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beomiracles · 4 months ago

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⌞ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍 ⌝

DREAM RECALL ⸝⸝ He pulls away from you with a perplexed expression. Then he laughs, it’s short, cruel, he shakes his head. “Don’t be funny”, he mutters as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “You know I have a girlfriend, nerd.” He spits the words out like the venomous bite of a snake. His gaze drops to your unbuttoned blazer, briefly passing the harsh bruises on your chest. — “Don’t think you’re anything else besides a quick fuck.” ⸝⸝

wc ➘ 26k

pairings popular/bully!yeonjun x nerd!reader(fem) college au ! warnings heavy bullying, violence, exploitation, cheating, drinking, yeonjun is an asshole for 80% of this, redemption arc, some angsty scenes, hurt-comfort sort of? this fic contains 3/4 descriptive smut scenes which include — oral (both f & m), penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, a handjob, lots of degrading (reader receiving) but also a splash of praise, some tit groping, implied marking, very soft sex at the end (yeonjun cries a little), reader is inexperienced = virginity loss, + yeonjun teaching her how to give a blowjob as always lmk if I missed any!

#serene adds ✎ my god this fic has taken literal years off my life. But I could not have been happier with the outcome of it !! It's a long one, but I've tried to keep it interesting throughout it all for a lighter read. I'm not one to beg for feedback, but I will actually get down on my knees this time around. Please please comment/reblog or even send asks with your thoughts on it, I need it to be perceived in any way possible !! hehe please enjoy because I have slaved to get this done (if anyone notices the Skins reference in one scene, lets kiss)

(I was also slightly delirious when I read this through ahem...) anyway, ready, set go !

You don’t exactly know how it started. The cheating, the lying, the sleepless nights, the crying, the heartbreak, Choi Yeonjun. One day he was just…there. You had never met anyone like Yeonjun before yet you knew hundreds of people like him. He was everything, he was the cause of your pain, your tears, your self loathe. — But mostly importantly, Yeonjun was your first love. You would always remember him as that. You suppose it might have started on your first day at that college, back when you were only known as the junior transfer.

He was a senior. Perhaps it was a bit cliché, you don’t know, you didn’t think so. But you remember it clearly, the first time you saw him. — The air was hot, suffocatingly so, despite it being early October. Your palms were sweaty, and you squeezed them together as your hands remained neatly clasped in front of you. The eyes of the other students weighed a ton and you felt your knees buckle under the pressure.

Your professor clears his throat as he steps up beside you, gazing out across the classroom. “We have a new student today”, he announces what was already painfully obvious and you felt your cheeks redden further. Apart from a few sniggers here and there, silence follows. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?” His direct question made you flinch as you quickly glanced up from the floor, your gaze flitting between your professor and the large ocean of heads turned in your direction.

Your introduction was meek, the words getting caught in your throat as you stammered out your name. You could almost hear the smirks plastered on their faces as they drank in your fidgety frame. You jump when you feel your teacher's hand on your shoulder, “your new classmate is a year younger than you guys, but due to her impressive work ethic she has finished the majority of her classes already. She will therefore be joining us for the time being.” — His words of praise felt more like a set up for humiliation and you watched as students leaned over to whisper in each other’s ears, grinning at the words being passed around. You could hear the rumors already.

“Why don’t you take the seat over there?” Your new professor points to an empty desk by the very back and you breathe out a small sigh of relief, glad to be shielded from the peering eyes of your new classmates. But just as you’re about to step down and make your way toward the safe haven, you lock eyes with him. — Part of his face was shielded by his dark hair but you could clearly make out his brown eyes, staring right back at your own. He’s quick to catch on to your stare and you watch as his lips stretch into a menacing smirk.

Forcing yourself to look away, you grab onto your bag as you quietly make your way past the many rows of desks. An outstretched foot makes you stumble forward and you barely manage to catch yourself. “Careful”, one of the girls turns in her seat as she eyes you with a not so friendly smile, “wouldn’t want you to fall.” You give her a small nod as you hurriedly continue toward your own desk.

Thankful to have stepped away from the spotlight, you lean back as you let out a small breath. But it wasn’t enough. As class went on you continued to catch the multiple glances thrown your way, the small chuckles, the papers being passed around. It all felt too familiar, and your heart slowly sank. — You pushed the feeling away, focusing on what you did best, studying. Class was a nice distraction, but after an hour and a half it came to an end. And as soon as your professor had shut the door behind him, chaos erupted.

The scraping of chairs against the stone floor filled the classroom as students turned to get a glimpse of you. It didn’t take long for a small half circle to form around you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“How did you do it?”

The first one to speak up was a lanky guy, he leans closer as he studies your uncertain face. Before you could even process the meaning of his question, a girl interrupted him, the same one who had tried to trip you over at the beginning of class. “I bet she slept with them, I mean, she must have.” — Her statement is followed by laughter as people nod in agreement. “But how did you get them in bed?” Another girl asks as she looks you up and down with distaste, “surely it wasn’t whilst looking like that?” More laughter.

Your face might as well have been on fire as you glanced down toward your notes. “What if she drugged them?” Another guy chimes in as he points an accusing finger toward you. Hurriedly you shake your head as your lips part in a reply, a reply that immediately gets stuck in your throat as you’re interrupted.

“You guys are being too harsh.” Another voice speaks up, everyone falls silent and soon the crowd parts as the guy you had made eye contact with earlier steps through. He’s followed by two of his friends and the small group stops by your desk. “It’s obvious you guys”, he exclaims as he leans down to come eyelevel with you. When this close, his sharp eyes somehow felt like daggers, boring into your soul as his lips curled into a smirk.

“She’s a nerd.” He draws out each syllable like it was his last, his lips stretching wider as he sees your face fall. Small gasps and hums of agreement fill the silent room, as if everyone just instantly agreed with whatever he said. “Don’t think of her as anything else”, he drawls, straightening his back once more as he stares you down.

You soon found out that his name was Choi Yeonjun.

⸝⸝

Your first day had only proven to be a small trial of the school year ahead. Word had quickly spread of the transfer student who took classes with the seniors, and wherever you went, you had eyes on you. — You tried your best to keep to yourself, to focus on your studies. That was how you had made it through your previous schools. But it seemed futile here, because no matter how low of a profile you kept, they always found a reason to pick and pull at you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing nerd?” She yells as she shoves you against the red lockers and you groan in pain. You couldn’t remember her name, but you knew that she was a senior too, she sat two rows ahead of you and to the left. — Confused, you look up only to be met with a harsh slap to your face. “Don’t play stupid, I know that’s the last thing you are.” She sneers and your lips part in objection, though no words come out.

The girl signals for her friends to block either side of you, shutting off any escape routes as she rolls up her sleeves. “You think you can just go through my shit like that? That I wouldn’t know?” Her statement baffles you and your eyes widen, “what?” Another slap to your cheek, “right, come on now. Give it back.”

You frown, “give what back?” Her friends on either side of you grip onto your arms and you wince as they twist your limbs. She scoffs, “my lipstick you idiot, I know it was you. Who else would take it? Besides, I’ve seen the way you eye it whenever I put it on.” — While her words were partly true, you did think that her lipstick was really pretty and often found your gaze lingering whenever she picked it up from her bag, you would never stoop to such a level as stealing.

“I didn't steal your lipstick”, you croak out and she lets out a huff of disbelief. She goes off on yet another rant but you’re suddenly distracted as your eyes land on the small group of students walking by.

After your first day, Yeonjun hadn’t addressed you once. He never picked on you, never engaged in gossip about you, he barely even acknowledged your existence. But you knew that he was behind most of what happened to you, because everyone listened to Choi Yeonjun. If he didn’t like what was going on, he would put an end to it, but he never did.

You often saw him in the halls, he was always followed by his two friends. On your second day you had learned that the three of them were practically inseparable. — To his left was a tall guy, his frame could easily tower over just about anyone, yet he trailed behind his friends quietly with his head hung low. If it wasn’t for the scowl on his face whenever someone dared to glance in his direction, you would have assumed that he was just any other student. His name was Choi Soobin, that much you knew.

To his right, was perhaps Soobin’s opposite. He was shorter than his friends, not by much, but it made him stick out. His hair fell in uneven sections across his face and he often brushed it away with his pinky whilst he spoke. Unlike Soobin, Choi Beomgyu talked almost all the time, with the occasional input from Yeonjun. Though few of his words were kindhearted. He often picked on you, his comments were snarky and mean, you only ever caught a break when Yeonjun got fed up.

Then there was Choi Yeonjun, walking in the middle, he gazed ahead as Beomgyu blabbered nonsense into his ear, Soobin following slightly behind them. The Choi’s, that was what people called them. Something to do with their names all being Choi, you thought it was kind of corny. Yet you couldn’t deny the way your eyes lingered on Yeonjun, just a little longer than the rest.

It wasn’t like you thought that he was handsome or anything, but he was nice to look at…you supposed. And even though you knew better than to pay him any mind, it was hard to tear your gaze away from him. Only when he passed you, did you feel your heart stutter. For the first time since your first day here, he looked at you, if only for a brief moment. His gaze flickered over your practically torn limbs and a small smirk etched its way to his lips. — You felt your knees go weak under his eyes and swallowed hard.

Though his attention soon returned to the girl draped under his arm, the same girl that had tried to trip you over on your first day. You had found out that she was his girlfriend, her name was Mimi. She twirled a strand of her hair as she whispered something in his ear and Yeonjun chuckled. — Their small party continued past you as if nothing was wrong before disappearing down the hallway, leaving you to face the fate before you.

⸝⸝

You convinced yourself that it wasn’t a crush, that you simply found him appealing. The topic of crushes stopped being a thing after middle school, right? You, a twenty year old, have a crush? The thought was ridiculous. But no matter what lies you forced into your brain, your heart still beat a little faster whenever he was present, your eyes drifted in his direction and there was nothing you could do to stop them. — So what if you did have a small crush on Choi Yeonjun? It wasn’t going to harm anyone, it wasn’t like you were going to act on it. He had a girlfriend. Whenever you reminded yourself of said fact, a pang of guilt shot through your chest. You know you shouldn’t feel guilty, but it was hard not to. Most of all you felt guilty toward yourself — guilty for letting yourself sink to such a level.

As October went by, you did your best to stay out of the firing line of your classmates, you kept your head down and did your work. And when there was no work left to do, you spent your time looking at Yeonjun. He really was pretty to look at. — You noted the way he would lean back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head before yawning, his eyes momentarily fluttering closed. Usually, he wasted his classes on his phone, or chatting with Beomgyu, it was unusual for him to be doing any of his coursework. Perhaps he didn’t need to, or he simply didn’t care to.

Occasionally, you would catch your name slipping past Beomgyu’s lips, your gaze immediately snapping down to your book as your heart practically beat out of your chest. But no matter how many times he mentioned you, pointed at you, sneered at you, Yeonjun never even as much as turned his head in your direction, simply shrugging along to whatever his friend was saying.

The only time Yeonjun looked at you was when everyone else did. That one time someone poured milk over you in the cafeteria, or when you got a basketball in your face during gym. Only when the whole school pointed and laughed, only then did he spare you a fragment of his attention. And maybe you did like it, maybe you did want him to look at you.

It was kind of pathetic.

What was perhaps even more pathetic was that one offer you hadn’t been able to pass up. It wasn’t like you could say no to your professor either, right? — “I think there are a few students who would benefit from studying together with you.” You blink up at him as you watch your teacher lean back in his chair. This was why he had called you? To be frank you don’t know what you had expected when he asked you to stay behind after class, but this was far from it.

“Studying with me?” You repeat as you point a confused finger toward yourself. Sure you worked hard, but that was because you had your mind set on doing so. You doubted that your classmates would want to spend even a second wasted in your presence.

Your professor sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are a clever girl”, he nods toward your latest test result on his desk and your gaze follows his movement as you swallow. “Not to mention the fact that you are a whole year ahead of your peers.” He then adds with a small smile and you silently thank him, even though you were certain that he could smell the hesitation radiating off of you. “Look, it is not something you have to decide on today”, he begins as he gathers the papers on his desk, “but students like Mr. Choi could definitely use a hand in their studies.”

Your ears perked up at the brief mention of his name, and it was almost embarrassing how quickly your head jerked in the direction of your teacher. Though you did not dare get too ahead of yourself. Shifting on the spot, you softly clear your throat, “Choi…Choi Yeonjun?” Your professor stops to look at you, “why, yes, but you do not have to decide today take the weekend to-”

“I’ll do it.”

⸝⸝

You’ll do it? What a joke.

Your whole weekend was spent pacing back and forth across your room. Teeth gnawing away at your fingernails, your mind wrecked with different scenarios of how that following Monday would play out. What were you honestly thinking, saying yes like that? — With an exasperated groan, you flop down on your bed. Staring at the ceiling, you envision Yeonjun, a furious Yeonjun, or maybe a jeering one, you didn’t know which approach he would take. But surely he wouldn’t be happy once the news reached him, unless they already had?

Briefly you considered calling in sick that Monday. You had never called in sick before, at least you couldn’t remember doing so; recalling the multiple times you had ignored the fever in your body as you marched on to class. Not to mention that time you had the flu and still sat through your three hour long exam. — Were you really considering calling in sick over a mere guy. But it wasn’t just a guy, it was Choi Yeonjun.

Regardless of the situation, you still went to school on Monday. But as soon as you stepped inside the classroom, you could tell that something was different. It was like the air had shifted. And as you made your way to the back of the room, carefully taking your seat, not a single one of your classmates bothered to pick on you. Instead they all occupied themselves with whatever they had in front of them. It was odd to say the least.

In regular fashion, the classroom door swings open during the very last minute as Beomgyu saunters inside. Behind him follows Soobin and Yeonjun, both in the midst of a hushed conversation. You find your gaze instinctively lingering by Yeonjun’s tall frame, fingers twirling your pen mindlessly in your hand. It isn’t until you glance up and find his eyes already boring holes into your own, that you’re suddenly ripped from your trance.

Yeonjun was looking at you. He was actually looking at you, no, he was glaring at you. The realization was enough to send your heart into a frenzy as you swallowed a gulp. His gaze is unwavering as he approaches his desk, still conversing with his friend, but his eyes remain entirely on you. — Sweat builds on your forehead and you grip your pencil tightly. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find yourself to break his gaze. You knew that you were giving him exactly what he wanted by letting his eyes practically tear you apart, so why couldn’t you pull away?

It isn’t until the classroom door opens yet again that he puts out the fire he had momentarily created between the two of you, his eyes shifting toward board as your professor clears his throat, ready to begin today’s lecture. As his monotone voice fills the room, you breathe out a sigh of relief, glad to be out of his sight.

He had to have known by now, the nasty looks he shot you throughout the day were more than telling. For someone who never even paid you as much as a second thought, it was most unusual for Yeonjun’s full attention to be directed toward you. Even during lunch, you could feel his eyes on you as he sat by his usual table. With Mimi on his lap and Beomgyu talking in his ear, his gaze still remained on your slumped figure as you focused on your plate of food.

⸝⸝

Your professor had helped set up today’s session, but after that you would have to schedule them on your own. You were supposed to meet by the library, at 5:15pm that Monday. — You were there by 4:55. It took you about five minutes to pick a suitable table, not too close to the door, not in a corner somewhere, but also not in the center of the room, perhaps you were overthinking it. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Desperately you tried to calm your nerves as your trembling hands brought out your notebook and pencil case.

By 5:15 you were ready, actually you had been ready for the past ten minutes. The small library had been vacant even when you arrived, you didn’t know if you felt relieved at the fact or not. — By 5:25 you started to think that he might not show up. Out of all possible scenarios fabricated in your way too creative brain, the one of him not even bothering to come hadn’t crossed your mind at all. What would you do then? Accept defeat? Tell your professor? Talk to him in class? Neither option seemed too appealing.

It’s 5:32 when the doors creak open. Hesitantly, you lift your gaze as you watch Yeonjun’s eyes wander across the room, finally landing on you. His face morphed into a scowl and you felt your stomach drop. You notice that he hasn’t brought any study materials along with him and you bite the inside of your cheek. The short breath he lets go of echoes out into the silent library and then he marches toward you. — You don’t have time to think before he’s by your table, the palm of his hand slamming against the wood with such force that your pencils rattle, and you flinch.

“Do you think this is some kind of sick joke?” He sounds agitated, his hot breath searing through his gritted teeth as his nostrils flared. Your once tense jaw falls open as your brows draw together in a confused frown. — “I mean, I knew you had a thing for me. But don’t you think this is going too far?” He sounds almost hysterical as a grin spreads across his lips.

You felt color rushing to your cheeks at his words. Did he know? Could he tell by your small glances? But you thought you were being subtle. Yeonjun seems to be reading your mind as he runs a lazy hand through his hair, “oh come on now nerd, for someone so clever you really are quite oblivious.”

“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice the way you eye-fucked me every single opportunity you got?” He sneers, tilting his head to the side as he watches you with a cruel look of distaste. Your lips part but no words come out. So you shake your head, you didn’t know who you were trying to convince, him or yourself. “It wasn’t like that…”

He scoffs, “no?” Suddenly his face is only inches from yours, and you had to force your gaze not to stray down to his lips as he spoke. “Then what is it?” He murmurs, so close that you could almost taste his words on your tongue. You swallow, hard. What was it? You didn’t know, you didn’t want to answer, he couldn’t make you answer, could he?

His grin widens as a low chuckle rumbles in his chest. “No way”, he shakes his head as one of his hands grip the backrest of your chair, easily twisting you to face him fully. His previously cocky expression was replaced with a look of sympathy, his voice now laced with pity.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a little crush, nerd.” He spits the words out and you’re quick to shake your head, denying his blunt accusations. “I don’t”, you stammer, leaning back as far as your chair would allow you to. — “You’re telling me you’re doing this out of goodwill?” He asks as he tilts his head to the side. He hardly seems moved by your denial, but when you quietly nod his smug face turns into a snarl. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What? No, no, no that’s not what I-” You stop yourself before getting another word out, it felt like no matter what you said, you only worsened the already sour situation. Yeonjun exhales, his warm breath slamming against your already hot face. He leans back, taking a seat on the edge of the table as his hands dig into the pockets of his uniform. Confused, you watch him as he silently gets comfortable.

“What do you want then?” He finally asks and you blink up at him. “My number? Is that it?” He wonders as he fishes up his phone, unlocking it as he pulls up his contacts. You shake your head and he frowns, “then what?” — Your lips part and you motion toward the books in front of you, “just…”

“Don’t tell me you want me to fuck you, because that would be pathetic, even for you nerd.”

His statement catches you so off guard that you almost hit your leg on the chair opposite your own. “What?” You whisper, unsure of the fact that you had even heard him correct. You knew that there was no such universe in which someone like Choi Yeonjun would ever view you in that way, so it felt almost bizarre to hear those words leave his lips so casually.

He sighs as he gets up from the table, leaning down to become eye level with you once more. “I mean, I get that you’re desperate, believe me”, he lets his gaze drop to your chest for a brief second. “Looking like that, I’m sure it’s hard to get by”, he hums, and in that moment, you wished for the ground to swallow you whole.

It had been a foolish idea to even consider doing this, even more to say yes. If you had only turned your professor’s offer down, none of this would have happened. Because in all honesty, if this was how Yeonjun looked at you, with such menace and fabricated pity, you think you preferred it when he paid your existence no mind.

“But you’re lucky”, he murmurs before leaning even closer, his breath mingling with your own. Lucky? What a joke, you thought. — You flinch when you feel the light caress of his fingers on your shoulder as they slowly entangle themselves in your hair. “I’m feeling particularly nice today”, he smirks and your eyes involuntarily dart down to his perfectly plump and pink lips. “Besides”, he drawls, his hand moving to cup your cheek.

“I’ve never fucked a nerd before.”

You barely get the chance to second guess his words when Yeonjun presses his lips against yours. Immediately you freeze as your shoulders jerk up and your back curls against the chair. The hand on your cheek moves to your chin as he grabs ahold of your face, forcing his tongue inside your mouth and you let out a small shriek. — He hums against you, his eyes fluttering closed, lips moving on top of your unresponsive ones.

A moment later he pulls back. “You kiss like a virgin”, he states as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. As soon as the words left his lips, he grins, “but I bet you are.” — Still too stunned to even speak after his sudden course of action, you merely shake your head as you glance between him and the floor. You weren’t a complete virgin, you did have a boyfriend back in high school. Not that the two of you ever went further than kissing though, and even then, his kisses were nothing like Yeonjun’s.

Hesitantly you meet his gaze, swallowing down the nerves bubbling in your throat. “Come on now nerd”, he murmurs as his hands grip onto the armrests of your chair, large arms entrapping you against the old wood. “You’ve done it now haven’t you?” — “You got me here all to yourself, why don’t you use it to your advantage hm?” His eyes gleamed with mischief and you knew better than to trust his persuasive ways. Still you found it hard to do anything besides gawk at him, in utter disbelief of what was currently happening.

Biting your lip, you let your eyes flit down to his parted lips, focusing a little too long on the sheer layer of saliva that coated them. Yeonjun is quick to pick up on the subtle shift in your focus and he chuckles. You clearly see the way he moves closer, but it still doesn’t register that he’s kissing you again until his tongue molds against your own. Despite your initial shock, you try your best to kiss him back this time. You knew that you were probably horrible, but even then, he didn’t say anything.

Your breath catches in your throat when his hand envelops one of your breasts, groping it softly. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had your tits touched?” He drawls, easily noting your uncertain approach. Your silence is almost deafening and the way you squirm when he pinches one of your nipples tells him everything he needs to know. With a small frown he pulls back, just enough for you to see his face. He looks conflicted, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek as he runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck, you really are a virgin aren’t you?” He sounds almost…serious and you find yourself slowly nodding as you grip the hem of your skirt tightly.

Yeonjun sighs and you hear him mutter something under his breath. His gaze snaps back to you and you can see the shift in his eyes once he settles on a decision. “Alright”, he states before quickly dropping to his knees. Baffled you follow his direct movement, shrieking as his hands on your knees part your legs. “We’ll start slow”, he hums as his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your thighs, your weak arms easily giving up when he pushes your skirt up.

“No need to be nervous”, he reassures you as his fingers hook around the hem of your panties, “I’ve done this plenty of times.” With that, he tugs your underwear down, past your knees, letting them pool around your ankles before his attention shifts to your exposed core. Your legs close in an attempt to shield yourself from his invasive stare but Yeonjun only gruffs out a short breath as he breaks your knees apart once more. — When he doesn’t say anything you grow worried, clearing your throat awkwardly as you shift on the chair. You had never done anything like this before so you had no idea if his silence was a good or a bad thing.

You don’t have to ponder for long as his fingers suddenly graze your folds. The touch was unexpected and you jolted forward as you tried to suppress the surprised noise threatening to escape. The smirk stretching across his lips only grows as Yeonjun basks in the way you react to his simple touch, you were far easier than any of the girls he’d been with. — “Ever had anyone touch you like this?” He asks, his voice a low murmur as his attention remains on his fingers sliding against your cunt, gathering the slick that formed as he smeared it all over you.

Meekly you shake your head, breathing out a small “no.” He seems satisfied with your answer, his ego inflating by the minute as he watches you writher under his small touches. Everything still felt so surreal, there was no way that this was actually happening, was it? You’re reminded of all the times you had watched him from afar, sneaking shy glances at him during class, before and after school, in the cafeteria, where he sat with his friends and…and his girlfriend. The reminder is enough to pull you from whatever euphoric state that transpired within your body as you jerked away from his touch.

Yeonjun’s eyes snap to you with a hint of curiosity and you bite the inside of your cheek, drawing in a small breath before daring to speak. “M-Mimi… w-what about her?” — He groans, a frustrated groan, and you wonder if you overstepped. “Nerd, someone like you, doesn’t count as cheating, got it?” He holds your gaze, speaking clearly, as if giving instructions to a toddler. He grins, a menacing grin, “besides, shouldn’t you be happy? I’m giving you what your perverted little mind has craved since you first stepped foot here.” Sheepishly you nod, heat rushing to your cheeks at the blunt statements he made.

Choi Yeonjun was bold, his words were harsh, and a lot of times they hurt. For some reason that made you like him even more.

“Now stop asking obvious questions”, he grunts as his hands trail along your thighs, pulling you forward on the chair, ignoring the way you squeal when he nuzzles his face between your legs. — It felt far from what it looked like in the movies, or even in porn. Yeonjun's hot breath against your core, his tongue dragging across your folds, it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand and you gasped as he flicked your clit.

It was almost impossible to control the way your thighs twitched, squishing either side of his head as you fought to remain composed. A small whine left your lips as he latched on to your sensitive flesh, licking and sucking on it as if it was the only thing he was capable of doing. You barely register the way one of his hands grab onto your trembling ones, guiding them to his hair as he hums against your cunt. “Don’t be so awkward”, he mutters, his tongue dwelling deep inside of you, eliciting a moan from you as your fingers immediately twist in his dark locks.

Never in a million years had you thought that the study session that you had been far too eager to agree to would turn into something like this. And that Choi Yeonjun of all people would be the first one to see such a part of you. — You didn’t know if it was such a good thing. But it was impossible to form a single coherent thought with him between your legs, mouth falling open in surprise as his nose bumps up against your clit. He doesn’t seem to mind when you push yourself further onto his face, practically grinding your hips on his mouth as small noises of pleasure ripped from deep within your throat. You were thankful that the library had been vacant for hours.

“Y-Yeonjun!” His name falls from your lips without registering in your brain beforehand and you almost slap a hand over your mouth as realization washes over you. Yeonjun on the other hand, only chuckles, the sound sending vibrations against your sensitive cunt and you whimper as he withdraws his tongue from within you. — A somewhat familiar sensation bubbled in the depths of your stomach. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had an orgasm before, but the occurrence was rare, you didn’t exactly spend much time with yourself like that.

His name is pulled from your chest once more and his grip on your thighs tighten. “You got something to say, nerd?” He wonders without leaning away from you, hot mouth working against your throbbing core as he draws moans and whines from you. “C-close..” you mumble, feeling your cheeks redden at the small statement, and you were suddenly glad that he was unable to see your flustered face.

“Cum on my face then, bet you’ve never done that before.”

The comment was mean, possibly even degrading, but it still made you clench incoherently around nothing as you released against his waiting lips. To your surprise, he doesn’t immediately pull away, his face remaining between your legs as he laps up the aftermath of your orgasm, drinking in the taste of you with a small satisfied groan. — And when he does finally tear himself from your sore cunt, you can barely look him in the eyes, ashamed at what had just transpired between the two of you. Yeonjun doesn’t seem affected in the slightest, his thumb wiping away the sticky fluids on his chin before popping them in his mouth. The sight should not have made you throb but it did and you bit your lip.

Without warning, he suddenly gets up as he dusts off his pants. “W-where are you going?” You’re unable to stop yourself from asking. He shoots you a glance that says ‘well isn’t it obvious?’ He sighs, frustrated by your blunt obliviousness, “our session is over, isn’t it?”

You blink at him, still recovering from your climax as you pull your panties back on. “But the study-” — “You’ve got what you wanted, haven’t you?” He states as he stares down at you, much like he had on your first day, and your words suddenly fall short as you meet his gaze. Shaking his head, a small chuckle escaped his lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow, nerd.”

The last thing you hear are the library doors slamming shut before the room is enveloped in a deafening silence once more.

⸝⸝

Everything had returned to normal the following Tuesday. You could barely wrap your head around it. The snarky comments were back, the pestering stares, whatever had roamed the air yesterday seemed to have completely vanished and you were left dumbfounded. — There was only one exceptionally different thing. Choi Yeonjun.

Part of you had hoped that he wouldn’t come to class, but that was a foolish thought. You hear him before you see him, or rather, you hear Beomgyu’s obnoxiously loud voice echoing off the hallways as The Choi’s approach. The classroom falls into a hushed murmur as the door swings open and the three of them enter. — You had told yourself that you would avoid him at all costs. That meant not speaking to him, not looking at him, not even glancing in the same direction as him.

You found it to be very hard. But the shame over what had happened not even 24 hours prior kept your gaze trained to the pages of your notebook. Not even as he pulled out his chair, making an agonizingly scraping noise that cut through the otherwise quiet room, did your eyes stray from the words in front of you, rereading them over and over as you tried to get your brain to register them. — You lasted approximately two minutes.

One small peek his way confirmed your every fear. Leaning back in his chair, Yeonjun paid you no mind as he scrolled through his phone, one of his hands rubbing the back of his neck as he did. He acted…just like he usually did, as if nothing had happened between the two of you. For a moment you had worried that he would tell everyone, that was a shame you wouldn’t be able to bear. But perhaps he was trying to spare his own reputation, you could only hope he would keep quiet. Did he regret it? Probably. Why wouldn’t he?

What was perhaps even worse than his indifferent mannerism toward you was when Mimi greeted him with a kiss. Flinging her arms around his neck, she pulls him close as she practically shoves her tongue down his throat. Beomgyu makes a vile comment before turning to Soobin but besides that, no one else paid them much mind. Except you. The guilt was eating you alive, and you weren’t even the one who had cheated. What would happen if she found out, would she break up with him? Surely she would find a way to put the entire blame on you. You did not dare think of how miserably you would be treated if she found out. It couldn’t happen. You would have to talk to Yeonjun about it, one way or another.

But how?

You tried approaching him at lunch, but you only managed one step in his direction before you chickened out. Then you tried again before English, this time you made it halfway before Soobin swooped in right in front of you, his tall frame covering Yeonjun completely from view and you sighed. Your last shot was after gym. As everyone ventured toward the locker rooms you trailed behind, Yeonjun had, too, stayed to talk with your professor but just as you were about to approach, a tap on your shoulder freezes you in place.

“The hell are you staring at, nerd?” Beomgyu’s voice is filled with distaste as he eyes your sweaty figure, his nose turning up in disgust. Stunned, you fumble for words as your eyes dart between him and Yeonjun, just a few paces away. “N-nothing I was just…” — “Just leaving, right?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and you quickly nod. “Y-Yeah”, you squeak out before rushing off. Why did his friends never stray from his side? It made things so difficult.

You were always the last one to leave the changing rooms. Hiding away in the bathroom, you waited for the other girls to finish before you dared to venture out and get changed yourself. It had become somewhat of a routine, not that it was particularly comfortable, but as it was your last lesson of the day, you weren't in any rush. — Whilst you get dressed, your mind concludes with a ton of ideas to approach Yeonjun. It would have to be when there was no one else around, before or after school seemed like your best bet. The only remaining problem was his friends, who seemed to be glued to his side.

Grabbing your bag, you walk over to the exit as you think of a way to get him alone. But as the door to the locker room closes behind you, it seems your problems have solved themselves for you.

“What took you so long?”

Yeonjun’s sharp voice startles you and you almost drop the bag in your hands as your head snaps in his direction. Leaning against the wall, his own gym bag swung over his shoulder, Yeonjun studies you with an indifferent expression plastered across his face. Your mouth falls open as you peer down the empty hallway, completely at loss for words. “Y-you waited for me?” You splutter as your attention shifts back to him.

He purses his lips as he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “yes, but I’m starting to regret it.” — “Do you always take this long?” His voice is laced with annoyance and you swallow as you shake your head. “I- I mean I…I didn’t know you were waiting I..”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” He waves your meek explanation off as he shifts against the wall. Still confused on why he was even here in the first place, you bite your tongue as you wait for him to speak first. But out of everything he could’ve said to you, you had not expected the next words that were to come out of his mouth.

“When’s our next study session?”

What? He wanted to have another study session? You had been prepared to confront him about yesterday, to tell him, no beg him, to keep quiet. Yet he was asking for another session? You were sure he could read the bewilderment on your face as his lips drew into a grin. “N-next session?” You gawk out as your mouth repeatedly opens and closes. He rolls his eyes before huffing out a short breath of air, “yes our next session, we never settled on a date.” — Well you didn’t think he wanted to, you had planned on telling your professor that the whole ordeal had been unsuccessful but here he was, asking for a redo?

Was it a good idea to say yes? Considering how last time had played out, the answer was probably not. — “I- I’m free whenever.” But you obviously were very bad at listening to your gut instincts. However the smile that spread across his face made it all worth it, you felt your heart speeding up at the endearing sight. “Perfect”, he chimes, “then we’ll do tomorrow 5:30.” You nod but before you can get another word out he adds, “third floor, room 291.”

Would you guys not be studying in the library? Despite your slight uneasiness, you nod, “alright.” — “Make sure no one sees you on the way there, and don’t be late.” He warns before turning on his heel and walking off. You were left stunned as you leaned against the wall, still gripping your bag tightly in your hands as you tried to process what had just happened.

⸝⸝

Wednesday rolls around, the day progresses just like any other would. But something feels different, you feel different. It’s a different kind of excitement, bubbling in the pits of your stomach. You had barely gotten any sleep last night, which was a warning sign on its own because you always made sure to get 8 hours. But you don’t feel tired, not in the slightest. And as the last bell of the day rings, you hurry to the bathroom.

You never fussed over your appearance, far too busy with having a book stuck under your nose. But today felt different, sure the two of you were just studying, it didn’t mean that you couldn’t make an effort if you wanted to look nice, right?

The sound of bathroom stalls slamming behind you shifts your attention to a group of girls passing by. They all stop as they watch you apply a clear gloss to your lips, their noses scrunching up in disgust. “What’s gotten into that freak?” One of them mutters as she makes a move toward you, only to be stopped by one of her friends. “Don’t, you might get contaminated”, she sneers and the small group burst out into a fit of giggles. — Holding back a small sigh, you ignore them as you wait for them to leave before daring to do the same.

Your shoes echo off the now almost empty hallways, it was late enough to where few students lingered behind. Still unfamiliar with the building, you made your way to the third floor. You took no classes here and you had to rely on the numbered doors in order to find 291. It takes a while but soon you’re standing in front of it.

Your hands tremble as you hurriedly glance down the hallway, making sure no one saw you. When your gaze returns to the door you realize that it was a lot smaller than the others, its red paint standing out amongst the otherwise beige ones. That was odd. Yet you push any concerns aside as you reach out to twist the handle.

Upon stepping inside you quickly realize that this was not a classroom. The room was small, crowded shelves pushed up against all walls, displaying a large range of items, from old books to tools such as screwdrivers and wrenches. Your eyes scan across the multitude of contents as your mind tries to piece together the scene before you.

“You’re awfully punctual”, Yeonjun drawls as he emerges from a shadowed corner. You jump as you turn to him with a confused frown, “what’s this?” — He grins, his hands digging deep into his pockets as he leans against one of the shelves, “this is where our study sessions will be taking place from now on”, he explains as he motions for you to have a look around. From now on? But there was hardly room to study here, was there?

Quickly noting your perplexed expression, Yeonjun’s grin widens. “Well come on now, nerd. You didn’t actually think I was planning on sitting down and doing algebra with you?” Your frown deepens, lips parting as your eyes dart between him and the cramped space. “But what…then why are we here?” You ask as you readjust the rather heavy bag on your shoulder. — He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes a step forward, that single step is enough to get him right in front of you, his chest dangerously close to yours. His hand slides up your arm, reaching your shoulder as he hooks two fingers under the strap holding your bag. “Use that clever little brain of yours for something other than your studies, and maybe you will start to see the bigger picture.”

Your bag hits the floor with a thud as Yeonjun’s hand returns to your shoulder, fingers twiddling the collar of your blouse as he waits for the wheels in your head to finally turn. And when they do, you glance up at him, your eyes wide with realization. “Yeonjun I… I don’t know…” Your eyes flit toward the door, mind altering between your options, stay or go, stay or go, stay or–

“Tell me now.”

His voice is calm and his posture remains stoic as he peers down at you. “I’m not about to waste my time on a loser like you if you’re not even into it.” He sneers as his hand lets go of your collar, pushing you back, only slightly, but enough for you to hit the shelf behind you. Was he seriously asking for your opinion right now, for your consent? Choi Yeonjun was willing to spend time on you, with you. The news were hard to melt and you found yourself awkwardly gazing up at him as your mind fumbled for an answer.

“What’s it going to be, nerd?” He tsk’s before leaning forward, one of his hands resting on the shelf next to your face as he cages you against it. Briefly you considered turning back, walking away, to return to your otherwise dull life as you watched him from afar. You remembered Mimi, his girlfriend, the guilt and shame, suddenly it came crashing down all over again. But you also remembered his words: “someone like you, doesn’t count as cheating”. Had he really meant that? If not, why else would he be here right now?

In the end, you nod. “O-Okay”, your voice comes out as a small peep and you curse yourself for not controlling it better. The smug smirk that immediately crawled onto his face should have been a waving warning flag, yet you ignore it, too caught up in the way his eyes darted to your lips, eyeing the clear coat of gloss you’d previously applied. His thumb swipes across the sticky substance. “I was about to tell you not to disappoint me”, he murmurs before pulling your lip down, “but I can already tell that you won’t.”

Your heart swelled at the small praise, and you leaned into his touch. You hear him scoff at your blunt advances, his lips twitching as he eyes your eager figure. “You virgins really are gullible.” — He presses his mouth against yours, making you gasp in surprise as your pupils blow wide. In what you guessed to be an attempt at loosening you up, his hands roam up and down your sides, settling on your waist as he pushes himself closer, grinding his hips against yours.

You had no clue of what to focus on, his tongue in your mouth, his hands on your waist, or the way his thigh pushed between your legs, rubbing against your panties in a way that had you practically squealing. — You knew that he was enjoying the reactions he pulled from you, ever so sensitive to his smallest of touches. It’s not long before his hand is on your thigh, gradually moving along your skin before reaching the hem of your underwear. He pushes the fabric to the side, fingers sliding across your already pathetically wet folds before finding your clit, as if they had done this a hundred times.

The moans you emit are all swallowed by his hungry lips on yours as he lets you grind yourself onto his hand. None of the previous hesitation you had felt during your session in the library was present in your mind, all you could think about was how good he felt, how you didn't want him to stop, and how you wanted more, a lot more.

“More.”

You can feel him smirk against you, your desperate whine ringing out into the hot air. — “Yeah?” He muses before pulling back, his lips are coated in your clear gloss, the sight was strangely enticing and you find yourself nibbling on your own lip as you sheepishly nod. He chuckles, pressing his lips against yours whilst he hikes your leg around his waist, the small adjustment bringing you even closer to him, and as you feel the hard bulge through his pants, reality slowly sets in.

But you can’t stop now, you don’t want to. The sound of him undoing his zipper becomes a muffled noise somewhere in the background as your arms wrap around his neck, clinging to him in every way possible. — He breaks the kiss, confused, your eyes flutter open as you try and peer at him in the dim light of the storage room. You briefly catch him tearing a small package open with his teeth and for a moment you’re left completely dumbfounded before realizing that it must’ve been a condom.

People wore condoms for one of two reasons, either they were avoiding knocking someone up, or they were afraid of catching diseases. But what disease could you possibly be carrying? So that would mean… You don’t have time to ponder on the matter further as you feel the tip of his cock against your folds. Immediately your eyes shoot open as your hands grip onto his shoulders. Suddenly everything seemed very real, perhaps a little too real.

“Tell me if it hurts”, he murmurs, his forehead leaning against your own and you meekly nod. Was it supposed to hurt? You draw in a sharp breath as you feel him slowly push inside, the stretch of his fingers had been nothing compared to this and you felt completely unprepared. His movements come to an abrupt halt as he leans back to gauge your reaction with a wary expression. Quickly nodding, you loosen your grip on his shoulders, breathing out a small “‘m fine.”

“Yeah?” He wonders and you nod once more. Only when he’s fully inside, do you dare let out the breath you had been holding in; feeling your body relax against his. “You feelin’ okay?” His genuine question catches you off guard and you give a small nod of assurance. “Y-Yeah I am..” — He smirks, then he captures your lips in a small kiss, the gesture distracts you from the moment he begins to move, gently rocking his hips into you and you gasp against his mouth.

“Fuck”, he grunts. With one hand around your waist and the other maintaining a steady grip on the shelf behind you, he slowly thrusts inside of you. “Are all virgins this tight?” He murmurs, the question was rhetorical and he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, “or is it just you nerd?” — “I bet it is.” He sounds menacing but his ragged breathing makes it hard for you to tell if he’d really meant it or not.

