#half seeing how i can spin my usual ones on their head a bit

[ohsweetflips]

3, 7, and 15 for Rhodes for the Rook questions

@dancing--lights asked: 3, 7, 12, and 15 for the Rook & Companion asks for Rhodes? 👀

combining these two so that i can answer them all in one go 👀

3) What animal/monster would Davrin carve for your Rook?

ohhhh my god it feels lowk basic to say a cat but honestly. rhodes loves cats and, if davrin ever asked what animal they wanted a carving of, they would immediately say a cat. probably laying in that loaf-like way cats do :)

with davrin's art, i think that is something that rhodes is just so fascinated by. like, they're a very tactile/physical person, they're not someone who doesn't appreciate the arts (or writing/reading/anything of that caliber) but it's just so far out of their wheelhouse so like. 100% someone who can just watch and be enchanted by davrin's work. they also absolutely closely examine each of his carvings + the first time they ever saw/looked through his monster manual, they might as well have been dealing with a newborn w/ how carefully they were handling it

7) Does your Rook join Bellara in her technical talks about the Fade and various artifacts or are they more content to listen?

i think rhodes can to some extent join her in these talks bc they were veiljumpers together and they Know what she's talking about. however. i think bellara was more into the science-magic side of veiljumping/defusing artifacts than they were. so it's more like they are very enthusiastically listening to her talk abt artifacts while chiming in with their own experiences.

to rhodes, bellara is one of the smartest people they know so they're like her hype-man and love listening to her actually talk through the magic of what they do while they're out on missions. for all intents and purposes, they do understand the magic of what they do, but if they had a designated role within the veiljumpers, it was probably to help secure areas and make sure everything is safe/undisturbed so that people like, for instance, bellara could disarm artifacts easily.

i see their friendship as very brain-and-brawn but very similar energy/enthusiasm. i don't remember what reason veilguard gave for it seeming like bellara and veiljumper!rook don't know each other pre-game but it worked in strife's favor bc the two of them probably would've been a great duo but rhodes' impulsivity + bellara's curiosity probably would've caused like. at least a couple headaches for him lmao

12) [Does Taash] bring your Rook 'round the Hall of Valor to drink often?

i like to think so! taash is one of their close friends in the veilguard and they are endlessly entertained by isabela so whenever taash mentions that they're going to the hall of valor, they're like 👀👀👀

also even just. thinking abt it now. rhodes probably gets rowdy when drunk which definitely would add some more fun to the already-fun crowd that frequents the hall of valor

15) Bonus: What is one thing a companion does to cheer up your Rook if they're feeling down?

i so badly want to say something w/ davrin for this but honestly. ever since bellara's quest with the funeral rites for cyrian. i have not been able to shake literally physically working through your grief and like. ik that is Specifically for funerals but i feel like that can also extend to just Working Through Things and that is what rhodes would take to best.

like, as much as they are (or try to be) attentive to their friends' feelings, they are weirdly out-of-touch with their own. they're not leaping to talk abt their feelings and they're very much the kind to be like "eh, it's fine, i can deal with this later" bc they have always been a very On The Move person and just believe that they can "come back to things" later - and, surprise! things tend to feel worse later!

like. i'm still working out a lot with rhodes but it's like. 50/50 they're like "shit got worse and now i'm suddenly feeling every bad emotion at once, starting first and foremost with anger" or they're like "this will fix itself later :)" *does nothing to fix it*

and i'm torn bc, on the one hand, i think it's funny if bellara is just like "hey! you should come to arlathan forest. with me! for something :)" and rhodes is like "oh yeah of course cool veiljumper shit" and it's only when they're like halfway through climbing some trees or shit that they're like "wait this is helping me work through shit"

however, on the other hand, i don't think bellara would be the type of person To be "secretive" or whatever about it, so i think she'd just be open and tell rhodes that she thinks this would help them. and they, in their stubborn way, don't know if it actually Will but they don't like saying no to her, so they'll go and then very tail-between-their-legs admit that it does work.

and then this happens repeatedly and each time rhodes is like. "ah fuck. you're right. this does help."

like. tldr. the thought of bellara and rhodes having a heart-to-heart while climbing through bushes is so dear to me

[kupidachillea]

Could we have more Olympians x Reader? Maybe some slight nsfw and perhaps some time with Apollo?

Olympians x You (Hcs or imagines )

Author note: I usually do SFW but that doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally do NSFW if it’s light or not full on smut. I don’t think I’m brave enough for that and if I did I’d make a separate blog for it😭🙏 but I hope you enjoy

TW (trigger warning):This may have a few Yandere themes in it. And while the Olympians themselves aren’t really yanderes- they do share similar tendencies considering their myths. Please note that this isn’t completely accurate to their mythology- but it’s just a bit of fun so please take no offence and be nice in the comments.

CW (content warning)⚠️: readers either18+ (to read this I mean). This work contains NSFW themes, mentions of nudity, molesting and sexual harassment and assault, non-con, dubcon, toxic behaviour. General (hinted) Yandere behaviour, feeding of bodily fluids (blood[?])Reader’s discretion is advised.

⚠️ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE ⚠️

🏺- You had been growing use to it..if that was the right term. Perhaps not ‘use to’ it but more along the lines of growing more accustomed to it. Being on Olympus wasn’t exactly all fun and games.

🪡- But of course you weren’t allowed to complain about it. You certainly weren’t allowed to complain when one of them would suddenly just pick you up and take you to their chambers. You already knew what that meant.

🏺- You’d find yourself pinned under one more more god, their hands caressing your body, their teeth leaving deep marks that you wouldn’t dream of calling ‘love bites’ there wasn’t nothing ‘loving’ about those bites. No matter how much they preach and repeat it.

🪡- Some days it would be one god after the other, other times you’d get a break. But there’s only some much a human can go through. One moment you’d be in the garden or somewhere with Hermes, his lips on your nether regions, sucking and licking at you while another moment you’d be bounced up and down on Ares while Aphrodite made out with you.

🏺- It made your head spin at times. Most times you were scared, who wouldn’t? It’s not like the men here had manhoods that looked anything like human..maybe an enough to look familiar in shape but still. Zeus was one such example, you actually remember begging him not to go through with it- afraid that the thing between his legs would split you in half but he would only laugh and hike your legs over his shoulders and whisper: “It’s okay little mortal.. we’ll do this as much times as we need for you to get accustomed to my size..”

🪡- Those words alone sent a shiver down your spine at the time. After that you weren’t able to walk properly for a few days. Not that the gods care, most of them found it funny. To see their little pet struggling to walk after such intense intimacy. “Poor thing, can’t even walk properly.” Poseidon would coo while watching you carefully ease yourself into the pool of water.

🏺- The sight alone made him excited and decided at that moment he wanted to help you ‘relax’…it wasn’t very relaxing to you. You would whimper as he sunk under the water and immediately attracted his lips to your hole.

🪡- Of course there were many instances like this but there were times where they did leave you alone and you did get time to yourself. Today was one of those days.

🏺- You were sat outside in the garden, fiddling with flowers and and grass blades. It was quiet for awhile and you actually had time to reflect on everything you’ve experienced. Sometimes it was good, other times it was bad..very bad and thought the Olympians tried to make you feel comfortable, you think that they don’t necessarily understand the word.

🪡- While you were thinking, you didn’t notice someone approaching you until a shadow of a man was cast over your body, blocking out the sun. You already knew it was one of the Olympians but you didn’t know which one until he spoke and that’s when you turned around.

🏺- “Ah, there you are, mortal..” Apollo spoke, a bright smile on his face as he crouched down next to you. “Relaxing in the garden I see..” He would mutter and you immediately got an off vibe..he wants something. As most of the gods did when they approached or summoned you, regardless you nodded to his statement as you fiddled with a petal of one of the asters that were growing in the garden.

🪡- Apollo smiled in response before speaking once more. “That’s good, that’s good..but perhaps you could relax with me? We could go to my chambers where no one would bother us…” The golden haired god spoke, his voice smooth as he held your chin between his larger fingers. You tried your best not to seem apprehensive at his request but you couldn’t exactly deny him..could you? You opened your mouth to try and voice your opinion but Apollo spoke before you.

🏺- “Please, my dear?” He pouted a bit, trying to make you agree and after a mental back and forth you reluctantly agreed. This made Apollo beam and he wasted no time in picking you up and dashing over to his quarters.

☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️

☀️- After Apollo got you situated and ‘comfortable’ in his room, he laid on the bed in the spot next to you.

🎵- You were quiet as you fiddled with your chiton and he tilted his head curiously. “Relax, my dear. It’s just us..” He spoke.. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the slightest bit charming. Apollo would shuffle closer to you and wrap his arms around your body. His fingers moving to caress your skin causing you to tense up a bit.

☀️- Apollo figured you’d still be apprehensive, but he thought he could get you to loosen up a bit. And so he continued to gently feel up your body, trying to coax you to relax a bit.

🎵- You were going to protest about the touching but Apollo quickly covered your lips with his own. He did this on purpose..wanting to silence your words that might ruin the moment. Your eyes widened and on instinct you tried to push him away, but he kept himself firmly against you. Kissing your lips and letting out a soft groan as his hand slipped under your chiton.

☀️- You obviously flinched, letting out a muffled squeak that caused the deity of light to chuckle. He could tell you were starting to slowly give in and kiss back, even if he could still feel the anxious beats of your heart. He decided to take things a step further.

🎵- Pinning you down to his bed and and moving his fingers to your hole. Teasingly rubbing his thumb over the opening as he moved his lips over to your neck, placing gently kisses as you whimpered. He then slowly fed you one of his fingers and bit his bottom lip at how your body tensed and gripped his index finger. He could never get tired of the way your body felt.

☀️- “There you go…that’s it…~” He would purr before adding another finger and scissoring your entrance then slowly pumping his fingers in and out. Curling them and stroking the spot inside you he knew would make you cry out. Your back arched a you whined, calling out his name as your hands immediately reached to grab for something..anything.

🎵- Apollo grinned and kissed your lips once more..adding a third fingers and moving them at a steady pace..not hard enough to hurt but not too slow either. All this was getting to him too but he wanted to focus on you mainly. For now at least…

☀️- He had you twitching and shivering from all the pleasure and the deity had drawn a few climaxes from you as well. You were panting and out of breath by the time he was done and he finally gave you a break..removing his fingers from your women out hole as he peppered your cheek with kisses.

🎵- “Mmm..such a pretty mortal..you did so well…you deserve a reward..” He would say before firmly pressing his lips against yours once more. At first you thought it was just a normal passionate kiss..but you suddenly felt a liquid like substance run down your tongue and down your throat.

☀️- Your eyes slightly widened as a slight burning feeling started to engulf your body. Your hands immediately reaching to try and push Apollo away, but he just groaned softly and caged your body between him and the bed. His tongue running over yours, sucking on the wet muscle and coating it with more of the golden liquid..

🎵- The more of this liquid he fed you the more your body started to feel like it was burning from the inside out. Your heart beating faster as the substance dribbled and leaked from the corner of your mouth. Tears burning in your eyes as you ingested every last drop he gave you.

☀️- Soon enough your heart stopped as you let out a muffled cry while Apollo gently rubbed your hips..pulling his lips away from yours and whispering that you’d be okay. He held you in his arms as you laid ‘dead’ for a minute or so before your heart started to beat once more; and Apollo smiled.

🎵- It was done..he had fed you his immortal blood..his ichor and now you’d never die. Or maybe you did..your old self..but that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you’d never be able to escape them ever again..not even in death…they made sure of that.

Author note: Oof, sorry this took a long while. I’ll admit I wasn’t very focused and I procrastinated a bit. But on top of that I had things at home doing. Though I’m glad I finished it, usually if things take this long I like to post screenshots to show ppl I haven’t forgotten. I was just so slow to get this out. Sorry again but I hope this is to your liking, Anon! And to everyone else.

[motthe]

Hello! If you're taking requests, can I pls have young!Silco and reader dancing in the Last Drop during an event/celebration?

I've been listening to all the bangers in the S2 soundtrack and the Ekko + Powder dance in ep 7 has my heart, they're so young and carefree 🥺 Maybe reader comes through the door all glammed up, leaving Silco awestruck and his mind spinning ✨ Cue him being all stiff on the dance floor but reader encourages him to dance with them. No revolutionary leader this time, just a young man in love 💖

Pls feel free to modify this as much you like, your writing for Arcane has me in a choke hold, esp Young! Silco and Viktor ones. Thank you! 🥺♥️

+ @locinne : hii can i request silco and reader sharing a cig or just having a moment together.

It’s a lively time for the Last Drop. Silco’s used to a crowd most nights—the bar stood as a comfort for many wandering souls in the Lanes—but not one of this wild nature. While he didn’t enjoy the noise, he couldn’t judge the people’s delight. It was a celebration, after all, the after party of a wedding of one of Vander’s friends.

“At least drink, Sil,” Felicia called over the music, a soft hand curling over his shoulder. “I’d give anything for one.”

He smirked to himself, turning from his seat at the bar to eye her swollen stomach before meeting her tired gaze.

“I’ll bring your favorite bottle as soon as the little troublemaker is born,” he promised.

She grinned and sat next to him, cupping an arm under belly as she got settled. “Where’s your party spirit?”

“Have you ever seen me entertain such gatherings in the time we’ve known one another?” he questioned in return.

“I’ve seen you drink at the very least.”

“I’ve had a glass,” he admitted. “I’d rather not nurse a hangover like half of the Lanes tomorrow.”

She purses her lips, head swiveling to scan the crowd. “So it’s not because a certain someone isn’t here yet?”

“Now, you’re reaching,” he chuckled.

“And you’re waiting,” she laughed right back, nudging him with her shoulder. “One glass to loosen up but you don’t want to lose your charming wit, huh?”

“I think that baby of yours is stealing precious brain power.” He twisted back to the counter where his journal lied with countless plans and future prospects.

A sharp whistle came from Felicia in response, but it was when she patted his arm with the back of her hand that he realized it wasn’t towards him.

He glanced over his shoulder, breath seizing as your frame stepped through the doors. You were practical with your everyday style, but tonight you’d brought out a few pieces he’d never seen. You were a feast for the eyes and he’d been starving since you’d left the wedding venue.

“Feeling parched?” Felicia’s voice snapped him back to present as he saddled her with a soft glare.

You were mingling with the happy couple of the night, passing greetings. He needed to recover. That one glass of whiskey felt a bit too warm in his stomach now.

“I’m going to step out for a smoke,” he said, cutting her off with a shake of his head as she went to disagree. The path to the door was relatively clear and you were too busy with conversation to clock him as he slipped into the shadow of night.

As the door closed behind him, you found Felicia at the bar, smiling bright enough for her to see it across the bar as she laughed and twiddled her fingers at her temple. You finished up with the people around you before scurrying over and wrapping your arms around the woman.

“You look amazing,” she said, taking in your outfit.

“Thank you.” You stepped back, taking in her stomach. “How are you feeling?”

She groaned instead of answering, the both of you embracing each other again as you fell into laughter.

“Ay, there you are!” You looked behind her to find Vander. “The usual?”

“Sure,” you called, observing the spot next to Felicia. “Silco out?”

She raised two fingers to her lips as you nodded, accepting the glass sliding down the counter. It was a sipper, but you downed that shit in one gulp.

“I’m dragging that man back in here. He needs to socialize.”

“Yes!” Felicia cried, patting your back. “Please, Gods, he needs to let loose.”

“What’re you two scheming?” Vander shouted over the song, eyes narrowing.

��I can’t hear you!” you lied, putting your glass down as you headed off. Felicia just laughed.

Pushing through the crowd as more people filtered out to dance, you shivered as you stepped out into the cool night. The moment the door shut behind you everything became muffled leaving you to the distant ambience of the Lanes.

Looking to your left, you smiled to yourself as you spotted the figure leaning against the wall, the tip of a cigar mounting from red to bright orange as he took a deep drag.

As soon as you stepped towards his corner his head turned, a dark eyebrow ticking up in question.

“All by your lonesome,” you hummed, shuffling up to his side and eyeing his past time. “Those the ones I got you?”

He held out a few seconds before expelling it away from you. “Splendid choice.”

You smiled, the scent clinging to each word. If it was between his secondhand smoke or oxygen, you’d wouldn’t live long.

“I’ll return momentarily.”

“Not here to rush you,” you said. “Just wanted to see you.”

The silence while enough to unnerve you at times was warm as it filled the minute space between you. A hidden smile in the corner of his lips was enough of a push (and maybe that double pour). You reached for the collar of his shirt, fixing a crease. He tilted his head away but moved closer, accepting the preening.

“Look good dressed up.”

He shook his head as you withdrew, taking in another pull. “I’m afraid you’ve got me beat, pet.”

Holding up the cigar, you happily leaned back into his space, wrapping your lips around the end and breathing in.

“Mm,” you let the smoke spill from your nose, the flavor settling over your tongue, “damn, that is nice.”

He watched you, keeping his thoughts to himself as you rested your head agaisnt the wall. You wished you could read him, understand that look that overcame him in the quieter moments like this.

“Dance with me,” you asked, gentle as you tugged at his sleeve.

“You’re asking the wrong person,” he rumbled, focusing back on your little gift from months back.

“No, I’m not.”

Another warm beat of silence.

“I don’t dance.”

“Just one,” you begged, fingertips brushing the side of his hand. “Just dance with me once, and I’ll leave you to your lonesome if that’s what you want.”

His jaw flexed, another cloud dispersed. When he stubbed the cigar out, you were practically beaming, happily pulling at his elbow back into the bar.

Almost everyone was dancing, leaving the two of you to blend seamlessly into the crowd as lights flickered and colors crossed. Silco was stiff—a common occurrence in most settings—but with your guiding hands you got him to sway. Making a fool of yourself, spinning circles around him, it was enough to get him chuckling and nodding along until his feet followed yours in a fever across the floor.

When the fast paced song melded into something slower, you prepared for him to move away but his arms slipped around your waist, your chests grazing as he led you into a new rhythm.

“You don’t dance?” you asked him, voice lilting as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“In this, I’m capable,” he replied, forehead brushing yours, sending your heart into a frenzy, “and I’d rather not be by my lonesome. Not now that you’re here.”

Holding back the grin that’d make anyone look stupid (but you most of all), you rested your head against his shoulder as you both swayed together.

In the background, Felicia cheered glasses with Vander at the bar, happily sipping on her juice as he sipped his whiskey.

[sturniqlo]

TWO STRESSED MINDS- MATT STURN

summary: y/n, a current college student, is caught up with studying before her finals start. and she's stressed to say the least. matt and his brothers make a mess as they filmed their video and y/n promises to clean the mess, what happens when a stressed out matt gets home and the mess isn't cleaned up?

cw: angst, crying, yelling, stress, fluff

an: thank you to the lovely @monroesturnns for the idea

masterlist | join my taglist

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

"That's one class done." Y/n sighs as she closes her book and moves all of her notes for that one class to the side. She blinks a couple of times as she closes out all of her tabs, opening new ones for her other class. She had now been studying for about an hour and a half. Unfortunately, she was stressed out of her mind as finals were coming up really quickly.

"Hi, baby. We're about to start filming the video." Matt comes through the opened door of their shared bedroom. "Oh okay, I'll be in here still. Studying." She spins on the desk chair to face Matt, rubbing her eyes from all the reading and bright light from her computer.

"Are you sure you don't want to come and watch us film for a bit, get a break from all your studying? You've been cooped up in here for almost two hours. You need a break." He takes a couple of steps towards her and he rubs her shoulders as she looks up at him.

"As much as I would love too, I want to get all of this reading and writing studying done before tomorrow since I'm going to do all of my lab studying tomorrow on campus." She sighs in relief as Matt massages her tense shoulders. "Alright-" Matt gets cut off by Nick yelling. "Matt, come on!" Y/n giggles.

"I'll be back in a bit, want me to shut the door? We're gonna be pretty loud." He kisses her forehead. "Please." She says. "Okay, don't stress yourself out. You'll do prefect on your finals." He reassures her, he knows how anxious and stressed out she's been since finals are getting closer and closer. "I'll try not to."

Matt soon leaves the room and quietly shuts the door. Y/n turns back to the desk and opens yet another book for her next class. "Fucking hate this class." She mumbles to herself, grabbing her pen to start writing notes. Soon enough she starts hearing the loud commotion coming from the kitchen which was really close to her and Matt's room. She didn't mind it, in all honesty it helped her more knowing that they were having much more fun than she was made her study faster so she can try and catch them and watch them for a bit.

Unfortunately by the time the triplets finished filming their video, she was only half way through her studying for the class she had started on when the boys started filming. "Still studying?" Matt closes the door behind him, she didn't even hear him opening the door, to focused in her work. "Hey, didn't hear you come in. And yes, unfortunately. I still have three more classes to study for." Y/n puts her pen down, taking a mini break.

Matt takes a seat in the unmade bed, Y/n usually has done every morning after they get up but this morning she had to meet up with one of her classmates and share some notes from class, "We're going to head out to the warehouse, the merch got there so we can start packing and sending out orders." He says, frowning at Y/n's tired face. She had light under eye bags, looked a bit pale and her lips were red from the excessive biting.

"And we probably won't be back until late at night." Y/n nodded. "Oh okay, I'll probably be asleep by the time you get here, I'm exhausted and I'm still not finished." She sighs. They keep a conversation for bit until Matt realizes it's time to go. "I'll see you tonight, okay? I love you." He gives her a kiss on the lips. "I love you more."

Y/n took a break from studying after the triplets left and decided to order herself some lunch. When she got the notification that the food had arrived, she quickly ran out to get it, not paying any mind to the state of their home. She ate, tossing the trash in the trash can they had in their room and went back to studying.

Sometime between four and five in the afternoon, Y/n's phone buzzed causing her to wake up lifting her head up from her book, grabbing her phone still half asleep.

matt<3

hi baby, i know this is too much to ask for but can you clean the kitchen for us? we're having people over tomorrow around ten to film a video. thank you sooo much. i love you! be home soon :))

Y/n, too tired to read any more words, just replied with a simple okay even though she didn't know what she was saying okay to. She got comfy, resting her head on the desk once more and took another nap. It to have been thirty minutes later because it was now 5:39pm and she gasps looking at the time. "Shit- why'd I sleep for so long?" She pulled up her third class' study guide and got back to what she was doing before.

