation.

Yeah, he was prepared for everything and anything. Well, except one morning when his nose woke him up.

A sweet intoxicating scent traveled through his nostrils and shook him awake. He felt his mouth water, his canines aching, and his eyes turning into thin lines. The predator in him had been disturbed and its awakening meant trouble.

In all his years in captivity, he had never felt such hunger. Something was clawing in his chest, desperate to come out, each intake of air was pulling his sanity deeper and deeper while the monster surfaced.

Like any good hunter, he let his nose guide him through the house. Following such an intoxicating aroma took him to your door. There he stood—elaborated breathing, sharp fingers encrusted on his palms searching for restrain. You were inside; sleeping soundly in the early hours of the morning. He could hear your soft breathing mixing with his wildly beating heart. Knowing you weren’t aware of the predator outside your door sent a jolt of excitement through his body. Easy prey.

Was it you? Were you the one producing such… inebriant aroma? Why?

He took the handle with a death grip, his rational side fighting against instinct. He felt the urge to hunt, pursue, chase… this… this aroma and make it his own. With an internal battle raging inside him, Sylus felt the door weighed heavy on his palm, the handle burned, but he still stepped in.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room, it made no difference to him that you slept in complete darkness; his ruby-red eyes could see just fine. Then, his gaze focused on your sleeping form, little movement from your steady breathing and you had no idea that a hungry predator stood at the foot of your bed.

But Sylus didn’t move, didn’t pounce on you like he wanted. Torn between instinct and duty, he was frozen in place, sweating and overwhelmed with indecision. Your scent was clouding his every sense, making it even more difficult to do the right thing. It was like time had stopped and the only thing on his mind was the palpitations in his groin for even letting his skin touch the hair surrounding you.

What was the right thing? He asked himself. Neck—cracking as his body suddenly shuddered in pain, Sylus was holding himself back by a fine thread.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. You were not like his kind who would accept mating just because of a sudden heat. You were human and he had that fact ingrained into his mind. With a whimper of pain and trepidation, Sylus walked over to the side of your bed; every step was excruciating for the hybrid. Once he reached the edge, he did like every other night shared with you. Sylus, silently whining, laid beside you and wrapped his arms tightly, but this time he kept a generous distance between his hips and your back.

He was not a mindless beast. Not to you.

“Sylus… I can’t breathe…” you don’t know when, you don’t know how, but Sylus always ended up sleeping on top of you like a weighted blanket. “Sylus!”

“You don’t wanna know what I did to the last person who woke me up.” Each word came with a little slur at the end, he was barely waking up. No a second goes by and you felt his spiked tongue grooming the nape of your neck and soft growls shaking your whole body.

“Someone’s happy today, hmmm?” You asked in a short breath, reaching for his round and fluffy ear. As you scratched, you heard the deep grumbles of satisfaction increasing.

“Smells good…”

You felt him sniffing all over your chest, deeply inhaling, moving his head downwards. Sylus pulled your covers in a hasty manner and kept descending. Your eyes widened as you realized where he was going and your feet quickly stopped him; placing them on his shoulder and chest.

“Sy-Sylus! S-stop!” Your hands joined your legs and feet, placing your palms on his mouth and the rest of his face. “What do you—“

You stopped mid question as you felt a bit of moisture in between your legs. In a panic, your mind counted the weeks since you moved in and you have forgotten to make an appointment for your birth control replacement… which meant you must be ovulating. How could you forget? It’s been weeks! With everything happening after moving, getting Sylus and adapting to the new city. You had completely forgotten…

A muffled sound came from behind your palm and then a rough tongue pushed against your skin. You slowly retracted your arm, looking at him with apologetic eyes. It was your fault, after all.

“I was saying that you seem to be in need of assistance,” he uttered, arching an eyebrow at your saddened face.

His heavy body was pressing against the sole of your feet, your legs kept him at bay and it surprised you how… physically insistent he was being.

“What do you mean?” You quickly replied, feigning ignorance and he seemed to know your every trick because his first reaction was to give you one of those salacious smiles of his.

“You can’t exactly lie to my nose, kitten.” He almost growled every word, sending shivers through your body. “You’re fertile.”

Before you could even utter a word to contradict his truth, his hands brushed the back of your raised legs for then his fingers gently tapped your skin. You let out a squeak of surprise and swiftly moved your legs, thus giving him an opportunity to nestle in between your thighs.

“If you’re making fun of me, it’s not funny,” you rebuked, but even as you said that the pressure and sudden ache in your lower regions began to increase with the proximity and weight of Sylus.

“I’m not.” He chuckled and it reverberated down your tummy, sending deep palpitations through your core, “you didn’t read the whole manual yet, now did you?” His finger gently tugged your chin, making you stare right into his crimson orbs.

“No…” you sheepishly mumbled, embarrassed of being found again and your lack of knowledge about some stuff still in the encyclopedia-like book you were given.

“Give me the order and I will deliver, Kitten.” He whispered, eyes calling for your surrender. Sylus was pushing the right buttons by being so close, touching you, and having you cornered right where he wanted you.

“You mean…” voicing your hesitation didn’t deter him from destroying your inhibitions, brick by brick. His eyes were hypnotizing, he would give you anything you wanted and you knew you would be safe, right?

He had you caged between his body and the bed, your mind going a mile per second and your heart racing just as fast. No, he wasn’t moving an inch more and you knew he wouldn’t unless you said so.

“Okay…” you sighed finally removing a burden from your shoulders, “h-help me.” You wanted him to alleviate your aching.

“As you wish, Kitten.”

Not soon had those words left his lips, he was on you. You felt the heaviness of the impact of his lips on you. He had seemed calm while talking but his actions spoke differently. Sylus’ kiss was demanding, fiery even. His tongue took no time to slip in between your abused lips, delivering tentative licks to yours; as if tasting and enjoying you.

He kept his low throaty snarls flowing over your body, crushing you against the sheets. You could taste him too, wild, intense, so Sylus. Two bodies lay in the bed, limbs intertwined. Sylus hands traveled up your body, fingers gripping at anything he could find, your moans being greedily swallowed.

His tail kept a steady thumping behind him, lulling you deeper into his embrace. You would let him do anything, be anything if it meant this fire ignited in your chest would never cease to exist.

Sylus grasped the back of your head, fisting strands of your hair for him to pull back and expose your neck to his aching teeth. He felt euphoria ran through his veins as soon as his pearl whites connected with your tender skin. A growl and the stinging stab on your neck made you gasp, hands gripping his collar to bring him even closer as if that was possible.

In a hurry, his other hand began to tear away your pajamas as his teeth continued to gnaw almost painfully at your throat.

In a blink of an eye, you were lifted and bent. Your face harshly met the warmth of pillows. Gone were your clothes. In what moment exactly? You don’t recall and you didn’t really care at that moment.

“I knew it– fuck– the moment I saw you, I knew it.” Sylus rasped out, breath suddenly hitting your nude backside. “This was mine before you even knew it.”

He suddenly lifted your hips, exposing your dripping core to his crimson gaze. You whimpered as the cold hair hit you, hands gripping the bedsheets, and that’s all you could see. Your own fist and abundant white.

“Sy-Sylus!” You shrieked.

Your exposed pussy was invaded by his mouth, and a low vibrating sound joined. His bumpy tongue lapped eagerly, the texture making you mewl and tremble as you unconsciously tried to pull away. Now the chuffing sound changed to a growl of displeasure, his hands quickly moved to your lower tummy and pressed you back against his awaiting lips.

A mess, a wet and sloppy mess. That’s what Sylus was, still holding your body against his face. He couldn’t care less about anything other than your flavor and sounds overtaking his entire being. He slurped, nipped and spit back in just to repeat it all over again.

It took no time to have you trashing and shaking on his grip, cuming on his face, the chuffing sounds intensifying with your moaning.

Skin on skin, no clothes separating him from you, you didn’t register when he freed his body of them. Too lost to care, too much at once to have a sense of anything other than Sylus.

“You take me so well… My kitten—made for me…” he growled as he slipped every inch of him. Your warm walls protested at the intrusion as he mounted you.

Pinning you down, chest pressed against your back and your face shoved into your drool-stained pillows.

“If you keep struggling, kitten… I– fuck, fuck– you’re making it really hard to hold back” he groaned as his eyes zoomed in on your head trashing and shaking. The predator in him just looming around the corner, his female ready for the taking.

“It’s too big!” Your scream was muffled by the pillow. As your wailing reached his ears, his cock throbbed and released a few ropes of white.

“You’re being so good, kitten. Just a… bit longer…” Sylus sighed with pleasure as the creaminess made it easier to thrust into you. Incessantly, hitting that spongy spot, making you cry out as you felt more burning cum filling you up. Both breathless, both panting and an arrange of noises filled the room.

“I feel so full! Sylus! I can’t!” Tears streamed down your face at how bloated you felt, but he kept pushing and bursting inside you. One after the other; face down you had no other option but to take it.

“Not full enough— you need more…” hips slamming into you, the squelching sound of your insides consuming the silence— him bottoming out again and again. “My cunt… will only have my cubs…”

You’re not sure how long it was, you were in and out. Lost a daze, being shoved, pressed and pounded mercilessly… Sylus voice swirled through your mushy brain— satisfaction, and ecstasy running wild through both of your bodies.

Blinking once, twice. You felt heavy and your foggy vision wasn’t helping. You still felt the aftermath of it all. Legs sporadically spamming, lower tummy so heavy and sore.

“You… came so much…” you whispered in between breaths. His cum was dripping from your tender hole, rapidly pooling on the bed. “Why?”

He shrugged, as he caressed your cheek.

“A lion’s thing,” he mumbled softly, pulling you closer and gently holding you.

The rest of the day you were spent. Too exhausted to do anything else. Sylus bathed you, changed the bedding, brought you drinks and food, and gave you the darn manual to finish it for once.

“Sylus!” You slapped his naked chest with indignation. “Here,” you pointed to an article you highlighted, “it says that lion hybrids can copulate for two to three days? Two hundred times in succession? Are you insane?” That explains a lot.

“I am just waiting for you to rest, humans are more delicate than I thought. We’re not moving from this room.” He deadpanned.

Your expression fell as his eyes seemed to show how serious he was being.

“I read that lionesses bite the male’s ballsack when they are upset or something,” you grinned wickedly. “I will do that if you don’t behave!”

“I wouldn’t oppose, sweetie.” He goaded. Your smile slowly faded as your threat was not working as planned. “So… I see you are feeling more… energetic.”

You threw a pillow at him before he pounced on you.

Ah, yes… a gentle protector a trusted guardian, but a beast on the sheets.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker.  I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

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

You think Miguel is avoiding you. 

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point. 

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it. 

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow. 

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.." 

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here." 

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?" 

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?" 

"I don't have time for this-" 

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?" 

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans. 

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks." 

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now." 

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching. 

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-" 

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!" 

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall. 

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly? 

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out. 

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big. 

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm. 

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain. 

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies. 

"What happened?" He strains. 

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-" 

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye. 

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-" 

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple. 

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile. 

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you. 

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?" 

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does. 

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now. 

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?" 

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan. 

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact. 

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-" 

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-" 

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-" 

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it. 

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?" 

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?" 

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. 

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts." 

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears. 

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down. 

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning. 

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before. 

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now. 

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home. 

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time. 

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear. 

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?" 

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?" 

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?" 

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me." 

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me." 

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard. 

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes… 

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.  

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate. 

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you. 

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding. 

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?" 

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?" 

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?" 

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?" 

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?" 

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters." 

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word. 

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface. 

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head. 

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla." 

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning. 

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?" 

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this." 

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you." 

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

_

_

_

[rumisgf]

❝ YOUR BEST EATER ! ❞ ╰┈➤ AOT EDITION

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: rating how well aot men would eat you out ! (this is canon because i said so)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ includes: eren yeager, onyankopon, connie springer, jean kirstein, armin arlert

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: smut of course, crack, cursing, oral f!receiving, mentions of squirting, cum play if you squint, black!reader

EREN YEAGER - 7/10

✮ now i know y’all remember that one ao3 fic with the tongue piercing that went viral…

✮ yeah that was propaganda

✮ now listen listen— i’ll give him his flowers and he is good in bed

✮ but giving head isn’t his specialty

✮ BUTTTTT when he does eat you out, he makes you cum every time

✮ he spits on it :)

✮ in general his speciality? good dick

✮ he’ll eat you before he fucks you, but he can’t last too long cause the sight of you dripping has him rock hard

✮ one time you squirted while he gave you head and he swears he almost came in his pants

“so fuckin’ wet…”

“m-mm~!”

“jus’ a lil longer baby… need you nice and ready for my dick..”

ARMIN ARLERT - 8/10

✮ now him? head is definitely his forte

✮ there’s times he won’t even fuck you he just wants to taste you

✮ he whines.

✮ the vibrations of him moaning on your clit definitely sends chills down your spine

✮ and please, sit on his face

✮ he genuinely gets so pussy drunk and he stopped caring

✮ he just needs to taste you

✮ the feeling of you dripping on his face is addictive to him

✮ he just loves when you’re on top— whether it’s on his dick or his face

“please baby…need to taste you..”

“mhm? lay down for me then.”

JEAN KIRSTEIN - 6/10

✮ don’t shoot me i’m just the messenger

✮ i just feel like he would be too… rough… at first

✮ he generally likes rough sex so it’s just natural instinct to him

✮ butttt, when he does get the hang of it, it does feel good

✮ he just needed some practice

✮ he is good listener, i’ll give props for that

✮ the head is never terrible but he just can’t help but to wanna torment you a little it’s his favorite hobby

✮ he bit your clit once though. you had to smack him for that.

✮ he makes up for it though because the D is FIREEEE🔥🔥🔥!

“o-ow…jean wait..”

“sorry baby, got a little carried away…tell me how you want it, yeah?”

CONNIE SPRINGER - ♾️/10

✮ HE’S AN EATER!!!!

✮ he might as well tattoo ‘proud munch’ on his lip atp

✮ this man has skills that you have never seen before and he will have you whipped from how much you cream and squirt every time he goes down on you

✮ he’s so mean too… but in the best way possible

✮ you have an attitude? he’s eating it. you stressed? he’s eating it. you look good? he’s eating it.

✮ he doesn’t even have to spit on it with how wet you get

✮ he’ll eat it with your legs bent to your ears, from the side, from the back, on his knees, have you sit on his face, all that.

✮ he eats it before he puts it in by the way.

✮ and after. he’s nasty.

“ohmy- fuckkk~”

“i know baby, stay still… i’m not done witchu..”

ONYANKOPON - 9/10

✮ he just likes making you feel good

✮ he takes foreplay very seriously, so he likes taking his time with you

✮ he’ll definitely overstimulate you though, he thinks it’s fun

✮ he likes when you squirm it only turns him on more

✮ in contrary, he’s very sweet with it and does it to make you feel his love

✮ definitely big on body worship

✮ he’ll start off slow and massage your thighs while he tastes you

✮ his favorite thing is licking you clean after he already made you cum on his dick or with his fingers

“mmm~.. baby..”

“so pretty like this..just keep moaning f’ me..”

© rumisgf

[lovebugism]

could I request maybe shy!reader trying to play dnd with eddie but she's suuuuuuper nervous and confused and internally panicking about him not liking her anymore if she can't get into it?? Or if you wanna change it up please do!! love you!!

love you! hope you like it! — you get insecure about not liking d&d when a girl joins hellfire (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort ish, established relationship, 1.4k)

The Hellfire room is void of the boyish bodies that usually fill it. The abandoned classroom, turned freak sanctuary, is now littered with pieces the rogues, clerics, and bards left behind — in half-empty soda cans and crumbled-up bags of potato chips.

While Eddie packs up his binder, filled to the brim with miscellaneous papers, you wander around the long table with a trashcan in hand. The wild-haired boy squints when you chuck Dustin’s crushed Pepsi in the bin. “You don’t have to do that, you know?”

“It’s okay,” you shrug. “I don’t mind.”

Eddie huffs through his nose, feeling too exhausted now to argue. He slides his binder into his bag and watches you rake Gareth’s chip crumbs into the trashcan. The urge to stop you becomes unignorable then. 

“Okay, well, you know what? I mind—” the boy retorts, striding the very short distance to you and snatching the bin from your grip. He smiles a crooked grin and continues in a fantastical accent. “—‘Cause the Dungeon Master’s queen shouldn’t have to clean up after a bunch of lowborns, alright?”

You roll your eyes with a subdued giggle. “Someone’s gotta do it, Eds,” you insist as you reach for the plastic container he took. You exhale sharply when he hides it further behind him, pulling it further out of your way. “I wanna be of some use around here!”

Eddie’s face twists. “Don’t say that.”

You cower beneath his stare. “Well… It’s not like I actually play or anything. I just kinda… sit around… And watch you guys do everything…”

“Well, why would you play?” he laughs. “You don’t even like D&D.”

Something in the way he says it makes you ache. You’ve always felt distantly horrible about it — failing to take interest in something he holds so close to his heart. Hearing him reiterate that fact twists the knife lodged in your chest.

“That doesn’t bother you?” you wonder, impossibly shy. “That I don’t play?”

Eddie shrugs and sits the bin down again. “Why would that bother me?” he scoffs.

“I don’t know… ‘Cause you like it. And it’s your favorite thing to do in the whole world.”

“Well… Maybe not my favorite thing,” he croons with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Your nose scrunches in disdain. His laughter fills the empty room as his ringed hands spread warm along your sides. “I just feel bad,” you confess, gaze averted to the scuffed tile beneath your feet. “You know, that I can’t get into or whatever.”

Eddie meets your subtle pout with an unbothered grin. “There’s nothing to feel bad about. People like different things, babe. That’s life,” he assures you, squeezing softly at your sides. “I mean, it’s no different than me hating The Smiths, right? I still let you play their cassettes in the van, and you still sit in on all my campaigns— and that, sweetheart, is the meaning of true love…”

Unswayed, you jerk softly back when he leans down to kiss you. You frown up at him with your arms crossed between your bodies. “But Rory loves D&D. And she’s super pretty…”

Aurora Edwards was the newest edition to the Hellfire gang. She goes by Rory for short, though, ‘cause she’s cool like that and everything. Her dyed blonde hair is as wild as Eddie’s, cut into a makeshift mullet that sits sort of shaggy on her head — intentionally messy in a way only she can pull off. 

She likes cool music and cool clothes and cool hobbies — because everything she does seems to have some sort of subverted flair to it. She’s smart and she’s nerdy and she’s beautiful. None of which seem fair. You’ve been stirring with feelings of inadequacy since you met her. 

And Eddie doesn’t seem to get any of it. His brows furrow at your words, like none of them have any sort of meaning to him.

“She’s way more your type than I am,” you blurt.

A laugh sputters from his plush mouth. “You think my love for you is contingent on some stupid game?” he chuckles.

The way he says it makes you shrink. You feel sort of stupid about it now. “I don’t know…”

“Well, then, I have done a very shit job of being your boyfriend.”

Your chest stings. “No, you haven’t, Eddie—”

“Mm,” he hums, half playful, as he tilts his pretty head to his shoulder. “I have, though. ‘Cause if you think some other girl liking Dungeons and Dragons is gonna make me love you any less, then I have done something horribly, horribly wrong.”

You bite back a smile at his words, pursing your lips to the side of your mouth until the beam becomes impossible to ignore.

“‘Cause you’re kinda stuck with me, turns out,” the boy continues. “Unfortunately for you.”

“Unfortunately?” you echo with a scoff.

“Yeah. ‘Cause if some other schmuck comes around who likes listening to The Smiths and sitting in the sunshine, he’s gonna have to go through me.”

You breathe sharply through your nose in place of a laugh. “I don’t want another guy, Eds…” you confess, going shy all over again.

His nose scrunches as he plays coy. “Even if he doesn’t smoke?” he wonders in a sheepish murmur.

“Even if he doesn’t smoke.”

“Good,” he beams, pulling you into him by your belt loops. His breath fans over your jaw in a minty-nicotine concoction as he ducks his face closer to yours. “‘Cause I don’t want anyone else, either, alright? Even if they are almost as good as me at D&D… Actually, it’s kinda a turn-off, now that I’m thinking about it…”

“Is it?”

“Yeah… ‘Cause, like, I love teaching you about it and everything.”

“Even when I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

“Especially when you have no idea what I’m talking about,” he laughs, smiling so hard his cheeks speckle pink. “‘Cause you know how much I like it, so… You let me talk all the shit I want.”

“’S just because you’re so pretty when you talk about things you like,” you confess.

His face twists. “Am I?”

“Well, you’re pretty all the time, but…”

“You flatter me,” he huffs and pulls you closer. He smirks and goes quieter when he says, “And flattery goes a long way with me.”

“Does it?” you hum with a sunshine-coated giggle.

Eddie doesn’t answer you with words. He just presses his lips to your mouth and hopes you get the gist. His tongue swipes against yours, soft and sudden, as he guides you towards the table. You run into a rogue chair before he can get you on top of it. It screeches against the linoleum tile. 

With his face in your hands, you giggle against his mouth. His denim-clad knee slips between your thighs.

The door squeaks softly open then. Rory enters, swift and unthinking. You and Eddie pull apart — one looking much more horrified than the other — as the blonde girl stands frozen in the doorway. Drowning in her sweatshirt and baggy jeans, she points a lanky finger towards the table.

“Sorry,” she apologizes, voice gritty and deep. “I just left my girlfriend’s jacket here, and she doesn’t know I stole it, so… She’d definitely kill me if I forgot it.”

“That’s okay. Come in,” Eddie shrugs with a tightlipped smile, nodding his head in a silent invitation. When Rory plucks the coat from the back of her chair, he says, “Tell Jess I said hi, yeah?”

The girl scoffs as she heads back towards the door again, leaving just as quickly as she came. “She still hates you, you know that, right?” she laughs. ‘Cause Jess was a cheerleader — pretty and sometimes kind, but dreadfully conservative. Her uptight nature often clashed with Eddie’s much more chaotic one. 

“Well, tell her to get in line,” Eddie chuckles.

Before Rory leaves the room, she glances at the two of you over her shoulder. She winks with an eye smudged with black liner. “Have fun, you two,” she croons in a pretty voice before shutting the door behind her.

You stand, still and silent in place, wringing your anxious hands into a knot. Feeling like a total idiot, you refuse to meet Eddie’s gaze. You know he’s got a smug look on his face. You can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “See? Not my type at all.”

[minminbunny]

Best Friends to Lovers AU - Big Cock Singer! Bang Chan/Virgin Writer Gender Neutral! Reader

*smut part - AFAB/AMAB

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"Chris, are you bitchless?" you asked, biting the ends of your pencil. Chan furrowed his eyebrows, "If you mean single then, yeah?" he said, setting his headphones down. "What brought this up?" he asked, leaning back against his chair. You purse your lips, "It's just your new song for the talent show. It's very intimate," you said, pointing the pencil at him. Chan chuckled, rubbing the back of his nape, "I didn't write that, Changbin helped," he said, gulping down the denial. You squint your eyes, "Damn so your co-writer was the one that was getting laid?" you said, tilting your head. 

Chan nodded, "Exactly, I don't have time for a one night stand. I work at night," he said, defending himself. "Was it Changbin's idea to be topless too?" you asked, seeing through his lies. Chan gulped, "That wasn't me. It was a stunt devil. That looked exactly like me," he said, his ears heating. You nodded your head, "Ah. Is that so? He sounded just like you, too. That's amazing," you said, your tone heavy with sarcasm. Chan bit his bottom lip and nodded, "Ahm, very amazing," he replied, having the same tone of sarcasm. 

You sighed and smiled, "Bestie between the both of us. You're the one who needs to get bitches," you said, faux sobbing. Chan blinked, "Wha- Why?" he asked, his face in disbelief. You faux a frown, "Because if you're writing imaginary sexual songs. Then you're basically me just song edition. One of us gotta not be a virgin in this friendship," you said, wiping your faux tears. Chan scoffed, his eyes wavering, "Of course. The stuff I write is definitely about someone, not creative freedom at all," he said, nervously laughing. 

You gave him a deadpan look, "You're a terrible liar," you said, cupping his cheeks. Chan frowned and looked up from his seat, "You're one to say," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. You pulled away, "So, you really want someone to ride you, huh?" you asked, crossing your arms. Chan gulped, "Writing about riding is easier in terms of metaphors!" he exclaimed, shaking his fist. You scoffed, "Sure, if it were one song. I'm pretty sure you made like three," you said, squinting at him. 

Chan pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, "Fine! You fucking cunt, yes! Maybe I fantasize about myself getting rode . It makes a good song and it spurs the fans on. Are you happy now?" he huffed, cheeks flushed with blush. You nodded, "Pleased. When's the last time you got some anyway?" you asked, setting your stuff aside. Clearly, this was more important than assignments. Chan nibbled his lip, "Months ago? I don't remember, I woke up the next day alone with no note," he sighed, brushing his hair back. 

You licked your lips, "What if I rode you? Would you allow that?" you asked, shuddering at his icy look. Chan tilted his head back, "You're tempting a dangerous game, little one," he said, his voice husky and low. You gulped, "I didn't know you have this side," you said, feeling intimidated. Chan chuckled, "Well, you were always my bratty little dongsaeng. There wasn't a need to overpower you," he said, standing up to pet your head. Your breath turned shallow and heavy, "Chris," you whispered, not knowing how to proceed. Chan noticed your dilemma, "Say please if you want me to take care of you, baby. Say no if you want me to stop. It's up to you, little one. I'm only here to provide," he reassured, stroking your hair. His fingers lightly brush against your cheek. You shuddered, looking up, "Please. Please take care of me," you said, your voice breathy and needy. Chan smirked, holding your chin, "Of course, anything for you, baby," he said, booping your nose. 

NSFW BELOW CUT

AFAB

"You're too big in this position," you whined, trying to ease yourself down his cock but it kept slipping between your dripping folds. Chan chuckled, "Baby, I already fingered your cunt open with four fingers, I'm pretty sure you're letting it slip away on purpose," he teases, lightly tapping his cockhead on your clit. You're mewling at the stimulation, "Help me? It's scary on my own," you sniffled, arching for his cock to fill up your ribbed walls after the long dragging foreplay his fingers teased to loosen your tight cunt. Chan hummed, aligning his leaking cockhead with your slightly gaping hole, "Deep breaths, little girl," he growled, hearing the audible crude pop of your cunt accepting his girthy tip. 

You whimpered against his chest, slowly easing yourself lower and lower down his hot veiny shaft. Chan kissed your hair, "That's it. You're so close, baby. Another half more," he said, rubbing your waist. You lifted your head, "This is only half?" you whined, feeling so full. Chan cooed, gripping your hips, "Let me help," he chuckled, bucking his hips upwards. "Hah, ah, hah," you moaned, arching your chest towards him. Chan hissed, rolling his hips, "There we go. Down to the hilt," he groaned, stroking your thighs as searing hot walls engulfed his throbbing hard cock. 