The items on the shelf rattle as his pace grows quicker, harsher, drawing moans and whimpers from you with every move his hips, cock stretching you wide as you claw against his shoulders. He leans back, enough to where he can watch the way your lips part, your now smudged gloss spread across your cheeks and chin as you whine. His gaze drops to your chest, fingers quickly beginning to work on the buttons that concealed you from him. Flicking them open one by one, Yeonjun’s hand quickly tears your blouse apart, eyes darting to your plump breasts as they bounced in rhythm with his movement.

“You’ve got some nice tits for a nerd”, he muses, his hand groping your chest as his thumb flicks along your covered nipple. Feeling your cheeks redden, you only moan as he draws deeper inside of you, the tip of his cock brushing against parts of you that made you squirm. — Yeonjun made you think of yourself, see yourself, in ways you never had before, and it was exciting.

“Has anyone ever told you that, hm?” He sneers, his hand pushing your breasts together as he watches the flesh squish against one another, groaning at the sight. Unable to form a single coherent thought, much less a full sentence, you merely shake your head. “Well you do. You got some of the nicest tits I’ve ever seen.” He grunts, hips snapping against you. The compliment makes you throb around him, your orgasm approaching at a rapid pace and your fairly short nails dig into his shoulders.

“P-Please”, you wail and Yeonjun rolls his eyes, letting out a gruff sigh. “Thought you would last longer than this, nerd.” — “But don’t worry”, he murmurs, leaning in close as his lips trail the shell of your ear, “it comes with practice.” He moves down your neck, prepping your skin in soft kisses before he pulls it between his teeth.

You whimper when his thumb rubs at your clit, legs trembling around his waist as your hands move to his hair, fingers threading through his dark locks before securely latching on. It doesn’t take much for your high to hit, your cunt clenching down around his cock as it pulls him in further. — Yeonjun curses under his breath as his hips jerk forward before stuttering. In the pure ecstasy of the moment, you roughly pull his face from your neck as you crash your lips against his. You knew that it was messy, sloppy and uncalculated, but you didn’t care as long as you got to feel him this close to you.

You hear him sigh, you can’t tell if he’s content or not. But a moment later he breaks the kiss, gazing at you with a clouded expression as a small grin tugs at his mouth. He bites his lip, eyes dropping to your chest one final time before he pulls out, making you wince at the sudden feel of emptiness. — “Not too bad for a first timer”, he comments as he rids himself off the condom. You open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it.

“Same time Friday, got it?”

⸝⸝

Your study sessions with Yeonjun became a regular thing, and every instance was just like the former. They would take place after school, in room 291, shielded away from prying eyes as he had his way with you. You were there, at his every beck and call, never once showing up late nor canceling. — It was both thrilling and excruciating. You knew that whatever transpired between the two of you was nothing personal and only temporary. Yet you couldn’t help but long for something more; you longed for Yeonjun to like you back.

It was probably a selfish thought, a selfish fantasy. But the images of Mimi flashing before your eyes, which had previously filled you with both dread and guilt, were suddenly replaced with a feeling of superiority. Because even if she didn’t know it, her boyfriend fucked someone else on the side, her boyfriend was cheating on her, with you. And it felt good. Often you had to hold yourself back from letting said fact slip past your lips. The scenarios would sometimes look something like this…

“Watch where you’re going, nerd.” Mimi spits after purposefully crashing into you in an almost empty hallway that provided more than enough room for two parties to pass. Her friends turn to you with a scowl as they fold their arms across their chests. Your eyes dart between them and their vengeful leader before flitting down the long corridor, down to where The Choi’s were hanging out.

Making the mistake of letting your gaze linger, garners her attention as Mimi snaps her fingers in front of your face. “What the fuck are you looking at nerd?” She barks as her eyes follow yours. She scoffs, her lips curling into a smirk, “do you think my boyfriend looks good or something?” Her question rips your attention back as you feverishly shake your head. — Mimi only laughs, her friends quickly joining in as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s okay, I don’t blame you, really.” She tries to appear nice, perhaps even pitiful, but the malicious intent behind her words linger. You shake your head once more, “no I wasn’t I..” She holds up a finger to silence you, “come on now, it’s obvious. Everyone knows you have a thing for him.” She practically giggles as she covers her painted lips with a hand. Your cheeks feel as if they were on fire, your gaze dropping to your shoes as you bite the inside of your cheek.

“But don’t worry”, she leans closer, her breath, which reeked of the strawberry bubblegum she always chewed, fans across your face. “You’re not exactly his type.”

The statement almost made you scoff. Not his type? Was that what it was? You briefly considered telling her, telling her what her boyfriend was doing behind her back, and with the school nerd at that. The one girl she thought she didn’t have to worry about. It was almost a bit comedic. But you held your tongue. No matter how bad you wanted to crush whatever illusion she had going on, you couldn’t. Besides, Yeonjun would probably just deny it, and who would believe you?

Speaking of Choi Yeonjun. — He had become almost insufferable outside of your sessions. From barely looking at you in class to bringing attention to you at almost every possible second, Yeonjun was now the sole epitome of the bullying you endured. Whether it was the nasty and mean comments he shared with Beomgyu, his words echoing out through the classroom as he brought the whole class to laughter. Or the multiple times in which he’d trip you over in the hallways, undoubtedly peeking up your skirt as he did, but of course, no one noticed that, and if they did, they didn’t fault him.

Choi Yeonjun did nothing wrong. He never did. So when he invites you to a party, your very first one, you don't know what to say.

“Think about it”, he huffs as he zips his pants back up. The air in the small storage unit felt hot and stuffy, your clothes sticking to your sweaty body as you pulled your panties on. “I don’t know..” you quietly murmur, glancing down toward the dark floor as you twist your hands behind your back. — Yeonjun sighs, running a hand through his hair before he tries again. “Why not? Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

You shake your head. “I’m not. But…I don’t know anyone, I don’t… I can’t just show up there.” You argue before swallowing the lump in your throat. It had been an outright baffling proposal on his side. What would people think if you just turned up? — “Tell them I invited you, they’ll let you in.” You blink up at him, was he being for real right now?

“Y-You?” He nods, as if it was a given. “Make sure to wear something half decent at least.” He says, giving your shoulder a pat before he pushes past you and out of the small room, leaving you in the dark once more.

⸝⸝

Something half decent? What was something, half decent? You didn’t know, and it took you about an hour to pick out a dress you thought would be suitable. It wasn’t particularly short, stopping at your knees, the dark purple complimented your skin nice, you thought. But it felt uncomfortable to walk in, and with one hand wrapped around the fabric, you pull it down as you near the driveway of a large villa.

Your eyes flit across the scenery, it was dark out, but the house remained lit despite the late hour. Music was playing, loud enough to where the beat echoed out across the empty street. Swallowing a gulp, you run a hand through your styled hair one final time before daring to step inside.

Immediately you’re greeted by a large number of perplexed eyes, everyone slowly turning to you as you venture further into the villa, reaching the filled kitchen space. “What’s she doing here?” “Did someone invite her?” “I can’t believe she would actually show up.” — You cringe at their remarks, trying your best to ignore them as your eyes scan for Yeonjun. What if he wasn’t here? What if this had all been a ploy to draw you out and humiliate you further. You shouldn’t have come here, you really should–

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Mimi’s harsh voice snaps you from your small trance as she immediately corners you. Freezing on the spot, your hands curl into fists as you turn to her. Desperate for a way to defend yourself, to explain the situation, or to just escape all together, your mind spirals with excuses. Your lips part but you can’t seem to get a single syllable out. “Come on nerd, I asked you a question.” She huffs, growing impatient as she takes a step forward, her chest almost touching yours.

“I’m…I..” Could you really tell her that her boyfriend invited you? Would she believe you? No, of course not, no one would. You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes flitting across the crowded kitchen. — “Did you come here to make a scene or something? I mean come on, you’re not even a senior.” Her comment makes everyone hum in agreement as they nod, some even sharing a couple of laughs.

She was right, and even if she wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. You stood no chance against anyone in this room. Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes and for the first time since you came here, you actually felt like crying. Taking in a small breath, you slowly exhale again. “Well I…”

“I invited her.”

Your heart practically froze over as Yeonjun’s voice cut through the tense air. Quiet murmurs carry out through the room as everyone redirects their attention. Somewhere in front of you, you can hear Mimi scoff as she takes a small step back. “What?” She questions and you finally dare to lift your gaze, your eyes immediately locking with Yeonjun’s as he leans against the kitchen island, seemingly unbothered by the small uproar taking place.

Mimi on the other hand seemed to be fuming as she glanced between her boyfriend and you. “What do you mean you invited her?” She seethes, her voice laced with hatred and spite. Yeonjun shrugs as he digs his hands into his pockets, an indifferent look on his face. “Come on now, loosen up a little. It’s our responsibility as her seniors to take good care of her, don’t you agree?” He lets his gaze wander across the multiple eyes directed at him, everyone seeming to break under his stare as they quietly nod.

He cocks an eyebrow in the direction of his girlfriend, “then there’s no problem, hm?” Mimi’s mouth had fallen open as she watched him win everyone over within a matter of seconds. Though quickly regaining her composure as she nods, muttering out a quiet, “whatever”, before she pushes past you with such force that you almost lose your balance.

Yeonjun sighs as he moves off the countertop, placing a hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder, “get her something to drink won’t you?” His friend frowns, “why me?” But Yeonjun doesn’t pay him any further mind as he, too, takes his leave, most likely in search of his raging girlfriend.

As soon as he leaves, the previous tension seems to lift as everyone returns to whatever conversation they had been preoccupied with earlier. You breathe out a small sigh as you wrap your arms around you, leaning against the kitchen island as you keep your gaze down. — A drink is shoved in front of you, it’s reddish hue making you frown as you gingerly take it from Beomgyu’s outstretched hand. “T-Thanks”, you mumble as you grip the plastic cup tightly.

You’re surprised when he doesn’t leave, instead he groans as he takes place beside you, resting his hands on the countertop behind him. “Y’know I really don’t understand why he invited you of all people.” He begins and you can feel his eyes roam your body with distaste. Swallowing, you quietly nod as you sip on the drink, it wasn’t at all as bitter as you had expected it to be, rather it tasted kind of sweet.

“I…I don’t know either”, you shyly mumble, keeping the cup to your lips as you occupy yourself with gazing down at the liquid swirling around. Beomgyu scoffs as he shakes his head, “Of course you don’t. No one knows what’s going on in that thick skull of his.” — His words came out…almost insulting, and you wondered why he chose to speak in such a way about his friend.

“You’ve got some guts though, I’ll give you that.” He states, running a hand through his messy hair as his eyes fixate on something in front of him. Surprised at the sudden almost compliment-like statement, you glance up at him in sheer bewilderment. “Not many people in your shoes would’ve come here”, he adds as he gives you a quick one-over. “No offense y’know, but you kinda look…” His nose scrunches up in what you could only guess to be disgust and you bite the inside of your cheek as your gaze drops to your dress.

“O-Oh yeah…I guess.”

Beomgyu chuckles, “My, are you gullible.” You internally wince at his words, a small grimace flickering across your face as you take another sip of your drink. You can feel his eyes on you as Beomgyu studies you closely, a little too close. “Y’know, maybe I do understand why he invited you”, he sniggers, pushing himself off the kitchen island, he leaves without saying another word.

Left confused and yet again, alone, you chew on the plastic of your cup as you wonder how long you would have to stay before it would become appropriate to leave.

⸝⸝

You think an hour had passed, it felt like three. Back pressed against the wall of the open-spaced living room, your eyes roam the makeshift dance floor as you watch the way your classmates enjoy their evening together. Your presence had soon become old news and after your first encounter, Mimi had left you alone, and so did everyone else. You were thankful, you supposed. But you still didn’t know why Yeonjun had invited you, much less why you had even decided to show up. Because right now, he was nowhere to be seen.

You think that you might be able to just sneak out, leave, go home and forget that this evening ever took place. This wasn’t for you, that much you could tell. You would face the embarrassment come Monday, but today, now, all you wanted to do was evaporate.

Standing up a bit straighter, you tug your dress down once more, preparing to leave. It’s only then he makes an appearance. It’s quick, so much so that if it weren’t for the subtle tap to your forearm, you would’ve probably missed him as he passed you by. Your eyes follow Yeonjun’s retreating frame as he aims for the staircase, leading to the second floor. Before climbing the first step, he throws a quick glance over his shoulder, eyes finding yours as he flashes you a small smirk.

You gulp as you watch him disappear again. Nervously chewing on your bottom lip, your gaze flits across the room, no one was looking at you. Still you wait another five minutes before aiming for the stairs as well. Each step forward made your legs feel like jelly and you steadied yourself against the railing.

The second floor consists of a long hallway, with doors either side of it, reaching down to at least four of them. Your heartbeat picks up at the thought of having to push all of them open as you carefully peeked inside. But your attention is drawn to the third one on the right, slightly ajar as a yellow light seeps through its cracks. Hesitantly you venture forward, coming to a halt in front of it as you debate your next move. Did you knock? Call out for him? Was he even there? Maybe you were seeing things. There was only one way to find out was there?

Mustering up whatever courage you have left, you gently push the door open. The room is… a bedroom. A small onesize bed, pushed up against the window alongside the empty bedside table, tells you that it’s most likely a guest room. Your eyes flit to the armchair in the corner, widening as they land on Yeonjun’s figure, sprawled out against the cushion, a hand down his pants as he lazily strokes himself. He watches you with a faint smirk, his head leaning back against the backrest, eyes half lidded as they peer over at you.

What was going on? You glance back and out into the hallway, afraid that someone, anyone, might walk by. What if Mimi came looking for him? But you were almost certain he’d meant for you to follow him. Quickly you shut the door behind you, locking it for good measure. Yeonjun watches your hurried movements with an amused expression, the hand on his cock unwavering.

“W-What’s all this?” You quietly wonder, willing your eyes to look anywhere but him, anywhere but the hand down his trousers. He doesn’t say anything, lifting his free hand, his index finger beckons you over and you hesitantly comply. Stopping by the chair, you awkwardly clasp your hands together in front of you as you wait for him to break the stale silence.

“You look nice tonight.” He finally says, his voice seemingly indifferent as he shamelessly lets his gaze roam your body, stopping at the slight cleavage your dress provided. In the dim light casted by only a small lamp on the drawer next to him, you were unsure if he could make out the blush coating your cheeks or not. “Thank you..”

He hums, readjusting himself on the soft cushions as his legs spread further apart. It takes everything in you not to let your gaze drop. For a moment everything is quiet, and you wonder why he had even bothered to get you up here in the first place. But then he sighs, the small exhale easily garnering your attention as you shift on the spot.

“Have you ever blown someone before?”

He asks the question as if it were any other and you feel the color on your cheeks intensifying. He can’t just ask someone something like that…But then again, there was little Choi Yeonjun couldn’t do. Part of you doesn’t understand why he even bothered to ask, wasn’t it obvious? Another part of you suspects that he wants to hear you admit it, wants to see you get flustered as you shake your head, squeaking out a meek “no, never.”

That’s exactly what you do. — He smirks, a wide smirk, exposing his sharp teeth as his free hand grabs onto one of your own. You let him pull you to your knees, the soft carpet beneath your bare skin felt nice but it was hard to focus on anything but the bulge in front of your face, the movement of his hand visible through the material of his pants.

“I’ll teach you”, he mumbles, letting go of your hand as he pushes your hair back, gaze wandering across the light makeup you had applied, lingering by the cherry red lipstick on your lips. You slowly nod, hands gripping onto the hem of your dress with such force that you’re surprised it doesn’t tear.

Without further warning he leans back, swiftly pulling his cock free from his jeans as he continues to stroke it, now only inches from your face. Sure you and Yeonjun had hooked up before, in the darkness of the small storage unit, in places where you never paid his dick much attention apart from when it was inside of you. This was the first time you actually saw it, you think, and this close too.

Your jaw goes slack as your eyes trail across the large veins climbing up his shaft, coated in a sheer layer of arousal, seeping through his fingers as they wrapped around the length of it. Gulping, you eye the tip, a bright red hue as droplets of precum spilled from the slit. You would be lying if you said that the sight didn’t make your thighs clench together. — Obviously enjoying your stunned response, Yeonjun groans as he gives himself a particularly harsh tug, making your eyes widen further as they flicker from his cock to his face and back again.

“Come here”, he directs you to scoot forward and you do, offering your hand for him to take as he guides it to wrap around his shaft. He felt hard and heavy in your palm, and you bite your lip as you try to gauge his reaction. Letting his hand drop to his sides, Yeonjun sinks back against the cushion as he peers down at you. “Start slow, don’t use too much pressure but don’t be afraid to touch me. I’ll tell you when you can speed up.” He instructs as he lets his head fall back, getting comfortable as he pays you little mind.

Your attention returns to his cock in your hand, doing as he said, you slowly let your palm glide up and down, fingers quickly becoming coated in the shiny layer of his arousal. You can’t tell if he likes it or not, he gives little reaction as he stares up at the ceiling. You want to ask him, you want him to reassure you, but it feels stupid to ask, and you hate feeling stupid.

His hand joins in on top of your own, guiding your fingers to his tip, which you had purposefully avoided as you didn’t know how to approach it. “Flick your wrist like this”, he murmurs, letting your palm glide over the head before returning to stroke him. He only shows you once before his hand moves back to his side. But you can tell that he’s watching you now, eyes tailing your every movement as you repeat what he had just showed you, rolling your hand over his tip, drawing a small huff of air from him.

“Use your thumb”, he breathes, and your gaze flickers to his face in slight confusion before catching on. The next time you twist your wrist over his head, you press the surface of your thumb against the slit. He shudders under you, a small groan passing his lips and your heart speeds up at the small confirmation you just received. It managed to boost your confidence enough to where you gripped him more firmly, experimentally squeezing his cock, just like he had done moments prior, relishing in the way his breath hitched.

“You can go -f-fuck- faster.” He grunts, his hands sliding against the armrests of the chair, fingers digging into the plush cushion. Quickly nodding, you’re happy to oblige, repeating your previous movements but with an increased pace as your eyes dart between his leaking dick and his slightly contorted face.

When he first twitches in your hand, you’re taken back. Surprised by the sudden movement yet you felt yourself throb as you tugged at him even harsher, wanting to pull that very same reaction from him once more. — He’s stopped guiding you, biting down on the inside of his cheek as he tries to muffle whatever noises threaten to escape. You don’t mind, in fact it only spurred you on further as you flicked your wrist over his flushed tip once more.

His hips buck up against your hand as he lets out a strangled noise. His hand quickly finds its way to your hair, brushing it back as he breathes out through his nose. “Fuck, slow down”, he mutters, tugging at your hair as he forces your face up to meet his, “I’ll cum before you’ve even blown me at this rate.” The statement made your chest swell with pride, still, your hand slows down as you settle back into a more languid pace.

He takes a moment to open his eyes, drawing in a few ragged breaths before he does. The hand in your hair moves to your face, cupping your cheeks as he pulls you closer, the tip of his cock merely inches from your lips and you swallow. “Relax”, he says, fingers pulling your mouth open and you let him. “Breathe through your nose, and don’t use your teeth.” — You slowly nod, your hands bracing themselves on his thighs as he taps his cock against your parted lips, smearing his arousal all over your cherry lipstick.

He pushes inside slowly, you wince at the stretch, your mouth widening as much as it allows. The first thing you note is the salty taste, it isn’t particularly strong and you’re relieved. But no matter how hard you tried to relax your jaw, when his cock hit the back of your throat you instinctively pulled back with a small gag. — Yeonjun tsk’s above you, the hand on your cheeks gripping you firmer as he pulls you back onto his dick. “Thought I told you to relax, no?” He murmurs, letting out a breathy moan as you let him slide himself back into your hot mouth.

Your eyes screw shut as you focus on evening out your breathing, taking steady breaths in and out through your nose as you allow your tense frame to relax under him. “Think of it as the same as what you did with your hand.” His fingers relax against your cheek, thumb grazing your skin as he feels the way his cock slides in and out of your pliant lips. — It feels weird at first, uncomfortable too, but after a while you slowly get used to the feeling of him in your mouth.

Hesitantly wrapping your lips around him, you press your tongue flat against him as you carefully bob your head up and down. He groans somewhere above you and your eyes flutter open as you peer up at him through your mascara coated lashes. Yeonjun always looked good, but there was something about him like this, from this view. A sheer layer of sweat that made his dark hair stick to his forehead, his parted lips and furrowed brows, you clenched at the sight, taking him deeper and with much more urgency.

Something about tonight felt…special, perhaps even more intimate than all your past encounters. Maybe it had to do with the change of scenery. The dimly lit bedroom, the plush armchair, the fine carpet, you can’t place it, but something is different. And for the first time, you can only think about Yeonjun, not his girlfriend, his friends or even your classmates. It was only him.

Remembering how you had pressed your thumb against his slit earlier, you pull back to refocus your attention to only his tip, your hand joining in to stroke the rest of him. You press your tongue flat against his head before swirling it to the best of your abilities, watching intently as Yeonjun’s brows drew further together, a breathy moan ripping from deep within his chest.

“F-Fucking hell”, he groans, his head falling back against the cushion. “Fuck ‘m gonna-” His hips jerk forward, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you pull back with a small wince, unprepared for when his hot cum spurted into your mouth. Not really knowing which approach to take, you continue to suck him off, cum dribbling down your chin as you fought to swallow the rest without losing your breath once more. Yeonjun slumps back against the armchair, his hand releasing its hold on your cheeks as he lets it fall to his side.

Carefully pulling off of him, you sit back as you begin wiping your chin with the back of your hand. You steal a glance at him, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. Yeonjun runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head as a small grin etches its way to his lips. — “Was…was it okay?” Your words are barely above a whisper, and he cocks an eyebrow at you, his grin widening.

“Sure it was, nerd.”

You blink up at him, “really?” — He chuckles, tucking himself back into his pants with a small grimace. “Would I have asked you to do it if I had doubts?” He retorts and you bite your lip, no perhaps not you supposed. “You’ll get even better with a bit of practice”, he reassures you, giving your head a light pat before getting up.

He’s reached the door before he turns back to you, “wait another fifteen minutes or so before leaving, yeah?” Without waiting to hear your answer, he unlocks the door and steps out, slamming it shut behind him.

⸝⸝

You spent another thirty minutes aimlessly wandering around the large villa, astonished by how someone could afford a place this big. You still had no clue whose house this even was, and no one seemed to care for the sake either. — Halfway down a long corridor, filled with what you could only assume to be modern art, you suddenly freeze in your tracks as the voices of someone else joins your quiet footsteps.

After spending a rough minute trying to locate the source of the sound, you finally realize that it’s coming from behind one of the larger pillars a few paces ahead. Debating your choices for a solid ten seconds, you opt to try and eavesdrop, if only for a moment. And as you quietly creep forward, their conversation suddenly becomes a lot more clear. — Shuffling to squeeze yourself behind another pillar, you lean against the cool marble as you try and pick up on what’s being said.

You knew the voices belonged to two of the girls from your class, but you were unable to pair them with any faces. — “Did he really?” One of them asks, her voice is slightly high-pitched, almost a bit squeaky. Her friend’s voice is fairly deeper as she replies, “Yes! And it was a week before her birthday too!” A small gasp. “You don’t mean… But with whom?” The first girl asks.

There’s a brief pause, and you, too, find yourself holding your breath as you await the second girl's answer. “With Hera..” You frown, unable to recognize the name but the other girl seemed more than aware as she let out a small shriek, earning a sharp “hush!” from her friend. — “But that’s…” the first girl begins only to be interrupted by her friend, “her best friend.”

Their conversation made little sense in your ears, and with a small sigh you turned to walk the other way when suddenly, a familiar name surfaced. — “But it was kind of obvious was it not”, the girl with the deeper voice begins, “Yeonjun has cheated on Mimi with practically all of her friends. She’s bound to find out some day, it’s only a matter of time.”

You felt your face fall as your heart plummeted through your stomach. Had you heard them right? You hoped you hadn’t but the first girl quickly butts in as she confirms what you dreaded. “I told her from the start that Yeonjun was promiscuous, but she didn’t listen of course”, the girl huffs as her friend hums in agreement. “Better her than me”, she adds.

You had heard enough. That was it, you were going home. Turning on your heel, you quietly dart down the long corridor. — You knew that you didn't have a reason to be upset, hell he had even cheated on his girlfriend with you. It still didn’t stop the tears that pricked in your eyes as you pushed past the crowd in the kitchen. A small part of you had thought, perhaps even hoped that maybe, maybe what he saw in you was different from what he saw in Mimi. God you’re so stupid. You quietly mutter, reaching the open living room just in time to see who you had hoped you wouldn’t.

Near the front door, leaning against the wall, was Yeonjun, arms wrapped around his girlfriend’s frame as she pressed sloppy kisses to his neck. Your mind flashes with the images of what had taken place between the two of you not even an hour ago. Yet here he was, shamelessly buttering his so-called girlfriend up as if he hadn’t had you on his cock moments prior. And to think that you had allowed yourself to become part of his crowd, it was disgusting.

You finally saw Choi Yeonjun for what he really was. A fucking asshole. And with that clarification in mind, you forcefully push past the pair as you march out of the front door, leaving the still lively party behind as you begin your journey home.

⸝⸝

Monday came all too fast. The aftermath of the party is still fresh in your mind as you rummage through your locker. You had spent the whole weekend reanalyzing your every interaction with Yeonjun; from the day you first met to the thirty minutes spent in the guest bedroom just two days ago. You questioned his true intentions, more than twice. But no matter how many hours you tossed and turned in bed, you got no closer to solving the mystery that was Choi Yeonjun.

Slamming the red steel door shut, you almost drop the books in your arm as you come face to face with the person you least wanted to see. — Yeonjun leans against the locker next to yours as he studies your face intently. Quickly you turn around to see if anyone was watching the two of you before shifting your attention back to him. “What are you doing?” You whisper as you watch him with a wary expression.

He only shrugs, a small grin playing on his lips. “See me after class”, he nods in the direction of the stairs, leading to the third floor and you internally sigh. Still, you should talk to him, you really should, so you nod. “Okay.” — His grin widens as Yeonjun pushes himself off the locker, continuing down the hallway without another word.

You find yourself counting down the hours, lesson after lesson, your eyes remain glued to the clock on the wall. In fact, you’re so focused on the afternoon ahead that the insults thrown your way merely passes over your head. — Then finally, after what feels like an eternity, you find yourself walking up the steps and past the doors as you neared room 291.

He was already there, waiting for you. And as soon as the red door closes behind you, he’s got you pressed up against it, hungry lips on yours within a matter of seconds as his hands roam your body. It was easy to get caught up in his world, his kisses and his touches, you have to remind yourself of why you came here. His name falls from your lips, but it’s not the usual desperate whine, it’s serious, you know that he can tell, humming against your lips yet his hands don’t stray away from wandering beneath your shirt.

"Yeonjun, wait."

He stills, if only for a moment, leaning back slightly as his lips brush against yours. Taking in a deep breath, you prepare yourself for the conversation to come. You had rehearsed it many times in your head, but as you glance up at him in the dim light of the storage unit, you find it hard to even look him in the eyes. “I…I’ve been thinking”, you slowly begin, watching the faint smirk that surfaces on his face. “Don’t you always, nerd.” He mutters, his hands resuming their journey up your chest, flicking the buttons to your shirt open as his mouth leaves hot kisses against your neck.

You try to ignore the burning sensation sparking through your body, forcing yourself to go through with what you wanted to say. “Yes but, I’ve been thinking about…about us.” — Your words make his hands around your breasts stutter and he goes quiet against you. Biting your lip, you hold your breath as you wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t, only humming against your skin as he continues to litter you in red marks.

“What makes you think there is an ‘us’?”

His question makes your composure fall as you let out a shaky exhale. “There isn't?" You hesitantly ask, already anticipating the answer you were bound to receive. — He pulls away from you with a perplexed expression. Then he laughs, it’s short, cruel, he shakes his head. “Don’t be funny”, he mutters as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “You know that I have a girlfriend, nerd.” He spits the words out like the venomous bite of a snake. His gaze drops to your unbuttoned blazer, briefly passing the harsh bruises he’d previously left on your chest.

“Don’t think you’re anything else besides a quick fuck.”

Oh. There it was. He finally said it, he finally confirmed what you had been dreading all along. You weren’t stupid, you knew that whatever the two of you had was nothing romantic. But hearing those words come out of his mouth, it hurt more than you ever thought it would’ve. Still, it was just what you needed. With your palms pressed against his chest, you push him back, as far away from you as the small room allowed.

“I don’t think I want to be that.”

Your voice is trembling as you speak and you have to force your gaze not to drop down to your shoes. Letting your hands fall back against your sides, you draw in a small breath, holding it as you watch Yeonjun’s face form into a confused frown. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He huffs, sounding almost angry as his hands clenched into fists before relaxing again.

You bite the inside of your cheek, giving a meek shrug of your shoulders. “I don’t want to be just a… a quick fuck.” You murmur, unable to maintain his intense gaze, you let your eyes drop to the floor. He scoffs, leaning back against the shelves with such force that the items behind him rattled. “Do you honestly believe that anyone else is even going to consider fucking you, nerd?” He was pissed, that much you could tell.

Shaking your head, you blink away the tears that had managed to form in your eyes. “I don’t care, I just…”, you exhale, praying that your voice wouldn’t break as you continued, “I just don’t think this is for me.” — Yeonjun laughs, the same laugh that echoed off the classroom walls as he made fun of you. You realize then just how fucked up your situation had become. How could you have allowed yourself to stoop to such a level?

“I gave you so much, and you… you don’t think that it’s for you?” He jeers, taking a step forward as he comes face to face with you once more. But now none of the previous lust and desire remained, only fury. All you can do is continuously shake your head, not daring to meet his gaze. “No. It’s not.” You state as you tear your eyes from the floor, it takes everything in you to not have your resolve crumbling as you peer up at him.

“So let’s stop.”

You motion toward the small unit you were currently standing in. “Whatever this is, was, let’s end it now.” You swallow, hard, the sound ringing in your ears. Yeonjun runs a hand through his hair once more, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek as his eyes flit between you and the door. “You want to end things? Fine.” His voice lacks all the anger it previously held, now sounding almost monotone.

“But don’t come crying when you realize just how much you’re about to lose.” He drawls, eyes boring into yours one final time before he pushes past you, knocking you back against the wall as he rips the door open. Darkness envelops you as soon as it's slammed shut behind him, and you finally let out the sob you had been holding in.

⸝⸝

You didn’t go to school that following Tuesday, nor Wednesday. It was the first time you had missed a whole day since your junior year in highschool. Was it pathetic? Probably. Curled up on your bed, you spent the two days in front of your laptop, binging whatever show seemed appealing as you sniffled into a tissue. — You wanted to go back in time, back to when you only knew Yeonjun as the obnoxious leader of bullies from your class, back to when things were simple.

You wondered what he might’ve said about you in your absence. What kind of lies he might’ve conducted, surely he wouldn’t just sit still. You dreaded returning, but you knew that it was inevitable, and as Thursday rolled around, you pulled yourself from bed.

The classroom was empty when you arrived, there was another thirty minutes left but you had chosen to get there earlier to save yourself perhaps at least a few stares as you walked toward your desk. You had missed a lot, you were sure, two days was a long time to be away from school and you worried that you would have a lot of reading to do when you came back home. Though you supposed the distraction of studying would be nice.

It’s about ten minutes left until class when the first few students emerged from the doors, swinging their bags down on their desks as they chatted loudly with one another. “Watch it nerd!” A girl sneers as she gives the leg of your chair a harsh kick, you grip onto the edge of your table as you hang your head low. But beside that, nothing happens, and you frown. You were sure it was going to be worse than this, but it wasn’t. For the first time ever you felt relieved that your classmates were treating you indifferent. Well, all except one.

Yeonjun doesn’t show up to first period. And just as you think he’s about to be absent for the second one as well, the door is pushed open as he walks inside. Yeonjun seldom did what he was supposed to in class, but he always brought his bag, not today though. You tried to not let your eyes linger, inevitably failing as you watched him pull out his chair and sit down, his hands remaining in his pockets as he leaned back to gaze across the board with a lazy expression. In regular fashion, Beomgyu goes off about a random topic next to him as Soobin twirls a pen between his fingers, seemingly bored out of his mind.

Class begins, and ends, and nothing happens. Not even as much as a glare in your direction. It was just like before, before the two of you were ever intimate, Yeonjun acted as if you didn’t exist, and you watched him. But this time, you didn’t feel a sense of longing, honestly, you didn’t know what you felt. Relief, a sense of mourning, regret? You didn’t like the way your stomach felt when you looked at him, so you stopped.

⸝⸝

Weeks went by, the bullying never stopped, why would it? You kept quiet, your gaze downcast as you moved through the hallways. It worked, because you rarely saw him anymore. You didn’t know if he was avoiding you or not, you didn’t care. It felt nice to not care. The only thing tugging away at you now… was the loneliness. It wasn’t like Yeonjun acted friendly with you, especially not during school hours, but he had made you feel less alone. In the most fucked up way possible, he was the only one you had ever had some kind of relationship with since your first day here. And a small part of you missed it.

But even the loneliness would one day stop.

You blink up as a plate is placed opposite yours in the crowded cafeteria. Confused, your eyes darted between the boy before of you and the plenty of empty tables. He doesn’t seem to care as he slides down on the chair in front of yours. “You’re the junior girl who takes classes with the seniors right?” He asks as he tilts his head to the side, studying you with wide and curious eyes. — Still wary of the intentions behind his move to sit with you, you slowly nod, “I am.”

He smiles, it was perhaps one of the first genuine smiles you had received since you started here. Shuffling a bit closer, he offers his hand for you to shake, which you hesitantly do. “I’m Hueningkai, but you can just call me Kai.” He says as you let go of his hand once more. — “I’m a junior too, but I’m stuck with everyone else our age”, he explains with a coy smile.

You nod, taking a small sip of your water. His eyes shift to the book placed next to your tray. “Lord Of The Rings?” He asks and you hum as you turn it around for him to see. “I love those books!” He exclaims as he brings it to his face, studying the back intently. “I’m re-reading them..” You quietly mumble as your gaze flickers between him and the glass in your hand. Kai sets the book down as he turns to you, “you mean you’ve read all this more than once? Sick!”

That was how you met Kai. You don’t know why he approached you, you didn’t care to ask. All you knew was that you had finally found a friend. And though the two of you still took separate classes, you always stayed behind to study together, ate lunch just the two of you, and walked each other to class. It felt nice to have someone to talk to, even though you didn’t tell him about you and Yeonjun, he still listened to you as you explained all of the bullying.

You were amongst the last to return to class after lunch one lousy Tuesday. Kai and you had spent the entire break discussing quantum physics, and you had only realized the time once you went to search something up on your phone, making you rush to class. Not thinking much of the rare occurrence, you make your way over to your desk by the very back of the room, only freezing when one of your classmates addresses you.

“What’s got you coming in so late, nerd?” He sneers as he leans back in his chair to see you better. With the intention of not replying, you take your seat as you begin rummaging through your stuffed bag. But when another girl butts in, you feel yourself go stiff. “Don’t you know?” She drawls, easily garnering the first guy’s attention as well as everyone around her. Even the Choi’s seemed to be listening as Beomgyu put down his phone. You held your breath, anticipating the worst yet it somehow ended up being so far from anything you could’ve ever imagined.

“Nerd’s got a boyfriend.” She exclaims, watching triumphantly as everyone began whispering amongst each other, hushed murmurs carrying around the room. You felt your face burn as you glanced toward Yeonjun’s table. — He was still scrolling absentmindedly on his phone, but the way his jaw clenched, accompanied with the small frown of his brows, made your stomach sink just slightly.

“That’s such bullshit!” Mimi exclaims as she throws you a harsh glare. But the girl who’d announced the news merely shakes her head. “I’ve seen them myself!” She retorts as she folds her arms across her chest. “That junior boy, y’know the blonde one.” — “I’ve seen them too!” Someone else chirps in and the girl is quick to nod.

“They always eat lunch together too”, the girl turns to you with a wide smirk, “isn’t that right nerd?” — Your fingers curled around the pencil in your hand, gripping it with such force that it might break. You don’t look at her, gaze dropping to your table as you merely shook your head, earning a scoff from the girl as she turned back to the rest of the class.

“Shit, are you serious?” Beomgyu wonders as he leans forward in his chair. But before the girl has a chance to reply, Yeonjun cuts her off. “Don’t be stupid”, he mutters as he pulls Beomgyu back by the collar of his shirt. — “What the fuck man, it’s just a question”, he whines as he rubs his now sore neck. Yeonjun huffs as his gaze remains glued to his phone screen, “of course she isn’t serious. Stop believing her bullshit.”

Beomgyu falls silent at his words and so does everyone else. The next few minutes are awkward as everyone scrambles to occupy themselves with whatever they could find, desperately wishing for your professor to walk through the doors.

⸝⸝

The sound of the old library doors being pushed open shifts your focus from the book in your lap as you glance up just in time to see Kai approaching your desk. He smiles, waving his hand enthusiastically and you find yourself reciprocating the small move. — “Sorry I’m late”, he apologizes as he takes the seat next to yours, pulling a few books from his bag. “It’s fine, really”, you assure him as you place your own book down.

It had become routine for the two of you to meet up and study together, well, you often just talked the hours away, but neither of you seemed to mind the lack of work getting done. “Which chapter are you on?” He wonders, and you slide the book over for the two of you to share, “fifteen.” He nods as he scoots closer, your shoulders practically touching as you take turns reading and scribbling down notes.

Usually you didn’t mind the close proximity, but when thinking back of what had transpired after lunch earlier that day, you felt different. Ever since your break up with Yeonjun, if break up was even what you could call it, you had little desire to enter into a new relationship. But the more you mulled over your classmate’s words, the more sense it all seemed to make. — Eating lunch together, walking each other to class, even now, you both sat so close that you could hear the pattern of his breathing.

Kai was cute. He was the type of cute that made you look back twice when you passed him on the street, the type of cute that made you want to revisit the small café because of the waiter that had served you, the type of cute that you wanted to bring home to your parents. — Not only was he cute, he was nice too, you felt happy, comforted, in his presence. Unlike Yeonjun, Kai only made you feel giddy inside as you longed to see him. He never made you second guess his intentions or yourself.

But there was still something missing, something that you couldn’t quite place. Something that Yeonjun had made you feel by just stepping into the same room as you. You hated yourself for comparing your new friend to someone like him, but it felt almost impossible not to. You didn’t care about Choi Yeonjun anymore, so why did he continue to haunt the subconscious parts of your mind?

As if on cue, Kai turns around in his seat, his nose almost grazing your own due to how close you sat. “Hey are you following along?” He wonders, seemingly concerned as a small frown tugs at his brows. Blinking, you shake your head, “sorry no..” — You swallow, willing yourself to be honest with him, you need to be.

“Can I…can I tell you something?” You hesitantly ask, gnawing on your bottom lip as you twirl your pencil anxiously between your fingers. He nods, a small smile painting his lips, “of course!” — Awkwardly clearing your throat, you think of a way to begin the whole thing. “W-Well basically…Everyone in my class they-”

Your words get stuck in your throat, not because you were afraid of uttering them, not because Kai made you in any way feel uneasy. But because the oak doors to the library opened once more, the sound almost deafening to your ears, eyes becoming glued to Yeonjun’s frame as he enters. It doesn’t take him long to spot you, his already spiteful expression seemingly worsening as his gaze locks with yours.

He grasps a book tightly in one hand, walking over to the front desk as he practically slams it on the table, making everyone inside the room jump as their heads turn in his direction. Yeonjun however, pays them little mind, his eyes never straying from yours as the old librarian goes to check out his book. — Even Kai’s attention had shifted toward your classmate, watching as Yeonjun leaned against the desk with a scowl on his face.

“Isn’t he in your class?” He wonders as the frown on his face deepens. You nod, “ignore him”, you mumble as you shift uncomfortably under his intense gaze. “But he’s looking at you..” Kai states and you shake your head again, “please let’s just ignore him.” — Finally, Kai tears his gaze from him as he gives you a small nod, “of course. So what’d you want to tell me?”