Three hours later, Matt was finally home. As he walked through the door he went up the stairs and was met with the same mess in the kitchen. "What the hell? I thought she was gonna clean it up?" He said angrily, running a hand across his face. "Matt, it's okay. She's-" Nick started but Matt didn't care to hear any of it and went to their joint room and closed the door behind him.

"Didn't I tell you to clean the kitchen?" He spoke loudly, causing Y/n to get startled as she didn't hear in come in. "Oh- Matt you're home." She said. "Didn't I tell you to clean the kitchen?" He said once more. "No you didn't?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "Yes I did! I clearly sent you a message and you replied with okay." Y/n finally realized that was the message she had received earlier. "Oh my god! I'm sorry, I was half asleep when I saw the message I didn't even read it." Matt grew angrier.

"Were you even studying this whole time I was gone? Or were you busy sleeping?" Y/n is taken back, Matt has never yelled or raised his voice at her. "Hey, what's gotten into you?" She says softly, trying not to rile him up even more. Standing up and walking toward him, she tries to wrap her arm around him but he pushes her arms back to her.

"No, you were here the whole afternoon and couldn't get off your ass to clean the fucking kitchen? Me, Nick and Chris are having people over tomorrow, do you know how embarrassing it is for people to walk in and see the mess?" Y/n starts to tear up. "M- Matt, I'm sorry, I'll go clean it right now, okay? I'll- I'll put my studying to the side." Tears roll down her cheeks. "You couldn't even make the fucking bed? It's the least you could've done! You're useless around here." He yells.

"Matt." She whimpers, sniffling as her tears continue to fall. "Hey, Matt. That's enough." Nick suddenly appears behind Matt. Y/n wipes her tears, not wanting him to see her like this. "Nick, get out. This isn't any of your business." He turns around and looks at him. "You're making her cry! You're doing too much. She's busy studying, she can't just drop everything and do whatever you tell her to."

"Nick, it's okay." She says. "No, Y/n, it's not just because he had a shitty afternoon doesn’t mean he should take it out on you." He looks at Y/n before looking back at Matt. "Chris is cleaning the kitchen, let Y/n finish her studying." Matt doesn't budge. "No, let her clean it. She's done nothing all day." Y/n has had enough. "Are you hearing yourself, Matt?! Do you not see my desk? My fucking eye bags? I've been studying all day!" She motions the desk that's littered with papers, books, notes and her open laptop.

"I- Nick can I sleep with you tonight?" She lowers her voice and looks at Nick. "Of course, let this fool cool down for the night." Y/n grabs the remaining of her notes for her leftover class, her laptop, and phone before heading out the room with Nick.

"I'm sorry about him. Anything he said is not true. He probably hasn't even picked up a broom ever since you went on vacation last year." He tries to lighten up the mood. "Thanks, Nick. Can I use your desk to finish studying?" He nods. "Go ahead, I'm going to go help Chris." He leaves the room, lightly closing the door behind him.

Coming down the stairs and rounding the corner he sees Matt helping Chris with cleaning the kitchen. "Is she- can I go talk to her?" Matt says, tossing away a couple of dirty napkins. Nick shakes his head. "She has so much on her mind right now, try tomorrow." Matt sighs, knowing Nick is right. He had lashed out on her knowing she was already stressed.

The next morning came and Y/n woke up before her alarm in Nicks bed. She yawned, sitting up and stretching. Carefully, she threw the covers off of her and walked to the desk to collect her belongings. Knowing everyone was still asleep in the house, she quietly trodded to the bathroom to use the toilet and brush her teeth.

Quietly entering her and Matt's bedroom she found Matt still sound asleep, fully clothed in the outfit he came home with. Y/n placed her materials in her tote bag so she wouldn't forget them. She picked out an outfit and grabbed a towel so she could take a shower. After her shower she let her hair air dry and did a bit of makeup. Everything she did, she did it as quiet as possible so Matt wouldn't wake up.

She made herself a quick breakfast and once she finished eating, she washed her dish, as always, and entered the room once again to grab her bag and key so she can head out. "Hey, where're you going?" She hears Matt groggily say from their bed. "I'm going to study my lab experiments." Y/n starts to leave the room but Matt quickly gets up and gently grabs her arm.

"Wait, can- can we talk?" Hs says, his eyes still trying to focus on the bright light outside. "Matt, I- I have to go now or I'll be running late in a bit." He frowns. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I understand if you're still mad at me." Y/n gives a sad smile. "I'm not mad anymore or upset. I know you weren't mad over me not cleaning. Nick told me something happened at the warehouse?" He nods.

"We can talk when I get back this afternoon?" She grabs his hand. "Okay, yeah. That sounds good." He smiles. "I love you." Matt whispers. "I love you more." She kisses Matt on the lips. "I'll see you later, okay?"

That afternoon, Y/n returned exhausted from trying to perfect certain chemistry experiments and hearing her professor repeat the same words over and over to her. "It's almost there, just add a bit more of that." He would say and point to a certain chemical. "I'm home." She said loudly, placing her bag on the table. "Hi, baby. Chris and Nick are out." He came out their room, going over to her to place a kiss on her lips.

"Hi, babe. Where'd they go?" She walked to the fridge to get a cold bottle of water. "They went out with the people who came over earlier." He said. "Mm, have you eaten? I can make something really quickly." She walked back over to him throwing her arms over his neck and he holds her waist. "I haven't yet- I thought we could go out for lunch." She nodded at his suggestion.

"Can we talk first?" He said, rubbing her waist. "Sure, let's go to our room?" Matt nodded. In their room, Y/n kicked her shoes off and got comfy. "I want to start off by saying I'm sorry for everything- and I mean everything I said yesterday. I didn't mean a single word. I don't even know why I asked you to clean the table, you were so busy with studying and I know how much it was draining you. I just- half of the merch that came in was defective and we were trying to get in contact with the company who made it and then Chris had mentioned people were going to come to our house I panicked and texted you and then came home stressed out and lashed out on you. I'm sorry, please forgive me? I can promise you I will never ever raise my voice at you." He pulls out a bouquet of flowers and a small bear from out of nowhere and she's stunned.

"I forgive you," She gasps and grabs the items from him. "Thank you baby." She sets them down next to her and goes to sit on his lap. "I think we both need to take a day for ourselves and have a stress free day." She moves the hair out of his eyes. "Can we have it together?" He says. "Of course." She whispers, before placing her lips on his. Seconds later Matt's stomach growls.

"But first let's get you some food and put my flowers in a vase." She giggles.

[starsinthesky5]

sweetest surprise || joe burrow x reader

description: a confusing and uncomfortable few days results in the sweetest surprise :)

a/n: an unplanned fic before I get back into YAIL and YBWM! this one was on the ML for a while so I decided to get into it on my very lengthy drive home from texas so this is definitely not my best writing since I was half asleep when writing half of this but i hope you guys like it regardless :) 

the fic jumps around a bit to certain moments so hopefully it’s easy to follow!

warnings: language, mentions of sex

word count: 14 k

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November 21st

You felt a set of soft and delicate lips pepper featherlight kisses around your face, the lips felt extremely cozy and warm like you were being touched by a cloud-like plush blanket. You slowly opened your eyes and were met with your husband towering over you, a cheeky grin on his face as daylight filled your once-dark bedroom. 

“Someone slept in,” he laughed.

You turned your head to the side to see the time, the clock reading 9:32 am, 2 and a half hours past the time you were supposed to get up. You slept through the early alarm you had set to get up and make Joe his usual game-day breakfast and prepare for the game as you were busy the night before with your friends. Not to mention you and Joe were hosting a family dinner party after the game and the house was an absolute mess. 

“Oh my god, I don’t know how I slept in,” you say as you sit up quickly, but maybe a little too quickly as you feel dizzy all of a sudden. You reached for your head to stabilize yourself, the room slightly spinning as you tried to gather yourself. 

“Hey, you okay?” Joe asked as he grabbed your hands and sat down in front of you. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Just felt a little dizzy,”. 

“Does your head hurt?” he asked as he moved your hair out of your face, his voice laced with concern. “Do you need water?”. 

“Nope, I think I just sat up too fast,” you nodded. “I’m good on water though, thanks. Sorry about sleeping in, I don’t know how that happened. I was supposed to make your breakfast and you’re probably starving right now and you have to leave in a little bit,” you said as you looked down at your hands that he was rubbing with his soft fingers. 

“You don’t need to say sorry, you deserve to sleep in once and a while since you sacrifice your weekends for me & football,” he chuckles. 

“Yeah but now everything is thrown off since you don’t have anything to eat, there’s only a few hours till kickoff and I don’t even know what I’m wearing, and we have family coming over after the game and the house is a mess,” you say, your breaths getting shorter as visible panic sets in. 

“Woahh, let’s breathe for a second,” Joe says, now rubbing his hands on your thighs to help calm you down which always worked. “You don’t need to worry about anything. I grabbed us breakfast on the way home from the team hotel, you can wear one of my Bengals hoodies and leggings because you look beautiful in everything and don’t need anything flashy to show that you’re my biggest fan, and I asked the housekeeper to come over while we’re at the game to clean up for the dinner tonight because I knew it would be a lot for you to juggle by yourself,”.

You sat there and stared at Joe for a few seconds, still unable to fully comprehend how he always managed to fix your problems with what felt like just the snap of his fingers. He’d always been able to easily ease your worries no matter how big or small even when you were dating, and now that you were married that hadn't changed. Joe had been the perfect boyfriend to you for many years and now was the perfect husband, you were truly the luckiest woman alive because you had someone so thoughtful and sincere by your side. 

“Thank youuu,” you said as you moved closer to him and pulled him in for a tight hug. “I don’t what I would do without you,”.

“It’s a good thing you don’t need to know what you’d do without me. I’m always here,” he smiled against your head. 

“Mmm, you’re the best,” you say as you melt in his arms. “I don’t know why I feel lazy and weird this morning,”. 

“We all have those days. I’m sure you’ll be fine by tonight,” he says as he rubs your back before pressing a kiss to your lips. The warmth radiating from his body makes you feel ten times better already. 

“I hope so,” you yawn. “What’d you grab for breakfast?” you ask as you pull away from the hug.

“I got us some muffins, fruit, and smoothies from that bakery you love downtown by the stadium,” he says as he gets up from the bed, putting out his hand to help you up.

“Oooo yum,” you chirp as you get up. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, just need to freshen up,”. 

“Yes ma’am,” he says as he presses another kiss to your cheek before getting up and walking out of your bedroom, a nice bounce in his step. At least one of you was having a good morning.  

You walk into the bathroom, pee, and then make your way over to the vanity to brush your teeth. After you brush your teeth, you take a good look at yourself in the mirror, noticing how your face looks more tired than usual—matching how you felt—and then you notice your stomach sticking out a little through your semi-tight sleep shirt. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have had those two milkshakes yesterday,” you murmured as you rubbed your hands over your seemingly bloated belly. “Bloated is not a cute look,”.  

You make your way down the stairs a few minutes later, watching Joe as he takes out the food from the bags and sets everything up on the table. “I got you a pumpkin banana muffin, a mixed fruit bowl with berries, pineapple, and mangos, and that Pacific Sunrise smoothie you like,” he smiles as you walk closer to him.

“All my favorites,” you grin as you lean across the table to press a kiss to his lips. “Such a good husband,”. 

“Only the finest variety for the best wife in the world,” he said as he popped a piece of pineapple into his mouth. 

“I’ll never get tired of hearing those words come out of your mouth,” you smile. 

“And I’ll never get tired of saying those words,” he winks as he pulls your chair out for you. 

You both sit down at the table with your breakfast and start to dig in. You finish up your bowl of fruit first and then move to the smoothie as you and Joe talk about the game and the dinner later. 

“My mom and aunt said they’ll bring over some food for a potluck-type thing. I checked the fridge and we have everything for hamburgers and hotdogs so we could probably use the grill,” he said as he took a sip of his smoothie.

“It’s freezing tonight so maybe try to make them inside,” you say as you take a sip of your smoothie, your face immediately scrunching up in disgust. 

“Yeah, that’s probably a better idea…Are you okay?” he says as he looks up and notices your face. 

“This smoothie tastes awful,” you cough as you push it away. 

“I thought it was your favorite?” he asked as he picked up the cup to read the label.

“It is, but this tastes so bad for some reason,” you reply. “Here, you take a sip,”.

Joe nods before taking a sip of the fruity smoothie, the taste seeming normal to him as his face stays the same. “It tastes like how it usually does to me, Tropical and a little Citrusy,” he says as he places the cup back down. 

“It just tastes strange, I don’t know why,” you gag as the aftertaste is even worse than the initial taste.  

“Maybe try the muffin?” He asks as he passes it to you. “You need something more than just fruit inside of your belly since I know you usually don’t eat much during the game,”. 

You nod and take a small bite of the muffin but you immediately put it down as it tastes just as bad as the smoothie. “That tastes bad too,”.

“That’s weird, you eat this all the time and it’s never been weird before,” he says as he inspects the muffin. “I don’t see anything wrong with it either,”. 

“I’ve been getting this same order from that Bakery every week for the past 4 years and I’ve never been grossed out by it before,” you frown. “I don’t understand why it tastes like rotten eggs to me and not you,”. 

“We can put them in the fridge and see tomorrow if it tastes better. Maybe it’s just your tastebuds or something,” he says as he gets up to put them inside the fridge.

“We can try but I don’t know how my tastebuds are going to change in 24 hours,” you giggle.

“Well clearly they changed since the last time you had the smoothie and muffin so let’s try it again tomorrow,” he smiled. 

“Whatever you say, Doctor,” you say as you playfully roll your eyes. 

A few hours later - Paycor Stadium 

There were about 20 minutes till kickoff and you were settled in the Burrow Suite with the family and a few other close WAGs. You grabbed a coffee and a bag of pretzels to snack on throughout the game since you barely had anything for breakfast this morning. The coffee was to help you stay awake since you woke up tired and were still feeling it hours later and you didn’t want to be groggy during the family dinner tonight. You listened to Joe and opted for one of his crewnecks and a pair of leggings for today's game, a little more lax than what you’d usually wear on game days but you were comfortable so that’s all that mattered. 

“Sounds like a weird morning,” Jess said after you told her how your morning went. 

“Oh, for sure. We all know I never sleep past my alarms so I don’t know what that was about and the breakfast thing was weird too,” you say as you pop a pretzel into your mouth, your stomach feeling a little weird as you sit there and watch the pregame preparations with your friend. 

“Hopefully you’re not sick or something. Can’t have you missing the annual WAGs party next week now that it was finally my turn to plan it,” she says as she pats your leg. 

“I hope I’m not sick. I don’t want to miss the party since I know how long you’ve been planning it for and that’s too much to handle right now since we’re getting into a crucial spot in the season. If Joe got sick right now, I would never be able to forgive myself,” you say as you squirm in your seat, feeling more and more uneasy as the seconds go by. You barely took a sip or bite of your breakfast this morning, so you couldn’t understand why your stomach was acting up. 

“I’m sure you’re fine. We all have days like that,” she says.

You let out a laugh, “Joe said the same thing,”. 

“Sam says that to me every time I have a bad morning,” she giggled.

“They really are the same person just in a different font, aren’t they?” you ask as you stand up to get a good look at the field to see if you can spot Joe, but as soon as you do, your stomach feels like it does a backflip and you feel a wave of nausea come over. 

You reach for your stomach, wrapping your arm around your belly in an attempt to make yourself feel better. Jess notices and stands up next to you, “Y/N? You good?” she asks as she places her hand on your shoulder. 

“I don’t know,” you say as you swallow. “I feel nauseous all of a sudden,”. 

“Here, take this water,” she says as she reaches for her water bottle. Before you could grab it, you felt a burning sensation in your throat and a cramp in your stomach, a sure sign that you were about to throw up. You put your hand over your mouth and run out of the suite and down the hall to the bathrooms. You swing open a stall and crouch down as you empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You hear footsteps behind you a few seconds later and then a hand holding your hair back, Jess must have walked in. 

“It’s alright, just breathe,” she says as she rubs your back with her free hand. A few moments later, you flush the toilet and sit down on the floor to process what just happened. 

“Here, I grabbed you water and some paper towels,” she said as she turned around to grab the things and hand them to you. “I think I have some mints in my bag so I’ll be right back,” she says as she gets up.

“T- Thanks,” you mumble as you wipe your face with the paper towels, taking a few deep breaths before you slowly get up and walk over to the sink to rinse your mouth out before taking a few sips of water. You look in the mirror and take a few more breaths, examining your tired face while trying to hold yourself together. 

“What the hell is wrong with me?” you whisper to yourself. 

A few hours later - End of the game

“Are you okay?” Joe asks as he engulfs you in a big hug after he walks out of the locker room. You were a little surprised that he found out so quickly but then you realize Jess must have told Sam and Sam must have told Joe and now you had to deal with Mama Bear Joe. Whenever you got sick he would baby the hell out of you even if it was something as minor as a cold or headache. 

“I think so,” you mumble against his neck. “I didn’t throw up again, thank god. But I still feel a bit shaken up,”. 

“You wanna cancel tonight’s dinner?” he asks as he rubs your back before pressing a few kisses to your forehead. 

“No, definitely not. We’ve been meaning to have them over for a while and I would hate to cancel last minute like that,” you say as you pull your head out of his neck. 

“Okay, then let’s go to the doctor real quick,” he says, his inner Mama Bear peeking through.

“Joe, No,” you say as you shake your head.

“Y/N, you threw up,” he said.

“I’m going to be fine,” you laugh. “It’s not like I passed out or something and I don’t even think any doctors are open since it’s Sunday afternoon,”.

“The team Doctors should still be here,” he says as he moves his head to see if he can spot them. 

“I know you’re worried but I’m fine. No need to bug anyone about it,” you say as you move your hands to cup his face, moving it back so that he is looking into your eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes softening out of concern for you.

“Positive,” you assure. 

“Okay,” he nods. “I wonder what made you throw up? It can’t be breakfast since you barely had anything to eat,” he says as releases you from the hug. He moves his hand down to yours and starts to lead you both back out to the car, hand in hand like usual. You’d always wait for him outside the locker room after a game so you could walk back out together to debrief. You both tried to keep post-game talk to a minimum once you got home especially if it was a bad game, so you got all of it out on the walk to the car and the drive home. 

“I honestly have no idea. I had two milkshakes yesterday but I don’t see how that would’ve made me throw up a day later, you say as you look up at him.

“Two?” he asks, his eyebrows shooting up as he gives you a look of confusion.

“I was craving milkshakes, Okay,” you laugh. “And before you judge me, let me remind you that you ate 5 slices of pizza in one sitting after the Divisional game last year,”.

“I was hungry,” he laughs. 

“And I was craving sweet treats,” you pout. 

“Okay, Fine,” he retreats. “If it wasn’t the shakes then maybe it’s a stomach bug? That could also be why you felt tired all day and slept in this morning,” he says as he squeezes your hand.

“I guess we’ll find out in a few days,” you sigh. “I hope it’s not a stomach bug because I don’t want you to get sick too,”.

“I’ll be fine,” he smiles. 

“I don’t knowww,” you tease. “I think I’ll have to pause the kisses for a few days so I don’t give whatever I have to you,”. 

Joe whips his head around and glares at you, “No fucking way,”. 

Joe would die if you stopped kissing him. He could not go about his day without a good morning kiss from you and he could not sleep without a good night kiss from you, they were his favorite things. You remember your first kiss with him and how insatiable he was once he felt his lips against yours, needing to feel them against his all the time. 

“It’s cute how you’re still the same 20-year-old that can’t go a day without a kiss from me,” you say as you softly push his shoulder. 

“Maybe don’t have the softest lips in the world and then I’ll stay away,” he jokes as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder. 

“Sorry, no can do,” you giggle.

“Then I guess I can’t say away,” he grins as he leans down and presses a big kiss on your lips.

“You’re probably going to throw up tomorrow,” you smile against him. 

“I’ll pay that price if it means I get to kiss my girl,” he says before pressing another kiss to your lips. 

After the Family Dinner 

The Family Dinner went smoothly since your nausea died down and you could finally eat something without feeling like you were going to throw up again. You still felt a little tired but managed to push through as entertaining conversations with family members kept you awake. Now, you were sitting on the bed after your shower and were waiting for Joe to come upstairs after cleaning up. You offered to help him since there was a lot to clean up but he insisted that you went upstairs and relaxed a little after the weird day you had, so that’s exactly what you did.

You were scrolling on your phone when you heard the bedroom door close. You look up and see your adorable husband trying to catch his breath, “Told you I could’ve helped you,” you shrugged.

“Cleaning up after a dinner party is not for the weak,” he sighs. “I didn’t realize we were so messy and there were so many things all over the place. And then I had to get the trashcans outside before the downpour started so I literally had to run around to grab the bags and take them down to the trashcans,”.

“Aww, is my poor baby tired?” you tease.

“This is not funny,” he said as he gave you a look while taking his shirt off. “I could’ve slipped and fallen in the rain,”. 

You went silent as you watched him pat his body with his shirt before tossing it into the laundry hamper, his muscular chest glowing in the warm lighting of your bedroom. Joe was built like a Greek God, the way his chest looked like it had been crafted from gold, and the way his golden hair and blue eyes always caught you in a trance. 

“If he just bent me over right now–,” you thought to yourself, finding yourself in one of those trances again before you felt a sudden sensation of weight on you that pushed you back onto the bed, snapping the impure thoughts out if your head.

“Mmph, I missed you today,” Joe said, his entire body on yours right now.

“I literally saw you the entire day,” you giggled as you moved your hands into his hair.

“I know, but I feel like we barely saw each other at the same time. My mom had you occupied for the majority of the dinner and we didn’t get any alone time,” he sighed. 

“Alone time?” you questioned. “Alone time for what?”.

“For this,” he says as he kisses your lips, slowly deepening the kiss as you feel his warm tongue enter your mouth. You let out a soft moan when you feel his hands slip under your shirt, his big hands rubbing your plush skin. You open up your legs a bit more to accommodate his big body as you suck on his lip and pull him closer, his hands now moving up to your bare chest. You wrap your legs around his waist and move your lips against his in a way that you know drove him crazy, slowly switching back and forth between his top and bottom lip. You feel his hand massage your breast which would normally make you feel pleasure, but this time all you felt was pain.

“Ow,” you wince as you pull away from the kiss, his hands immediately stopping. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his face and body frozen at your apparent ache. 

“Do that again,” you say to him, then feel his hand squeezing your breast again and still feel pain.