You hiccuped, your walls fluttering around his curved length, "Hah, fuck, fuck, fuck. It feels so good," you mewled, feeling the obvious tummy bulge when you leaned back. Chan growled at the sight, “Ah, shit. You took me so well, babygirl. Look at that bulge, so perfect for me," he rambled, his hair matting to his forehead as hot breaths escaped his lips. You lifted your hips, and gripped his shoulders, "Oh, yes. Hah, hah, ah," you whimpered, feeling his cockhead messaged against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Chan growled, watching your thigh trembled each time to fucked yourself down his cock. 

Your bounce's were deep and through, his cockhead kissed your cervix every time you rode. Chan huffed, gripping your hips firmer, "I'm sorry, little one. I know it feels good but fuck are you slow," he groaned, thrusting his hips upwards in tandem with your bounces. You cried out at the sudden thrust, tears dripping down your cheek, "Chris, chris, hah, fuck!" You cried, burrowing your face into his chest as he fucked up into your needy cunt at a relentless pace. Chan nosed your neck, he licked and kissed your skin, "That feels way better, yeah? My big fucking cock pounding your tiny little cunt," he groaned, thrusting harder and faster. 

"Hhgh, hah, more please, ah," you moaned, your eyes rolling back at the constant pleasure buzzing through your body. Chan chuckled, kissing your forehead, "Cum for me, little girl. I can feel your needy cunt milk my cock. Your walls are fluttering so fucking much," he said, his voice husky and low. "There, there, fuck!" You cried, dragging your nails down his chest as your orgasm broke. Chan hissed at your scratches, your walls squeezing around his girthy cock, "Good girl," he praised, thrusting through your orgasm. You sniffled, whimpering when he continued, "Too much, Chris," you whined, feeling his rough fingers rub your clit in tandem. 

Chan groaned against your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin, "Shit, shit, hah. I'm cumming," he groaned, thrusting deeply one last time before pumping deep within your walls. Another climax broke from you, your ears buzzed from the pleasure. Chan rubbed your back, stroking your cheek, "I'm never letting you go now, little one. The moment you said please means you agreed to the casualties," he whispered, nuzzling your hair. You sniffled, burrowing yourself into his chest. Chan chuckled, "You're alright, baby. It's safe. It's just you and me," he hummed, slowly thrusting his cock in and out of your dripping cunt

AMAB

"You're too big in this position," you whined, trying to ease yourself down his cock but it kept slipping between your dripping ass. Chan chuckled, "Baby, I already fingered your hole open with four fingers, I'm pretty sure you're letting it slip away on purpose," he teases, lightly tapping his cockhead on your rim. You're mewling at the stimulation, "Help me? It's scary on my own," you sniffled, arching for his cock to fill up your ribbed walls after the long dragging foreplay his fingers teased to loosen your tight hole. Chan hummed, aligning his leaking cockhead with your slightly gaping hole, "Deep breaths, little boy," he growled, hearing the audible crude pop of your hole accepting his girthy tip.

You whimpered against his chest, slowly easing yourself lower and lower down his hot veiny shaft. Chan kissed your hair, "That's it. You're so close, baby. Another half more," he said, rubbing your waist. You lifted your head, "This is only half?" you whined, feeling so full. Chan cooed, gripping your hips, "Let me help," he chuckled, bucking his hips upwards. "Hah, ah, hah," you moaned, arching your chest towards him. Chan hissed, rolling his hips, "There we go. Down to the hilt," he groaned, stroking your thighs as searing hot walls engulfed his throbbing hard cock.

You hiccuped, your walls fluttering around his curved length, "Hah, fuck, fuck, fuck. It feels so good," you mewled, feeling the obvious tummy bulge when you leaned back. Chan growled at the sight, “Ah, shit. You took me so well, babyboy. Look at that bulge, so perfect for me," he rambled, his hair matting to his forehead as hot breaths escaped his lips. You lifted your hips, and gripped his shoulders, "Oh, yes. Hah, hah, ah," you whimpered, feeling his cockhead messaged against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Chan growled, watching your thigh trembled each time to fucked yourself down his cock.

Your bounce's were deep and through, his cockhead kissed your prostate every time you rode. Chan huffed, gripping your hips firmer, "I'm sorry, little one. I know it feels good but fuck are you slow," he groaned, thrusting his hips upwards in tandem with your bounces. You cried out at the sudden thrust, tears dripping down your cheek, "Chris, chris, hah, fuck!" You cried, burrowing your face into his chest as he fucked up into your needy hole at a relentless pace. Chan nosed your neck, he licked and kissed your skin, "That feels way better, yeah? My big fucking cock pounding your tiny little hole," he groaned, thrusting harder and faster.

"Hhgh, hah, more please, ah," you moaned, your eyes rolling back at the constant pleasure buzzing through your body. Chan chuckled, kissing your forehead, "Cum for me, little boy. I can feel your needy hole milk my cock. Your walls are fluttering so fucking much," he said, his voice husky and low. "There, there, fuck!" You cried, dragging your nails down his chest as your orgasm broke. Chan hissed at your scratches, your walls squeezing around his girthy cock, "Good boy," he praised, thrusting through your orgasm. You sniffled, whimpering when he continued, "Too much, Chris," you whined, feeling his rough fingers stroke your cock in tandem.

Chan groaned against your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin, "Shit, shit, hah. I'm cumming," he groaned, thrusting deeply one last time before pumping deep within your walls. Another climax broke from you, your ears buzzed from the pleasure. Chan rubbed your back, stroking your cheek, "I'm never letting you go now, little one. The moment you said please means you agreed to the casualties," he whispered, nuzzling your hair. You sniffled, burrowing yourself into his chest. Chan chuckled, "You're alright, baby. It's safe. It's just you and me," he hummed, slowly thrusting his cock in and out of your dripping hole.

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 2 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: a quick look through concerning the early months of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly centered around moments in the car

warnings (TW): swearing, illegal activities (of course), descriptions of panic/panic attack or general anxiety, alcohol consumption

tags: fluff, early relationship described, pining, very slight angst, affection

notes: i mean, i liked writing part one? so … i’m just gonna keep writing? do what brings you joy and all that jazz. alsooooo im currently unemployed and have too much time on my hands. any feedback is appreciated, seeing as this is the first (second) time i’m publishing online !

edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked my new masterlist that contains updated parts to this series, thank you and hope you enjoy!

word count: 3.7k

| masterlist | part iii |

When you reside within the same place as another, you begin to notice particular behaviors. Of course, Stanley had resided in an unquantifiable number of places in the last decade, but he had forgotten what it was like to live alongside someone. 

Forgot about the consideration of messes and manners, and forgot about his socks in corners and cans on bedside tables. These were things he never had to consider when he was confined to a single room and a shared bunk with his brother, but she was different. 

The first couple months he found himself stumbling around her at times. Let her lead through doorways, ask her what she would like for dinner, using odds and ends as a coaster here and there. 

But she was much the same in that way. 

She hadn’t ever had to share her space like this, much less with a man. She fumbled with answers concerning dinner, forgot her delicates in the washer routinely, and had a habit of throwing her feet up on Stanley’s chair when he sat across from her at their poor excuse of a dinner table. 

But this was months ago. 

No, they both had noticed these intricacies about the other and had more or less adapted around them. Laundry was done half-heartedly, a quick combination of their socks and delicates. A calendar made its home on the fridge with scribbles of dinner plans, and her feet were shuffled onto his lap every night, adjusted to fit across his hips. 

But she still leads through most doorways. He would never admit to why. 

There were other, smaller things too. These things made him ache somewhere behind his sternum, and he usually shook them off. 

Small things like how she curled at her end of the couch, or how she brought her face to any page she was scribbling on, always squinting. How she tidied the living room every morning like they would be having guests. How she came to the kitchen every morning, hand outstretched for the mug he had deemed hers. 

He decided to forget about these things. At least some of them that is. 

He knew for a fact that she loved it when he drove the most. She enjoyed the movement of the trees out the window, enjoyed stretching her feet up to his dash (despite his initial protest), and she loved the radio in particular. 

Common law says to keep your eyes on the road, and both hands on the wheel. But it was very hard to conduct when she leaned forward towards the radio, singing under her breath. She was so relaxed here beside him on the long bench in the front of his long-loved car. 

The car had been through hell and back, but he was sure it’d never encountered anything as enchanting as her bellowing singing. It would ring through the car, only ever on the way home, and only ever after a bar visit. The buzz would stray his eyes from wheel and headlights to her, head thrown back singing. 

He swerved on the road more than he cared to admit when she was in the car. The reminder of her safety usually woke him up from his fantasies of her with her head thrown back, with her hair spilling around her, and a flush on her cheeks.

But he rarely kept both hands on the wheel, to begin with anyway. His right arm always flung behind, scrunched on the back part of her seat, itching to find the soft back of her neck. 

Clearing his throat, he adjusted himself in his seat, both hands returning to the wheel. A smile never leaving his face, a laugh rising as she scooted closer, incoherent 70’s BABBA lyrics sung into his right ear. 

He’d admit he likes driving her, in particular, around. 

They had made for town for a handful of differing supplies that day. 

Stanley, Stan, had a bright idea to earn some seasonal money by making the front half of the shack into a tourist attraction. After an explanation of his initial encounter with a group of town folk upon his first couple days in the shack, she had nodded along in agreement. 

They needed money, and the need was only growing of course. 

She was the farthest from a financial advisor, but she knew the reserve of money she had come to town with was dwindling, and with them both diving head-first into Ford’s basement business, the idea of money had seemed trivial, at least to her, those first couple months. 

She knew though that money wasn’t a trivial thing for Stan (Stanley). That he hadn’t had a successful last decade, and that her life strayed from his own background astronomically. 

That was one thing that grated her slightly. How flippantly he spoke of Ford to her, but how he had not shared himself as willingly. It didn’t make him a liar to withhold said information, but the state of Stanley’s (Stan’s) car backseat that first month spoke of a man on the run. 

But he had lit up so differently when he dragged her to the front of the shack's cluttered room. Explaining where things would go, a cash register, a display case, and certain merchandise. She’ll admit to perhaps not completely listening to him at the time, but later she would look back and reflect on how he was unsurprisingly a great salesman. 

He had been so happy, dragging her from corner to corner, painting pictures with words, but he had looked too enchanting for her to really hear it. One hand in his pocket, the other gesturing, and a smile upon his handsome figure. He had reached back out, dragging her back to the front door, hand on the small of her back as he ushered her around. 

It was a dump up here, truly. The one place in the house she hadn’t gotten to scouring for clues yet. She was unsure as to why she left the room untouched at the moment, but she thinks it had a lot to do with the panicked memory of meeting Stan (Stanley), and how the glow of the backroom reflected on his face made her wander in through the front door like a madwoman. 

She made for the car very soon after his explanation, eager to get the supplies he would need to renovate the front of the room. He had beaten her of course, opening and closing the passenger door without so much as a prompt, and making his way to the driver's side. 

The drive into town had been great as always. It was one of those mid-spring days. Wet on the windshield and crisp until 10 a.m. The hardware store served its purpose, as they wandered from aisle to aisle, looking for particular wood stains and sandpaper. 

“Here it is Stanl-” He had come up behind her abruptly. Hand coming up to her mouth, stopping her sentence, flicking his eyes up and down the aisle. 

She turned to face him, an apology already on her lips. But he was already looking down at her, a hidden heat behind his eyes. 

“What did I tell ya, hun?” He whispered it in the space between them. “I told ya, I can’t be that here.” 

He couldn’t be him anywhere anymore, at least not in the light of day. She had tried to shake the old him, but somewhere in the far reaches of her mind, she had a hard time calling him Stan. 

Because she knew it meant he was being Ford, not Lee. And it was hard to lie about anything concerning him, concerning Stanley. 

He sighed, his hand leaving her lips and running through his long hair. “We gotta get outta here anyways. Come along, hun.” A practiced smile reached the corners of his mouth, another lie. 

Unfortunately for his psyche, the cashier wanted to talk their ear off also. 

“Oh hiya, Stanford!” And of course, they knew his brother. 

A smile crawled up his face anyway, making nice like he figured his brother may have done all those months ago. 

“Getting supplies? Any new projects?” 

“Uh nah nah, not at the moment. Looking into renovating parts of the shack for some business right now.” 

“Business? Really? Never took you for much of a businessman.” The cashier continued to bag their samplings of wood stains. “But hey, life takes ya in odd directions sometimes!” 

He tisked. “Don’t I know it buddy.” He shook his head a little, grabbing the bag, peering over his shoulder checking for his smaller shadow. She followed in his wake, slightly downtrodden to have cut their store visit short with her stupid mouth. 

“Oh, Stanford!” The cashier called, but he didn’t turn until she reached for his jacket’s dirty red sleeve, tugging to turn him back. Flushed, he meets the cashier's outstretched hand. 

“The receipt! You always want the receipt.” 

He crushed the receipt in his hand. “Right… right ya, thanks.” 

She followed him back to the car, her hand never leaving his sleeve, brushing her warmth against his slightly shaking palm. He doesn’t forget to open her door or to slam the wood stains and sandpaper into the back of the car. 

The ride back was tense, and not of its usual bravado and fanfare.  He had peeled out of the parking lot all too quickly and regretted it the next moment as he looked over and watched her pale in the passenger seat. 

She didn’t reach for the radio, hands folded on her lap. She didn’t look out her window, as the trees blurred differently under Stanley’s hasty speed. 

Under Stan’s hasty speed. 

He didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this mess. And he definitely didn’t want to upset her. His arm never met the back of her seat, his knuckles tight around the steering wheel. 

He didn’t think of pulling over until he looked at her halfway home. Ram-rod straight, pale as all hell, and eyes blurry with undescribed grief. 

He cursed under his breath, pulling the car off to the side of the road, gravel underfoot. 

She got like this at times, at his temper. He knew at times he could be loud, that he raised his voice at inconveniences and the T.V. Knew that her lip curled in a particular way when on a very off day, his frustration explodes in her face. He was quick to anger at times, and she was quick to cover. 

He made himself so big in the face of things, but she folded into a different shape when he did. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he prayed she knew that he would never turn his anger to her. That he had raised fists before and spilled blood, but he’d never raise them again unless it was for her, if she would allow it. 

But he doesn't want her to get small in the face of his, well, everything. Because he had been angry at so many things in succession in his life he lost count, and he doesn’t want to lose the part of himself that cared for her in his anger, and he doesn't want her to fold into odd shapes and shadows in the face of him anymore. But above all, he didn’t want the reminder of his father to taint whatever the hell this was. It was bad enough he saw glimpses of him in the passing reflections from time to time.

He loved the fight in her eyes when they spat back and forth sometimes, a sarcastic, fake fight brewing between them. That’s how they both always ended up laughing at the dinner table most nights, and how he felt closer to her most days. His anger was never her responsibility, or her doing. She had never truly upset him once, and the way they played with words back and forth over a meal like an old married couple rattled a few rusty cogs in his brain from time to time. That his anger could at least be amusing, because when she smiled he forgot all about it anyway. 

So he parks the car in Spring and turns to her with his guts in his lap for the first time since he spoke to her that Winter night when he thought his prayers had been answered when she plowed through the shack’s door like a tidal wave. 

“I hate this.” He sighed. “And I can’t stand when you fucking look at me like that.” 

Her lip curled. Fuck fuck fuck. 

“I know.” It wobbled out her mouth. “I ruined the day, I’m sorry.” 

He leans back, his hand meeting the back of her seat. A beat, before he turns to her completely, like he does every night across the dinner table with her feet propped across the entirety of his lap. 

“I don’t want you to apologize to me. You should never have to apologize to me. I don’t want you to, ever fucking think you gotta hand that over to me again. Because you’ve never done anything to upset me doll, not ever.” 

She sniffles, a moment of crisp silence. Spring rain beats on the windows in a mist. A smile comes to her lips, and he sags in relief, anger fading.

“Except when I forget the laundry on the line.” She’s cracking jokes now? 

“Except that ya, because I kinda need socks and underwear mmk?” He laughs only slightly, a tiredness seeping into his posture. 

“I didn’t used to be like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“A bad liar.” He admits. He hadn’t disclosed much of his past to her. He wasn’t ashamed of it much when it came to disclosing his long resume to others, but she made him nervous. And he hadn’t been really, truly, honestly nervous in a long time. So he did what he does best, and he lied. 

“I could buy the shirt off your back from ya in under 10 minutes I swear.” He readjusts in his seat again, hand slowly creeping up the back of her seat still. “I’m a great liar, it’s how I made it from state to state, and the reason I’m not allowed back in Pennsylvania.” 

She laughs truly now. She had figured that was what he was used to. Long trips and longer fibs. She didn’t care much about the morality of it, because when she imagined him somehow corrupt in her mind's eye she remembered him bent over her on the couch, and how it felt to listen to the T.V. fade into the background as he carried her up the stairs. The faintness of her sheets, and the brush of his hand on her hairline. 

“But I can’t lie about this, or at least I'm really fucking bad at it.” He interrupts her thought. “I’m the farthest thing from Stanford Pines.”

“Perhaps you are, Lee.” A name she hadn’t used out loud fell between them. “But no one ever asked you to be him.” 

She realized quickly in her desperation to reassure him that she was also being a hypocrite. It was hard to call him Stan, she realized, but only because she was afraid of hurting him. The memory of Stanford still lived between them, and although they tried to shutter his existence in the basement they both weren’t very good at playing pretend yet. 

But they would need to be. It’d need to be the best con he’d ever pulled, that they had ever pulled. He just wasn’t used to having a partner quite yet. But they needed to be honest now if they were gonna pull it off and bring Stanford home. 

“You don’t need to be him. I know you aren’t him Stanley, and I don’t want you to be.” She paused, considering. “If we are going to do all this though, we need to work together. I-I need to get better, I need to call you Stan, and you need to believe me when I tell you I’m staying for the long haul.” 

He sighs again, readjusting to look over at her. 

“I lived a long time trying to be something great like I thought he was, like I know he is. But I haven’t, I hadn’t, seen him in so long. I don’t know who he is anymore.”

“You both have a surprising lot in common, actually.” She shrugs, a smile coming to her lips in memory. “You both smile the same, and you both doodle the same way, and you both tilt your head to the left when I ask a dumbass question.” 

He laughs at this, a memory of passing scribbles and doodles in class back and forth, and the comic books he would spend all night drawing in their shared room’s lamplight. Some things always stick, at least. 

She bridged the gap of some odd ten years, and he could at least be thankful about that. 

“I just want you to know… Stan. That when I do call you Stan, I mean Stanley- not Stanford.” She shrugs again, nervous. “Because you’re not him, you're right, and if you don’t want me to lie about this one small detail, it can be between us.” 

She had somehow come to the heart of his predicament without much digging. He had worn many hats in his time bouncing from state to state, a conman, a businessman, a thief, and a liar. But he didn’t wanna make her one of those things, and he knew by associating with him she would need to be. Just in the blur of it all, he didn't want to be someone else to her. Not even in name. He wanted there to be honesty between them because otherwise, it wouldn't work. What wouldn’t work? 

He finds resolution in her answer. That he will always be Stanley to her, and Stanford to others, at least for the time being. Oddly intimate, closely personal. He wouldn't linger on the thought.

“You’re right as usual, doll.” A smirk comes to his lips. “Team?” He questions, fist uncurling from the back of her seat, brushing between them to meet for a bump. 

She smiles brightly now, meeting him in the middle. “Team.” 

He sinks in the seat, beat from the emotions of the last hour already. “Okay we need to do something fucking fun now.” 

“Like what?” Amused, she reaches between them to turn the radio back on, sick of the silence in the shell of the car. A hum already on her lips. 

He smiles, a scheme on his lips, a memory playing in his head when he looks at her. 

She flushes, a quick shake of her head. “No, no, no Stan, no I am not doing it no.”

He loves how she fights it but he knows how to get his way with her already, even if it has only been a short six months. Flushed in her seat, and begging him. Fuck. 

All he has to do is fucking smile, with that stupid glint in his eyes. “Yes, ya are!” He taunts, a laugh already bellowing. “You’re driving!” 

“I don’t fucking know how and you know it!” She had been embarrassed to admit it to him that one night, that she had made it this long without a driver’s license, but he had all but said please that night, vying for blackmail from her. He had told her about his kiddy comic books, so she had to fess up to something stupid of equal measure he felt. 

“I’ll teach ya!” 

He was already out his door and around the front of the car, opening her own, and reaching across her lap to unbuckle her from her seat when she continued to shake her head. 

She moved only when he began slipping his hand under her thigh and around her back to move her across the long bench to the front of the wheel. He sometimes forgot about where he put his hands on her, when he was giddy like this. She never minded, though. 

She was still shaking her head when he reached back over her to buckle her into her new spot behind the wheel, laughing all the way. Amused by her protest of this simple thing. Only amused, because he knew deep down she was actually okay with it. Another fake fight ongoing between them, some old cogs moving in his head. 

He moved back some, but resided half in the passenger seat and half in the middle, his big hand on her thigh. Fuck. 

He leaned down (Fuck), his other hand pointing at things she should have been paying attention to. This is like the shack all over again. 

He looked back at her, even more amused by her flustered face, and repeated himself like he knew what was going on in her head. Because, well, he kinda did. 

“This is the petal to the right, and the break to the left, doll.” He brings his hand back to the wheel. “This stick on the left is the turn signal, and this stick on the right is the shifter.” 

She began to breath again when he moved away, but he was still chuckling through ever sentence of course. Too handsome for his own good.

“Now all ya gotta do, doll, is shift from park to drive, but put ur foot on the break first.” 

“Uh… this one?” She put her left foot on the left most pedal. 

He squeezed her thigh, goddamnit, leaning back into her to basically physically move her foot. 

“No, no, ya gotta only use your right foot. You can’t use both.” 

“Why not?” 

He shrugs, tilting his head left at her dumbass question. “Because I said so.” He laughs again, hand still very warm and very present. 

“Okay, okay… okay.”

He nods. “Okay okay okay, now just shift the right rod up here.” He grabs her hand, bringing it up and showing her the different gears and how to count through them. Forgetting himself in his amusement, hand still on her fucking thigh. 

He laughs all the way home, and she thinks it’s worth the constant breaking she does in the middle of the road when she gets spooked by the speed of the car. The road is luckily empty, and the radio is drowned out by Stan’s commentary. She doesn’t mind the jabs at her newfound skill, and he takes jabs right back when she slams the break particularly hard and his head gets precariously close to the dash. She doubles over at that one, amused by the sudden shock on his face, but quickly distracted by the hand still on her fucking thigh. He thinks she looks nice like that, behind his wheel. 

They make it back to the shack in one piece, but he’s the one that has to reach over to shift the car back into park. 

He realizes when he looks back over at her, that he had forgotten his anger a while ago, and that his hand had made a new home on the soft of the back of her neck, moving from her thigh when he shifted gears. 

He would let her drive again, if it meant this. 

She’d admit she likes driving him, in particular, around. 

He’d just need to stock up on brake pads. 

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: After years of being split apart from your group, due to being taken and relocated by the Saviors, you run in to not only one familiar face, but specifically, the one you were searching for this whole time.

Warnings: strong language, apocalypse setting, swearing, mentions of knives, guns, bows, other weapons, mentions of killing (both humans and zombies), some descriptive text, reader gets taken by the saviors, mentions of scars, fighting, AGE GAP - friends to lovers, reader likes Daryl, Daryl hides the fact that he likes reader, some flirting, nothing too spicy lol

Word count: 4.9k | not edited also my first Daryl fic so be nice :)

A/N - I’m writing this for me, yes, but I’m also this for the ones who have a problem, I mean… are attracted to men old enough to be their father, so please do NOT read if age gap relationships make you uncomfortable! This also is more or less my version of the walking dead, the group meets Negan, but not like in the show.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

ＦＩＶＥ • ＹＥＡＲＳ • ＡＧＯ

There was no denying that you were Daryl’s favorite person to go on runs with, anyone that just showed up could tell you that.

You were fast. Efficient. Very get in and get out type of girl. You didn’t fuck around, and Daryl loved that - but he’d never tell you that himself.

He also swore to never tell you that he wanted you around him because you made him happy in ways that he didn’t really like to talk about.

You were like a breath of fresh air to him, you picked up what he liked and what he didn’t like almost right away, you were one of the very few people that he didn’t get tired of being around all the time, hence why you join him every time he goes on a run.

He wasn’t much of a talker, the very first two runs together, you got a few mumbles out of him, mainly telling you where to go and when to look out.

But, that was until your third run of many run with Daryl. It would be silent, and he would almost scare you with just talking outright.

It wasn’t more than a, ‘how’s your day?’

Or maybe a, ‘ya sleep last night? Y’look tired’

You would always give him a quick, straight to the point response, ‘tossed and turned all night, might need a new blanket or somethin’

Or you would tease him slightly with something along the lines of, ‘Days better now that I’m out runnin’ around with my bestie.’

He says he hated when you called him that, but he would always chuckle and try to hide his smile by pointing out something ahead.

You would go with it, rolling your eyes subtly before you squint, “Daryl, I think you’re seeing things.” You look over at him, “or you’re just scared to talk to me.”

He’d scoff, “Ain’t scared of nothin’, darlin’.”

All you could do was smile and look away, mainly to hide the red on your cheeks from being spotted.

It really wasn’t that Daryl was scared, it was just, as slightly embarrassing as he thinks, he didn’t know how to talk to you.

He would always try to remind himself that you aren’t this delicate little flower, you can handle yourself. If you couldn’t, he would have never stumbled upon you.

You both would keep moving, not really stopping unless a walker or something came out of the tree line. The more runs you added to the list, the more you realized that you were patient enough to wait on him.

You really did have all the time in the world.

Were you also young and twenty one years old? Sure. But in this world, you’d always like to think, What’s it matter, really?

You had to roll with what you found, and you got lucky that day Daryl found you under a fallen tree - long story short, he helped you out and as soon as he knew your name, he couldn’t help but want to bring you home with him.

And that’s what he did.

Daryl has also spoken, well, more or less make comments to Rick about the girl from the woods. He’d beat around the bush as his eyes followed you across the way, watching as Carol showed you around, “y’know that girl I brought in?”

Rock would nod, “Y/n?”

A smirk would play sure Daryl’s lips as he replays you taking out two walkers at the same time, “Little young, though. Ain’t she?”

Rick shook his head, giving Daryl’s shoulder a squeeze as he stood up, “You deserve what ever makes you happy, Daryl. We make our own rules now.”