Oh right. “Well I… It’s a bit weird, promise you won’t be freaked out.” You begin as you bite your lip, feeling an evident blush rise on your cheeks. Kai nods as he takes your hand, the small action somehow making the whole thing even worse but you couldn’t find it in you to push him off. From the corner of your eye, you can make out Yeonjun’s figure as he watches the two of you, his mere presence made the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

“My classmates they…they sort of think we’re…well they think we’re dating..” You quietly mumble, the last part becoming nothing more but a faint whisper. You can easily read his surprise as Kai’s eyes widen, his gaze flitting down to his hand on top of yours as he swallows. “Oh.” Is all he says. — “I hope it doesn’t make things weird between us”, you quickly add, your voice near pleading as you search his gaze.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Kai slowly nods as he keeps his eyes on your hands. “No I suppose it doesn’t… I mean, it’s not like it’s true..” He says, offering you a small smile as his gaze returns to your face. You nod, “y-yeah, exactly..” — Daring to steal a glance in the direction of Yeonjun, you barely manage to catch his retreating figure as he exits the library, oak doors slamming shut behind him.

Kai follows your gaze, his hand on top of yours moving back to rest on his lap as his eyes flicker between the spot where Yeonjun just vanished and your almost longing expression. He sighs.

⸝⸝

It’s nearing 6pm when you finally part ways outside the library. And after waving Kai off, you turn to walk up the flight of stairs leading to your locker. The hallways are vacant, your low heel shoes clacking against its floors as you readjust your heavy bag on your shoulder. — Your footsteps come to an abrupt halt about halfway down the long corridor, your eyes spotting a tall figure, leaning against the red lockers by the end of the hall. You swallow, easily recognizing his lean frame. It’s too late to turn back, you know that he’s heard you already.

“Have you been waiting here all along?” You wonder, stopping a few paces from him, maintaining a good distance as you shift your weight over to one leg. Yeonjun’s head, previously leaning against the red steel behind him, lazily turns in your direction as he studies you with a tired expression. “No.” — You knew it was a lie.

“Then why are you here?” For once, it’s your gaze boring into his, and not the other way around. Yeonjun remains silent, his hands digging deep into the pockets of his pants, his eyes roaming your body just like they had so many times before. He doesn’t say anything. You wait for him to speak, you wait for two whole minutes. Nothing.

With a small huff, you give up as you approach your locker. Now only inches from him, you type your code in as the red door clicks open. Pulling your books from your bag, he watches you as you place them neatly inside the small space. You bite your tongue, refraining from saying the many things on your mind. It would only complicate the situation further. — It’s not until you close the locker again, turning around as you get ready to leave, that he finally breaks the silence.

“Is it true?”

You freeze, slowly turning back to face him with a small frown. Still leaning against the lockers, he tilts his head to the side, his expression holds no amusement, not even anger, just…emptiness. You had never seen him like that before. — “What?” The surprise is evident in your voice, and you watch as he pushes himself off the lockers, moving to face you completely. “You and him, is it true?” He repeats his question and your breath gets stuck in your throat at the mention of Kai.

You didn’t want him to become the next affection of Yeonjun’s harsh bullying. More than anything, you wanted to maintain the only friendship you had, you could not have your past mistakes getting in the way of it. — “Does it matter?” Your stance remains guarded as you fold your arms across your chest. He cocks an eyebrow in your direction, his lip twitching, “of course not.”

Confused, you frown, you had forgotten how near impossible he was to read. “Well then there you have your answer.” You firmly state. He shakes his head, and you could’ve sworn you caught the small grin on his face before it vanished again. “So then it is true..” — “Yes.” The small word of confirmation slips from your lips without you even realizing it. But it was too late to take it back now. Yeonjun frowns, he seems almost surprised at your immediate response.

“It’s true that we hang out everyday. It’s true that he makes me smile, and laugh. It’s true that he cares for me and I for him. All of it is true, is that what you wanted to hear?” You’re almost out of breath by the end of your small rant. — Yeonjun’s jaw clenches, hands curling into fists inside his pockets as he draws in a sharp breath through his nose.

“So does it really matter if it’s true or not when he treats me in a way that makes me feel loved and appreciated?” You’re unable to hinder yourself from letting out all the emotions that you had kept pent up during the past weeks. And by the end, your voice sounds as if it’s about to break at any moment. — But he doesn’t say anything. His expression remained as indifferent as possible, watching the way your chest heaved as you caught your breath again.

His silence felt heavier than a thousand words. Part of you wants to swallow your statement again, another part is relieved to finally have gotten it out. You quickly realized that you probably wouldn’t get another response from him, and thus you made your second move to leave. Except this time, he acts faster.

Fingers wrapping around your wrist, Yeonjun prevents you from taking another step away from him. His grip is tight, but not enough to hurt, you can feel the slight tremble to his hand and your gaze dart between his hold on you to his now determined expression.

“I could too.”

His voice is low, yet the sentence echoes off the empty hallway walls. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, blood rushing beneath your skin as your wide eyes meet his. — “I could make you feel like that too.” His voice is clearer now, steadier, and he takes a step forward. You find yourself shaking your head, making him frown. “Why, don’t you believe me?”

The question made you scoff. “Of course I don’t.” You exclaim as you withdraw your arm from his grip, he lets you, briefly glancing down to his now empty hand before letting it fall to his side. “You’ve said it yourself. I’m nothing besides a quick fuck, right?” — He bites the inside of his cheek, your words undoubtedly true.

Maybe three weeks ago, his small statement would’ve been able to sway you, to make your heart beat a little faster. Now it only felt like he was rubbing salt onto your barely healed wounds. Just as you had gotten over him, just as you had finally made a real friend, he had to go and ruin it all again by saying exactly what you both dreaded and longed to hear from him. And you hated him for it. You hated Choi Yeonjun.

Tears stung in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks. You couldn’t let him see you cry. — He grabs onto you a second time as you turn to leave, pulling you flush against his chest with such haste that you barely have time to register what’s happening before his lips are on yours. “Don’t go”, he breathes into your mouth, kissing you with such urgency that you thought he might just be on the verge of dying.

Your hands are on his chest within seconds as you pry him off. “Stop. Just stop.” Your pleading voice cuts like knives through the air and he pulls back with a stunned expression. Shaking your head, you tear yourself from him as you take a step back. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. But it better stop.” He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. “Don’t let me get my hopes up only to crush them again.”

Refusing to hear him out any longer, you quickly turn on your heel as you hurriedly walk down the hallway, leaving him behind as he runs a hand through his dark hair.

⸝⸝

The next day, Yeonjun doesn’t show up to school. You’re just as confused as everyone else, your eyes darting toward the door every other second, thinking that it might be him, but it never is. — “Is he sick?” Someone asks but Beomgyu only shakes his head, leaning back in his chair with a small huff, “beats me.” Ah, so he didn’t know either. Gnawing on your bottom lip, you’re suddenly filled with worry, was it because of what happened yesterday? Was he actually hurt by it? No, surely not, it was Choi Yeonjun after all.

It’s not until the doors bursts open once more, revealing a disheveled Mimi, that realization slowly starts to set in. Her usually put together face is in ruins as makeup has been smeared across her cheeks. Heads turn in her direction as one of her friends guides her over to her desk. — “What happened?” A guy asks only to be hushed by her friend, quietly mouthing out the words: “he broke up with her.”

Everyone seems to fall silent after that, allowing Mimi’s quiet sobs to fill the room as you wait for class to start. — He broke up with her… You blink, glancing down to the empty page in your notebook as you swallow. Did that also have anything to do with what happened yesterday? Once again you’re left feeling guilty, Yeonjun always seemed to make you feel that way.

When your professor finally arrives, the lecture moves slowly, agonizingly so. And for once, you didn’t find any joy in your studies. Sure it might also have something to do with the persistent feeling of being watched. — Turning your head ever so slightly to the right, you find Soobin’s eyes locked on your unnerved frame. Not even when he knows that you’ve caught him does he turn away.

He continues to watch you throughout the day. Wherever you went, he seemed to be there too. Eyes boring into you at all times, an indifferent expression on his face. He knew something, that much you were sure of.

⸝⸝

Finally, as your last lesson comes to an end, you manage to slip past Soobin’s prying gaze as you hurried down the stairs to meet Kai. The two of you had begun accompanying each other on the way home as you both took the bus from the same station. — You find him waiting by the entrance, a large smile plastered across his face and as soon as your eyes fell on him, all worries were washed away.

“How was class?” He asks as you walk down the courtyard. You shrug, swinging your bag in front of you cheerily, “nothing out of the ordinary.” — “No mean comments, no nothing?” He wonders and you bite the inside of your cheek, “no…actually not.” After the news of Mimi’s breakup, everyone had fallen into this sort of trance where no one seemed to want to bring attention to themselves. Thus you had been left alone all day, which felt both nice and incredibly weird.

Kai hums, the two of you were walking so close that your arms brushed together, but you didn’t mind. Once you reach the large gates leading out onto the streets however, you freeze. Stopping a pace in front of you, Kai turns to you with a small frown, “something wrong?” — You shake your head, “no…I just.. think I left a book behind, you go ahead.”

He opens his mouth, as if to object but you quickly interrupt him, “it’s fine! I wouldn’t want you to miss your bus”, you reassure him as you offer a small smile. “Then what about you?” He wonders but you just wave it off in a disregarding manner, “I’ll take the next one, don’t worry about me.” He doesn’t seem entirely convinced but the small hug you give him makes him nod. “Alright, text me when you get home”, he says and you quickly agree as you send him off.

You watch him disappear down the pavement with a small sigh. Not until he’s completely out of sight do you turn to cross the street. You walk with long and determined strides, not stopping until you reach the large tree by the sidewalk. — Yeonjun isn’t wearing his usual school uniform, instead he’s dressed in a dark pair of jeans, a black jacket wrapped around his torso to prevent the chilly December air from getting to him. He leans against the naked tree trunk, his gaze flickering from the concrete beneath him and over to you as you approach.

Feet planting in front of his, you cross your arms as you peer up at him with an expectant look on your face. He doesn’t say anything, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. Unable to bear the silence, you break it. “You didn’t come to school today.” You don’t know why you stated the obvious, perhaps you wanted him to explain himself, but he doesn’t, only nodding silently.

Frustrated, you run a hand through your hair. He wanted to talk to you, right? That’s why he was waiting across the street from your college, openly risking being spotted by your classmates. So why wasn’t he saying anything? — Huffing out a short breath, you part your lips to say something, but he’s quicker than you.

“I broke up with her”, he calmly states. His posture remains relaxed as he speaks but his eyes search yours with something akin to desperation. — “I know.” You mumble, biting the inside of your lip before continuing, “she was crying all day, did you know that?” He scoffs, “so?” His nonchalant approach made you frown, “so? Don’t you care?” Your question is met by the mere shake of his head as he shrugs, “no, do you?”

“I do.”

He hadn’t expected your answer, you could tell by the way his face dropped, if only for a moment. “Why? It’s not exactly like she’s a good person.” He jeers, shoving his hands deeper into the denim pockets of his jeans. “And you are?” Even though your voice remains steady, there’s a linger of hurt between your quiet words. — He goes silent in front of you as his gaze flits between yours and the entrance behind him.

“Why are you even here, Yeonjun?” Your tone is near accusing and he looks almost guilty as his attention shifts back to you. He swallows, rubbing a hand along his neck, as if stalling for time. You bite your tongue, waiting patiently for him to speak. — “Why do you like him?”, he finally asks. It hardly took a genius to guess who he was referring to.

You sigh, observing the way the naked branches of the tree moved against the mild breeze. “I told you, didn’t I?” You drawl, readjusting the bag swung over your shoulder. The corner of his mouth twitches as Yeonjun shakes his head, “that’s not what I wanted to hear.” — “And you think you’re in a position to make demands like that?” You snort, watching as he pushes himself off the tree before taking a step in your direction.

Leaning back to glance up at him, you try your best to hold your ground as he tilts his head to the side, cocking a questioning eyebrow at you. “Then tell me what I need to do.” — Your mouth falls open as you gawk at him, what was he implying? Taking a step back only ends up with him taking yet another forward, his hands coming up from his pockets to rest on your shoulders.

“Tell me how to be like him.”

Slowly you realize just what he was asking of you. Immediately shaking your head, you take yet another step back. “It doesn’t work like that.” You quietly murmur, averting your gaze to avoid looking him in the eyes. He frowns, a confused frown, “sure it does”, he says, sounding almost hopeful as he grips your shoulders tighter. “Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.”

Did he honestly think that everything could be undone just like that? The pain, the tears, the bullying, that he could take it all back just because he wanted to? Just because he had a change of heart? The thought was almost as ridiculous as his proposal. — This was Choi Yeonjun, he wasn’t about to change his ways just because of you, you should know that. Whatever this was, this moment of confusion, it wouldn’t last, and you had to pull out before you got hurt, again.

“I don’t know what you want from me…” You bite back the harsh insults waiting on your tongue, shaking your head once more. “I don’t know what it is, and I don’t care. Please just stop confusing me”, you almost beg as you try to pry his hands off of you. — Yeonjun looks perplexed as he lets you push him off. “Confusing you? I don’t–”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You retort, your voice growing in intensity as you failed to hold back the anger and resentment you held for him. “I let you screw me over, I let you use me, humiliate me, I put up with all of it, because…” You exhale, taking a step forward as you point an accusing finger to his chest. “Because at one point I thought that I liked you, but I don’t. I know exactly what you are and I know that you won’t change.”

He frowns, his fingers wrapping around your wrist on his chest. “You don’t know the first thing about m-” — “I do.” You cut him off, aware of the way his jaw clenches as his grip on your wrist tightens. “I know that you cheat, you lie, you use people as you please, and worst of all, you don’t even feel guilty about it.”

You tear yourself from his grasp, stumbling backward as you cradle your sore wrist. “I know far from everything about you”, you state, watching him bite the inside of his cheek as he fights off the remark he so desperately wished to fire. — “But I know that I hate you. And that’s enough reason for me to stay as far away from you as possible.”

“So please, leave me the fuck alone.”

As soon as you turn around to dart down the street, the tears spill from your eyes as you sob into your open palm. More than anything, you regret ever becoming infatuated with him.

⸝⸝

Yeonjun didn’t come to school the following day either, nor the day after that. People stopped asking about him, only becoming disregarded by both Beomgyu and Soobin as the two kept to themselves. Yet the taller’s persistent stares remained as Soobin watched your every move, like a hawk stalking its prey. Even now, as you sat by your usual table, listening to Kai as he rambled on about a random topic, did you feel his gaze on you.

“D-Did you hear me?”

Kai’s hesitant voice snaps you from your trance as your eyes shift to his fidgety frame. Nervously twisting the hem of his uniform, he gives you a sheepish smile. You blink, “I…s–sorry what did you say?” You wonder, feeling a bit embarrassed by your lack of engagement as he spoke. But Kai only shakes his head, the tips of his ears turning pink as he clears his throat. “I was wondering if… if you would maybe want to study this weekend a-at my place?”

You could tell that it had taken almost all his courage to ask the simple question. But somehow you find yourself comparing it to how easy such demands had fallen from Yeonjun’s lips as he shamelessly took whatever he wanted. Internally you curse yourself for letting your mind so comfortably shift to the subject of Yeonjun when you had tried so hard to forget about him.

“Sure I would love to!” You smile, heart swelling at the endearing sight before you as Kai’s face practically explodes in an ocean of red. “R-Really?” He asks and you nod, “of course!” — You’re about to ask him what time would be suitable when suddenly a large shadow is casted over your table. Squinting up your eyes lock with none other than Choi Soobin as he peers down at you with a vacant expression.

“I need to talk to you.” He states in a monotone voice, jutting his chin toward the large entryway of the cafeteria. Your gaze flits between him and Kai as your friend shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “O-Okay”, you quietly mumble, giving Kai an apologetic look as you get up to trail after Soobin’s tall frame.

He walks fast, and you almost have to jog in order to keep up. Pushing past the crowded hallways, Soobin doesn’t seem to mind the multiple glances shot his way. The two of you walk for a good five minutes without stopping, and just as you’re about to ask where you’re going, he comes to an abrupt halt, making you almost facepalm against his back.

With the light kick of his foot, the door to a vacant classroom swings open and he steps inside, seemingly waiting for you to do the same. — Once the door is shut behind you, he turns to lean against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. Nervously, you tug at the collar of your blazer as you glance around the dark room.

You don’t think you had been alone with Soobin, ever. Nor did you think that you had ever heard him utter more than two words out loud. And he had never directed a single one to you. So to say that your current situation was surprising, would be a grave understatement. — You think a whole minute must have passed when he finally speaks. But the words coming out of his mouth made you wish for everything to be silent again.

“What’s your deal with Yeonjun?”

His voice is low, barely above a murmur, and deep too. Not at all like his snarky friends whose laughs would echo off the hallways. You swallow, hard, the sound is audible in the otherwise quiet room. Unlike Beomgyu, Soobin never once picked on you, nor did he join in when the others were laughing, at best or worst, he would give a small grin. — If it were Beomgyu you would at least expect him to be mad in a situation like this, but Soobin remains eerily calm as he watches you from a distance, just like he had these past three days.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business”, you stand your ground, despite the fact that it felt as if the floor was literally shaking beneath you. He chuckles, it’s breathy, almost inaudible. “You don’t need to act so prideful, he’s told me everything about you.” — It feels as if all air has been knocked out of your lungs. So he did know something.

“Everything?” You exhale, your breath near trembling. He gives a curt nod, “everything, except for why he isn’t here today”, he mutters, seemingly displeased with the fact. — A small frown etches its way to your face, lips parting in confusion. “I know you’ve got something to do with it.” He states, tilting his head back as he gazes up toward the ceiling. “But he won’t tell me what.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance down to the floor, the uneven wood planks suddenly seeming very intriguing. “I couldn’t possibly know why he–” — “Don’t bullshit me.” He snaps, his eyes flickering back to you within milliseconds. Your breath gets caught in your throat as you flinch, taking a small step back before your thighs hit the table behind you. Soobin ignores your skittish reactions as he continues. “I don’t know what he’s getting at, going for someone like you.” He says it with such distaste that it makes your skin crawl.

Before you know it, he takes a step forward, then another one, and another one, until he’s got you caged against the desk. He doesn't say anything, one of his hands reaching into his pocket as he rummages through it. Pulling up a folded piece of paper, he shoves it into your open palm. “He asked me to give you this.” — He brushes his hand against his jeans as he takes a step back.

“Fix whatever you caused.” Is all he says before turning on his heel to leave again. Upon yanking the door open, he’s met with Kai’s alarmed frame as he jumps to the side. Sparing him a mere side glance, Soobin shoves past him as he takes off down the hallway. — You shove the small paper in the pocket of your blazer as you walk over to your friend with a sheepish smile. “Hey how long have you been standing-”

“You and Yeonjun?” He asks, almost baffled as he eyes you, full of distrust. The smile immediately vanishes from your face and your throat suddenly goes dry. “W-What?” You ask, still not registering his question fully, hoping that maybe you had heard him wrong. Kai shakes his head, his jaw momentarily clenching. “Just how much exactly did you hear?” You quietly whisper.

He gives you a small shrug, “enough.” — He sighs, looking almost defeated as he runs a hand through his blond hair. “I thought you…I mean the two of you, I never thought…” Frowning, he gives up with a small huff and you bite your lip, reaching out a hesitant hand to place on his shoulder, but he only jerks away from your touch.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounds hurt, you can tell he is. The guilt was slowly seeping back into your veins, Yeonjun always made you feel guilty, but this time…this time it was your own doing. “I’m sorry.” The apology is genuine, you hope he can tell. Because you really are sorry, sorry for not being honest with your only friend.

Kai looks at you, his eyes hold so much pain that you wondered just how deep your lie had stung. “Do you like him?” He asks, his voice sounds strained, as if he was holding back tears. The question catches you off guard and you blink. Did you like him? No, of course not. You hated him. You hated Choi Yeonjun.

“No, nevermind, don’t answer.” He shakes his head, “I don’t care.” — You fumble for words, wanting to say anything that would comfort him. It felt almost impossible. “I- I’m sorry I should’ve told you I–” — “Yeah you should’ve.” He bites back, his unusually harsh tone making you wince. “You should’ve told me a long time ago. Before I..” He cuts himself off, biting his cheek as his gaze drops to the floor.

“Before what?” You quietly wonder, noting the way his shoulders slumped as he exhaled a shaky breath. “Before I liked you.” His voice is merely above a whisper, his attention strained to the floor as he refused to look you in the eyes. Your mouth falls open, it wasn’t like you were completely unaware. Kai’s lingering touches and stares didn’t go unnoticed but you had never imagined that his feelings ran this deep.

“You like me?”

He scoffs, dragging his feet leisurely in front of him. “I thought that was obvious.” He pauses, his gaze briefly meeting yours before fleeting down again, but it was just enough for you to catch the shiny layer of tears coating his lashes. You swallow, it felt almost as if you were about to throw up, the guilt slowly eating away at you.

All you could do was stare at him with a stunned expression, not knowing what you could possibly say to mend the situation. Kai draws in a sharp breath before he wipes his face with the back of his hand. “It’s alright”, he mumbles, “it’s not your fault.” — Your heart might as well just have been ripped out and stepped on at this point. Why was he being so kind to you, when you so obviously didn’t deserve it.

“We’re friends still…aren’t we?” He wonders, looking up from the floor with bloodshot eyes. “T-This doesn’t change anything, right?” — You wanted to tell him that this changed everything, that things might never be the same again. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t hurt him like that. So you shake your head, wrapping your arms around him as you hug him tight. “Of course not, Kai.”

You wondered if things had turned out differently between the two of you, had you never gotten involved with Yeonjun.

⸝⸝

It’s early, earlier than you’d like to admit as you leave your apartment that Sunday morning. The sun has yet to rise and the city is still asleep, but you haven't been able to shut your eyes and relax for the past three days. No, you had waited, dreaded, for this day to come. — The bus is almost empty, save for another young woman, but she looks far more comfortable than you as she rests her head against the window.

The air is cold as you step off, and you hug your coat tighter around your body. You walk for about ten minutes before a large building comes into view. Pulling the small note from your pocket, you glance between the address scribbled down and the number on the building in front of you, they perfectly align. — The note, the one Soobin had so hastily shoved in your hand three days ago, the note you had reread at least a hundred times throughout the weekend. An address, a day, but not a time. — Perhaps you were a bit early, but as you trudged up the stairs, you no longer cared. You had waited for three whole days, you’d had enough.

You take the stairs instead of the elevator. To get some exercise in, you tell yourself. But there was no mistaking the fact that you wanted to prolong the moment for as long as possible, despite your urgency to get here. — Finally, you reach the fifth floor, out of breath, you lean against the wall as you take a moment to gather yourself.

The first time you read the note you had considered not showing up at all. It was a cowardly move to send his friend in his place. But at the same time, your mind longed for answers, answers that you would hopefully get today. — You bring the paper to your face, rereading it one final time. The address, the day, and the small sentence, at the very bottom.

“Let’s talk, please.”

Fine, if he wanted to talk, then you would talk. Your fingers curl into a fist, lightly tapping the dark wood. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve been mindful of the still early hour. But right now your mind was set on one thing alone. — Your heart beats obnoxiously loud in your chest, the wait seemingly eternal.

Then the door creaks open. And as soon as your eyes fall on him, you can tell that he’s had trouble sleeping too. The bags under his eyes were a most unusual look, his hair too, laid messily sprawled on top of his head. He’s still dressed, almost as if he hadn’t gone to bed at all. — “Hi”, his voice is low, raspy, like he hadn’t spoken in days. You give him a small nod of acknowledgement and he steps aside as he lets you in.

Yeonjun’s apartment is clean, minimalistically furnished. It wasn’t like you had ever tried to imagine what his home would look like, but this somehow felt just like him. Your gaze trails across the few paintings on the walls, you can tell that he hadn’t picked them himself, most likely they came with the flat. The white couch, situated by the large windows, catches your eye.

Upon walking over and taking a seat, you find that Yeonjun does the same, maintaining a respectable distance as he glances down towards his hands. For a moment, everything is quiet. Part of you wished to stay like this forever. But that was of course impossible. — He clears his throat, shifting awkwardly on the sofa. “Do you want something to drink?” You bite your lip before nodding, “water’s fine.”

He gets up, walking over to the joint kitchen as he turns on the faucet. You can hear him grabbing glasses, filling them to the brim before returning to place one in front of you on the marbled coffee table. Quietly thanking him, you take the glass, bringing it to your lips as you take a sip. You wait for him to speak first, he was after all, the one who had reached out.

Yeonjun looked very different like this. In the comforts of his own home he resembled little of the person you had grown accustomed to in school. You wondered if he often brought people over, judging by how awkward he was acting, you supposed not. — He draws in a sharp breath, his gaze remaining downcast as he speaks.

“You got my note..” He mumbles as you set your glass down. “I did”, you state, leaning back against the soft cushion as you turn your head in his direction. “Why didn’t you give it to me yourself?” You frown, feeling rather hurt by his choice of using his friend, his friend who definitely didn’t seem to like you. Yeonjun is silent, he’s silent for a good while, fingers intertwined with one another as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“I was scared.” He quietly admits and your eyes widen at the confession. “Y-You were?” You can’t shield the surprise in your voice, Choi Yeonjun, scared? He scoffs, and for a moment, his usual self emerges as his face turns into a small scowl, but the way his eyes flicker as he speaks gives him away. “Of course I fucking was, I still am.”

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer straight away, as if considering his next words with great care. Running a hand through his disheveled hair, he lets out a small almost inaudible exhale. “Because I’m scared that I’ve fucked things up so bad this time… That there’s no going back.” — You uncomfortably shift on the couch as you distract yourself by taking another sip of your water. Yeonjun’s body is taut as his jaw clenches, refusing to even glance in your direction he keeps his gaze steadily fixed on the window in front of him as the darkness outside slowly shifts into a deep blue.

“I want…” He slowly begins, his sentence falling short as he takes another couple of breaths. “I want to apologize.” You blink, your eyes shifting from the water in your glass and over to him, you don’t think you had ever heard him speak with such sincerity. — And for the first time since your arrival, he looks at you. He swallows, adam's apple bobbing as he does.

“I’m sorry.”

When you don’t say anything he hastily continues. “I know that it doesn’t fix shit, but I…I still need to say it. And if I could I would go back and undo all the pain I caused you, I really would. I don’t expect you to forgive me, quite frankly I don’t even expect you to ever talk to me again, I suppose that’s fair. But if I don’t tell you how sorry I am now, I’m afraid that I never will.” He takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it go again, his shoulders slumping, almost like a deflating balloon.

“So, I’m sorry…for everything.”

He holds his tongue after that, gaze dropping down to his fingers once more. You don’t know how to feel, much less what to say. It was all so surreal. Hearing those words come out of his mouth felt almost like a fever dream and you wondered if you had perhaps managed to fall asleep after all and that this was just a fragment of your imagination, the universe pulling a sick prank on you.

But then you turn to look at him. He’s nothing like the Yeonjun who had hurt you for so many weeks. Right now he looks small as he sits on the couch, biting the inside of his lip as he nervously rolls his thumbs together. In the end you realize that no matter how you feel, there’s only one thing you can say to him.

“I forgive you.”

He freezes, teeth letting go of his lip as he slowly lifts his head to peer over at you. An almost puzzled look paints his otherwise tired face, “you do?” He sounds almost disbelieving as he studies you with a wary expression. — You slowly nod, watching as his eyes widen with recognition, he swallows. Then everything becomes silent once more. This time it’s a different kind of silence, it’s not comfortable but the air somehow feels lighter, if only a little.

You find yourself staring out the large windows. The sky had turned a deep orange now, shades of pink seeping through the cracks formed by the clouds. The darkness slowly makes way for the light as a new day rises before you. — You want to say something, now feels like a good moment to get things off your chest. But you can’t seem to find the words, your throat feels thick and it becomes hard to swallow.

“Please like me instead.”

At first you thought that you had imagined it. The faint whisper of his lips. But when he shuffles next to you on the couch, turning to face you fully, there’s no doubt about it. You tear your gaze from the warm sky as you glance over at him. In the morning light, Yeonjun looked like he was glowing. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, his dry lips, or even his unkempt hair; he looked truly beautiful.

“What?”

Your voice is soft, a low murmur, unsure and hesitant. He scoots closer, your knees touching as he places his hands on the cushion either side of him. “Like me instead. Instead of him.” Instead of Kai. He searches your gaze desperately as he bites his lip, leaning closer. — You don’t say anything, if you do, his statement would become real. You’re scared, you think.

But he doesn’t give up. “I know that you hate me, but please, I can’t stand it when-”

“I don’t hate you, Yeonjun.”

His mouth shuts, and he blinks at you, confused, brows knitting together. “What?” — “But you said..” You shake your head, turning away as you feel tears prick in the corner of your eyes. You hated how easily he made you cry, even when he didn’t intend to. “I lied.” You confess, shame and guilt overflowing your senses. “Why?”

“Because I was scared.”

As the words left your lips, you think that the two of you might not be so different after all. Maybe, just maybe. — Yeonjun doesn’t say anything, his attention dropping to your knees, barely grazing one another. His hand on the sofa twitches, as if he held himself back from reaching out, from touching you.

“I was scared of liking you.” Your quiet whisper felt like a weight being lifted off your shoulders. A small murmur was all it had taken, so why had it seemed so hard? — His gaze shifts back to your face, his eyes wide as his lips part in surprise. “You were right all along”, you give him a half hearted smile, watching as his frown deepened. “I’ve always liked you”, you swallow, “even when I didn't want to.”

A pang of guilt takes over his expression for a moment as he internally cringes at your words, more so his own actions. “I thought it would go away if I told myself that I hated you.” You shake your head, glossy eyes dropping to your hands, the first tears threatening to escape at any moment. “It never did.” Your vision slowly becomes blurred as you blink away the salty droplets that fell down your cheeks.

You can barely see it, but you can feel it, the warm caress of his hand on your cheek. It feels nice, comforting, you don’t push him off, you don’t want to. He wipes your tears, the very same that he had caused. The faint whisper of yet another apology lingering on his lips. — Then he hesitates, you never saw Yeonjun hesitating, he always took what he wanted, did as he pleased. But you can tell that he’s uncertain of his next move. His eyes flickering between your teary eyes and parted lips.

In the end he decides to be brave. Slowly initiating what had been on both of your minds for weeks now. But when his lips meet yours, it feels different, this kiss is nothing like your previous ones. It holds no guilt, no shame, no secrets, it doesn’t feel forced nor desperate. It feels like an apology, remorseful of the past, and like a promise, a vow to the future. You can tell that he expects you to pull back, to tell him off, just like you had days prior.

Instead you cling to him, part of you thinks that this might be just what you need, another part says it’s stupid and reckless. But in the end, you want to be brave too. Even if that meant being stupid and reckless. — The stupid and reckless part of you lets him push you back against the soft cushion, lets him kiss you deeper, lets his hands trail across your body.

“I’m sorry.” He chants it like a prayer, littering your body in the light caress of his lips. You know he means it, every kiss, every touch, every apology. — His hair feels soft between your fingers, you twist the strands lightly, feeling him sigh against your skin. Yeonjun was usually one to talk in moments like these, but today there are no sarcastic remarks on his tongue. He’s quiet, attentively listening to the hitch of your breath, the small moan passing your lips, he doesn’t want to miss a single thing.

He tugs your tights off, his hands immediately soothing the goosebumps erupting on your naked skin. You think he looks pretty like this, basked in the first rays of sunshine, half lidded eyes rapidly moving as he trails them across every inch of your body. — His lips return to yours, fingers sliding between your legs just like they had so many times before, but this time it’s different, everything is.

He touches you slowly, he pays attention, he wants to know exactly how he makes you feel. Treating you as if you were made out of glass, worshiping you as if you were made out of gold. You become hyper aware of the way his body moves against yours, the soft pattern of his fingers sending sparks through your stomach.

You had been intimate with Yeonjun more times than you could remember. Yet as he lines himself up alongside you, it suddenly feels like the first. It feels new, nervous, perhaps even a little scary. But that was okay, you knew that he was scared too. — He goes slow, savoring the moment as his face rests in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry.” He can’t stop saying it, it’s never enough, it never makes up for the damage he’s created, he knows it. But you forgive him, you would continue to forgive him for eternity if he apologized for as long.

He groans against you, his voice is near trembling. Your hands are on his back, feeling the smooth surface of his skin, then they’re tangled in his hair, pulling him to look at you. For the first time it feels as if you’re seeing him clearly. Behind the lying, the cheating, the bullying, it was just him. Just Yeonjun.

As soon as the first tear rolls down his cheek, you kiss him. Tasting the saltiness on your lips, he sobs into your mouth. His chest heaves against yours, his once slow and deliberate thrusts becoming jagged and uneven as he fights to stay composed. You want to say something, but you don’t know what. Instead you pull him closer, so close that you can’t feel anything but his body against yours.

You stay like that, melted against one another. Hours pass, neither of you seem to mind. His breath is warm against your chest, your fingers are soft in his hair. The silence is light, comforting, reassuring. Your mind is filled with him, he’s all you can think about, all you want to think about. You know he feels the same, it’s comforting to know. It’s also scary, you’re not sure if you’re ready. But even then, you’ll at least be scared together, just the two of you.

It’s nice to not be alone.

⸝⸝

Monday morning also feels different. Maybe because you’re walking down the hallway side by side, you and Yeonjun. People stare, he tells you to ignore them, you try, and it works. You glance over at him, he looks happy, his step is light, his arm securely wrapped around your waist. You find yourself smiling, biting the inside of your cheek as you gaze ahead.

It’s not until you reach the all too familiar door, leading into your classroom, that you halt. Confused, Yeonjun stops a pace in front of you. “Is something wrong?” He asks as he studies your nervous posture, your eyes flickering between the now almost empty hallway and the door in front of you. The corridors were one thing, but the classroom held so many memories. Memories that wouldn’t just vanish over a day.

He notices your hesitation, a small smile tugging at his lips as he shakes his head. He reaches out, his warm hand enveloping yours as he grips it firmly. You glance between your interlocked fingers, and the small grin splayed across his face. — “I’ve got you, nerd.”

The small reassurance makes you smile, and you nod, letting him tug you closer as Yeonjun pushes the classroom door open.

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#beomiracles ₊˚⊹ ᰔ #choi yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #jjunie's dreams #yeonjun imagines #Choi Yeonjun smut #choi yeonjun x you #choi yeonjun imagines #choi yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun x you #txt fanfic #txt smut #txt imagines

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hannieehaee · 11 months ago

Text

SINGING LOW

18+ / mdi

summary: despite everyone within the industry knowing mingyu to date around a lot, what didn't meet the public's eye was his undying crush on you, his label mate, and his need to fill the you-shaped hole in his heart with any girl who'd give him the time of day.

content: idol!mingyu x hybeidol!reader, pining, mingyu's kind of a slut, smut, afab reader, reader is a 97 liner, dry humping, a lot of made up shit abt the industry lmao, mentions of other idols, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, mentions of cheating, mentions of a breakup, angst, fluffy ending, etc.

wc: 13k~

a/n: this is not connected to my lil idol!mingyu x idol!reader series just fyi <3 i hope u guys enjoy this it took me like a month to write T-T

masterlist | kofi

Mingyu could still remember the day he met you. Well, maybe not met, but it was the first time he ever saw you face to face. It was at some awards show back in 2017. MAMA, was it? Or maybe the MMAs? Well, that didn't matter much. All he knew is that on stage, you had caught his eye.

It was only about a year into his debut, so he still wasn't too used to this scene. He simply sat back and enjoyed the pretty sight in front of him, knowing your group (and you) by name, but not having had the pleasure of meeting you personally by then. He hadn't met many people thus far, actually. At the time, most of his friends in the industry consisted of the twelve other members of his group. Coming from a small company, it had been hard for any of the members to begin to disperse and befriend their peers in the industry. Sure, they all had friendly acquaintances with other idols, but nothing could really compare to what they had with one another.

It wasn't until somewhere around 2017 that Mingyu had finally found a group of friends outside of his twelve members that he could trust. He had always been an outgoing guy, befriending anyone who'd look his way. He reasoned that someone had to be the icebreaker in every social situation, and he had given himself that job. Despite being a charismatic extrovert, however, most of these friendships did not stick. He developed many acquaintances, and maybe even situational friendships, but he had not really considered anyone a friend until meeting one Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook was simply the tip of the iceberg. Some believed Mingyu had taken the man under his wing, while others believed the opposite, but it had in fact been a mutual aid. They had both felt a bit lost at the time they met, bonding over the many things their lives had in common. Their age being one of them. At first it was thrown around as a joke, the idea of forming a little group with the many other 97-liners within their industry. But that joke became reality soon after when Mingyu had met Yugyeom backstage during his group's most recent comeback at the time. The three soon became four, taking in a Cha Eunwoo, and then a Jaehyun from NCT. Even some of Mingyu's own members joining, having the privilege of being born on the great year of 1997. This was how you eventually entered the picture.

Mingyu had already known you, well, more so known about you. Despite being the same age, you had debuted a couple of years before Seventeen, which gave him the opportunity to get to know you as an idol before he did personally. He still remembered the days in the green basement, watching comeback shows with the members as they prepared for their own debut. There had been a specific day when your group had been presenting their debut stage, which was also the day Mingyu first caught sight of you. You had caught his eye immediately. There was just something about you. He might've developed a slight interest in you from that moment on, hoping for the day in which he would become one of your peers.

Upon debuting, Mingyu had only seen you in passing for the first couple of years, the closest contact being a quick and informal introduction between your groups as you cruised through the backstage hallways of MNET. You looked even better in real life, he had to admit. But sadly, there was no one-on-one interaction between you that day. Nor was there during any of the following encounters throughout the next few years. It wasn't until about a year into the creation of the 97 squad that Mingyu had the pleasure of meeting you personally.

It was sometimes Jungkook who brought in new members to the friend group, but it was mostly Mingyu who would take the liberty of befriending the aforementioned members in order to introduce them into the group. It was mostly due to Mingyu's extroverted personality, which allowed him to strike up conversation with anyone at any time, unlike Jungkook who was a bit shier in that aspect. It had been Jungkook, however, who had first introduced the two of you. It had been backstage of MAMA or MMA, he wasn't completely sure. Mingyu also wasn't sure how you and Jungkook had met; he'd never bothered to ask, but upon your first meeting it had seemed like the two of you were close friends already. Mingyu had to admit that upon that first assumption, he was a bit jealous of his proximity to you. This was immediately followed by the realization that maybe Mingyu's previous infatuation in you went further than mere interest in you as a fellow idol, but it was maybe a bit of a crush. Regardless of what Mingyu had felt at the moment, he knew that he wanted to see you again.

For some unknown reason, you were not present in the following 97 gathering soon after your introduction. This struck Mingyu as strange, seeing as you were also a 97, and a friend of Jungkook's, so why would you not be present? It was soon after revealed to Mingyu that you had yet to be offered a spot in the now renown 97 squad. Jungkook had assessed that all the dating rumors that would come attached to the inclusion of a girl in the group were simply not worth it. He wanted to save you both the headache and the scandal. It seemed like a pretty reasonable decision. Mingyu, however, was not the most reasonable of people, often allowing his decision-making to be led by impulse rather than calculated choices. Which was why Mingyu had found himself walking up to you next time he spotted you at yet another comeback show, promptly asking you if you'd like to meet some of his friends sometime in the following week, claiming it was tradition for all 97s to go for a drink every other week. He felt like he was inviting you to join into a cult, or at least that's what you said to him it had felt like. But you had still agreed, giving him your number so that you could be privy to the details of the meeting.

Your admission to the friend group came very naturally, having already met a few of the members and easily befriending the rest. Yes, it had come with some controversy at first, but Mingyu had come to learn that you were quite strong-minded, not allowing a few rumors to get in the way of your personal life. It was easy for the two of you to grow close after that. Despite having befriended the entirety of the group, you and Mingyu seemed to form a more special bond, even seeking each other's company outside of group gatherings. It was all platonic, of course. Mingyu had quickly realized you did not seem interested in that way, so he tucked his crush deep within him, choosing to offer a friendship to you instead, never speaking of his crush to anyone. This was how the two of you came to become best friends.