“Fuck, that hurts,” you whisper. 

He slips his hand out from under your shirt and moves off of your body, “What’s wrong?”,

“My boobs feel so sore,” you whine.

“Is it your period?” he asks as he runs his fingers through his hair. 

“I don’t think so,” you sigh. “I don’t know what’s up with me today,” you say as you slide your hands across your face. 

“It’s okay,” Joe says while grabbing your hands and kissing them. “I told you this morning that we all have those kinds of days and I think that’s all this is. You might have just caught something from someone and are a little sick,”. 

“I don’t know what kind of sickness involves these kinds of symptoms but I guess you’re right,” you say, not being able to come up with any other reason as to why you were having an off day. 

“Just take it easy tonight, I’ll grab you some Tylenol and Water,” he says as he slowly gets up from the bed.

“But what about–,”.

“Nope,” he says, shutting you down as he knew what you were going to say. “Sex is not what you need right now,”.

You drop your shoulders and give him a pouty face which usually works, but this time it didn’t. “Joeee,” you grumble. 

“Sorry beautiful, but I promise I’ll make it up to you when you feel better,” he smiles.

“How is it fair that you still get your kisses while I’m sick but I can’t get laid?” you say as you cross your arms and bat your eyelashes. 

“Because one involves less tiresome actions than the other,” he winks as he walks out of the bedroom to grab you some things from downstairs. 

You faceplant forward onto the comforter as you let out a loud groan, one that he could hear from the hall. “You’ll thank me later,” you hear him laugh. 

You detested being sick. Not because you didn’t get to partake in certain activities, but because you felt like shit. You had never heard of a sickness that involved being tired, your taste buds acting up, throwing up, and having sore boobs. This was a strange combination of symptoms and it really was taking a toll on you and it would probably get worse.

But were you actually sick, or was this something else?

The Next Morning 

You suddenly jolt awake from the feeling of your stomach churning and your body extremely hot all of a sudden. You unwrap yourself from Joe’s hold and run into the bathroom, feeling a burning sensation in your throat again and once again crouching down and emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You see Joe walk into the bathroom from the corner of your eye, crouching down next to you and holding your hair back while whispering sweet words to calm you down into your ear. 

A few moments later you flush the toilet and wipe your lips with a piece of toilet paper, then fall back into Joe’s arms. “Mmm,” you whine as you hide your face in his chest as he rubs your back.

“Still not feeling better?” he asks.

“Mm, Mm,” you reply as you shake your head, a few tears falling from your eyes. You feel Joe shift around under you, then feel his hands around your legs and waist, slowly picking you up bridal style and carrying you out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the couch, not a word coming from his mouth as he was doing this. 

He carefully placed you on the couch, taking a few push blankets and setting them around you to keep you warm. He then brought over a glass of water for you and some anti-nausea pills and mints.

“Take these for now. I’m gonna heat up some soup for you to eat for breakfast and order some soup for lunch for you while I’m at practice so you can stay in bed all day. I’m also gonna stop at the pharmacy to see what other meds I can pick up,” he says as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Thank You,” you cooed. 

“I love you so much,” he added after placing another kiss on your forehead. “You’re going to be fine, I promise,”. 

“I love you more,” you smile as you kiss his cheek. 

You watch as he walks over to the fridge, taking out the bowl of soup his Mom made for you last night to ease your stomach in case you felt nauseous again. You turn back around and pull the blankets up higher as you try to get comfortable. Although you hated Mama Bear Joe and the over-the-top antics, you loved when he would do these little things for you—as silly as it sounded. It was his responsibility as your husband to take care of you, but you still felt your heart explode when he would do so.

After eating the soup he made for you, Joe went upstairs to get ready for practice and then spent a few minutes with you on the couch to make sure you didn’t throw up again before he left.

He laid his head in your lap, your fingers playing with the soft strands of his hair as you felt his hot breath against your stomach. 

“I really don’t want to leave you alone today,” he mumbled against your stomach.

“I know,” you sigh. “I’ll be fine though, don’t stress,”.

“I just feel bad that you’re sick and I can’t be here to take care of you,” he sighs.

You stop running your fingers through his hair which causes him to look up and meet your eyes, “Don’t feel bad, Joe. What my stomach decides to do when you’re not here is in neither of our hands,” you joke.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” he says.

“I promise I’ll be fine. If I need anything I can call a friend or I’ll text you,” you smile.

“If you feel really bad, drive to the facility,” he says as he gets up from your lap. 

“Don’t you think that’s a little too-,”.

“Drive to the facility,” he says again, giving you a look that tells you he means business. 

“Okayyy, Mama Bear,” you joke as you kiss his cheek.

“Uhh, what about my lips?” he says as he raises his eyebrows. “I told you, I don’t care if I throw up,”. 

You roll your eyes before leaning in and pressing two sweet kisses on his lips, feeling Joe’s smile through them both, and then a final one on his nose. “Bye Joe,” you say lazily, your tiredness peeking through. 

He smiles at you and gets up from the couch, his gaze lingering on your face for a few seconds. He couldn’t leave you alone, he didn’t want to leave you alone. “Maybe I should stay,” he says as he sits down again. 

“Joe,” you glare, now feeling a little annoyed at his overthinking. 

“What?” he asks.

“Go to practice,” you say, purposefully lacing your voice with annoyance. 

“No,” he denies.

“Joe,” you say, this time giving him a look that told him you were incredibly close to snapping.

“What if you throw up again?” he asks.

“I’ll take some medicine and drink water,” you shrug.

“And what if you get a fever or something,”.

“That’s what we have Tylenol for,” you laugh.

“What if you pass out?”.

He really wasn’t budging, was he? “Joe!” you yell, softly because you don’t like raising your voices at each other. “I love you, but please go to practice,”. 

“Okay, Okay. I’ll go,” he says. “But if you need anything, and I mean anything, please call me,”.

“I will, I promise,” you smile, grabbing his hand and giving him a soft squeeze to hopefully ease his worries like how he did for you. 

A few hours later 

You stayed on the couch for about two hours so that you could fully digest the soup without doing anything to make you throw up again before slowly making your way upstairs to freshen up and take a nice long shower; the steamy warm water hitting your stomach provided much-needed relief.  

You’re brushing your wet hair in the mirror when you see your phone light up from an incoming Facetime from your best friend. You pick up and prop your phone against the mirror before going back to your hair. 

“Hey, Y/N,” she smiles.

“Hey, Soph,” you sigh, your voice heavy and tired. 

“That’s not promising. You still feeling sick?” she asks.

“Threw up again this morning,” you say as you pursed your lips. 

She stays silent for a few seconds, biting her lip and staring at you like you had two heads. “What?” you ask as you put the brush down.

“You know, the symptoms you told me you were having kind of sounds like something else,” she says.

“Sounds like what?” you snort, preparing yourself for another one of her wild theories. 

“But I don’t know for sure because you’ve never mentioned it before,” she thinks.

“What?” you ask.

“Are you pregnant?” she grins. 

You pause for a few seconds to let what she said register in your brain. “HA,” you yell a few seconds later. “That’s hilarious,” you say as you throw your head back. 

“Y/N, I’m not kidding,” she deadpans, her tone making you stop laughing. 

“Sophia, I can tell you for a fact that I'm not pregnant. I’m pretty sure it’s just a stomach bug,” you shake your head as you reach for your hair clip.

“Okay, but when was the last time you guys, you know,” she winked. 

“Well, let’s just say we make sure to get our workouts in,” you say with a cheeky smile as you clip your hair back. 

“Workouts?” she laughs. “Now I know what you mean to say whenever you tell me you can’t talk because you and Joe are about to ‘workout’,”.

A throaty laugh leaves your lips as you recall all the moments you’ve dodged your friend’s calls and texts with a “workout” excuse. Although, you did end up sweating and probably burning a few calories so it was pretty much like a workout. 

“Anyway, hypothetically if you are pregnant and are having symptoms, you’d have to be pregnant for at least 4-8 weeks by now,”.

“Rightttt,” you nod slowly. Why were you even entertaining her theory? You couldn’t be pregnant, there was no way. 

“What happened 4-8 weeks ago?” She asked.

“Uhhhh…,” you trail off, trying to remember anything significant. “My birthday was 5 ish weeks ago,” you say. 

“Okay, so did you-,”.

“Oh yeah, we did,” you answered with a laugh even before she could finish asking the question, recalling that memorable night that had you sore for the entirety of the next day. 

“Okay, have you been trying for a baby?” she asks.

You pause for a few seconds before recalling the conversation you and Joe had about this subject, “We haven’t been specifically trying but we talked about having a baby and everything a while ago and decided that it would happen when it was supposed to happen,”.

Flashback to September - A few days before the start of the season 

You and Joe were lounging together on the couch, his hand in your hair, playing with the loose strands as you rubbed your hand along his thigh. You both longed for these calm and quiet moments when it was just the two of you wrapped up in each other's arms. This kind of one-on-one time would be significantly reduced once the season starts, so you both were making sure to get as much in as you could now. 

“How do you feel about having a baby right now?” Joe asked, breaking the silence with something so deep and serious that completely went against the thought you just had of cherishing peaceful moments with just the two of you.

“Hm?” you asked as you turned your head to face him. “I thought we already had this conversation,”.  You’d talked about the idea of wanting kids ages ago before you got engaged when you were talking to each other about your futures and although you had been married for over a year now, this was the first time the topic of kids came up as a married couple.

“Well, we did have this conversation,” he smiled. “But that was before we got married and it was just about if we wanted kids together. Now we’re married,” he said as he moved his hand to your stomach. 

“Someone having baby fever?” you beamed as you pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Actually, I am,” he said, his face telling you he was being dead serious. “The thought of Baby Burrow running around the house sounds like a dream”. 

“Really?” you question, a little surprised at his thoughts. You knew that Joe wanted to have kids with you at some point, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon since he’s still at an important point in his career. 

“Really,” he says. “I love you more than anything on this earth and the thought of you having my baby makes me want to run around and scream. The thought of a little baby running around and screaming also makes me want to run around and scream,”.

You laugh at his childlike excitement then lean in to press a kiss on his pink lips, “I love that you’re so excited about having kids with me,”.

“Excited is an understatement, I’m Ecstatic. Having a baby has way more of an impact on you than it does me, so I wanted to see where you were at about it,” he adds. 

“Well, we said we ideally wanted 2—one boy and one girl—but no more than 3 if another happens to come along. I think that still stands?” you ask.

“Yes, it does,” he nods. 

“Wouldn’t things get too chaotic if I was pregnant during the season though?” you ask as you play with his fingers. 

“If you were pregnant during the season, Baby B would arrive during the off-season so that lines up perfectly since I would be able to be around a lot more,” he said. “It would be a bit chaotic for a little because I would be thinking about you 90% of the time, but it’s better than having a baby during the season and you being by yourself,”. 

“True,” you nod as you do the math in your head. If you got pregnant anywhere from now to December the baby would arrive between May and July, which would be perfect for you both. 

“It’s all up to you. I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing you for anything. If you’re not ready for that then that's okay,” he assured. 

“It’s not that I’m feeling rushed, I just don’t want to rush you into anything,” you say. “I know how important these next few years are for your career and I don’t want you to feel like you have too many things on your plate,”. You wanted to have a family more than anything, but you also knew that what Joe was doing was incredibly important to not just him, but you also. If it was just the two of you for a few years, you wouldn’t mind, even if part of you wished it was the three of you. 

“A family is a priority, not just something on a plate,” he smiles. “I told you that when I proposed too, remember?”. 

Oh, you remembered all right. When Joe proposed, you obviously said yes. You couldn’t imagine spending the rest of your life with any other person, but you were a little hesitant about the idea of getting married while he was still chasing his first ring because you didn’t want to become a distraction for him when it came to his career. You felt awful for thinking that way, but once again, Joe fixed that with the snap of his fingers. He told you and made sure you knew that you weren’t just some “thing” in his life, you were a priority. You mattered to him more than football did and it would always be that way as football was transient, and you would always be there with him. You were his whole world.

When you first met, he knew instantly that he wanted to do everything with you. He wanted to be the guy who took you out on dates, showed you a love unlike any kind you had ever experienced, cleaned up your tears whenever you were sad, kissed you at every chance he got, and eventually be the man who proposed to you and married you. Lucky for him, all that happened. Now he wanted to take the next step, having a family with you. 

“I remember,” you smile. “You made sure that I got that in my head,”.

“So just like you, a baby would become a priority. And I’d love to see my two favorite humans up in the suite watching their daddy play ball before he gets gray hairs,” he smiles.

“Their daddy? You mean the baby’s daddy?” you question.

He tilts his head and raises his brow, giving you a look that makes you throw your head back in a fit of laughter. 

“Oh, I mean their daddy. We both know you use that name a lot in a different context,” he winks.

“Joseph Lee,” you shriek as you gently hit his chest while a blush creeps up your face. You stop laughing and stare at him for a few seconds, thinking about what life would be like with a little baby chasing you both around the house while calling you mama and dada. You could have a little family of your own that you would come home to every day. Endless mornings filled with laughter and precious moments as a trio, sleepless nights curled up with Joe in your bed as you stayed awake in case your baby woke up; a lifetime of love was waiting for you.  

“Having a baby sounds amazing, Joe,” you smile as you tuck your head under his chin. “Being your girlfriend was fantastic, being your wife is like a dream, but being the mother to our child is the best thing that could ever happen to me,”.

“You’re going to be the best daddy to our little baby. I can’t wait for the day when Baby Burrow can see you out on the field, absolutely tearing it up and putting everyone on notice. I can’t wait for the day when they realize who their daddy is and see all the great things he’s done in his life,” you coo.  

“Y/N..” he softly says, his heart bursting from your sweet words but also from the thought of all of that actually happening.  

“The greatest thing I’ve done in my life is make you my forever,” his face turning a little red at the words leaving his mouth.

“Aww, Joe,” you say as your face turns into a pout, your heart now being the one bursting at his sweet words. “Everything you say makes me fall more in love with you,”.

“I feel the same way,” punctuating his sentence with another kiss. “We have all the time in the world to have a baby so there’s no rush obviously,” he smiles as he pulls you closer to him, resting his hand on your stomach. 

“Agreed. Whenever Baby Burrow wants to come, it will,” you grin against his cheek. “We don’t necessarily have to try but we also don’t need to do anything to prevent it now that we’re open to it,”.

You feel his hand slide up to your chest, his other hand moving under your shirt and sliding up to the clasp of your bra. “Think we should get a head start on it?” he whispers in your ear, his voice incredibly husky and intoxicating. 

“Sounds like a great idea,” you wink. “I’d hate for us to be slackers,” you say before you lean in and capture his lips in a kiss that ignited something inside of you both. 

End of flashback 

“Well, let’s look at the past few days. You feel tired, things don’t taste the same, you threw up twice and feel nauseous a lot, you’re bloated as hell, plus mood swings and cravings. Those are all typical pregnancy symptoms,” she nods. “How about your period?”.

You freeze when she says that, your face dropping and your body tensing up, “Fuck,” you panic. “I didn’t even check that,” you say as you grab the phone off the vanity and pull up your period tracking app. You sit down on the toilet lid and look at the calendar, your heart dropping when you see bright red letters that spell out “Late”. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling like your world just flipped upside down. 

“What?” she asks.

“Ummm, I’m going to have to call you back later,” you say as you return to the FaceTime screen. 

“Oh my GOD,” she screams. “Y/N holy shit-,”.

“Soph, I really gotta go,” you say as you get up and start looking through the baskets in the bathroom for any pregnancy tests. 

“Okay, Okay. I’ll check in with you later,”.

“Thank you, I’ll call you later,” you say as you quickly hang up and throw your phone onto a pile of towels. 

“Where are the tests when you actually need one,” you grumble. 

After 10 minutes of searching every bathroom in the house, you couldn’t find a single pregnancy test so you decided to instacart a few tests to the house. You thought about going out and buying a few since that would be faster but you figured that word would get around town fast if Joe Burrow’s wife was buying pregnancy tests and if you actually were pregnant, you definitely were going to keep it a secret for a little. 

You were now sitting on the floor of the master bathroom with a glass of water to calm you down, anxiously waiting for the tests to arrive. You were a little nervous even though you both knew you wanted this, but the thought of it actually happening was a little too real for you. You heard your phone ding across the bathroom so you immediately got up to check and see if it was a notification that the tests were here, but it was a text from Joe. 

Joe: how are you feeling?

Anxious. You were feeling Anxious.

You: a bit better :) the soup helped

A lie. That was a lie. The soup did help though, but you did not feel better. 

Joe: that’s good. i’m gonna swing by the store later and pick up some tums and pepto bismol tablets, you need anything else?

Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream would be great since that was what you were craving right now. But the weird thing was, you hated Mint Chocolate Chip. Was this a pregnancy craving?

You: mint choco chip ice cream would be nice

Joe: are you okay?

You: yeah.. why?

Joe: y/n, you HATE mint chocolate chip 

You: i know but I feel like eating some right now. maybe it’s the stomach bug that’s craving it

Joe: so now the stomach bug is hungry?

You: seems like it 

Joe: okay then, a tub of mint choco chip ice cream will be on its way in a few hours for mr. stomach bug

You: me and mr. stomach bug say thank you joeyyy 

Joe: of course :) anyway, i gotta go back to practice. i’ll see you in a bit, make sure to drink a lot of water and eat the soup I ordered for you

You sent him a picture of you drinking a glass of water and as you were about to close your phone, a notification popped up that said “Delivered” which made your stomach do a backflip, but not the kind that made you feel like you were going to throw up. Instead, the kind that made you feel like your world was about to flip upside down.  

“Shit,” you mumbled. You ran out of the bathroom and made your way downstairs to the front door to pick up the package, and then ran into the downstairs bathroom. 

You ordered a ClearBlue digital test and a traditional First Response Test for the most accurate read. You spent a few minutes doing your business before flipping the tests upside down and setting a 3-minute timer. You sat down on the ledge of the tub, your leg bouncing up and down as you started to think about what would happen after you flipped the tests over.

If it was Positive, in 9 months you’d have a little baby in your arms and a family. A little boy or girl that you’d get to watch grow up and raise with the love of your life. Little hands wrapping around your fingers every night as you rocked your baby to sleep and adorable little laughs that would fill your quiet house every morning would brighten your day faster than a cup of coffee. 

If it was Negative, there would be nothing. It’s not like you were trying hard to have a baby, but your heart would still hurt if all this anticipation and thinking was for nothing. You tried to not get your hopes up too much, but you couldn’t help but think about all the things that would happen if it was positive. 

God, you wished it was Positive. You wanted to see that smile on Joe’s face when you told him you were having a baby for real. You didn’t want to have to tell him that you thought you were Pregnant but then found out you weren’t, that would break your heart again. 

“DING”, the timer was up. 

You took a few deep breaths before getting up from the ledge of the tub, walking over to the counter, and staring at the upside-down tests.

“Here we go,” you sigh.

You closed your eyes and flipped over the ClearBlue test. You slowly opened your eyes, the words reading “POSITIVE”.  

Your heart skipped a beat at the words. Tears started to form in your eyes and your heartbeat increased, all at the same time. You quickly flipped over the Traditional Test, 2 bold pink lines visible on the slot. 

You were Pregnant. 

You dropped the test on the counter and broke out in a sob, tears streaming down your face and your hands shaking. You were actually Pregnant. You were going to be a Mom and Joe was going to be a Dad. It was actually happening. 

“Oh my god,” you smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes. You pulled out your phone and took a picture of the tests, sending them to Sophia since she was the only one who was in on it at the moment. You placed your phone back down on the counter as tears kept falling from your eyes at the thought of actually being pregnant, your brain was in overdrive right now. In 9 months, you and Joe would become a family of 3. Your heart gushed at the thought of having a little baby of your own in your arms. Being a mother means experiencing and showing a different kind of love, and you can't wait.

How were you going to tell him? How were you going to hide this from the public? Was it a boy or a girl? So many questions filled your head, but all you could truly focus on was the fact that this was really happening. 

“Holy shit,” you smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes again. You look at yourself in the mirror, lifting your shirt and inspecting your belly.

“And I thought this was bloat,” you laugh through the tears as you rub your hands around the little bump that was forming. 

“Hey little baby,” you say as you talk to your stomach. “I know you can’t hear me, but it’s your mama. Me and Daddy love you so much. He doesn’t know yet but you’re going to be the sweetest surprise,” you grin. 

A few more hours later 

You spent the rest of the day in bed, content and relaxed as you knew why you were feeling so off so you weren’t worried about it anymore. You spent a few hours scheduling your OBGYN appointment, researching some things that newly pregnant women should do and not do, and brainstorming ideas on how you were going to tell Joe. All the ideas you found seemed basic or overdone—none really sticking out to you—so you decided to wait a bit and see if anything popped into your head. 

Currently, you were eating the soup that Joe had ordered for you while rewatching an episode of Stranger Things. He ordered you a Tomato Soup with a crisp grilled cheese sandwich, one of your favorite comfort meals, and go-to stomach bug remedy. 

“Well now that I know that it’s not a stomach bug, I hope you enjoy this soup, Baby Burrow,” you whisper to your stomach as you hear the bedroom door swing open, prompting you to look up. You watched as a sweaty Joe walked into the bedroom, placing his practice bag on the floor before walking over to you. 

“I didn’t even hear you come home,” you smiled as you paused the TV and placed your bowl of soup on the nightstand.

“How are you?” he asked as he sat down in front of you.

“Amazing,” you smile, feeling so much better after finding out the best news possible. 

“Really? You seemed pretty low when I left,” he asks, incredibly confused at how your mood did a 360.

“I feel a lot better and way more energized than I did this morning. I took a nice long shower after you left and lounged in bed all day,” you say, trying so hard to not tell him the real reason as to why you were feeling better. “No nausea or anything,”.

“That’s great,” he smiled. “I’m glad whatever you have is passing quickly. You’re kinda glowing too,”.

“Mhm,” you lie. It in fact was not passing quickly and wasn’t planning on passing anytime soon. You look down and notice that he’s still in his compression shirt and workout shorts which is odd since after practice he would come home in a more home-like outfit, usually some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. “Did you not take a shower before you left?”.

“Nope, I wanted to get to the store and get home as soon as I could to be with you,”.

He was so thoughtful, never failing to show how much he cared for you. The next 9 months were going to be perfect as you had the most extraordinary person by your side every step of the way. You pull Joe forward by his shoulder, letting his body cover yours again like last night as you melt back into the pillows.