——

“There was a convenient store on the corner of one of these roads.” You look at Daryl then glancing behind you, “I figured.. if we don’t find it today.” You glance back and then forward, “We can try and hit it another day.”

“Would ya stop fuckin’ doin’ that?” He looks behind you and then at you, “really freakin’ me out today, y/n. What’s goin’ on with ya?”

“Sorry.” You sigh, shaking your head, “I just have this really weird feeling like we should have just stayed back today.”

“You wanna go back?” Daryl stops as you take a few steps ahead before turning around. He nods back, “We’re not that far away, if y’feel safer goin’ back-“

“I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

“I’m not goin’ back.” Daryl was stubborn, but so were you, “Then so am I.”

He scoffs quietly, shaking his head as he nudges you with his elbow, indicating you to walk with him. You turn, staying a little bit closer to Daryl as you make your way down the road.

About an hour away, you stand up from the last of the boxes in a semi fallen down shed, “Nothing.” You turn to Daryl and he shakes his head, “Got the same over here.”

“No where?” You look around the room and he shrugs, “should prolly just head back, it’s gonna get dark here soon.”

The weird feeling you had from earlier returns and you sigh, “Not to be annoying, but I can’t shake this feeling.”

Daryl clenches his jaw, “Alright, it’s alright.” He picks up his crossbow, “C’mon now.”

It’s the way Daryl makes your heart warm with the simple, nonchalant ways he makes sure you’re okay, trying to make sure you’re calm without actually letting you know that that is what he’s doing, but you know.

You’ve come to know Daryl better than anyone in the few short months you’ve been at Alexandria.

“Did somethin’ happen or, what?” Daryl asks as he glances over at you, trying to keep up with your slightly faster pace.

You shrug, “I just feel like something is going to happen, Daryl.” You look over at him, “Something bad.”

——

Your feeling was proven to be worth something because the moment you entered through the gates, you were gunned down, Daryl, too.

“Gimme your guns.” A tall man says in a sing-songy tone as he bends down, looking you right in your face, “And your cross bow.” He looks over to Daryl and Daryl wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.

The man stands up, walking over to lean down in Daryl’s face, “Now.”

“Y/n. Do it.” Rick says catching your attention. Only your eyes move towards Rick, hands up as a gun is pointed right next to his temple, “Daryl. You, too.”

“I’d listen to your boss man, alright. I don’t feel like killing anyone today, which is..” the man tilts his head, scratching at his temple, “Odd, but anyone. Consider this your one time act of kindness because I can promise you, from here on out, ain’t gonna be purdy.”

You tilt your head, taking your gun from your shoulder and laying it down. You take your pistol and set it down next to the rifle, “That’s all I have.”

“Mm.” The man tilts his head, “I don’t believe you.” He grips your bicep hard, causing you to yelp as he yanks you forward and onto your feet.

“Let her fuckin’ go!” Daryl yells, and you know he’s already trying to get up, but the moment you get to look back, there’s a gun in his face, blocking his view of you.

You’re thrown up against the side of the old and dusty moving truck, groaning as your head ricochetes off the side with a thump, “Fuck, ow!”

You bring your hand up, pulling it away to see red when you feel a wetness on your skin.

“You mother fu-“ Daryl starts to yell, but the man puts a gun to your temple, “I’m just trying to do my job, now shut the fuck up or I’ll really give you something to fucking yell about.”

You keep your eyes on Daryl, watching as his eyes quickly move between you and the man holding you hostage.

“I’ll keep it professional.” He taps your shoulder, “Arat. Come check her for weapons.”

You were scared shitless.

You didn’t want to die, or anyone else to die.

Who are these people, you thought as the woman behind you slid her hands roughly over your body, “Simon. This is her.”

You head shot up as Simon, supposedly, laughs, “No fucking way.” He steps back, “Negan is going to love this.”

“Who’s Negan?” Rick asks and Simon turns around slowly to look at Rick, arms spreading out to his sides slowly, “We’re all Negan.”

Simon points to you with his thumb, “Load her up.”

The uproar that happens within your people is instant and there’s a shot fired into the air, making you flinch.

“That’s e-fuckin’-nuff.” Simon yells, “The girl is coming with us, and there’s-“ he raises his voice, “Nothing you can do about it.”

He walks you back to the truck, motioning with his gun for you to get in.

You take one last look at Daryl before you start to get in, heading Simon chuckle as he sighs, “Maybe you’ll see her again, maybe you won’t. We’ll be back with more orders. Until then, stay the fuck here or more we will kill your beloved.. whatever she is to you.”

Simon looks at Daryl, “You got that Robin Hood?”

Daryl holds his heated stare onto him and that’s the last thing you see before the door shuts.

——

“Well, well, fuckin’ well. What do we have here?” A deep voice boasts from behind you. You wiggle your wrists and close your eyes, feeling a presence move around you to your front.

You open your eyes and you’re met with a rugged dude in a leather jacket, a baseball bat that’s wrapped in barbed wire tightly secured in his fist, “You must be the girl who knows her way around those dead fucks out there.”

“What are you talking about?” You look up, eyes meeting the tall, older man and he just chuckles, “A few of my men saw you take on a group, I dunno, five or six deep..” he points to you with each word, “..All. on. your. own.”

You shrug, “I’ve been out there a while.”

“And how longs a while, sweetheart?” The man asks, squatting down in front of you.

“Two years with a group, three on my own.” You say quietly, your brain reminding you about the night had no other choice but to go off on your own.

“Holy shit.” The man shakes his head, “You hearin’ this shit, Simon?”

“Arat said it was her. I can get Gavin to confirm, too.” Simon answers and the man nods, standing up to pull a chair over in front of you, “If I untie you, you promise you’ll play nice?”

You were disgusted. You wanted to go home.

You wanted Daryl. You wanted Daryl more than anything.

You nod, hands gripping the arm rests as his knife slides between your skin and the rope, flicking the blade upward to get it to cut open.

He repeats it to the other side and leans back, “You seem like you have a pretty name.” He tilts his head, fingers rubbing over the stubble on his chin, “Do you have a pretty name, sweetheart?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n.” The man repeats in a whisper, “Damn. That is pretty.” He shakes his head, smirking as his eyes take in your, very nervous figure sitting in the chair, “Look.”

The man leans forward, “I’ll tell you this, alright.” You keep your eyes off of him, which seemed to upset him. His voice grew louder and his hand reached up to tightly grip your chin, “Look. At. Me. When I am talking to you.”

You force your eyes to his and he picks up speaking where he stopped, “You’re a little spit fire out there, okay. Which mean, you’re a delicacy to your little asshole groupies back at that shithole, what was it called? Alex- some for bullshit?”

“Alexandria.” You mumble out, keeping your eyes on his. He tilts his head back, his hand still gripping your chin, “Oh, oh. Right. Yes. Alexandria.”

The door behind you opens and the man drops his hand, “Gavin, my man. I need you to tell me if this is the girl you say in the woods a few weeks ago.”

The man stands up, spinning the chair around for, presumed, Gavin to see you. His eyes move over your body, “Does she have a tattoo or some sort of mark on the back of her left arm?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“When she lifted her arm, it-“

“Lift your arm for me, sweetheart.” The man spins you towards him and you have no other choice but to oblige, you strongly feel that the other choice is death, which you can not allow to happen now.

You pull your shirt sleeve up and the man scoffs, “Bing-fucking-o.” The man shakes his head, “Get a team together, we’re going to meet the people of Alexandria earlier than expected.”

He looks to you, “Take her up to a room. A good room. She hasn’t done anything to not deserve it yet.” He winks at you and you look down as you feel a hand grab your bicep to lift you to your feet.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

You stop, turning to look at the man with the baseball bat resting on his shoulder, “Who are you?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He walks over, tilting his head as he looks down at you, “I’m Negan.”

——

Your first day here was scary. You cried yourself to sleep, worried both about Daryl and the rest of Alexandria.

By the next morning, You were itching to get out, constantly looking for a way to escape, but they had so many people, no matter where you looked, you had eyes on you at all times.

To your surprise, the last week you spent with what you heard them call themselves, The Saviors, wasn’t in a stone cell like you pictured them doing the second you left that room on the first day.

You really didn’t know why.

You kill zombies, big deal. Doesn’t everyone else on this fucked up planet?

“Come with me, honey pie.” Simon says as he pulls you along with him, “Your time to shine.”

You’re taken outside, squinting at the brightness of the sun shining down from above. You couldn’t help but take a deep breathe, it’s the first time you’ve been outside in days.

“Get in and scoot over.” Simon commands and you climb up into the truck, your eyes meeting Negan’s as he steps up to sit into the passengers seat.

You don’t say a word to him. You just face forward as Simon smooshes you between him and Negan as he closes the door.

“So you and Robin Hood, huh?” Simon asks, referring to Daryl. You shake your head in response.

“Listen, sweetie. One thing we do around here, is answer people questions, with the words we learned how to speak. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” You say, clearing your throat, “No, me and.. Robin Hood are not a thing.”

“Seems to care about you like he does. You catch onto that Negan? The way he wanted to rip your throat out yesterday?” Simon chuckles, “Aw the look in his, man. I tell you what though, if looks could kill, you would have been dead.”

“Gonna have to take more than a nasty look to kill me.” Negan chuckles deeply, “Oh looky here.” He points, looking over at you as he sings, “honey.. we’re home.”

Your heart was racing as you seen Rosita motion to open the gate.

You watch her face shift into a shocked look when she caught glimpse of you through the windshield.

As you drive in, coming to a stop, you already see Daryl, front and center with Rick.

“C’mon.” Simon motions to you and you slide over, allowing him to help you down before you follow him around the truck. He pulls you closer to him, the click sending a shiver down your spine.

“Alright. Here’s the deal. You all want your badass, Duffy the zombie slayer black, but I don’t know.” Negan glances back at you, “She could be useful to me.”

You see Rick tighten his grip on Daryl’s vest and you send him a loving look.

“That thought didn’t even cross my mind, but you know what, how about this, If you want y/n back, give us half of your food today, and I want, we’ll make it easy.. ten guns by next week.”

“T-ten guns?” Rick asks baffled, “by next week? Negan that’s.. don’t you think that’s a little impossible?”

“Fine, make it fifteen by Friday, or you can say goodbye to the only chance you all actually have at surviving.” Negan points to you, “As you can she, she’s alive and well, now.”

Negan motions to the truck, “Let’s go.”

You shake your head and Simon grabs your arm roughly and you pull back, letting your fear get the best of you, “No, please. Nono, please no! No!”

Your pleads only set everyone on your side off, yelling and trying to push past the wall of Saviors.

Knives are drawn and you’re held to Negan’s chest, “Listen here! I make the rules. I have something you want and now, you’re going to go off and fuckin’ get me what I want. I’m done negotiating.”

“Negan, please. Just let y/n stay an I pro-“

Negan cuts Rick off, “You promise what, Rick? Huh? You already doubted yourselves with getting ten-“ He gasps, “Sorry, I mean fifteen by next Friday.”

He laughs, shaking his head, sighing as he brings his bat, Lucille, next for your face, “what makes you think you can handle the load of getting this thing here back.”

Daryl’s eyes squint as Negan calls you, this thing.

You swallow, glancing around.

You can take on six walkers, but not this many saviors, the walkers didn’t have rifles pointed at the people you’ve come to love and care for.

“Why are-“ Negan scoffs, “Why are we even still discussing this? You know what. Fine.” He pushes you to the back of the truck and you stumble, silently begging for help.

“If you’re going to cause this big of a fuss instead of just doing as I say..” Negan looks at you, “Then no one can.”

He shrugs, pointing Lucille at the open back, “Get in, or I kill someone.”

——

Ｐ Ｒ Ｅ Ｓ Ｅ Ｎ Ｔ • Ｄ Ａ Ｙ

You held your breath as you pushed your back up against the tree, waiting for the stray walker to move past you, knife at the ready just in case.

You slip around the tree, opposite way from the dead before you continue your journey through the woods.

It’s been, almost five years since you were left stranded in the middle of god knows where by Negan and his Saviors.

You weren’t even sure if they were still a thing or not, but jokes on them, you’re still alive.

And you’re full of fight.

You stopped at the river, bending down to feel the cool water on your fingertips. You’ve been walking all day, and you just needed to take a second.

You look up, taking in the scenery for a few moments before it all starts to becomes, familiar.

You stand up, looking around as your heart starts to pound. You shake your head, laughing slightly as you bend down to grab your bag.

If this is the river you were thinking of, then this river runs directly past your grandfathers cabin, and you can only hope that if Daryl was alive and out there looking for you, that he comes this way.

He should know about this, you stumbled upon it while on a run the one day. You remember about it, but all you knew was that it was next to the river that looked really pretty when the sun was setting, and it still does.

You only had about two hours of sunlight left, and you didn’t know how far you had to go yet, or even if you were going in the right direction.

If this cabin was here, maybe you could finally get a decent nights sleep, that is if it isn’t destroyed by walkers and the storms that plow through.

“I’m going to go get some more firewood.” A woman’s voice sounds through the trees. You stop, moving, furrowing your brows as you try and listen, but she’s already moving, walking away from the small building.

Your cabin.

You feel like you could throw up.

You turn around, trying to see if you can get a glimpse of who she was talking, too, but nothing.

“Raise your hands and turn around slowly.”

You whip around, catching her off guard before her face settles, “Holy shit.” Carol laughs slightly, “Daryl is going to lose his mind.”

She pulls you into a hug and you hear her sniffle, “oh my god, look at you.” She leans back, hands sliding over your hand and down your face, “You grew up.”

You smile slightly, your mind going back to who’s in the cabin, “Is he in there?”

“Every chance he got.” She shakes her head, “So much has happened.” You see the pain in her eyes but you opt to keep things happy right now, “we can talk later. I want to see Daryl first.”

She nods, brushing hair from your face, “Im so happy you found your way back.”

“It was hell, but right now, totally worth it.” You take a deep breath, “You go in first.”

She nods, walking a head of you as she leads you back towards the cabin, “Hey Daryl.” Carol calls as she smaller back at you, “I found something that you’re going to want to see.”

You stand by the fire, the glow illuminates you as you stand there waiting to see his face for the very first time in five years.

The feelings you had, never went away.

“What’d ya fi-“ His face falls and his arms go limp by his sides as he shakes his head, “No fuckin’ way.”

Tears well up in your eyes as Daryl slowly steps down off the porch, “No fuckin’ way.” He looks at Carol and back to you before quickly making his way over to you.

“Where the hell ya been?” He grabs you, pulling you into his chest tight, “I thought you were dead, I-.” He leans back, looking over your slightly older looks.

“Negan told us that he watched you get attacked by walkers.” Carol chimes in, finishing what Daryl couldn’t, “He brought back your necklace, there was blood on it.. we didn’t..”

You keep your hands on Daryl, your fingers moving under the sleeve of his jacket, “Negan snapped that necklace off my neck before they dumped me in the middle of nowhere.”

Daryl scoffs, pulling you closer to rest his chin on your head. Carol smiles as she watches the affectionate radiate off of him.

“They drove me way past the city, too. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure they drugged me or something because I was out for most of the trip.”

You feel Daryl’s grip tighten with your words and you shake your head, laying a hand on his bicep, “So much happened.”

You think back to all the stuff you had to do just to make it back to here, cringing at yourself.

“Ya hungry?” Daryl asks changing the subject and you nod, “Starving.”

——

Since the minute you found them, Daryl hasn’t left your side, and Dog right by his.

You were able to handle the news of the deaths and destruction among your group and homes, it hurt to hear, but it’s better that you know how than walking in expecting everything to be all sunshine and rainbows.

ou cried, but there was one question you needed the answer to.

“Are the Savior’s gone?” You looked up at Carol as she looks to Daryl. Your attention moves to him and he nods, “Ah, yeah. Yeah. But..”

“What?”

“Negan is at Alexandria.”

You’re on your feet, “What.”

“It’s only tem-“

You turn, walking away from Carol as she tries to explain, but you walk over to a tree, pressing your hand into it.

As you take a few deep breathes, you feel someone walking up to you, “I just need a minute.” You tilt your head, closing your eyes as you swallow the feeling of wanting to puke away.

“S’alot to process.” Daryl mumbles, unsure of what to do, “Take your time.”

Do you resent him now?

Are you going to leave again?

He wanted you to know everything, but he wouldn’t have if that meant you leaving again.

“Daryl?” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks, “Sorry I just..” he shakes his head, “please don’t leave me again.”

“Leave you again?” You laugh slightly, letting out a sigh, “Why would you think that I’d leave you? I’ve been looking for you.”

“I haven’t stopped. I came here because I-“

You smirk slightly, “Because you actually paid attention to your bestie?”

He gives you a small smirk, shoulders heaving as he laughs ever so slightly, “You’ve changed..” Daryl brushes his hand over your hair, his thumb gently brushing over your face, His brows furrow, “when did you get this?”

His finger brushes over the scar on your top lip, “Did someone do this t’you?”

“One of those assholes that pushed me out of the car, hit my face on a rock.” You shake your head, “It’s just a scar, Daryl.”

Which was one of many you have received.

“Sorry I-“

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” You shake your head, “What happened to me wasn’t your fault, okay.”

All he does is nod but you frown slightly, “Have I ever told you that I liked you?”

“I don’t think you’d come on runs with me if ya didn’t.” Daryl looks at you and you tilt your head, “No, like..” you bite your lip and sigh.

He laughs slightly, “M’old enough to be your daddy, y/n.” You smirk up at him, getting ready to say something but he pulls you towards him, “Watch out.”

Natural instinct, you have your knife in your hand within a second and you both swing around, the blades of your knives entering the dead’s skull in unison.

You look at the knives and back to Daryl, “Either way I look at it.” You pull your knife from the walker, “You and I will always have unfinished business to take care of.”

Daryl shakes his head as he withdrawals his knife, “You think?”

You lay your hand on his chest, “I know.”

You couldn’t let yourself feel what you’ve pushed through, but both Carol and Daryl can see that.

“Hi, boy.” You bend down to pet Dog, your shirt riding up to reveal a slightly bigger scar than on your lip. Daryl’s eyes fixate on it right away and he clenches his jaw.

Before he can ask, you stand up, “You fix up everything?”

“Yeah, go take a look.” Daryl sniffles and walks towards Carol as you walk into the cabin. Memories of growing up here flood through, almost breaking that barrier until Dog pushes between your legs, whining as he trots in.

“Do you need anything?” Carol asks walking up beside you. You shake your head, hesitating to look over at her at first, “No, no. I’m good.”

“We can head back to Alexandria in the morning.” She rubs your back, “It’s really good to have you back.”

You smile, nodding, “It’s really nice to not be alone.”

“What happened out there?”

You shake your head sluggishly, “I don’t-“

“Okay.” She says quickly as Daryl walks in. You look up at him, “I think I’m going to go lay down.” You walk over to where your bag is and sit down.

You bring your knees to your chest, eyes focusing on Dog as he glows in the light of the fire.

A few moments later, Daryl’s footsteps move closer to you. He stays silent as he moves to sit next to you. He brings his arm out, laying it around your back as he pulls you into his side.

You immediately fall into him, your head on his chest, arm around his torso. He inches back, just enough to lean against the wall for support.

Daryl looked down at you, gently playing with strands of your now long hair, it was just a little past your shoulders when you were separated.

You lost weight from having to scavenge for any food that was safe to eat.

He knew what you went through was tormenting you, he just wanted you to know that you aren’t alone.

“Look at me, y/n.”

You roll over into your back, head in his lap as you stare up at him.

“When you’re ready to tell someone, m’here f’ya.”

You close your eyes as his hand strokes over your hair. You haven’t felt this safe in a while, so you were just trying to soak it all in without having to worry every single second of the day and most nights.

“I love you.” Daryl whispers, “Should’ve told you that years ago.”

“It’s about time you say those words to me, Daryl Dixon.” You sit up, keeping your chest on his arm as you lean in, “I love you.”

——

I started to hate this towards the end but I NEEDED to get this off of my chest. I hope you enjoyed. As always, I love you so much. Thank you for reading! 🖤

likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[sincerelybubbles]

It's a Date part 2

warnings: fluff, descriptions of being touch starved (? idk) not really edited oopsies

synopsis: things go well after f!reader and spencer's date, spencer helps reader see that she's wanted and deserving of affection

part 1

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

“Sorry, it’s messy,” you say, wringing your hands as you walk through the door. You hear Spencer laugh out through his nose, a quick burst of air that has you spinning around to watch him latch the door. 

He’s shaking his head, hair falling in front of his eyes, nose bridge crinkled. 

“What?”

“You’re acting like I’ve never been here before.” He twists the deadbolt and walks over to you, shaking his head one more time before slipping off his shoes and heading into the kitchen. 

“I don’t know, I guess it feels different, somehow, now that …” Neither of you has tried to put a label on this. It’s been weeks, coffee dates squished between hectic work schedules, yawning absences while he chases cases with the team, and one movie night at his place that had you listening to him rant about the inaccuracies of a historical drama you picked out. It’s been lovely, you adore his tendencies to go off on tangents, enjoying simply watching him light up and trip over his own words to get everything out. It feels like he’s racing to say whatever he can before you interrupt him. You never have, something he commented on during your second date. 

“You know you can just tell me to shut up when I go off about stupid stuff like that. Everyone does, I’m used to it, I don’t want to bore you.” “Why would I? It’s not boring or stupid — it’s stuff you care about and I like hearing what you care about.”

“Now that, what?” Spencer asks, settling his back against your counter and resting his hands on the edge behind him. 

He’s still in his work clothes, tie loose, gun at his hip, hair behind his ears. 

One thing you didn’t expect from him? Confidence. You knew he had to be confident in some ways — he’s never doubted his intellectual ability that you could tell — but it only took a short time for him to gain his comfort around you. No longer did he blush and bumble his way through sentences, struggling to meet your eye. Your first kiss actually seemed to clear that up quickly. 

It happened feet away from where you’re standing, outside of your door, after dinner. He reached forward to brush an eyelash on your cheek as you said goodbye, you leaned into his hand and, after a moment and with a burst of adrenaline that fueled your forwardness, you leaned up and toward him, a hand on his arm, and brought your lips to his.  He was hesitant, fingertips brushing your cheekbone, but he came to life as you pulled away to ask him if this was alright, palm meeting your cheek fully and bringing you in for a proper kiss.  Excitement was evident by the way he pressed closer to you, stepping nearer and putting another hand on your waist, locking you in place. Under the excitement was a tenderness you’ve never felt before. He kissed like he wanted to take all the air from your lungs but he held you with the sort of care that made your lungs ache for a reason entirely seperate from the kissing. 

“I don’t know,” you say, chickening out from asking for the hundredth time, going to meet him in the kitchen. 

“Hey,” Spencer says, catching you by the waist and pulling you to come stand near him with one hand on your hip. “Ask,” he says, tucking his chin to grin down at you, nudging your foot with his.

“Why don’t you?”

“I’m afraid to scare you off,” he says with a smile. Behind his eyes, though, you can see the truth in it. 

He called you the morning after your date. Young sunlight caught in your eyes and caused you to squint as you searched for your forgotten phone, spots dancing and dust creating a kaleidoscope as you pressed answer.  “Hello?” you asked, confused. It was Spencer, wishing you a good morning. He went quiet when you asked why he called, if everything was okay.  “Everything is fine, sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.” “It’s okay, I need to be up soon anyway. Why’d you call, though?” “I just couldn’t get the thought out of my head last night that I must have done something to mess it all up. I wanted to call and make sure I hadn’t.” “You could never, Spencer.”

You know the uncertainty still rears its head, even with the confidence that’s fostered with time. 

“It feels incredibly juvenile,” you say, rolling your eyes and smoothing your hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders. 

“Ask,” he whispers, “I’ll say yes. All you have to do is ask.”

The week after your first date, Spencer showed up at your office, panting, a bag in his hand. You stood up, shocked to see him at the station, and hurried out to meet him in the lobby.  “You said you wanted lunch from the Chinese place down the road because you forgot to pack something,” Spencer said by way of explanation. You had mentioned it, briefly, in a text. “I was just complaining, you didn’t have to spend your lunch break on this,” you said, eyes welling up with tears. You reached forward, ignoring the bags, and pulled him into a hug. “You’re entirely too sweet to me. This was too much.” “Nothing is too much, all you have to do is ask.” 

“When I call back my friend later,” you start, determined to ask while looking in his eyes, drowning as you do it, face heating, “can I tell her my boyfriend came to spend some time with me?”

It’s sort of a cop-out, of course, and Spencer catches it — you’re not directly asking, but he nods anyway, then laughs, leaning forward to kiss you. 

The kiss is messy, he’s laughing and you’re smiling, but you appreciate it all the same. 

“Why are you laughing?” You ask, leaning back and catching another kiss on your nose and then your cheek. 

“There’s a few reasons. I never thought I would have this, for one, and I guess I’m just happy.”

“You guess?”

“I know.”

You wind up in bed. Nothing nefarious, not yet — both of you understand that space to breathe and grow together is much more important and that awkwardness needs to settle into comfortable familiarity before crossing that specific line. 

Spencer drags his finger across your cheek, tracing your bone structure. His other hand is tucked under your side, holding your hip and keeping you close. 

The feeling in your chest is heavy, pressing up into your throat and capturing any words you could dare to think. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks, voice a whisper, breath fanning across your face and causing little hairs to prick up across your arms. 

You nod, looking him in the eye and signaling the truth. His nearness wasn’t causing you distress but the unfamiliarity of it is hard to not become consumed by. 

You squeeze your eyes closed, nose scrunching and fight tears. 

“Are you sure?” Spencer asks, voice hesitant, fingers leaving your face and arms pushing to give you space. Space you don’t want. Space that makes your eyes snap open, searching for him, afraid he might waltz off any moment. 

“Yes,” you say, voice certain and hand snapping out to grab him before he can go too far. 

Tears well up in your eyes, against your internal fighting. You huff out an embarrassed laugh, leaning forward to press your forehead into his shoulder. His arms tighten around you, hesitant around your waist and cradling the back of your head. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, please,” he asks, voice soft, begging, an undertone of a demand that you adore. The sense that he would do anything to ensure that you feel better washes over you. It makes the sweetly-sick feeling well up into you further, drowning your senses. 

“Nothing is wrong,” you say, cuddling into him, slipping a foot inbetween his and tangling yourself tighter, “it’s just been a while since I’ve felt … wanted. And I do, now, with you — feel wanted. At least, I hope I am.”

“You are,” Spencer interrupts, reassuring. 

“It’s nice but I don’t really know what to do with it.”

“It?”

“The feeling, I guess.” You shrug. “I suppose touch starved is the right word, but it feels like more than that.”