This repression of his feelings, however, did not come without its consequences.

Mingyu was a hopeless romantic at heart. This meant that his crush never really went away. It actually worsened over the years that he knew you. But you never acted like anything other than a friend to him. You would always treat him the same way you did Jaehyun or Eunwoo. He was just another one of the members of the friend group to you. Yes, you two were closer in nature – calling each other the best of friends within the industry – but Mingyu did not want to risk that closeness just because of a selfish crush.

The repression of his feelings was also met with other things. Mingyu was a very loving man. He needed to express his love to everyone around him or he would physically explode (Okay, not really, but he swore that's what it felt like to him). He had a loving family to tend to by taking care of them financially and spending every waking minute away from work with. He had his thirteen best friends to shower with playful affection during and out of work. He had his 97-liners to play around with in between work schedules. What he did not have, however, was that one person who was his and only his. Someone to give the type of love that you reserve for only that one special person in your life.

Mingyu found himself seeking this person out since the beginning of time. Many would call Mingyu a womanizer or a player due to the high volume of relationships he had been involved in during his life. It wasn't like that, however. Not at all. Mingyu would date a girl he liked, would be happy with her, but would ultimately realize that the spark he was looking for was not there, causing him to regrettably end the relationship. He was often met with curses directed his way, but he felt it was best to try and end it amicably if he did not see a future there.

His most recent relationship had been with a former staff member. She was funny and sweet, and also pretty easy on the eyes. They got along very well when she first got assigned to Mingyu as part of his personal team. It started as a friendship, but it didn't take long for Mingyu's hopeless romantic tendencies to seek her out in a romantic way, something to which she obviously agreed to immediately. Mingyu had no issue getting women on his side. He had never dealt with rejection all his life. Being handsome, talented, funny, and even rich from a young age, it was rare to be met with anything but enthusiastic responses left and right. The relationship did not end amicably, however. Mingyu should've known better than to date someone who technically worked for him. I mean, he had been through this before (with one stylist, one MNET staff member, and a former Pledis recruiter to be specific), so he should've known by now that mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea. But his romantic tendencies couldn't be helped. He had too much love to give, and no one to give it to.

In the big year of 2023, Mingyu had found himself in five different relationships, all ranging in length.

His longest one had been three months, and it had been with a fellow idol whose name he'd rather keep to himself. Despite his friendly and easy-going demeanor, the relationship had ended terribly. He had realized three months in that he did not feel as strongly about her as she did him, choosing to try and end it on friendly terms. As per usual, his proposal to end it was met with curses and threats. It couldn't be helped, Mingyu was a catch, and his usual switch up in feelings (reasonably) stirred up feathers any time he realized he hadn't found the spark he was looking for in the respective relationship.

After that, Mingyu took a quick break from relationships, only to rebound with a random girl he met at a quiet pub in Seoul. One NDA later and he had her in his bed for a few weeks after that, only ending it after he got his head out of the gutter and focused on more the more important things aspects of his life once more. And the cycle repeated.

Throughout all of this, you didn't leave his mind for too long. From one relationship to another, a glimpse of your name would always be imbedded in his brain as he apologized to whichever girl he was with at the time, regretfully letting them know that he just didn't see it going further; that he was looking for someone something else. Despite having known you for a few years now, his feelings were still there. They had been in the back-burner for a while, but they'd resurface every once in a while. It made him feel guilty every single time, specially now that you had been in a relationship for a while.

Yes. You were in a relationship, which was one of the main reasons why Mingyu found himself serial-dating (and maybe sleeping around a bit, sans any involvement of feelings) more than usual this year.

You'd only been with that guy for eight months. It had started at the end of last year. Being best friends, you had let Mingyu know about the entirety of it. From your first meeting, to your first time holding hands, even to your first time sleeping together. It had been hell on Mingyu's side. He was in love with you; had been for years, and now he had to deal with watching you deliver your love to someone who was not him all while he watched from the sidelines, with a fake supportive smile that could never leave his face. The skill he had at hiding his feelings for you was truly unmatched. No one, not even his closest friends, knew about his feelings. Okay, there were a few exceptions, a few slips of the tongue when he was drunk and thinking of you a bit too much. Damn you, Jeon Wonwoo and Lee Seokmin for having been present that fateful night in which you'd texted him letting him know you'd be busy til the morning, excited that that night was the night you'd finally stay over at your boyfriend's for the first time. That had been a new low for Mingyu. He hadn't felt such a huge pit in his stomach as he did that day, knowing you'd be sleeping in the safety of someone else's arms (or doing much worse) while he pined for you in a tiny bar across the city.

That was more or less the time in which be had started dating around again. No matter his busy schedule, he needed his heart filled (and occasionally, his bed too). Unfortunately for him, that hollow in his heart could only be filled by you. His crush had been in the back-burner, sure, but it had never truly left him. The time you spent together was very scarce, as you two worked very busy idol schedules, but he cherished it immensely. Nothing truly compared to the relationship he had with you. The way you understood him and just fulfilled everything he could ever want in a girl was unmatched. He tried to keep these thoughts at bay, but every time he saw you made them resurface.

It had been a while since you two last each other. You were just returning from your tour, while he and his group prepared for theirs. The two of you kept up with each other through text almost on a daily basis, so he was surprised to see you as he walked the Hybe hallways, having been certain you were scheduled to arrive two days from now. These thoughts were put aside, however, the moment you spotted him and ran to him, pulling him in a hug. How was he not supposed to be enamored when you were so physically affectionate? When you felt so perfect in his hold? Other similarly delusional thoughts invaded his mind as he held you. Did you come back early to see him? He had told you he was leaving on his own tour soon, so maybe you wanted to catch him before he left. Had he been your first stop upon your return? I mean you were walking along the same hallway as Seventeen's practice room, surely you had been looking for him, right? His questions were answered almost immediately upon releasing you from his arms.

"Gyu! Missed you so much. God, it's been so long. How long has it be-"

"A month," it had been a whole month since you'd seen each other. Almost to the day. He had felt your absence very clearly.

"Too long. Hate that you're going on tour soon too," you threw him a pout, one that made him feel that maybe you meant it; that you'd miss him as much as he did you.

He was feeling melancholic lately for some reason. His feelings were heightened by your sudden presence.

"Only going to Japan for two weeks. It's fine, you'll have me back soon."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, baby, I pinky promise," he'd take you with him given the chance, "How come you're here earlier?"

"Oh! My boyfriend's sister has an engagement dinner this week. He insisted I go, so I asked if I could come back a bit earlier since we were already done with tour."

"Oh. Have you been to see him yet?", was that too obvious a question? He wanted some salvation that maybe he took at least a bit of priority over that guy.

"Nope. Wanted to stop by and see you first! I wasn't sure when you were leaving, so I didn't wanna risk meeting you."

All in life was restored now. This was all he needed to hear to ignite the spark once again. Okay, maybe a bit dramatic, but being Mingyu, he could feed himself for a month with the scraps you were throwing at him.

"Missed me that much?", he gave you a boyish smile, teasing you but with some hidden hope on the side.

"Shut up. You're so annoying. You're my one remaining friend. Everyone else is gone on tour! God, I hate touring season. If you don't come back by the end of the month, I swear to God ..."

"I'll be back soon, don't worry. You have your guy to keep you company anyways."

"Hah, yeah .. Well, uhm. I should probably go see him, actually. Call me later, though? We can go for a coffee or something. You know, before you leave and everything. When is that, by the way?"

You seemed a bit awkward at the mention of your boyfriend, despite you having even mentioned him earlier, but Mingyu chose to let it slide. It's not like he liked remembering his existence anyway.

"Thursday. You still have me for three days."

"Three?? Shit. Okay, so you absolutely should call me tonight, then. We'll hang out one of these days, okay? Promise me."

"You don't have to convince me, but okay. Pinky?"

You giggled, putting up your pinky to hook with his. This was a tendency of yours, born out of an inside joke Mingyu had already forgotten about, but you'd always pinky promise each other things. It was kind of your own personal thing, despite it seeming a bit childish for your age.

Pulling away, you said a final goodbye before threatening once more about calling you, saying you'd be seeing him off before he left. He agreed (obviously) and went on with his day, looking forward to hanging out with you one-on-one after being deprived of you for two months, while also cursing your shared company for scheduling you away from each other back to back.

The two of you only spoke on the phone for a few minutes, agreeing that you'd meet for coffee the following morning before heading to your specific schedules – the perks of working at the same company. You'd also agreed on having him over the following night for a few drinks as you bid him farewell on his short-lived Japan tour. Despite your boyfriend's dinner falling on that same day, you assured him that you'd be done on time to spend the night drinking with him; playing catchup. You'd usually invite some of the other members of the 97 squad, but most were busy, and seeing as you'd be meeting in your home, there was no need for more people in order to prevent scandal. There had already been a few instances in which the public believed you two to be dating, which was why you'd never hang out alone while in public.

Although most of the media had already gotten used to seeing the two of you together, knowing you were friends, there was still an entire subsection of your fans who believed there might be more there. As much as Mingyu wished for it to be true, he also felt bad for the scrutiny those dating rumors gave you. He'd be willing to fight for you if the occasion ever arose, but you'd need to at least look his way for that to happen; something that he was still working on.

"Hi, Gyu! Sit, I got your usual."

You had been sitting by a window at the Hybe cafeteria when he walked in. He had to get to the building a bit earlier in order to make time to see you, but the decision between sleeping an extra hour or getting to hang out with you before he left was a given for him.

"Hey, baby. Thanks."

"Sooo. Anything new? What did I miss while I was gone?"

He chuckled at your inquiries. You were always very interested in his life, always keeping up with everything he had to share. It was cute, really. Made him a bit delusional at times too. He'd imagine a different scenario; one in which you'd be laying in bed together at night, going over your respective days as you allowed slumber to take over.

"Nothing much. Had a comeback. I kinda told you about everything as it happened. You called me almost every other night."

It was true. You were kind of attached to the hip by now, communicating with Mingyu as much as you could. He sometimes wondered if that was the case with your actual boyfriend.

"Hmm. Okay. No new girls then?"

Ah. Okay, that was an area of his life he didn't really touch with you. He didn't want to give you the wrong impression. How was be supposed to explain his dating habits without you thinking he just gave it up to everyone? (Which he kind of did). There was no way for him to talk his way through it without revealing his feelings for you.

"Anyway. How's things with your guy? Ready for the dinner thingy tomorrow?"

'Nice segway, Gyu', you chuckled at his evasion, "Uh, yeah I guess. I bought a new dress and everything. Haven't had a chance to meet his family til now."

"You don't seem too enthusiastic. Trouble in paradise?", he knew that you knew he wasn't a fan of your boyfriend, but he also knew you weren't aware of the real reason why.

"It's not that, just ... I don't know. We've been, uh, arguing a bit more for a while," you looked a bit dejected as you said it, eyes on your drink instead of him.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine, Gyu, really. It's nice to be able to talk about it. It's just- I've been bugging you about my relationship since before it even started, I felt kinda embarrassed to bring this up. And I know you don't really like him. I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Well, that all checked out. He would always evade any conversation about your romantic life, despite how frequently you brought up your boyfriend. It had stopped after a while, however. You had probably caught up on his lack of enthusiasm whenever you'd bring him up. It made him feel guilty that you'd actively hold back from airing your grievances to him, though. Had he been that obvious with his disdain for the subject?

"No, fuck. I'm sorry. You can always talk about it with me. Just .. been going through some stuff of my own, that's all. What's been going on? You can tell me. Always," he grabbed your hands across the table to offer you some comfort.

"Really? What's wrong, Gyu? You know you can talk to me too, right?"

He knew. He just couldn't bring himself to. Not yet. Maybe someday he'd be ready to risk the friendship and tell you, but for now he wanted to enjoy you by his side in whichever way you were willing to give yourself to him.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it," he offered you a soft smile, rubbing his thumbs reassuringly on the back of your hands, "Now tell me, what's up?"

"It's just ... He's been a bit pushy lately? We got into a fight about his sister's engagement dinner. He was mad I couldn't come, so I had to fix my schedule to make it. Management got mad at me about it too. God, I just don't know how to juggle both things, Gyu. I'm too busy, I- How do you do it?"

"Me? I'm the worst person you can ask. I haven't been in a serious relationship in years. And it doesn't matter anyway. It's not about me."

He wanted to go back to what you first said. Were you having issues with your boyfriend? He didn't want to relish on it, but he always saw something in him he didn't like. Getting in the way of your career was in no way okay in Mingyu's book. Who did he think he was?

"It's not your fault you're busy. He knew what he was getting into dating an idol," he continued, "You shouldn't let him feel like he can get in the way of your career. There's so many guys out there who would understand and support you."

Like him, for instance. He was an idol too, after all. He knew the struggle of dating in this medium all too well. No one would understand you the way he did. He wanted to scream it out for everyone to hear.

"Yeah, I know you're right. I know. It's just- it's been so hard to find someone. We're 26, Gyu. I'm ready for the long run. This is the longest relationship I've ever had. I know it hasn't even been a year, but I know I want to settle down someday soon. I ... I really like him, Gyu. What do I do?"

It felt like a punch in the gut. He enjoyed being in denial, pretending like your current boyfriend was just a placeholder while the real deal – Mingyu – came along, but that plan wouldn't really work unless you were also on board. So now he was forced to face reality and give you some friendly advice. It was too bad he liked you so much, because he couldn't help himself in giving you genuine advice instead of attempting to sabotage your relationship as any other reasonable person would.

"Try to talk it out with him. I mean, he should know by now how busy your schedule is, but sometimes it's hard for people to really understand. Tell him your issues and let him tell you his. Communication is the best thing you can do."

Damn him for being so emotionally smart and in touch with his feelings. He did not want to do your boyfriend any favors, but he prioritized your happiness over his own stupid feelings. It was a catch 22, except he always ended up making the desicion that favored your happiness the most.

"Yeah ... you're right, Gyu. Thank you. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to turn this into couple's counseling. I'll shut up about my relationship now, okay? Let's, uh, talk about your comeback. Wanna record a tiktok with me before you leave?"

He decided to let you rest from what was probably a very stressful subject for you at the moment. Likelihood was that you'd keep him updated on it sooner or later. So, he chose to play along with you instead and change the subject, now finally catching up with you as he ignored your boyfriend's existence, pretending in his head that this wasn't just the platonic hangout you intended it to be, but something more.

The next day came sooner than anticipated. Mingyu's days always had a tendency of blending together whenever he had a comeback. Being an idol, he had to get used to the hectic nature of the job, even growing to enjoy it at some points.

The two of you had agreed to meet at 8-ish. You had told him that your boyfriend's sister's dinner was more of a brunch than an actual dinner, that you'd call him up at some point to let him know you'd be home to receive him into your abode for some drinks.

He didn't think too much of it when it turned into 8:00 and you hadn't called him. When time passed until 8:30, he began to wonder if something happened, but decided against contacting you. It was at about 9:15 that he finally received a text from you apologizing for your delay and letting him know that he could stop by whenever, that you had food and drinks ready for him waiting for his arrival. Once again, he decided not to question the delay, simply being content that he'd get some one-on-one time with you before he left for two grueling weeks for the Japan leg of his tour.

You welcomed him as per usual; with a tight hug and a peck on the cheek. He never thought much of it, but still always relished on it. Conversation flew as usual for the first thirty minutes, with Mingyu telling you stories of things that had happened with his members during your absence, but he could sense you weren't at your best. Asking was still not something he felt like doing, however. He didn't want to intrude in case you didn't feel like talking about it, and he also didn't want to hear about your relationship again. It was selfish, but there was only so much a man could take. Usually when you had an issue you would just tell him, so he chose to just let you take the reins. Your communication with each other was always very seamless, which was why he wasn't surprised when you finally brought it up a few moments after the thought flew through his mind.

"Sorry I'm a bit off today, Gyu," you chuckled, nursing your second beer of the night.

"Couldn't even tell, don't worry about it," that was a bit of a lie, but he didn't want you to feel badly on top of whatever was going on on your side of things.

"Don't lie to me. You read me better than anyone."

It was said in a lighthearted tone, but he knew you were right. He was always able to get a perfect read on you. He knew you, and you knew him in the way any pair of best friends would (sorry, Wonwoo).

"Okay, what's up? Did something happen at the brunch?"

You groaned dramatically, letting yourself fall back on the recline of the couch.

"Okay, so that's a yes ... Wanna talk about it?"

'Is it okay if I do? I'm sorry, I know I said I'd stop, but, it's kinda important this time."

That piqued his interest. And not in a good way.

"We, uh, we're taking a break."

Oh.

Admittedly, that really caught Mingyu off guard. For the entirety of your relationship with your boyfriend (even during the talking stage), you had never informed Mingyu of any problems between the two of you until yesterday, when you brought up his insistence at your return from tour, along with the frequent of arguments with him. You'd been the picture-perfect relationship in the eyes of anyone who was privy to your personal life, which was yet another reason why Mingyu always avoided speaking about your romantic life. Bitterness was something Mingyu rarely felt, but your relationship always brought it out in him. He also had always had a feeling about your boyfriend. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he just knew. Regardless, hearing that things weren't only not going well, but even going badly enough to require a break, surprised him.

"Oh, I- Fuck, I'm sorry. You should've told me. Fuck, I feel like a dick just talking about some stupid story about Vernon when you're dealing with this. What- what happened?"

"It's fine, Mingyu, really. It's not that big of a deal, I .. I kinda saw it coming," you certainly didn't seem heartbroken, but you still looked dimmer than usual.

"Do you wanna talk about it?", he scoot up to sit closer to you, knees now touching as you faced each other on the couch.

"It was what you'd expect. I tried to talk to him about my schedule; how I can't just drop my job for things that aren't that important, like some random brunch. He took it personally. He even picked a fight in front of his family. God, it was so embarrassing. It, uh, it ended up with me asking him for some space."

"Oh ... Baby, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you to talk to him on an important day like that. That was terrible advice from me, I'm sorry."

"No, Gyu. It's fine! You were right. I needed to talk to him. I thought he'd understand, but I guess I misread him. I- I don't know what's gonna happen. It was a pretty big argument. He brought the argument all the way back to his apartment once the brunch ended. That's why I was late tonight. Fuck, I don't even know if we're broken up."

"What did you say? What did he say?", he felt like a teenage girl snooping for details in his friend's relationship, but he genuinely felt bad. Had his constant wishful hopes for you two to break up cause this? No, that was stupid. But he still felt bad for not having been too supportive of the relationship despite being your best friend.

"He said that if I'm not willing to prioritize his family, then he didn't see much of a future. I told him that my job didn't even give me the privilege prioritize my own family, so he'd have to wait for things to get less hectic for me. He didn't like that, so he started to get agitated ... He scared me a bit, so I told him we should just take a break away from each other. He, uh, he just told me to get out after that."

Jesus Christ. Had you been bottling this up since he got here? He felt like a terrible friend for making you feel like you couldn't talk to him about it. Yeah, maybe he had prayed for the day you'd finally break up, but now that it was (maybe) here, he felt like he had been the cause of your sadness. Except you didn't look too sad; more so disappointed.

"I- I'm so sorry," he went to hold you against him, "Had you been keeping this to yourself this whole time? Fuck, you should've cancelled on me. I would've understood. Are you okay? Never mind, of course you're not. I, shit, How can I help you? What do you need?"

You giggled against his chest at his rambling, something that made his heart swell despite the circumstances.

"I'm fine, Gyu, I promise. I didn't wanna make our last night together before you leave about him. I know I said I like him a lot, but .. honestly, I saw a different side of him tonight. I do feel a little sad; like I wasted my time for the past year I've known him, specially these past eight months, but I know my worth. Besides, all I wanted tonight was to drink with you. Being with you always makes me feel better."

Oh. Oh.

How did you expect him not to read into things when you said something like that? It was like you were screaming at him to make you his. And he wanted to. God, did he want to.

Instead he reached over the coffee table in front of your couch, grabbing another pair of bottles of soju before gesturing to you.

"Well, if it'll make you feel better, I can't really argue against it, can I?", and with that, he opened both bottles, handing you one as the two of you swung them with no cares in the world.

It was quite common for the two of you to drink together. Granted, you'd usually be accompanied by either the 97s or some of his own members, but if you felt like drinking with him would help you forget about your (hopefully) ex, then so be it.

Only about an hour passed by the time you were both tipsy.

The subjects of conversation varied a lot, from fun fan interactions during your tour, weird moments in interviews, fights with your group mates, to some more personal stuff.

You were currently playing a tipsy version of 20 questions, or at least that's what it seemed like as you took turns to question the other. Nothing was off the table.

"Soooo, who's the last girl you hooked up with?"

"Oh, I, uh-"

"I know you don't like to talk about your relationships to me, which I don't really get by the way," you said in a jokingly scolding tone as you dug your finger accusingly in his chest, "but cmon. Tell meee."

He remained a silent, but blubbering mess. Did you mean hook up, or relationship? There had been multiple instances of both which you had been unaware of until now.

"Was it Nayeon? Seokmin said you dated an idol for a few months," you giggled at his widened eyes.

"What? Seokmin? I'm gonna kill him- No! I never dated Nayeon. We're just friends, I-"

"Good. I never liked her for you."

"Huh? What? Why not?"

Not that he was ever interested in her (They were just friends, truly!), but he was curious as to your reasoning.

"I don't know. Gut feeling?", you took another swing of your third soju bottle of the night, "I've never really liked any of the girls you've been with. Is that mean of me?", the question was accompanied by a playful pout, which unintentionally drew his eyes to your lips.

"Why's that, baby?", he took the bottle from your hands, setting in on the table next to his. Suddenly he felt a bit less tipsy, sobering up at your unexpected bluntness.

"They just .. None have felt right for you. They're not good for you," you sounded like a petulant child as you said it, sitting up a bit, causing your body to lean further closer to his own, faces now closer than usual.

Oh? Did you-

"Do you-"

"Gyu," you breathed out.

Shit, when had you gotten so close?

"Y/N, I-"

"Shh. It's okay, Gyu. Right?," your eyes had slowly descended to his lips, making his own copy your movements.

By now you were basically on his lap, your face towering over his as he slowly nodded at your question, ready for you to finally close the gap but still gasping against you once the proximity had ceased to exist.

His moan against your lips couldn't be helped, nor could the way his arms wrapped around you, pulling you impossibly closer. The alcohol had not yet reached a point where it could rid him of his inhibitions, but had instead made his senses even more sensitive. Neither of you were lightweights, so Mingyu knew that the alcohol had boldened you more than anything. He thanked the courage it had given the both of you to finally end up here.

He gave you the best of him in his kiss, tongue swiping against yours almost immediately as he played with it. He toyed with your bottom lip, swallowing the moan that came as a result. You felt so soft against him; so sweet and delicate. There had been no night in which he didn't dream of your lips against his. The real thing had thrown him a curveball, making him unsure of what to do other than moan against your lips as his hands ran up and down your back.

You pulled away first, or well, tried to. Mingyu did a good job of following your lips with a whine, licking into your open mouth as he incited you into continuing the kiss. He was the one to break it next, only to pepper kisses along your neck, enjoying the feeling of your head being thrown back.

"Gyu ..."

"Please ... Just let me ..."

He felt bad kissing you like this when you had just (maybe?) broken up with your boyfriend, but he couldn't help himself. This was like dangling a meal in front of a starving man, asking him to please take a bite. There was no way for him to deny you when you had seeked him out first.

You disconnected his lips from your neck, looking into his eyes. Your expression let him know you were pondering your choices, eyes going from his eyes to his lips. He whined against you as you decided to attack him with yet another kiss, this time more vulgar in nature.

The two of you kissed for long enough for Mingyu to lose his sanity, finally taking initiative to carry you to your room, not once allowing you to disconnect your lips. The entirety of it was sensual, from the removal of your clothes to the feel of your lips against each other. You, lying in bed with only some thin panties and a tiny bralette to cover your intimate parts had him losing his mind. Was this real? Did he really have the girl of his dreams in bed, eyeing his almost nude body like she wanted to do very disrespectful things to him?

"Gyu ... Please, I need you."

He finally leaned over you, allowing your most intimate parts to finally touch, only the two thin layers of your respective underwear separating you. Slowly, he dragged his length against your cunt, groaning at the way your nails dug onto his back as a result, with your own back arching. Your chest was pressed up against his, making him grow frustrated and ripping off your bra in order to feel your hardened buds drag against his chest as your hips connected.

Ungluing his body from yours, he finally dragged down your panties, taking a moment to look at the entirety of your nude body.

"You ... You gorgeous thing, fuck. Do you even know how perfect you are? Your body ... Jesus Christ. How do you not have people on their knees begging to be buried between your legs every single day?," his voice showed genuine frustration as he said this, getting down on his own knees and beginning to lick and suck at your thighs.

"I ... Just want y- you ... Want you just like this."

"Like this, angel? On my knees, begging for cunt?"

His tongue itched for you, causing him to finally begin licking at your clit ever so lightly, groaning at the smell of your cunt.

"Ple- please! Gyu, I need ... You don't understand, I need you so-"

"I dont understand? Oh, baby ... I'm gonna break you .. Gonna make this cunt cry for me by the time I'm finished, don't you worry, angel."

Those were the last words spoken by him before finally burying his face nose-deep into your cunt. His cries and groans against your warmth couldn't be helped. He had no control over himself as he dove in and gave you everything he had to offer. Your cries and grinds against his face were not helping things at all. His own hips ground against the mattress as he took in all your pretty sounds of pleasure. Causing you to lose your mind like this made him lose his own tenfold. He had wanted nothing more than to make you his ever since that fateful day in which he turned the TV on back in the green room and saw you dancing on stage. His crush had haunted him for too many years, taunting him upon your first meeting and up to this very moment. But karma had finally smiled his way. He wasn't sure what he'd done in order for karmic retribution to gift you to him, but he'd do it over and over again if it meant he could keep you all to himself.

"Oh, Gyu ... Feel so good. Shit, so fucking good. I- God, pl- please don't stop!"

Oh. You were so ... You wanted him to cum in his pants, didn't you? That had to be why you insisted on sounding so damn pretty when moaning his name.

"Keep moaning my name, beautiful. W- wanna hear you, fuck, please," he begged against your sopping cunt, "Nd grind that pretty pussy against me. Use my nose, my tongue, anything, just ... Wanna feel that tiny little cunt cream all over my face."

His words also seemed to have some type of effect on you. You began to push his head against you in an uncontrolled manner, crying in high-pitched whines that made his own eyes roll back. He knew he'd cum like this. He couldn't even be embarrassed by the thought. Cumming because a beautiful girl – you of all people? – was crying his name so prettily? Using his face to stimulate your cunt with no care in the world? The simple thought would've had him creaming his boxers.

Then he made the dire mistake of looking up.

You wanted him dead. If he wasn't sure before, he was now. Your mouth was open while your eyes were crossed, nose scrunched up at the pleasure. There was not a single thought behind those eyes. You were clearly lost to the pleasure. One of your hands was buried in his hair while the other toyed at your hardened buds. He made a mental note to lavish your breasts with attention whenever he was given the chance. He'd always dreamed of making you cry as he abused your tits with his tongue for hours on end. So many ideas were cruising through his mind at what he wanted to do to you. But these thoughts were interrupted by your loudest cry of the night, followed by warm cream invading his senses. His orgasm against your bedsheets followed immediately after.

The taste of your cream and the sound of your voice had forced him into his own orgasm. He made sure to let all his groans of pleasure land right against your cunt, as he was unable to stop licking at you even after your orgasm had ended. You whined at him a bit until he finally allowed you to push him away, letting out a whine of his own at the separation. The two of you stared at each other for a bit before he lost all control again, jumping on you as he shoved his tongue in your mouth. The kiss was extremely filthy; just an absolute mess of tongues as he gave you as much of your own essence as he could. He even went as far as begging you to stick out your tongue so he could spit on it, but growing too distracted and sucking on it with his own instead. His hands went crazy along your curves, not knowing where to stay as he found a new favorite spot to touch every few seconds.

His thoughts were once again interrupted by you, as you allowed your hands to find way to his dick, which was somehow hard again after just a few minutes of disrespecting your mouth with his tongue. He opened his own mouth against yours, groaning when you licked into his tongue as your hands sped up on his cock. He'd let you have as much fun with his body as you wanted. You didn't even have to ask, he'd just give you anything with no question.

"Want it in my mouth, Gyu ... Fuck. I- I've been dreaming about it ... Please let me have it in my mouth?"

That was the moment his brain stopped functioning, head falling into the crook of your neck as he cursed you out.

You ... You'd dreamt of his cock ... in your mouth? You wanted to choke on his dick? Wanted him to lose his mind as you looked up at him with those pretty eyes all while he disrespected your throat? You were begging for it? Oh ... Oh, fuck.

"Gyu?"

"A- anything ... God, I'll give you anything, just ... Yes! Please ... Wanna fuck that pretty mouth, baby, please? I'll give it to you. Just ... just never beg me like that again, okay? Can't ... can't hear you beg."

That seemed to pique your interest.

"Oh? Why not, baby? What if i wanna beg for your cock to bruise my throat? What if ..." you pressed your lips to his ear, "... I wanna beg to bounce on your cock until I cry? Am I not allowed?"

"Angel ... God, please ..."

"Can I have your cock now, baby?"

He nodded as your lips overtook his, whining at the bare thought of your lips wrapped around him. Which is what came next, but not without some teasing from you. You kissed down his body, sucking and licking at your favorite parts before finally landing on his aching cock.

It was sensitive from his previous orgasm, but you didn't care, simply choosing to lightly suck and lick at his tip, dragging your tongue along the vein ever so slowly. You took mercy on him after a few minutes of teasing, finally taking the whole thing into your mouth like an expert. You bobbed at a slow and sensual speed, eyes constantly on his as you did it. Eventually you gave him the green light to cant his hips against your mouth, making him throw his head back at the vibrations from your moans. The sight of your eyes crossed in pleasure also didn't help matters. Once more, he found himself cumming embarrassingly fast, groaning again when you swallowed as much of his load as you could muster.

He brought you up to sit on his lap, caressing your body tenderly as he thanked you for being so so good to him. You seemed exhausted, so he made sure to clean you up before tugging you under his covers, joining you soon after.

The two of you laid against each other, shy and tender touches being the only thing you could do to each other in your tired states.

"Gyu ... Thank you for being with me tonight. Thank you for taking care of me."

God, you were adorable.

With a kiss on your nose, he responded, "I'm always here for you, you know that. Thank you for being so ... so perfect for me, angel."

"Shut up ..." you whined as you buried your face in his chest out of embarrassment.

"Sleep, angel. Let me hold you in my arms as you sleep."

The next morning, the two of you woke up a mess of limbs. Today was the day in which Mingyu was meant to get on a plane and head to Japan for the next two weeks. But his mind wouldn't allow him to disconnect from you. You were so warm and soft in his hold. He'd need a whole army to pry him away from your touch.

Just in that moment, you turned to look at him, hand softly landing on his cheek upon realizing he was awake. He leaned against your touch, relishing in the soft way you caressed him.

"Gyu ... Last night ..."

"It was a dream ... You were so beautiful. You're so beautiful, angel. Made me feel so good."

His smile wouldn't leave his face. He wanted to wax poetic at you, tell you how in love with you he was, but he didn't want to scare you away just yet.

"You don't regret it?," you were pouting at him, head tilted in a questioning manner.

"I'd never regret you."

"Oh ... That's ... Sorry I jumped you like that. I .. I don't regret it either. I was afraid maybe you were just humoring me."

"Of course not. It was all real for me. Was, uh, was it real for you too?"

You smiled at him, pulling him in for a quick peck, "Of course it was, Gyu. It was so .. it was perfect. I just, fuck, I feel ... I need to call him."

You ... You were thinking of him? He thought he'd be out of the picture the moment your lips landed on his. Why was he even in your mind?

"Call him? Wh-"

"I need to officially break up with him. We never actually broke up. I need to tell him .. I don't want to carry this in my conscience. No break, just need to end it officially."

"Oh. I thought-"

"No, Gyu. There's ... There's no choice between the two of you. It's you," you paused with a sigh, "but I just need to talk to him. I don't want to be a cheater. I need to end it before anything else happens."

You seemed to feel guilty at the thought of going back to him, but Mingyu understood. He didn't want to get in the way of something you felt like you had to do in order to clear your conscience. He had waited for you for years, he could wait for another week or so to officially have you in his arms.

"I understand, angel. Don't worry. I'll wait as long as you need."

Your sigh in relief was all he needed to hear to know his feelings were mutual. The two of you wanted the same thing.

"Thank you, Gyu, really. It's all such a mess right now, but I promise it'll all be settled by the time you get back."

He groaned at the mention of his absence. He finally got you and now not only did you have to deal with your ex while he was gone, but he couldn't have you in his arms again for at least another week. Life was laughing at him once more.

"Fuck. I need to get ready, angel."

"Yeah. I'll get dressed and let you get ready. I'll see you at Hybe later?"

He hummed, "Wanna kiss me goodbye"

"Shut up and get dressed, Gyu."

Your goodbye had been quick, seeing as you'd already given him the best farewell gift last night. You bid him goodbye with the promise that you'd update him on your conversation with your ex as soon as it concluded. He left with the promise that he'd think of nothing but you until his return. He was yet to make you privy of the gravity of his feelings, but he was happy to know that you felt similarly to him, wanting to pursue something with him despite having been only best friends this whole time.

The days passed naturally, with a few performances taking up his time and keeping him occupied. Thoughts of you did not leave his mind, however. There had been no updates on your situation with your ex for the first week, nor had the two of you spoken too much. You were preparing for a comeback and he was busy with the short Japanese leg of his tour. The two of you had too many prior engagements to really indulge in what had happened the day of Mingyu's departure, which was something that kept him up at night. Neither of you had made mention of it in your texts to one another thus far. He was scared that his window was closing. You wouldn't do that to him, would you? Or did you think he was just trying to get his dick wet? People did assume Mingyu was a serial dater, dating women and immediately dropping them. Had he used you in a vulnerable moment? Fuck. All these thoughts kept his mind running like crazy.

He just needed you to bring it up first, then he could finally get some clarification on the current state of your relationship. All he wanted was to hear something of substance from you following your separation, but there had been nothing he could cling to thus far.

It wasn't until the eighth day of his stay in Japan that he finally received the first phone call from you. Not a text, but finally a verbal form of communication.

"Hello?"

"Baby! Hi! How have you been?"

"Hi, Gyu. I'm good. How's everything going? Having fun?"

"Yeah. Miss you, though. Uh, been waiting for you to call, actually. Didn't wanna be pushy or anything. Fuck, sorry. I'm being pushy right now, aren't I?"

"No, Gyu. It's fine. I actually did call you about that ..."

"Oh. Did you ... did you talk to him?"

"Yeah. I just got back from his place. It took me a while to reach him, but, uh, yeah, we spoke."

You were being evasive, he could tell. The myriad of possible reasons as to why had his heart racing. He was never one to feel nerves around a girl, but you were the sole exception. He'd always been secure of your friendship, but every time his feelings for you would invade his mind – just like right now – he would panic and not know how to work his way through a simple conversation.

"How did it go?"

"He kissed me."

Oh.

He had no response for that. He knew he should've expected something like this. I mean, what kind of man would let one argument get in the way of being with you? Except there had been a Mingyu-shaped obstacle in the way now, and he was not planning to get out of the way. It still made his heart drop, however. The thought of his lips on yours after Mingyu had finally claimed you as his made a frown find a way onto his face.

"I'm sorry, Gyu. He did it as soon as he let me in. I guess he wanted to try and make up for the fight with sex, or something. I stopped him, though," you sighed, "I told him it was over. That it had been for a while. He put up a fight, begged for me to say, but I couldn't do it. Not after what we did ... It was horrible, Gyu."

"I'm so sorry. I can't imagine. I wish I'd been there for you, I should've taken the brunt of it, I-"

"I didn't bring you up," you interrupted, "It felt mean and disrespectful. We were still technically together when we slept together. I- I couldn't do that to him."

"Oh. I ... I understand, angel. It's okay, it's over now. Now we can move on together. It's okay if it takes you a while, I'll wait."

A few seconds passed until he heard a response from you.

"Mingyu ... What are we doing? I can't do this to you, I- I can't get you involved in my mess like this. I'm sorry I made you an accomplice to my cheating. I care about you so much. I didn't mean to use you when I was just sad and vulnerable."

"You .. you what? Baby, it's nothing like that! You didn't cheat, you weren't together. I don't care about any of that, you know that!", it was difficult for him to not get exasperated right away. Where was this coming from?

You were clearly getting emotional too. He could hear your sniffles and the dejected tone of your voice.

"I can't make you my rebound, Mingyu. I love you too much to do that to you. You're my best friend."

There were those two words again. Best friend. He wanted to be your best friend until the end of time, but he wanted more. He truly thought he was more than that to you by now.

"I love you. So much. Please. We- we can't do this over the phone, okay? Please, just ... don't make any rash decisions like this. I'll be back in four days. Can I come see you? Can we talk about this?"

He didn't care how desperate he sounded as he plead to you. There was still hope that he could talk to you and make you understand how he felt. He hadn't given himself the chance to even try yet; life kept getting in the way. And he was sure you felt the same. The way you felt against him, your cries of his name, your sweet smile as he held you in his arms in the aftermath ... None of that could have been just due to a pesky rebound. No, it was all real, he knew it.

"Yeah, Gyu, okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put all this onto you. I'll see you when you're back, okay? I'm taking a few days off before our comeback begins. You can just come to my house whenever you're back in Seoul."

"Yeah, I .. I'll do that. Goodnight, angel. I love you."

"Love you too, Gyu."

The next few days without any communication from you had been absolute hell for Mingyu. He knew it was for the best; to not plague your mind with any more thoughts of him. You needed time on your own so that you could think. Mingyu, on the other hand, could've used the opposite. He thought of you nonstop. Those four days felt like eternity. Even as he performed and hung out with his friends, thoughts of you never stayed away from his mind for too long.

When the day of his return finally arrived, Mingyu was a wreck. Somehow he had been able to keep his turmoil of emotions a secret from his members. It was for the best, he thought. Wishful thinking had him holding onto the hope that the first time he ever brought up the situation to his friends would be by the time you were officially his girlfriend. However, this meant that the only person privy to his scrambled thoughts was himself.

With no one to ask for feedback or advice on the situation, Mingyu decided to just head straight to you. He had been in love with you for years, he didn't need to rehearse his confession to you when he'd already gone over it in his head endlessly times through the years.

Arriving to your door had been the worst of it. The ringing of your doorbell was followed by the sole sound of his heart pounding right out of his chest at hearing faint steps getting closer from the opposite side of the door. His breath caught in his throat as soon as you opened it.

He had seen you in all states, – from glammed up to recently awoken, both equally as beautiful – but the heightened emotions of the situation made him see you with rose-colored glasses (even more rose-colored than the ones he already saw you with). He had missed you immensely, that much was obvious. You had been gone for a month and had spent the best night of his life with him, only for him to leave for another two weeks right away. He realized now how much he'd been craving you these past few weeks.

"Hi."

"Hi, Gyu. Come in, please."

The air felt heavy. It was too serious for Mingyu's liking, but he was willing to do anything to show you that that night had not been just a fluke caused by your recent break up, even if it meant a grueling conversation in which he detailed the intensity of his feelings for you.

You two remained standing near the door even after crossing the threshold into your home. He wished to remain close to you; not allow you any more distance than you'd already had these two weeks away from each other. He was ready to talk the moment you turned around from locking the door, facing him as he looked down at you. He had meant to speak before anything else, he really did. It wasn't his fault that he had miscalculated his distance, ending up almost trapping you against the door. It also wasn't his fault that you looked so pretty as you stared at him with your widened eyes. What was his fault, however, was the soft kiss that landed against your lips just mere moments later. You had been at fault too, as you returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as you allowed him to push you against the door.