“I’m super sweaty and you’re still not 100% better yet, Y/N,” he laughed. “I think this can wait,”.

“I have pure intentions,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck. “And I can take another shower as long as I get my cuddles,”.

“You hate when I touch you when I’m sweaty,” he scoffed. 

“Well, I guess I like it now,” you giggle as you press a few kisses to his cheek. Your hands travel down to his back, rubbing his soft skin through the thin fabric of his compression shirt

“In the 6 years that we have been together, you’ve never once willingly hugged me when I was sweaty and gross,” he says as he digs his head further into the crook of your neck. . It was true, you hated touching him when he was all gross and grimy, but you didn’t care right now. You just wanted him close to you, and now your baby as well. 

“I just want you close, that’s all,” you smile.

“You okay?” he asks before he presses a delicate kiss to your neck.

“I’m great, maybe even a little over the moon,” you say as you bite your lip.

“Care to tell me why?” he says, pulling his head out of your neck and making eye contact with you. You could never lie to Joe; anytime you tried he could see you weren’t being truthful by just looking into your eyes. 

Tell-tale eyes are what he called them, your eyes always gave it away. Your eyes gave away how you felt about Joe when you first met, which was that you wanted him more than anything on this planet. Your eyes gave away how much you loved him when he made one of your dreams come true by taking you on a trip to Ohio back in December when you were in college and driving you hours away to the beach just to see the snow falling, something incredibly weird yet breathtakingly beautiful. And now, your eyes were about to give away the fact that you were pregnant. 

You break the intense eye contact and look up at the ceiling to avoid his eyes, the perfect lie popping up in your head, “I think Dylan is proposing to Sophia soon,”. This wasn’t really a lie but it was the perfect thing to hide the real reason why you were acting like this.

“Really? That’s great,” Joe smiled. “He’s a really cool guy,”. 

“I know right? I remember in middle school when we would go on and on about our dream guys, our prince charmings, and I’m so glad she found hers,” you say as you move your hand back up to his hair.

“Did you find yours?” he asked, a solemn look on his face.  

You gaze into his eyes for a few moments before leaning in and capturing his lips in a sweet kiss, “I found him and he’s even better than what I imagined,”. 

“I love you,” he says against your lips.

“I love you even more,” you say as you pull his head back down to your neck, his arm moving around your waist. You feel him rest his hand on your stomach, completely oblivious to the fact that he is touching his child right now; the thought of that makes you smile even harder.  You stayed like that for about half an hour before Joe insisted that he took a shower, even inviting you to join him but adding that there would be no funny business, but you said you would take a shower before bed so you could be fully relaxed. 

You made your way downstairs, inspecting all the things he got you from the store. A variety of medicines–many of which will help combat the morning sickness you will be dealing with for the next few months–the icecream you requested, a box of dark chocolates (your guilty pleasure), a bouquet of baby pink and white tulips, and an adorable pink dinosaur holding a heart plushie. You smile at the treats he got for you before you feel a hand on either side of your hips and then a set of lips pressing kisses along your shoulder. 

“Got you some things to hopefully make you feel better,” he mumbled against your skin.

“I didn’t even hear you come downstairs,” your eyes widened at the sudden touch, Joe laughing at your reaction. 

“Put a bell on me at this point,” he jokes.

“Might have to,” you say as you turn around to face him, his hands still holding you in place. “Thanks for the goodies,” you smile. 

“Of course,” he said as he leaned in for a kiss. “Although, I still don’t know why you wanted Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream. You always say it tastes like toothpaste whenever you take a bite of mine,”.

“Maybe it’s just my taste buds changing again? Everything I used to like a lot tastes gross, and everything I used to hate a lot tastes good,”. Part of that is possibly true, your taste buds could have changed a bit because you’re pregnant, but the ice cream was definitely the beginning of the strange cravings you were going to have. 

“If that’s the case, maybe you’ll like crawfish now,” he smiled.

“Absolutely not,” you say, your face scrunching up in disgust. “I didn’t like it in Louisiana, and I sure as hell will not like it now,”.

“It was worth a try,” he said as he dropped his head. 

You press a kiss to his face, feeling his scruff against your lips, before moving out of his hold and walking over to the cabinet to pull out a bowl for the ice cream. “Will ice cream make you feel better?” you laugh.

He looks up, contemplating for a few seconds before saying, “Ice cream and Mario Kart would make me feel better,”. 

“Your wish is my command. Go sit down, I’ll bring you some ice cream,” you say as you pull out two bowls. 

“Nope,” he says as you hear him walk over to you. “You go sit down. I will get us some ice cream,”. 

“I got it,” you smile. You watch as he places his hands on his hips and tilts his head, this is his standing-on business pose and told you to not argue with him. 

“Alright, Alright. I’ll go sit down,” you say as you throw your hands up.

“Good,” he says as he turns you around and lightly pushes you forward. 

You sit down on the couch and turn on the switch to load up Mario Kart, one of your favorite games next to Smash Bros. You and Joe would always find yourself playing Mario Kart, and it all started on your 3rd date back in college. You get to the profile selection screen, seeing Joe’s ‘Mario’ profile and your ‘Princess Peach’ one which makes you remember when it all started. 

Flashback to LSU

You were sitting next to Joe on the floor of his apartment, both your knees touching as you were heavily concentrated on the game in front of you. You were playing in the ‘Special Cup’ and were on your 4th map—Rainbow Road—and you two were neck and neck with each other. 

“You’re going to lose slowpoke,” you smirk as you get in front of Joe, your competitive nature coming out.

“I never lose,” he smiles as he uses his boost to get in front of you, dropping a banana peel while he is at it causing you to spin out of control.  

“Noo,” you whine as you repeatedly press the buttons on your controller to regain your form. 

This was your 3rd date with Joe. Earlier he had taken you to the aquarium because you both were incredibly fascinated by marine life, and then lunch at your favorite taco place downtown. After, he invited you back to his place to watch a movie which then turned into playing Mario Kart once you saw his gaming stuff. 

You met Joe through a mutual friend at a college party a few weeks ago, his intoxicating eyes catching yours from across the room but you were too nervous to make a move given who he was. Little did you know your best friend’s new boyfriend was good friends with Joe, so then you ended up meeting him for real. The first time you were face to face, you felt yourself getting lost in his eyes as they were bluer than the ocean. He made the first move, striking up an unusual yet entertaining conversation about whether pineapple belonged on pizza as you both were eating pizza.

You and Joe hit it off instantly as you had a lot of things in common and talking to each other felt so incredibly easy, you both wanted to sit there and talk to each other for hours and hours and would have if you were sitting someplace else. He was also the most gorgeous man you had ever laid your eyes on which made you want to get to know him in another type of way as well, but you kept that to yourself. Lucky for you, he asked you out on a date right after the party was over and naturally you said yes. 

The 1st date went amazingly, then 2nd date was even better, and now you were playing video games with him in his apartment after your 3rd date. Joe was such a sweet guy, always paying attention to you and making it incredibly obvious that he really liked you. He thought you were the coolest girl he’d ever met and loved spending time with you because it always left him feeling more lively than he was before. You made him so happy.

You lean forward, your fingers rapidly dancing around the controller as you try to get ahead of Joe as you approach the final stretch of the map. 

“How did you get so close so fast?” he said in disbelief. 

“Told you, you’re a slowpoke,” you giggle as you pass him, the finish line in sight. 

Joe scoffs and leans in, his fingers beginning to move around the controller rapidly as he tries to overtake you, but you are too good for him.

“Aaaannnnd, I win!” you yell as you make it to the finish line before him, Joe arriving shortly after. You laugh as you throw your hands in the air, watching as the screen shows your character Princess Peach with confetti and balloons around her and a congratulations message on the screen.

“Damn,” Joe whispers as he looks over at you looking absolutely precious as you celebrate your victory. His eyes trailed down to what you were wearing: one of his LSU football hoodies. He gave it to you after your last date because he took you to a drive-in movie and it was a really windy night and you felt cold; the fact that you wore it again made his heart swell.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that, Mario,” you smile as you move your legs underneath you and turn to look at him, Joe’s character being Mario and yours being Peach. 

“Peach always ends up with Mario. I’ll get you sooner rather than later,” he winks, sending shivers down your spine. Was he talking about getting you in the game, or getting you in real life?

“Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?” you say as you raise an eyebrow, giving him a quizzical look. 

“Because,” he says as he leans in a little closer to you, your cheeks feeling hot all of a sudden. “Mario really likes Peach and it’s only a matter of time before Peach confesses that she does too,”.

You felt your heart skip a beat when he was speaking. He was talking about the two of you. 

“How do you know Peach likes Mario? I don’t think she’s ever said it,” you say, playing along with what Joe was saying. 

“Yeah, she’s never said it,” he shrugged. “But Mario can see the way Peach looks at him and acts around him. Peach’s eyes give it away, her tell-tale eyes,”. 

You lean in closer just like he did, “What is it about her eyes that give it away?”.

“It’s the way her eyes are always twinkling when she’s with Mario. Every time he makes her laugh or smile he notices that her eyes start sparkling and twinkling and he notices that they don’t do that when her friends or someone else makes her laugh,” he says, moving a little closer to you and placing his hand on top of yours. 

He was right. The way you acted around Joe was different than how you acted around others. With him, it was different. Good different. 

“Well, Mario must be doing something to make Peach act like that. Eyes only twinkle and sparkle when someone is feeling strong emotions,” you smile as you gaze into Joe’s starry eyes. 

“Exactly,” he nods. “She must be feeling strong emotions towards Mario,”.

“I guess she is,” you say short of a whisper, your heart rate increasing as butterflies swarm your belly. You liked Joe. You liked Joe a lot. 

Joe felt his heart explode when you said that. “I like you,” he blurted after leaning in even closer, his face just inches from yours. 

“I like you too,” you smile as you look down at his lips and then back to his eyes again. 

You feel him lift his hand off of yours and cup your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “I like you a lot,” he said again. 

“I like you a lot too,” you blush. 

You see Joe leaning in more, your palms getting sweaty as you know what is about to happen, but you don’t let your nerves stop you. You leaned in as well and a few seconds later your lips were now touching. Joe felt himself melt into the kiss as your lips felt like clouds against his, so soft and warm. His lips felt icy against yours, icy but soft at the same time. The warmth of your lips was radiating onto his and he felt amazing. 

You lifted your hand and stuffed it into his hair as he reached for your waist and pulled you closer to the point where you were practically in his lap; the kiss now getting deeper with no sign of stopping in sight. 

A few minutes later, you both pull away for some air, a big smile on both of your faces. “Your lips are so soft,” he said.

“I’m glad you liked them,” you blushed. 

“I told you I’d get you sooner rather than later,” he said as he peppered kisses along your jaw.

“I’m really glad you did,” you said as you pulled his head back up and leaned in to kiss him again, Joe falling back against the carpet and bringing you down with him as you both smiled into the kiss. 

End of flashback 

You smile at the memory and then suddenly a lightbulb goes off in your head. This was the perfect way to tell Joe you were pregnant. You could make Baby Burrow his or her own profile on Mario Kart and the next time Joe opened the game, he would see it. You still had that sweatshirt he gave you that you were wearing the day you told each other how you felt about each other and could wrap the Pregnancy Tests in the hoodie. It was the perfect callback to what really started it all for you both. 

“Here you go,” Joe said, breaking you out of your trance as he handed you a bowl and sat down next to you. 

“Thank you,” you smile as you press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You ready for me to beat you again?” you giggle.

“Please,” he scoffs. “I told you, Mario always gets Peach and not just in real life. You ain’t beating me for shit,” he laughed. 

“Oh, it’s on,” you say as you take a bite of the minty ice cream, which actually tastes really good. 

The next afternoon 

Today went by pretty quickly, Joe left early in the morning for practice and you had a fairly normal morning until you threw up halfway through your light workout session. Morning Sickness was going to get old fast. You took a nice bath after to calm down your nausea and to unwind which definitely helped. When you looked in the mirror after your bath, you saw that your belly was peeking out a little more which would definitely be noticeable if you were wearing a skin-tight shirt so you opted for one of Joe’s hoodies since they were super baggy on you. You read online that most women won’t show until their 8th or 10th week, but first pregnancies are different and you can show pretty early on which you thought was your case. 

Joe ordered you soup again for lunch which was just as delicious as yesterday’s, and now you were sitting on the couch trying to work on your surprise for Joe when he got home which was in about 20 minutes or so. 

You had found the sweatshirt he gave you–his Louisianimals one–and placed the two pregnancy tests in the middle of the sweatshirt and folded it inward so that he would see it when he opened it. You then placed it inside of a gift bag and hid it on the side of the couch. 

You opened up Mario Kart and made it to the profile screen, contemplating on how you should go about this. There was no general ‘baby’ character, but there was a ‘Baby Mario’ and ‘Baby Peach’ and since you didn’t know if you were having a boy or girl, this was perfect. You made one profile ‘Baby Mario’ and named it “Baby”. Then, you made a second profile ‘Baby Peach’ and named it “Burrow”. Side by side they both read out “Baby Burrow” with the two baby characters. 

“Hopefully this doesn’t make him think it’s twins,” you chuckle as you stare at the screen. 

You hear the garage open, thanking god that this time you heard Joe come home otherwise the surprise would have been ruined. You quickly close up the game, switch the TV back to its normal screen, and then take a few breaths to ease up before he comes inside. 

You watch him stroll inside, humming whatever song he was listening to in the car. He places his practice bag on the kitchen island before walking over to you on the couch. This time he was in sweats and a hoodie, meaning he took a shower before he left. 

“Hey Y/N,” he said as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Hey, Babe. How was practice?” you smiled as you tried to contain your anticipation and excitement at what was about to happen.   

“Really good,” he nodded before walking back over to the kitchen to grab water and some juice for you. “How are you feeling? I didn’t get any break time to check in on you,”.

“I’m good,” you said to him. “I felt a bit sick after my light workout but that’s about it,” you say, downplaying it because you didn’t want him to get worried again especially since the real reason for it is much sweeter than a stomach bug. 

“You need any meds or anything?” he asks from the kitchen as he pours you a glass of pomegranate juice.

“No, I think I’m good for now,” you say as you play with the rings on your finger, you wanted him to hurry up so that you could tell him the big news as you were struggling to contain yourself. 

He walks over with his water and your juice, handing you the glass before sitting down next to you and draping part of your blanket over him. “Thank you,” you say as you take a sip of the juice. 

“Of course. My mom said pomegranate juice is the way to go with stomach bugs,” he said as he took a gulp of his water. 

It’s also the perfect juice for pregnant women since it’s incredibly nuteritous and provides a lot of vitamins and antioxidants for you and the baby, but Joe didn’t know that.

“Something about Vitamins and Antioxidants,” he adds. 

“Ohh, I know,” you smile, acting incredibly suspicious. 

He looks at you, slightly confused at what you meant, but not bothering to dig at it. “So, what do you want to do this afternoon? I’m free the rest of the day so we can do whatever, nap, watch a movie…”.

“Mario Kart?” you ask, trying really hard to not give it away with your eyes and smile.

“Again? Even after you got your ass kicked last night?” he laughed.

“Listen, it was 1 bad cup! I’ve won many more than you can even count,” you whine. 

“Okayyy,” he said as he placed his water down on the coffee table and grabbed the controllers. “If you say so but I better not get any sore loser talk if you lose again,” he joked.

“Deal,” you grin as you feel butterflies in your stomach while watching him turn on the Switch and load up the game.

“Here we go,” you think to yourself as you move the blanket off so you can easily grab the bag from the side of the couch where you hid it when you needed to. 

The Switch turns on and Joe clicks the Mario Kart icon, passing you a controller before moving back into the couch and getting comfortable. The screen switches to the welcome screen and he clicks the play button, the screen now on the profile’s menu. 

You feel the world stop, your heart stop, and your breath stop as you turn your face to Joe’s, carefully examining his expression.

You see him pause at the screen, his brows furrowing at the two new profiles on the menu and reading them over while looking at the icons above them. 

“Baby…Burrow?” he muttered under his breath.

You notice the exact moment when he realizes what that means, his mouth slightly falling open as he turns his head over at you. You give him a smile before reaching for the bag you hid, pulling it up, and placing it in his lap.

“What–,” he begins to say before you interrupt him.

“Open this first,” you say as you nod to the bag you placed in front of him. 

Joe quickly reaches into the bag and pulls out the hoodie, looking incredibly confused at why you were giving it to him. “Why are you giving me a sweatshirt?”.

“Open it,” you say as you place your hand on his knee. Tears started to form in your eyes as you watched him open up the sweatshirt, the 2 positive tests resting right in the middle of the logo on the hoodie. He picks them up and brings them close to his face, his eyes softening at what he was looking at and a smile forming on his face. 

“Y/N, are you serious?” he asked as he looked over at you; his eyes were so incredibly delicate and glossy, and his lips curled into a beautiful smile. “You’re pregnant?”. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, the tears now falling from your cheeks and down onto the couch. “Surprise,” you said in between tears.

“Oh my god,” he said as he looked back down at the tests before placing everything to the side and pulling you into him. “Holy shit,” he said as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his tears falling down and onto your shirt. 

“I can’t believe it,” he said as he hugged you tightly. “We’re having a baby,” he laughed in between the tears. Joe felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest because of the news. He was going to be a dad, for real. And the most incredible woman he had ever met was about to be a mother. 

“Are you happy?” you asked him, your tears falling even harder now.

He lifted his head and met your eyes, “I’m fucking amazing,” he said before pressing a kiss to your lips. “We’re going to be parents. You’re having our baby,” he said as he pressed a few more kisses to your lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,”. 

“I love you,” you sniffle as you meet his eyes again, his eyes filled with a love that you’ve never seen before. Love for both of you, you and the baby. 

“I love you so so much,” he said as he pressed more kisses around your face before releasing you from his arms. 

He looked down at your belly and then looked up at your eyes again, you knew exactly what he was waiting for. You lifted your sweatshirt up, his eyes landing on your small bump. 

“Oh my god,” he whispered as he reached out to touch your bump, but froze before his hand could lay on it. You saw his hesitation and took his hand and placed it on your bump, resting your hand on top of his.

“That’s our baby?” he said as he looked back up at you, your eyes twinkling and sparkling. 

“That’s our baby,” you nod as you wipe your tears with your other hand. 

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your belly, your heart swelling at the adorable interaction. 

“Hey little Tiger,” he said to your belly. “I know you can’t hear me yet, but it’s Daddy,” he said as he looked up at you again, a huge smile on your face. “I love you so much, Baby Burrow. Me and Mommy can’t wait to see you,” he said before pressing another kiss to your stomach and moving back up to you.

“This doesn’t feel real,” he said as he wiped his face before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it.

“Tell me about it,” you laughed.

“When did you find out?” he asked as he looked at the tests again. 

“Yesterday,” you said as you wiped your eyes again. 

“So then the throwing up, tiredness, sore boobs, taste changes, and cravings are all..”.

“Pregnancy Symptoms,” you say as you nod your head. 

“Damn,” he whispered. “I guess my Mama Bear antics were not helping since it isn’t a stomach bug,”.

“I guess not. But I love Mama Bear Joe and her antics and wouldn’t trade her for the world,” you grin.

“I’ll remember that because it’s about to get a whole lot worse for the next 9 months,” he laughed. 

“I’m...No. We're prepared,” you say as you lean in for another kiss, this one a little longer than the others as you two enjoy each other's warmth. 

“That was pretty clever by the way,” he said as he pulled away and pointed to the menu. 

“You like it?” you ask as you bite your lip. 

“Oh hell yeah. It’s a great callback to how it all started. Mario and Peach, but now with a Baby Mario or Baby Peach on the way,” he said as he recalled that afternoon in his apartment. “The sweatshirt I gave you too. You really thought it all out,”. 

“I’m really glad you liked it,” you say as you feel more tears forming in your eyes. “And I’m so glad you’re happy,”.

He stared into your eyes for a few moments before carefully moving you closer to him so that you were in his lap. “I’m beyond happy, Y/N. I can’t wait to do this with you. I love you and our baby more than anything in the world,”. 

“We love you too,” you smile as you drop your head to his shoulder, feeling his hand rub your back.

“In 9 months we’re going to have our own child running around,” he said, the thought still feels surreal. 

“Well, I’d give it more time before little Tiger starts running around,” you laugh. 

“Little Tiger has my genetics so we shall see about that one,” he smiled.

“I’m going to make sure that you don’t order any foam baby footballs,” you say as you pull your head out of his shoulder. 

“Hey, I gotta teach them young so that by the time they’re 7 or 8 they have that future QB arm and love for football,” he said, slightly offended at your hesitation. 

“We shall see about that one,” you say as you echo his words back to him. “No doubt about the love for football, but we’ll see about the future QB arm. Besides, what if we have a girl?”.

“Well, if we have a girl they have girl's flag football and I wouldn’t mind being an advocate for a girl's football team at whatever school Baby Burrow goes to,”. “Oh my god, we sound like parents,” he said as he rolled his eyes.

���I mean, we’re almost there,” you giggled as you moved his hair out of his eyes. 

“Yeah, but we have 9 months. No need to get all parenty yet,” he said as he kissed a trail along your jawline and gripped your waist. “We’re still basically horny newlyweds since it’s only been a year and a half,”.

“Joe!” you shrieked, appalled at the words that came out of his mouth. 

“Hey,” he said in defense of himself. “It’s true though. And I’m pretty sure you can have Sex while pregnant so we should be fine,”. 

You drop your head back down to his shoulder before you both break out into a fit of laughter. “This is going to be an interesting 9 months,” you said. 

“You can count on it,” he said as he rubbed the back of your head. “We’re going to have a lot of interesting firsts too,”.

“Mhm,” you nod. “First OBGYN appointment, first ultrasound, first heartbeat, first kick, first time baby clothes shopping, first time decorating a nursery, first time telling friends and family,”. 

“God, I can’t wait,” he smiled.

“Me either. This is a dream,” you said as you pressed yourself closer to him. 

“You are a dream, all of this is possible because of you,” he said. You could hear his heartbeat through his chest which made you want to cry again, he was truly happy. 

“It’s only possible because I have someone like you with me,” you said as you kissed his shoulder. Joe was the best boyfriend, best fiancee, best husband, and now was going to be the best father. He was incredible. 