His grip tightens as your tears come with a faster frequency, to your own annoyance. 

“I’m sorry, this is a really nice moment, I’m beyond happy, I don’t mean to ruin it.” You attempt to pull away to wipe your face but Spencer doesn’t let you. 

“Did you know that some studies show that a lack of connection socially is more detrimental than obesity or smoking? We literally need to feel connected to other people. And that’s just social connection — when left alone without any type of physical connection, specifically physical connection from someone you care about, depression, stress, and physical health can deteriorate. It’s natural to feel overwhelmed when you’re finally getting what you need — what everyone needs.”

“Touch starved,” you whisper, allowing him to hold you tight, relaxing further into his hold.

“Sorry?”

“Touch starved — I’ve heard people call it touch starved.”

Spencers hand moves to stroke your hair, picking up strands and twisting them before smoothing it down again. 

“That feels like an apt term for it.”You fall asleep like that, warm and pressed into his side, listening to him softly tell you about his week, feeling secure and wanted in a way you never have before.

taglist: @0108s22m @bowerfeithwk @screechingphantommaker @cultish-corner @doigettokeepyou @izukuwus

note: i really intended on this being more so please forgive me -- let me know what you think! i welcome constructive criticism as well as any and all thoughts you have!!

now that i've finished this, i might attempt another part to give u guys more but i also am taking requests/thinkin' of new things to write!! more spencer to come, as well as possibly some hotch, so keep an eye out

ily all and tysm for the support <3

[itstheghostofmypast]

Big Spoon

Non-Idol Choi San x (F)Reader

Summary: Who knew he'd wake up bleary-eyed to find her a mess, one that was out of her control and his - or so he thought.

Genre: Fluffish

Warnings: None (just mentions of sad puppies)

Word Count: 1.3 k

Est.Read Time: 10 min

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

Banner: @cafekitsune

"What are you doing?" He sat up, squinting at his lover who was sitting with her headphones on, blasting God knows what at 2 am. Good lord, no wonder the bed seemed so lonely and-

"Why are you awake?" She snapped at him, causing him to flinch, his little pout and amusing bed hair had her mentally scolding herself for the outburst, he was sitting there half asleep, half awake, though completely ready to get to the bottom of this mystery. She took a deep breath before biting her lip and mumbling, "S-sorry, I didn't mean to sound mean, client called and Hongjoong needed more photos so I uh...got up to do it now so I won't have to do it later- just because that lady's rich. " Turning the chair to face him she winced slightly, hoping he wouldn't notice it, though how would it be Choi San if he didn't?

"What's wrong?" He asked pushing the covers off as he sat at the edge of the bed, feet planted on the cold floor. The moment of clarity allowed him to notice the small hot water bottle on her lap, and the cup of green tea in front of her beside a giant flask and a tissue box- "Were you crying?" He cooed, getting up to go closer only for her to whine and roll her chair back, keeping her distance.

"Hey, come on." He pouted before jumping at her causing her to gasp, only to realise he had held onto the armrests of her chair, locking her in place, "What happened?"

"I-it...nothing." She mumbled, averting her gaze, in no real mood for anything at the moment, she just wanted to finish editing these photos and- "Does it hurt here?" He asked, gently placing his palm against her belly, causing her to whine and try to push it away, only for him to shake his head  and remove his hand, instead using it to cup her cheek, "Let me guess, you got the call, they asked you for something that makes no sense, and shark week hit mid brooding session?"

Her eyes widened by the end of his little monologue, as she nodded, staring at him in awe like a little girl who had just met a fairy, well, he was a fairy, a rather feline-looking fairy she could call her own. Elegant, yet endearing, soft and warm yet as solid as a rock, smart yet, just a little dumb- either way, he was her pretty, cute, little fairy- though if he heard this analogy he'd probably be throwing a fit for days, claiming he was anything BUT A FAIRY- he was, as he'd like to call himself and his bros (minus Wooyoung because frankly she had realised he was the only sensible one in the lot)  A KING!

"How did you know?" Her lips quirked upwards when he leaned closer to place a soft kiss atop her head, a gesture that would oddly make her all putty in his hands.

"Because I'm the world's best boyfriend." His voice boomed across the quiet room causing her to cover her ears due to heightened sensitivity, before frowning up at him

"The world's best boyfriend missed one thing though."

His shoulders deflated at the statement, and he flopped backwards on the bed dramatically, his back landing with a loud huff, "And what is that?"

"I was crying cause- " her breath hitched as the memories resurfaced,  "Some dogs go through depression and this puppy did too- I was watching the video and it was so sad...Sannie" she whined, calling him out for God knows but the flashing images of the puppy and the stupid client's appeal just bothered her even more, the cherry on top was the excruciating pain that was a constant reminder of how the world is too cruel to women.

Not a moment later she was gently pulled out of her chair, engulfed in a warm embrace as his familiar scent enveloped her senses, work left behind, as she felt the soft, warm pillow- nope that was his arm, "My head's heavy," with a small mumble she tried to move, but he clicked his tongue and pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head, "And my heart is heavy....my poor baby is in so much physical and emotional pain and I can't do anything about it-"

"We're never getting a puppy."

"I- um...okay?" He mused, giving her a gentle squeeze, of course, that one video of the sad puppies would make her come up with this verdict, possibly fuelled by her hormones. Making her laugh right now probably wasn't the easiest task, which is why he resorted to asking her the real question, though gentle toned and carefully curated, using his other hand to rub soothing circles on her back as he approached the topic, "I thought you sent the client all they asked for, did they want something out of the contract?"

With a loud huff she began, only to pause for a moment when another cramp hit, her fingers gripping his shirt as she took a deep breath before speaking (venting), "Apparently some of the guests, who refused to take solos then, now want their solo pics because the others who did get their solos taken got good results- like flattery will get you nowhere, I can't pull out your solo pics from my as-ah shit, " she hissed, trying to move, "I need my heating pad." He was quicker than her, jumping over her, letting out a hearty laugh when he heard her squeak and let out a few vulgar words. As quick and agile as a cat he hopped back on the bed, turning her on her back as he placed it on her lower belly, "There, all better?"

Nodding she placed her hands on the pad, pressing it against her skin before sighing, continuing, "Anyway, someone was like oh can you like crop us out and put us somewhere to turn it into our logo- you mean cut you out and paste the image, spend time blending, shading, fixing the highlights- no, because its not in the contract and I'm not being paid more for this."

"I...wow..." he mumbled, running his fingers through her hair soothingly as he sat beside her, looking down at her only to notice her trembling power lip and glossy eyes, "What's...wrong...baby, you don't have to do anything that wasn't under your contract." He hummed, tracing his fingertips over the slightly warmer skin of her forehead absentmindedly, "You want me to talk to -"

"That puppy was so sad, he looked like he wanted to cry and..." Turning to her side, as she closed her eyes, the rush of emotions getting a bit to strong, the tears leaking through her clenched eyes, hugging herself. This was stupid, she had ruined his sleep, woke him up in the middle of the night, snapped at him, told him stories that were irrelevant and then ended up crying about a video on puppies.

"I like being the big spoon."

Oh- that's why she felt so warm, and-

"How is laying on top of me the bigger spoon, you're crushing me."

"I'm protecting you from the bad vibes. Told you Hongjoong as a boss sucks, man's a capitalist monster."

With a sigh she relaxed in his hold, the added weight actually helping with the pain, both, physical and psychological.

"To sleep, you should stop thinking, leave your worries, for tomorrow's you." He sighed, giving her another squeeze, though he didn't recieve any response to his wise words, he could get them printed, "You asleep?" He whispered peeking over her shoulder only to smile,  two hours, they'd been awake for two hours, listening to God knows what she was going through, biological and induced. Either way, he was glad that she had the world's best boyfriend, he'd probably boast about this tomorrow to her, when she's in a better mood, when she's well rested and probably complaining once again, about how Hongjoong finding the dumbest, but richest clients. Need not worry, she'd always have someone loyal, sincere and the best big spoon out there- all her's.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky

[johnpriceslamb]

𝓽 𝓱 𝓻 𝓮 𝓪 𝓭 𝓮 𝓭 𝓮 𝓵 𝓮 𝓰 𝓪 𝓷 𝓬 𝓮

🪡 Before you joined the gang, you used to be a tailor. An event was coming up soon which involved looking fancy, meaning that you had to take his measurements for a new suit.

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓔𝓓 ! ⋆ female ! reader ⋆ hyper-feminine ! reader ⋆ very suggestive content w/ javier ⋆ close proximity ⋆ reader is mentioned to be physically smaller than said chars ⋆ poorly google translates spanish >.> ⋆ not proof read nor edited ⋆ wrd count/1.2k

🪡 arthur morgan ⋆ charles smith ⋆ john marston ⋆ javier escuella (sep) x f! reader

🪡 𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓷,

“stand still!”

You prattle on for the umpteenth time this evening. The loyal enforcer of the gang grunts at the feeling of the cold tape measure wrapped around his bare waist, as he begrudgingly lifts his arms up to avoid messing up the measurements.

“For someone so little,” He groans at the feeling of the flexible measure tightening deliberately around him, “You sure do have a lot of attitude.”

You ignore him, of course. You scribble down the exact number of his measurement down on a piece of paper with a slight hum. The beads of your delicate necklace hang delicately off your neck as you bend over the edge of the table a bit, elbows propping your demure head for support. Arthur couldn’t help but boredly take a peak of what you were writing down, before ultimately sighing as he hopes for this to go a little quicker.

the cigar in his mouth hangs low on his bottom lip, embers flying out from the tip. He takes another slow drag, before letting it out with a gentle sigh- to your direction. You throw the man a puffed-cheek glare, your little nose scrunching up at the smell.

He wouldn’t admit the fact that he felt warm when your fingers would touch his body so subtly when measuring him. Or when your face was so close to his ragged skin, he could really feel your soft breath. Did you always look that pretty when you’re concentrated?

“Hey, Arthur?” That familiar high-pitched voice catches his attention. His hands lazily grab ahold of his low-hung belt, before leaning in.

“Mh?” He lowly grunts, squinting his eyes at the sight of your beady eyes staring up at him. He chews at the end of his cigarette, letting out a huff when the smoke unexpectedly enters inside his body.

You cheekily smile, tinkering your dewy lashes at him to feign innocence. The pencil in your grip is tapped multiple times on the paper, “Wouldn’t pink be a suitable colour choice for your suit?”

“[name].” You’re lucky you were blessed with a cute little face, otherwise he’d have no issue throwing you in the lake nearby.

🪡 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓮𝓼 𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓱,

“..I’m not familiar with getting measured, I apologise if I make anything difficult.” Charles quietly explains to you in that baritone voice he had. You can’t help that sweet fluttering in your chest at the apology.

“Nonsense!” You wave him off with a toothy smile, “All you’ll have to do is stand still.”

The gentle giant in-front of you slowly nods. He’s not uncomfortable, but he’s kind of on the edge since this was new to him. But since it’s you, he can feel some of the tension in him melt. Usually, he tends to avoid interacting with other people at camp.

But you? Something about you made him draw closer.

“Just a matter of standing still? I think I can manage with that. No trouble with me.” A ghost of a smile slowly etches onto his dark skin at your expression. Almost.. puppy like.

You’re about to measure his full height to ensure the exact proportions of the suit are balanced, only to realise..

Your height (lack thereof.. oops.) comes in as a bit of an issue here. For plot purposes, there aren’t any stools around nor could you go on your tippy toes to measure him fully.

“..Ah.” Charles blinks at the situation. Amusement crosses his face, before gesturing to hand over the end of the measuring tape. He holds it just at his head, patiently watching you peak at the number it falls down to at his ankles.

“Oh my..” You let out a tiny squeak at the number, a shy smile appearing on your sweet face before scribbling it down on a piece of paper nearby.

“Oh my?” He repeats you, “What? Is that.. Is that bad?”

“No, no!” You stammer, meekly brushing your hands over your light pink petticoat, “You’re just.. Y’know. You’re tall.”

“Oh?” He smiles lightly, lovingly looking at your light expression, “I hope that won’t be too much of a problem.”

“It’s not a problem. Quite the opposite, actually.” You quietly mumble the last part. Oh dear, you can feel his gaze, practically warming up your soul, staring at you as if you hung the stars. You feel your cheeks heating up.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing!”

🪡 𝓳𝓸𝓱𝓷 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓷,

never in your life have you wanted to smack a man in the face so badly.

“Woah,” John grins like a newly wet dog from running through a puddle, “Y’here to take my measurements or to feel me up?”

All you did was just wrap the tape around the swell of his hips. Your cheeks puff out, purposefully tightening the tape to get your point behind.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind either way.” He cheekily smiles, before scoffing at the feeling of the measuring tape deliberately tightening around him.

You swear you can smell the scent of booze. You ignore it, before straightening your back to measure his waist. What you can’t ignore however, was that raspy drawl his voice had which somehow makes you fall for him over and over again.

He may be as dumb as rocks, but his little antics drew you in.

“Hey,” He calls out to catch your attention. You sweetly tilt your head up, and to the side when he looks down at you.

“You gon’ pick the colours of my suit, or do I get to?” He asks curiously.

You ponder, “Well.. Do you want to?”

He thinks about it for a moment, before coming up with an answer. “Nah. Reckon you should. You’re the professional, after all.”

You can’t help but let out a soft giggle, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

When you’ve finished his measurements, you excitedly turn to him to discuss the colour choices which’ll be appropriate for the event coming up soon. Both of your eyes meet and he peers down at you with a loving gaze, it catches your breath a bit before you force yourself to look down at the notes which contained your notes.

“I think your suit should have a low v cut to really show that upper-body of yours. Perhaps a classic navy blue as your primary colour, and— Hey! Are you even listening to me?”

He blinks a few times, a bit sheepish. “I am, I just don’t got a clue on what you’re saying, sweetheart.”

You can feel your hand tighten.

🪡 𝓳𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪,

“Ah.. Quite close there, aren’t you?” He has this.. devilishly handsome smile you want to wipe off badly. He peers down at you as if you were nothing but a little dollie while you measured his chest.

“‘M not trying to be!” You whine, going just a bit lower to wrap the measuring tape around his waist now. You hum delightfully as you find the exact number, squinting your eyes to see where the tip of the measurement tape lands on.

While you’re busy with your own little thing, you don’t notice the way Javier admires you from above. He can’t help but comment on it too.

“You know,” He starts of with a slow, lazy smile. Mischievous, even.

“You’re looking very pretty working down there.” He puts a lot of emphasis on the word ‘very’ in his sentence. It’s subtle, but if you were to be paying attention to him you’d get it immediately.

You tilt your head up to innocently thank him with a small smile etched on your pretty little face, before realising what his words were implying. That little..

“Javier!” You scold him with a very high-pitched tone. You feel your dignity fading away as soon as he replies with a mocking laugh to your whining.

“You know I’m just playing around, chica. Don’t take it so seriously.” His hand goes down to cheekily pinch your squishy cheek to get his point through. You frown.

“You’re horrible.” You babble, begrudgingly taking his last measurement. You’re very tempted to give him the cold shoulder, but decided against it.

“You’re too kind.” He sarcastically replies, that same lazy grin on his face from the start as when he sees you scribbling down some notes about his measurements and preferences. You throw a tiny glare at him, “I’m the one creating your suit here, be nice!”

“Mhm? I haven’t gotten to express my gratitude yet have I?” He takes the notepad away from you, setting it aside before easily picking you up by the waist and setting you on the table, your legs dangle off the edge easily as he nears you.

“Permiteme que, querida.”

[seospicybin]

ON THE ROAD.

PART I

Bangchan, Han & Jeongin x reader. (s,f,a)

Chapters: Part II

Synopsis: A group of friends going on a road trip that, little did they know, will change their lives forever. (19,1k words)

ON THE ROAD PLAYLIST.

Author's note: My inbox is always open for feedback and your wild theories hehehe enjoy this one too! x

A famous author once said that friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too?"

For years, Chan believes that in order to make friends, he has to have common things with them, for example, having the same favorite books having the same hobbies, etcetera.

That's what he thought until he found out that in real life, that's not always the case.

Chan learns all about friendship when he meets his friends. He first met them at the art school 8 years ago and they remain good friends to this very second.

Because they're now living in different places and working in various professions, they have this weekly group video call every Friday at 8 pm.

Chan is so busy editing videos that he almost forgets that it's Friday and it's ten minutes to 8, he hurriedly opens his laptop to start a video call with his friends. He knows it'll take them some time to come online so he notifies his friends through the group chat too, not forgetting to add that he'll not make them watch a foreign movie tonight in the hope that they'll hurry.

That's one thing about Chan, he's passionate about movies and dreams of becoming a great movie director someday. Other than that, Chan has many great qualities about him. He's smart, he's good looking, he lives a healthy lifestyle, and a true social butterfly, something about him that makes people comfortable being around him. Those qualities combined with his dimpled smile create this magnet that attracts a lot of girls.

However, Chan only has eyes on one girl and one girl only.

"Oh, hi, Chris!" A voice that's way too familiar says through the laptop, a voice that evokes something deep within him and sends a tingle down his spine.

"Hi, Jinnie!" Chan says back with a smile.

-

Jinnie's Friday night is like any other night, she's drawing in her studio with the scented candle filling the room with the soft and sweet smell of vanilla. At times, she'll take a break to sip her tea and check her phone for the time.

It's almost 8 and she wonders why the group chat isn't blaring with notifications, she pouts thinking that everyone is too busy to have a video call tonight.

Just like the universe heard her wistful thinking, her phone chimes with a notification and her face lights up as she opens it.

It's Chan sending a link to the video call. Jinnie wastes no time to get on her laptop and clicks on the link that takes her to where everyone is going to virtually meet. A few seconds later, her face appears on the box on the screen next to Chan and that means she's the first to come online after him which is not a surprise.

"Oh!" She delightfully gasps, feeling happy to see a friendly face even though they had one of the video calls a week ago.

"Hi, Chris!" She greets him while smiling and enthusiastically waving her hand through the screen.

"Hi, Jinnie!" Chan replies with his sweet, dimpled smile.

It's kind of adorable to find him waving with his muscular arms and Jinnie can't help but smile. She adjusts her desk lamp to give her proper lighting then stacks her hands together.

"It's always us, huh?"

"What?" Chan asks as he leans closer to the screen.

"It's always you and me," Jinnie says, pointing at him and then at herself while half laughing.

Chan cracks a laugh at that, "And that means Jeongin will come next."

"Cause we all know who will come last."

"You mean who will come late?" Chan corrects him with a smirk.

Jinnie lowly chuckles and grabs her cup of tea from the other desk, "How are you, Chris?"

"I'm doing great, I guess," he answers.

"I guess?" Jinnie squinted her eyes at him as she repeated his words, "You've been staying up all night again, did you?"

"Well, uh..." Chan tries to make up an excuse but fails, he covers his eyes in embarrassment and laughs it off, "I tried not to."

"Are you working on something?"

"Yeah, I'm editing these videos for a short film I did with a friend," he answers.

"Oh? Is it the same one as the one you told me?"

"No. It's a different one."

"I know you're working, I hope you keep taking care of yourself well, Chris," Jinnie warmly tells him, genuinely concerned as a friend.

Jinnie has always been like that, kind, attentive, and a great illustrator, she's as gentle as the colors she uses in her art. She's beautiful but not solely because she's the only girl in this group of friends.

Jinnie's outer appearance matches her inside and you rarely find that kind of person.

The other often think of Jinnie as an angel that unluckily fell on this part of the earth, right in the middle of this friendship, and has become a blessing to everyone ever since.

"Oh, there's Jeongin!" She gasps, showing the same enthusiastic and bright smile whenever she sees her friends.

In other words, there's lucky to have Jinnie as their friend.

-

The letter feels heavy on his hand even though it's only a piece of paper, a piece of paper that holds his future and will forever change his life.

Jeongin should be happy, this is what he wants but something is tugging at his chest. He slips the paper back into its envelope and hides it in between pages of the book he's reading.

He reclines on his chair and runs his hands through his hair, feeling torn but he doesn't know what makes him feel that way. He closes his eyes as if it would help him shutting his mind off and ignoring the chimes that come from his phone until he remembers to check it.

Using his hand, he gropes around the table to find his phone without looking and unlocks it to find some notifications, the first three are coming from Chan.

Jeongin rushes on his chair realizing that it's Friday and he forgot about the video call. He immediately gets on his computer and logs into the link Chan sent him through the group chat.

Despite knowing that he's late, he remains calm because he knows he'll not be the last to join, there's someone else who will come later than him.

The screen takes a moment to load the video call and he appears on the lower box between his two friends, Jinnie and Chan.

"Oh, there's Jeongin!" Jinnie exclaims in joy, as beautiful and bright as usual like she's bringing her own sun wherever she goes.

"Well, Chan said we're not going to watch a weird foreign movie so here I am," Jeongin jokingly says.

"Thank you, Jeongin," Chan says, poking his cheek with his tongue, easily offended as expected which truly shows he's the oldest one in this group of friends.

"But the last one we watched was really good," Jinnie says, defending Chan with his exquisite taste in movies.

So here's the thing, everyone knows that Jinnie and Chan would make a perfect couple but it's a mystery why they're not dating yet.

Jeongin knows for sure that Chan has a feeling for Jinnie and it's so obvious, but he can't say the same about Jinnie even though it's impossible that she missed all of those signs.

Or maybe love is a simple thing because Jeongin is someone who watches from the outside and it's different for those two individuals involved. But still, Chan has been there all along and Jinnie doesn't see it, which infuriates Jeongin at times.

Whenever he sees them together, he gets the urge to point out everything but instead of that, he lets out a sigh and then puts on a smile.

"So, how are you guys?" He asks.

Jeongin has always been the quiet one, but don't take his silence as ignorance, he's very observant. He watches everything and remembers everything to the tiniest details, that's also why the others become extremely careful with what they say or do around Jeongin because they know he has their cards under his sleeves.

But being observant also means he has sound judgments about things, he's fair and sensible and that makes Jeongin the most reasonable one.

"I'm great. I'm having a cup of tea with me," Jinnie says, showing the cup of tea she's holding with both hands with her eyes forming two crescents as she smiles.

"And I'm good, thank you for asking," Chan says with his dimpled smile.

"I'm not asking you, Chris," Jeongin jokes.

Chan presses his lips together until they form a thin line and lets out air through his nostrils with his eyes closed while Jinnie is giggling.

"How was the recital going?" Jinnie asks.

"It went well," Jeongin answers.

Honestly, everything went so well, he's still playing piano as always and has shows to do but something about it makes him feel a little distressed that he feels the need to shift the talk.

"Well, we're not watching Chris' weird movie tonight—"

"It's not weird," Chan groans in disagreement and a glare aimed at him.

Jeongin refuses to correct his earlier remark and continues, "So what we're going to do tonight?"

Truthfully, Jeongin really needs the distraction tonight and he doesn't mind at all even if it means he has to endure three hours of watching a movie he can't understand, plot or language-wise.

"I have an announcement," Chan says.

"What kind of announcement?" Jinnie curiously asks with her eyes comically widening.

Chan swivels his chair to the side and plays with a stress ball in his hand, "I can't say anything yet until everyone gets here," he says.

Jeongin groans as he reclines on his chair and covers his face, knowing that it'll take only God knows how long until the last person finally comes online.

"In that case, I'll get myself a can of soda first," he says to everyone, then gets up from the chair.

When he returns to his room, Jeongin notices that the fourth person has joined the video call. Actually, he can hear it even before he enters the room from his babble.

"I know you guys have been waiting for me. No need to get that excited!" Han says, acting like he didn't just make everyone wait for him as usual.

-

Han is trapped in his own head like usual, arranging words in his head to make good lyrics for the track he made last night. He pictures those words in his head as he hums the melody to himself and then jots them down in his notebook.

He puts the headphones on again to hear the track once more, singing the lyrics to fit the melodies and only realizing that his mom is calling for him once she appears in front of him.

Disoriented, Han sits up on the bed and puts his headphones down, "What's wrong?"

"I've been calling you for dinner!" His mother scolds him.

He lets out a chuckle and takes his headphones off altogether, "But it's only five," he says.

His mother must have been so used to seeing him in his room and unaware of the time.

"I put the dinner in the oven," she informs with a dramatic head shake before exiting his room.

Is it dinner time already? He looks around for his phone on the bed, he's sure it's somewhere in there. He's flinging the duvet and then there's the sound of his phone falling onto the floor.

"Owh?!" He gasps, covering his small mouth with his hand.

Han rushes to the other side of the bedroom and picks it up, fortunately, his phone doesn't crack or break, but the time...

"Oh??!" He gasps again in a rather panicky tone.

It's almost 9, he's late for the video call again. He rushes to his laptop and it won't turn on because it runs out of battery.

"Ugh!" He groans as he struggles to plug it in the first time and groans again as he plops onto his chair.

It's always like this, losing track of time when he starts working on something. He remembers it was only four when he started writing his lyrics and now it's almost 9 pm.

It's like the laptop knows he's in a hurry it decides to take more time to boot and Han nervously taps his fingers against the desk, knowing that he makes his friends wait for him for the umpteenth time.

His fingers are typing as fast as they can to log in to his account but it takes him another moment to load the video call.

"Work faster you piece of a—"

"Welp. There he is!" Chan exclaims, looking annoyed but relieved at the same time.

"Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence," Jeongin says with the right amount of sarcasm in his tone.

"Oh, hi, Han!" Jinnie says, being the most welcoming out of the three.

"I know you guys have been waiting for me. No need to be that excited!" Han playfully says. He knows they're upset and tries to lighten the mood.

In his defense, he didn't do it on purpose. It becomes a habit at this point and he knows everyone will eventually let it slide.

"I guess you've been busy working on your lyrics again, huh?" Jinnie asks, propping her hand under her chin.

"No, I was helping my mom fold the laundry," Han makes a joke out of his own life.

Unlike everyone else, Han is the only one who hasn't figured out yet what to do with his talent for producing music. He's been working on some tracks but that's about it.

"Anyway, what kind of weird movie are we going to watch tonight?" He asks, shifting the talk to something else.

Chan clicks his tongue and says, "Thank you for making it obvious that you didn't read the group chat."

"Well, I opened them but didn't read them like all cool people do," Han confidently says with a sly grin plastered on his face.

Despite the uncertainty of his career, Han thinks he's the coolest of them all and doesn't care if anyone thinks otherwise. He's funny, and he's the mood-maker of the group but in all honesty, he's just being his authentic self 24/7.

"Okay, now since we're all here..." Chan says, sitting upright in his seat.

"Oh, so we're not watching a movie tonight," Han says in utter confusion, this is why he shouldn't be late so he won't miss out on a lot of things.

"Just shh..." Jeongin hushes him with a finger in front of his jutted lips.