The kiss heated up a bit, but remained tender and sensual. Tongues played with each other as you breathed into each other's mouths. His arms wrapped around your waist, palms flat against the arch of your back. You fit perfectly against him. He hadn't enjoyed your kiss to the fullest extent that fateful night. He hadn't kissed you with the love you deserved. It had all been a mess of passion and lust, unlike now, in such a tender moment that allowed him to relish on every single sigh against his lips.

It was when he finally ran out of breath that he first spoke up, faces still just mere inches away as his hooded eyes looked into yours.

"There's ... there's no way you could possibly believe that night didn't mean something," be breathed, "There's no way you haven't realized by now."

"Realized what?", your breath was just as heavy, face tilted towards his as your lips remained within breathing distance of his.

"You really don't know?", his hands were running up and down your back, pressing you to his chest him with every swipe of them along the length of your back, "I've been discreet, but .. you have to know, right?"

"Gyu, tell me. What don't I know?"

"How indescribably in love with you I am," he whispered against your lips, swallowing your gasp.

"Were you playing dumb, angel? Making me watch you be with him as I waited for you to look my way? You must've felt it that night; the love I've been keeping under lock and key. You know, don't you, baby? You have to know."

"Gyu, I-"

"I waited for you for so many years. Waited patiently for you. And then came him ... But even then, I waited, and .. fuck. You finally gave yourself to me. Only for you to call me a rebound? Was I a rebound, angel? Does this feel like a rebound to you?"

Halfway through his confession, he had begun to pepper kisses along the side of your neck, drinking in every single sigh of pleasure you let out. This wasn't exactly the speech he had envisioned himself giving you all these years, but you were soft and pliant in his arms as he accused you of playing dumb to his feelings, so things seemed to be working.

"N-no ... You're not a rebound, Gyu, I ... Fuck, you're everything to me."

"Everything? Were you willing to throw your everything away just like that, then? Were you scared, angel? Scared of how much you felt that night?", he brought his lips back to yours, almost pressing them together but not really.

"Yes ... Gyu, I need ..." you chased for his lips, but he wouldn't give them to you so easily, no matter how badly he wanted to swallow any and all of your cries.

"I need to hear you say it. Need you to tell me."

"I love you, Gyu," you gulped, eyes glassy and beautiful, "That night ... wanted more. Needed more. I should- I should've broken up with him so long ago. The moment I began to compare him to you. He was nothing. He's nothing. I love you. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

He kissed you then, interrupting the rambles he had only ever dreamed of hearing from you. You'd thought of him? Wanted him to be the one holding you close at night? Had he known, he would've fallen to his knees the moment your heart opened up to him. He didn't care when your feelings for him began, he would've dropped everything in that moment to reciprocate.

"You wanted me? Were you waiting for me too, beautiful? Huh? Did you ache for me as I did you?", it was as if he'd burn if his lips strayed away from you further than a few measly inches. Every word was spoken against your mouth as you whined for his lips to find home against yours again.

"I need you .. Need you so fucking bad. Can I have you? Can I finally make you mine?"

This time you took control, dragging him down as you kissed him with everything you had to give, moaning affirmations against his lips. That's all he needed to wrap your legs around his waist and take you to your room once more. He had no time to waste. Knowing his feelings to be mutual was driving him insane, making his brain short circuit at all the implications behind your confession. Had you thought of him every night as he did you? Had these past two weeks been agony remembering every second of that night? If you felt even half as miserable as he did while aching for you to be his, then he truly needed to show you what he'd been wanting to give to you all these years.

He laid you on your bed, making quick work of your clothes as he unwrapped you, mouth watering at your nudity. His hands had their fun, feeling every soft inch of your body as his ears fed on every single whine whenever he'd pass by a particularly sensitive spot. His mouth was like a magnet the moment his eyes landed on your tits. His plan to make you cry as he abused your nipples with his lips had been on the back of his mind since that first night. He had wanted to go through with it now, but your cunt was begging for him just south from him, making him eventually get back on track.

You had been equally as desperate in getting his clothes off, feeling him up in a way that had him feeling filthy. Your desperation for him was making him lightheaded. The thought of being an object for your pleasure crossed his mind for a moment. His mind would've stayed there for a while had you not interrupted him with a whine of his name.

"Fuck me. Please, Gyu ... Need you so bad."

"Angel, need to prepare you, just give me a min-"

"No! I'm ready, Gyu. I promise! Just .. please ..."

Fuck. He couldn't hold back if you looked at him with those eyes, quite literally begging for cock to impale the pretty pussy that he'd been aching to have against his tongue.

With one hand, he grabbed onto his aching cock, using his other hand to position your hips in order to give him perfect access to your cunt. He used his dominant hand to drag the tip of his cock against your swollen clit, groaning at the stimulation against his slit. You matched his reaction by arching your back against your bed, begging him to please put it in. He could only handle a little bit of teasing until his cock finally began to push through your walls. Your cunt gave resistance, but you insisted that the stretch was delicious, begging him to not hold back.

"Feel so good ... Fuck, Gyu, you're so big ..."

He didn't need any type of ego boost, but your soft sighs at his size made his mind go blank, causing him to speed up his entrance, swallowing a loud whine from your lips to his.

"O- oh, fuck! Baby ... you're so fucking tight, shit!", he had imagined the feeling of your walls wrapped around him ever since he could remember, but no dream he could conjure could compare to the reality of it.

You were off worse than him. Your mouth was open and your eyes rolled back. You were practically a limp doll, mewling at him to 'please give you more' every so often. He just couldn't hold back at the sight, giving you everything you wanted with every single thrust.

He pounded into you so animaliatically that the your moans had begun to be drowned out by the sound of the headboard slamming against the wall. It was like the room was shaking from the intensity in which he fucked you, but you wouldn't stop crying for more. Mingyu's ability to think had died the moment he kissed you, which added to the myriad of reasons why he was unable to stop ramming into you even as tears clouded his eyes. At some point, however, he finally snapped back into reality, deciding to go for an intense yet more mellow pace.

He wanted to enjoy you; to see you lose your mind on his cock. Your pretty eyes staring up at him with tears welling in them made him lower his face down to yours to give you a quick peck. You responded by putting one of your hands on his cheek (which had previously been dragging its nails deliciously across his back) to keep him close to you.

"L-love you so much," you hiccuped.

"Oh, angel ... You have no idea."

He was close now. The mere affection behind your eyes had made him want to fill you up more than anything. And you seemed to be in the same state, as not even seconds later you began to beg him to let you cum.

"Angel, need you to cum with me, okay? Need that pussy strangling my dick, fuck. Please."

"Gyu .. Gonna cum. Fuck. Come with me, please! Want you to fill me up so bad ..."

"I'll give it to you, angel. I'll give you anything you want. My beautiful girl."

He pulled you even closer to him, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he felt you tighten up once more. His fingers had been toying with your clit the moment he suspected your orgasm was on its way, only accelerating the process. His load spurt inside of you the second your orgasm took over you, making him press his face even further into your neck whining as his hips went crazy against your cunt.

Your screams made him lose the tiny bit of sanity he had left, digging the soles of your feet into his back as you pulled him to meld with your body. The two of you shook against each other for a minute or so before you finally went limp. Mingyu immediately took action, positioning so you could cuddle into the bed. He'd worry about cleaning you up later (Maybe by taking you to your shower and burying his face between your legs). Now, he wanted to feel you pressed up against him as he caressed you and told you how badly he loved you.

You sat up a bit, although still being held in his arms, and looked attentively into his eyes.

"Angel?"

"I'm sorry, Mingyu .. I'm sorry I made everything so complicated. I didn't realize how much I liked you until that night and I was scared I had just used you without realizing it. I love you, I'm sorry."

His heart swelled up at the confession. He already had a pretty clear idea of your feelings after the past hour of making love, but hearing a confession come from your lips had been something he had always dreamed of hearing.

"Shhh," he held you even tighter, "I love you. There's nothing you could do to ever make me stop. If this is what needed to happen for us to be together, I'd go through it ten times over. Just wanted you to be mine."

"I'm yours, Gyu. I promise."

"Yeah? You know you can't get rid of me now, right?", he chuckled, "If you thought I was touchy before, just you wait."

"Shut up. You say that like it's a threat," you giggled against him, lightly smacking his chest.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

You spent the night holding each other and bantering in your bed. You finally spoke of everything surrounding your lives as of late, even touching on your feelings for one another and the respective gravity of them through the years. Mingyu felt embarrassed revealing the intensity of his own, but enjoyed the way you'd gasp and giggle at his commentary, so it was impossible for him to stop.

"Since pre-debut?? You really liked me since then?"

He cringed but laughed nonetheless, "Yeah ... I don't know. I saw your debut stage and I just couldn't take my eyes off you. I kept up with your group after that until Jungkook introduced us."

"Oh my god? Did Jungkook know? Did anyone?"

"Some of my members did, but I was discreet. You didn't like me back, so I didn't want to impose it on you."

You frowned at that, "Gyu, I-"

"Hey, it's okay. I got the girl now, didn't I? Took a while but now I get you forever. Nice trade off, I think."

"Were you this nice to all those other girls?", you were teasing him now.

You'd merely laughed when he revealed his dating habits to you. The ones he kept hidden to ensure you wouldn't assume him to be some type of womanizer. You'd even coo'd at him upon hearing that it had all been to keep his mind off you, promising that you were now all his, so there was no need to ever look at another girl.

"Yah! Stop. They don't exist to me anymore. Just like no other man exists for you, yeah? Just me."

"Yeah, Gyu. Just you," you sealed the unspoken promise with a kiss.

Keeping your relationship a secret had been entirely out of the question. The moment the two of you arrived to Hybe together that next morning, Mingyu had been unable to keep his hands off you. He didn't care if any artists or staff knew you were his (He wanted them all to know, actually). If he could, he would've even gone as far as letting the entire world know, but he wasn't quite ready to involve the two of you in a massive scandal.

Life had now become the perfect routine. He'd head to work to his dream job with his best friends, only being a few floors under the love of his live's workplace. It had taken him years, but he was finally exactly where he always wanted to be. He couldn't help but be reminded of that fact every time you stopped by his practice room to shower him with the affection he always wanted to give to you.

That young Mingyu watching you in the green room would've fainted at the mere thought of his current life.

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content: short drabble continuation to this fic, idol!mingyu x idol!reader established relationship, afab reader, smut, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2629 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Mingyu ..."

"Yeah?"

'Okay, first of all, personal space', you somehow managed to separate yourself from his tight hold.

You were currently sitting up against a mirror in seventeen's practice room. By some act of god, you and Mingyu always managed to somehow pay each other visits during the day. You'd befriended his members over the years, which meant that your presence was not uncommon even before you'd begun dating.

You had entered the room with plans to talk to Mingyu about something that had been bothering you for the past three months you'd been officially dating, except that your plans had been intercepted by the large man himself the moment he spotted you and dragged you to uncomfortably cuddle on the hard floor of the practice room. That's where you currently found yourself; hard floor digging against your ass as mingyu held you against him, keeping a hellish posture as the two of you laid back against one of the many mirrors in the room.

"Is there something you wanna tell me? Maybe about your previous relationships ..."

That piqued his interest. You didn't say it with any type of anger in your voice. You simply wanted some confirmation on some suspicions that had recently arisen. You knew Mingyu had a bit of a past in the dating area (something which he never spoke about due to feeling embarrassed by it), but you didn't realize how far it went until you'd attended MNET last week, only to be received with dirty looks by a few of the female staff members. You hadn't realized that rumors of your relationship had begun to circle around the industry (not having entered the general public yet), meaning that many staff members at venues often visited by kpop idols were aware of the high possibility that the well-known 97-liner besties were now something more.

This should not have come as a negative thing. Contrary to popular belief, idol dating within the industry was never much of an issue. Idols kept it hush, and most staff members remained either unaware or were too professional (or scared of repercussions) to ever really do anything with that information. You, however, had now been on the receiving end of one too many angry faces headed your way. It had even gone as far as staff 'accidentally' spilling your drink or messing up the settings of your in-ear. It wasn't until you had heard from your own company's staff that Mingyu had frequented a few of the girls working at MNET that you realized the reason why a metaphorical target had been put on your head.

You'd wished that Mingyu would've prepared you for this. I mean, you would've warned him ahead of time if he ever were to interact one-on-one with one of your exes (though that was unlikely, as you did not share Mingyu's serial-dating habits even before your relationships), so you would've expected the same from him.

" ... What previous relationships?"

"Gyu! Don't play dumb. MMET staff? Really? Did you think it was a good idea to shit where you eat?"

"Oh, fuck. Did someone say something mean? Baby, I'm sorry, I-"

"You should've warned me before I walked in to work with three of your exes!", by now you had unglued yourself from him, legs still tangled but no longer leaning against each other.

You weren't truly mad. You really only found the situation ridiculous, but you had still wished you hadn't been so caught off guard like that

"I'm sorry! I didn't want you to think I was some time of .. whore. I did date around a lot, but it was never anything serious. I'm sorry, I'll tell you next time, okay, baby? Forgive me?"

He was such an idiot. Immediately pouting at you and pulling you back into his arms, knowing you weren't truly mad.

"Fine. But I swear to God, Kim Mingyu, if this happens again ..."

"Yes, Ma'am."

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nipuni · 10 days ago

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Alright, time to share my opinions about Veilguard!! I have both criticism and praise so bear with me as I jump from one extreme to the other 😆 spoilers ahead of course!

The game has a very rough start with the dialogue being formulaic and rushed and the characters overexposing. It feels like a heavy handed attempt at summarizing all of previous games' lore for newcomers or in case you forgot but it's so overdone it feels coddling and trivializes a lot of previous events. Luckily this gets better once all of the introductions are out of the way, though the excessive hints and clarifications continue until the end sadly.

The locations are absolutely incredible and very diverse!! This is a highlight of the game for me. There is so much detail and care in every map and there are so many of them. My pc is struggling to reach medium settings and yet everything looks stunning. The verticality of the maps is so imposing and the graphics have a very dreamy quality that I love. I also enjoy the maze-like structure to the maps, it's more linear but makes everything look a bit more intentional. The color and light direction was amazing, all the visual development really!! it has to be one of the prettiest games I've ever played.

When I started I have to admit it did not feel like I was in Thedas and it all felt a bit theme-parky, if that makes sense. A lot of previously important and established world elements that made Thedas what it is were overlooked or made irrelevant. But the more I played the more it started to feel a bit more similar to Inquisition, for better or worse depending on what you feel about Inquisition. But!! this also feels like a selectively sanitized version of Thedas compared to previous games. In it's attempt to stay safe and uncontroversial in some aspects it loses a lot of substance and it changes the tone. The surface level politics, ignoring previously established major societal issues and a tell-don't-show approach makes the world seem more simple and shallow with no grey areas to explore. ( the humor also falls flat and out of place often too, and WHY is everyone always smirking, enough!! godlike beings are destroying the planet please this is not the time for Marvel banter aaaa )

The pacing at the start is a bit of a mess. It is so fast it felt like jumping from one world shattering discovery to the next with no time to process. The characters also seem to underreact to important information and major developments. It felt like the game was rushing me through all this to get to the part of the story it wanted to tell me while I was still wrapped in my shock blanket trying to catch my breath lmao. I really like all the key story points they touched upon, I just wish they dwelled more on them to give them more narrative weight. ( though blaming every bad thing to ever happen on the Elves was certainly..a choice )

I think the writing could have used more subtlety in the first half and more boldness in the second 😆 but I loved the thematic parallels between Rook and Solas and how every quest informs the main storyline. I do wish Rook was given more impossible choices and put in more difficult situations that forced them to lie or betray their own to better drive the point home though ( listen I just love a Trolley problem!! we need more of those, I'm the Trolley problem's number one fan!! ) I feel like they missed the chance to put Rook in Solas' role and be as vilified and hated for it as Solas was despite their best intentions which would make Rook's regrets stronger and in turn make their escape from the fade all the more impressive and give them a better understanding of Solas to either use against him or earn his respect. The line 'they called me the Dread Wolf, what will they call you when this is over' from the trailers was so good I was waiting for this!! But everyone just loves Rook no matter what!!

But I feel like I stated too many negative aspects in a row so moving on to some things I enjoyed!

The characters were very lovable to me. The romances weren't as long or impactful as I would have liked but I enjoyed all the companion quests. Emmrich is a delight and his quest is so wild and fun. I loved learning about Nevarra and I was awestruck by the Grand Necropolis. The mourn watch was so interesting, it showed a whole new side of Thedas' lore I knew nothing about! and I loved Manfred! Davrin is so charming, he became a favorite. I loved his quest too and learning more bits and pieces about the Dalish was great, I wish we got more. Seeing the Wardens through his quest also made me enjoy them a lot. Assan was very cute too and I'm glad he was treated as an animal and not turned into a goofy Disney sidekick too much lmao 😭 Lucanis is hilarious. The fantasy Spain/Italy was a bit silly and off at times but he is very sweet! and I love the Spite possession, that was so fun I'm glad they kept him that way! Bellara is adorable, her first backstory quest made me cry and I just love a nerd! I wish the second part of her story was written better however, and she sort of devolves into 'it's hard, I wish it was easy but it's hard' dialogues too often sadly. Anaris and the Forgotten Ones' portrayal was underwhelming and anticlimactic which was disappointing. Harding is also very cute and her Titan plotline was the most interesting to me, I bawled my eyes out in her quest!! I love the dwarven lore of this universe I'm so happy we got more of it!! ( she also fucking died in my playthrough?! I was devastated what the hell 😭 'whatever it takes' WEUEUGHHHG I'M SO SORRY) Neve was a slow burn for me because of my choices in game slowing that relationship down ( saving Treviso I mean, perdón amor 🙏 ) but I love detective novels and she is such a badass I ended up loving her. Taash was unexpected, I didn't think they would be so young. The coming of age story was sweet, though I found myself cringing a lot too at the handling of it I have to admit ( and the Lords of Fortune in general, and the Antaam...and que Qun..listen- kajshfgf ) but I also enjoyed learning more about the first expedition and the Qunari in general despite the messy writing and choices. I also loved Antoine and Evka! and Strife! And I haven't even read any of the novels they are in 😆 also Mila!!!! and her dad oh my god and Felassan haunting the narrative!! speaking of haunting, I would have loved for Cole to be in the lighthouse too I think it would have worked well 🤔 especially with the whole 'reading Solas' secret diary' thing the game had going on lmao

Everyone seems to get along except for a bit of friction that is quickly resolved at the start, which is hmm missed potential? I would have preferred more tension personally. I enjoy the drama! gives me more to work with and gives you a better grasp on everyone's personality by contrasting values. I think they wanted to speed run a found family trope for the new hero to establish some emotional stakes early on but it ended up making everyone seem like a group therapy session instead. The group meetings also have everyone either state the obvious or repeat the same opinion or conclusion to each other, I would have loved these meetings to have more bickering, have people get mad and storm out and also get to listen to different takes on a situation. Make Rook struggle more to take the reins and keep the team functional, learning how to be a leader.

Speaking of Rook! ( who in my case has a northern British accent that I loved so much 🥺) They seem to have a very established personality. I was expecting more of a blank slate but I'm lucky that the personality they went for kind of matches what I would normally choose in a first playthrough. Though the lack of range in the choices is irritating and takes away some replayability and role playing potential. Rook is very supportive and selfless, I wasn't expecting this tbh! But it all made my Rook turn into the team's weird supportive necromancer mom so it worked out in the end I guess lmao. I can't wait to draw her!!

I was so overwhelmed by the amount of information we got about Solas and his past!! I was expecting answers but not these many and not for them to be such an integral part of the plot!! The game feels like it's about him more than anything else. His arc is the best written out of all. He is mentioned in every conversation, he's the main advisor and the narrative foil, you get to talk to him often, you work for him and with him and go into his memories it all feels so surreal to me lmao I love him so I'm delighted ngl! but also making the other Evanuris so cartoonishly evil makes Solas into such an obvious choice of an ally, god of trickery or not, that it sort of takes the decision out of your hands and makes some dialogue options and companions' opinions seem almost nonsensical. I have no idea how this game would feel to someone who absolutely hates Solas' guts honestly. I suppose I will find out soon enough 😆

About Solas' story, I loved it! I somehow also feel that I knew it already, all the speculation and theories that Solavellan fans were crafting for years were so accurate that it was all very validating. Even the wildest ones! Solas as the Maker, the elves spirit origin, Mythal giving him a body, the war with the Titans, the origin of the Blight, Solas being on your side as advisor, I can go on, we knew!! Also I have to mention this I'm sorry but they made him look so hot!! unbelievable. And the bloodied teary eyed pathetic look in the end ouurghhh I'm cheering and clapping!!

The romance conclusion was so lovely 😭 the Loki and Sigyn ending we deserved to such a mythological epic!! and open ended enough for all of us to cook!! and we got to see him fight and transform into the Dread Wolf!! and whimper and cry!! and bleed and love!! that's all I ever wanted, incredible we were really spoiled what the hell I still can't believe it 😭 GDL acting was brilliant as usual! the visuals were also incredible and exactly what I had in mind when I imagined where the story may go, the eclipse, the giant wolf, the glowing eyes, the Elvhenan ruins, the statues, even the hair lmao it all aligned exactly to what I've been painting all these years but better I was thrilled 😭

Solas backstory with Mythal also offers players that didn't romance him a chance to see him act out of love and show a side they wouldn't be able to reach otherwise and I think it was smart! also very tragic and sheds more light into all of his choices and words and his relationship with Lavellan too and the parallels and reversals and uughh thoroughly enjoying the emotional distress 👌

Pleasing both the Solas lovers and haters at the same time was always going to be hard with him being such a polarizing character by design and the world states being so different but I think they did a good job! at least from my side of things.

I think my favorite part besides the Solas related stuff was the Blight. I loved how horrific and gross and threatening it was! I've always loved the concept of the Blights and I'm glad it was such a huge part of the story in this game. I also loved Treviso!! has to be the most beautiful city in Thedas ahhh and the Necropolis!! the gardens!! Vorgoth!!! Kal-Sharok!!! I can't believe we got to see it!! and a Titan!!! the giant floating face of Ghilan'nain in the clouds??? and the huge archdemons and dragons!! oh and that warden dragon trap in the shape of a griffon?? and the giant blight tendrils!! the siege at Weisshaupt was outstanding!! and the floating panopticon castle situation in Minrathous uughh there is so much I loved.

OH I also enjoyed the Varric arc even though I saw it coming since the trailer it was still played well and it was touching 🥺

The ending felt a bit jarring to me in tone though, a bit too cheerful considering...the horrors. Over half the continent destroyed and most of the problems Thedas had before the game are still there. Veil in place and all 😆

But I had fun!! I'm nitpicking really, the conclusion to Solas' story feels very satisfying to me which was my main worry so I'm happy. It is a good game!! with a sort of soft reboot feel to it and aimed at a younger audience which is probably what they were going for? You can sort of feel the struggle the team went through during production in the way the target audience seems unclear sadly. I also can't help feeling like this is an ending, so much was revealed and resolved!! but maybe I feel that way because that is what I felt after Shadowbringers / Endwalker in FFXIV once my favorite part of the story was wrapped? They can always pivot to a new continent and expand on the world and cultures we know almost nothing about, but that is always harder to sell so I have no clue where they will go from here 😵‍💫

Anyway I'm still processing a lot of stuff that I will probably talk (and draw) about later, this is already long enough!! for now I'll look up how to get the artbook because the art direction of this game is fantastic!! I would love to hear your thoughts too really, I'm curious about the experiences of players who made different choices and with different tastes to mine!!

#dragon age #veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age spoilers #veilguard spoilers #da4 spoilers #datv #nips blogs #I don't know what else to tag this there are so many variants #this critique is about the story and writing mostly not the technical aspects btw!#I'm aware some of these changes are unrealistic in terms of cost and time #this is a review not a rant or demand really! or it's trying to be #I enjoyed the game and will be replaying it eventually and modding the hell out of it 😌

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lurochar · 3 months ago

Text

Before It All (Pt. 3)

Warnings: Obsessive Alastor

Part 1 + Part 2

---------------------------------

It really was you.

His nameless Doe.

You seemed tense, clearly uneasy by the static he emitted and his presence alone by the looks of your erect ears and puffed fur of your tail.

(How cute, you had your clothes altered for your tail. A shame he hadn’t noticed it back when he had summoned you).

Alastor was now used to fellow demons being unnerved and frightened in his presence and so they should be, but you – there was no reason for you to be so anxious in his company, though he supposed he could understand it somewhat.

The power dynamics were completely turned around.

You had no advantage over him, he wasn’t that weak human anymore.

But still, Alastor didn’t like the fact you were so wary of him, so he needed to lighten the mood, break the tense atmosphere, and there was no better way than reminding you of your encounter with him when he was the weaker one, when you had the power over him, was there?

“How I’ve missed your wonderful ears, my nameless Doe.”

Alastor always did find your ears fascinating.

He may have his own pair of deer ears now and they had their uses – his auditory senses were vastly superior when compared to his human self, so much so, it took a week or two for him to adjust to sensory overload. They also gave any would-be attackers a false sense of security, he was just a deer demon, so he had to be weak.

Ripping those sorts to shreds felt much more satisfying.

But his ears were so damn sensitive to touch that Alastor had no idea how you didn’t just melt into a trembling mess when you allowed him to stroke your ears all those years ago.

He needed to move on from these thoughts before–

You blinked at his odd greeting, your body relaxing slightly from its earlier tensed position that had been poised to flee at any given second.

You blinked again.

And then you let out a loud yelp of surprise, springing forward when you felt icy cold hands playfully tug on your ears from behind.

–before his shadow acted upon them.

You reeled around to see what had touched you, not expecting to see a grin right up in your face and you stumbled back a bit, happy enough that you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of the Radio Demon/Alastor by letting out some sort of pitiful sound like a scream or shriek.

“I do hope you can excuse my shadow’s behaviour. The poor thing can hardly contain itself, seeing it is a reflection of me.” Alastor gestured the shadow away, which it did after giving you a last glance before it vanished. “Well then, should we do now what we should have done twenty-four years ago?”

You’re unsure what he is talking about.

“Introductions, my nameless Doe! Unless you prefer that name over your real one.” Alastor bows in a flashy way. “Alastor Hartfelt! But you already knew that, correct?” He stood up straight and eyed you expectantly.

“It’s nothing special, it’s just Y/N.” You shrug before eyeing Alastor intently and you hope you don’t get killed or worse for your question. “You just seemed like a miserable boy brought up in a miserable situation, so I gave you a pass. I thought if I got rid of your main problem, maybe you could live the rest of your life normally. You didn’t even make it to forty. What happened?”

Alastor hummed. “It would turn out that my father was only a drop in the bucket. After that wretch was gone from our lives, my Mama instilled in me the importance and value of women. Women are not second-class citizens nor are they property, but this way of thinking was uncommon and misogyny was everywhere.”

You think you can guess where this is heading to…

“I killed men, men like my father. Men who see no problem in beating their wife. Degenerates that stalked the alleyways for their next rape victim. For over a decade, I was the ‘Bayou Butcher’. It’s only due to the incompetence of a hunter that I am here now.” The expression on his face was that of delight. “I have no remorse. I thoroughly enjoyed every second of it.”

Oh.

It’s… it’s not what you wanted for Alastor, but you remembered that sheer hatred in his eyes. Something that deeply rooted wasn’t so easily erased, even if the main cause was taken out of the situation.

Unfortunately, you were not wrong in guessing Alastor would eventually condemn himself to Hell.

Fortunately, you had held onto Hartfelt for the past twenty some years.

You do have another question, but you know better than to ask.

Some demons don't care, but some demons can get quite offended if asked about their appearance and why they ended up looking the way they do. It’s personal, tied to their sins in life and their manner of death.

Asking Alastor why he ended up as a deer demon, a prey-based demon, could get you killed or maybe worse.

“I was mistaken for a deer by an inept hunter who took a shot before bothering to confirm what he was shooting at.” Alastor answers easily and casually, as if reading your mind and knowing what you want to ask. “Do not be afraid to ask me anything, my lovely Doe. I assume you heard my message on one of my broadcasts, yes? I meant every word of what I said.”

Lovely Doe?

‘I told him my name…’ You decided it didn’t matter too much as it wasn’t demeaning or degrading. You’ve been called much, much worse and on a regular basis by Hartfelt, so hearing an affectionate(?) nickname was a bit of refreshing change–

Should you be thinking that way?

Your ears dropped.

“Listen, Alastor,” you noticed his eyes seemed to glow brighter from you simply saying his name, “I messed up that day. I… I shouldn’t have touched you, let alone hug you. There are countless reasons why most demons don’t have free access to the human world. Contact with demons tends to screw humans up. Even just one night with a Succubus or an Incubus can fuck up humans for months and they’re low-class demons.”

Alastor simply tilted his head.

“I’m mid-class and… and I should have known better.” You sighed. “I think I messed you up in some way by touching you and letting you touch me.”

You were taken back when Alastor started to laugh and your ears flattened completely, slightly bothered by his reaction to your words.

Did you say something amusing?

“Oh dear me, you have twisted it all around in your worrisome mind, haven’t you?” Alastor chuckled. “So you have yet to realize you saved me and my Mama from that piece of scum I had to call ‘father’? My life even? Had you not killed that man for me, I would have made a clumsy attempt to murder that man, whether I succeeded or not. Such a thing would have cost me my life much earlier. I would not have been able to pursue my career and take good care of my Mama until her final days.”

You flustered, not sure what to say back.

“I lived my life the way I wished to because you freed me from that man. I am here in Hell purely of my own actions, though perhaps a little earlier than expected. You are very much downplaying what you are to me and I cannot say I care much for it.” Alastor couldn’t help the loudening crackle of his static.

“...okay…”

“Pardon?” Alastor’s ears twitched at the mumble of your voice, though he heard you just fine. He wanted you to clarify what ‘okay’ meant and look him in the eyes as you did so. He wouldn’t trap you in a contract like the fools whose souls he owned, but with his guaranteed protection for nothing more than just staying at his side and within his sight, how could you refuse?

(Though, if you wanted to give him your soul, he certainly wouldn’t turn it down).

“Okay! Maybe I didn’t fuck you up! Maybe you were… a little ‘different’ from the start!” You weren’t sure how to say ‘psychopathic’ in a nice way. “I still felt guilty about it this entire time. I hoped differently, but I knew you would probably end up in Hell.” You admitted, huffing when Alastor let out another chuckle. “So I did something to try to make up for it in case I did mess with your mind somehow.”

“Hmm, and what is that, my lovely Doe?” Alastor’s smile seemed to widen and it may be hidden from view, his tail wagged in excitement. “You thought of me, even before I landed myself in Hell? I must say, I’m quite flattered!”

“I looked for him as soon as I got back from the human world and found him before he understood how… things worked around here.” You didn’t feel bad in the least. “So I tricked him into making a deal with me. Shelter, food, simple basics for his soul. He didn’t seem used to living on the streets, so he took it right away. He didn’t understand what it actually meant to give your soul away.”

“Well done! What a delightful little tidbit! I had no idea if you would be interested in the art of deal-making. I would be more than happy to guide you. Why, I already own a great number of souls myself.” Alastor’s smile turned a little more sinister and he felt his blood heat at the thought of watching you trick some desperate fool into giving you their soul.

He would slaughter an entire district just to see that.

“I’ve… never really thought about it? I just do what I can to get by. Prey and livestock-based demons don’t have it easy in Hell.” You were sought out for your meat after all. “Anyway, I thought I’d make it up to you by – well, that demon whose soul I own is your father’s.”

The static around Alastor went completely silent.

You swallowed thickly, suddenly nervous. “I, uh, I always intended on giving you ownership of his soul whenever you ended up here, if you ended up in Hell. You can do anything you want to him, I have no intention of interfering if you… wanted to broadcast his torment or something.”

Shit, why was Alastor staring at you like that?

Was it the wrong choice? Did he want nothing to do with his father?

“W-WAH!” It was the most pitiful fucking noise you could probably make, worse than that earlier yelp when Alastor seemed to melt into the floor through a void of shadows and then reappear right in your personal space before you comprehended what happened. That was not the reason you let out a damn bleat before you could help it, though.

Alastor was stroking your ears just as he had done twenty-four years prior.

“A gift from you is always welcome, but this – I never imagined one that would bring me such… joy. Truly, you were always meant for me, my lovely Doe.”

“S-so, I take it you want ownership of his soul?” You struggled to get the words out, feeling your vision blur for a moment. You let out a breath of relief when Alastor reluctantly released your ears, but he didn’t step away from your personal space.

“Yes. I’m more than willing to give you a soul – ten even, in return. Mama may disapprove of it, but I will pay back a thousandfold and more for what that man put her through. He will suffer the worst torture I can possibly think of.” To your amazement, Alastor’s pupils spun into a shape that resembled radio dials before returning to normal.

“It’s a gift. You don’t need to give me anything back in return.” You blinked in surprise when Alastor poked your cheek, pinching it playfully before tutting at you. “What was that?!”

“You have been here longer than me, but it seems I must teach you a few good lessons.” Alastor held out his hand invitingly. “Before this transaction, would you like a tour of my radio tower?”

You placed your hand in his. “You’re going to have to explain it like you would to a child how this radio stuff actually works. I can turn my radio on and change the station, that’s about it.”

Alastor felt that chill that followed him all his life leave him and his smile felt genuine for very few times that it was as he felt your hand wrap around his.

He may be dead and in Hell, but his (after)life was looking rather bright – he still could enjoy his passion for radio and he no longer had to hide his true sadistic nature and homicidal thoughts. Better yet, he could combine the two and broadcast tortured screams for denizens of Hell to hear!

He was powerful and feared, toppling Overlords to become himself in an extremely short period of time and he owned multiple souls to do his bidding whenever and whatever he wanted – and soon, he could add his miserable wretch of a father to his collection to torment all he likes.

Best of all, he finally found you, the demon who made this all possible for him and now that he had you in his grasp, there was no conceivable way he would ever let you elude him. He could certainly give you the illusion of freedom and space if that’s what you wanted.

He was charming, he knew that, it’s all he needed to win you over.

Perhaps it would take a little time and patience, but he would get what he wanted in the end like he always did.

His lovely Doe. His new wife.

It was a dream that Alastor was going to turn into his reality.

----------------------------------------------------------

I hope this ending was satisfying

Tags: @alishii @yourdoorisunlocked @godsent69 @eris-norwega @catticora @tayraedoll @michi-keinz @martinys-world @n0tmentallystable @xalygatorx @everwolf-20 @yui-onnero

#alastor x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

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mistydeyes · 4 months ago

Text

a surprise house guest

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: The last thing Gaz expected to see in your shared flat was a baby in your arms and a mess in the kitchen, what have you gotten yourself into?

pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x fem!roommate!reader

warnings: swearing

a/n: hehe gaz roommate babysitting fluff! sidenote i've been babysitting and ngl kids are lil cuties like ahh

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

Gaz's relaxed and warm morning in his mountain of blankets was soon interrupted by the loud clanging around in your shared kitchen. He groaned as he tousled his messy hair and tried to look for his phone. "Jesus, 7 am, really Y/N?" he muttered as the bright screen of his phone lit up the room. He wondered what trouble you had gotten into while he was away.

You had been his roommate for about a year now but it felt even shorter due to him consistently being called away on duty and your busy work schedule. You were friendly, sure, and on occasion a bit flirtatious but at the end of the day, you were just another facet of his life. You were just someone to collect the mail, take care of the dust, and occasionally make sure his room wasn't crawling with bugs. You had somehow managed to accomplish such while doing it so attractively. Wait what was he saying, you were his roommate after all. Just a young professional needing a place and not caring about his infrequent stays. But on the other hand, you were his age and he always had suspected you might fancy him when you joked about sharing a one-bedroom apartment for "the benefits." His thoughts were interrupted by a loud "FUCK" and crashing emanating from the hallway. He hurriedly ripped off the sheets and ran down the hall to assess what was going on.

The last thing he expected was to see you, baby bottle in hand, and a baby on your hip. "Jesus!" you jumped as he emerged into the kitchen, "when the hell did you get home?" He relaxed, seeing that the kitchen wasn't on fire and you weren't fighting some early morning burglar. "Last night," he replied before returning to looking at the baby. He looked at it as if it was an alien, "was I really gone that long?" he asked almost afraid to hear the response. It took you a minute to process his question but you quickly covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. "Oh my god, no, no, he isn't mine," you said through laughs that made your sides hurt. "my kid sister dropped him off this morning. I agreed to help out and look after him for the day." With that, the baby cooed and tried to reach to hold your hand as you relented and looked back at Gaz. "I would have definitely cleared this with you, but I didn't expect you back so early," you sighed as you tried to calm the small bundle trying to put your fingers in his mouth. You took a brief look around the kitchen and noticed how much of a mess you had caused trying to prepare some milk, "I promise I'll clean up once I've set him down."

"No worries," he replied as he made his way into the kitchen to make some coffee, "I was gonna say you look a little too good to have just given birth." You felt your face flush and before you could reply or even give him an introduction to your nephew, the bottle of formula was knocked out of your hands. "Oh for the love of God," you swore as you realized your tank top and pajama shorts were now stained with milk. Gaz couldn't help but laugh as he looked at you in such a state, it was clear you hadn't had time to get ready for the day as he took a good look at you. "Not funny, little man," you chided the baby before you looked at Gaz with a smirk. Before he could protest, you guided the baby into his arms and ran to your bedroom to get changed.

"Bloody hell, Y/N," he yelled after you, "what am I supposed to do?" "It's a baby, Kyle, I think you can handle it," you said through your partially opened door. He heard a few more clangs as you struggled to find something not soaked in milk. He looked back down to the bundle in his arms, "What's your name, little one?" He heard you laugh as you continued to rummage around. "Kyle for fucksake he's an infant, he can't talk," you shouted, "his name is Ben if you were wondering." Ben cooed at the sound of your voice and squirmed in Gaz's arms. "It's okay buddy, she'll be back in a moment," he tried to reassure him as he rocked his arms back and forth. The baby grew more impatient and began to let out a song of high-pitched cries. You emerged from the room, now in a different pair of shorts and a shirt. Without a second look, you rushed into the kitchen and began to clean up. "Take him to the living room," you said, exasperated, as Ben continued to wail. "You owe me one," Gaz called out and you could hear him trying to appease the now crying baby. You shook your head before going about tackling the mess in the kitchen. Once you finally finished and dried your hands on the hand towel, it was quiet except for some babbles from Ben.

"What do we have here?" you said as you walked up to the pair settled on the couch. Both turned to you, smiling like a pair of twins. You had to say Gaz looked rather handsome as the light streamed in from the window in your flat. An unshaven 5 o'clock shadow complimented his face nicely. "I got it handled," he said cockily as you sat on the couch next to him. "Sure you do," you replied and mocked his tone, your legs brushing against his as sat. You soon realized that the reason Ben had stopped crying was that he was now occupied by a small sealed bag of crisps. He was shaking it around proudly and slobbering all over the plastic. You turned your head to look at Gaz with a deadpan expression. "What?" he said defensively, "he likes it!" You let out a laugh as you crumbled back onto the couch and watched as Gaz held the baby on his lap. You couldn't deny, that once he got Ben to stop crying, he was a natural at this. You secretly envied the future, Mrs. Garrick. However, with Gaz's protective arm around the baby and you smiling right next to him, you looked like the perfect couple with a newborn. The moment quickly passed as you looked down at your hand. "Oh I have his bottle," you said and motioned for Gaz to pass you the baby. "Come here, love," you cooed and slowly rocked him in your arms. You set your feet on top of Gaz's lap and sang a soft little lullaby to calm the infant.

After watching the baby drink the formula at record speed, he was finally asleep in your arms. "Finally," you groaned as you watched his little eyelids flutter. You leaned back in the crook of the couch, making sure he was fast asleep before you looked back at Gaz. He had a sense of wonder and awe in his eyes as he looked up at you. You slowly moved Ben into the small lounger cushion your sister had brought and stretched out of exhaustion. "Thanks again," you whispered as you motioned for Gaz to follow you back to the kitchen, "I really appreciate it." He nodded in response and leaned against the counter, closing his eyes in a moment of peace. You stood next to him and placed your head against his arm. You could feel him slightly react to your action but soon relax as he looked down at you. To both of you, it felt oddly comfortable to be like this. "Welcome home, by the way," you said, finally acknowledging his return "Sorry about this whole mess." He smiled as you met eyes and then let out a low chuckle. "It's alright, I got caught up in watching you play Mummy today," he joked, slightly tussling your hair with his free hand. You blushed briefly at the compliment but you soon found yourself wrestling his arm to stop. You ended up placing it securely around your shoulders and held it in place to prevent any further assault.