“We’re going to be amazing parents, I know it,” he said as he thought about the next 9 months and then the many years after you would go through together as parents.

“Mmm, I can’t wait,” you squeal.

“I love you, Y/N, this was the sweetest surprise,” he said before he pressed a kiss to your forehead, both of you melting into each other’s embrace as you started to think about what the future was going to look like as a family of 3.

–The End–

[chocosvt]

HER | part six (m).

✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader word count: 22.6k genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.

(!) warnings: drug use (weed, cocaine, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.

✧✎ a/n: just some quick things i want to make apparent!

the fic is told from wonwoo’s pov, not the reader’s! 

all major timeline events are organized through chronological dates

any smut or potentially triggering scenes are NOT MARKED bc the content is already quite mature, so just plz be aware of that! 

bolded and italicized text implies the characters are conversing in korean, tho it doesn’t happen often!

the fic in its entirety is 140k, so it has been split into 6 parts.

here it is... the FINAL part 😭 it seemed that a number of you were quite worried as to how i'd wrap this up, and i can finally give you the answer! :3 this has been an epic journey. thank yew for ur time 💕

more rambling continues at the very end. as per usual. again, a little bit more of an early upload! as a treat <3

⇢ part one | part two | part three | part four | part five ⇢ soundtrack for those curious! ⇢ read at ur own pace! :)

—SEPTEMBER 30TH.

The morning after was strange.

Early sunlight permeated through the living room’s white cloth curtains, dappling in water-like speckles against the glasses still held on his nose. For a moment, Wonwoo was frozen, as his mind made the shift from deep sleep to consciousness, though when he finally did awaken to find his blanket half-pushed off the recliner and the remnants of Chinese takeout left scattered across the coffee table, his lethargy started fading.

Vernon was gone.

Judging from the text on Wonwoo’s phone, the boy had quietly made his way out at around seven in the morning. It surprised Wonwoo to no end that Vernon could manage to sleep so little yet remain fully functional all the time. He seemed magic—or maybe it was something else that Wonwoo would be concerned to know about.

He spent some time cleaning off the coffee table.

Down the hall, his bedroom door remained closed.

When you finally did emerge, it was with the olive-green dress draped over your arm and the ivory heels in hand, which you proceeded to arrange on the small dining table by the kitchen.

Notably, however, there was something off about you, something that Wonwoo interpreted as nerves with an underlying awkwardness you didn’t typically, if at all, demonstrate. When he asked if you wanted breakfast and tea, your response was a tiny head shake and a poorly fit smile. Though, Wonwoo wasn’t going to paw at you.

He found that mornings always tended to be quite sobering, even if he hadn’t exactly drunk enough to make the room spin or swallowed some colourfully disguised pill on his tongue. Just the air was enough to rewire his head—that cooler, crisp air that he either loved or hated.

Undoubtedly, you had much to think about.

Wonwoo helped you get a hold of Princess using his phone, and the two of you watched television in silence while waiting for her to pick you up. He escorted you down through the pottery shop when it was time, and you sported very little shame, walking out onto the bright city sidewalk in just his t-shirt, clothes and shoes wrapped in your arms. Princess had this awfully perplexed look slapped onto her face while leaning over to nudge the car door open for you, and in that  moment, Wonwoo was scared of how it all appeared and what might transpire now that the giddiness and frivolity from the night before had ebbed away. He didn’t regret anything, though. Not at all.

But, in truth, what the fuck even were you two?

And what was supposed to happen now?

—OCTOBER 3RD.  

Since you had left his apartment in a daze that Saturday morning, Wonwoo hadn’t seen or heard from you. It was concerning him as time passed, he couldn’t deny it, but he also trusted you and wanted not to make you feel pressured into explaining yourself.

He was caught in a brisk walk along campus after leaving his early lecture, a warm coffee cup pressed against his lip that he had grabbed from the ground floor of SRX—they had been giving hot drinks away for free, and, consequently, it tasted like it. Nonetheless, the air was chillier by the day as autumn pushed its way in and decorated the walkway with dry leaves that rustled and crunched under his shoes. It was nice to have something hot in his hand.

He took a second to glance down at his phone.

Still, no messages from you, Wonwoo realized with a suckling sip of the very watery coffee, nearly tempted to text you himself—not anything pushy—just a simple reassurance that he was there for you if things weren’t going well.

Suddenly, however, Wonwoo had smacked into someone.

“Fuck—sorry,” he muttered, readjusting the computer bag slung over his shoulder and pushing up his circled glasses.

To Wonwoo’s complete and utter misery, he was unfortunately acquainted with the person he’d bumped shoulders, and now he was wishing that he had just kept walking like an impatient asshole.

Seokmin was standing before him, dressed in a similar-style woolen trench coat that his hands were stuffed into, the sun turning certain threads of his chocolate brown hair all shimmery. He hadn’t gotten back to Seokmin’s numerous texts ever since Wonwoo sent a brief, very purposefully vague message to the boy that night he ran out with you at the dinner party.

Now he was wondering if the shoulder bump was intentional.

“Wonwoo… uh, hey,” Seokmin stumbled.

Sniffling, Wonwoo let a second or two pass before answering.

He was still debating whether or not to walk away.

“What’s up?”

“You just get out of class, or?”

Wonwoo nodded. “Yeah—advanced stats.”

Seokmin flitted a barely-there smile, staring at his coffee cup.

“Is that the free stuff from SRX?”

“Indeed.”

“How does it taste?”

“Uh, watery… like shit, basically.”

Wonwoo knew—he fucking knew—that there was something buzzing on the tip of Seokmin’s tongue that he just couldn’t spit out. His absentminded expression and clear not-giving-a-damness about whether Wonwoo’s free coffee was actually good completely betrayed him. Not wanting to dawdle and get stuck in the mud of conversation, Wonwoo swallowed the lump in his throat, flashed his friend a tight-lipped smile, and pitched a goodbye, blandly wording it as, “I won’t keep you. Later.”

But Seokmin didn’t seem prepared to let that happen.

And Wonwoo’s eyes nearly rolled backward into his skull when the boy turned around and attempted to catch his attention again.

For some stupid, incomprehensible reason, Wonwoo stopped.

Maybe he knew the conversation needed to happen.

It only made him loathe the situation more.

“Yeah?”

Seokmin dragged a hand through his hair, brushing it up and down against the back of his head while he squinted at Wonwoo.

“I think… uh… if you’re not busy… I think there’s maybe some stuff we need to talk about. I don’t mean to like, catch you at a bad time or anything… do you wanna go sit at the picnic table over there?”

At Seokmin’s carefully suggested inquiry, Wonwoo followed the boy’s pointing finger toward the empty table placed on the large grass circle that the walkway wove around. With his grip hardening into the coffee cup, Wonwoo stopped to think despite knowing his answer.

“Okay… yeah.”

Wonwoo realized it had never felt this weird and stilted to sit down with Seokmin despite him being quite a reliable friend over the months, though Wonwoo was developing the sneaking feeling that his study buddy was about to deal an irreparable blow to their relationship. Seokmin’s folded hands were sitting atop the flecked, aged wood of the table, thumbs nervously twiddling, meanwhile Wonwoo remained silent to sip from his coffee that only became more and more tasteless.

Eventually, his friend seemed to find the words he needed.

“So, I don’t know if you’ve heard… but… Her and Mingyu are taking a break. They’re officially pressing the big pause button. I wasn’t there to witness the conversation, although I get the gist it was a pretty… uh, unpleasant talk,” Seokmin winced, bracing his teeth, “and… well, naturally, I learned that you were a big part of that talk, seeing how it looked and all—you and Her running out at the dinner party…”

He left what seemed like a purposeful pause, and Wonwoo assumed that he was supposed to feel pressured and jump to make a correction or provide an explanation, but he kept silent and rather expressionless. Ironically, Seokmin was the one to continue his spiel.

“Well, basically, there were some accusations thrown around as you can imagine. And I’m not sitting here to point a finger and question you to death about everything, but I just thought I’d give you the table—uh, literally—to explain what’s been happening.”

Wonwoo finally set aside his drink, then shifting off the strap to his computer bag, letting it fall down his shoulder. He didn’t make a huge, overwhelmed sigh even though his body was screaming for it, nor did he ponder abandoning the conversation despite the magnitude of everything Seokmin laid out for him.

Fuck—he hated being matured.

“I can’t speak on her feelings. But I like her.”

“Oh—you do?” Seokmin was astonishingly surprised.

Wonwoo shrugged. “Yeah.”

“So, then, does that mean—”

“Actually, sorry, I’m downplaying it like a coward,” Wonwoo interrupted, shaking his head, “I don’t just like her. I’m in love with her.”

It was then that Seokmin simply didn’t speak at all. His mouth had formed a hollowed shape, resembling something like a gulping fish, and Wonwoo capitalized on the silence to keep his thoughts fluent.

“I understand, okay? I understand why Mingyu is pissed. It takes two to tango, I get all that. And I know you probably want me to state my regret and all that so I don’t seem like such an asshole, but, honestly, I don’t really regret anything. Mingyu doesn’t care about her.”

Seokmin chuffed, rubbing at his chin. “Okay… I don’t know if I would go as far as to say that in particular. But you are admitting to it? I don’t know what it is you’ve done but you’ve done things with Her.”

“We’ve never had sex if that’s what you’re asking.”

“And—”

“We’ve never kissed, either… the only thing I was supposed to do was help her write that little love story. Which you set up, by the way. I didn’t know it would turn into this. I tried to get out of it.”

“I never thought she would stick it out.”

“I know.” Wonwoo sucked in his bottom lip, staring across the weathered wood at Seokmin. “You probably wanted her to drop it the second she mentioned it. I bet Mingyu thought the same.”

Seokmin scrunched up his face in disagreement. “That’s not necessarily true. She just fixates on stuff and then burns out after. She's always been like that, ever since I've known her. I figured the book would be no different. I thought it was something she needed to get out of her system, I didn’t think it would start rolling and—” he leaned forward into his palms for a moment, swallowing audibly. “Sorry, I just—I don’t get it, that’s all. I don’t get her fixations.”

“I think you’re just uncomfortable with her self-expression.”

“She—it’s not self-expression, though. Look, I know a pinch of what her story is about. It’s not about herself. It’s about Mingyu.”

“You think that just because she’s writing about someone else, there’s no pieces of herself in it? Her own feelings? Her own perspective? C’mon, Seokmin. You’re fucking smarter than that. You know what it's actually about.”

His friend’s eyes drifted away from him.  

Wonwoo then cleared his throat. “Look, you don’t really need all the details, Seokmin. Like I said, I don’t know exactly how she feels about me. I can surmise. I can say we’ve had moments that we shouldn’t. But—genuinely—you probably know more than I do and you’re lying to yourself if you can’t realize that Mingyu is just some advantageous prick who makes her miserable.”

“Well, I think that—I don’t know if it’s really—”

“He walked into an opportunity with her and he knew it. His whole fucking life and career was basically set up for him the second he met her family. He’s beyond lucky Her ever looked his way.”

“Jeez, Wonwoo. Honestly, it’s not like that.”

“How is it not?”

Seokmin ran a hand through his hair, appearing flustered and without a tongue to make sense. “Just—okay—I’ve been around them a lot. I know how it seems from an outsider’s view. They can argue and push buttons. Their relationship isn’t perfect, but whose is? Mingyu didn’t just walk into the family asking for this and that—he’s never asked for anything, no handouts. Everything that’s been ‘set up’ for him was because Her’s family wanted it. They know he’s a good guy.”

The scoff shot from Wonwoo’s mouth like an arrow. “I’m sorry but, what do they want for Her? Were we at the same dinner party? Did you see her nearly burst into tears? She has to live life in this rigid box, trying to conform to everyone else around her. Don’t you think she wants to live her own life? Be her own person?”

“Of course, but—”

“No—why is there even a ‘but’?”

“I don’t think you understand. Her has everything she needs.”

“You mean, what everyone thinks she needs.” Wonwoo tossed his hand up in the air, laughing, while also getting the strong impulse to ring out his friend’s neck. “It doesn’t make any sense to me. How can you be so close to her, but you don’t realize how unhappy she is? You know what I think? You’re part of it, Seokmin. You're always in her business, hovering, watching, sewing seeds of doubt, shooting down her interests—and you disguise it as help. No one in that house listens to her. They’ve told her who she should be instead of letting her figure it out for herself. How can you be so complicit in that? She gets no support from any of you, about the decisions in her life that actually matter. And Mingyu—honestly, he can go fuck himself. He’s just as complicit as you. He’s soul-sucking.”

“God—sh-she’s an adult.” Seokmin was exasperated, his cheeks reddening like two ripe apples. “She doesn’t have to visit her parents. She doesn’t have to date Mingyu. Nothing is forced on her. No one is dragging her there. I help because I know what she's capable of. I know the perfect life she can have. Her parents know, too. But she just gets sidetracked! She gets wrapped up in stuff that doesn't matter! If she hates everything, she can easily walk away.”

“But you guys have made that so impossible for her.”

“How?”

Wonwoo proceeded to clench his fist up so tight he thought his skin might bleed, the edge of his knuckles pressing down on the table.

“She doesn’t know who the fuck she is.”

Seokmin instantly paled. He looked whiter than a snowflake.

“That’s like clipping a bird’s wings and then asking why it can’t fly away. Knowing who you are is such a big part of life. It’s arguably the foundation. What the fuck do you want her to do? I don’t even—I honestly don’t even want to look at you, Seokmin. Let Mingyu beat me up if he wants to—let it happen a thousand times—” slinging the computer bag back over his shoulder, Wonwoo was rising from the picnic table while glaring down at the stiff, empty-faced Seokmin, who had suddenly morphed from a friend to a bitter stranger, “—I don’t care what he thinks. It’s not going to change how I feel about her, or make me stay away. I’ve seen who she can be and what she actually wants from life, and it's not some snotty, vapid, copy-and-paste hell that her parents are forcing on her. But neither of you seem to give a shit. You’re both completely undeserving.”

Stepping away from the bench, Wonwoo tensed his jaw as the sunlight splashed over him, breaking in between the skeletal trees and their resilient orange leaves. “Got everything you wanted to know? Go run it back to Mingyu. I’m sure that’s what you were gonna do anyway.”

The anger in his chest felt like it was going to crawl out from his mouth and squeeze Seokmin into a ball, therefore Wonwoo exercised his breathing while on a strict path back down the walkway.

Abandoning Seokmin did hurt him more than he had thought, knowing he just lost a friend from his already very limited circle, someone whom he clicked with so readily. At the same time, however, there was a lightness about it. As Wonwoo’s frustration seeped out during the walk back to his apartment, some of the weight pressed into his shoulders released itself like water evaporating from a blacktop.

He just wished he could be at your side more than anything.

There was obviously a reason for your silence.

[ Wonwoo | 11:28 am ]: I heard about the break.

[ Wonwoo | 11:28 am ]: I’m here if you need anything at all.

…

[ Her | 4:05 pm ]: you talked to seokmin?

[ Wonwoo | 4:07 pm ]: Yeah. Never again.

[ Her | 4:07 pm ]: mingyu is so mad

[ Wonwoo | 4:07 pm ]: I figure.

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: please avoid him if you can. i’m worried

[ Wonwoo | 4:08 pm ]: I’m not.

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: wonwoo he’s seriously pissed

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: can’t you hang out with vernon some more

[ Wonwoo | 4:09 pm ]: Seriously?

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: yes

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: mingyu got into trouble with dots and had a real big scare. so he doesn’t like to mess much with him or his friends. he'll showboat but that's about it

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: well ik dots died but u get the point

[ Wonwoo | 4:10 pm ]: Fair.

[ Wonwoo | 4:10 pm ]: But I can’t just pull Vernon around as my Mingyu repellent lol. Honestly, if he wants to rock me, idc.

[ Her | 4:10 pm ]: well I do care

[ Her | 4:10 pm ]: ugh

[ Her | 4:11 pm ]: life has been sucking so hard lately

[ Wonwoo | 4:11 pm ]: I want to come see you.

[ Her | 4:11 pm ]: I want that too. but I need more time, k?

[ Wonwoo | 4:12 pm ]: I know.

[ Wonwoo | 4:12 pm ]: Here if you need me.

—OCTOBER 18TH.

For the past two weeks, Wonwoo had been walking around with the looming possibility of getting jumped by your six-foot tall, rather muscley boyfriend, and he was thus very relieved to have made it this far without eating a fist to the face. Well, now Mingyu was an ex.

Maybe.

The pause in your relationship read like a gray area that Wonwoo had been treading the thinnest eggshells on, prompting him to wait and hear the truth from you directly whenever you felt steady enough to tell him. He wondered if today might be that day.

Placing another strawberry onto the cutting board, Wonwoo chopped his knife through the leafy green bit, removing the stem. The cleaned-up strawberry was then dropped into a bowl of fresh ones that you had been picking away at for the past few minutes or so.

Wonwoo smiled while grabbing another berry to cut.

“I feel like this bowl hasn’t gotten any fuller, for some reason.”

Your legs were swinging as you sat atop the small kitchen island while looking down at his every movement with the knife. Once he  dropped another cut strawberry into the bowl, you scooped it out.

“Just making sure they don’t go bad,” you responded, shrugging.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “The fruit you buy usually goes bad within the minute? Are you getting into a fist fight with it?”

You poked at his hip with your socked foot. “Well, you said you were cutting it for me. So can I eat it or not? I’m getting mixed signals.”

“No, of course you can eat it. I’m just teasing.”

“I don’t do too well with delayed gratification.”

Wonwoo smiled at you, proceeding to remove the last few strawberries from the basket to cleanly dissect their stems. He then turned around, tossing the cutting board and knife into the stainless-steel sink with a clatter. After washing his hands, he was back at the island, noticing that the bowl was now seated in your lap like a bag of movie theatre popcorn with just the perfect amount of butter and salt. For a moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything—that focused look to your face as you ate the fruit he prepared was much too captivating. He wanted to catch one of your swinging legs, pull you right to the counter’s very edge and have you wrap yourself around him. He wanted everything with you.

In your earlier days together, Wonwoo used to be a lot more evasive about his staring (at least, that’s what he wanted to believe), but now he didn’t feel as required to be so painfully subtle and imperceptible about things. He let you snack until you were satisfied, the empty bowl then being exchanged with a damp rag to clean your fingers.

“So,” clearing his throat, Wonwoo braced his hands against the granite island and glanced at you from behind his glasses, scanning down the unbothered, relatively straight face you had, “everything going okay?”

Pressing your lips together, you nodded, making only an “mhm” sound that didn’t leave much to be interpreted.

Wonwoo saw the hands that plunged swiftly between your thighs, how you were quick to squeeze around them, like there existed something weighted and hidden.

He wanted to leave it up to your discretion—he really did.

“Okay, that’s good… just—uh, he’s not giving you a hard time, right? He’s not bothering you at all?” Wonwoo asked, adjusting the rim of the black beanie he’d thrown on to keep his messy hair tucked back. “I don’t mean to disinter anything. I’m only asking because I—”

“Because you care,” you finished his sentence quietly with a trusting and faint smile, “I know. Thank you. It is hard for me, though… I don’t know why this particular thing is so hard but it is.”

Wonwoo slid his hands together, moving them slow along the cold granite. “No… that’s understandable. I get it plenty.” Hell—he didn’t just get it—Wonwoo had miserably and insufferably lived it for damn near a year at that point. In fact, tomorrow would mark the day that he came home to this same apartment only to discover the interior stripped of all the traces, sentiments, and artifacts that breathed miraculous life into the girl he once thought to be his other half.

A whole fucking year without Jeanie.

How flipped things were. How oddly coincidental that he was now in the same space but with a new person to create everlasting memories. You had the most opposite personality and spark.

Wonwoo sighed. He got close to you, settling his hand atop your knee before gliding it underneath your thigh, gripping at you firmly and pulling you forward until he was bracketed in between your legs. Your response was smitten, and he couldn’t deny that he loved to practically see your heart beating under your chest in addition to sensing the warmth that flourished off your skin like you were sizzling in a pan.

Wonwoo set one hand down on the counter, right next to your hip, while the other tended to the side of your face, his fingers running behind your ear and down the slender path to your silk-smooth neck.

“Look…” he breathed out, finding your eyes that were now a bit watery and tinged with stinging emotion, “I know it’s hard. And I would never rush you into figuring things out… but I like you…” Wonwoo swallowed, letting his thumb play with your earring meanwhile his deep voice triggered the sharp, raised hairs spreading down your arms like an electric current, “I love spending time with you—even just being in the same room as you, getting to stare at you—but I just—when I don’t know what you are to Mingyu, I don’t know what to do with us.”

You drew in an immediate breath, then releasing a quiet laugh mixed with a runny sniffle. “I-It seems like you know…”

He pushed both his hands into the countertop, smiling at you.

“Well, I know what I want to do…” Wonwoo murmured, gazing so intimately into your eyes as the oceans he urged to drown in, “but you have to understand my reservations about it. That’s all.”

Bringing a pinky finger to your mouth to nibble on, you nodded.

Softly, he pinched the bare expanse of your waist. You gasped.

“Because I do, in fact, want you.”

You didn’t say anything, although Wonwoo noted that you were staring back into his gaze with so many hues of simple human emotion pulsating behind your eyes—there was frustration, possibly at yourself and everything you couldn’t yet communicate, and twinkles of impulse that matched rhythm with your heart. Then, employing unforeseen abruptness, your fingers were running down the back of his neck all ticklish and he felt the warmth from your breath feather his lips as you moved in closer, smirking at him, hazy like a sunrise pouring its light through a thick cover of morning fog.

“If you can be patient for just a little longer, you'll have all of me.”

Thankfully (or maybe not so thankfully judging from the pure adrenaline coursing through his veins in a hedonistic, addictive sort of way) there were a few knocks at his door.

Your eyes rolled. “Is that your landlord or something?”

Wonwoo took a step back, letting you slide off the countertop while he adjusted his glasses and brushed down his t-shirt. How were you suddenly so casual? One second you were chewing nervously on your finger with the timidness of a newborn doe and the next—back to your typical self. He watched you approach the door, tilting his head.

“Uh, maybe? She usually texts me, though.”

“Or Seokmin with a batch of chocolate apology brownies.”

He chuckled, folding his arms. “Doubt it.”