"You're not like... dying, right?" Han hesitantly asks because Chan puts on a serious face, "It's cause you look so pale..."

"I've always been pale. What are you talking about?" Chan grumbles in disbelief, not accepting the fact that his pale skin makes him look like he's dying to him.

"Hannie!" Jinnie sharply calls his name, that is her way of sparing herself from using profanities

"I told you to just shh..." Jeongin scolds him more.

"Okay, okay, I'll shut up," Han says with both hands raised in defeat.

"Anyway," Chan reels the conversation back to the main thing and claps his hands together to get everyone's attention, "I need you guys to get days off for a week at the beginning of next month."

"But why?" Jeongin asks.

"Jinnie, Jeongin, I give you guys a month of forewarning so there's no reason you can't do it," Chan explains, not taking any excuses.

"And you're not concerned about me?" Han asks, feeling left out.

"That's because I know you're always available," Chan shortly answers.

"I need to ask permission from my mom!"

"To do what?" Chan squints his eyes at him.

"Permission to go on a road trip with you guys," he innocently answers.

"You're not some 12-year-old going on a school field trip," Jeongin reminds him that he won't be needing that.

"Oh, yeah, okay," Han meekly says with a nonchalant shrug.

"Well, that means I only need to finish some of my drawings early," Jinnie calmly says.

Chan smiles at her through the camera, "I know you can do it," he sweetly says.

"Thank you, Chris," Jinnie says with a smile.

"Wait, wait, you haven't answered my question," Jeongin interrupts the tender moment between the two, "Why?"

Chan sucks air through his teeth and stretches his arms out, not sure if he's trying to show off his muscular arms or just wanted to stretch them out.

"Because we're going on a road trip!" He announces in a cheery tone.

Jinnie grins in reaction and then claps her hands in excitement, "That sounds fun!"

"Where are we going?" Jeongin further asks.

"I don't want to spoil it yet. It's a surprise," Chan replies.

"I doubt that it'll be a good surprise," Han says just to annoy Chan.

"Just trust me on this!" Chan remarks with a confident smile.

"I just can't wait to spend time with you guys," Jinnie warmly says, being not shy to show her excitement which makes Chan get a little flustered.

"For the rest of this month we'll stop the weekly video meeting," Chan comes with a shocking announcement.

It's the only way they can hang out with each other and knowing that they won't meet until further notice kind of bummed him out.

"Why? Why? Why?" Han repeatedly asks like a parrot.

"So you guys can sort things out," Chan explains, "and Jinnie needs time to finish the drawings, right?"

"Yeah, but..." Jinnie looks a little taken aback too, "I'm sad that we'll not be hanging out for weeks."

"But we'll meet again," Chan assures her.

He clasps his hands in front of him and goes into serious mode once more, "I need you guys to gather at Jinnie's on the first day of July and I'll pick you up there," he informs.

Jinnie nods

"What should we pack?" Jinnie asks, even getting her notes ready to write them down.

"Pack clothes for a week, swimsuits, sunblock, hiking shoes..." Chan lists various things.

"Hiking shoes?" Han gasps, "I'm not going then."

"Even better," Jeongin lightly comments.

"Any more questions?" Chan asks everyone.

Han raises his hand even though he's not in a class, "How's your little sister doing?"

This is where Chan gets a little more serious, he hisses and then says, "I'm not taking any more questions then."

"Why are you so against us dating?" Han pokes fun at him, knowing that he doesn't like it, especially when he asks about his sister.

"Wouldn't it be nice if we become in-laws? We can be brothers for real!" Han annoys him more.

"I'm going to say this once and for all, I don't want to become in-laws with any of you," Chan firmly remarks and then crosses his big arms together.

"So that means you're okay with us dating..." Han relentlessly annoys him with a smirk dance on his face.

Jeongin drops his head into his hands and shakes his head witnessing the interaction while Jinnie is quietly giggling with her cup of tea in hand.

"How am I going to survive not seeing you guys for weeks?" Jinnie sadly says with a pout.

"Not me. I'll manage," Jeongin coyly says, reclining on his seat while playing with his hair.

"We'll see each other soon," Han assures her this time.

Jinnie smiles and cups her cheeks with both hands, "I can't wait to see you all," she says.

There's a moment of silence but the comfortable kind and not conjure any questions, everyone lets it go on for another moment before it gets to the time to end the video meeting.

"See you guys soon," Jinnie says, blowing air kisses through the camera.

"See you guys. Don't miss me," Han says with a sly grin on his face.

"There's no being late," Chan warns a specific someone.

"Jeongin, don't be late!" Han averts the blame to Jeongin.

Jeongin shakes his head again and raises his hand at everyone, "Bye, everyone!"

"See you guys in a few weeks," Chan says, waving his hands close to the camera then ends the video meeting.

-

A FEW WEEKS LATER

When you asked Chan if you could tag along on their road trip, he said no for what you guessed these two reasons: one, he hates seeing you around the boys and two, he hates for you to see him act around the girl he likes.

But, of course, in the end, he said yes for one solid reason: because you're his sister and he can't say no to you.

It's so obvious that Chan is nervous and you guess it's because he's going to meet the friends he hasn't met in weeks and more importantly, a certain someone that he secretly misses but can't tell.

As Chan's little sister, you notice these kinds of things, the change of attitude or how he gets nervous all of a sudden.

"Unclench your jaws, Chris," you remind him.

"I'm not—" he stops himself from talking and does as you told him, unclenching his jaws.

He may have unclenched his jaws but now his shoulders tense up. You take matters into your own hands and push his shoulder down.

"You're way too nervous to see a friend," you poke fun at him.

"Shut up!" He spews out and you know it's coming out of his nervous system.

Everyone knows that Chan likes Jinnie and he's always been for only God knows how long, you guess you're not the only one annoyed by the fact that they're not dating yet because they're just so perfect for each other.

"Okay, shutting up now," you say, making a gesture of zipping your lips together to not let the scary mad Chan come out.

The car makes a turn toward an apartment building and Chan parked it next to the entrance. It seems like Jinnie has been waiting for his arrival, she comes rushing down the stairs from the second floor where her apartment is.

"Oh, my God! Chris!!!" She excitedly comes up to him with open arms

Chan is obviously as excited to see her and catches her right into his arms, he even lifts her off the ground for a moment and gives her a spin.

They're so stinking cute that you can't help but smile watching them through the rearview mirror.

"Good to see you!" She says once he puts her down.

"Good to see you too," Chan says back while holding her hands in his.

When you deem that it's the right moment to insert yourself into the scene, you get out of the car and slowly make an entrance.

They're so immersed in each other that you hesitate to burst their cute little bubble.

"Hi!" You awkwardly wave your hand at her.

Jinnie's face lights up when she sees you, "Oh, hi! Long time no see!"

You come up to her to exchange a hug with her, "Long time no see, indeed."

The fact that she, possibly, would become your sister-in-law doesn't bother you at all, Jinnie is as perfect as one can be. She's beautiful and kind, the nicest human you've ever known, you couldn't be happier if that becomes true.

"I hope you don't mind that I brought her along," Chan says, flashing a thin smile at you.

You shoot him a side eye in return and stay by Jinnie's side.

"Are you kidding? I'm happy that I have a girl companion," she says, pulling you close to her side and squeezing on your shoulder.

"Jinnie, do you mind if I use your bathroom?" You ask, getting the urge to pee all of a sudden.

"Not at all. I'll take you—"

"That's okay. I know where to go," you kindly refuse her help to show you where her bathroom is.

That way, you can give them another moment to catch up with each other. As you climb the stairs to Jinnie's apartment, you see how Chan is grinning from ear to ear and it seems like it will stay like that until the road trip ends. Maybe that's also another reason why he agreed to let you join the road trip, Chan needs a good wingman by his side.

-

The moment he got out of the taxi, Han immediately thanked Jeongin non-stop.

"Thank you Yang Jeongin," he says, calling Jeongin by his full name.

"If you didn't pick me up, I'd be dead late," he grumbles, lowering his voice as he's a bit ashamed to admit it.

"I just knew you'd be late," Jeongin says while hoisting the strap of his backpack higher on his shoulder.

Han hurriedly puts on a smile to greet his friends, acting like he almost got here late for the road trip. He sees his two friends, Chan and Jinnie putting their stuff in the back of the car.

"Rejoice everyone. Your favorite boy is here!" Han announces his arrival while walking in big, confident strides.

Chan and Jeongin just leer at him and Jinnie is the only one giving him a proper welcome.

"It's so nice that everyone's here!" She exclaims, smiling even brighter than the scintillating sun.

She gathers everyone into a circle and puts her arms around Han and Chan's shoulders.

"I missed you guys," Jinnie says, jumping on her feet like a child. She really is the special glue that sticks them all together.

Deep down, everyone feels the same way, Han must say it feels good to reunite with them, it evokes the same feeling of coming home. They're huddling together for a big group hug, relishing that longing for each other.

Han breaks away first to take the last empty spot on the trunk for his backpack, "Dibs!"

Chan and Jeongin groan in unison but at the same time, not surprised to see this display of childish behavior from Han. Chan continues organizing everyone's stuff in the trunk with Jeongin's help while Han comes around the car.

"I'm riding shotgun!" Han shouts, calling dibs for the passenger's seat.

Jinnie appears from behind the car, "I think Chan's sister will ride shotgun," she informs.

Han thinks he misheard her, he lingers by the car door and turns to ask her, "Who?"

"Chan's sister, she's coming with us for the— oh, there she is!" Jinnie points at the stairs.

Han's eyes are following where she's pointing and turns his head that way.

"Oh, everyone's here!" You say as you look at everyone from the top of the stairs.

Time suddenly goes so slowly as you descend the stairs, softly smiling as the gust of wind blows your way, sending your hair flying, and with the sun shining down at you, it creates a halo around your head.

Jeongin accidentally bumps him as he opens the car door, "sorry," he shortly says.

Han is completely gobsmacked to care, his eyes just can't stop following you even after you arrive at the base of the stairs and walk up to the car.

"I think it's true," Han foolishly says with a gaping mouth.

"Huh? What?" Jeongin asks in confusion.

"When the love is real... it finds a way," Han dramatically sighs with eyes big and wide like seeing something so wondrous.

Jeongin gives him the side eyes, but he decides to ignore him and gets into the car.

"I'm going to lock my apartment first," Jinnie informs, going up the stairs to her apartment.

"Hi, Han," you greet him.

Han tries not to crumble hearing you calling his name and instead of answering, he awkwardly raises his hand at you with a stupid grin on his face.

"Are you sitting in the front?" You ask.

Han's brain is not well functioning yet and it takes more time for him to compute a word.

"Well, then I'm going to take my bag," you say, stepping forward and getting in between him and the car door to take your bag from the passenger's seat.

The smell of your perfume is sweet and soft yet it's enough to get him intoxicated, he wants more of it. He suddenly has no desire to ride a shotgun and arranges a new plan in his head.

He rushes to the back of the car and yanks at Jeongin's jacket, "Jeongin, get in the backseat!"

"What?" He asks in utter confusion.

"Get in the backseat! Hurry!" He urges him, opening the seat to the back so he can move.

Doesn't want to deal with him, Jeongin reluctantly moves to the back as requested and Han sets the seat right back up, then keeps the car door open for you.

"Get in," Han says to you.

"Oh, thank you," you mutter, carrying your bag in one hand as you get in.

Noticing Jeongin in the backseat, you smile and greet him, "Hi!"

"Hi," Jeongin sheepishly says to you.

Han sees that Jinnie has returned from locking her apartment and hurriedly opens the car door for her, "You can sit in the front, Jinnie."

Jinnie looks at him, perplexed, "I thought you are..."

He can't hear the rest of what she's saying as he gets into the car and sits next to you.

"I hope it's okay that I tag along for the road trip," you say, putting your bag on your lap.

Han realizes that he should get his act together and forces his brain to function, "It's more than okay," he says with a smile.

This road trip turns into a chance of a lifetime for him. What could be more fun than being stuck in a moving vehicle with a girl he likes?

Chan gets into the driver's side, sighing as he's exhausted from arranging the trunk, and puts the keys into the ignition.

Oh, fuck, Han forget about the part that her brother is in the mentioned moving vehicle too, and drives it. Now, his sense of protection is heightened after seeing you sitting next to him.

"What's with this seat arrangement?" He asks, glaring at Han through the rearview mirror.

He innocently shrugs while Jeongin is staying quiet in the backseat by himself, enjoying the spacious seat for himself.

Jinnie is the last to enter the car and lets out a delighted sigh once she buckles her seat belt. She then looks around at the people in the back and asks, "Everyone is ready to go?"

In response to her question, Jeongin raises a thumbs-up while Han is weakly cheering with his fists in the air and you're laughing at him.

Jinnie then turns her head at Chan and says, "Let's go!"

And just like that, the road trip begins.

-

Everyone else thinks that Han's liking toward you is just a joke and he does that as a way to annoy Chan. Unfortunately, it's not.

He admits that at first, he didn't think of you that way. The very first time he received the information that Chan has a sister, he thinks of you not more than that, a younger sister of his friend.

That night Chan invited everyone to the bar to celebrate his birthday and you've recently turned 21 that year which is why your brother finally took you along with him to hang out with his friends for the first time and he believes that was when things take a different turn.

Han met you once, briefly at Chan's graduation and you've just entered college at that time. When he met you again that night, he almost couldn't recognize you because you've grown so much.

You were just a young girl when he met you for the first time and that night, he saw that girl had flourished into a grown woman and attracted him immediately.

He was so deeply mesmerized by you that he just stared at you the whole night that Jeongin had to constantly snap him out of his head.

The one moment that got him enamored is when you decided to take your jacket off that night and revealed the white camisole you wore that night, he could tell you were wearing nothing underneath because your nipples were poking through the silky fabric. He remembers watching you enjoy the night and dancing your heart out with Jinnie the whole night.

Han couldn't get you out of his head ever since, he grew some sort of infatuation with you, and he followed you on your social media.

When he feels bold enough, he slides into your DMs and asks how you're doing. Chan doesn't know and the fact that he's still oblivious about it means that you don't mention it to him and that's good, it spares him from his doom coming sooner than everyone else's.

Now that he gets to see you in person, sitting side by side when all he could do was just admire you through the pictures you posted. It feels a little surreal that he has to pinch himself a few times to convince him that you're real.

Since Chan is busy talking with Jinnie in the front, he takes it as an opportunity to talk with you because he's wasted three hours secretly staring at you.

"So, how are you doing?" He awkwardly asks while still getting used to sitting next to you.

"I'm doing great," you shortly answer, placing your hand on the space between you and him.

"I heard you're working at the magazine now?" He asks, making it sounds like he heard it from Chan but he actually knew it from your Instagram post.

"Yes, I am," you answer with a sheepish smile.

"I think that's great!" He praises and tries to keep his excitement in check.

"I'm just a copy editor for now. I don't think it's that great," you sheepishly say.

"No, I think that's great," Han feels the need to convince you so he seeks validation from a third party, "Right, Jeongin?"

Jeongin scratches his chin and stifles a nod, "Yeah. That's great!"

"Thank you," you mutter with a shy smile and tuck your hair behind your ear, "How about you? How are you doing?

"Good," he shortly answers but he knows you need more from his answer, "I've been working on a few tracks."

When it comes to you, Han doesn't feel like the coolest person but the objective remains the same, he wants to impress you.

"And I worked on that thing," he scratches his head while considering whether it's right to share it with you.

You tuck your hair behind your ear and look at him, "Worked on what?"

"I made this jingle for an ad," he hesitantly shares.

You shift your body toward him and ask further, "Do I know this ad or...?"

Seeing that you're genuinely curious about it, Han gains a little confidence to share more.

"It's for a shaving cream commercial and it goes like this..." Han starts humming the melody and serenading it to you.

"Didn't you do that thing last year though?" Jeongin interrupts his serenading with a truth bomb.

Han looks over his shoulder and glares at him, making Jeongin see his displeased expression that he's not a great wingman at the moment.

"Yeah, but..." he turns his body more to look at him but can't find something to defend himself.

"I did that," he continues as his confidence deflates in each passing second, "nonetheless."

"Everyone," Jinnie says from the front, "We're going to stop for gas."

Even Jinnie makes a better wingman than Jeongin and she's clueless about what happened in the back earlier.

"Oh, great timing! I need to go to the bathroom," you exclaim, gathering your hair to put it into a ponytail.

This is not a good start, he can tell that you're not impressed at all and far from attracted to him. He consoles himself with snacks, eating them right outside the convenience store.

"I blew that up," he sighs, then shoves chips into his mouth.

"That's because," Jeongin says, then pausing to take another sip of his soda, "you keep staring at her like a creep."

Han elbows his side quite hard that Jeongin yelps, "and you didn't help at all," he grumbles with his cheeks full of food.

"You're hopeless," Jeongin easily replies and steals some chips from Han.

"And you didn't think that's why I need the help?" Han grumbles again and shoves more chips into his mouth.

Jeongin coyly shrugs as he drains his can of soda empty then proceeds to crumple it and toss it into the trash bin.

"Hey, what are you guys having?" You appear from the corner along with Jinnie.

"Where's Chris?" Jinnie asks while fixing her hair.

"He's inside," Jeongin points to the convenience store.

Han quickly swallows everything in his mouth and brushes the crumbs on the front of his shirt, "Do you want some?" He offers you his bag of chips.

"Do you have something sweet with you?" You ask.

"I do, I do," he eagerly answers, rummaging through the bag of snacks he bought and pulling out a pack of strawberry jellies, "I think you'll like this."

"Oh, no, I'm allergic to strawberries," you inform.

Han quickly pulls out another pack of snacks from the plastic bag, "How about this?"

You take it from him and delightfully gasp, "Oh, I love these."

Chan comes out with Jinnie carrying packs of drinks for everyone and without warning, he tosses the car keys at Jeongin, fortunately, he has a good reflex and catches it right into his hand.

"Your turn to drive," Chan says to Jeongin.

Jeongin doesn't say anything else but walks up to the car with everyone following him from the back.

Han opens the car door for you when Chan grabs your hand and stops you on the track, "You ride shotgun."

"Yes, sir!" You also obey without complaint.

"And you," Chan points at Han, "Get on the backseat!"

Han frowns that Chan purposely separates the two of you and reluctantly goes to sit by himself in the back while Chan and Jinnie sit in the middle.

From the back of the car, Han can only watch you share the pack of chocolate maltesers with Jeongin in the front.

-

After four hours of driving, the car stops for dinner and everyone gets so quiet once the food arrives.

Chan makes sure everyone has finished so he can have all of their attention as he explains what the next plan is. Before you can ask for his dessert, he slides his plate towards you.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" He says.

Jeongin is mindlessly stirring his glass of soda with the straw but putting his attention on him meanwhile Han is slowly dissociating so Chan snaps his fingers right in front of his face to reel him back to reality.

Han swats his hand away and groans, "I'm listening, I'm listening."

"Okay, so, we're not going to continue to drive," Chan announces.

"Oh? We're sleeping somewhere for the night?" Jinnie asks, then dabs her mouth with a napkin, "And I need you guys to sleep early tonight because—"

"Because of what?" Han asks as he lazily brushes his hair to the back.

Chan sighs because Han cuts him off instead of letting him continue talking, "Because we have to leave early tomorrow morning."

"And where are we going?" You ask, sliding the plate back to him. Chan glares at you for leaving a small piece of dessert for him and you grin at him in return.

"Let me guess, surprise?" Han says with a mocking grin.

Chan scoops the last piece of cake into his mouth and ignoring Han's insinuation, he has a way to get back to him.

"Who voted for Han to pay the bill?" He says with his hand already raised in the air and Jeongin is the next one to raise his hand.

"W-what? Why? Why me?" Han blabbers in a slight panic.

Everyone turns their heads at Jinnie and since two of his friends already voted for him, she follows the majority and hesitantly raises her hand.

"Sorry," she meekly mutters at Han.

When it comes to you, you hurriedly shake your head and refuse to be a part of their shenanigans. Chan intensely glares at you, pressuring you to also raise your hand.

"Please, leave me out of this," you plead.

Having no other way to make you do what he tells you to do, Chan grabs your hand and raises it in the air. He then triumphantly grins at Han until his dimples sunken into his cheeks.

"Everyone says 'Thank you, Han'!" He orders.

"Thank you, Han!" Everyone says in unison while Han is slumped on his seat, suddenly not looking drowsy anymore.

With the information gained from the restaurant staff, Chan easily found the motel a ten-minute drive away. Arrive there, he immediately goes to check in while everyone is getting their belonging from the trunk.

Without saying anything, Jeongin hands you a bag and you look at it for a moment until you realize that it's yours.

"Oh, thank you," you mutter.

You also take Chan's bag, it's so heavy and you bet he's taking his laptop and camera with him which only reminds you to be careful with it. Once he gets back with the room keys, you hurriedly hand him his bag.

"This one is for the ladies," Chan hands one of the keys to Jinnie.

"Got it," Jinnie says, linking her arm with you to start walking to your room.

Everyone is heading the same way since the boys are staying in the next room. You can't wait to lie down after spending more than ten hours sitting in the car.

"It seems like we're sharing the bed," Jinnie says, seeing there's only one bed in the room.

"Don't worry, I don't snore like my brother," you immediately remark as you throw yourself onto the bed and sigh in delight.

Jinnie laughs as she unpacks her bag, "Wait... Chris snores?"

You roll to the side and prop a hand under your head, "I thought you knew," you say.

"I've seen Chris sleeping but he didn't snore," Jinnie shares, taking clean clothes out of her bag.

"Of course," you talk to yourself, Chan wouldn't let his crush know about his sleeping habit especially something as bad as snoring.

"What's that?" Jinnie asks, hearing you mutter to yourself.

"I just remember I need to charge my phone," you lie, rolling over to the other side to rummage through your bag.

"Do you mind if I use the bathroom first?" Jinnie politely asks, holding her clothes close to her chest.

"Sure," you answer with your hand still groping around to look for your phone charger. Getting hopeless, you call for Jinnie as she's about to enter the bathroom.

"Hey, Jinnie, can I borrow your charger?"

She stops on her track and then puts her clothes on top of the dresser, "Sure," she says, going back to her bag to get it and give it to you.

"I think I dropped my phone in the car," she mutters as she looks through her bag.

"Oh, no," you mumble but an idea comes to mind.

"I can call Chris to help you find it," you offer, turning her misfortune into an opportunity to set them up.

"No, it's okay. It's probably under the seat of the car," she says but she looks worried.

"Are you even sure that you dropped it in the car?" You ask, making her doubt herself.

Jinnie looks concerned now that she clasps her hands together in front of her, "I don't want—"

Before she gets to finish her sentence, you hit call on Chan's number and he picks up on the third ring.

"What's up, baby sist?" He slurs his words, he's just as tired as everyone.

Without greeting him first, you talk straight into the phone, "Jinnie dropped her phone in the car. Can you help her find it?"

You hear rustles from the other end of the call and his tone changes all of a sudden, "Just need to get my car keys and I'll be on your door in a minute."

There's no need to plead or beg, you only need to mention Jinnie's name and he's ready to do anything, he'd probably move mountains for her too if she asked for it.

You hold the urge to laugh and calmly look at Jinnie, "He'll be here soon," you tell her.

"Oh, thank you," Jinnie says, canceling her plan to wash up and putting her sweater back on.

A few minutes later, the knocking comes on the door and Jinnie goes to open it. You peek from the side to watch the interaction.

"Heard you dropped your phone in the car," Chan says to her.

"Yeah, I hope I didn't disturb you," Jinnie says.

"Not at all," he immediately says.

Jinnie looks at you and you pretend to be busy looking at your phone, "Hey, I'm going out for a bit."

"Yeah, sure, take your time," you say with a smile then realize that you're not using the right tone.

"Hope you find your phone," you quickly add.

Jinnie is trailing behind Chan as they walk back to the parking lot and he hurriedly unlocks the car at the first sight of it.

"I'm sure it's somewhere in the middle seat," Jinnie says, opening the car door and going straight to feel the gap between the seats.

"I'll look from the other side," Chan says.

He walks around the car and looks from the other side, he turns on the flashlight from his phone and shines it under the seat. All he finds are candy wrappers and he knows who the culprit is.

"Let's get these seats up," he suggests, turning the lever to fold the seats and making it easier to search for the phone.

As they're busy looking for the phone, their heads meet in the middle, and bumps against each other. Chan reflexively reaches for Jinnie's head and rubs on it.

"I'm sorry," he says while giggling, "Are you okay?"

Jinnie can't answer as she's busy laughing and after taking a breath, she nods, "I'm okay."

"You know, it'll be much easier to call you," he says, coming up with a faster way to find the phone a little too late.

"Why didn't I think of that earlier?" Jinnie says, feeling embarrassed as she holds her hair from curtaining her face.

Chan looks for her number and presses the call buttons, he waits for the dialing tone while Jinnie looks around in the dark.

"Oh, I heard it!" She gasps.

The muffled ringtone comes from the back and Chan flips the seat to the front, discovering Jinnie's phone caught between the seats. With his long arm, Chan outstretches his arm to get it and hurriedly hands it to her.

"Thank God!" She sighs in relief and takes the phone from him.

Chan closes the car door and quickly locks it again, he checks by pulling at the car handle to know if it's locked for good.

"I was so scared that I dropped it somewhere else," Jinnie shares, clutching her phone close to her chest.

"I'm glad you found it," Chan says, smiling because he feels good knowing that he makes Jinnie happy.

"Thank you for helping, Chris," Jinnie sincerely says with a smile that is as soft as the moonlight.

Chan would do anything to see that smile on Jinnie's face again, he then looks away before it gets too intense.

"Don't mention it," he coyly says.

As they walk back to the rooms, their hands lightly grazing each other's, and on a nice, summer night like this, Chan feels tempted to hold her hand.

He looks down and her hand is right there, a grasp away from him. All he needs to do—

Jinnie draws her hands and crosses them together in front of her, "I'm so curious where you'll take us tomorrow," she says.

Chan clears his throat and shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"Trust me, you guys will like it," he confidently says, "especially you."

Jinnie looks at him with a bewildered expression, "Me?"

"Yeah," he nods and grins.

"That only makes me more excited for tomorrow," she says, hugging herself tighter as a gust of wind blows their way.

Jinnie stops right in front of your shared room, she looks at Chan who's standing on the door to his room, "Thanks once again, Chris."

"It's not a big deal," he says with a smile.

Jinnie knocks on the door and a while later, you open the door with your head wrapped in a towel, "Did you find it?"

"Yeah," she answers, showing you the phone in her hand.

"That's a relief!" You exclaim, then step to the side to let her in.

Jinnie looks at Chan for one last time and smiles, "Goodnight, Chris."