"I'm serious," Gaz defended as he relaxed his confined arm, "you look like a natural with him. You looked up at him and decided to test the waters, just a tiny bit. "Oh really now?" you challenged, "something about this situation gives you baby fever?" Now Gaz was the one with a subtle blush on his cheeks as you smirked at his reaction. "Let's go on a date then, love, and find out," he blurted, seemingly without any hesitation. You tensed a bit as you processed what he was saying. "You asking me out now, Garrick?" you questioned, turning your body to look at him. "Maybe I am," he whispered, moving a piece of hair out of your face and moving his hand to cup your face. As time moved slowly, you stood on your tippy toes and moved closer to his lips. Just as the space was about to close, a shrieking cry filled the apartment. "I think he wants Daddy," you teased as you tried to hide your disappointment, "we'll talk about this after dinner?" As Kyle huffed away, you couldn't help but secretly thank your sister for the emergency nanny service.

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #call of duty #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #izzie is writing

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misswynters · 4 months ago

Text

Winter’s Embrace — Chapter One

Cregan Stark x targaryen fem!reader

[synopsis: You arrive at winterfell, you feel unwelcomed and like an outsider. You weren’t used to not customs of the north.

[a/n: i know, it’s always a targaryen princess switch it up! (pls this is my first time ever writing) and there’s barely any cregan x readers.

[word count: 2.5k?

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

next chapter |

Winterfell loomed on the horizon, its grey stone walls blending seamlessly with the winter landscape. As your carriage approached the gates, you felt a shiver run down your spine, not from the cold but from the uncertainty of what awaited you within those ancient walls. The North was a world away from the warm sands and fiery skies of King's Landing, where you had spent most of your life. Here, you were not just a stranger but a princess—a dragon in a land of wolves.

The carriage came to a halt, and you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. The door opened, and a gust of icy wind greeted you. Wrapping your cloak tightly around your shoulders, you stepped out into the courtyard, your breath visible in the frigid air. The guards watched you with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, their eyes lingering a bit too long.

Cregan Stark, who’s the Warden of the North, stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, his imposing figure framed by the heavy wooden doors. He was a tall man with dark hair and piercing grey eyes that seemed to see straight through you. As you approached, he stepped forward, his expression one of polite interest.

“Princess,” he greeted you, his voice deep and resonant. “Welcome to Winterfell.”

"Thank you, Lord Stark" you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I greatly appreciate your hospitality."

He nodded, his gaze not wavering. "I hope you find Winterfell to your liking, though I fear it may not be as comfortable as the South."

You forced a smile. "I am sure it will be an adjustment, but nevertheless i will get used to it"

The Great Hall was bustling with activity as servants hurried about, preparing for the evening meal. The warmth of the fire was a welcome contrast to the cold outside, but it did little to dispel the feeling of being an outsider. You could feel the weight of their gazes, the whispered conversations that fell silent as you passed.

Cregan led you to your chambers, a modest but well-appointed room with a large bed and a roaring fire. "If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask," he said, his tone formal.

"Thank you, My lord," you replied, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but then he simply nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

The days that followed were a blur of introductions and attempts to settle into a routine. The people of Winterfell were polite but distant, their mistrust evident in their eyes. You tried to make yourself useful, helping where you could, but it seemed that no matter what you did, you were always viewed as an dragon in a wolves den.

Cregan was kind but distant, his duties keeping him busy. He checked in on you regularly, making sure you were comfortable, but there was an unspoken tension between you. You sensed that he believed you were ill-suited for the harsh realities of the North, a delicate flower from the South who would wilt in the cold.

One evening, as you sat by the fire in your chambers, lost in thought, there was a knock at the door. “Enter,” you called, expecting one of the servants.

To your surprise, it was Cregan. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I hope I am not disturbing you," he said.

"Not at all," you replied, gesturing for him to sit. "Please, join me."

He took a seat opposite you, the firelight casting shadows on his chiseled features. "I wanted to see how you are adjusting," he said. "I know this must be difficult for you.

You sighed, staring into the flames. "It is. But I am trying to accustomed to the way everything is done here."

He nodded, his gaze intense. "You are stronger than you appear, Princess. I see that."

You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Thank you, Lord Stark. That means a lot."

For a moment, there was a silence between you, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Then, Cregan spoke again, his voice softer. "I understand that you are a dragon dreamer."

Your heart skipped a beat. It was not something you spoke of often, the gift—or curse—that you carried. "Yes," you admitted. "I have dreams of dragons and the future."

He leaned forward, his eyes searching yours. "Do you trust your dreams?"

You hesitated, then nodded. "I do. They have never led me astray."

Cregan seemed to consider this, then leaned back in his chair. "Perhaps, in time, you will find your place here. The North is a harsh land, but it can also be a place of great beauty and strength."

You smiled, feeling a glimmer of hope. "I hope so, Lord Stark. I truly do."

As the days passed, you began to find small ways to integrate yourself into the life of Winterfell. You helped in the kitchens, learning the recipes and customs of the North. You spent time with the children, telling them stories of dragons and far-off lands. Slowly, the walls began to come down, and you felt a sense of belonging start to take root.

Cregan was a constant presence, his support and encouragement a source of strength. He seemed to understand the struggle you faced, the weight of expectations and the challenge of finding your place in a world that was not your own. There were moments when you caught glimpses of the man beneath the lord—the kindness in his eyes, the warmth of his smile.

One day, as you were walking through the courtyard, a group of women approached you. Their leader, an older woman with a stern expression, looked you up and down. "Princess," she said, her tone respectful but cold. "We have heard much about you."

You nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety in your stomach. "I hope it has been good."

The woman shrugged. "Some good, some not. But actions speak louder than words. We will see what kind of woman you truly are."

You smiled, determined to prove yourself. "I hope I can earn your respect."

Cregan watched from a distance, his heart swelling with pride as he saw you stand your ground. He knew the road ahead would not be easy, but he had no doubt that you were strong enough to walk it.

One night, as the storm raged outside, you found yourself unable to sleep. The dreams had been coming more frequently, visions of dragons and fire, of a future shrouded in darkness. You threw on a cloak and made your way to the Great Hall, seeking solace in the warmth of the fire.

To your surprise, Cregan was there, staring into the flames. He looked up as you entered, his expression softening. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

You shook your head, joining him by the hearth. "No. The dreams..."

He nodded, understanding. "Tell me about them."

You hesitated, then began to speak, the words flowing out of you like a river. You told him of the dragons, of the visions of a future both beautiful and terrifying. He listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Those are just visions, what matters is how you act upon them and not let them get to your head” he said in a soft tone.

Tears welled in your eyes, and you squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Cregan."

He smiled, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "You are stronger than you know, Princess. And I am proud to stand by your side."

The days turned into weeks, and the snow outside showed no signs of abating. Within Winterfell, you began to find your place. You helped in the kitchens, worked alongside the maids, and even joined the training sessions in the yard. Slowly, the people began to see you not as an outsider, but as someone willing to share their burdens.

Cregan watched with growing admiration. One evening, as you sat by the hearth, he joined you, his presence a comfort in the cold.

"You've done well," he said, his voice warm.

You looked up at him, a smile playing on your lips. "Thank you. It hasn't been easy."

He reached out, his hand gently brushing against yours. "Nothing worth having ever is."

The thaw began slowly, both outside and within the hearts of Winterfell's people. The Northmen, once so wary, started to see you in a different light. Your actions, your kindness, and your determination had begun to win them over.

One day, as you helped prepare for a feast, one of the older women approached you. "You've done well, lass," she said, her voice gruff but not unkind. "You've proven yourself."

You smiled, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. "I’m glad i was able to prove myself." Cregan, watching from across the room, felt a surge of pride.

#house of the dragon #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan x you #hotd season 2 #hotd fanfic #hotd cregan #house targaryen #cregan fanfiction #house stark #jacaerys velaryon #winters embrace – mini series

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telvess · 1 year ago

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RoR: How they sleep with their s/o (headcanons) 🔞

Jack

Jack likes when you’re strapped to his arm at night. He has a habit of reading a bit of Shakespeare before bed, so being close enough to him that he can smell your shampoo is actually one of his favourite moments of the day.

When the reading time is over, Jack prefers to lie face to face with you and hold hands. Of course, he doesn't mind any other position where he can observe you.

Yeah, Jack is a little creepy because he likes to watch you sleep. He admires your beauty and hearing your calm breathing makes him happy because he never expected to have someone who felt so safe around him.

Since he's the last one to fall asleep, you'll probably wake up first. Jack doesn't mind if you wake him up with kisses.

Poseidon

Poseidon allows you hug him. Feel grateful. He ONLY does it because you’re such a crybaby and he is tired of your big teary eyes you constantly make. He thinks that hugging is useless and doesn’t provide anything, but just for your sake he can get through this��

STFU, POSEIDON. You love cuddling.

He holds you in a tight hug, with his hand on your back and your head on his chest. He likes to feel your warm breath on his skin, but - once again - he would never admit it.

Poseidon has a cold body, so you can use it as an additional reason to cuddle.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub will go to bed the moment he hears you taking a shower before sleep. He doesn’t care if he has something to do. He doesn’t want to miss the opportunity for a cuddle.

Beelzebub is a small spoon. You hold him from behind with your arm around his waist and your forehead resting against his back - he just feels wanted and that feeling kills him.

That being said, he would never ask you for a cuddle, but if you don’t initiate, he gives you that inpatient look over a shoulder. Don’t act dumb.

Beelzebub likes to listens your calm breathing. For him it's the best lullaby. Knowing that someone shares something as trivial as sleeping in the same bed with him is amazing to him.

Thor

He is a living radiator, so you probably don’t need a blanket.

Thor isn’t into cuddling, but isn’t against it either. Definitely wouldn’t say no to you. The important thing to mention is that Thor thinks cuddling is a good introduction to sex.

He prefers to lie on his back and have you on his chest. Considering how big Thor is, you'll feel so small when his arms wrap around you. He likes to touch your thighs and buttocks and kiss your forehead, so if you decide to return the favour and caress his face or muscular chest… you definitely won't fall asleep quickly.

Buddha

That guy is such a mess.

He will elbow and knee you in his sleep. I don’t think rolling him over would give you any good result. He is a heavy sleeper, so he'll probably return to his previous position in a moment.

Maybe he'll calm down a bit if you kick him. But please, play dumb when he wakes up in the morning and ask you where he got that bruise.

Apart from the disadvantages of sleeping with him, Buddha is really cute when it comes to cuddling. He treats you like his personal pillow, wrapping his legs and arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder.

You have to feed him in that position.

Loki

Sleeping with Loki is like sleeping with dozen cats.

Once you announce you’re tired and close your eyes, Loki’s intrusive thoughts will win. He will blow in your face and when you shout at him he will pretend to sleep.

Go on, roll over. How naive of you… Loki will start pinching your ass. Or steal a blanket just for himself. Or tickle you. Anything to keep you awake.

Yes, at this point you know that shouting at him only encourages him. You have to tire him out. And at this time of day, there's only one thing you can do to achieve it. Have fun.

Hades

How comfortable his muscular arms are around you…

Hades just gives these big protection vibes, so there’s no way he wouldn’t be a big spoon. He wants to hold you close, bury his nose in your hair and gives you few kisses here and there.

He can't sleep alone anymore since you two shared a bed together. Your company makes huge difference to him. He likes talk to you before sleep, whispers sweet things in your ear or tells you stories.

It happens that our king talks in his sleep. Of course, in the morning he denies everything because he knows he doesn't do it.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror x reader #snv x reader #ror hades #ror jack the ripper x reader #ror thor #ror loki #ror buddha #ror beelzebub #ror poseidon #udj #🔞#🔞.nsfw

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celestemona · 8 months ago

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒

and how they deal with their children and domestic life. part ii.

pairing: dad & husband! cyno, kaveh, alhaitham x fem! reader

cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, domesticity, fluff. pregnant reader is mentioned to introductions but not too elaborated. not beta read. a bit longer than the previous ones.

kazuha’s part | part. i

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

Cyno

If there was something that the General Mahamatra valued beyond justice and absolute truth, it’d be the loyalty of those around him without asking for anything in return. Cyno could count on both hands the number of people he’d risk his life to or who’d have his back, and to be honest, there weren't many of them. Thus, the passing of the years only solidified this philosophy, confirming that trust wasn’t something to be given, but earned — it being the reason why he only kept a certain number of people close to him.

However, this belief had also shown Cyno that some priorities were greater than others, and ensuring your happiness and safety became the main one of them all. Especially when you were also the one carrying his babies.

Your pregnancy announcement was unexpected, but the change in your husband's personality wasn’t. As your belly grew, you could notice that Cyno became a little more clingy with you, enjoying being by your side or placing his warm hands on it to feel his children's kicks. Though, the mahamatra also couldn't help but be more overprotective or bossy towards you, traits that seemed to have intensified over the months.

Cyno liked to think that his overprotectiveness was justified since not only had he become a first-time father but of twins. His bossy acts weren’t for nothing either. It was just because your husband knew you and your impulsiveness very well, so the slightest thought of the risks that you could put yourself out there of your own free will stressed him out already.

And this last one you seemed to do on purpose to test him since you had put yourself in critical situations more times than he wished to count.

So, to ease his worries and keep an eye on you, the decision to temporarily settle in Vila Aaru was mutually agreed, providing Cyno with a momentary sense of peace knowing that his very pregnant wife would be surrounded by competent and trustworthy people. And then, his children could be born in a comfortable and safe environment.

The decision couldn't have been the best because a few months later and just a few minutes apart, Aryan and Isaar were born on a cold night.

The leader of the Matras still can remember that it was when he was returning to the village from a patrol when he was greeted first by your painful screams and then by the sight of your sweaty and tearful figure. Your husband didn't think twice before taking Candace's place behind your back to give you the support you needed, sharing his strength with you and whispering comforting words in your ear.

Internally, Cyno felt more than terrified for this new stage in his life despite all the previous months of mental preparation. But as he watched in amazement Aryan in his arms and Isaar in yours, the mahamatra concluded that there were no books or scrolls in the world that could describe the feelings that coursed through his veins at that moment. There wasn't enough knowledge that could teach him how to be a father, and even so, he knew he’d learn along the way to be the best he could.

The first few weeks of adaptation were exhausting for both of you. Cyno was on leave from his position, being at yours and his babies disposal and dealing with most of the household tasks, which relieved you a lot. But if he ever thought that nothing would overcome the hardness of his work at Akademiya, the sleepless nights with his newborn twins proved him wrong.

It wasn't something he complained about or refused to take on, though. He preferred you to rest as much as you could after spending the whole day with the children — it was more his lack of confidence in dealing with the little ones in your absence that tormented him.

As time went on, however, what he thought were difficult tasks became routine, so he could say with some confidence that he had adapted to fatherhood quite well. The bond between father and sons was also something that developed beautifully as the days went by, and some mornings, you’d be greeted with the sweet sight of the General Mahamatra sleeping on the armchair in the twins' room while holding both of them in his muscular arms.

Speaking of the twins, Aryan and Isaar couldn’t be as physically similar to Cyno more than they were already. The babies, just a few months old, have already demonstrated that they share the same personality with each other, which they also take after their father — the stoic and slightly indifferent expression frighteningly similar to Cyno. Aryan was a little more sullen, refusing to acknowledge others' attempts to make him smile while Isaar willingly raised his arms to familiar faces with the intention of getting something in return.

While you watched them in disbelief, your husband smiled proudly. It seems his children were already good judges of character.

Strange in its own way, but a home full of love. That would be the phrase to define your family. Although both you had divergent methods of raising your children, the twins still had complete freedom of decision about what they judged to be right or wrong. Cyno would never punish his sons for their choices; instead, he’d wisely correct them. Even though outwardly he shows rigidity and authority, Cyno is quite soft when it comes to his family so he can't stay mad at you for long.

It was honestly a strange sight for many, mainly his subordinates and the scholars who knew the man's unorthodox methods of discipline very well.

Even so, they couldn’t help but admit that fatherhood suited him well. Strangely, but still.

They only feared the possibility that in the future the boys would develop a sense of humor as horrible as their father.

Kaveh

If they asked Kaveh what his greatest achievements are, he’d readily answer that there are three of them, although two had the greatest highlights.

Even if the architect was proud of the effort and dedication that led him to give life to the Palace of Alcazarzaray, the importance of the project seemed to be irrelevant compared to the fact that he managed to win you heart. After all, maybe there was nothing so disputed between men and women all around of Teyvat but to capture the attention of the Gem of Liyue. And in a way as ironic and simple as it seemed to be, Kaveh was the only one to be able to accomplish such a feat.

As the younger sister of the Tianquan of the Qixing, it wasn’t surprising that you were also known for your intelligence, elegance and beauty, so it was expected of your people that you’d marry someone with all these qualities and wealth that could satisfy your desires.

However, they didn't know you as well as Ningguang and how Kaveh came to know you, and so, it was unexpected news that resonated for weeks when you announced your marriage.

At that time, so much uproar from the press and liyuean citizens had made Kaveh doubt himself because, well… did he even have all the means necessary to provide you with a comfortable life? He was slowly recovering from his debts and had barely started building his own house. Compared to you who literally lived in a mansion and ate from a golden platter he had nothing.

Nevertheless, you assured him that no gold or mora in the whole world could equal the love you had for him, only his reciprocal affection was what you were looking for.

And because your husband cares and loves you so deeply, Kaveh couldn't feel anything but thankfulness when you granted him with the greatest pride of his life. His daughter, Zahra.

The baby hadn't even been born and was already very adored by her father. During your pregnancy, Kaveh had been nothing but a passionate and devoted husband, helpful and attentive to both you and her. His passion for art led him to challenge himself and bring only the best when it comes to projecting Zahra's room, as well as designing the crib and its decorations. You couldn't help but watch with a smile on your face as he worked hard to provide only the best for his child.

When Zahra decided to come into the world, your husband's tearful, fascinated face only confirmed what you already knew: Kaveh would be an extraordinary father.

“I swear that I’ll protect you from all the cruelty of this world. And even if the day comes that I don't have the strength to do so, I’ll still keep you safe”, he promised as he placed a kiss on the baby's forehead.

You just smiled with equally teary eyes at the sweet scene.

Kaveh didn't know the meaning of the word tired when it came to his daughter. The blonde man loved having the baby in his arms, and when it came to her basic needs, he was a great help by proudly taking on the tasks. In fact, in the first weeks of Zahra's life, he had refused to let her sleep alone in her new room, and when you insisted on putting her in her crib, Kaveh would spend the entire night by her side. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to his little princess in his absence.

You could just roll your eyes.

As Zahra grew up, she became an increasingly beautiful girl and was much loved by her parents. Her naturally rosy cheeks and golden hair decorated with barrettes or bows made people compare her to a doll. The girl has a beauty and features similar to her father, though her sweet and laughing personality is her own traits. Kaveh feared that one day the evil of the world would take away the melodious sounds of her laughter, but there was a slight mischievous gleam in her golden eyes that betrayed that she was quite clever too.

In addition to her parents' unconditional love, Zahra also has a close relationship with her mother's sister, who has a weak spot for her niece, and with her paternal grandmother.

Shortly before marrying you, the older woman had tried to invest more in her son's life, now making sure of participating in dinners, commemorative dates or holidays.

For a long time Kaveh believed that he wasn’t worthy of such happiness. After his father's death and his mother's estrangement, the architect had a single objective: trying to survive one day at a time, fighting his own demons and relying on what little was left of his savings. He had never considered himself a man of honor, someone who was worthy of having his own family and a home to return to. In fact, he didn't consider himself a lucky man at all.

And yet, he couldn't feel as fortunate as he did because through all the paths he took and decisions he made, one of them led him to you and gave him the greatest achievements of his life.

Alhaitham

Hardly anyone would admit it out loud, but your presence in the halls of Akademiya was as fresh as a breath of spring air.

As the new Darshan teacher of Haravatat, your intelligence and passion for knowledge were characteristics that not only your students came to admire, but even the sages themselves gushed praise about, which eventually earned you a reputation that spread throughout the dendro nation. Furthermore, your beauty and charisma only complemented your charm, so there were many hearts that you had caught along the way — and consequently also have broken, as the slight bulge beneath your clothes and the golden ring shining on your left ring finger made it very clear who yours already belonged to.

To say that the beginning of your relationship with the Akademiya’s Scribe was even the subject of an academic thesis would be an understatement given that Alhaitham wasn’t someone who was known for his friendliness much less cordiality. In fact, his disinterested expression and acid humor worked precisely as a mechanism to purposefully keep people away from him, and even his friends weren’t immune to his unpleasant comments.

But even though the question remained, the students quickly learned that this attitude would never apply to you.

Like a moth drawn to the light, Alhaitham was equally drawn to you, they concluded. There was something about you that just your presence was enough to generate a small and not so noticeable change in Alhaitham's aura, even if to others he remained as rigid as he was. Besides, the progress of your pregnancy had also shown them that the scribe was as human as they were, he just had a less flashy way of showing his concern and care for his wife.

What the scholars and citizens of Sumeru saw, however, was just the tip of the iceberg compared to the affection you received from your husband when the doors to your home closed. Although Alhaitham hadn't shown his excitement as openly as you, the scribe was internally happy to begin a new stage of life by your side. And you could see this in the number of maternity books and notebooks with notes organized in his office, in the meals he had prepared meticulously thinking about nutritional values or in the care he took to suggest and choose a simple and meaningful name for your baby.

His actions were small and discreet, but enough to prove to you that he already loved the child as much as you did.

Hakim's arrival into the world also showed you the efforts your husband would make for his son. With a smile gracing his lips and slightly teary eyes, Alhaitham allowed himself to express himself a little more in the face of such a beautiful moment. It wasn't something that even you saw frequently and, therefore, you’d certainly make sure to eternalizing the picture forever in your memory.

“Thank you”, was the only thing he could say to you while looking at you with enormous tenderness.

Despite the overwhelming happiness that coursed within him, the scribe also couldn't help but feel a little empty at his grandmother's absence. Even though the longing was something he had managed for a long time now, it was in moments like these that the lady's absence came back. He was sure she’d love meeting you and her great-grandson, but wherever she was, he also knew she was taking care of his family in her own way.

Furthermore, looking at you and the child that slept so peacefully in his arms, Alhaitham knew that there was nothing to fear and that his son would grow up in a home filled with as much love as he was.

Therefore, fatherhood wasn't something that scared Alhaitham nor did it make him doubt his ability to take care of his son. If someone asked him what his biggest challenges were, he wouldn't be able to think of any because every day he was faced with something new and learned from it. Plus, Hakim was a sweet and quiet baby, a mix of both parents' personalities. Understanding his child's needs was as easy as if they were his own.

Still so small, Hakim would be surrounded by reading and multiple knowledge, often being found in the arms of one of his parents while you were working or simply reading for pleasure. You discovered that the baby liked to listen to you or Alhaitham reading aloud, so it wasn't strange to find you or your husband somewhere in the house reciting some academic article with the little one within reach.

When the boy was old enough to sit up, that’d be the time when you’d return to teaching at Akademiya, and even if your baby's presence during classes had already been discussed and authorized, Alhaitham wouldn’t hesitate to take over his care — whether taking him to his own office or to the Sanctuary of Surasthana where he would spend hours enjoying the attention of Lesser Lord Kusanali.

You could say that Alhaitham is a simplistic man. He recognizes his flaws and knows that he came with many of them, which is why he distances himself from so many people. But it was in the moments when he returned home, returning to you and your son who were waiting for him with great enthusiasm that the man thought that there was nothing as perfect as his own home.

you guys will have to forgive me again but i did not beta-read this part (clearly) nor i'll have the patience to do so because i'm currently traveling at my granny's home and it's so hot here that i couldn't even write this whole headcanon without stop everytime to take a breath of fresh air. therefore, i won't have the patience to look for mistakes now. i'll let it with you tho.

also, i remember i've said in the last part that if perhaps i start to write a genshin dad series i'd write only for the first four man i came up the idea to. however, i'm hypocrital and slut for the sumeru men too so i couldn't stop myself but draft their children biography.

i really hope you've like it so far because, for real, alhaitham's part was the hardest one and somehow i feel like this isn’t good enough to be posted. nevertheless, thank you for your reading :)

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader #cyno #cyno x reader #genshin dads au #when they're dads

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sylusjinwoon · 6 months ago

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{ 169 }

selfish.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

alternate title: the five instances where jinwoo’s jealousy got the best of him.

{ so if i get jealous, i can’t help it | i want every bit of you, i guess i’m selfish… }

( 1 ) your introduction

jinwoo sung had been dating you ever since he first started out as a hunter.

being fresh out of high school with zero talent or ambitions, jinwoo figured becoming a hunter was the most natural route for him-

even if his skills and abilities were well below average, he had to try. after all, there were people that depended on him, and he refused to let down his sickly mother and little sister so easily.

he recalls the many failures and each low-level raids that he attends, with his supposed team leaving him behind on more than one occasion.

"fuck man, having sung on this raid is such a burden."

"i feel bad for all the healers; they have to work twice as hard when sung's around!"

hearing such words coming from his fellow hunters made jinwoo want to curl up in a ball and die. jinwoo truly hated being such a burden, but he just couldn't help it! even he was made aware of the sheer mediocrity of his skills, he knew that he could not give up...

even if it took him a great effort to hold back the tears that threatened to stream down his face each time he put his life on the line...

after a particularly grueling raid (for him), he barely manages to escape the gates with his teammates, the pain felt coursing through him being all-encompassing when he was first introduced to the gentle touch of your healing abilities.

he remembers that day with a perfect clarity, meeting your kind eyes as the warmth of your healing aura surrounds him. words of protests were about to fall from his parted lips, but the moment he truly sees your kind smile coupled along with the way your eyes were shining with unbidden mirth-

you had completely stolen his heart.

jinwoo had barely noticed the way his aches, pain, and deeply cut wounds were beginning to heal. it was clear that your high rank had been well deserved since he had never experienced such a potent healing power before. within what felt like mere seconds, he was entirely healed.

"are you alright, hunter sung?" even your voice was filled with an unconditional kindness he had never once heard before. in a way, jinwoo was grateful that the rest of the team left, leaving him alone with you as he didn't need to fear being mocked or judged by anyone else whilst in your presence.

jinwoo looks away from you, trying to hide his blush when he calls out your name in a bit of a stutter, "what's a powerful healer like you doing on such a low-level raid?"

he watches the way you look away from him, a wide grin slowly painting your features as you ran a hand across your hair.

"well... let's just say i wanted to know more about the weakest hunter in the world and decided to join you on one of your raids. it's a bit rare to meet someone that is a true, level-e hunter."

jinwoo could feel the blush of embarrassment dye his cheeks a deep shade of red, and he had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from crying right then and there.

you were mocking him, and he hated it!

he struggles to get back on his feet, but it was your gentle grasp felt on his wrist that ultimately stops him. "wait... i'm sorry, that came out as rude... ruder than what i meant."

you sigh and meet his gaze once more, framing at his face with your hand as you caressed at his cheek, "i meant that i wished to help you, to ease you of any pain that you may have sustained during these raids. i'm sorry for upsetting you, forgive me?"

unable to truly walk away from you, jinwoo remains seated beside you, fighting back tears when he felt you gently brush back his hair. he meets your gaze, feeling his heart began to pound not only due to just a crush and admiration-

but envy as well.

you appeared to be close to his age, barely 18, yet still, you managed to obtain a high rank with the healing powers that were awakened from within you the moment the gates appeared across the world.

and despite how jinwoo knew that he would forever berate himself for standing by your side-

his heart just couldn't take the thought of you belonging to someone else...

( 2 ) during a raid

jinwoo counted all the trials and tribulations he faced during the double dungeons as both a blessing and a curse. and truly, he was glad that you were busy with a high level gate that day and was not assigned as his healer.

when he manages to survive such a grueling experience, being reborn in the process, he made sure to keep you in the dark. you, despite being his girlfriend for close to 6 years now, hadn't the slightest clue about how he had literally died that day-

only to be resurrected as the system's latest player.

throughout the following months, he spent the vast majority of his free time doing odd end dungeons only he had access to all while leveling up each time.

each experience he gained not only helped with him leveling up, but also hardened his resolve to perform dark acts that his usual self would never even consider-

things like...

murdering others for the sake of his own survival,

ingesting copious amounts of various poisons in order to cheat death and develop an immunity to them,

and pushing his body to the limits in hopes of being a man that was more suited to stand by your side.

throughout the months he became a sole player for the system, you were the one who had seen his metamorphosis firsthand, watching him with an almost curious expression that paints your features.

of course, you were happy for him, not minding nor questioning the fact that your boyfriend seemed to be growing stronger with each raid you attended with him. now that jinwoo had become much stronger than before, he was able to join you on various, high level raids that required your abilities as an s-rank healer.

and truly, he was just so happy to be able to remain by your side.

however, there was one major problem that kept bothering him, and that was how strangely... popular you were with hunters of the opposite sex.

perhaps the most obnoxious of the bunch was kim chul of the white tiger guild. each time he would see you on a mutual raid, he would try to flirt with you in an almost shameless manner.

"c'mon, that pipsqueak surely can't satisfy you like i can. why don'tcha leave him and come with me, babygirl?"

jinwoo had simply came back with some coffee in hand when he sees your form being hidden by kim chul's. his fists tighten in response, seeing the way your expression shifts into discomfort and disgust, trying to move away from him, only to be trapped even further against his gaudy heavy armor and the wall.

allowing his anger to push him forward, jinwoo dashes closer to you (his movements as smooth and silent as a shadow's) when he takes a hold of your wrist and manages to successfully pry you away from kim chul.

the tanker's eyes go wide momentarily before narrowing with rage.

"you damn e-rank! you think you're better than me because you're dating her? your scrawny brain cannot even comprehend how she's only with you out of pity!"

admittedly, kim's words struck a nerve within jinwoo, making his entire body stiffen had it not been for you keeping a tight only on his shoulder, preventing him from leaving your side and doing something he was sure to regret-

but he supposes kim chul got what he deserved when he died by igris' hands.

( 3 ) while on a date

wishing to treat you to something nice for your latest anniversary, jinwoo had went all out today.

from taking you to your favorite stores and allowing you to indulge in a café you frequented at for lunch, it truly was the perfect day for you.

and jinwoo made sure that nothing could ruin your anniversary.

from ignoring his so-called fans that tried to stop him for pictures and autographs to putting his phone on airplane mode so that the association wouldn't bother either you or him on this special day... jinwoo was completely serious about giving you his undivided attention on this special day.

yet that all seemed to crash down on him when he takes you out to dinner at a pretty well-known restaurant. jinwoo had made reservations several months in advance, and thanks to his newly attained status as the world's strongest hunter, the restaurant kept his reservation this entire time, never once cancelling it or changing it to a later date.

filled with anticipation for what he believed would be the perfect end for the night, he basks in the way your eyes drink in the gorgeous cityscape of seoul, admiring the lights that seemed to shine like diamonds from beneath the moonlight.

he had a gift hidden for you within the confines of his dress pants; a diamond necklace that he was sure would look perfect against your flawless skin. with every intention to give you such a gift once you were able to enjoy your dessert, jinwoo kept practicing what he was going to say inside of his head.

however, the damn waiter kept distracting him. throughout the entire night, he kept his attention solely on you. not even realizing how the waiter kept flirting with you, you were truly left in the dark.

upon giving you and jinwoo the menu, you had a difficult time determining what to order and asks the waiter for his advice. jinwoo could feel his grip tighten around his wine glass, nearly breaking it within his grasps as the waiter dared to place a hand on your shoulder, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear.

"well, my lovely flower, how about i recommend the following three course meal for you to enjoy..."

your eyes go wide upon feeling his proximity, and you did your best to move away from the waiter as he kept whispering his recommendations to you.

"a-alright, that sounds good to me. i'll take that..." you barely heard what the waiter said, being completely focused on jinwoo's glowing, purple eyes and scowling face.

"perfect." the waiter manages to whisper in your ear (not even looking at jinwoo) before standing back to his full height. clearing his throat, he finally meets jinwoo's gaze, giving him a look of disdain while asking flatly.

"and for you, sir?"

"i'll have whatever she's having." jinwoo tells the waiter swiftly, tone retaining some semblance of tranquility when in all actuality, he was planning that damn waiter's demise.

the waiter nods and takes away both of the menus; and with his back turned was when jinwoo stands from his seat.

"wait, love, where are you going?" ah, you seem to know him all too well, your voice filled with concern when jinwoo stands back to his full height. flashing you a strained smile, he adjusts the collar of his dress shirt, "relax, my love, i just need to head to the men's room real quick."

not waiting for your reply, jinwoo allows his dress shoes to tap loudly against the expensive, marble flooring of the restaurant, eyes never once looking away from the obnoxious waiter.

stalking the waiter, jinwoo reaches out to grab his shoulder with a large hand, pulling him aside, his eyes burning with an unnatural purple glow. the poor man never even stood a chance, practically trembling now as his knees threatened to give way to his weight when he was suddenly subjected to jinwoo's violent gaze.

"if you want to keep your job." jinwoo's whispers harshly against the waiter's ear, "i highly suggest you switch tables with a female coworker."

acting like a guilt-ridden dog with his tail between his legs, the waiter lets out several, apologetic stammers before running back into the kitchen, never once daring to look back at him.

a few minutes later, when jinwoo returned, he was quite pleased to see a young woman serving them their meal. and when you flashed him a look of suspicion, jinwoo merely shrugs innocently while taking sips of his red wine.

( 4 ) when kim chul -iron- reborn as a student first sees you

the war had been won-

but it still wasn't enough for jinwoo.

wishing to save the entirety of the world while placing the burden of the war solely on his shoulders-

jinwoo uses the cup of reincarnation.

he basks in enjoying a few years of his youth before locking himself within the dimensional rift, taking on each and every monarch along with his shadow army. he spends a total of 27 years within those depths, not stopping until all of his enemies were slain.

only when all of the monarchs were annihilated did jinwoo return back home...

grateful that he had been missing for a mere 2 years in the real world, jinwoo was happy that his family were still loving and ecstatic to see him again (even if it meant he would be grounded until further notice).

but truly, jinwoo didn't mind such a minuscule punishment, since this meant he could spend the rest of his life doing what meant the most to him-

with the promises he made to the rulers fulfilled, now, he was able to focus on what he found to be the most vital part of his life-

now, he could find you again,

as if he were further being rewarded for his hard work, you suddenly came to his high school as a new transfer student during his second year of school (while sharing his same class as well!). when he sees the empty seat near the back row, he quickly demands that his peer switch seats with him (using his skills as the shadow monarch to push convince the poor boy away) so that he could spend some time getting to know you once more the moment you take your newly assigned seat.

despite being a normal human in this newly revised timeline, jinwoo could tell that you felt... conflicted when it came to him. you did your best to keep your distance because of how introverted you were, but jinwoo refused to give up on you. his constant presence and persistence in your life manages to win your heart once more.

with you in his arms again, it came as no surprise that jinwoo would wish to show you off, more often than not allowing you to attend his track meetings as he basked in your awed gazes each time he ran (also serving as a reminder to his teammates that you were already taken).

when he told you to accompany him to his first competition, you agreed to watch him without a hint of hesitation. you were truly excited to see all of his practice be put to the test and looked forward to further supporting him.

upon arrival at the place where the competition would take place, jinwoo was struck with an almost nostalgic feeling, seeing iron kim chul standing before him. his eyes go wide as he could hear his soldier's excited whispers of iron's name.

kim chul was doing his stretches, appearing almost bored when he catches sight of you standing next to jinwoo. but kim pays jinwoo no mind to the young monarch, letting out a low whistle as he admires your form settled beside him.

"woowoo, i'll be right back. i need to head to the restrooms real quick."

your words break jinwoo out of his reveries, "oh, i'll go with you..."

before jinwoo could adjust his duffel bag to hold your hand and follow you, you hold out a hand to him, stopping him from coming any closer to you. "i'll be fine, jin. besides, the restroom's are literally right there, and your coach wants to talk to you and your team. i think you should stick around to listen."

a pout paints his features, earning a giggle from you as you lovingly ruffled at his hair.

"be right back!"

"fine..." with an almost lovesick expression, jinwoo watches you walk away from him...

yet all feelings of warmth ceases to exist when the bulky body of kim chul trails close from behind you.

jinwoo's fists were clenched now, with his coach's words going into one ear and out the other. allowing his duffel bag to fall against the ground, he follows kim chul, catching up to him with his abilities as the shadow monarch.

within a blink of an eye, jinwoo stands directly in front of kim, making the brawny young man openly gape at him. "what the... you were all the way over there... how did you-"

he gasps, feeling the effects of jinwoo's telekinetic abilities course through him when he was suddenly slammed against the wall.

"listen closely and listen well; you tried to pick a fight with me because you wanted my girl, and found out that i'm the son of your father's friend's friend's friend. you then chose to forget the negative emotions of jealousy you felt towards me... and now, you'll live more kindly from now on."

with a snap of his fingers, he allows kim chul to slump back to the ground, as if in a sleepy haze as he let out a groan in response. in what seemed like perfect timing, you appear beside him, already placing your hand within his as you looked down at the passed out kim chul.

"huh? what happened, jinwoo?"

"it's nothing." jinwoo takes you away from kim, who was now rousing from his momentary slumber with a look of confusion painted against his features. jinwoo lies tells you that he was simply helping the young man feel better after experiencing a bit of heat stroke by giving him some water and putting him in the shade of the bleachers.

"aw, you're so sweet, woowoo!" hiding back a smirk, jinwoo allows your pretty lips to press several kisses against his features as he made his way back to his teammates and couch, ready to compete.

( 5 ) when you gave birth to his child

"mr. sung jinwoo, you may come and see your wife and son now."

jinwoo had spent the latter part of the night constantly pacing the waiting room. your water had broke in the middle of the night, making jinwoo avoid taking his car in his panic as he carried you, using his shadow exchange ability to warp you to the nearest hospital.

his panicked cries echo throughout the facility, and he could only watch with helpless eyes as you were whisked away into a wheelchair, your cries of pain were all that he could hear as his heart began to sink, filled with anxiety at what was to come.

he lost track of time how long you had been in labor, but it had to have been an arduous process since it was now getting closer to the early hours of the afternoon. with stiff movements, he follows the nurse, hoping and praying that you would be okay.

the moment the nurse takes him to your hospital room, and he could see your fatigued form bathed in the sunlight as you held his son in your gentle embrace, jinwoo nearly fell to the floor just then.

tears of joy kept streaming down his face when he sees your tired expression cooing down at the tiny baby in your arms. your eyes were filled with so much love for your son that it was enough to make jinwoo's heart clench almost painfully in response.

your name comes from his lips in broken syllables, and you smile back at him, scooting over just the tiniest bit so that jinwoo could crawl into the hospital bed with you.

overwhelmed with such emotions of love for you and his son, jinwoo was unable to form coherent words, simply hiding his face against the curve of your neck with his arms loosely wrapped around your frame.

"hehe, what's this? has the almighty shadow monarch been rendered to tears at the sight of his baby boy?"