Really, Wonwoo had no idea who it could be. It possibly was his landlord who had perhaps forgotten her usual warning text, or maybe his younger, sometimes irresponsible neighbour across the hall who would specifically ask to borrow his scent-free laundry detergent every now and then. As long as it wasn’t Lady Liberty on the other side (in Vernon’s tried and true nicknaming spirit) then Wonwoo had no reason to care.

“Welp,” you made a balmy, popping sound with your lips, “only one way to find out. I think I can smell the chocolate.” But once the door was pulled open, that little joking smile fell from your face concerningly fast, as though someone had plucked it right off.

Fuck—Wonwoo thought right off the cuff—it was Lady Liberty.

Your head quirked ever so slightly. “Uh, hello…”

Whoever the person was, they were just outside the threshold of what Wonwoo could see from his spot in the kitchen—except, now he didn’t think it was Mingyu at all, since your tone seemed more confused than anything else.

For a moment, Wonwoo just stood where he was, not particularly understanding why he couldn’t even twitch a measly finger.

“Hi—I’m sorry, is this the—is this—does Wonwoo still live here?”

From across the room, you shifted him a glance.

There was a heavy pause before you answered.

“… Yeah.”

“O-Oh, well… um… I’m so sorry, but are you living here as well? Is he home? I don’t mean to bother or anything. I guess I came by on a whim. It’s a little hard to explain… I can always come back later.”

At that point, Wonwoo was making his way beside you.

That voice—that delicate wispy voice, lighter than a tuft of cotton adrift through the breeze under a salt blue sky—there was such a familiarity about it that he was getting dizzier by the second. Your jaw was distinctly clenched as Wonwoo stopped at your side.

He took one look into the hallway and damn near fainted.

“What the fuck…” Wonwoo whispered, his mouth suddenly stark of moisture as he lifted a hand to grab the door’s edge, “Jeanie?”

“Uh, hey, Wonwoo.”

Wait—never mind, never mind—he panicked. Maybe he did want it to be Mingyu. In fact, Wonwoo would have anticipated Bohyuk showing up outside his door, or his parents, or his girlfriend of two weeks back in sixth grade who broke up with him over a juice box before he could guess that his ex who disappeared without a trace would be there.

It sounded borderline insane, but Wonwoo almost wanted to poke her just to test if she was even real. She looked real. She sounded real. You didn’t seem to be staring into empty space while side-eyeing him worriedly, rather you had very much acknowledged her. Wonwoo’s grip fastened to the door, then realizing he was using it as a personal crutch to keep him upright as his legs slowly regained their rigidity and strength. He also realized that you likely had no idea who she was until her name had been distantly tugged from his lips by his instincts.

Jeanie splayed out her hands in a demonstration of submission.

“If it’s a bad time, I can come back later…”

Wonwoo noted that you had taken a step away from the door, although you continued to stare at Jeanie with a countenance that refused to spoil much—it seemed inquisitive and curious but still hardened—the moment was probably overwhelming you, too.

He gulped dryly, flicking his eyes back to her. “Uh, well, I wasn’t even—you’re like, the last person I would expect to see and—”

“It’s okay. I’ll leave.”

Jerking back to you, Wonwoo nearly gave himself whiplash.

“Her—you don’t need to—”

But you shook your head.

Grabbing the cream purse off the couch and slipping back into your comfortable, clean white tennis shoes, you seemed eager to go while simultaneously jaded at the circumstances.

“No, don’t worry about it,” you stopped in front of Wonwoo, adjusting the strap wove around your shoulder, “this seems important, so… I don’t want to stand in the way of anything… I’ll see you later, ‘kay?”

Then, you turned to Jeanie, sticking out your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

She looked to Wonwoo for a split second.

“Um, yeah, you as well…” Jeanie eventually accepted the handshake, sounding breathy with nerves, “sorry about all this.”

While making your way to the staircase, Wonwoo quickly stepped into the corridor and waved at you, feeling his chest tighten.

“I’ll call you, okay?”

You flashed a transient smile. He hated watching you leave.

Jeanie was watching you, too, hands politely folded at her abdomen, bunny rabbit teeth digging at the skin of her ruby-stained and calloused lips. She had always been a chronic lip-biter—anxiety, thrill, or stress, Wonwoo vividly remembered the blisters she absentmindedly inflicted unto herself from the bad habit, similar to the scars marking the cuticle of his thumb. After a year Jeanie looked different no doubt, but she also reflected an unchanged image through her conserved, fidgety behaviours. She was shy like a budding flower kept just short of the sun.

“Are you okay if I come in?” Jeanie mumbled, hardly able to maintain eye contact with Wonwoo for no more than a second or two.

He stepped back, beckoning indoors.

“Yeah… that’s fine, I guess.”

“Looks pretty nice in here…” she remarked soft-spokenly, taking a moment to marvel the space she once came home to every day, although she couldn’t seem more like a stranger to the apartment even if she tried—like a magazine cutout slapped onto a novel.

Wonwoo rubbed under his nose. “Well… I make due.”

Her hair used to be a symmetric, blunt length with her chin, but she had clearly grown it out over the months. The black tresses thrived in long and loose ribbons down her back, shinier than sea glass polished by rough waves. She was never one to wear much makeup either—trimming her eyebrows, glossing her lips, and flicking on some mascara was all she really ever cared to do, and Wonwoo remembered being in love with her simplicity.

Jeanie proceeded to walk behind the couch, squeezing the back in her hands. She was so tiny. That hadn’t changed much. He could only stand in one place, keeping still, examining her every movement and fighting against the trillions of voices clawing to his mind’s surface.

“Feels strange to be in here,” she laughed, running her fingers along the couch’s fabric, staring around the space, “I think it definitely has more of your touch now… it was nice to see Saskia again, too.”

“Yeah.”

She stopped on him. “You look well. Healthy.”

Wonwoo squinted at her. “Why are you here?”

He didn’t say it in a rude, impatient way. Genuinely, Wonwoo wasn’t angry with her, not like he might have been a few months ago.

But he was confused and feeling increasingly anxious. You were gone, probably on your way back home, though Wonwoo wished you hadn’t left at all, even if it were to make things sticky and awkward. Your presence in a room was the comfort he badly, painfully missed.

“Sure,” Jeanie cleared her throat, “I’ll explain. Care to sit?”

Together, they nestled onto the couch.

Wonwoo was kept to one end while Jeanie sat more in the middle, pulling at the long, flowy hem of her fern-patterned blue dress.

He tugged at the rim to his beanie, waiting for her to speak.

The girl gripped onto her knees, poised a soft, gentle look in his direction while taking in a breath. Their nerves seemed to be coalescing like different colours bleeding from freshly soaked paintbrushes. If anxiety were personified into butterflies, the room would start fluttering.

“I guess I thought it was time. Taking a shot in the dark, I know. I didn’t know if you would still be here, but I got lucky…” she clutched at her dress, fingers pulling into the airy material. “Wonwoo, it’s not like I don’t think about you, or wonder about you. I know what I did, how much it hurt… then I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to come back to here, with you. But I processed it all and it became an itch I had to scratch.”

Puffing out through his nose, Wonwoo almost laughed.

“Yeah—you wanted to see if I, what? Threw myself off the building or persevered, becoming some big money writer?”

Jeanie blinked at him a few times, furrowing her neat, straight brow, with every hair gelled down perfectly in place.

Wonwoo shook his head, lifting out his hand.

“Okay, my bad. That sounded like such an asshole thing to say.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” Her cheeks flooded with a tide of rosy pink as she chuckled. “I-I just… well, you seem different now.”

He pushed up his glasses. “You think?”

“Yeah.”

“In a good or bad way?”

Jeanie clasped her hands together, thumbs tapping.

“Well, I guess you seem more... upfront, not as prevaricating. Maybe that’s how you’ve always been and I just never really saw it or you picked it up from someone else.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Probably a bit of both.”

“I am sorry. I know it was all so… sudden. I know this is sudden. I thought about calling... my hands would just shake so much whenever I picked up the phone, getting all sweaty and stuff. It felt like something that I had to just do. And, well, once I was back in the area, I didn’t even want to lend myself time to dwell. I only came in yesterday.”

“You went back home, then?”

“I did.”

“I figured… well, I got the hint pretty clear when your mom sent me that email. It was only a sentence or two long, but it hurt like hell.”

“It’s what I asked her to send. It’s all I felt you needed to know.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

Jeanie sighed, “I feel warranted in what I did… even so, I-I think I owe you an apology. Because, well, you were and still are someone I regard highly. You were going through something pretty serious… I mean, it’s obvious you’re taking such better care of yourself.”

 “It definitely hasn’t been linear.”

Tucking some hair behind her ear, the girl smiled. “Well, what in life really is? It only feels that way when you’re going straight down.”

He hmphed, thinking. “… Yeah. Really though, don’t worry about it. An apology isn’t necessary. You’ve always been too gracious.”

“I-I guess… but, I think it is, since—”

“Jeanie, c’mon. It’s really not. I was dragging you down.”

“Wonwoo, I feel like—”

“I’m telling you—”

“Well, I’m telling you and it would mean a lot if you just let me speak and get this off my chest. Please. Then you can have the floor. Tell me to package it all back up. Whatever it is you have to say. But I spent our entire relationship just listening and trying to understand you and interpret all your vague signals when I should have been trying to understand myself, and what I wanted. I’m not the verbose type, I know that. Going off on longwinded tangents about my feelings has never been something that suits me but I’m here now and I owe it to the girl who just sucked it all up, all the time, trying to be this perfect girlfriend for you.”

He managed a long, introspective breath.

Fuck—he really did owe her that. He owed her so much more.

“… Okay,” Wonwoo nodded complicity, “you’re right.”

“Leaving was the very last thing I wanted. I swear it. I agonized over the choice every day. But you didn’t even notice. That’s when I knew it was more than bad, and whatever it was you were going through was just pulling you down so deep, like a whirlpool. It’s like… I would talk to you, and there was no one inside. When I felt like you needed space, I gave you space. When I felt like you had something hard to say, I would sit with you all day, trying to ease it out, waiting for you to say it.

When you seemed so angry at yourself and everything around you—I-I don’t know—I tried to be the best thing for you. But I was hitting wall after wall. Sometimes I wonder how much of it was my fault. If I had just been upfront about my feelings then maybe things would have been… well, you know, different. I guess I never did say much because it seemed like the last thing you needed to hear, like I would be adding to your already massive collection of burdens. You have to understand, I felt trapped, Wonwoo. Like I was in a glass box or something.

I was decaying from the inside out. If I didn’t leave, if I didn’t make that split second decision to phone up my mom and tell her everything that morning you left for work—then maybe we would have gotten even worse. Maybe we would have just drowned. I don’t know. I’m… glad, relieved, happier than ever, that I don’t know what might have happened. And now that it seems we’re both… whole… I feel like an apology is just a way for me to say that if I had the steel to speak for the both of us, maybe we could have spared so much pain in between.”

Jeanie’s doe eyes twinkled with tears. “I thought that being apart might heal us both… I-I did it ‘cause—in essence—I did it because I cared, Wonwoo. About you. So deeply. But I also needed to start caring about myself, too.”

The corners of his mouth flitted in an unbridled smile toward the girl, his gaze admiring how the evening sunlight warmed up her cool-toned skin and shimmered through her strong, healthy hair.

“I know,” Wonwoo finally answered. “I’ve known for a while.”

Jeanie stayed for about an hour longer, until the sky started darkening. Together, they filled each other in on the breakages in each other’s distant lives, like a spider reweaving a gash through its cobweb. He was pleased to learn that she was doing quite well for herself—now moved out from her family house and living with her younger sister, Jeanie held true to pursuing her ambition of managing the library she had always adored coming to during her childhood (he remembered it specifically as “the one with the bean bag corner and the giant toy crate with the giraffe.”)

Wonwoo felt he didn’t have much to say regarding himself, however, he had plenty to say about you.

Rubbing at a strand of her hair, Jeanie nodded. “Yeah, I remember Her. She—like—she did scare me a bit… I don’t know—she really seemed to know what she was doing. I was a little envious of that. And she had really great style. She could pull anything off. She came in looking for a textbook one time, but I made my co-worker help her instead. I think I was too nervous to talk to her.”

Wonwoo had his legs stretched out onto the coffee table, hands settled on his stomach. Itching at his eyebrow, he smiled. “I probably would have done the same, back then. Honestly though, she’s nothing like what she seems. I can promise you that.”

Jeanie was quiet for a moment, adjusting the legs tucked up underneath herself. “So… you two are… you’re dating?”

“No… it’s weird. I wish.”

“I recognized her when she opened the door. I was pretty confused since… of all the people that you could have over… she seemed like the most unlikely candidate. I-I mean, I’m not saying that you could never—I’m not saying that it could never happen—”

He tilted his head at Jeanie, grinning slyly. “No, just say it. You didn’t imagine I’d ever even be able to talk to someone like her.”

The girl’s face flushed. “Well, you’re quite the opposites.”

“In some ways.”

“I don’t think she’d like me.”

Wonwoo pursed his lip in disagreement. “That’s not true. To be fair, you’ve ever only got to see one side of her. She’s trying to figure shit out just as much as we are. You never really stop, I suppose.”

He felt Jeanie’s gaze still on him for a few seconds, her mouth twitching into a delicate, sincere smile made brighter by her eyes. “So… you figure she’d like me? Even if she knew all the details about us? How rough it all was?”

Wonwoo crossed his arms, staring back toward her confidently. “I figure she’d probably like you more than me, actually.”

8:28 pm

“Hey, thanks for picking up.”

“Oh, no big deal. You called me at a good time. I was just about to start my skincare and I would have needed to sit for fifteen minutes doing absolutely nothing in a slimy face mask.” 

“Sounds fun.”

“I’m guessing your conversation is over and done with.”

“Yeah. She only left like, five minutes ago.”

“And you didn’t want to sit alone in your bedroom contemplating the universe for an additional hour with all the blinds drawn? Woah. Wonwoo, I am impressed. Finger snaps.”

“Finger snaps.”

“So… am I allowed to know how the whole thing went or did you just call me to hear the sound of my voice?”

“Both. But mostly to hear your voice.”

“Okay. Enlighten me then.”

9:45 pm

“Anyway… yeah. The conversation went well. I still can’t believe she actually came back to see me. Like, what a mindfuck, you know?”

“That took a lot of courage from her part.”

“Yeah, it did. Makes me proud, though. To hear her actually speak her mind. She really was just trying to be the best possible person for me and the only thing that got her is heartbreak. She’s putting herself first, now. She’s spending a couple days in the city with her sister.”

“… Do you think that you’ll want to see her again?”

“I don’t know. Do I need to?”

“Do you?”

“No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, as much as it was a shock to see her again, there was great closure in it. If she had come to see me way sooner, no way would I have been open to it—I probably would have freaked the fuck out and had an anxiety attack or some shit—but I feel way better about everything now. I felt like I understood her choices, kinda like I was the one making them... but, you know, we’re evolved people at this point. We’ve veered onto two separate paths, neither one being greater than or less than the other… just different.”

“Right.”

“We just wished each other well.”

“No, that’s great. You put a bow on it. I just didn’t really know what the whole thing was gonna entail… so, yeah, I had gotten kinda worried… like—once I knew it was her—I thought she looked so perfect for you. You two just made immediate sense in my mind. She’s got such a sweet voice, and the kind, shy personality that everyone always adores. I think if you stuck her in a room with me, she’d hate my guts.”

“Ha—Jeanie hates no one’s guts. She’s got no room in her heart for that kind of stuff. You two are different for sure, but I think that’s what would make you interesting and attractive to each other.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If it makes you feel any better, she didn’t think you’d like her either. But I told her you’d probably like her more than me.”

“What! She actually thought that? I mean, maybe I seemed a little damp when I left, but that was just my mind on overdrive.”

“Need me to arrange a date between you two?”

“Ha—she did have a great perfume on. Maybe ask about that.”

“Well, I will if I see her.”

“She doesn’t know about the book you were writing for her, does she? I can’t believe that’s been sitting on your laptop all this time.”

“No, she doesn’t. I used to sit there and stare at it every day, but I don’t think I’ve even opened the damn document in months… since I met you, my mind has gradually moved away from it, I guess. I think now it’s more of an effort thing. All the time I put into it. It’s like, if I delete it, I’m deleting that time from my life… does that even make sense?”

“Yeah, I know what you’re saying.”

“… Did you ever finish your book for Mingyu? I know you wanted it done before your anniversary in December. It seemed like you were on track to have it done quite early, with all that time you gave yourself.”

“I did finish it, actually.”

“No fucking way—that’s a big accomplishment.”

“Yeah. Now I’ve just gotta decide what to do with it.”

—NOVEMBER 3RD.

Wonwoo was fairly surprised that Princess had invited him to her birthday dinner at Terra Cotta. At one point, he wasn’t certain where he stood with your closest friend, even if his relationship with her presented itself as amicable on the surface—he always thought that maybe deep down, Princess really did despise him. Then Wonwoo wondered if you had nipped at the birthday girl into inviting him, although that didn’t seem like something in your character.

Through all his fretting, thumb-scraping, and late-night pondering in the shower, Wonwoo eventually came to the conclusion that was probably the simplest and most accurate: Princess just liked him.

A call from Vernon came through right as Wonwoo was getting into bed last week, to which the rambling boy had impetuously thrown out, “yeah, I got an invite to Her’s best friend’s birthday dinner or somethin’ like that—what was her name again? Penelope? The sexy dark skin girl with the braids? Anyway, I told her I’d love to go, but I’m gonna be out of town for a few days in November. Said I could hook her up with a couple MDMA bombs, though. Y’know, as a gift.”

Thus, that concluded the story of Wonwoo having to sit at a rather large and reserved candlelit table in an expensive, esteemed restaurant, surrounded by some friends and strangers alike, with a plastic baggie of hard drugs shoved into his pants pocket that he couldn’t stop worrying about. Vernon had wanted him to leave it with Princess when appropriate. Most people invited were going to the club later in the night—Room 319—which he figured could only be survived by going buckwild off ecstasy. As his knee continued to ricochet underneath the tablecloth, Wonwoo was soothed by your hand sliding over his thigh.

You gave him a solicitous glance, smiling with care. “Why don’t I just put it in my purse?” The offer was whispered amongst the conversation.

Wonwoo couldn’t help but flit his eyes around the table, ensuring no one was giving his general direction a lick of attention. The waiters and waitresses would pop from the blue every now and then with bottles that seemed glued to their hands, scouring for anyone who needed a top up on alcohol. His glass had been seldom touched for the past half-hour.

He sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine.”

“Wonwoo,” you deadpanned at him.

“It’s fine.”

“Oh my God—just give me it. It’ll take me two seconds to dig it out from your pocket and shove it in my damn purse. Besides, I can’t enjoy myself when the anxiety is emanating off you in waves.”

His knee immediately stopped jerking. Wonwoo looked you straight in the eyes, the stiffness turning him into straw. “Is it really?”

“Yes!” You laughed quietly, your head hunkering down on his shoulder for a brief moment. “Now, give me it please. Pretty please.”

Sliding a hand into the smooth pocket on his pants, Wonwoo began fishing out the small plastic baggie while puffing, “fuck—alright.”

“Gosh,” he heard you mumble while discreetly taking the capsules from him, rustling them into your purse, “you could never be a drug dealer, could you? How are you even friends with Vernon? That dude probably walks around with sample sizes taped to his jacket.”

“It’s different.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo was finally able to roll out his shoulders and relax—even give you a humorous little smirk, “I have a way better chance of escaping the drug dogs than he does. I’ll get a nice head start.”

His thigh was met with a slap before your hand pulled away. “I’m acting like I don’t know either of you.”

To be fair, Wonwoo couldn’t picture his bad-mouthed, fairly uncouth friend in a snotty establishment like Terra Cotta, especially considering his ideal places to eat were twenty-four-hour diners and cereal pantries belonging to girls whom he’d just slept with. The restaurant was no doubt beautiful, though it was definitely for the upper echelons who could not only afford it, but also act the pleasant, opulent guise.

At least the table that Princess reserved was a bit more separated from the other tables in the restaurant—it was close to a waterfall built into the wall, encompassed by all sorts of burnish-looking smooth stones.

Neither Seokmin or Mingyu were at the dinner—two absences that no one seemed to be questioning. To Wonwoo, that was a gigantic relief—he assumed you felt the same. Clara was there, seated further down the table, but Bells wasn’t. Seungcheol was an obvious guest, and besides you, he was the person that Wonwoo had spoken to the most since arriving at the restaurant—he’d even given Wonwoo the slip on his secret gift for his girlfriend, which was a two-week vacation to the Bahamas after the winter exam season.

Wonwoo was a little jealous.

He would love for you and him to vacation somewhere.

Maybe even take you back to South Korea.

“So, you guys,” Princess had started a conversation with you and Wonwoo from across the table, hands folded underneath her chin while she smiled kindly between you, “think you’ll come to the club after?”

You pouted at her, “we’re passing, babe. A million sorries.”

“Awe, that’s okay.” She reached across the pristine tablecloth to lay her hand over top yours. “You already took me out for my birthday, anyway. And let me vomit in your washroom for two hours.”

“Mmhm. You’d do the same for me.”

Princess giggled, her grin luminous and wholly genuine. “Oh, of course. I have already done it!”

“Well, you’ll have to tell me all about Room 319. The stories I’ve heard about that place—sounds like some shit from a movie.”

“Trust me, you’ll get the entire script in a bound book. I know the club thing isn’t for everyone—that’s why I did the dinner. And I’m doing cupcakes instead of cake! Remember those red velvet cupcakes we had that one night? And then that other night? Fuck—I couldn’t stop thinking about those damn things.”

“Oh, those were fucking delicious.”

“De-licious. Have you ever got to try one, Wonwoo?”

He swallowed, a bit jarred to be welcomed into their conversation that he had been happily listening to from the sidelines.

“I tried one. I liked it.”

Princess gasped at him. “Only liked? Be serious!”

“Well, ask me again later tonight. I wasn’t having it fresh.”

“I will be asking. How’s Vernon? I’m sad he couldn’t make it.”

“Oh, he’s fine. Sometimes he just mysteriously disappears from town for a couple days—I don’t ask because I don’t want to know. But, uh, he did leave me with a gift for you… if you didn’t already know.”

“Oh… oh! Right!” Princess straightened up, nodding. “Yeah, I remember. You can give it to me when we leave. Outside.”

“I have it actually,” you clarified, flickering a transient look at the tiny purse you had moved onto the table,  “when we take a girl’s trip to the washroom, you can have it. The dose is pretty high. I know I don’t have to worry about you and this stuff, but be careful, y’know?”