"Goodnight," he says back, and once Jinnie gets inside, his foolish smile drops from his face knowing that you're watching him.

"Get back inside. Lock the door and sleep!" He strictly orders.

"Yes, sir," you reply along with a salute.

You grab the handle of the door and take one more chance to poke fun at him.

"Goodnight, Chris," You try your best to copy Jinnie's soft tone of saying it and quickly close the door before Chan gets the chance to scold you.

-

When Chan said they needed to leave early the next day, Han didn't think it would require him to wake up at 6 in the morning.

He doesn't know how Chan did that because he was the last one to sleep but he also woke up the earliest and even brought breakfast with him when he came to the room.

"Your turn to drive today," Chan says, throwing the car keys and clanging against the floor as Han fails to catch them.

"Ugh..." he lets out an exhausted groan and picks them up from the floor.

Concerned with his state, Chan grabs his shoulder and squeezes, "You sure you can drive?"

Han knows that if he says no, then Chan will take the task from him and he doesn't want that, Chan already did so much. He's sure he's more tired than everyone.

"Yeah, I can drive," he assures him with a not-so-convincing smile.

The doubts linger in Chan's eyes, he gives him a pat on the back and then says, "You know what? I'll get you another cup of coffee!"

The sun is peeking from the horizon and slowly climbs its way out, the sunray hits his eyes as Han arrives at the parking lot.

He unlocks the car from a meter away and puts his bag in the trunk first before walking to the driver's side.

"Ugh..." he groans again with one hand on the handle of the car door.

The last person who drove was Jeongin and thanks to his long limbs, Han has to readjust the seat because his arms aren't long enough for the steering wheel.

He's yawning as he takes his phone out and connects it to the car stereo, at least, being a driver means he has full control over the music.

"Morning," Jinnie cheerily says, with a smile that shines brighter than the morning sun.

Something about her smile that makes him can't help but smile back.

"Morning," he says back, "Do you need help with the bag?"

"It's okay. I'll do it myself," She says, heading to the back of the car.

Not long after, Chan comes carrying bags on each shoulder but looking unbothered by them, he ends up helping Jinnie with her bag. Jeongin comes next, handing his bag to Chan before getting into the car and sitting in the back.

Han is busy scrolling his phone to compile a playlist for the trip to realize that everyone is already getting in except for one person.

He looks to the back and sees Chan sitting in the middle with Jinnie so that means...

"I have your coffee with me," you say, climbing into the passenger's side.

He turns his head to the back to check if Chan approves of this seating arrangement but he's already snuggled up in his hoodie to sleep.

"Americano, right?" You ask, handing the cup of coffee to him.

"Oh?" Han looks at you and then at the coffee.

The second he realizes that you're waiting for him, he hurriedly gets it from you, "Thank you!"

Sensing that the coffee is hot, he carefully puts it into the cup holder and turns on the car engine. He waits until you're buckled in to start driving.

"So, where are we going?" He asks in utter confusion.

You let out a chuckle thinking that he's joking and Han chuckles as well, maybe it is a joke that he didn't ask Chan where to go before he started driving.

"Chris said you only need to follow the GPS," you inform.

"Oh, yeah, that's right," he feels embarrassed to ask and even more embarrassed to say that he is not good at multitasking.

It feels as if you read his mind, you look at him and say, "Don't worry. I'm a good navigator."

The cool morning air is so refreshing that Han doesn't feel sleepy anymore and with every sip of coffee, he feels more awake than ever.

He looks through the rearview mirror and sees that everyone in the back is sleeping so that means only you and him are awake in the car.

"Oh, wow, look at that," You sigh at the view of the sun rising on a hill, "It's beautiful!"

Han briefly glances away from the road to see it but the view he sees is of you and your hair flying around your face basking in the soft glow of the morning sun.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," he mutters and looks back at the road.

He's only an hour away from the destination but he likes this scene, the view and the road ahead of him, the person sitting next to him, also the faint music that plays through the car stereo. He wants to stay in it for a little longer.

"I love this song!" You exclaim out of the blue as the playlist plays a new song.

Han recognizes the song right away because it's coming from his playlist and it's one of his favorites.

"You know this song?"

"The Beatles, right?"

"Yes."

"It's in one of the playlists you sent me," you tell him.

The playlist is Han's love language. When he likes someone, instead of flowers or chocolate, he compiles a playlist of songs that reminds him of that person and gifts it to them.

When he sent them to you, Han isn't that confident that you will heartily listen to them because it's just a playlist of songs and you'd barely see the romantic gesture behind it.

"I'd like to be under the sea..." you start singing along to the song.

"In an octopus's garden in the shade..." Han joins in on the second line while keeping his eyes on the road.

"He'd let us in, knows where we've been. In his octopus's garden in the shade..." Together you sing the rest of the verse while smiling as the sun is getting higher in the sky.

"In an octopus's garden with you... In an octopus's garden with you..."

The GPS says the destination is only ten minutes away and it's directing him to turn onto the small road with nothing but trees that line up on each side.

"Are we going the right way?" Han asks you in a slight panic, not seeing any road signs.

You check the GPS and turn to look at him, "You're going the right way, yeah," you confirm.

Han bends down to see if there's any sign of life or if Chan accidentally puts the wrong address into the GPS.

"I'll wake my brother," you offer, turning around in your seat and outstretching your arm to reach Chan who's still sleeping.

You manage to grab the sleeve of his hoodie and yank at it, "Chris, wake up!"

Instead of Chan, Jinnie is the one who answers your call, "Mmh, are we there yet?" She asks.

"We're not sure," you answer and yank harder at Chan's hoodie.

Jinnie notices you need the help, she places her hand on Chan's arm and gently shakes him awake, "Chris?"

On the second try, Chan finally wakes up to Jinnie's call and you roll your eyes because it's getting ridiculous now that he recognizes her voice well instead of his sister.

Han decides to pull over to the side of the road and turns his head around, "are we going to the right place?"

Chan pulls down his hoodie and quickly brushes his curls to the back, he closes his eyes for a moment to adjust them to the light.

One glance at the GPS and he slumps back on his seat, "Yes, it's right," he slurs his words.

"Why am I not seeing anything else but trees?" Han hesitates but keeps driving anyway.

"Just keep going," Chan mumbles, getting a bottle of water and drinking it.

A moment later, Han's doubt is answered as a sign appears in front of him and it says that the campsite is 100 meters away.

"Oh, my God!" Jinnie loudly gasps, making everyone in the car startle in surprise, including Jeongin who's just woken up from his nap.

She looks at Chan with eyes widening and sparkling, "We're going camping?"

With a stupid grin on his face, Chan answers, "Yes."

-

While the boys are busy setting up the big tent, you and Jinnie are making sandwiches for lunch. Jinnie does most of the work while all you do is unwrapping the cheese singles and preparing the loaf of bread.

This is one of those moments that makes you think how can someone be this perfect? Jinnie is beautiful, smart, kind, and patient, she's great at drawing and now, you find out she's good at cooking too.

"What can't you do? Really?" You praise in awe as she meticulously arranges the ingredients from the vegetables to the condiments.

She lets out a shy chuckle in reaction and doesn't let it get to her head, she's concentrating hard on putting everything together without making a mess.

"You're an only child, right?" You curiously ask.

Jinnie wraps each sandwich with a food wrapper and does it so meticulously as if she's wrapping a gift, "Yes, I am."

"Would you like a younger sister?" You jokingly say.

She smiles at you and hands you the first sandwich she wrapped, "I already think of you as a younger sister," she says.

You grin at that and put the wrapped sandwich into the basket, "We should make it official then," you teasingly say.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"You know... you can be my sister-in-law," you coyly say while paying attention to her reaction.

Jinnie shakes her head in disbelief and shyly laughs, "You silly!"

It's too obvious for her to miss it, right? She should have known that you're hinting at something and it's your way to cajole her to open up but in the end, you're always the one left puzzled by the mystery of why Jinnie and Chan's ship is not sailing yet.

The peaceful nature sounds are interrupted by the sound of Chan hammering the spike to pin down the tent while Jeongin is setting the canopy. He pauses once he notices that you're struggling to carry the cooler box by yourself. He rushes to get it from you and puts it down next to the tent.

As a form of gratitude, you grab a can of soda from the cooler and hand it to him, "Here!"

Jeongin softly smiles and it's enough to make his dimples appear on both of his cheeks, "Thanks!"

"Baby sist, I want one too!" Chan grumbles as he sits on the ground, also exhausted from setting the tent.

It's fine when he called you that ten years ago but as you grow older, he should know that you've outgrown that pet name. You let it slide because his friends got used to hearing him calling you that around them.

"Catch!" You warn before tossing it his way and he catches it right in his hand.

Jinnie comes not long after, carrying the sandwiches along with some snacks on the side, "Lunch is ready!" She announces, putting everything on the table.

Han hurriedly carries more folded chairs and arranges them around the table. Everyone stops working to huddle around the table for lunch.

"Is it done?" Jinnie asks while distributing the sandwiches around.

"Yeah, we just need to put the mat and sleeping bags inside but we can do it later," Chan answers, ripping through the wrapper and taking a hearty bite.

Despite it being the beginning of summer, there are only two other campers on the site. But that's a good thing, it's not crowded and it won't spoil the serene, relaxing experience of camping.

The lunch feels so rewarding, especially to those who worked on the tent and everyone gets so quiet after. You and Jinnie work together to gather the trash and put it into a plastic bag.

"So... what now?" Jeongin asks, glancing his eyes from side to side.

Chan crumples the empty can in his hand and puts it into the trash bag, "We're resting for now and we'll go hiking in an hour."

"Hiking?" Han asks in panic, not in favor of the idea.

"I told you to bring hiking boots for one specific reason," Chan explains, putting his hat backward and then reclining on his seat.

Han slumps on his seat and makes those high-pitched groans while flailing his arms in the air.

To avoid the harsh sunlight, the hike starts a little after three and the boys are tasked to carry a backpack full of snacks, water, and clean clothes.

The forest hums with life as the five of you walk the trail with the sun breaks through the cracks, lighting up the dirt path ahead, decorated with outgrown roots, wildflowers, and fallen leaves that crunch beneath your feet.

You're gazing up at the canopy, searching for the birds that sing sweetly against the soft sound of the wind whistling between the leaves.

Chan leads the way and once in a while, he looks back to check if anyone needs a break. Seeing that everyone needs a break, he stops on his track and turns around.

"Let's have a quick break!" He announces to everyone, then uncaps a bottle of water to hand it to you.

"Thank you," you mutter.

You lean back against the tree and reorganize your breath to finally have a long sip of water that quench your thirst.

"Is it still far?" Jinnie asks, taking a new bottle of water from Han's backpack.

Chan swallows his water and wipes his lips after, "About half an hour more of hiking."

Han takes off the plaid shirt he's wearing and hangs it on one shoulder, "And how long have we been hiking?"

Chan looks at his smartwatch to be able to answer him, "About 25 minutes."

"Fuck!" Han curses, scaring away the small animals hiding between the bushes, "Why does it feel like we've been walking for hours?"

"That's just you," Jeongin sneers, drinking his water like he's shooting an advertisement video.

"It's going to be worth it, I swear," Chan convinces, brushing his hair to the back before putting his hat back on.

Hanging on to his words, everyone continues the hike, following Chan's lead while enjoying the greenery. Jeongin catches squirrels running in between tree trunks.

"Han, say hi to your friends!" He says to Han.

Funny that Han decides to play along with it, "Furry babies, hi!"

Chan notices that you're getting exhausted as beads of sweat roll down your neck, "Here! Hold the back of my t-shirt!"

You don't see why it would help you walk, "Why should I?" You ask in utter confusion.

He grabs your hands and makes you hold each side of his t-shirt, dragging you along with him as he tirelessly keeps following the trail.

"I swear to God if it isn't worth it like you said..." you grumble as you feel every muscle in your legs strained and screaming in pain, and your mouth is dry from you constantly panting, running out of breath.

The scenery slightly changes the further you walk, there are no more dead leaves on the path and the rich earthy smell is soon replaced by water-saturated air.

"Oi, look!" Chan taps your hand and then points at the view ahead of him.

Getting a glimpse of what lies ahead, you walk past Chan to discover a view that is too beautiful for your eyes to comprehend.

A white, frothy cascade of water falls into a plunge pool with mist billowing out in soft clouds, creating a mystical atmosphere but when the sun hits and refracts the lights, a rainbow appears.

It's a waterfall, a majestic one.

"Be careful! It's slippery!" Chan shouts, watching you walk down the rocky outcroppings. He knows that there's no stopping you and you can't hear him anyway.

Han dashes after you with the backpack bouncing on his back, trailing after you like a puppy.

"I was right to trust you," Jinnie stands by his side and places a hand on Chan's shoulder, "It's worth the one hour of hike."

Jinnie shoots him a warm smile that makes Chan's inside melt and turns into jelly and in response to that, Chan unknowingly grins at her, the kind that shows how much of a fool he is for her.

Unbeknownst to him, Jeongin has been quietly watching this interaction, including the shit-eating grin Chan has on his face.

"You're pathetic," Jeongin says to him once Jinnie leaves.

"Hey!" He yells in disagreement but Jeongin ignores him and walks away.

Taking a little rest from the hiking, Chan sits on the sun-baked rocks while admiring the waterfall and the serene surroundings.

"This is a beautiful place to tell someone your feelings," Jeongin says, taking out a can of soda from his backpack.

Chan scoffs and plays dumb, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on!" Jeongin groans and subtly rolls his eyes at him.

"We all know you have feelings for someone," he pauses to gesture at the figure standing on the rocky perch, "There she is!"

This proves two things, their years of friendship and that Jeongin always observes, either way, he feels so caught by his own ineptness.

Worse, Chan decides to keep playing dumb and looks away even though it's too late for him to do that, there's no way he can escape Jeongin's observant eyes.

"Why-why should I..." he scratches his head in a slight panic.

"Just tell her how you feel," Jeongin says, "I think she feels the same thing for you."

At first, Chan wants to keep it to himself but since Jeongin knows already and it's tiring to have to keep hiding, he decides to tell him.

"It's hard," he openly admits with a heavy sigh, "We've been close friends for too long that I can't tell the difference anymore."

It feels so good that Chan is finally able to get that out of this chest and he knows he can trust Jeongin to keep it between them.

"And she's just... she's just perfect," Chan says with a hopeless sigh, he picks up a pebble and throws it into the water, "and I don't want to lose my good friend."

Jeongin leans back by propping his hands behind him and lets out a sigh, "It doesn't matter if the guy is perfect or the girl is perfect, as long as they're perfect for each other," he eloquently remarks.

"Wait, I think I heard that somewhere before," Chan's forehead wrinkles as he rakes his brain to recall where he heard this line before.

All of a sudden, Jeongin punches him in the arm, "It's from your favorite movie. Good Will Hunting!"

"Oh?!" Chan loudly gasps, it feels like a crime that he doesn't recognize the quote taken from his favorite movie.

"At this point, Han will beat you up to it."

"What?"

"He'll date your sister faster than you get to date Jinnie," Jeongin says with sheer indignation.

Chan's eyes dart at you and Han talking under the shade of a tree that stoops so low it's almost touching the surface of the water.

"Ugh, no, that can't happen!" He says in disgust.

"I bet he's serenading your sister with the jingle he made, again," Jeongin mumbles.

At the same time, Jeongin and Chan look at each other and start singing the jingle together, surprising themselves by how well they memorized it.

"Are you guys talking about me?" Jinnie jokingly asks as she walks by.

They immediately shut up and Chan turns his head away even though his eyes are searching for her, demanding her to always be in his sight.

"Are we waiting for Christmas to swim or what?" Han shouts, fussing like a child with his hands planted on each side of his waist.

-

Han once thought that if someone ever gets to see your body, he believes they'd turn to stone and that's because he thinks no one can handle that much magnetism and sex appeal.

Today, he gets to put that notion to a test even though he's risking himself to the possibility of getting petrified. He tries to keep his cool as you stand not far from him, tugging the hem of your t-shirt and then pulling it over your head, revealing the top half of the swimsuit you're wearing underneath.

So far, he still finds himself breathing and able to move his limbs but let's see when— he holds his breath as you unbutton your denim shorts and pull it down, slightly bending down to get it off your legs.

His eyes immediately travel down your body, admiring every curve of your body as you bask in the warm sunlight and the tiny droplets of water land on your skin.

You flip your hair to the back and slip your fingers under the strap to adjust it on your shoulder, his breath hitches as you pull it and let it slap against your skin.

Now, he's petrified. He knows he shouldn't be ogling at his best friend's sister, especially with her brother around but he can't help it, he's instinctively attracted to you like a moth drawn to light.

Jinnie offers her hand at you as she's already in her swimsuit as well, "Come on!" She says.

You take her hand and giggle as you slowly make your way toward the water with pebbles against the bottom of your bare feet.

"Ack!" You shriek, feeling a shock of cold water touching your feet then back to giggling again.

Han realizes that if he doesn't want to miss anything, he should get changed now. He gets up from the bed of rock he's sitting on and finds Chan is already hallway to get naked, exposing his muscular upper body, his pale skin shines under the sun.

"Show off," he mutters, placing a gentle slap on his abs as he walks past him.

"What's that for?" Chan says with a perplexed look.

The breeze plays with Han's hair as he treads the water and more droplets of water hit his skin the closer he gets to where you are

For a second, he loses sight of you until you emerge from the surface of the water, glistening wet with your swimsuit stuck to your skin, enhancing the features of your heavenly body.

You're saying something to Jinnie as you're floating in the water but the words are lost in the roar of the waterfall. With a grin plastered on your face, he doesn't need to hear it to know you're having fun.

"Hey, come here," you shout in his direction.

Han looks around thinking you're talking to someone else but there's no one else but him there. He looks back at you and you're already making your way to him.

"I want to show you something cool," you say, taking his hand and dragging him with you.

Honestly, he's willing to go anywhere you take him even if you take him to the pit of hell and sweat he'll follow you there.

"Now, we have to dive in," you say, getting to the center of the pool where it's deep enough for a dive.

Han draws a big, deep breath before following you where you lead him, he sees through the blurry water where your figure is diving to and then comes out of the water.

You wipe the water off your face and put your hair away, "It's cool, isn't it?"

Han doesn't realize it at first but once he rubs the water off his eyes, he's standing on the other side of the waterfall, and behind him is a tall, slippery wall of rock.

It's just you and him, concealed behind an iridescent wall of water.

"Yeah," he nods as he looks at you to which you respond with a smile.

Out of nowhere, two figures emerge out of the water and startle you both. It's Jeongin and Jinnie, discovering the spot and finding you both there.

"Wow! This is amazing!" Jinnie gasps as she looks around while wiping the water off her mouth.

Jeongin doesn't say anything but stands close to the back, his skin a contrast with the dark of the rocky wall behind him.

The smile on Han's face slowly fades knowing that someone has shattered the tender moment he's having with you. He looks at you and your eyes are nowhere near his eyes, the next thing he knows, you dive your way out back to the world.

The fun continues as you and Chan team up to fight against Jinnie and Han. He's carrying you on his shoulders and clashing you at Jinnie who also rides on Han's shoulders, coming at each other until one of you falls into the water. Thanks to Chan's strong lower half body, you won most of the time.

Tired from swimming, everyone is chilling on the big bed of rock, drinking and eating the snacks they packed while drying up under the warm afternoon sun.

With your fingers pruning up, you're struggling to open a bag of chips and someone takes it to help you to open it.

"Here," Jeongin says, after swiftly opening it for you.

"Thanks," you mutter.

Jinnie let out a sigh as she hugs her knees, "I think this is the most fun I ever had in a long time."

Han gets up from lying down and puts his arm around her shoulder, "That's true."

Chan triumphantly grins as he uncaps a new bottle of water, "I told you guys to trust me."

"I trusted you," Jeongin mutters in defense.

Chan points at Han as he drinks his water, hinting that he's talking about a specific person. Grinning as he sees Han feeling called out by that.

"I didn't say anything," he defends himself, waving his hand in front of him in strong disagreement with Chan's accusation.

"Yeah but you were like whining the whole hike," Chan says, giving him a head shake of disbelief.

"I didn't," he resists to admit it, then looks at Jinnie to seek someone on his back, "I didn't, right?"

Jinnie looks at him and then looks at everyone, "Well, I wouldn't call it whining," she says.

Han glares at her as he senses a but trailing behind Jinnie's sentence. He puts his arm away from her and grumbles, "You know what? I'll not say anything on the hike way back."

On the hike way back, Han doesn't whine like he promised but he makes grunting noises. Chan knows he wants to complain but he wants to stick true to his own words.

He guides the hike back with you by his side and he's been catching you looking back a few times. He scoffs, knowing his sister so well to know that you're not just looking, you have eyes on someone.

"Who is it, baby sist?" He curiously asks.

You snap your head back and look ahead, "Huh? What?" You play coy.

With his hand on your shoulder, he stops you on your track and looks into your eyes, "I'm your brother. I know when my sister likes someone," he states.

You sigh because that's true, you can't hide the things from someone you've grown up your whole life with.

"Yeah, okay, you got me," you say in defeat.

"I didn't think much about it then but now, he's always in my head," you share, surprised that you don't find it awkward to tell personal things like this with him. Deep down you know it's not awkwardness you feel, you fear that Chan wouldn't be accepting of your choice.

"So, what do you think?"

Chan softly laughs and offers his hand at you as support to climb the outgrown tree roots, he waits until you safely land on the other side to answer.

"Well, I don't really have a say on that, do I?" he says.

"As far as I remember, you're really against it," you say, reminding him of the same ultimatum he says to his friends plenty of times.

"Yeah, but you know, as long as you're happy," he answers, along with a coy shrug.

Out of the blue, he playfully nudges your shoulder with his, "Ooo, baby sist is falling in love," he teasingly says.

You shove him hard until he's staggering to the side, "Stop calling me that!" You slap his big arm with each word.

Chan is as protective as a brother can be but he knows that he can't dictate every aspect of your life, including the person you like. However, as your brother, his opinions matter and it feels good to know that you have his approval.

-

The sun is setting when everyone returns to the campsite, painting the sky with bursts of red and yellow, gradually sending the day into the calm of night.

Before it gets dark, Chan orders everyone to work for dinner, he and Jeongin immediately build a campfire and the rest are setting the gas stove to cook.

"Can I help you with something?" Han offers his help to you and Jinnie who's busy prepping ingredients for dinner.

Jinnie hands him a pot, "Can you fill it with water?"

"How much water?"

"Just fill it full," she answers.

"Got it!" He takes the pot with him and comes back a few minutes later, carrying the pot of water with a lot of focus and cautiousness.

"Where do I put it?" He asks in a panic.

Jinnie gets out of the way to make space for him, "Here! On the stove!" She says.

He is concentrating hard on putting it right on the stove without spilling a drop, "How do you turn it on?"

You look away from the vegetables you're chopping and notice something on Han's leg, it seems like he scraped his knee without him knowing.

"Goodness, Han!" You gasp.

"Wh-what?" He asks in panic, looking at you in worry when he should be worried about himself.

"Your knee is bleeding," you point at the blood gushing out of his scraped knee. You scramble to find something for his wound.

Jinnie gets ahead of you, she comes with a bottle of water to wash the blood and tells him to sit down as she runs to the tent to get a first aid kit.

"Does it hurt?" You ask, finally find a napkin for it.

Han is surprisingly calm about it as he gently places the napkin over his wound, "I think I hurt my knee when I was getting water."

Chan pauses on grilling the meat to know what the ruckus is about, "What's going on?"

"Hannie scraped his knee," you shortly answer.

Jinne comes through with her bag of first-aid kit and pulls out a tube of ointment, she takes a dollop with a cotton bud and with so much gentleness, she dabs Han's wound with it.

Han hisses and winces in pain, reacting to the treatment and Jinnie quickly blows on it to soothe the pain.

"I just need to put a band-aid on it," she says and proceeds to take one from the pack. She puts a lot of care into covering his wound with it then sighs in relief.

"Thank you, Jinnie," Han sincerely says while holding the side of his knee.

Jinnie looks up as she's kneeling in front of him and warmly smiles, "You're very welcome, Han."

Despite the minor incident, dinner was a success as everyone finished the food in under an hour, and there was no better way to end a tiring yet fulfilling day than with cans of cold beer.

The night brings such a silence that the crackle of the campfire is all that could be heard with the sparks flickering and drifting upward. The smell of smoke mixed with the sweet smell of roasted marshmallows.

Being the good brother he is, Chan hands you the smores he made and takes the stick of marshmallow you're still roasting.

"Thanks," you mutter, wasting no time to bite into that gooey, crunchy sweetness.

Han wants to do the same for you, he makes smores out of the marshmallow he roasted a little too long and nudges Jeongin by the elbow.

"Pass it to her," he whispers, asking for his help to deliver it to you.

Jeongin doesn't say anything but takes it from him and without hesitation, he bites right into it.

"Hey, I made it for her!" He scolds him, putting his hands around Jeongin's neck to choke and force him to spit the smores he ate. That doesn't faze him, Jeongin has another bite to finish it and has no problem swallowing it down.

Thinking that Han is mad because Jeongin ate his smores, Jinnie gives the one she made to him as a consolation, "Here. You can have mine."

Han looks at it and feels bad to take it, "I– It's okay, I'm full anyway," he lies with a grin.

The night is a special kind of blackness, the kind that wants only to hold the stars and help them shine all the brighter. You tilt your head up and see those stars like pinpricks against the dark of night.

"Woah, look at those stars..." You sigh in wonder.

Everyone else follows suit, looking up at the night sky and feeling the same feeling of awe. When we realize how vast the universe is, our matters suddenly feel so small, don't you think?

"I have something to share with you guys," Jeongin suddenly announces.

Everyone stops staring at the night sky and looking at Jeongin, some are merely curious and the rest are anticipating what he tries to share.

"Remember when I told you guys I auditioned to join the Royal Orchestra?"

"Yeah, a couple of times," Chan says, bobbing his head at him.

"Last month I got the letter," he shares further.

"Oh!" Jinnie gasps in excitement even though Jeongin is not finished with the announcement yet.

Jeongin looks down at the blazing fire that gnaws on the logs of wood, making everyone wait for him to continue. After a while, he looks up and finally announces, "Well, I got in."

"Oh, my Gosh..." Chan sighs in relief with one hand clutching his chest.

"Yeah, man!" Han gives him a celebratory punch in the arm then puts his arm around him, "I just knew you'd get in."

"Duh!" Jinnie eggs in, "You're a great pianist, they're stupid if they didn't let you in."

"Congratulations, Jeongin! We're so proud of you," Chan says, giving him a pat on the back and a proud smile that exudes his paternal side towards Jeongin.