"s-shut up, so what if he is rendered into the biggest crybaby?" jinwoo couldn't stop a laugh from escaping him despite his tears. he sniffles and leans over to brush back your damp hair, pressing a lingering kiss against your skin before taking this chance to admire his son.

his heart melted upon seeing the mere sight of him. his son was pretty much a mini version of jinwoo, and he could tell that he sported his same head of thick, black hair. and despite how his eyes were closed, all scrunched up while looking ugly and cute at the same time, jinwoo somehow knew that he would have his grey eyes, too.

you take this chance to tease your husband a bit, "i know how jealous you get but... i'm afraid i love this precious baby boy a little bit more than how much i love you. after all, i went through such pains to help bring him safely into this world."

jinwoo simply shakes his head in response, taking a hold of your chin so that he could press a kiss against your parted lips. and while he was kissing you, he couldn't help but bask in the wonderful feeling of his family growing-

now, jinwoo can finally admit (with confidence, too!) that only his son and future children were allowed to freely obtain your love and devotion without eliciting such raw emotions of envy from him.

a.n. - i had been wanting to write a story based on j.t.'s song { selfish } for jinwoo, since the song is soooo jinwoo coded! 🥹 currently unedited, but i hope that you readers enjoy it all the same!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #.stories

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princessoflalaland · 6 months ago

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Fiancé Nanami

content: fluff and smut, some degradation, oral (m), doggy style (our second fave position), creampie (I told you I want his babies)

a/n: this is reminiscent of how i was raised by a single parent, so that’s why the dad is not involved. thx to @teddybeartoji for giving me the idea based off this post.

surprisingly, your family had only met Fiancé Nanami a handful of times, despite you two practically being joined at the hip. it was those seldom interactions that planted the seeds of doubt in his mind that he wouldn't be able to appease to your mother.

Fiancé Nanami who, while fussing with his favorite tie in the mirror as you two prepared to drive across town to have dinner with your mother, couldn't help but to grow frustrated when his clothes wouldn't cooperate. this caused you step in and fix it for him, trying to calm him down as you do.

"you really don't need to worry, honey. my mom will love you, I just know it." that cliché line managed to soothe the worst of his nerves. he held your hips and watched you earnestly as you tightened his tie.

"thank you, darling. I just...I don't want to disappoint anyone tonight, especially not the woman who raised my beautiful wife-to-be." his deep, silky voice and sentiments made your heart skip.

Fiancé Nanami who, despite your encouragement, still felt worry linger in the back of his mind. he was rigid the entire drive to your mom's place.

Fiancé Nanami who could barely keep his eyes off you as you two made your way up the stairs to your mom's cozy townhome. the way your dress hugged your body, the sweet perfume you wore temporarily distracted him from how his stomach had knotted itself too many times for his liking. you could practically feel his anxiety beneath his warm skin, so you gave his hand a squeeze and offer him a bit more reassurance.

"I need you to look at me," you demanded softly. you two were right in front of the door, crickets beginning their evening symphonies filled the air. your fiancé could feel his heavy pulse in his ears, but brought his attention to you anyway, finding comfort in your steady, gentle gaze.

"everything is going to be fine. even if she doesn't like you, which I doubt because you're the greatest, most respectable person i've ever known, that won't get in the way of our plans. i'm still going to marry you, I'm still going to be Mrs. Nanami and have all your kids." his heart swelled at your words, and he leaned down to kiss you.

Fiancé Nanami who kindly and gently shook your mother's hand when she opened the door. he was a tall individual, so your mother's head moved up and down as she gave him a once over. he swore his tie began to strangle him under her careful stare. after introductions, you two were lead inside to the dining room, his hand still secured in yours.

Fiancé Nanami's articulate speech and gentlemanly mannerisms won your mother over quickly. they engaged in deep conversation about his career as a successful CEO and your mother's career, as well as the current status of your relationship. he took this as his opportunity to gush about how enamored he is with you. your mother would glance over at you from time to time as if to telepathically say: "I don't know where you found him, but i'm glad you did. he's definitely a keeper."

as the night wore on, however, Fiancé Nanami was finding it hard to focus when your hand casually rested on his thigh under the table. what started off as a mere touch of endearment became much more. rubbing your palm up toward his crotch, letting it simultaneously slide inwards, your fiancé had to fight to keep up his respectable demeanor.

Fiancé Nanami who was finding it harder to focus on the topic of discussion because your hand had so callously wandered over his bulge, your manicured fingers tracing the outline. he cut a glance over to you find you completely unfazed; in fact, you looked invested in what your mother was saying. meanwhile, he was doing everything he could to keep his breath steady and the pink tint out of his cheeks.

Fiancé Nanami who looked both ecstatic and bewildered at your mother's offer for the two of you to stay the night. with the way you were teasing him, all he was able to think about was getting you home and ravishing you until dawn. your mother broke through his thoughts: "it's late, and I wouldn't want you two to worry about the drive home. please, stay, I insist." who could turn down that kind, motherly tone? certainly not the two of you.

Fiancé Nanami who only marveled at your girly childhood room and its keepsakes for so long before you threw yourself on him. he returned your deep, fervent kisses, tasting your mom's cooking on your tongue.

"darling, slow down," he huffed against your lips as you fumbled with his belt and he with your dress zipper. "we can't make too much noise..."

you responded with a simper, one that had him straining against his dress pants. "then you better keep quiet."

Fiancé Nanami who was reminded how pretty you looked with your painted lips wrapped around his cock. you left mauve lipstick marks on his thighs, his pelvis, his dick. it was almost like art to him, the way you painted his skin like it was the most lewd canvas. he covered his mouth with his palm, his eyes fading in and out of focus as you slurped him salaciously.

"m-my love," his muffled words managed to reach your ears over the sounds your mouth made on him and your soft moans. "this is so wrong, doing this to me i-in your mother's home. nngh, God- ease up, I-i'll cum..."

Fiancé Nanami who quickly disregarded the risk of getting caught and possibly receiving a tongue-lashing great enough to make God cry, as you bent over your old bed, ass perked up for him. all he could think of now was how wet you must be at this point, how you've probably been thinking of this since y'all left home. hot puffs air condensed around his lips as he rubbed his tip against your slick folds.

"so wet. this what you wanted, love? to be fucked senseless in your old room, your mom just outside?" his husky, carnal voice only made you wetter. "am I really making a woman so slutty my wife?"

Fiancé Nanami who had to fight himself and you to keep you two covert. a big calloused hand was clamped harshly over your mouth that couldn't seem to contain its wanton vocalizations. his thrusts weren't as powerful as they usually are, the sound of slapping skin usually enough to let your neighbors know what you two got up to in the late hours of the night. his deep, slow strokes still had the same effect of making you want to remind those beyond your room walls who you belonged to.

"told me to me to keep it down..now look at you, fuckin cryin on my dick." you loved when he got vulgar, it made you clench around those inches of him inside you. "I know you want it deeper, honey, you want it harder, I know. we can't, c-cant make too much noise though." "but you'll still be a good girl for me right? you'll cum all over me like the good slut you are..." how could anyone resist that gravelly voice in their ear when he's balls deep in you?

Fiancé Nanami who lets go with a shudder and guttural groan, filling you to the brim with his cum, as your tight walls spasmed around his length. you cried behind his palm, eyes rolling back, toes curling. he littered kisses all over your neck and back, not daring to leave marks anywhere visible. with each heavy breath he released, he made it known how much he adored you.

"...love you..y'always so good to me, always make me feel like no one else has...I love you so much, my beautiful, beautiful wife..."

Fiancé Nanami who made sure you two took proper precautions before going to bed. he made you go pee while he bashfully sought out your mother, in his hastily put-on clothes, to see if she had clothes for you to sleep in. when he returned with one your mother's nightgowns, he'd heard the shower running.

"I got you some clothes from your mother, they're on the counter." he informed you before approaching the steamy translucent curtains. "can I join you?"

Fiancé Nanami who held you close after you both have washed up and have dressed as best as you can for sleep. he planted kisses over the crown of your hair, your temple, the corner of your lips. the feel of your fiancé's smooth lips on your skin helped you drift off faster. his low, silky voice was the last thing you registered before you were nestled comfortably in the embrace of sleep.

"sleep well, my love. thank you for tonight and all the wonderful nights to come."

#salaciousspa৻ꪆ #dividers by anitalenia #ohhh the pink is so pretty #this is all factual #this is exactly what went down when nanami met my mom #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x black!reader #nanami x black y/n

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mischievousmoony · 5 months ago

Text

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷 ⟡ 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; it's your first day on the job and james is your trainer . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 2.4k

⟢ warnings/tags: is profanity a tw pls lmk actually, coworker!james, coworker!marauders, accidentally wrote an anxious!reader, trying out that headcannon where remus is a bit of a hothead, only lightly grammar checking this series bc i just wanna have fun w it

⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist

note: here, bc i gotta chill and write something light for once. i think this will be an ongoing fic. also im not beating the mentioning tea in ever fic allegations anytime soon how does this always happen.

“Welcome in! How many in your party?”

“Oh! No, I’m Y/N. It’s my first day.” Your fingers pitter patter nervously on the host stand.

“You’re the new waitress!” the bubbly hostess exclaims, “I’m Mary! It’s so nice to meet you. Stay right there, I’ll go get the manager.”

She disappears into the busy restaurant, leaving you rocking back and forth on your heels nervously.

Mary, you repeat the name in your mind, recalling what she looked like so that you wouldn’t forget who the name belongs to. You had a thing with learning names—you just hated forgetting them. It felt so humiliating to have to ask someone to remind you of their name. One time, you worked with someone for months and their name lived on the tip of your tongue the entire time. Luckily, they quit before it ever came up.

“There she is! Ready for day one?” The manager, Nate, greeted as he followed Mary back to the host stand.

Not in the slightest. You always hated first days, with all the pressure to make a good impression. Not to mention it’s only the start to the slow climb over the learning curve. You hold out hope that everyone will be as nice as Mary seemed, it would make today a lot easier.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you say, straightening out your black shirt. The dress code for this job was essentially the color black from head to toe. You used the lack of a formal uniform to your advantage, expressing your personal style as much as you could within the confines of business casual.

Nate clapped his hand together, “Right, first up is a tour and introductions. I have all your paperwork already, right? So, after that we’ll get you in an apron and find someone for you to shadow.”

“Sounds good,” you try sounding cheery and excited, only for you to start worrying about whether or not you sound too eager.

“So, front of house is up first. You’ve already met Mary, our lovely hostess—“

Marry wiggles her fingers at you as a playful wave while she takes a phone call, “Yes, we do takeout!”

“You don’t need to worry about the host stand, but I’ll show you the book so you can get a feel for the sections and how we operate. We’ll only give you a small group of tables at first…”

You try to commit everything Nate says to memory, wanting to do well here. You really need this job. Rent isn’t cheap, especially without roommates. And you really don’t want a roommate. Plus this place pays their servers well, so you want to be good at it. You really really need to listen to Nate if you’re gonna be good at this.

But, jeez, Nate seems like he loves to talk. He’s going on and on and on and you’re fighting back a yawn when Mary swoops in like a hero, telling Nate she needs the book back to make a reservation.

“Sure, I think you’ve got the idea of it anyway, right?” Nate asks.

You blink, “Oh, yeah. Sure do!”

Shit, you think. You totally zoned out.

“Great, let me show you to the bar,” Nate says, already walking away.

Another reason why you really want to work here was for the ambiance. It’s a contemporary place with a grungy interior, all while remaining slightly upscale for restaurants in this area. Another upside was the live music. If you’re gonna be working, at least let it be somewhere nice with good music.

“Sirius! New server’s here,” Nate interrupts the bartender who’s in the process of mixing up a cocktail. You introduce yourself with a shy smile as you study him, trying to make a permanent link between his name and face in your mind.

Sirius the bartender—mischievous gray eyes and long black hair. He wears half of it tied up in the back of his head, surly to avoid having it fall in his face while he mixes drinks.

He puts the shaker down and rolls up the sleeves of his satin black dress shirt, “Hey there, doll, y’alright? Natey not being too boring for ya?”

“Alright, back to work, Sirius.” Nate says, sounding snappy.

You follow Nate to the back of the restaurant.

“This is the kitchen—“

“Who the fuck rang in scallops? We’ve been 86 scallops all fucking day.”

“Don’t look at me! Was probably James, the bloody dolt.”

“This seems like a bad time,” Nate spins on his heels and ushers you out of the kitchen quickly, “Whoever trains you will get you acclimated to the kitchen later. That’s Remus, just so you know, head chef.”

You nod, not having anything else to say as you begin to worry everyone won’t be as nice as Mary.

You want to take a moment to commit Remus’ name to memory like you had Sirius and Mary’s, but you only caught a glimpse of him. Still, you were sure you wouldn’t forget who the name belonged to now that you’ve had such a lovely first impression.

Next, Nate takes you down a hall, past the bathrooms, to show you his office and the staff area complete with a rickety table for breaks and some lockers. In the corner are two plastic bins with fading sharpie scrawled across the front of them: CLEAN and DIRTY. Nate reaches into the “clean” bin and picks out a slate gray apron.

He hands it to you, and you try to tie it the way the server in the kitchen had it. Nate starts leading you back out into the dining room as you continue to fiddle with the ties.

As you dart around the restaurant, the “fast-paced environment” detail from the job listing is really starting to materialize, and this was only the tour.

“Right, now where are my bloody servers.” Nate mutters under his breath, “Slacking off by the host stand, of course.”

There’s two servers at the host stand: a girl with red hair hanging in two braids on either side of her face and a tall boy with glasses. They’re huddled with Mary, looking like they’re sharing hot gossip.

You and Nate make it to the host stand at the same time as the other server from the kitchen.

“Hey, team!” Nate says, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Chef’s fuckin’ pissed at you,” she says to Glasses.

“What I do!?” He asks, whipping his body out of the huddle. Mary and the red-haired girl keep talking without him.

“Thinks you rang in some scallops,” she shrugs, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her face.

“Why would I do that? We’re 86.”

“Yeah, but I forgot,” she says nonchalantly, leaning her back against the host stand.

“And you let him think it was me!?”

“Oh yeah, obviously. Anyway, I should probably go tell my table they’re not getting their scallops.”

“Servers!” Nate interrupts loudly, finally making your four new coworkers quiet down. You feel all eyes suddenly train on you. You smile through the uncomfortable sensation of your stomach lurching.

“We have a new member joining our team today. Please give a warm welcome to Y/N.”

“Hi,” you flash a smile to the new faces in front of you.

“Welcome!” The red-haired girl returns a bright smile of her own, “I’m Lily, I love your earrings.”

“Marlene,” the blonde says plainly.

And finally—

“Hiya, Love. I’m James,” the one with glasses says coolly as he rests an elbow on the host stand. He exudes confidence, and it makes you want to shrink into yourself.

You try to study the three of them to commit names to faces.

Lily—fiery red hair, kind eyes, and a fair complexion with a sprinkling of freckles.

Marlene—you like the way her blonde hair is cut into a shag. She also kind of intimidates you, so you really want to remember her name.

James—glasses, tousled dark hair, very attractive. That last part probably wasn’t a necessary attribute to help you remember his name, but it was true. He has a tall, toned frame that would’ve made him seem intimidating if not for the way his eyes transformed into the physical embodiment of sunshine when he smiled. Were your hands getting sweaty?

“Alright, great. Introductions are done, now I need someone to be a trainer.” Nate claps his hands together, waiting for a volunteer.

“I have to go give a table bad news, so-”

Nate cuts Marlene off before she can hastily run away, “Wasn’t gonna ask you anyway.”

James is eyeing you, sizing you up it seems, when he pipes up, “I’ll do it.”

Marlene snorts. “Weren’t you saying an hour ago that Nate better not dump the-”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Marls,” James says through clenched teeth, glaring sideways at her.

You felt like quitting on the spot, thinking that you were obviously a burden on these people. Being a burden to James, specifically, felt particularly embarrassing. It had your face heating up.

“Great! Thanks James,” Nate says, “Y/N, you’re in good hands. I’ll be in the office if you need anything. The rest of you, get back to work!”

With a reluctant groan from Marlene and a “nice to meet you” from Lily, the small crowd disperses. All except for you and James.

“I’m sorry you got saddled with training me.”

“Aw man, no! Marlene was just-” James cuts himself off with a sigh, “Fine, I didn’t think I’d want to train today. But I changed my mind, so don’t feel like you’re a burden or something, alright?”

James seems pretty genuine, so you digress. Not without a joke first, though.

“Just remember you asked for it later when you get tired of me.”

“I have a feeling that’s not gonna happen,” James says, a certain playfulness dancing in his eyes.

As a new party walks into the restaurant, James leads you toward a nearby order station so that you’ll be out of the way.

“So, you’re gonna wanna forget everything Nate told you,” he says as you walk, “I’m gonna show you how we actually run this place.” He shoots a boyish smirk over his shoulder.

“That shouldn’t be very hard, I don’t think I was awake for any of it,” you admit with a chuckle.

“Ooh, I’m gonna like you!” James swings his body around when you reach the order station, “We love Nate slander here. Behind his back of course.”

“That’s worrisome,” you say, trying to find a comfortable way to lean against the terminal. You end up just standing up straight, “He seemed kind of nice.”

“You ever work in a restaurant before?” James leans toward you, looking coy, and you do your best not to shrink away from him.

“Yeah, I was a hostess.”

“You ever been friends with any of your old managers?”

You think about it for a minute, “No.”

“Exactly,” James leans back and you feel your shoulders relax at once. “He’s alright, but he’s still the boss. Plus, it’s good for server morale to have a common enemy.”

James earns a laugh from you, and he smiles brightly as if it’s the biggest honor.

“So, when do you get off?”

“I’m closing, I think.”

“Nate has you closing on your first shift? Diiiiick move.”

“He asked first and I told him I could handle it.”

“He shouldn’t have asked.” James insists, then he waves it off as if deciding what’s done is done, “That’s alright, you’ll be able to stick with me. But in light of that, I’ll make today easy for you. You can watch while I take orders, and I’ll show you how I ring them all in here,” James pats the POS terminal, “And you can help me get bread and refills out to tables mostly. I won’t make you take orders today ‘coz it’s a bit rowdy in here, but maybe if we’re sat with an easy table we’ll see how you’re feeling.”

You nod along, not having anything to say, not that you had the chance. James is a fast talker and you’re beginning to notice how full of energy he is. It’s a tad amusing, and it’s beginning to show on your face.

“What?” James asks, eyes flicking down to your growing smile.

With a slight shake of your head, you say, “You a big coffee drinker?”

“Y’know, I get that a lot,” James reaches into the underside of the order station, and pulls out a canned beverage, “But I’m partial to these.”

Your face scrunches up as James takes a sip of what you like to call battery acid in a can.

James makes a big show of acting refreshed, emitting a long sigh when the can leaves his lips, “Not your cup of tea, I take it?” James raises an eyebrow.

“My cup of tea would be actual tea. Or coffee-“

“Coffee’s any better?”

“A million times, yes.”

“I beg to differ.”

“You can’t be serious.”

James’ eyes light up like you’ve just handed him a prize, “You’re right, that’s the bartender. ‘Ave you met him?”

It takes you a moment to register what he means, and then you’re rolling your eyes, “Oh, I’m gonna hear that joke a lot from you aren’t I?”

“You’re gonna hear that joke all day from everyone, Love, it’s a house favorite.”

As you’re about to quip back, Lily squeezes between you two to ring in some food.

“James, enough flirting. Some of your tables are starting to look pissed,” she says, tapping on the screen quickly to get the order in.

“I’m not flirting,” James protests, but the wink he shoots you begs to differ.

Lily takes a break from noting modifications for a sandwich order to look at you, “James is always flirting, you’ll learn to ignore him.”

James is looking at you over her shoulder, shaking his head and swirling his index finger by the side of hers, mouthing “she’s crazy.”

As Lily resumes removing tomatoes from the order, she catches James in the act and swats his hand away, “Seriously, James, they’re starting to flag me down because they haven’t seen you in ages.”

James clutches his hand close to his chest. His eyes flit between you and Lily, a mock-horrified look on his face that communicates “see, I told you she’s crazy!”

“Who?” he asks.

“Your tables, you dunce,” Lily hisses, but there are notes of humor in her voice.

James bares his teeth as grimaces and checks his wrist for a watch that doesn’t exist, “Bollocks, look at the time. Come Y/N, I’ll show you how to turn an angry table into a happy one.”

You have to stifle a laugh as you follow James to his tables, mentally adding him to the list of reasons why you really want to work here.

393 notes · View notes

therealslimshakespeare · 10 months ago

Text

Masters of the Air Fanfic

As requested by sweet @arianatheangel-girl and the subsequent poll for a “Buck Cleven Fic before the series comes out” -and I, being a madwoman with no impulse control and a faint recollection of the book, have delivered…this…whatever this is

Song Challenge: i was challenged by dear @the-ugly-swan for a twenty favored songs challenge and I’m gonna go ahead and make this part of it. August by Taylor Swift informed some of the bittersweet timeline here, with infidelity not being the enemy but rather the lack of possessing oneself fully during wartime to give to another

Spoilers: historical accuracy and inaccuracy abound here so, beware there are some biographical facts about Cleven in here that might count as spoilers to those who wish to watch the series with a blank slate. While to the history purists I must beg for a substantial amount of artistic license to be granted me, and obviously I’ve not seen the show yet and I crunched the timeline to my own will

Reader insert but without the use of “y/n” -I’m utterly fudging a bit on the likelihood of a WAAF lady being part of the American ground crew, however, I had in my minds eye the vision of a greasy mechanic and a glamorous flyboy and it wouldn’t budge, so shhh, go with the vibe

Warnings: mature, 18+. Fluffy smut was requested and while it is very brief and mild in here, not very explicit in phrasing, it’s quite present and a plot point so beware. Also, Virgin!Gale has my heart so we went with that. No shade to dear Marjorie irl, I’ll probably end up writing fics about her once the show gives me Inspo. Some angst due to war, POW’s, etc, mild language

Word count: a monstrous 12k

They came in like locusts at the height of summer, long prayed for, oft cursed in moments of perilous isolation, those ever so intriguingly shiny Americans.

Swarming with a metal buzz over the flatlands of East Anglia, big hulking beasts touched down on fresh tarmacs with more grace than anything that size ought to have, flashing the most bizarre and suggestive paintings on their gleaming fuselages. Flying Fortresses, they were called, and deserved the name. Nothing but the biggest, the loudest, the most alarming machinery would do for the American war effort, and now all this mighty strength was Britain’s too, no longer alone, no longer enduring.

Now the fight could be taken to the enemy in earnest. Out of their flying ships poured the most alarmingly young looking faces, jaunty hats and leather jackets, they looked every bit the sort of fellows war was advertised to.

Farmers in their tractors, mothers with daughters still under their command and RAF veterans all looked askance at such pristine warriors. Had their fertile fields been paved into airfields just for this? Were these gum chewing boys the long expected aid? It wasn’t anti-climactic, nothing American could ever be, it was all just alarmingly fresh. It was understandable then, the initial tentativeness the locals felt towards their new occupants, the way the boys took up such space in the rural villages, made such a racket in the pubs, chased every skirt that swished in the rainy summer breeze, stuck hands out for a shake no matter the introduction. They were a warm, boisterous and confident lot, all much needed attributes in wartime Britain, and soon, the initial distrust of the citizenry thawed, hands were shaken in return and invitations made. An amiable amalgamation eventually occurred, Norfolk never to recover or return to whatever placidity had been her’s before the arrival of the 100th.

Personally, you couldn’t wait to get your hands on them. The planes, that is.

Amalgamation was less a choice for yourself and your service members than a duty. It was abnormal, having a mixed ground crew, British and American servicemen too often clashing in hierarchy disputes for it to be standard, but with deployment rates so high and casualties mounting, ground crew became a case of whichever skilled individuals could be called upon to keep the operation running, the pilots up and the enemy bombed.

You were just glad to be near home, first time back since ‘39 when you’d signed up in the Women's Auxiliary Air Force -even if your rural hometown was now overrun with Americans. They weren’t a bad lot at all, at least not the ones you’d encountered so far on base. Amiable and unexpectedly eager, undeterred by veterans’ grim looks and tales of the woodchipper across the channel, that line of anti-aircraft that shredded anything trying to penetrate the continent.

“Better get crackin’ then.” Was the common response followed by a grin.

Your crew chief sergeant, Ken Lemmons, an American with a forelock of sandy ringlets and the patience of a saint, made the job easier even as every ounce of expertise was exacted from each man -or woman- under him. Feeding a fiery chain of bullets into the turret gun under a hot July sun, you thought your papa may have had the right of it when he tried to dissuade you from choosing the harsher duties of the Auxiliary Force. You could’ve been pouring over a map in the cool of the boardroom right now, or passing on radio messages, even shuttling planes would’ve been more relaxing, but no, you’d spent your life passing him tools in his garage, your papa had been building flying machines when most for these boys were still in diapers, and that path called to you, too. So for you it was grueling maintenance work and the ever present grime of grease on your hands and the awkward reach of twisted metal repairs. Gratefully, after their first mission, there were plenty of them back safe, however riddled their fortresses might’ve been.

It was interesting, the way certain of the flight crew treated the ships. Some were endeared but indifferent to their repairs while others hovered at each hole and tear, like over protective mothers, while you and your mates tried to do your jobs.

Why, one plane in the five assigned to your care was even named “Our Baby”. With such a moniker it made sense that its porcelain faced pilot would caress the shredded wing with a misty eyed frown at each wound, like it were a breathing thing, a race horse, a friend. You didn’t judge it, and he didn’t seem aware of his audience, he’d be back out there doing his own check up after debriefing. Never interrupting your work, always quick to step aside or duck out of the way of a ground crewman’s path, it wasn’t time to chatter or make introductions, although sometimes when the work took long and his reports longer, he’d be there to bid goodnight to you all, soft, American drawl saying “Goodnight, thank ya, goodnight, good work, thank ya” again and again to each.

You grew to recognize them, the ones each mission spared, there were so many and under hats and bundled in leather jackets they tended to blend together, but there were those who made their mark, if not on you then on Dorace in cartography and Eileen at the Red Cross. There was much tittering and speculation, after all, spread thin as their time was, there was also plenty of off time, made all the more charged and anxious as it came in the form of waiting for new orders. The men would be vibrating with nervous energy and generous in the flush of a recent victory and they took it out on the little villagers who in good British fashion took it on the chin and challenged them to a contest of good spirits.

Those were happy days, less anxious than the preceding ones and less heavy than those making up the year after. You dared be roped into the multiple pub crawls, often choosing the most sensible and quiet of the group as your victim and attaching yourself to their side for the evening. This tactic had its fallibility, sometimes those moderates were such a bore as to be unsupportable or hadn’t enough verve to make a full night of it and retired early like respectable, curfew-abiding saps. That’s how you found yourself one night ensconced in a beer pungent corner of Flaggen’s, green leather seats sticky under your palms, with Major Egan fanning out a wad of cash in front of you. It was a blatant attempt to bribe you to clear his aircraft sooner than the last inspection suggested.

“Suggestions” was Egan’s term for regulations.

If you were less tipsy you wouldn’t have giggled at the man’s idiocy, but his arm was heavy around your shoulders and this very cash had bought you one too many gin and tonics. “These regulations keep you alive!” You chided him, shaking your head and feeling the room tip as you did. Truly these Americans could hold their liquor, almost as well as the Polish Squadron when it came to a binge.

“A little flack isn’t gonna keep her down.” he scoffed, “I’ve been grounded for a week now-“

“-I don’t have the authority-“

“-and I’m not gonna sit here while Buck goes up and racks up his number!” Eagen was vehemently slurring and your drunken mind tried to process who Buck was, if not Egan himself.

“Aren’t you Bucky?” you asked, bewildered.

-Americans and their nicknames.

“Yeah.”

“So who’s Buck?” you concentrated very hard on the ancient coaster beneath your latest pint.

“It’s Buck! It’s Gale, Cleven, Major Gale Cleven!” Egan waxed louder and more dramatic with each addition. “You keep clearing his plane! But not mine! Why’s that, huh?”

“How do you know that?” you asked, dubious and only in the raucous of this little pub would his loud voice go unheeded. Compared to the ongoing dart game to the left behind the half wall, an elephant’s trumpeting would be considered bashful.

“ ‘Cause he tells me?” he replied, bewildered at your slowness, “Says you and your crew are little fairies, crawlin’ all over his plane and patching it up better than ever after each mission. And then you clear him. Simple as that.”

“I don’t have authority to clear anyone.” you repeated.

“Huh,” Egan grunted, “how’does he mean then?”

“I don’t know.” you replied firmly, “I doubt I’ve even got your plane, i don’t see you around.”

“I don’t stay around, that’s your job, patching up. I just fly the damn thing.”

“Oh, well.” you shrugged, “I’ve had five, it’s down to three after last mission.” Three years ago the mention of that ratio of losses would’ve sank your mood to the floorboards, by now it’s horrifically routine. “What’s yours called?”

“Mugwump.” he grinned proudly, a flash of white beneath his dark mustache, the man’s face positively shimmered with sweat.

“Serial?” you asked demurely, just to be difficult.

He squinted his eyes shut briefly, head tilted back as if to ask the heavens for help and the recited in a drill master’s staccato “42-30066, ma’am, yes ma’am.”

You giggled again and Egan’s arm jostled your shoulders, smushing you further into him. They were good fun, these boys, didn’t even mind your horrifyingly unflattering uniform with its bulging pockets adding bulk where your curves should take center stage and your stupid pleated cap making you look to be half baker, half doll. You preferred your plain navy coveralls but you’d hardly be let into an establishment in them. Egan’s warm arm didn’t seem to mind the excess poof of the material, he smashed it right down with his hand’s firm grip, he was fun, you decided, no harm in good fun. “Alas, not one of mine.” you sighed, focusing hard on the serial number.

“Damn.” he swore, playing at dejection.

“No,” you went on, “but I’ve got this one, a very spoiled one, maybe you know whose it is. They named it ‘Our Baby’!”

Poor manners and personnel etiquette though it was, you couldn’t say it without tittering.

Egan didn’t laugh, he just looked at you like you’d proved his point. “Yeah,” he replied vehemently, “That’s Buck Cleven’s!”

“Oooh.” -So it was him, the fighting cherub, the walking doughboy, toothpick, baby at wings: there were a dozen or more nicknames you and the ground crew gave the wing-petting Major behind his back. “He always says goodnight to us.” you said instead.

“Is that where he is when I wanna go for a drink?” Egan exclaimed, “Ha! You’d think he was married to the ole ship.”

“He handles her beautifully.” You feel oddly compelled to defend, he’s a master at flight and as someone who must repair each fault of his landings and his leavings and his missions, you feel some loyalty to his finesse. “He handles her so well.” you repeat in the tone of a woman who’s seen some aviation in her time, young though you may be.

“Well let me let you into a lil secret,” Egan smirks and you brace without knowing why, he is, after all, not the respectable and dull men you choose to go out with, he is the dangerous sort you bring those dullards along to deter, “shes the only ‘she’ that boy has ever ‘handled’ -if ya get my drift.”

The sleazy wag of his eyebrows leaves no room for ignorance, you feel your face heat up, wether in prudery for the topic or second hand embarrassment for his friend’s sake, you don’t know.

“Nothing wrong with that.” you reply coldy, only to distance yourself from the road his body language seemed to be hurtling you both down.

“Quite right. Nothin’ at all!” Egan agrees vehemently, his smile easy and his eyes clever “But I’d be a poor friend if I didn't try to remedy his predicament.”

“Telling me is somehow part of this remedy?” you were suspicious, rightfully so.

“Maybe.” Egan drawls it out, shifting in his seat to no longer corner you, his attention drawn to the nearby dart game. The man of the moment, the subject, the handler of planes and none else, was not here. He had such a luminous head of golden hair, it would be a beacon amongst the muddy haired crowd flinging darts. “The thing of it is, dear,” Egan confided, “I've had an absolutely marvelous time since I got here. And I think that’s rather essential, for sanity and for international relations, don’t you? I’ve gotten to know all sorts of wonderful people, lovely people like yourself-“

“-word is, you’ve known them a little too biblically, no wonder Cleven avoids your outings.” You could not help but temper him. “Half of Great Britain has had the privilege, if some are to be believed.”

“And so what if I have? I love dancin’!” he laughed quite happily at your barb and you didn’t have it in you to pull down any further a man who was sacrificing so much day in and out. “Getting to know Great Britain is a better occupation than pettin’ plane wings under the moonlight.”

You tittered again at his words and the oddly endearing memories you had of watching Major Ceven petting and whispering to his plane like she was his long-standing beloved, loitering ground crew unheeded. “He does do that.” you agreed.

“Hey, everyone’s got their method.” Egan insisted in his friend’s defense, “But I have told him, it’s good for the morale to mingle, even if he hates drinkin’.“

You pucker your face at that. “I know he mingles, Violet says he’s a doll when he goes to market.” you point out, small town chatter gets around and while you can’t say you know Cleven, you know he’s mild mannered and precious. And a terribly pretty face too, which isn’t fair, he oughta be an ass which a face that cute. “And he got a tan from somewhere last week.“

“Oh, so ya noticed!” Egan is triumphant, “A bunch of us used our day passes to go messin’ around in boats on the canals.”

“Good for you.” you didn’t know what else to say. “Why are we talking about him? What’s your point? I can ask for your plane to be transferred to my crew, but it won’t get you a sloppy clearance. And if your friend is so socially awkward he can’t even manage a pub night, you can hardly expect me to be flattered that you consider me prime material to throw at him.”

“He’s not awkward.” Egan cut to the chase quite serious, in mission mode, “Buck just had his hopes tangled up back home, and now he’s here he’s finding it hard to accept that hopes were all they were. She’s real moved on.” Well that had hurt, you winced in sympathy. “I warned him, everything during this war has got to be taken as a bit inpermanent. Don’t fall in love with Texas girls when you’re headed to England -via: Louisiana, Indiana, hell, by New York she’d stopped writing.”

“And now the texas girl has-“

“-found a Texan, I guess.” He shrugged and chugged the last of his pint. “She’s gettin’ married, it's really over. So, -“ he made a broad gesture as if to explain his reasoning for this entire segue. “-you like projects, you wouldn’t be in the line of work you’re in if ya didn’t, so whaddya say?”

You looked around the dimly lit pub in search of two things, sunny blonde hair and a clock to tell you how badly you were going to regret this night, come morning. “He’s not even here.” you balked.

“Well, no-“

“-what I say is,” you grinned at him disbelieving, “you owe me another gin and tonic for subjecting me to such inane chatter.”

His grin should have served as warning enough that he would neither drop the subject nor let you off free this evening. In fact, the ticking clock and its late curfew breaking hours became the least of your concerns come morning. The cool wash of bitter juniper blended into the pungent flow of beer, it blurred everything, soon there was a great swelling of pride for your native village, a pub crawl was on, all three visited and drank from, an army Jeep was requisitioned without authority, there was some incident regarding a policeman‘s helmet. The latter being the reason why you found yourself in “jail” the next morning, nursing a raging headache and questioning life decisions while glaring at John Egan’s polished boots.

There was very little talk about bail or Air Force hours being exceptioned, the more pressing concern to the Bobbies who had nabbed you was the coed holding cell. Thorpe Abbotts was a small place, after all, and you liked it that way. If this overly indulgent night could be kept away from the military police, all would be well.

You had one hope: Harry Crosby was sensibly absent from the holding cell, having a keen sense of when to depart from the raucous joyride at the precise moment to save himself a demerit. It was an extreme embarrassment to you that you’d not had the same sense. In fact, fond as you were of a bit of a knees up, you couldn’t quite credit the fact you had allowed yourself such free reign, or accomplished such foolishness. Glowering at Major Egan’s face now, animated with delighted chagrin at your shared plight as it was, you vowed to never again hook your fortunes to his, as it were.

Your resolve, and humiliation, was about to be compounded, exponentially.

There was a bustle of a visitor entering the precinct, easily heard in the small space, followed by the low hum of mild mannered conversation. It went on for sometime, and no amount of straining at the bars and cocking of ears would allow you, Egan or your fellow misfortunates to ascertain the gist of it. Violet’s husband was the main constable, and you were quite certain he’d be moderate in his sentence, he had his helmet back, after all. It was the Air Force penalty of not being on base in time this morning that you feared, a growing nausea that compounded the misery of your aching head. They’d not discharge Egan, they’d probably not even demote him, he was too crucial and he’d done this one too many times for it to be grace alone saving him. When he was needed, really needed, he was there. That’s what counted. The same could be said of you, but that hardly mattered given your low rank.

Violet’s husband, also known as constable Herbert, came in sight and with a jangle of keys and a tap to the side of his nose, swung open the bars of infamy and gestured for you and your fellow inmates to file out.

“All sorted.” He declared. His gaze lingered on you as it had many times in your life when you’d been caught jumping in puddles after church, “Let this be a lesson and a warning to you.”

You tried your best at both obeisance and penitence, both of which were rather natural feelings at the present time, while hurrying past as fast as was respectful, your approaching shift hours making your heart thump in panic.

On the steps outside, your savior was loitering against the wrought iron fence, thumbing at the petunias in the nearby window box. Gale Cleven was a mile long of lanky body in perfectly pressed and tailored Air Force greens, fresh faced as the good conscienced are, hair combed without his cap and a smile on his soft face that was composedly long suffering, rather than endeared, as he watched you miscreants pour out of the modest brick building.

You stumbled to a halt on the first step at the sight of him and allowed your instincts to take over, hands smoothing down hair and skirt with frantic self consciousness. You must’ve looked a rumple.

“I hope last night was worth it.” Cleven drawled in that voice of his, so oddly deep for so fresh a face, his placid smile growing into something more genuinely mirthful as Egan smooched at him in gratitude and swore that he knew his Buck wouldn’t abandon them, that his Buck would pull through for them. “I order a round of toothpaste for everyone and cold showers, you stink.” Gale shied away without any real effort, nodding in greeting to the boys he recognized.

Then, as if in the most painfully slow motion with all the strong string accompaniment of a silver screen scene, his eyes landed on you and an odd ache formed in your chest at the anticipation of his disapproval.

It made you tense and draw yourself up to your full height, looking about as regal as a drenched bantam in your disheveled dignity, but you weren’t about to be relegated to another tier than these boys he so amusedly indulged.

“Y’all know what time it is?” he asked mildy, those azure orbs with their batting dark fringe didn’t waver and you realized he indeed had more guts than you’d given him credit for.

There was a chorus of “no”s and various guesses based on the fast evaporating fog and the lightening sky.

“Zero five thirty.” he ended the suspense with the cock of an eyebrow at you.

“Shit!” Egan was suddenly animated, “Shit, shit-“

“Hey, you keep your swearin’ away from my sweet lil corporal.” Cleven chided, and it took you a brief moment to startle upon realizing he meant you. And he thought you sweet? “C’mon Miss,” he waved you down the steps and for some inexplicable reason you felt very compelled to obey and suddenly stood beneath his gaze like a dutiful child awaiting deliverance or censure, “I’ve only got this bike, petrol allotment ran out when we went to the canals last week. But it’ll get ya back faster than this lot. Reckon you can manage on the handlebar?”

“Wha-?“ you glanced sideways at the bike with its large, sweeping handlebars and second guessed his meaning until he himself was straddling it. His legs required the seat to be hiked up impossibly high and the narrow nip of his waist was accentuated by the posture. Those padded, fleece puffed jackets you had seen him in had done no credit to his form, a toothpick he may have been with how terribly lean he was, but he was firm in all the right places. He was also waiting on you to answer while you ogled him.

“Gosh yes, I can, if you’re sure? Awfully kind of you.” you blathered and moved in a hurry to make up for your stalling, keenly conscious of his eyes on your back as you shimmied your backside up onto his handlebars, feeling the warm press of his hand as he helped steady you from tipping all the way back. You wiggled on the thin metal bar, spreading your legs on either side of the front wheel and doing your best to ignore the raucous commentary of the still tipsy audience of your fellow inmates swaying on the precinct steps. “Y’all just be glad there’s no mission scheduled today.” he snarked to them instead and they chimed up that last night’s idiocy was calculated with that in mind.

“Huh.” Cleven uttered, unimpressed, behind you and it made you shiver, worse than if your father caught wind of this stunt. “Darlin’ put your hands over mine, s’gonna get wobbly takin’ off.” he directed next and you did as you were told, looking back over your shoulder at him with a grateful smile that you were relieved to see returned, pink lips stretching and a freckled nose bunching up sweetly when all of the sudden a rush caught you by surprise and the bike was in motion and you whipped your head back to view the street as it rushed up ahead of you. “See ya boys!” he hollered out as a mutinous babble rose from his friends at being left to jog back.