“Of course. Just make sure you hide the purse in your lap when the waiter comes back. They love offering to take bags and satchels and all that stuff to hang in the coat room.” After clearing her throat with a sip from her pink, frothy champagne, Princess curiously poked at you two. “So, how do you guys plan to spend the rest of your night?”

Wonwoo opted not to speak.

You grabbed your wine glass, swirling the aromatic alcohol around inside while shrugging. “Not sure. It’s chilly out. Hope you don’t freeze your tits off standing outside in the mile long line for the club.”

“That’s what this push-up is for. The padding’s so toasty warm.”

Laughing with Princess, you ended up snorting.

Seungcheol, who was sat beside his girlfriend and had been occupied in speaking to a friend Wonwoo forgot the name of, finally parted from his conversation, turning his head at the last second to hear the giggling.

“Push-up? What are you guys talking about?”

You shook your head. “Nothing—just her bra.”

“Oh,” Seungcheol mumbled, “what about her bra?”

Princess smiled. “Just that with all this padding it’s got, it’ll keep me nice and warm when I’m waiting outside. Perfectly insulated.”

Rubbing a thumb and index finger along his jaw, Seungcheol grinned all relaxed-like while Princess rolled her dark brown eyes at his comment, the gold accents in her inner corners glimmering.

“I bet my hands would be a lot more efficient. Nothing warmer than skin on skin as they say.”

She shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. “Who says that? Now, bedroom eyes away before I make you wear a bag over your head.”

“I don’t see a bag here.”

“As the birthday girl, I’m pretty sure I can request one.”

The dinner officially wrapped up around ten at night. Wonwoo was able to reaffirm with Princess that the red velvet cupcakes were indeed moist and delicious. As everyone stood right outside the restaurant in the nippy, cold November weather, giving hugs and farewells to those who weren’t clubbing, he made sure to wish Princess probably the twentieth happy birthday she’d heard that night. He waited for you to give her another speech about staying safe but still having fun, sprinkled with lots of “I love you’s” and inside jokes that Wonwoo wondered if he would ever understand, before you two left on your own.

Each time he spoke, his breath would come to life in a warm wisp from his mouth, meanwhile the streets lights reflected in the melted snow all over the sidewalk he aimlessly wandered down, with you sticking close to his side. It hadn’t been a heavy snow, at least.

“Be honest,” you said, glancing toward Wonwoo, “how relieved are you that we’re not going to the club? On a scale of one to ten.”

“Is ten the most relieved?”

“Yeah.”

He looked at you, completely unabashed. “Ten.”

Kissing your teeth, you nodded. “That’s what I expected.”

“So,” Wonwoo hummed, stopping beside you at the intersection while waiting for the crosswalk light to change, “what now?”

Your eyebrows raised. “Still want to do something?”

As the cars whipped past, throwing up brisk winds and exhaust into the twinkling city atmosphere, Wonwoo shrugged. “The night is young.”

“What's on your mind?”

“We’re not far from Centertown. It’s maybe a fifteen-minute walk or so at this point. There’s a bar there I want to try. The Honeymoon.”

He was glad you didn’t seem opposed.

“Sure. I’m down.”

Once the crosswalk was open and the floods of people started pressing forward, there was somebody who passed them—somebody who almost went completely unnoticed by Wonwoo until his memory reloaded and he suddenly found himself pausing to observe over his shoulder.

You pulled at his sleeve. “What?”

“Uh, nothing,” Wonwoo replied, wetting his dry lips while heeding your polite tug, “the woman that passed us—she’s dressed exactly like this prostitute that Vernon told me he saw last winter, hanging outside Room 319. She has the heels and everything.”

“What the fuck. Really?”

“Mmhm,” he laughed, “he called her Pink Heels Lady. To be honest, I thought he was lying… but I’m pretty sure that was her.”

“Spooky. Coincidence or fate, do you think?”

Wonwoo glanced at you, seeing the intrigued smile on your face.

“I don’t know, actually,” he responded after the question hovered around in his mind for an oddly long second, deciding to pick up your hand in is, “I assume it’s just the universe working its magic.”

Wonwoo was never particularly into bars, although he could tolerate them much more than a club despite their parallels. The seedy lighting, deafening music, and signature throw-up gutter in the street or alleyway right outside the building was crucial to both, he had realized.

The Honeymoon was a newer bar that had garnered some notable buzz. It was less like a pub, being slightly more formal with a touch of modernity that had landed it just below presumptuous, in Wonwoo’s opinion. At least the music wasn’t overbearing, nor was there intoxicated, flush-faced men hollering at sports teams on televisions that would never hear them. You decided to sit at the counter, sliding onto the heightened chairs and leaving your jackets draped over the low backs.

You bristled, shaking out your shoulders. “I’m cold.”

Wonwoo cupped his hands overtop your icy cheeks for a moment, allowing some of his warmth to seep into your skin.

“A drink will fix that right up.”

“How are your hands hotter than mine? You’re always freezing.”

He smiled at you, letting you have your face back. “I can warm them up at will to your benefit.” Wonwoo joked, bumping his knee against yours. “What do you think of the place?”

Your lip pursed as you glanced around, examining the bartenders filling up glasses with their silvery, shiny spouts, and then over your shoulder at the numerous other tables occupied by the city’s strangers. For a frigid November night, it was quite full.

“It’s nice. The lighting is pretty. Reminds me of Alley Cat.”

“Oh, yeah. Vernon took me there once to celebrate my exams being done, then he got into a fist fight with this university student over something I can’t remember—smashed a glass on the dude’s head.”

Predictably, your eyes rolled. “Only Vernon is getting into fist fights at Alley Cat.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “Well, now he can’t get into fist fights there at all—management banned him and the other guy. Apparently, they’ve got this back wall of people who’ve been kicked out and he’s on there.”

“Figures,” you sighed.

“Oh my gosh! Wonwoo? It’s you!”

At the sound of his name being excitedly called, Wonwoo was soon met with the surprised but cheerful expression coloured to Sierra’s freckled face. He hadn’t forgotten that she worked there, but he was clueless about her schedule. She looked very pretty, glowing in a halo almost, with her coarse, reddish-brown hair pulled back slick into a ponytail and a crisp, clean black uniform tailored to fit her perfectly.

Wonwoo grinned. “Hey there. I didn’t know you worked tonight.”

Sierra set one hand onto the lacquered wood counter while the other stuck to her hip. “I don’t usually. Fridays are game nights with my little sister. But there was a call-in. A little extra cash never hurt.” The girl’s big, round eyes then flitted to you. “Her, right? I don’t think we’ve ever met formally. I know you’re one smart cookie, though.”

“I’d like to think so,” you answered, smiling back at Sierra, “you were at the party, weren’t you? The one Seungcheol threw this summer?”

She nodded, “I was. I made a few drinks here and there.”

“I never got to taste one,” you frowned, pouting.

Throwing up her hands, Sierra was quick to exclaim with her typical charisma and sugar sweetness, “what! Preposterous! I think I’m pretty wicked at it. What are you thinking of having?”

“To be honest, I’m not looking for anything too fancy at the moment. In fifteen minutes from now, I won’t be able to promise the same. I’d like to start off with a rum and coke, if that’s alright. For now.”

Sierra grinned. “No, that’s perfect. What about you, Wonwoo?”

He shrugged. “I’ll have the same. For now.”

“Well, for now, I’ll start you guys off with two rum and cokes.”

Leaning his elbows onto the countertop, he threw her a question.

“How’s it going with Carmen?”

While she prepared the drinks, Sierra blossomed into a smile. “Oh, it’s going great. She’s genuinely a blast. We’re going to the movies next week—that horror one is coming out, about the swimming pool—we think it’s gonna suck but that’s what makes it fun.”

Once Sierra slid you the cold glass, you tilted your head at her while fixing your lips around the black straw. “Who’s Carmen?”

“My girlfriend.” Sierra answered. “We met here, actually.”

“Ugh, no way,” you swooned, pressing a cheek into your hand as the next drink was given to Wonwoo, “that’s so fucking adorable. Does she ever tell you how beautiful you look in that all-black uniform?”

Giggling, Sierra wiped down the countertop and flushed. “I’ve heard it many times. It’s honestly just a t-shirt and slacks!”

“Well, you’re making it work.”

“Please—my face is heating up! You’ve got quite the gorgeous dress on yourself, you know. I always wonder where you get all your clothes. Wonwoo, have you complimented her yet, tonight?”

Mixing the ice cubes together to hear the satisfying clinks using his straw, he answered easily. “It was the first thing out of my mouth.”

Sierra nodded in satisfaction. “Good! Well, I won’t hover. But if you need any refills or have any questions, you can try to flag me down—or ask Jamie! She’s just down there. She’s great at martinis. Later!”

Once Sierra had left to busy herself with tending to others waiting service at the counter, you looked to Wonwoo, lips downturned.

“Jeez, she’s so freaking nice. How come I don’t have that kind of natural charm? Not that I’m not charming. But hers is so… magnetic.”

“Everyone’s got their natural quirks.”

“Yeah, well, my natural quirk is that I’m probably going to down this in the next two minutes. And then have three more after that.”

Wonwoo rubbed a hand to your shoulder, smirking into the glass that he raised to his mouth. “Just focus on the one you have now.”

3 more rum and cokes (+ 1 martini) later.

“No, no—but then, it gets even worse! Because not only had she been lying straight to his face the entire time, so was his best friend! They were seeing each other for weeks and weeks—he had no idea. What gave it away though, was the perfume. He was always telling her not to wear heavy perfumes and stuff because it will leave a scent on the sheets, but she messed up—so they freaked it, she spends the night, and then the next day when he’s over, he goes into his friend’s room looking for a charger and smells the perfume on the sheets! He puts it together! And then, and then—”

You paused, picking up the wide-mouthed martini glass to take a sip in the midst of your long-winded and passionate adultery story that Wonwoo had been struggling to follow for the past blurred time interval, the names now completely lost on his ears. There was hardly anything left in your glass, which led to your frustrated grumble, followed by an attempt to flag down the bartender, Jamie.

However, Wonwoo swiftly caught your hand despite his own impaired state, lowering it back to the countertop.

“Okay, I think that’s enough.” He pushed forward the cup of water he requested for you. “The least you can be right now is hydrated.”

Although you weren’t happy about his thwarting, you did yield to the advice and drink some of the water. Wonwoo knew he should probably have some himself after his own splurge on the bar’s pricy concoctions, but he still felt that he was holding up quite well. Before Jamie could whisk by again, he made sure to ask for another cup.

“So, what happened next?” Wonwoo nudged your elbow while you stared off cluelessly, urging you to continue the story.

“What?”

“He smells her perfume on the bedsheets. Now what?”

However, you were suddenly slumping forward, forehead nestled into your hands. For a moment, you stayed like that without word, until Wonwoo couldn’t help his concern and touched at your bare shoulder.

“Not feeling well?”

You shook your head, whining out, “no, no. It’s not that.”

He frowned, scooting to the edge of his chair and securing his arm across your shoulders. His voice was softer and closer against your warm cheek as he attempted to gauge that sour, twisted expression past your concealing hands, wanting to understand your hiding.

“Well, am I allowed to know what’s bothering you?”

Again, you remained silent, biting your lip. There was such tenseness in your body that he could simply feel with just his arm.

Wonwoo leaned back, instead tugging at your wrist. “Can I at least see your face? Please?” You didn’t budge. “Her, you’re worrying me a bit, here. Do you need me take you home—”

“Okay, I have something to tell you.” Breaking abruptly from your husk, you were now staring straight and square at Wonwoo with distinct inebriation cloudy in your eyes, although there was something else too that compelled Wonwoo to bite his tongue and listen. “Honestly, I think I’ve held onto this long enough. And, I’ve wanted to confess this to you for a while now, but there was just so much debris in my life that I needed to sort through first. But you’re beyond important to me, and I just think that it’s time you finally know… so, can I tell you?”

“Um…”

Wonwoo’s throat was suddenly bone-dry and his pulse had spiked to the point where he could feel a vein along his neck start throbbing—he even pondered waving down the bartender for another drink to pacify his growing nerves.  

Ultimately, Wonwoo wouldn’t last that long. Pushing up his glasses, he nodded, noting that you hadn’t blinked once while you waited.

“Sure. Tell me.”

Your upper lip twitched.

“Mingyu’s been cheating on me, for two years.”

Wonwoo was quick to feel all his awareness become dull and drowned. He hardly registered his elbow shifting across the countertop, almost knocking over the glass of water onto the floor, nor did he realize the manner in which his mouth had subtly dropped open. You continued to stare at him with intensity, likely studying every tweak and fidget in his body language before swallowing deeply and choosing to continue the revelation.

He tightened up his jaw, trying to seem firm.

You looked ashamed of yourself as you admitted, “it’s been going on for two years, and I’ve known for about a year.”

“Really?” He answered, sounding mystified. “An entire year?”

“Give or take.”

Then, Wonwoo was shaking his head. His fist had clenched up tight, though it wasn’t the usual automated response that accompanied his anxiety—he found there was immediate distaste and anger swirling together like storm clouds in the pit of his stomach.

Your gaze was cast to the water glass on the countertop, which you moved away for no apparent reason, your expression emptied.

After a frail sigh, you continued, “do you remember that day I came into creative writing and got super upset at that guy for sitting in my seat? Remember how we talked about it at the nature museum, and I told you that I had a fight with Mingyu before going to class?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, that day, I tried bringing it up to him. And it totally didn’t go over how I thought it would. Mingyu denied it all… of course, I only had some vague but suspicious texts to go off of, which he explained his way out of pretty poorly. But I just accepted it for the sake of our relationship. And I never brought it up again until… you know.”

Wonwoo let a natural, stagnant silence fall in between you, meanwhile the encompassing atmosphere was kept flowing by the various conversations of those around you—seemingly happy—with plenty to drink as they kept warm from the bitter cold just outside.

He was biting his tongue, though he couldn’t hold the question any longer, piquing his, “do you know who he was cheating with?”

A huff shot straight through your nose.

“I know…” you mumbled, “and you know her, too.”

Suddenly, a name popped to his mouth without thought.

“Bells.”

When you didn’t confirm nor deny, opting to stare off to the side to conceal the emotion springing forth, Wonwoo knew it was solid truth.

“Fuck…” he cursed, grazing his hand across the smooth leg that was folded over your knee, “I’m so sorry… I’m at a loss for words.”

You could only sigh while a glossy film developed in your eyes.

“I mean, I’ve been through all the stages already—grief, denial, acceptance—whatever the other ones are—so I don’t know why I’m still getting so choked up about it. I obviously didn’t want to believe it… I mean, who the fuck does? Especially when you truly do have feelings for that person.” Shaking your head and sniffling, you exasperatedly flicked out a hand. “Her and her stupid sparkles. That was when I really started putting it together. Oh, I’m going out to play poker, babe! And the next day, I’m wearing his sweater, and I realize there’s these fucking little bits of glitter on it, inside it—it was like a fucking beacon that was just screaming at me—hey! Your asshole boyfriend is cheating!”

That was something Wonwoo had noticed himself, after Bells had bumped into him at the party—the girl’s adoration for sparkly clothing and makeup essentially left behind a glaring trail of glimmery breadcrumbs. Wonwoo had found them on his clothes once he took them off and could really see the fabric underneath the light. The confession suddenly painted your actions that night in a new colour.

Rubbing against your temple, you explained further despite the struggle to speak over that clogged sound coming from your throat.

“It’s not like I’m stupid, either, even if right now, in this situation, I seem like it. I know what Bells is like… she’s spoiled rotten—always has been—and is used to getting whatever the fuck she wants. But, you see, that’s the thing! That’s the fucking thing! Seokmin, Clara, Bells, even Princess—I only met them because of the webs my parents have in their business world. I was never really allowed to find my own friends. It really just shows how much they had a say in my life… don’t misconstrue, I truly do love Princess and she’s by far the most normal, grounded person amongst them. She actually listens, and cares. But I was only allowed to befriend her ‘cause my parents know her parents.

Mingyu seemed like the one person I was actually able to connect with on my own… but he’s honestly changed so much. It’s like, my parents were able to get their little fangs in him and warp him. And now… I really don’t think he loves me at all… I think he loves my image, and what I represent, and the opportunities that come with me… but, I don’t think he actually, genuinely loves me like he used to... like, back then, he was so, so sweet. He was always fumbling over himself, nervous, trying his best. I mean, you've read about it! He used to want to be an architect, Wonwoo. A freaking architect! He sketched all the time. He has a closet drawer full of sketch books from when he was younger. But everything's different now. He doesn't care. He hates when I bring it up! He hates me!

And I don’t just think—I know it, Wonwoo. He resents me, but he won’t let go. Instead, he just sucks the life out of me, like he’s trying to get me to hate myself, too. And I do. I guess, as long as I hate myself, it makes me perfect in their eyes. I’ll just keep letting them mould me until I feel complete.”

Wonwoo didn’t know what to do.

Hell, he didn’t even know what to say except for the fact that you were right—as long as you always felt subpar, or lacking, or frustrated with your drought of true identity, it would lead you back to the reliance you had on the deceptive characters in your life—it was nothing but a miserable cycle designed to bog you down and snuff you out. At least your tearful eyes had dried up.

You looked at him fondly, with a gentle smile. “That’s what I like so much about you… even if you didn’t intend to—which I know you didn’t, judging from what I’ve heard about you trying to avoid writing with me—” (he bit his inner cheek coyly, casting a somewhat anxious hand through his hair), “—you helped me realize parts of myself that were always there, but only needed some nurturing. You actually encouraged me. Supported me. And—okay—I know I said that I hate myself—but since I’ve met you, I’ve been replacing it with an understanding of my situation. I’ve been kinder. I’ve been more of myself. I like to think what we have is a sort of symbiosis.”

Wonwoo nodded. “I think you’re right.”

“Do you think that I’m… stupid… for staying?”

Immediately, Wonwoo’s face furled in disagreement. “No, no. Absolutely not. Mingyu’s been with you for so long. He has an integral quality in your life. It would be difficult to uproot yourself just like that. No one’s a better judge of that situation than you.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

As you relaxed back into the bar chair, Wonwoo could practically see this heavy, dark mist levitate from you and dissipate into the air. He knew that feeling of relief and inner freedom very well, and there was almost nothing that could compare to it.

Wonwoo then sipped from his glass of water, continuing to watch the stiffness melt off you like ebbing spring snow. "So, what was his response like? To your accusations? Was he at least honest?"

"Yeah, I got it all out of him eventually," you revealed with a very cumbersome sigh. "But he was deflecting like crazy... I'd never seen him like that before... he was fumbling his words all over, like he used to when we were first dating. But it was different. It wasn't nerves, it was just blind anger. He said I was no better. I mean, he's convinced we've had sex, and he wouldn't accept my denial, no matter what."

"It's not black and white," Wonwoo said, squeezing your arm, "it seems to me like a natural consequence. You felt trapped and alone."

For a split second, Jeanie flashed in his mind. A sear of guilt snapped through him. Mingyu would have much reflecting to do.

Nodding your head, you looked to Wonwoo and graced him with the words he may or may not have been waiting months to hear: "it's all over now—Mingyu and I—I made that extremely clear. And I honestly don't care what anyone else has to say. My mom didn't want to believe it... she's been acting strange since. I don't blame her."

In response, he merely nodded, warming you up with his gentle eyes.

But then he was shifting forward in his seat, elbows settled to the counter. Although it was quite late and he felt exhausted from drinking, his curiosity about a particular matter was still sharp.

“So… I’m wondering… what's your reason for writing the book?”

You gulped. “I wanted a way of looking back on everything. Seeing if maybe I could find myself somewhere amongst all those memories. Maybe when I started losing Mingyu was when I started losing myself. Maybe that's when I realized I was losing myself. Maybe that's when I realized I never really knew myself to begin with.”

He shrugged, his face colouring with admiration for you.

“Well... have you found something?”

Your only means of response was a twinkle-eyed grin.

The walk back to your apartment wasn’t as dreadful as Wonwoo anticipated, mostly attributed to the alcohol soaking up in your stomachs, keeping your blood warm even in the face of a tough, harsh wind. Back when it wasn’t so late in the night and his lips had yet to touch his first rum and coke, Wonwoo thought he would take himself home after seeing you off first. But now it was almost midnight, and he had this impending feeling of vertigo while he walked, and he was therefore very limp to fight the offer that involved a comfortable stay at your place until morning.

Wonwoo wasn’t exactly sure where he deposited his coat or his shoes, or even his phone—instead he found himself sitting at the end of your bed, listening to the muffled sound of a running sink behind a closed door as you were busy in the washroom.

He leaned over, removing the glasses already slid down his nose and rubbing a palm into his eye until stars traversed the length of his vision. So, Lady Liberty was a cheater. For the past two years. It did bring Wonwoo to wonder what else Mingyu had said during your argument. Did he ever give a reason for cheating? Did he feel boxed into a life that wasn't the enriching utopia he surmised it might be, but he was toughing it out for the sake of success? Was he cheating because he was mad at you or mad at himself?

Or was he honestly just an asshole?

The Mingyu he was familiar with was shifty, and hardened, and image-obsessed, and now Wonwoo knew for a fact he wasn’t delusional for feeling the tension between you and him whenever you were together. God—he could practically cut all the thickness in the air using Seokmin’s nose and serve it like pieces of cake. But Mingyu hadn't always been like that according to your allegories. Deep down there could still be traces of the man you fell in love with, flickering like shiny little minnows beneath murky, clouded water.

But it was too late now.

Fitting his glasses back on, Wonwoo rolled back the sleeves to his crisp white dress shirt, proceeding to take a gander around your bedroom that he hadn’t revisited in quite some time.

The running sink in the washroom across the hall was finally turned off, although Wonwoo had stopped paying attention to the background noise in place of reading your every detail off the walls. In minuscule ways, the room had changed. There were missing photographs from the dresser, your makeup vanity drawers no longer left ajar in your likely last-minuting rushing to ensure everything was perfect. The closet seemed cleaned-out. Emptier than it once was.

“I thought you might fall asleep.”

He jumped slightly, realizing that you were in the bedroom now, setting down your heels in the corner before making a stride toward the closet where the dress over your arm was hung back up.

Wonwoo bit his lip. “I questioned it.”