Jeongin looks at you and his eyes drop to his hands, "Which also means that I'll leave soon," he continues with shocking news.

The smiles on everyone's faces slowly fade at that announcement, it turns quiet again as everyone processes that there's a downside to this happy news. Jinnie looks devastated and she rests her head on Chan's shoulder to seek comfort.

"When do you have to leave?" Han asks.

"Next month," Jeongin replies.

"So... this will be the last time we're going to be together?" Jinnie sadly asks even though she's on the verge of tears already.

"Guys, I'm not dying," Jeongin says with an attitude.

Everyone lightly chuckles at that, Chan rearranges the logs to keep the bonfire alive and looks at Jeongin.

"How long will you be there?"

"It's a two-year contract," he answers.

Jinnie sniffles and puts on a small smile, "Just promise us that you'll always come to our weekly video meeting," she demands.

Jeongin chuckles and nods, crossing his fingers together as he says, "Promise!"

"Two years isn't that long," Han coyly says, poking the burned log with a tree branch.

"By the time I get back, I expect one of you to already be married to someone," Jeongin jokingly says, secretly throwing a glance at Chan and raising his eyebrow at him.

"I'm getting drowsy," you say, stretching your arms up and tilting your head side to side, "I'm going to head in and sleep."

Jinnie lifts her head off of Chan's shoulder and crosses her arms together in front of her, "Yeah, I'm going to sleep as well," she says.

It's getting late and the night only grows colder, Chan decides that it's time to sleep. He volunteers to put out the bonfire while Jeongin heads straight into the tent.

After taking a quick trip to the bathroom, Han enters the tent and sees that the sleeping bags have been arranged. Jinnie takes the farthest right and you're sleeping next to her, bundled in the warmth of your sleeping bag.

The middle one belongs to Chan and since Jeongin takes the farthest left which means he's going to be sleeping between them. He slips himself into his sleeping bag and turns his head only to find that you're still awake.

"I thought you're sleeping already," he lowly mutters.

You don't say anything but smile at him with your eyes soft and tender, blanketing his heart with warm feelings.

When it occurs to him that he's sleeping in this shared space with you, he gets that fluttering feeling inside, a kaleidoscope of butterflies flying around in his stomach.

"Goodnight, Han," you lowly murmur.

"Goodnight," he murmurs back, not taking his eyes off of you until you turn your head to the other side.

Han continues to admire your profile from the side, your eyes, your nose, and the plump of your lips that he's dying to taste. You're so beautiful and he gets to enjoy that beauty as much as he pleases.

"I'm surprised I didn't find you snoring already," Chan says as he enters the tent and zips it close.

Then there's the brother who always ruins this special moment. Han turns his head away and scoots slightly to the side to make more space for Chan, knowing how big he is.

"Let's see who gets to snore first," Han dares him.

The next thing he knows, Han finds himself in the forest again and he can hear you laughing. He looks up and finds you standing next to him with your hair wet and your feet bare.

"Take you somewhere..." you vaguely say.

Han doesn't answer but takes your hand, together you're walking through the forest. He feels the rough stone handholds against the palms and fingertips and tall lush grass sliding across calves.

Then he looks at you and you're smiling at him, your eyes bright and droplets of water are dripping down the end of your hair.

"It's cool," you say, laughing at him.

He thinks you find something funny about him so he starts to grope his body around and checks what is it that makes you laugh.

"Come here," you say, giggling with your hand still holding his.

"What?" He asks.

"It's cool," you say again, then you take the straps of your swimsuit and pull them down your shoulders. You're giggling while keep pulling the straps down, revealing your bare chest to him little by little until—

"Han, wake up!"

The image blurs as someone shakes his body awake. He ignores it and tries to go back to sleep, hoping that he gets to continue the dream.

"Wake up!"

"Ugh... mmh," he incoherently complains and curls up in his sleeping bag.

"Just let him sleep," you say to someone.

Han's eyes snap open the second he hears your voice, he then scrambles out of his sleeping bag, disoriented with his hair tousled.

"Are you coming?"

Without looking, Han can tell that it's Chan's voice.

"I'm coming, yes, coming," he mumbles with half-shut eyes.

He shivers as cold air blows into the tent, he gropes around for his jacket with eyes barely open, "What time is it?"

"It's four," Chan answers.

"In the afternoon?" He gasps in shock, can't believe that he slept through the day.

"In the morning," Chan corrects him.

It's even more shocking that he wakes up at four in the morning when the sun is not even out yet. He opens his mouth to complain but he sees you coming into the tent.

"Chris, can I borrow one of your hoodies?" You ask.

Han grabs what he assumes is his hoodie and hurriedly gives it to you, "You can wear mine," he offers with a sleepy smile.

Chan takes it from his hand and then gives it to you, "Hurry up! It's sunrise in any minute now," he rushes him.

Han is barely functioning but he tries to keep up with the group, walking through the path in the dark of the night that still lingers and the stars that insist on shining bright against the bruised sky.

He rushes to walk next to you while hugging himself to shield himself from the cold, "Where are we going?"

"Just to the top of that hill," you answer, looking beautiful even with your face bare and your eyes puffy from the lack of sleep.

It gets tricky as the path turns into climbing the rocky outcroppings and it's a bit embarrassing that you're the one helping him not the other way around.

"There she is," Chan says, pointing to the golden disk that rises on the horizon with its honeyed glow.

It is the time when the day casts away the cloak of night and makes an entrance with a bright, gold light of warmth, making it known that she rules the day once and forever more.

Jinnie walks up to Chan's side and stands so close to him, arms brushing and elbows grazing.

"It's like you have to whisper," Jinnie murmurs, thinking that she would disrupt the serene view by talking loudly.

When Chan looks at her, he realizes one thing. Jinnie is like the sunrise, she doesn’t care if anyone watches it or not, she will keep on being beautiful, even if no one bothers to look at it.

"You know what, Chris?" She suddenly asks.

"Yes?"

"This is one of those moments that I'll share with my future husband and children," she says, her eyes set on the sun that keeps on rising, gently and swiftly at once.

Hearing her talking about the future makes Chan wants to make it all true for her and have the chance to tell her future children, 'Yes, Dad was there too'. Just the thought of it already makes him so giddy that he finds himself smiling.

Jinnie slowly rests her head on his shoulder to enjoy the sunrise together and Chan gets what she said earlier, he also feels like saying things out loud would only ruin the moment so he decides to keep it in his heart a little longer.

"Ugh! He's stressing me out," You mutter to yourself, seeing Jinnie and Chan sharing an intimate moment and instead of using this as an opportunity to say something, Chan does nothing but stare at her like usual.

"That's my hoodie," Someone says.

You turn to the side and find Jeongin there, "Sorry?"

"You're wearing my hoodie," he says, pointing to the hoodie you're wearing which you thought belonged to Han.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," you meekly say, torn between keeping it on or not, but you know you need it, it's so cold to take it off.

"That's okay," Jeongin says, leaning on the rock next to you.

It's hard to interact with Jeongin because he rarely talks, he only talks when he has important things to say or has savage takes on things. You hesitate to talk to him without feeling like you'll waste his time. Still... you muster up the courage only to get interrupted by Han's head lolling onto your shoulder.

You check on him and see that he's falling back to sleep. You quickly put your arm around him to keep the back of his head from hitting the rock.

"We should have let him sleep," Jeongin says.

"Yeah," you respond with a soft laugh.

Now that he's speaking to you, you use this as an opportunity to congratulate him, "I didn't get the chance last night but congratulations for joining the Royal orchestra," you tell him.

Jeongin brushes his hair to the back and then clears his throat, "Thank you."

"I went to one of your shows two months back," you share and instantly regret doing it, what are you expecting though? For him to thank you.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jeongin asks, he seems to find it important to know the reason.

"Well, I just... I don't know, I don't want to disturb you and I was with a friend anyway so..." you vaguely explain.

There's no other reason why you came to his show except to watch him playing his piano, you thought of seeing him after the show but you were afraid that he'd be too busy for that.

"We could have hung out. I'd treat you to dinner," he says while scratching his ear.

"That sounds nice," you comment with a smile.

"I'm not a cheapskate like Han," he jokingly adds with a soft laugh.

"Well, I was think— Oh!" You abruptly stop talking as Han nuzzles his head further into your neck and puts his arm across your chest.

Jeongin gets on his feet and makes you switch places with him. He takes Han's arm from around your shoulder, offering himself for him to lean on instead of you.

"Is Han sleeping?" Chan asks, noticing his friend is draping on Jeongin's shoulder.

"I told you to let him sleep," you grumble at him.

The walk back isn't as bad as the climb, Han is being dragged by Chan to make sure of his safe return to the campsite. Jeongin is tasked to brew coffee for everyone while Jinnie and Chan are making breakfast together. You volunteer to tidy up the tent and fold the sleeping bags.

Once you're done, you join everyone around the campfire and Jeongin immediately hands you a cup of coffee.

"Thank you," you mutter, holding it with both hands to absorb the heat.

Chan mischievously slaps Han's shoulder, startling him awake from his sleep and making him jolt on the chair.

"Time for breakfast!" He informs him.

He looks at him with wondering eyes, stretches his arms out, and then lets out a big yawn. Even with a barely functioning brain, Han knows that it's time to eat, he takes a plate and a piece of toast.

"Here. Have an egg," Jinnie says, sliding an egg onto his plate from the frypan.

She then turns at you and says, "You too."

You hurriedly grab a plate and mutter your gratitude at her, wasting no time to start digging in. Soon, everyone is stuffing their mouth with food and it gets quiet that you can hear the forest come alive around you.

"We're going to drive the whole day today," Chan informs out of nowhere.

"Can we know where we're going now?" Jinnie asks, taking a bite of her bread.

Chan pulls out something out of his jeans pocket, a piece of paper but he continues to unfold it open. With an excited grin, he turns it around and reveals a poster.

"How long have you been keeping that poster in the back of your jeans?" Jeongin curiously asks, then takes a small sip of his coffee.

Not getting the reaction he expected, Chan frowns and his shoulders slumped. Han snatches the poster from his hands and looks at it with utter bewilderment.

"What? Did you get tickets to this? How?" He asks with his cheeks full of food.

You don't recognize it at first until you see the logo of the band and gasp in surprise, "Am I seeing The Hare concert poster?"

The grin blooms on Chan's face once more, "More like the poster for their secret gig this Friday night," he humbly brags.

"What?" You ask again with eyes widening.

Han roughly yanks the sleeve of Chan's sweater, "How did you get the tickets?"

"Let's say I knew someone who knows someone," Chan cryptically says, deciding not to tell everyone how he acquired those tickets.

"Anyway, I think it's better if the girls take turns to drive first," he continues with the planning.

"Yep. It's best if you boys get some rest before driving all night," Jinnie agrees, already collecting the trash from around the table.

You're representing everyone when you say that Jinnie and Chan make a great team, they're the ones who came up with the planning and handled the financial stuff, and they make sure everyone is doing well and having fun. They're basically playing parents to you, Han, and Jeongin which adds one more reason why they should date as soon as possible.

-

Jinnie offers to take the first turn to drive and Chan is the last one to get into the car as he has to return the rented tent and pay for it.

"Everyone please make sure you've checked your belongings," Chan says as he puts his safety belt on.

Jinnie turns on the car engine and checks everything, her safety belt, and the angle of the rearview mirror, and then adjusts the seat.

"Do you mind if I play music from my phone?" You ask.

"Not at all," Jinnie replies, tucking her hair behind her ear as she backs the car from the parking lot and starts driving.

Not long after the car driving through the main road, Han startles in the backseat and then asks, "How long have we been driving?"

Chan glances at his smartwatch and turns his head to the back, "About 35 minutes. Why?"

"I want to pee," Han says, his face doesn't show any expression but it makes his face appear so round.

"Can you hold it?" Chan asks.

Han considers it for a moment then slowly leans back on his seat, "Yeah, I'll– I'll hold it," he doubtfully says.

"Distract yourself, you know, think of something so you don't want to pee anymore," Chan suggests.

"Think of the waterfall we went to yesterday," Jeongin playfully adds with a suppressed laugh.

"Hey!" Chan slaps Jeongin's arm, saying the opposite of what he suggested.

"I'll try to sleep," Han finds a better solution to detain his urge to pee.

"That's a great idea!" Chan says.

It's a good thing that Han is one of those people who can sleep anytime anywhere. He manages to sleep through two hours long of drive until the urge comes back.

"Guys, I don't think I can hold it anymore," he mutters, biting his lower lip until it turns pale.

Jinnie looks at him through the rearview mirror and sees how he can't hold the urge anymore, "The sign says rest area is only 10 kilometers away," she informs.

Han grips the headrest of Jeongin's headrest, "Okay."

"Are we good?" Jinnie asks.

"Yeah," he meekly answers.

"Just a few more minutes," you convince him.

There's nothing you can do to help him but you can relate to that feeling, you look back to check on him once in a while.

"Jinnie?" He calls again.

"Yeah?"

"Please step on the gas!" Han says, looking a little pale now.

Considering the urgency of the situation, Jinnie allows herself to go above the speed limit, she steps on the gas and the car picks up the speed, launching the car forward.

Sensing the change in speed, Chan wakes up from his nap and looks around in confusion. But the first thing he does when he gains his sense is check on Jinnie.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Han needs to pee," you answer for her since she focuses on driving.

"Almost there!" Jinnie says as she changes the lane to enter the rest area.

Han hops out of the car once the car gets to the parking lot of the rest area and immediately runs to search for the bathroom.

Once the car is parked, Jinnie lets out a sigh and leans back on her seat, "That was the most intense ten minutes I ever had in my life," Jinnie says.

Seeing the hilarity of it all, the three of you burst into laughter almost at the same time, making it one of those memorable little things that happened on this road trip.

The laughter wakes Jeongin up from his nap and he looks confused as to why everyone is laughing, "What's happening?"

No one is answering him but keep laughing until we're running out of air. Oh, there's nothing like the deep breaths after laughing that hard. 

-

Since they're stopping at a rest area and it's close to lunchtime, they may as well take a break from driving to ear. Everyone scatters the second they step into the food court to order the food they want. You decide on a bowl of ramen and get in the queue with Jinnie behind you.

Even though he's already carrying a tray of food in his hands, Chan stops next to the queue and scans the menu.

"Hey, baby sist!" He loudly calls you.

The people in the queue turn their heads to see who he calls baby sist, you hurriedly turn your back to them and glare at Chan.

"Please don't address me with that name in public," You scold him through your gritted teeth.

"Order a portion of fried dumplings for me," he says, ignoring your complaint and leaving with a grin.

Everyone gathers at one of the long tables in the middle of the food court with their choices of lunch, you slide the plate of fried dumplings at Chan and steal one piece with your chopsticks.

"You better not drink a lot of sodas if you have a weak bladder," Jeongin and his savage intake make an appearance.

Han pretends not to hear him and continues to stuff his cheek with more food.

The lunch is not enough, so everyone scatter once more to buy snacks. You're getting a bag of mini fish-shaped cakes for desserts and Han appears behind you with a big smile on his face.

"Got you ice cream," he says.

"How nice of you!" You delightfully exclaim.

"I don't know what you like so I chose three flavors at once," he explains the different flavors of ice cream in one cone.

"Thank you," you mutter your gratitude with a smile.

"I have to go for another bathroom break," he says with a grin lingering on his face, then leaves the other way.

The ice cream would make a great dessert if it didn't have strawberry ice cream in the mix. It's obvious that Han completely forgot that you're allergic to it, you can't eat it, or throw it away. You can give it to Chan but Han would know that you're not eating the ice cream he specifically bought for you and he would find that disrespectful, or worse, upset him.

Making your way out of the food court, you carry the bag of snacks in one hand and the ice cream in the other, still have no idea what to do with it.

Out of nowhere, Jeongin comes from the side, also carrying an ice cream in hand. He takes the one from your hand and switches it with him, a chocolate-flavored one.

"You can have mine," he says, not waiting to bite right into the ice cream.

Not only that he remember your allergy, but he also comes with a new ice cream and you find that endearing. You let out a mix of scoff and laugh, "I've never seen someone bite into ice cream."

"Well, there's always a first time to everything," he coyly says.

-

It's your turn to drive now and thankfully, you have set up an hour-long playlist for it. Jinnie remains in the front, sitting on the passenger's side and putting her legs up as she draws on her sketchbook.

The boys don't find it hard to fall back to sleep after a hearty lunch, you lower the volume of the music and only hum along to the song currently playing in the car to not wake the sleeping beauties in the back.

"What do you think?" Jinnie asks, holding her sketchbook out to you.

You keep the steering wheel steady to glance at the rough drawing of you from her point of view, then look back straight ahead.

"Wow. That's good!" You compliment.

Jinnie is a great illustrator, she mostly does illustrations for children's books and magazines which explains her exceptional talent for drawing.

"Please tell me you'll finish it and then email it to me," you say, already planning on making it your profile picture for your social media.

"I'll finish it when I'm not in a moving vehicle," she says, putting her pencil back into its case and putting it on the dashboard along with the sketchbook.

"I think it's cute," Jinnie says while stretching her arms to the front.

"What cute?" You ask with a perplexed smile.

"The way Chris calls you baby sist," she answers.

Oh, she must be talking about that little incident that happened back at the food court. You nod and tap your steering wheel to the rhythm of the song playing.

"Look, I don't mind when call me that in front of you guys. Just don't do it in front of a bunch of strangers," you explain, briefly shifting your focus to driving by a big truck.

"I mean... what if there are cute guys there and they heard it," you playfully remark.

Jinnie softly chuckles and grabs a bottle of water from the cup holder, "You're beautiful and smart, you shouldn't have any problems getting a cute guy," she says.

"That I agree!" You jokingly say with a sassy eyebrow raise.

When it occurs to you that this would be the perfect opportunity to have another crack at her, you arrange the words in your head before saying them out loud.

"I can say the same thing about you, Jinnie. You're beautiful and smart, except you have a lot of patience in you," you pause for a chuckle and briefly glance at her, "you shouldn't have any problems getting a hot guy."

Jinnie gets quiet and you begin to think that your words offended her in a way yet you give it another moment for her to digest your words thoroughly. She suddenly looks back, probably making sure that none of the boys are listening in on this conversation.

"I'm just a girl," Jinnie meekly says, lowering her voice as she slightly slumps in her seat, "All I can do is wait for the other person to profess their feelings to me."

Oh, finally! You manage to successfully crack her this time. You keep your cool and continue to crack deeper into it.

"I have to stop you right there!" You tell her with your hand raised, making a stop sign at her.

"You're not just a girl, you're incredible!" You may have exaggerated your tone a little bit but she needs to hear the truth in your words.

"You're not just beautiful and smart, you're kind, compassionate and you're strong and gentle at the same time. And if I'm being honest, I look up to you a lot," you openly admit.

"Aww..." Jinnie coos, she seems to be taking your compliments well along with a shy smile.

"And a girl like you shouldn't wait. A girl like you take matters into your own hands and you know, tell him how you feel," you encourage her.

Yeah, okay, maybe there's an underlying motive here but that doesn't make what you said to her a lie.

"It's a different thing when the person you like is your friend and you've been close with that person for so long," Jinnie sighs, her voice drops lower and she seems smaller than ever.

However, the mystery is now solved. Jinnie is indeed having the same feeling, she's hesitant only because they've been friends for too long. You get it that sometimes it's a bit scary to date someone who knows so much about you but if you focus on the good side, it means that they'll be more accepting and understanding towards your qualities.

If there are two people who truly deserve each other, it's Chan and Jinnie.

"Isn't that a good thing? You've known each other long enough to learn so much about each other and understand each other better," you give her your opinion and secretly glance to see her reaction.

Jinnie plays with the lint on her jeans as she digests your words while looking at the ever-changing scenery as the car keeps moving forward.

"You're right," she finally responds to your words.

Now, that you've tried your best to give her that little push, you can only hope for the outcome and hopefully, it'll be the best one.

"I know I'm right," you confidently remark, then burst into laughter.

Unbeknownst to you and Jinnie, Chan has been listening all along and behind his dark hoodie, he's smiling from ear to ear.

-

After stopping for dinner, the trip continues with Chan behind the wheel and Jeongin on his side. Jinnie takes the middle seat with Han and you occupy the backseat, using the extra space to curl up and sleep.

It's a bummer that you're not sitting next to him but this way, Han can easily look to the back and see you peacefully sleeping with a hand under your head, lost in your sweet dream.

"Hey, Han, can you get me a can of soda?" Chan asks without looking at him.

Since he's too busy watching you sleep, Han doesn't hear it the first time and snaps his head to the front, "What?"

"Get me a soda," Chan repeats while holding his arm out to the back so Han can hand it right into his hand.

Han rummages inside the small cooler box next to his feet, grabbing the first can that rolls into his hand and putting it into Chan's hand.

"Thanks!" Chan shortly says to him.

The road is eerily empty as it turns smaller from four into two lanes and the last sliver of sun has fully disappeared, replaced by the soft moonlight on a hot summer night.

Having nothing to do, Jeongin looks into the GPS to assess the route and the final destination.

"It says we'll arrive at 7 in the morning," he says.

"Yep, there's no hurry. We have plenty of time until the gig," Chan calmly says, still holding the soda in his hand, unopened.

Jeongin reclines on his seat and crosses his arms together on his chest, "And what we're going to do until then?"

"I booked us rooms at a hotel nearby," Chan informs, "we'll have some rest before leave in the afternoon."

"Hotel, right? Not motel?" Jeongin asks with suspicious eyes because the last time they stayed at the motel, he had to share the bed with Han.

"Yes," Chan hastily answers.

"I'm going to get my own room," Jeongin says.

"I thought you like sharing the bed with me," Han jokingly says.

"That's the least of my worries," Jeongin says, then gives each of them a glare.

Han pops his head in the middle of them, "Then what's the problem?"

Jeongin gives each of them a glare, "It's you guys snoring. It's like a whole orchestra in there but all the instruments are tuba," he says with a shiver.

Han grabs the front of Jeongin's shirt in response, "My snore sounded nothing like tuba!"

"How do you know what your snores sound like?" Jeongin asks, giving him the side eyes.

"Last time I checked it's Beethoven's Symphony No. 9," Han answers without a beat.

Jeongin leans at him and gives him a perplexed look, "What?"

"What?" Han asks back with daring eyes.

"Beethoven's Symphony No. 9," Chan says, finding himself giggling to it and his giggles gradually turn into laughter that fills the small, enclosed space.

Chan slows down the speed and holds the steering wheel steady with his forearms to open his can of soda. The second it pops open, the carbonated drink fizzles and spills out of the can.

"Oh, no, man..." he groans in complaint, seeing the soda get all over the steering wheel and dripping onto his lap.

"You made a mess, Chris," Jeongin grumbles, pulling multiple tissues out of the box and then handing some to him. He helps to wipe the droplets that somehow land on the console.

With one hand steadily holding the steering wheel, Chan keeps on dabbing the wet patch on the jeans with a ball of tissues.

"Ugh, it's sticky," Chan groans in disgust and then looks down at his lap to see if he misses anything.

The moment Chan's eyes are off the road, the headlights shine on an object that comes into sight, and Jeongin, as the only one aware of the deer standing in the middle of the road, reflexively grabs the steering wheel and turns it hard to the right.

Losing control of the car, no one can do anything to stop it. The tires are screeching against the asphalt as the car spins around, and eventually stops as it hits something with a loud banging sound, but no one is moving.

-

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[peterparkersnose]

I Fall In Love Too Fast

Part 2 to ‘Jealousy, Jealousy’

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 6.2k (I fed you guys well!)

warnings: implied age gap, carrot penis reference if you squint, Y/N is a greenhouse girlie, mutual pining, use of y/n, fluff, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy, borderline bullying, stalking, attempting break in, violence, angst, description of blood (sort of), consensual cuddling, joel can’t tell his veggies apart (edited sort of)

a/n shaking rn i need to see cocaine bear asap

summary Y/N and Joel have an unlikely meeting in Jackson’s greenhouse. 

masterlist

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read time: 22 mins 43 seconds

The low hums of the generator filled your ears. The greenhouse could be very peaceful at times. Something you couldn’t explain drew you to the plants. Ever since you were a child, your friends from the old QZ you grew up in would always question why you would rather read the old book about botany you found than play tag.

When you were presented with the opportunity of working in the greenhouse in Jackson, you were more than happy to accept the position. All the vegetation calmed you for some reason. It was a sense of control in this crazy world. It was almost like it was normal inside that tented space.

After a few years of living in Jackson, Maria decided to appoint you as head greenhouse keeper. You had proved your success throughout the years, the vegetation grew by over 35% (according to Maria, stats were never your thing).

It had been a few days since you had seen Joel. It was a quick, longing goodbye early in the morning. He wanted to make sure you were home before Bradley would have to wake up. The thought of your… ex? You weren’t even quite sure yet. But the thought of him made you want to vomit. And the thought of Joel made you feel… well, safe.

The music coming from your walkman began to skip. The old CD player was old in the time cordyceps started, but nevertheless it trudged on through the pandemic. CD’s were rare, but they were often traded in the community. Currently, Frank Sinatra’s greatest hits skipped through your headphones. Ellie’s CD, presumably from Joel. You didn’t take Ellie for a big Sinatra fan. The thought of having something of his with you made the music just a little bit sweeter.

The song “I Fall In Love Too Easily” began to play clearly through the headphones. You had the headphone jack placed in just the right angle. Ignoring everything else in the world, you swayed to the music slowly as you were washing off the carrots in the sink. As the song continued, you began to hum along with the tune. The song was new to you; the lyrics weren’t mastered in your brain yet.

***

Joel trudged down the muddy streets of Jackson. Tommy and Maria were having a get together that night, and he stupidly agreed to help. Maria requested him to go to the greenhouse to pick up some produce. After Maria’s pushing and adamancy, Joel finally agreed to go. He was suspicious on why he had to go and why Maria just couldn’t go herself, but he decided to leave the possible argument alone and just do what he was told. He wanted to stay back and help Tommy with the roast anyways. That was his specialty. Back in Texas, Joel would make the best damn barbecue in the neighborhood.

Hell, he had never even had to go to the greenhouse before. He was perfectly content on living off of canned beans and coffee. And it was Sunday; the one day everyone had off. The greenhouse was sure to be abandoned, meaning he would have to forage for the produce himself. Did he know the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber? Hell no. Not even when life wasn’t shit he couldn’t figure that out.

Maria smirked as herself and Tommy watched Joel slump down the street. Joel was reading off the slip of paper Maria had written down directions on to the greenhouse. “The only person crazy enough to be workin’ on a Sunday is Y/N, if anyone is there.” Tommy said. “Why do you think I sent him?”

They both gave each other conniving looks.