The young man could put some speed on a bike, uphill too. Or, as much of a hill as could be found this far East. You could hear him chuckle when you squeaked at the first jolt of a pothole, your thumbs hooking under his hands and curling into his palms. They were warm and calloused, dry from the cool breeze and you may have imagined the way he squeezed them in assaurance but you did not imagine the way his voice piped up again, smooth and conversational: “Harry told me if I was quick I could get you out in time, I think we’re gonna make it. S’dont worry, even if Sergeant Lemmons gives ya trouble, I’ll insist.”

“That’s really too kind of you.” The chill of windburn and a substantial amount of remorse made your cheeks glow scarlet. “All of it is. I’m rather ashamed.”

“I didn’t take you for an all nighter sort.” he agreed but followed it with a soothing compliment, “You’ve always been nothin’ but perfect. P-p-perfectly punctual, I mean, and there’s no reason to let Egan’s idea of fun ruin your record.”

“Wasn’t his fault. Not wholly.” you sighed, giving Violet a bashful wave as you passed her opening the shop, a wave which Cleven mirrored behind you and between the two of you letting go the bike, it nearly dumped you both. It was luck and sheer persistence that righted you and kept your balance. “I’m afraid it’s a bit of a bad habit, picked it up at Northolt.”

“Where’s that?” he asked.

“South, by the coast.” you said, unsure why you felt the need to explain your debauchery away, “I was working a ground crew down there for a bunch of Polish Pilots. Spitfires mainly. That squadron nabbed the most kills of any in the RAF back in ‘40. Why, even Churchill visited more times than I can count, he found them good fun. Too much fun, they never went to bed without downing half a barrel. There was dice built into the bottom of the pints at the Black Bull, rather addictive, rolling to see who would buy the next round. —There was always a next.” You added upon reflection.

That was also the year you had lost your brother. The correlation between the habit and the loss wasn’t to be dwelt on.

“Huh,” Cleven let out one of him contemplative hums, “and how do we compare?” he asked surprisingly.

“How?” you laughed, daring to crane your neck back to see him in the early morning sunshine, pretty and sweet and arch in his expression. Dusk had not done his mama’s work on his face any justice, it made you want to pant he was so pretty.

“I dunno, in any way,” he laughed in turn, not even breathless as he sped the bike over the cobblestones, the village barely awake and mostly quiet, “how do we compare?”

“To the Poles?”

“Or the French. Or your own, the RAF ain’t no joke.” he amended, “Whoever is our competition.”

“So it is a competition.” you smirked -how very American of him. “Depends,” you hedged playfully, “Our boys are so very nice, familiar, they never run out the right coinage during a date either. But the French are better flirts while the Dutch are better dancers. But the Poles, they know how to romance. Lots of hand kissing and flowers, so many flowers there had to be rules made for overstocking the billet.”

“Sounds like we gotta step up our game.” he decided.

“Is that what you meant? How you compare? First impressions?”

“I-I- guess, yeah.” he now sounded confused, “I mean, what else? You got scores for aircraft?”

“I do.” you replied, as it was true, “But that’s unfair, you’ve only just arrived. I thought maybe you wanted to know something more -salacious.”

“Like?” His tone behind you was guarded and you doubted if the alcohol of last night were not still buzzing and fortifying your brazenness, that you’d ever go through with what you said next.

“Other performances. For instance, in bed.”

You felt his fingers flutter around the bars beneath your own, you gripped them tighter, not just because the stretch of old road before the air base was ancient and pitted but because you were in an agony of suspense as to how he’d take your forwardness.

“There’s a record of that somewhere?” he asked at last, a beat too long, too delayed for casualness, too morose for flippancy.

“In fact there is.” you responded carefully. “A little diary of rankings, actually, there’s multiple and whenever there’s a grand assembly of the WAAF or the WACs, they’re passed about and tallied.”

“Sweet Jesus.” he swore behind you, “And here I’ve been chalkin’ up railways and munition dump targets like they’re some achievement.”

“Oh it’s all a bit of silliness.” You assured, not intending to make him glum.

“Do-“ he hesitated and you prayed for strength for him to spit it out as the airfield came in sight on the flat plain ahead. He didn’t.

“-Do I what?” you prodded softly.

“Are one of these little tallies yours?” he asked miserably.

You grinned to yourself and felt the sunshine seemed brighter and the air crisper than ever before as it rushed in your face with the slowing speed of his bike. “No, not in the least. I merely keep track of Sally’s ledger. It’s all a bit too -messy, for me.”

You dared peak behind you again and he looked relieved, then blushed furiously at your observance of him. “Well, who does Sally say is winning?” he dared.

“Romania.” you chortled and he did too, in shock if nothing else. “But Egan’s caught wind of it, he’s quite determined to save your country’s dominance, you don’t need to sweat it.”

His frown was back and you had to focus on not falling off as he slowed the bike to a halt, momentum precarious as his long legs kicked out and walked it the last yard to the segregated barracks, you felt his hand again on your waist to steady you. “Does that bother you?” he asked earnestly, sorrow in his blue eyes.

He offered a hand for you as you hopped down and it was you who held onto it long after it was needed. “Bother me?”

“Yeah, him -consortin’…with Sally?” he pressed, hands quite engulfing your one, “Does it hurt you? Bucky, see, he doesn’t mean to hurt, he’s just so-“

“-Blimey, you are a dear.” you marveled and then amended your interruption as your amusement only further creased that sweet face, “If I am ever again in Major Egan’s company, it will only be to escape it just as quickly. I’ve had quite enough of…consorting.”

“That so?” The lackadaisical confidence he exhibited outside of the precinct was back again, a not unattractive smirk plastered on his vulnerable face, a scheme in his guileless eyes. “Had enough of holding cells?”

“Quite.” you smirked back. “A quiet family dinner is more my style, the occasional picnic, even a zip round Oxford as one must show the foreigners about.” you paused and squeezed his hand once more, “And I do enjoy a bike ride.”

You did not know if he cataloged your preferences for an ideal date or not, life was busy, after all, and the momentary frolics in the July sunshine and banter on the tarmac and evenings in the pub were the exception. Time went on. Most of life was spent in the air, in his case, and in yours, beneath the belly of his beast, wrench in hand. But ever after his gallant rescue of you, there was more than the passing “goodnight” paid to you, there were cheerful smiles on his exhausted face when he returned from a mission, as if you were the one face he was coming back to. With an old familiar dread you noticed the way you begin to take each hole and dent and damage to his plane personally, as if it had been exacted on something precious to you. You have begun to care, for him and for his men, and your tired heart could barely do more than dread what that might lead to.

Good fun. That’s what these boys were supposed to be.

Gale Cleven hadn’t proven much fun. And somehow that was worse. It was worse and also unbearably honoring to be the last face he saw before taking it off, flags in your hands waving in front of his hulking bomber, giving the old familiar directions for a perfect takeoff, one he executed sublimely time and again. His sober, purposeful nods to you before he engaged and taxied out for a mission of death was more intense and intimate than any bouquet or even, your thought, a kiss. It was true the donut dollies on the sidelines were often the last faces of home that many of those boys would see. But in the his cockpit, looking down at your shrimp sized figure on the tarmac, both Major Cleven and you knew that for him, it was yours.

Once, there was a scare, in the first days of august. More than a scare if you were being honest, your heartbeat about stopped and didn’t pick back up for a few hours until word came in. The rest of the base wasn’t much better.

Ten planes had not come back. -Among them, Our Baby. And Mugwump. For two officers, so crucial, so senior, idolized and beloved as they were, to not return, was a blow like none other. You weren’t alone in hovering around the control shack, taking license of your friendship with Dorace to get a play by play of any news. When news came, such as it was, it was both relieving and exasperating.

It would seem there was some problem, a defect or too great of a hit. Orders to land in enemy territory were ignored, however, by Cleven no less. He had doggedly pushed on, safely landing them in allied Africa, of all places. It took almost a day for this information to finally be pasted together, by the end of it you were sad, haggard and half useless in your coveralls, stupendously relieved for a man you were supposed to feel professionally about.

Instead, that night, tucked in your own bed after a meal with your parents and little brother, you thanked God for keeping him -them, all of them- safe. And found yourself pondering the tan on him when he got back from his African foray. Some jealous part of you feared he might be kept there but a week later the thunderous hum of approaching bombers buzzed the air overhead of Thorpe Abbotts and the satisfying thwump of wheels touching down brought them back. There was a frenzy of greetings, flight and ground crew eager to welcome them back, the radio operators, too, and even the civilians who’d managed to get on base.

Your little brother among them. Donald wanted to see them back safe and it wasn’t dangerous, and it wasn’t dire, not returning from a mission the planes wouldn’t be in such poor shape. They’d been repaired in Africa, enough to fly them all the way back to England. So little Donald was nearby and when the crowd parted and a bee-line for Cleven became apparent, he took advantage and gave the young man a firm handshake in greeting.

“Hey buddy, thank ya, who do you belong to?” Buck laughed while returning the firm grip.

“I’m her brother.” Donald pointed you out proudly among the dispersing crowd and you rolled your eyes at his expectancy for Gale to know or care about you, more than your most pertinent work on base.

“Oh are ya now, hers, huh?” he grinned at you, “Been talkin’ about me?” he greeted, there was a still healing scrape on his left temple that your fingers itched to soothe. How badly had he hit his head?

“Of course I have.” you defended, happiness bubbling under your lips and threatening to make you smile more than was professional, you could see Sergeant Lemmons observing you from the side and tried to keep some decorum. “We thought you’d died.” You stated plainly, it wasn’t any secret to Donald, as soon as the plane had gone missing and before radio contact had been reestablished, you’d rushed home and made the family pray over supper.

“We’ve been praying for you.” Donald agreed, and you saw Cleven startle, a gasped intake of breath between those lush lips and his eyes seemed to water as he searched first your brother’s face and then your own.

“You have?” he choked out, raspy and touched.

“Yes.” you whispered, mouth twisting in a ugly grimace to hold back your own emotion. It was of little use, something beyond War Effort investment in his well being had been admitted. “We thought you might be dea-“

-you didn’t finish your reiteration of your dread. Your face, a greasy and mist spattered face, was suddenly smushed into the padded leather of his bomber jacket, nose tucked right into the fleece apex where his pale blue scarf always rested on his throat.

He was hugging you, you realized with delayed surprise.

“-even though it made the potatoes cold, Da insisted on prayin’ every night after she told us-“ Donald was waxing eloquent on his own sacrifices of having one added prayer request lengthening his mealtime but you were oblivious to more than the firm press of Cleven’s still gloved hand to the back of your scarf wrapped head, some strong emotion shuddering through his body against your own. A tremor of terror and pain, you suspected, emotions he’d been suppressing all week.

After all, the saved weren’t supposed to be shaken up. They’d been saved, what was there to be off about? You’d seen enough pilots after a close call to know it was every bit as bad or worse than actual disaster. They’d send him right back up again in days, and that was what was expected, demanded, required. He was tremoring against you and you gripped him tighter, sympathetic and aching to cure it somehow. Even for a moment.

“We’ll keep praying.” you assured, and you heard him clear his throat, snotty and rough. “Oh, blast, I’ve positively greased your jacket.” you mourned as he let you go, finally, and you caught sight of the mess your filthy hands and face had imprinted on it during the embrace.

He chuckled as he looked down at the imprint, “S’fine.”

After such an exchange of emotion the air felt charged between you two, without privacy or precedence, it felt unthinkable to linger in that mood. You turned to his plane and pet the fuselage with unstudied fondness, it had been horrid having the old bird absent. You were not above having favorites and the love he poured into his ship, somehow, like some old fairytale truism, made the hulking metal beast lovable, in turn. “How’s our baby, hmm?” you asked him, giving him a sly smile and he took your proffered out seamlessly, joining you in cataloging the damage that had not been deemed severe enough to hamper his return.

“Don’t crawl under here, sir!” you protested as you wiggled under the belly only to find him beside you in the plane’s shadow, “You’ll be a mess!”

“I’ve already got stains.” he brushed your worries off, and you knew it was true. Bloodstains in fact. He had lost a man, the report said, and apparently, judging by his trousers, Buck had held the poor fellow as he bled out. “And I wanna show you the spot I’m worried ‘bout.”

“Alright.” you conceded, allowing him to direct you to the nose. “Watch it Donald!” you had to reprimand your little brother who predictably followed after, “You’ll burn yourself if you touch that, this thing was just running.”

“Careful buddy.” Gale echoed gently beside you and pushed his little head down, more into a crawl. You refused to allow the gentle way he treated the brat to warm you, you refused. Or at least, you refused to let it show, the tingle and heat you felt being all too consuming to be denied.

He was lovely. But you already knew that. He was even more lovely when, upon crawling out from under Our Baby, he took his scarf from around his neck, silk decadently soft, flesh warmed and smelling strongly of his exertions, and swiped it across your greased cheek.

“You’ve got just a lil more…” he practically mumbled and wiped down to your chin, firm, gentle little rubs of the silk which required his other hand to grasp your chin to steady you. You weren’t sure when he’d taken off his gloves, but the feel of his skin on yours was heady.

“It’ll take a couple days.” You predicted regarding the repairs, “Which means you’ll have a few days free, if they don’t drown you in reports.”

“Oh they will.” he laughed, “But s’long as my days are free, means yours aren’t.” he pointed out.

“I guess that’s true.”

“We shoulda thought of that when we chose this line of work.” he joked and your cheeks flamed at the realization he wished to spend time with you. “But you’ll have your nights still, yeah?”

Coming from anyone else, the request for your nights to be reserved would strike you as suggestive indeed. But this was Buck, and when he mentioned nights you imagined nothing but taking him home for a tepid potato and rationed powdered milk supper and the warm reception of your family. His weary eyes suggested how badly he needed that. You could give it to him, and it made your heart glow.

“Yes, I’ll have my nights.” you agreed, “And you can have them, too.”

Sergeant Lemmons agreed with your estimation of Our Baby’s damage the following day and four long days after were spent patching up damage that suggested what a hellish ride that must’ve been. Someone else hosed the blood out of the bay but it turned the puddle on the concrete beside you sickly pink.

To and fro from office to barracks to observation tower, Cleven would stop by to see his ‘baby’ on these occasions. The heckling the ground crew gave you regarding this potential double meaning was agonizing and almost made his attentions not worth it. But then he’d be dropping to a squat to chat with you as you soldered metal, heedless of the sparks, or else bringing scones from the mess to refresh you and, again, wiping your face often with his fancy scarves despite your protests that it was futile.

And at night, on the second day, you made good on yours and Donald’s word and brought him to dinner. It was a quiet walk from the base to the end of the long main road, right to the outskirts of the village, where your family’s unassuming little thatched cottage nestled amongst mama’s victory garden, daddy’s aeroplane hanger and repair shop loomed ugly and dark behind.

The look on Buck’s face when you met him outside the base’s gate at seven in the evening in a dress and heels was worth capturing. But you hadn’t a camera with you and it wasn’t like you were liable to forget. His pure look of awe and appreciation for your cleaned up and girlish state was nearly comic if it weren’t so flattering.

“Darlin-“ he began in a rush but did not finish, only taking you lightly by the fingertips and spinning you slowly, his eyes wide like he was seeing a marvel, which, maybe he was, -your womanly form finally liberated from puffy uniforms and ugly coveralls. Wholesome as your intentions were for the evening, and indeed for him in general, it was some relief and delight to know he was capable of getting hot under the collar. His mama’s well drilled manners soon caught up to his unbridled appreciation and a deluge of charmingly proper compliments rained down on you next until you had to put a stop to his babble by tugging him down the road with the reminder of dinner as incentive.

“You’re sure they won’t mind?” he began his worries again, nervous to meet your parents.

If he’d been like the rest of the boys he’d know just how much mingling was already common. It wasn’t remotely odd to bring him home, not when you lived so near. “Don’t be silly, they’ve been begging to meet you and Donald has plans of torturing you with his plane models and Papa wants to show you his shop and mama thinks you're much too skinny, I’m sure she’s gone to the black market to grab something to fatten you-“

“-how’s she know that?” he interrupted in shock.

“Oh,” you flushed, realizing your misstep, “I’ve talked of you. And she recognized you, she and Violet are thick as thieves and -it’s not like you’re unremarkable. A physical description is rather easy to give when you, well, when you look like…you.”

“What do I look like?” he cried out but his cheeks were smiling despite his outrage, “Malnourished?”

“Like a lanky cherub.” you refuted and were pleased that the late summer sun was still bright enough at this long hour to show his pretty blush.

“A cherub.” he repeated in disbelief.

“Yes.” you were firm, both in tone and the press of your hand in the crook of his offered elbow, “And as we’ve been commended to entertain angels unaware, how much more when we are certain of one?”

“Oh shut up.” he begged you and you two staggered into each other as you laughed your hearts out. It felt good to laugh, for the both of you, and a little too foreign, as well. It left a hollow melancholy in its wake that was soothed by the near and swaying proximity of each other’s body.

“They’ll be glad to have you at the table.” you dared go on, feeling you should prepare him, should the subject arise, “I’ve a brother, you see, an older brother. Rafe, he was stationed in Burma. We’ve not heard of him in over two years. There’s an empty seat at our table, it takes a certain sort of soul to fill it without it feeling like a sacrilege. But you fit the bill nicely, I think.”

“Burma.” he repeated with all the gravity of a man who understood, who knew the ache of almost hoping a dear brother, a beloved son, was dead rather than enduring the slow hell of a Japanese internment camp. How awful to almost wish for a decisive end for one so loved. “No word at all?”

“None.”

“I’m terribly sorry.”

“Thank you.” you whispered, “And thanks for making it back, yourself.” you squeezed his arm jovially and felt his other hand fall atop yours there in the crook of his elbow and a sweetness filled you at the gesture, such as you’d never known before. It was peaceful and lovely and your little village suddenly looked as pretty and idyllic again as it was always supposed to, the routine route home was seen through his eyes, the eyes of a homesick boy with a soft girl on his arm, bound to meet her parents and inspect Donald’s plane models.

Your mother and father loved him, little surprise there, he was a darling and homesick and yours was a happy home, humble and wounded though it may be. Your mother was obnoxious in her delight the moment father took him out back to see where your expertise for welding first began, the little aerodrome, no longer fitted with pleasure craft but now fitted to scrap the more useless casualties. Mother pestered you as you helped clear the table, asking after him and whatever this thing was between you. When you assured her it was only dinner to fill that chair and some unfathomable knowledge that had grown each time you stood before his propeller and waved him off to death, she knew it for what it is.

War and the urgency of living that goes with it, shrinks long emotions into fast passion and steady hearts into foolish daring. Neither of you were the sort to tumble into the passing vogue passions that had seized hold of your friends and comrades. Yours was a quieter path. Even so, after the fourth evening of dinner rations and quiet fireside chatter and the patter of late summer rain on the roof, there was a kiss as he walked you back to base, his jacket over your shoulders, his shirt clinging to him and the sweetest intent etched on his misted features as his lips descended to yours.

“Thank you,” he had said so passionately yet so subdued, a wall of wisteria at your back and his honey blonde hair dripping into his eyes, “I’ve needed this bad.”

His words suggested the family dinners, his scorching lips suggested the molded flesh of your body in his large palms.

“So you’ve wanted this?” your breathed mixed, a hazy little cloud between you in the damp evening air, your little alcove of shelter from the rain under old Mosley’s shed was like another little world entirely, fauna filled and peaceful, even the ever present drone of machinery was drowned out by the downpour.

Your mother had been right, you should've waited longer till the clouds passed but you had both cited curfew -and maybe even subconsciously sought just such a predicament as the one that had you necking Gale Cleven in a wisteria claimed tool shed.

“I’ve wanted you.” he clarified, firm grip on the base of your neck punctuating his turmoil, his lips met yours again and whatever oath of abstinence he had chosen, it did not seem to include kissing. He was soft and persistent and all consuming, those restless hands migrating in an ever mapping caress, making every part of you thrum with butterflies. “Wanted you for a long while.” he spoke into your lips, “I think you’re just great.” And there was happiness then, untinged with anything temporal beyond the feel of warm flesh beneath cold, rain soaked cloth and lips that tasted of honeyed biscuits.

It was impossible to maintain the stoic propriety of behavior you’d once managed before, on base, after that. You knew now how he sounded when he moaned into your mouth and he his stare alone could make you blush, you had spoken to his mother on the phone and he had seen your childhood bedroom. He learned once, laying amongst sea grass on the beach during a cloudy Sunday, the silky moist feel of you beneath your swimsuit, his long, bashful fingers that were ever so fond of petting anything and everything, finally finding a place that responded to his swipes with jolts and gasps and sighs and pleasure. You peaked three times on that sand dune, Buck none the wiser as he had nothing to compare your little deaths to, you kept a firm grip on his forearm and told him he was doing marvelous and that’s all it took for him to be persistent. Persistent beyond what you imagined any other man could be due to cramp. He was getting freckles from so much sunshine, but it was well, the rains would be here soon come autumn.

These happy days had you risking your life to pause your work and watch his pretty form swagger across the asphalt to his next destination and he, ever so right and proper and by the book, became devil enough to lie in wait for you and catch you by the waist when you least suspected it and drag you into some abandoned corner.

Only to kiss you.

To kiss and to ask after your day, as if your evening was not to be spent sat beside him at table or the movies, lying on a picnic blanket with him near or in the back of a jeep on top of Mayberry Rise, the tallest point around where the stars ran into the sea on the horizon.

One of the first days of September, you made good on your promise to Harry and drove with him to muck about Oxford for a day and see the college, the library, too. It was a long ride and as you were at the wheel, Harry was gem enough to allow Gale along, too, and by the end of it, driving back late and in a rush before the headlights would be needed, you were quoting favorite literary passages to each other. As if you were all students, not misplaced youths in the business of killing.

You said as much and in the burgeoning gloom Gale’s rich voice asked if you knew any Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

“Not Wordsworth!” Harry clarified.

“No, I don’t.” You admitted, for all your chiding today of their not being cultured enough, you didn’t know your American writers as you should.

“He’s got a poem for that.” Gale said, “For what you said. Or at least, it makes me think of today -that verse, ‘member Crosby?- the one it goes:

-I remember the gleams and glooms that dart across the school-boy's brain; The song and the silence in the heart, That in part are prophecies, and in part, Are longings wild and vain. And the voice of that fitful song, Sings on, and is never still: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

The deafening silence for the rest of the car ride was filled with truth and your own heart was heavy when you bid them both goodnight that evening, headed to your seperate billets. You paused in you departure to turn back once more at the door and holler to Buck in the chilled September air, “That poem, is there more of it?”

“Lots more.” he’d spun round on his heel, pleasantly surprised at your inquiry.

“What’s it called?” you intended to search it out, though it was doubtful that a copy would be found near this remote place.

“How about I write it out for ya?” he suggested as if thinking the same.

“You’ve got a whole damn poem memorized?” you balked, incredulity warring with amusement that you should’ve guessed he’d be the sort.

“I-I-I might.” he stuttered before laughing.

“Then please do.” you grinned and threw him a kiss across the distance which he jumped up and caught from the air in a grand show of dedication. “Goodnight, cherub.” you wished him, “Sleep tight.” He had a mission in the morning, a daylight one.

“Goodnight old Bean.” He teased your accent and the door swung shut behind you blocking out the cold and the retreating sound of his footsteps.

If you’d have known that was the last time you’d hear them you’d have stayed an age out in the cold night listening to him go, memorizing the cadence of his gait, the sway of his shoulders disappearing into the twilight, the turn of his head as he’d throw a glance back at you, sweet and handsome and cheerful despite his ominous itinerary.

If you’d have only known.

It wasn’t like last time, like Africa. There had been no loss of contact. Dorace had heard every awful minute until the clock ran out. They’d been shredded, their precious ship turned into a raging inferno and Major Cleven’s gritted and garbled transmissions left only one hope that some at least had jumped out. Jumped out only to land in Nazi occupied Europe, it was a faint mercy to cling to.

The empty chair sat next to you again at the table and mocked you all. Mocked your hope and your resilience to dare love again. How foolish to bring home a man who belonged to a group they were calling “Bloody”, and not as a curse but an epithet.

The losses had been staggering all summer and now in September they hit close. You were confident that Crosby and Egan were every bit as dismal inside as you felt, Egan’s warm hand had clasped your shoulder like you were a fellow officer and told you he was sorry. You took the condolences and gave them back, a stupid little exchange that only highlighted how unspeakable some pain is.

Three weeks later, Egan’s plane didn’t come back either.

In your more fanciful moments you allowed yourself to imagine Egan and Cleven alive, somewhat whole and reunited. You could almost hear Cleven’s joking welcome, “What took you so long, Bucky?”

You’d indulged these fancies for Rafe, too, until years of silence suggested the worst.

However, this time, well into October and with an entirely new set of planes under your care, word came at last through the Red Cross, and the truth was exactly as you’d dreamed. There was only the paltriest letter back to command but it said they were well, they were alive, together indeed and being moved to the Polish border. Away from their own comrades' bombs. It was more than most ever got, and your family celebrated the news with the gratitude it deserved.

As October turned to November and your gloved fingertips froze as you worked, every sharp needle of chill reminded you of him, how much more awful it must be that far north, snow piled deep and muck everywhere and lice covered blankets and illness left untreated. As the holidays hurtled nearer, days of peace and goodwill you had planned to be spent with him, you were consumed by the dread of losing him to the elements since war had proven too clement. At night you lay abed and reread the one bit of handwriting you had from him, that damned poem he had written out, left under your door in the early dawn that had taken him from you.

My lost youth. That was the title of the thing. It cut like glass every time you read it, but Buck had touched that paper and looped those letters and dotted those i’s and it was precious to you. It became a prayer of sorts.

“There are things of which I may not speak;

There are dreams that cannot die;

There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak,

And bring a pallor into the cheek,

And a mist before the eye.

And the words of that fatal song

Come over me like a chill:—

“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”

Strange to me now are the forms I meet

When I visit the dear old town;

But the native air is pure and sweet,

And the trees that o’ershadow each well-known street,

As they balance up and down,

Are singing the beautiful song,

Are sighing and whispering still:—

“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”

Then, in January, as if prayers got heard, the most unexpected happened.

Major Gale Cleven, what was left of him after cold, starvation, murder and a treck across Europe, had returned. Things like this, seeing your lost beloved ride up to your workplace in the shotgun seat of a jeep, was the stuff of movies, hopeful propaganda or a woman’s mind that had finally cracked. You just stood there, welding helmet in hand, frozen rain spitting down at you, watching him jump out, watching Harry tear down from the observation tower to embrace him.

Dully, you could hear behind you Segreant Lemmons kind cheer of “so it was true, he got away from the bastards!” and a congratulatory thump between your shoulder blades. It was a moment of truth, to realize how far your faith had dwindled when the very answer to your prayers stood steaming with life in the cold air and yet you still could not accept it as reality.

“Baby.” his hands were warm compared to your damp cheeks and the span of them, so familiar and large, cupping your jaw with the calloused thumbs swiping at your temples, that was reminiscent of August and of happier days. Yet still, you had dreamed of him doing this, dreamed of a million different embraces and each time you woke up. “Baby, I’m back, I came to ya.” his voice was wrecked, from disuse and illness and whatever misery that had subjected him to. That, that was real enough, the rattling cough more so, you’d imagined his suffering in your worst nightmares too, this was something you could believe.

Familiar flesh was gaunt under your touch, gray cheeks where once there’d been freckles and the sinful pout of his once ruby red mouth was a dull violet, as if the vitality had been leached out of him. “What’d they do to my cherub?” you mourned, worst nightmares and wildest hopes blending into this one moment.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry f’me, I’m back. I came back.” he cooed to you, rough and sad himself, and your face was buried again in the placard of his coat, a great woolen overcoat this time, no fleece or any vestige of the swanky finery that got the flyboys ribbed for being soft, fancy, spoiled.

Nothing soft about these men, nothing gentle about their lot, nothing glamorous about being hurled down from the skies in a ball of fire.

“We kept praying for you.” you realized, it seemed important to tell him that however hopeless you all had felt, you’d gone through the motions anyway.

That was faith, wasn’t it? The hope of things not seen?

“I felt ‘em.” he said. “How else you think I managed it?”

It. -had managed it, that tiny word represented a host of terrors and miseries and unforgettable incidents that ricocheted in his brain like the lead fired into his boys head’s when they couldn’t manage a forced march, barefoot and underfed, in the snow.

Christmas had passed but January was not so very advanced, that evening your family turned back the clock and it was a matter of guessing as to who was celebrated more, baby Jesus or Buck Cleven. The two seemed intertwined at this point and in the warm glow of gas lamps and rationed toddy, with Buck’s hollow cheeks beginning to bloom and his dull eyes starting to animate, some part of you finally understood why so many felt worshipful on the holiday. The shit war rations felt like a feast, mama’s canned vegetables being the freshest thing he’d eaten in ages and with him sat at table again, empty chair filled, his hand creeping into your lap to lace with your own, there was peace.

Even the airforce, hard driving and high demanding though it was, took one look at his battered condition and admitted a period of conveyance was due. It wouldn’t do to send up a shoddy pilot, lose another plane, yet another crew or a hero of the hundredth. It’s not every day one of your squadron leaders escapes a POW camp and marches over occupied Europe and fordes the Channel to get back home.

A month was set aside. And you took as many weekday passes as you could during that month, happier than anything that he had been permitted to stay in town, to lodge with one of the locals. Rafe’s room was now occupied by him and mama’s broth was poured down Gale’s throat twice daily and his days kept busy with paperwork and Donald’s math problems. The ticking clock, the passing days, like the evil crocodile gobbling up time, was politely and britishly ignored in favor of enjoying what was. You no longer slept with the tear stained and crumpled poem clasped to your throat but his head lay there often enough instead. The thump of your heart helping him sleep, because exhausted and sick as he was, sleep and solitude were not comforts.

He was wracked with guilt for leaving Egan and his men behind, it had been every man for himself during that brutal forced march, he knew that and yet he’d left a friend behind. Buck waited for news of Egan like you’d waited for news of him. Nameless and senseless guilt ruining much of his own success and peace.

“He’d have expected nothing less of you.” you had taken to reminding him, “He’d be angry if you hadn’t taken the opportunity like you did.”

“I know.” he agreed miserably.

You admitted to him then, the horrid guilt of feeling that somehow, some missed defect or some lousy flaw had been the reason he’d been downed. Your work somehow not sufficient to keep him in the skies. When you’d admitted as much, Sergeant Lemmons had looked at you with all the censure such moronic introspection deserved: “Cleven got bombed to hell. He expected it, daytime raid and all. Blame the Nazis.”

“Blame the Nazis.” you suggested now to Gale as he lay sprawled in your arms, sweaty and feverish but his color was back and he looked pretty as anything so alive and near.

He looked ready to dare something, his face hovering nearer yours and the heavy weight of his limbs suddenly feeling full of intent but then his sparkling eye caught sight of something in the doorway and his lips quirked and his body shifted away.

“Whatcha doin’ sulkin’ out there Donny?” he addressed your brother and sure enough the little scamp emerged from the shadow of the doorway and joined you two on the bed, comic book clutched in his hands. They had a routine, apparently, Papa was no longer the chosen one for bedtime stories. It made you want to wince in anticipation for when Buck would move back to base and things would become full of dread again.

That day came sooner than you’d counted on. A month is not so very long, after all, and it was filled with so much work and business, stolen moments at home hardly being the norm.

“It’s an easy mission.” he’d said at dinner, as if arguing the point to you all. You knew he was trying to convince himself more than anything and so you all let him specify just how easy, how routine, how utterly unworrying tomorrow's flight would -should- be.

If it’s hard to get back into the saddle after being bucked off, how much worse to climb back into a plane after being tossed from the skies.

That evening he lounged on your bed instead of Rafe’s, the house emptied as your mother and father took Donny to the movies, the appeal of a new film finally showing cited as being too alluring to resist. He was lost in his thoughts, watching you go about your little evening routines that you tried to maintain when at home. It was domestic and cozy, warm where the world outside was cold and then there was Buck, golden as anything in the low lamp light, utterly unaware of the figure he cut lying on his side.

“I’ve missed it.” he told you, “Flying, I’ve missed it.”

“Of course you have. You were born for it.” you murmured.

“Ya know,” he reflected, “I signed up for the Air Force before it all got hot, before Pearl Harbor. I was gonna fly no matter what. I remember grittin’ my teeth durin’ training and tellin’ myself it would all be worth it. Just hang in there and it would pay off. I just felt something important would need me. Hell, guess I got more than I ever bargained for, didn’t I?”

“I guess you did.” you agreed.

“I couldn’t do this if I didn’t believe in it.” He insisted and you knew he was talking to himself again, until his face turned towards yours and the softest look of fondness crossed features turning them almost pained when he said next, “I couldn’t do it, get back up there, if it weren’t for love. The rightness of it but -love, for my boys, my family. For you.”

“I know, and we’re terribly lucky to have your devotion. -And…and I love you, too.” you vowed earnestly, then giggled at the absurdity of this being the first time to admit it.

“I’d had my suspicions.” he grinned back, some of that old cockiness returning along with his vigor as he snagged your wrist and pulled you down beside him.

“Do you know why my parents have gone?” you asked him pointedly, turning on your side to face him.

“To see a movie.” His face was so innocently perplexed you almost lost control of yourself and ruined the game right then with something terribly forward.

“My parents aren’t in the habit of seeing movies.” you corrected him soberly.

“No?”

“No.”

“So where’d they go?” Buck asked.

“Oh they’re at the movies.” you smirked, “But they’ve gone for us.”

Gale’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, if not of you then of his own naïveté. “For us.” he repeated and his voice had dropped an octave in the interim.

“Yes. Something about wanting us to have a goodbye.” you quoted.

“I’m not dying tomorrow.” he pointed his finger firmly in your face and it made you smile to see him so fiesty again.

“No,” you agreed with his prophecy, “but I wanted to give you some incentive to hurry back.”

“Oh?” those lips of his puckered again in confusion before his smarts caught up with him and the pink corner tugged up in mischief, “Ooooh.” he repeated, suddenly very close, his energy, his body, his heart, inches from being one with you. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, oh yes.” you confirmed, slotting your lips against his gently only to be met with eager, desperate need in his own kisses.

Your childhood bed was narrow and the counterpane below you familiar and dear, stitched by your mother in colors you’d once wished to update upon entering maturity. Now, laid out in perfect security and familiarity, you watched Buck Cleven dangle a toe off the abyss before diving in, pausing to caress the blanket beside your hip, smiling to himself.

“What?” you were breathless to know every thought in that dear head.

“My mama made me one, looks lots like this.” his eyes were watery soft yet his smile was glad, his hips narrow and sharp in the cradle of your own, stark hipbones not yet padded by your mother’s cooking pressed you down into the bedding, grounded and right. “You’ve made me real at home here.” he whispered and it pleased you ever so much. “Do I dare take this last liberty?” he muttered as if to himself, even as those blue orbs bore into your own, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt and you ached from need long deferred and the weight of remedy lying heavy between your thighs.

“It’s no liberty,” you whispered, catching his dog tags and bringing his face to yours, the size of the man so very apparent now he was hovering above you, “it’s yours.” you watched his pupils blow out at the statement, his ragged breath fanned minty across your face, even angels wield swords. “I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours.” he concluded.

With that exchange of truths something snapped between you, like a ribbon cut, gone was the hesitant cordiality and deference that had marked your courtship. Here now was fierce possession and the gloated satisfaction of those who possess something cherished and are no longer kept from partaking of it, buckles and garters snapped in the quiet room and the rustle of sheets and shirts wafting to the floor made your breaths hitch with anticipation. Precious flesh came into touch with every brush and it was enough for many minutes merely to cling and grasp, imprinting desire into the back and the arms and the throat of each other, like an armor of love against the decay of death.

“Yours, yours.” you swore as his finger played you once more, his breathing hard and rough in your ear, harsh commands for you to say it again and again, reminding you he was fearsome when he wanted to be.

“Don’t look,” he begged when you realized through a haze of joy what he was about, pressing in with all the finesse of a cricket bat knocking at the wicket, hoarse and doe eyed above you, there was only the whine, “please, darlin’ don’t look, just, my eyes, please.”

It was a fumbling entry but nature and pleasure prevailed, as it had since the first couple. And dear boy that he was, he knew you had indulged in a leg up, one or two at least, before he came along but still, he could not bear it for you to see more, not this time. He wanted it just to be the kisses and the sight of your precious face contorting at the fullness of your belly and the force of his hunger for you. All the rest were vulgar details left somewhere under your skirts, and, unbeknownst to him, reflected in your childhood mirror situated on the wall behind his plump arse.

“Oh god.” he had choked out, winded and in awe as his body shook at the feel of you accepting him deep, “You’re a slice of heaven, heaven that’s-that’s what you fee- oh god, oh god.”

He had giggled at the absurdity of this dance and then broke off with a moan that made you giggle in turn and back and forth it went as his body jerked into yours as if he’d no control over it, led quite literally by the part of himself buried inside you. He knew it was foal-like and a poor showing as a lover and he also knew you didn’t care a bit, your eyes wide at the size of the intrusion and captivated by the sight of his newly enlightened face.

“You alright?” he asked urgently, as a sudden and familiar feeling took over his body. The feeling of his brakes giving out, his flaps malfunctioning, the hydraulics failing -it took over him, his spine tingling and his vision beginning to blur and only your punched out gasps and sweet smile wavering on his horizon as the frantic, masculine, natural need to drive in deep enough to puncture your heart seized him and propelled him in you, against you, above you with such force you forgot to breath. For all Egan’s teasing of Buck’s hatred for athletics, the man wasn’t shabby when it came down to it, even after months of internment, or maybe due to that stolen time, his life force seemed to pour out in a torrent and your belly buzzed at the sweet abuse.

“I’m perfect.” you managed at some point, “You’re perfect, so perfect.”

He shuddered at the praise and as if terror struck him then, he was suddenly pulling away and moaning “I should- I shouldn’t -I’m gonna, darlin, I’m gonna lose it-“ and young and sweet and clumsy as anything he rutted against your slick frantically, mouth pressed to yours until the hot gush of his satisfaction spilled out and added to the mind fuzzing feel of him sliding against your little pearl.

You encouraged his shaky limbs to collapse on you, the lanky frame of him a sweet weight, sweaty cheek pressed to your breast, you could feel the dopey curve of his smile against your plump flesh. His hair curled at the nape from the sweat of his exertions, all winter chill forgotten in this bed. War and missions and bombs, too. You petted each other for a while before he raised his head and, gazing at you adoringly, he murmured “thank you.” his nose nudging yours and the steadiest of kisses lingering in the tingly aftermath.

“Darlin?” he broached the subject a while later, cheek again pressed to your chest and his fingers sliding in a hypnotic caress over your thigh.

“Yeah, Buck?”

“Later,” he prefaced, tentative and raw, “when -when the war’s over, and when, well, when I can make my own promises…”

Your heart hammered beneath his ear and you squeezed your legs around him, as if to shore him up enough to say what you wanted him to say so very badly. “Yes?”

“Would you marry me then?” he begged and somehow you knew this, what you had just indulged in, was never going to happen without that hope for him.

Perhaps that’s why it felt so strong, like a communion of souls more than anything else. “I’ve half a mind to make you wait and get my answer when you come back tomorrow.” you teased and his head reared up with a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Don’t you dare.” he warned, grin breaking out despite himself.

The sound of the front latch grating on the door startled you both but he pressed you down when you went to scamper and clothe yourself. “The door’s closed anyway,” he argued in a whisper but you knew he felt as nervous as you at being caught, if not more so, yet still he was a stubborn one. His hand was firm and large clasping your cheek, expression arch and expectant. “Promise you’ll be a good little girl and say yes when I do ask.”

You laughed at his gall, to make you wait, to make you promise when he wasn’t even proposing. But then again -you had said you were his, and he was yours. It had already been done. Sometimes life was as simple as Gale Cleven made it out to be.

“I promise.” you whispered happily, bringing him back down to your embrace and willing away thoughts of tomorrow and flagging him out to danger.

One day he’d come back for good. One you could make promises again. Until then, there was hope.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed. Feedback is a writers lifeblood, I’d adore hearing your thoughts. 💋

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