“You saw the way he acted at the Tipsy Bison earlier this week,” Maria said, sucking her teeth and turning around to tend to her stew. “Don’t you want him to be happy?” She called back to Tommy. He shook his head at his wife’s antics and returned to the roast.

***

Joel let out a scoff as he realized he knew exactly where he was going. The big, white tent that sat on the edge of Jackson. Embarrassingly, he made his way towards the big landmark he mistakenly used to take for a medical ward. To his surprise, the lights were on.

Joel gave the door a few knocks before he opened it, not to freak out the possible worker who could have been behind the door. He quietly slipped in. He brushed some of the mud off his boots as he opened the second door.

A rush of heat hit his face. His eyes scoured the large facility in look for a person. And right then is why he realized Maria was so damn adamant about him going to the greenhouse. 

Your hair was tied up like it was the night you stayed at his house. He recognized the flannel you had on as his own. Your jeans and boots were a classic look that almost every woman had around town. What he didn’t expect was the headphones and walkman clipped to your jeans.

Soft humms came from you. Joel was feeling conflicted; his ego couldn’t allow him to feel this way about you. But the way you do gracefully moved your hips and cleaned those carrots drove him nuts. The thought of you in his kitchen, the two of you cooking together brought warmth to the bitter man’s heart.

Bringing himself back to reality, he looked at the list Maria had scratched down for him. Maybe you could help him find a… butternut squash? He didn’t know there was more than one type of squash.

He stood in the entrance and waited for you to notice him; but you never did. You were so invested in that little sink that you never bothered to look his way. Joel took a deep breath, realizing he was going to have to get your attention.

The fearless man began to tremble with anxiety. He cautiously walked over stray hoses and tried to keep his footsteps on the louder side, so you could maybe hear he was coming.

You yelped as he tapped your shoulder. The carrot you were holding in your hand fell into the sink.

“I’m sorry I-”

“Oh thank god, it’s just you.” you said out of breathe, holding your hand to your chest. “Scared the shit out of me,”

The music played through the headphones as you wrapped the cord loosely around your neck. It played long enough for Joel to recognize the song.

“Sinatra?” he asked, your music taste peaking his interest. You clipped the walkman to your belt, it now rested against the black shirt you had his flannel loosely on top of. “Ellie loaned it to me,” you said, grabbing a towel and drying your hands.

“Must be mine then,” Joel tittered, nervously playing with the piece of paper in his grip. Your eyebrows raised in question, ignoring the confirmation of your previous theory. “I loaned it to her a few months back, thought she must’ve lost it but… I guess not.”

“Do you want it back? Here, you can…” you nervously said, struggling to get the walkman out of your belt loop. “Keep it, really. You seem to like it more than me.” he said, again. “Oh, I have this-” you said, beginning to strip the oversized flannel off your body. “Here,” you said, balling up the flannel and reaching it out to Joel. “Nah, it looks better on you than me. Trust me,” he said, awkwardly refusing the gift of his own belongings.

He could imagine drunk you saying “He said it looked better on me,” as you did a few nights ago in his bed when he called you ‘pretty girl’.

Why was he giving his things to you?

You wrapped the flannel around your waist. “What can I help you with?”

He outstretched the paper to you.

“Maria’s cookin’?” you asked, walking past Joel with the confidence that you knew where you were going. Obediently, he followed you.

“Some stew or something, she says it’s good but…” Joel said, sucking in air sharply. “Not so good?” you smirked, reaching a planter and looking up at him. He shook his head no but then said “It’s delicious,” in a forced, sarcastic tone.

You pulled out the first vegetable and handed it to Joel. Moving along, you moved to the next planter.

“Is that what your doin’ tonight?” you asked him, going through the pea pods trying to pick out the best ones. “Yup.”

He stood for a second in silence as he felt like something was missing. “Would you like to come?” he asked, praying Tommy wouldn’t kill him and Maria’s stew would taste better than it did last time.

Your heart sank because you already had plans. “I’m so sorry,” you began. Joel’s face turned bright red.

He was right. He was too old for all of this. You were just interested in being friends, maybe not even friends. He was so embarrassed, he was ready to go back in his house and never come out again.

“I promised Ellie and Dina I would come over tonight. Have a little sleepover, if you could call it that. Definitely need a rain check though, I would love to some other time.”

That damn kid stole his date.

“Oh, yeah. No worries.” he said, the rejection ruining his confidence.

“I mean it though, rain check.” you said, piling more veggies into his grasp. That built back some of his shattered rizz.

You made your way to the front of the greenhouse, getting ready for the last produce. Potatoes.

You chuckled as you looked behind you. Joel’s presence seemed to fall back. He was struggling to keep all the produce in his hands.

“Would you like a bag?” you asked, slowly moving towards the woven bags hanging on the wall. “Would be nice,” he awkwardly chuckled, grabbing a falling bunch of broccoli from his hands.

“Here,” you said, opening the bag in front of him as he layed everything in. “Shit,” he mumbled as a stray carrot stalk fell. You both bent down to retrieve it.

His hand accidentally layed on yours for a brief second. It should have been a minuscule moment, but time seemed to freeze. You looked up into his gaze as you both stood up, still both holding the carrot. You never wanted this moment to end.

“Potatoes?” Joel asked. Trapped in his gaze, you answered “Huh?”

“Don’t I need a few potatoes?”

You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back into reality. “Uh, yeah. Follow me.” you said, trying to calm your heavy breathing. You could almost feel your heartbeat pumping out of your chest.

The green tops of the potatoes reached out of the grass. Inspecting each top, you slowly and carefully made your decision. “You sure know what your doin’,” Joel commented as you looked up at him from the leaves. “Botany is my passion,”

“By the way your looking at those potato stems, I believe you.” “Maria’s stew has to be good this time. I can tell this one is a good one because of how thick the leaves are. The bugs haven’t gotten to it yet because it’s in the middle, you see. They are full grown, these are the ones planted around the spring. There full grown and…”

You looked up at Joel and found him with a sly smile. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“I like ramblin’. Could listen to it all day.”

He wanted to say he could listen to you all day; Even if all you talked about was potatoes.

“At least someone enjoys my rambling.”

Memories of Bradley point blank telling you to shut up because you were explaining how herbs could be used in medicine once plagued your mind. Then, the memory of his face bloodied scurrying on the bar floor replaced those. And you felt that warm feeling again, safe with Joel in the greenhouse.

Selecting the perfect one from the middle row, you began to pull. And pull some more. “God dammit,” you muttered to yourself. Giving up, you moved some of the dirt around the root.

“Can you help?” you asked kindly, as pulling on it one more time was unsuccessful. Joel placed the bag of produce down and moved to a different angle.

You expected them to pull out easily when he went for them, but he was struggling too. “What you do to ‘em?” he asked, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Locked in or something,”

You angrily decided to try pulling again.

“Let me,” he said. To your surprise, his hands came to your shoulders to ease the suspense of touch. Then, he moved forward bringing you into his embrace. His hands rested below yours. Your shoulders matched up almost perfectly with his broad chest.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice sending chills down your spine. You could tell how warm he was, even with the heat of the greenhouse making the both of you sweat. His arms flexed on yours as he began to pull the potatoes up along with your grip. He pushed back and you followed his grip. Within a few seconds, the potatoes freed from the dirt and sent the two of you flying backwards.

You two landed back first on the dirt ground. The feeling of his arms were still around you, he was still holding you on the ground. He had let go of the potatoes and they were thrown down the isle.

The two of you burst out in laughter, staring at the ceiling of the greenhouse. You genuinely didn’t want to leave this moment; and neither did he.

“I totally loosened it for you.” you bragged, sitting up and looking down at him. One hand rested under his head, the other layed comfortably on his stomach. “Sure ya did.”

He took your hand as you helped him up. His knees cracked, and he prayed that you didn’t hear it. The two of you made your way to the washing station at the other end of the greenhouse.

“Potato,” you said in a stern tone. He placed one in your hand. “Brush,” you requested. He handed you the brush. You turned on the water and scrubbed the dirt off the potatoes. “Towel,”

“Yes ma’am.”

The two of you laughed as he played along into your antics. He was standing so close that his hips seemed to connect with yours. “Is that the last one?” he asked, drying off the fifth potato. “Unfortunately,” you sighed.

“Your welcome back any time to wrestle some potatoes again, if you’d like.” you said, following him to grab his original bag of produce. “Why don’t we take on the corn next week?” he asked, not wanting to leave. He just knew Maria would be bombarding him with questions about what took so long.

“It’s a date!” you said, mostly serious but in a joking manner.

Dina froze at the door. Ellie was making homemade pizza for that night and sent Dina to get some tomatoes. She was frozen, peeping through the door she watched. Dina had just gotten a front row viewing of you and Joel struggling with the potatoes, your awkward impromptu cuddle on the ground, and the romantic potato washing.

As Dina saw the two of you finishing your… encounter, she made her way quickly to the side of the building.

Ellie is going to love this.

***

“Ellie, your never going to believe-”

“Where are my tomatoes?” she asked, disappointedly. Dina burst into the kitchen of their small house frantically. “Forget the tomatoes, El. You’ll never guess what I just saw.”

“What, another stray cat? For the last time, no stray cats.”

“Joel and Y/N.” she said astonished. She took a place on one of the barstools next to the counter.

“What about them?”

“No- Ellie. Joel and Y/N, they were cuddling in the greenhouse.”

Ellie looked up from her dough she was making. “Dina, did you breathe in some outhouse gas?”

“No! I promise you. I was going to get the tomatoes, but they were just laying there. Then they got up and washed potatoes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone wash vegetables so… sensually before.”

“I think your bullshitting me. Who cuddles in a greenhouse?” Ellie questioned, turning around and looking through the pantry. “Old stuff is going to have to do,” she sighed, pulling the old can of marinara sauce out from the back of the pantry.

“I wonder…” Dina began. “You remember how I told you about Bradley,”

“You remember how much I want Tommy to banish him?” Ellie reminded Dina. “Joel knocked that dude out!” Dina exclaimed.

“Yeah, but that’s just Joel being Joel. I’m sure he would do it for any one of us.”

“He walked her home!” Dina complained. “Your going to tell me there’s nothing going on there?”

“I think we should wait and ask Y/N. Not make assumptions,” Ellie sighed, giving Dina the side eye.

“They’d be cute, that’s all I’m saying.”

***

The sun was at the end of setting, the sky was a deep purple. You noticed Joel’s boot marks in the mud and how big they were compared to your feet. “Damn,” you whispered to yourself, stepping in one of his prints. Another pair of prints seemed to circle around the greenhouse. They were similar in size to your feet and had a different shape then the bottom of your shoes.

Following the odd marks, they moved to the side of the greenhouse. And then made a straight line towards where you were going: Ellie and Dina’s house.

“Oh no,” you sighed, following either Ellie or Dina’s footprints. You prayed one of them didn’t see you with Joel.

You tried to imagine Ellie’s reaction to it. What would there to be mad about? You were just friends with Joel. Even though you had admitted to yourself he was just your passing patrol crush about a year ago, you were taking things slowly with this new found interest.

And he was older than you, there was that. Adults can make adult decisions, you reminded yourself. You and Joel were both adults that had experienced a lot in life, even though yours was a bit shorter than his.

Would Ellie be mad? Her… Joel and her best friend (besides Dina of course). You shoved the idea to the back of your mind as you knocked on their door.

Dinner had an odd vibe to it. Dina had already had a few too many glasses of wine, and you were avoiding the alcohol at all costs. The other night was enough for this week.

“Your not drinking?” Ellie asked, chewing down on her pizza. “Nah,” you said, briefly commenting.

“What, you pregnant?” Dina laughed, filling her wine glass up again. You almost choked on your pizza. “God Dina, no.” you chuckled. “I haven’t fucked Brad in… four months? I think I would know by now.”

“Gross!” Ellie cringed. “I’m trying to eat!”

“Sorry, sorry.” you jokefully apologized. “Anything… new? With you know, Bradley?” Dina asked. Something was up with her.

“Not since Joel kicked him on his ass,” you said.

Dina gave Ellie a strange look. “Yeah, I remember. Did he get you home alright that night?” Dina asked. You swallowed a bit of your pizza. “Mhm,”

You hated lying to your friends. Without the truth, you felt miserable. You wanted to tell them all about Joel and how you have been secretly borderline obsessed with him since that night, but word getting back to Joel might scare him off. And you didn’t want Ellie to freak out.

“Then how come I didn’t see your porch light on when I left with Maria?”

You froze in your seat.

“I’m just fucking with you,” Dina teased, pushing her hand into your arm. “You like him though, don’t you.”

Lying is one thing you were never good at. “He’s a nice man.”

“You like him though, don’t you?”

The lack of response and the quickening of your breathe didn’t help your case. “Dina,” Ellie said, stepping in to Dina’s drunken antics.

“He took you to his house, didn’t he?”

“I…”

The whole town of Jackson seemed more quiet than usual. Ellie looked at your face and could see the panic. Her eyebrows rose as her stare widened, watching you squirm in your seat at Dina’s question.

“Holy fuck! Did you fuck Joel?” Ellie asked, now realizing the reality in Dina’s games. She was right; Dina totally saw you two at the greenhouse.

“No! No.” you defended yourself. That was the truth at least. “I… I didn’t want Bradley coming around and…”

“Oh my god,” Ellie said, standing up from the table. “We’re just friends! He’s a nice man Ellie, you know that.”

“Then why did I see you two cuddling in the greenhouse today?” Dina muttered from behind her wine glass.

You sighed and buried your head in your hands. So the shoe prints belonged to Dina.

“Y/N.” Ellie said sternly, standing at her place at the table and crossing her arms. “Tell me the truth.”

You grabbed Dina’s wine glass and took a large gulp.

“I- I like him, okay? I think he’s handsome, and kind and considerate. Everything Bradley isn’t and everything I deserve.” you said angrily, getting out of your seat and slamming it back in the table.

“Dina, your a dick when your drunk.” you yelled, grabbing your coat and heading for the door as Dina giggled at her spot.

“Y/N,” Ellie said, grabbing your hand. She closed her eyes and took a long breathe. “Your being for real?” Ellie asked, her look turned more sincere.

“As real as a bite,” you sighed.

***

The three of you, now in pajamas, sat in Ellie and Dina’s bed. Dina was braiding your hair as Ellie layed flat on her back and stared at the ceiling.

“Y/N Miller,” Ellie said out of the blue. Your head whipped over to where she was sitting, pulling your braid Dina was working on. “Jesus, El. A little too soon for that? I doubt it even,” you giggled. “In this world?” Dina asked. “I can lend you my white dress. With the embroidered flowers?” Dina suggested.

The memory of her embroidering those last summer resurfaced. “It is awful pretty,”

“And I can do your hair, hold on.” Dina said, undoing the braid she had been working on.

You felt her hands begin to work. “I just don’t know if he likes me back…” you sighed.

“Y/N. I know Joel. He wouldn’t just lay on the dirt floor with anybody.” Ellie assured you. “He barely speaks to anyone in Jackson as it is,”

“Would he even say anything? If he liked me?”

“Jesus, Y/N. This isn’t high school. Just tell him.” Ellie teased, sitting up in bed. “I’ll talk to him. Work some of my magic-”

“You better not!” you seethed, giving Ellie a glare. “Don’t embarrass me!”

“Ta da!” Dina announced, finishing putting a pin in your hair. You jumped off the bed and moved to the mirror.

It was in a low bun with a few stray hairs framing your face. It was so effortless and so elegant. “Dina,” you gasped, carefully cupping the bun with your hand. “I can make it ten times better, but just a thought.”

“I love it,” you gasped. “If I ever get married, you two are in charge of the wedding.”

***

Joel ate awkwardly at the table with Maria and Tommy in silence. The only noise in the whole house was the scratching of silverware.

“How was the patrol? Yesterday.” Maria asked both Tommy and Joel. “Alright,” they both said in unison. They definitely were brothers, men of very few words.

“Any news on the power plant improvement?” Tommy asked Maria. “I had some guys there today. So nice, working on their Sunday off.” she added.

“You know who works on Sundays?”

Joel’s fork stopped moving.

“I hear Y/N is running the greenhouse real nice.” Tommy said, already knowing the answer to Maria’s question.

“How was she, Joel?”

Joel looked up at Maria with a side eye. “Fine.”

“They’ve got blueberries now! Damn blueberries, I haven’t had any since before this shit. They were good,” Tommy mused, reminiscing on the delicious fruit.

“She’s a good chef too,” Maria commented. “Made some amazing salad dressing for the winter party a few weeks ago. Did you try her cookies too?”

“I remember,” Tommy added. “She’s gonna make a real nice wife some day.”

Joel’s fist hit the table a little too hard as he set down his glass. Both Tommy and Maria looked at him shocked.

“You alright?” Tommy asked.

“Can we change the subject?” Joel asked bitterly. “Why so angry? What’d she ever do to you?” Tommy pushed. “Goddamit Tommy,” he yelled, shoving his chair in.

“Thanks for the wonderful meal, Maria.” he hissed, lying and abruptly leaving their house. The picture frame on the wall shook a bit as he slammed the door.

“He’s down bad.” Tommy laughed. Maria sighed, her hands rubbing her temples. “Why do the two of you always seem to ruin a good night?”

“Hey, I barely did anything.” Tommy resisted with his hands in a defensive pose. “You know he likes her. The sheer mention of her makes him leave.” Maria commented. “God, I hope those two idiots find each other again. I don’t know how much more I can take of this.” Tommy sighed, chewing away at his roast.

It was dark outside now. Joel could hear the whisps of the wind blow in the trees. Creepy if you’d ask him, but Joel wasn’t afraid of much anymore. Almost all the houses were dark; with the exception of a few porch lights.

He turned down the main street and looked at all the lights still on. Maria’s guys must have fixed the power plant, pls business signs were flooding the street with their light. He glanced up at Ellie and Dina’s apartment; it was over one of the textile shops in the downtown department. The lights were out besides the one outside the entrance.

He took a double take when he saw someone standing out there.

Moving closer, he recognized the crouched down figure trying to pick their lock.

Bradley.

He reached the bottom of the old metal staircase before making himself known. He cleared his throat loudly.

“What in the hell are you doing?”

Bradley recoiled in fear, dropping the pocketknife on the metal landing. “It’s not what it looks like- I swear it Mr. Miller.”

“Then what does it look like?” he asked, slowly walking up each step. “I-I… Y/N invited me over. You know, lighten up the time with them. T-they had left over food she said.”

Bradley’s cowardly tone made Joel smile. He cracked a few of his fingers, intimidating Bradley farther and farther.

Joel knew Ellie. There was no way she would ever have leftovers; let alone invite anyone besides Dina to share them.

“You got about five seconds to tell me why-”

Joel was older and tougher, but Bradley was sly. He jumped up, grabbing the knife he dropped and swiped at Joel’s face with it.

Joel quickly ducked as fast as he could and kneed him in the gut. Bradley let out a loud oomf as Joel grabbed both of his hands and held them behind his back. “Nice try,” he whispered in his ear.

Now behind Bradley, Joel gave him a rough push down the metal stairs and took great pleasure in watching him flail down.

Unfortunately, the front door flung open and he was met with a shot gun to his face. He sighed, waiting for Ellie to realize who it was.

She cautiously lowered the gun as she recognized Joel’s face in the dim light.

“I taught you too well,” Joel sighed, moving the barrel of the gun out of his range.

“What’s wrong?” Dina asked, peeking out from behind the wall. You weren’t far behind her, hopping on your tippy toes to see what the matter was.

“You fucking fuck!” Bradley yelled from the ground. He was rolling around, clutching his leg. “You broke my leg, you asshole!”

Ellie looked at Joel in confusion. “Caught your peepin’ Tom on my way home.”

Emerging from behind Dina, you recognized those two voices from anywhere.

“Joel?”

His eyes met yours.

“Y/N, I dunno if you wanna look.” Joel advised. Ellie stepped out of the way as you poked your head out the door. A small gasp came when you saw your ex laying on the concrete. “Bradley, what the fuck!” you yelled.

“Please, Y/N. Take me back, I promise to treat you better than that old, violent grandpa!” He yelled, still in a ball on the ground. Joel let out a small breath of air from his nose. ‘Grandpa is really the best you got?’ he thought to himself.

“Your fucking pathetic.” you called back down to him. “How did he know I was even here?” you said, turning around to ask Ellie. She shrugged. Your hands began to tremble. “Hey, hey.” Ellie said, recognizing the panic arising in you.

She gestured for Joel to come in. She flicked a lamp on as you sat on the couch. “I can go get Tommy and a few other guys, we can deal with him.” Joel suggested.

Ellie looked at you for confirmation. Your eyes darted from her to Joel and back to her. She knew what you needed in that time. You needed him.

“Let me and Dina go get Tommy. I doubt Brad is going anywhere anytime soon.”

Joel opened his mouth to resist, but then saw you shaking on the couch. He knew Ellie was more than capable of fucking this guy up, and he rather stay with you. Even if the fucking up of Bradley sounded oh, so appealing.

“Alright.” he nodded, watching the two girls pull on their coats.

“May I?” he asked, outstretching his hand referencing to the couch spot next to you. You nodded your head. He sat next to you, not touching you. Joel was unsure of how to approach this.

“Joel?” you asked, turning to look at him. Your breathing was shaky and your eyes were glossy. “Yes?”

Without his consent, you moved closer to him on the couch. Your thighs were touching. The need for him to hold you right then was strong.

Joel let out a sigh of relief as he took your invitation of affection. His arm wrapped around your shoulder. You found comfort in his body, cuddling in and moving your arms closer to your body as he held you.

“Everything is alright,” he re assured you, taking his thumb and started slowly running circles into your shoulder.

“I’m sorry about what he said.” you sighed. “What- the grandpa comment? Pfft,” Joel chuckled. Your body moved against his as he laughed. “Doesn’t even phase me.”

“Well, he’s wrong.” you said. Joel looked down at you. “About what?”

“There is no way he could treat me better than you.”

A soft smile rose to Joel’s mouth. He wished he could hold you like this every night. The sweet smell of the rationed out shampoo filled his senses as he took another deep breath.

“Your damn right,” Joel whispered, leaning down and placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Your arm stretched along his torso, holding him tightly as the sounds of Bradley’s wails came from below.

***

At least an hour had passed. You had dozed off, leaving Joel alone in Ellie’s apartment. You were still connected to Joel at the hip, but your grip had loosened on his waist.

He looked down at you adoringly. He thought of almost every scenario as he waited for Ellie and Dina to return.

He had to ask you out. He wasn’t quite sure how, he figured Tommy could maybe give him some pointers. Or maybe Ellie, she seems to know what women like. And then dating you. He wanted to take you out to the fields outside of Jackson. A nice picnic maybe, you two could maybe bring some food from the greenhouse. He remembered how when he was a child he used to eat cucumber sandwiches (there better than they sound, trust me).

You could teach him the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber. You could be that balance in his life; something he had been searching for since he was a teenager.

He noticed your hair was in a falling out low messy bun. He imagined a veil coming out from it, and a luxurious white gown on you. Sure, he was getting ahead of himself. Little did he know you were discussing the topic of marriage just hours prior.

The fantasies about a lavish, non infected world wedding were diminished as Ellie and Dina made their way through the door.

“Shh,” Joel said, silencing their conversation.

“Aww,” Dina said, still a little tipsy from the night before.

“You should take her home. Bradley won’t be bothering her anymore.” Ellie said sternly. Joel noticed the bloodied knuckles on Ellie’s hand. Dina placed her baseball bat next to it’s resting place at the door.

“Hey,” Joel whispered, rubbing your shoulder. You groaned, holding him tighter. “Good morning,” you muttered. “Still night time, doll. Let’s get you home.”

You slowly woke up in Joel’s embrace. The scent of him sent you back to the first night you spent in his bed. “You wanna go home?” he asked you again. “No,” you protested.

“I’m sober,”

Joel looked at you in confusion. “Remember? ‘Talk to me when your sober’, or something like that?”

The memory clicked in Joel’s mind.

“I want to stay with you.”

Joel couldn’t resist. He helped you up from the couch. He grabbed your jacket from the coat rack and helped you put your arms through your sleeves.

“Is that a yes?” you asked him as he silently closed Ellie and Dina’s door. He sighed. “Sure,”

Walking hand and hand down the abandoned street, you began to humm the Frank Sinatra song from earlier that day. Joel listened to your sweet tune the whole way home.

As you reached his house, you kept the tune going again and again. Joel led you to his bedroom with his hand in yours. His alarm clock read a little after three.

“Get comfy,” he said, throwing his jacket in the corner. You dropped your jacket, leaving it by the bedroom door with your boots. All that was left was your jeans and your black tank top.

“You don’t care if I slip into something more comfortable, do you?” he asked. “Not at all.”

Joel stared at you awkwardly. “You want me to go to the bathroom or…”

“It’s your house. I don’t mind,” you said, boldly sliding off your jeans and kicking them into your pile. Your gray underwear was left on as you sat on the edge of his bed.

“Alright,” he chuckled, adoring your boldness. His pants came off and hit the ground with a thud. His heavy belt buckle made the noise. He opened a drawer and took out a pair of red flannel pajama pants.

“Look! They match the flannel,” you exclaimed.

He turned around, completely enamored by you. Your excitement, your pep, and everything else about you was just what he was lacking in his life. For the first time in years, Joel felt himself feel genuinely happy. It was scary for him, but he was ready to let go.

“Can I just say…” he said, walking up to you sitting on his bed. His right hand slowly cupped your left cheek. His thumb slowly, softly ran across your cheek. “You really do look better in the flannel in than me.”

He slowly bent down, giving you enough time to resist. To his surprise, you began to rise off the bed and connected your lips with his. Rising off the bed, you continued the kiss as you both took a few steps. His hand reached around your waist, finding a comfy spot on the bottom of your back. Your hands had moved to his hair, slowly playing with the locks in your fingers.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” you smiled, still in his embrace.

Joel’s body melted into yours. “I… I really…” he struggled to say. “‘I really’ you too,” you said, expressing to him that it was okay to be afraid. But you were there, and was ready for anything at any pace. His soft eyes seemed relieved at the confirmation of the now mutual feelings.

“Let’s get some sleep, hm?” you asked, sitting back down on the bed and breaking from his embrace.

His body held yours. Joel’s arms protectively kept you in his embrace. The four legs intertwined and kept each other warm underneath the blanket. You pushed into his figure, making yourself feel more secure than ever.

As he held you in bed, the tune began to sing again in your head. In a before sleep epiphany, you remembered the lyrics.

“But I still fall in love too easy, I fall in love too fast,” you whispered. Joel’s head burrowed in the nape of your neck. A tiny kiss was placed there in confirmation of what he had just heard.

Happiness consumed the both of you.

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