You smiled, and within that moment he noticed the long t-shirt you were draped in was the dark blue, logoed math shirt, the one you’d picked after sprinting back to his apartment amidst a rain storm. He felt something in his chest swell and ache in response to how pretty you looked wearing it. Wonwoo knew he was staring, blushing, but he didn’t care. You had two of his t-shirts now. He hoped that collection might continue growing. He hoped that you wore them until his scent was naturally replaced by the strawberry sweetness of your own.

“Thinking about anything in particular?” You asked, arms folded.

Slapping a guilty little grin on his face, Wonwoo shrugged. “No.”

But then you started striding toward Wonwoo, uttering out something half-whispered that sounded a lot like “liar”, and now he truly wasn’t thinking about a damn thing, not even his own breath, as you proceeded to slide your arms around his neck and seat yourself in his lap. He was frozen. You hadn’t been this fucking close to him since you two had cuddled during Seungcheol’s party.

But this was worse—this was full-throttle intimacy with your penetrative, fluttering eyes eating up his soul while your bare thighs squeezed the sense out of him, trapping him, testing him.

“Scared?” You whispered, moving your face in closer.

Yes—he was horrified—he couldn’t even speak with you smiling at him so innocently despite the flames you were igniting.

Though, when he felt a wriggle from your hips that seemed to push against him in all the right places, Wonwoo’s hands were immediate on your waist, tight and stilling, and he swore there was a vulnerable, pliant spark in your eyes that he had never seen before. Maybe Wonwoo could have been more polite about the approach, but after waiting so, so long, he felt like a rocket ship rife with fuel.

He kissed you.

In one decision his lips were pressed to yours, and in a kiss that was full of friction and earnest want, he could only dig deeper. Your arms curled further around his neck, to which you slipped in a quick, sharp breath before pouring yourself back into him so suddenly, mouths moulding again and again, spit slickening, noses bumping. He would have paused to take off his glasses, though Wonwoo was in no place to leave your lips for even a second—especially when your playful tongue glided with his and the world around him melted like wax.

Maybe he was biased (or maybe it was love), but Wonwoo swore it had never felt this right to kiss someone. He knew it, somewhere outside himself, far out in the ever-expanding universe and every other version that belonged, that this moment felt destined to happened. Wonwoo had never particularly believed in fate.

But then he wouldn’t know how else to describe you.

His hands itching to touch more of your skin had gravitated to the thighs clenching at his hips. Your warmth and smoothness only made him greedier. As the kissing became messy in the desperation, he couldn’t help but slide his hands to your ass, immediately kneading his cold fingers into the flesh, pulling, squeezing, pushing you closer into him because he quite literally wanted you to engulf his body.

Then, you were gripping at the back of his hair. You had opened up his throat for your wet lips to continue exploring, and Wonwoo felt every suckle and teething bite draw him further from clarity.

Each kiss slithered lower, until you were gradually lifting from his lap and placing yourself onto the carpet floor. Wonwoo had leaned back to tightly fist the bedsheets behind him, although he would never waver his lusted eyes from the sight of you between his spread legs, on your knees, palming him overtop his dress pants while biting your swollen, glistening lip. He almost wanted the camcorder to capture it.

“How does it feel?” You hummed, staying focused on each pressured movement your hand applied to his prominent erection.

Wonwoo chuckled, clearing the huskiness in his throat, “like I’m gonna die.” His head tilted back. “Holy shit.”

Flashing nothing but a conniving, pleased smile, you tended to undoing his belt buckle. Wonwoo was burning up. As you pulled down the zipper to his pants and helped him shift down the waistband to his underwear an adequate distance, he couldn’t process anything but the fact that he might burst like an explosion of confetti the second your hand would touch him.

Except, you opted to sit back on your haunches.

Tilting your head, you smirked at him.

“I would like a demonstration, please.”

He almost choked. “A what?”

“A demonstration,” you repeated, shuffling closer in between his thighs and gazing up much too seraphically through your lashes, “won’t you show me how you touch yourself, Wonwoo? Please?”

For the life of him, he couldn’t produce one stupid fragment of a sentence, or even a word. God—it didn’t fucking help that you took reign and offered to get him started—your hand carefully reaching past his underwear, gripping onto him gently to spring his erection free. A shiver surged throughout his body at the sensation. Hotness spread like molten lava across his face as the result of your lascivious, teasing actions stood leaking and stiffer than wood right before your eyes, which were agleam with thrill and haze.

You seemed as though you were going to pounce on him.

But he could visibly see you swallow the temptation.

“Aww, you have the prettiest dick I’ve ever seen,” you giggled, wrapping a hand around him that was soft and warm, “would it make you feel better if I started you off, then? Gave you some help?”

Wonwoo’s fists were tangled so intensely into the bedsheets he was surprised the fabric hadn’t disintegrated. Holding his breath, he watched you lean forward until your mouth was hovering an agonizing distance over him, only to produce a line of spit that dripped onto his head. His jaw unhinged in a groan. Then you began working the saliva along his shaft, pumping a hand up and down, occasionally flickering your thumb over the sensitive tip only to remove the contact so casually, likely knowing it would rip him apart.

“Your turn.”

He took a second to push up his glasses and shake his head.

“M’not gonna last long, you know,” Wonwoo grunted, at last heeding your request and beginning to stroke himself for your viewing pleasure, “especially after that big display. You fucking tease.”

With an arm slid over his thigh and the drool collecting in your mouth, you couldn’t have looked anymore dazzled by the thirst you were experiencing, your eyes refusing to part from every tug delivered by his own hand. It was a spell, and you were unapologetically under it.

“Mmm, a tease?” You purred, smiling. “I was just trying to help.”

“Were you?” Wonwoo scoffed, pumping faster while continuing to twist up the bedsheets using his other hand. “Rubbing your fucking spit into my cock is tt-trying to help me? Is that what you think?”

“Mmhm,” you answered, straightening up as Wonwoo felt himself become tenser, felt the pressure in his abdomen climb.

He shuddered, a groan reverberating from somewhere deep in his chest. The sound of his fist wetly slapping up and down consumed the room and Wonwoo knew it was only a matter of seconds before he lost it. You were basking in every sound and movement.

“Fuck, fuck, I-I can't—”

Suddenly, you’d pushed Wonwoo’s hand away. His stomach flipped upside down. Before he could recognize the brief loss and regain of pleasure, your suckling, wet, hot mouth was already sliding down around his erection, your grip fastening to whatever you couldn’t quite reach. Wonwoo bit his lip so hard at the sensation that something coppery-warm was tasted on his tongue, although that was the least of his concerns when you were throating him with messy desperation. His hand rested on your scalp, nervous to push your head down too firmly, but once he did, you moaned out so erotically around him that Wonwoo fragmented.

His hips bucked straight into your face while his fingers had tightened at the back of your scalp, feeling every intense throb expand against your throat, spurt after spurt filthy in your mouth. But you were diligent and zealous and Wonwoo knew you were swallowing it all despite the few tears trickling onto his pelvis. His length didn’t leave the velvet, pillowy confines of your mouth until every bit was expertly milked out from him, though had Wonwoo let his hand drift off your hair in case you wanted a breath.

With a hiccup and a wipe against your chin, you were tasting the bedroom’s heavy air and exhaling ragged as Wonwoo marvelled you.

“Trying to take my soul with you or something?” He huffed, using his thumb to remove some leftovers from the side of your lips.

You caught his hand in an instant. “No—” you piped up, quick to close your mouth around the digit and suck off whatever he politely removed, laving your tongue like you were licking a popsicle, “—I want all of it.”

He thought he might crumble, hearing you mumble such obscene words while tracks of tears dried overtop your cheeks, your voice sounding somewhat hoarse from the labour of taking him whole.

You were climbing back onto Wonwoo’s lap almost blindly, his next breath taken away by a passionate kiss you pushed so fervently onto his lips. There was another tangling of tongues, saliva mixing together, but neither attempting to take control— though at this point Wonwoo would gladly oblige to throwing you on the bed and twisting off those frustrating panties he imagined were sticking to you. He could feel your arousal dampening through the baby pink cotton as his length twitched back to hardness underneath you.

“Wonwoo,” you whined breathily into his ear while grinding your hips against him in search of friction, “I’ve got to tell you something I did.” You bruised up his neck with more kisses. “Something bad.”

His eyes were shut, hands continuing to grope your ass. “Yeah?” He mumbled, feeling your tongue drag across a vein in his neck. “You did something bad? What could that be?”

Your hands drifted down his chest, yanking open the buttons on his dress shirt in satisfying pops. Warm, feathery breath hit his ear. “That day I stayed the night in your bedroom… alone…” you kissed him on his mouth, letting it linger and last, “I couldn’t help it.”

Wonwoo had gripped the side of your face, meanwhile he rubbed underneath the waistband to your tiny, thin underwear.

“Couldn’t help what?”

He flinched as your hand sunk down to grab his cock.

“I touched myself,” you confessed just an inch from his face, “I laid back against your pillows, spread my legs all wide… I had my fingers stuffed so deep inside myself, but it still didn’t feel like enough.” Again, you were softly stroking him. Wonwoo continued to uphold that unwavering, painfully honest gaze you were pinning him in. “Nd’ I came all over your t-shirt, Wonwoo. I played with myself until my fingers were cramping and my legs couldn’t stay open anymore.”

He gulped—heavy—like swallowing a chunk of lead. His tender thumb grazed along your cheek and rubbed over your puffy lips. “I wanted to fuck you so bad that night,” Wonwoo soothed your confession with another, which was already quite obvious, “I dreamt about it. I wanted to bury myself so fucking deep inside your gut.”

You shook your head, eyes teary. “Why didn’t you?” He felt the delicate stroking motion along his erection come to a pause.

Wonwoo cradled your cheek. “It would have fucked everything up.”

“But I wanted it,” you whimpered. “I’ve been wanting it for so long and you just left me there. I would have been quiet. You could have put me face down in the pillows and just used me all you wanted.”

“No,” Wonwoo argued, “I would never want to use you. I want us to be together in everything. I know you wanted it. But lust makes you think different. Just like it’s making you think different right now.”

He softly slotted his mouth with yours, exchanging a much slower, sweeter kiss that lit a glow in his belly. You puddled right into the contact, curling your arms back around his neck to hold him tighter.

Much lighter kisses dappled the edges of your lips.

Wonwoo could feel you start to smile.

“I figured something was off the next morning,” he said.

You chuckled, “I didn’t know how to face with you without thinking about it. I felt so dirty. But in the moment, I needed something.”

He nipped down your slender neck, letting his hot breath and reverberating, husky tone tickle your skin until your hairs stood up.

“How wet were you?” Wonwoo purred, smirking.

Immediately, your hips were pushing down on him. “Soaked,” you then whispered, “I was making such a mess. I tried so hard to be quiet. But part of me wanted you to hear.”

Wonwoo’s hands drifted up your t-shirt, gliding slow against your stomach, coming to reach the plump, sensitive breasts that he could only surmise were waiting for his attention. He cupped them in each palm, giving a tender squeeze and pull that pitched your breath into a squeak. Caressing your neck with more wet, open-mouthed kisses, he felt the absentminded grinding reignite the friction between you.

“Did you touch up here, too?”

His thumbs brushed your pert nipples. He felt you shiver.

“Y-Yes.”

Tsking his teeth, he pleasured them with slow, rubbing circles that you mewled in response to. “You’ve got the softest skin. I could touch you until I die, and it still wouldn't be enough.”

“Mmhm,” he heard you exhale shakily, “I touch myself at home, too. Put my pillow between my legs. Pretend I’m grinding against you. Then let my fingers take me again and again until it hurts.”

How dare you fucking say that to him—how dare you put such an intimate visual in his mind to haunt him like a ghost to hallowed grounds. How many times had you done it? How many times had you stood right in front of him, smiling so innocently, despite knowing damn well what you had done to yourself the night before.

Wonwoo pinched your nipples, watching you flinch.

“Does it hurt right now?”

You nodded.

“Where?” He lowered his voice, sinking his hand back down the creases in your tummy until it paused right on your mound, his eyes trained to your suddenly very desperate, misty look. “Down here?”

“Yes.”

Holding eye contact with you, Wonwoo trailed his hand further along your panties until his touch was situated right between your thighs, directly feeling the wet fabric, the radiating heat, the aroused pulsations. Your fingernails were pricks in his shoulders.

“Fuck, you are drenched, aren’t you?” Wonwoo commented, rubbing his hand against you through the cotton material, your hips soon chasing the overwhelming pleasure. “Can feel you throbbing against my hand, you know that? Bet it aches so fucking good, hm?”

He grinned hard at your eyebrows knitting together. While he massaged you with one hand, the other gripped your chin where he pushed a hot, uncoordinated kiss onto your whiny mouth.

“Lay across my lap,” Wonwoo whispered in between the hasty break for air, “let me play with you instead, make you cum. Please.”

To his delight, your compliance came easily.

It didn’t take long for you to splay yourself in the desired position, with Wonwoo pushing up the shirt to bunch at your waist while your bottom was perfectly presented in his lap. He massaged you, leaning down to mark a trail of kisses along your lower back, along your ass—spreading you wide to see the large, soaked patch glistening on those easily rippable underwear.

“Just open your thighs a bit more,” Wonwoo instructed, to which you quickly listened, “fuck—perfect—all this, only for me.” He pushed his thumb against you through the panties and you instantly squeaked.

“Right?” He urged. “Is this all just for me?”

“Mmhm—yes, yes. I fucking promise. Just for you.”

Wonwoo bit his lip to stop the size of the immediate smile from breaking across his face. Your hips wriggled up as his touch drifted away.

“I need more,” you groaned in frustration, “please.”

“More here?” Wonwoo pulled back on one side of your glute to help reveal the sensitive area, then rubbing his thumb against your clit.

Your entire body jerked, and he noticed your fingers dig into the bedsheets, clawing them up. He figured the wet friction between his thumb and your panties was frustratingly amplifying every little sensation in a dull but very cruel way. He continued his ministrations, adding some more pressure for you to squirm and moan at.

“Does it still hurt?” Wonwoo asked, letting his other hand slide up your bare waist, the skin beginning to sweat and turn even warmer.

“Please,” you groaned, attempting to adjust your hips against the stroking from his thumb, “I feel like m’gonna fucking die, Wonwoo.”

“Still need more, then?”

“Yes!”

Deciding to throw you a bone, Wonwoo grabbed those thin, pink panties in his hand and helped you slide the constricting fabric down and off your legs. Once he spread you nice and wide, let the cold air ghost the slicken, swollen skin, you had gasped. For a moment, Wonwoo didn’t speak—he only stared at you with all the stars in the universe collecting behind his eyes, glittering like a snow globe—at how beautiful and exposed and needy you looked.

He let his fingers slide ever so slowly along your clit, drawing up to your hole, then pushing back down to hear you whimper brokenly.

Wonwoo swallowed the dryness in his throat.

“Do you have any fucking idea how beautiful you are?” He complimented, his fingers soaking in your arousal. “I knew your cunt would look pretty, but this is more than that. God…” experimentally, Wonwoo shifted a finger gentle into your opening, giving the digit a wriggle and few shallow pumps. Immediately your intense warmth clenched down tight before loosening, engendering him to effortlessly press in two more long fingers. “There you go… good girl…” he mumbled his encouragement as you gripped the bedsheets and moaned a guttural sound, “taking in my fingers so fucking well—they slide in so easy… make such perfect, dirty noises whenever they fill up this gorgeous cunt.”

His thumb touched at your clit, lending it some attention that had you twisting and bucking back to receive even more pleasure.

“God, Wonwoo…” you gasped, sounding lost to the ecstasy while letting him take his time with mapping out your inner walls with curious strokes, “that feels so fucking good. You have no idea. Feels like m’gonna pour all over you.”

He grinned, further stimulating your swollen clit, maintaining the pattern as you propped up on your elbows, tugged at the bedspread, and released a mellifluous, shuddering moan from your throat.

“F-fuck ye-yess…” you whined as his fingers squelched deeper and his thumb continued its circles, “yes, yes, yes, keep doing that—oh-oh, fuck! M’gonna cum all over your fingers—m’gonna make a mess!”

“That’s all I want,” he breathed, his chest tightening at how much arousal was pooling sticky around his digits, “that’s all I’ve ever fucking wanted—make a mess all over me, like the pretty, desperate girl you are. Let me see it. Let me feel everything. Cum just for me.”

Your entire body proceeded to seize, Wonwoo’s fingers now struggling to pump, as this striking wave seemingly coursed through you and resulted in heavy fluids wetting his dress pants. It took a moment for you to power through the pleasure, though Wonwoo was at least able to maintain his stroking gestures against your clit until he noted the sharp, almost spastic twitches in your muscles.

“That’s a good girl,” Wonwoo hummed in satisfaction while he gingerly eased his fingers out and left your poor, throbbing bud alone.

He smoothed his hand down your back, offering you a moment to relax, breathe, and ride out the electricity.

“Fuck,” you wiped at the sweat on the back of your neck, chuckling at the discomfort, “I can feel it all between my legs.”

Wonwoo smirked. Hard. He bent forward to peck your temple, then brushed his lips against your stinging hot ear. "How about I clean that all up for you?" The velvety whisper caused your body to jitter.

"Clean me up how?" You turned your head, catching his eye.

There was a swap of positions. Wonwoo lowered himself to the bedroom floor, the carpet spongey against his knees, while you lay down on your back and draped your legs off the edge of the bed. But he was hungry for you, and greedier than a treasure hunter, and you went limp as he hitched your knees over his broad shoulders.

Being face to face with your intimate heat was like the kiss of life—new energy was taking over him—giving him desire unlike any other.

He didn't know if he wanted to keep staring at you, your soft skin messy with slick and twitching anticipatorly at his closeness, or if he should stop prolonging the moment and just bury everything into you. Adjusting his glasses, Wonwoo licked his bitten lips. You were in the midst of shuffling up to your elbows, likely wondering what the hell he doing, staring between your thighs for so long.

But as quickly as you squeaked his name, it was interrupted by an intense gasp a second later. You leaned all your weight onto a single elbow, tossing your head back, panting for dear life as Wonwoo striped his tongue long and flat against your heat. His hands gripped your hips, sculpting them over your bone while he tasted your arousal, all sticky and musky and delicious to the point of addiction.

"O-Oh my god, Wonwoo," you cried, letting your body collapse onto the bedsheets, limbs becoming jelly, "that feels fucking amazing."

He licked into you like he were trying to reach the centre of a sweet, colourful jawbreaker. Every pass from his tongue was firm, encompassing, smothering you in pleasure and painting you with spit. But you reacted best when he toyed his ministrations around your sensitive clit—your back would jolt off the bed, arched, as your thighs hugged him tight—Wonwoo heard your begging akin to a distant echo. He would even smile into you, glasses all foggy, chin running in wetness, as you preached his name dumbly, losing your mind. Wonwoo pressed his mouth hot against you, flicking his tongue to your overstimulated clit, focusing hard on his pattern.

"Fuck, fuck!" You shouted, writhing into the sheets. "Please, Wonwoo. Please, please, please—I'm—I'm gonna cum! Please, just—k-keep—"

There was a surge of something warm and liquid that Wonwoo wanted to drink like a peach's nectar. You were throbbing right under his tongue and he loved it to a point that felt utterly insane. He didn't want to stop even if the world was ending. His face plunged in deeper, his hands grafting into your hips harsher, completely ignorant to your fingers pulling at his hectic locks of hair. Wonwoo only wanted you and nothing else and he was going to drown in it.

But you were attempting to sit up, your sweaty body becoming better at escaping his eager, hungry licks that dug into your slit, and once he heard you wince particularly sharp, he knew he had to stop.

He sat back, removing his glasses and wiping off his chin. You slid a leg from his shoulder, using a foot to gently prod against his chest—a light scolding for perhaps enjoying you a little too much.

"Are you starved?" You laughed heavily, gulping down a breath.

Wonwoo fit the glasses back to his face. "For you? Yes." He then licked at his teeth and lips, still yearning to find traces of your arousal, only to realize you were shaking. "Shit—I'm sorry if I hurt you." Standing up, he cupped your face, bending down to kiss you gentle on the lips over and over. "I'm so fucking sorry. You taste amazing, that's all. And you're so beautiful. I couldn't fucking help it."

With a giggle, you tousled his hair. "No, I'm fine. I like a little pain." Your eyes were back to shining. Then, you caught his mouth, stealing another kiss. "But I’m even greedier than you—," pushing yourself up, you nipped at his lips, “—and I want that pretty, long cock inside me to hit all the right spots.” The exchange had you seated back in Wonwoo’s lap, where your bare, soaked pussy was free to brush against his straining and achingly hard length.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo smirked, welcoming your spit-smeared mouth.

Feeling your hips grind against him, you purred, “yeah.”

“I’ve got no protection,” Wonwoo admitted in between the make-out session, hardly able to pry your lips from one another as you slid backward on the bed with Wonwoo climbing over top.

Helping to shove off his dress shirt and slacks, discarding them to the floor, you shook your head. “Don’t need it.”

Returning the gesture, Wonwoo had you fully undressed. The entirety of your bare body on full display felt like something sacred—an artwork that had been crafted with unimaginable attentiveness to every single detail, no matter how miniscule. He couldn't liken it to anything else in his life but a distant memory from childhood—a grand mausoleum that he found himself inside with his older brother, the ceiling intricately chiselled with angelic, satin-like bodies.

Your words seemed distant. It took a second for him to remember.

“Don't need protection? Why?"

As your hands locked behind his neck, pulling him down close, you dug into his eyes with an emotional gaze. “Finish inside me.”

He stuttered, furrowing his brow, “seriously? You won’t—”

“No. I’m taking precautions, you know.” Brushing at his dampened, thick hair, you asked, “have you ever had unprotected sex?”

Wonwoo scoffed, surprised at the inquiry, “yeah. But—is that—you really want that? With me?” He stared down at you intensely.

“I only want it if you want it, too.”

He nodded, biting his lip, taking a moment to examine your perspiring face alongside the the rising and dipping of your chest.

“I want it,” Wonwoo reaffirmed, “I definitely want it.”

Truth be told, a splinter of nerves had lodged into his chest at the thought of having to perform to your anticipation—Wonwoo was never really sure if he would ever get intimate with you—and as his gaze again streamed your body, he felt overwhelmed. But then your fingertips were stroking down his bicep, seemingly drawing out the forthcoming anxiety from him like you were pulling out a thread of energy, and the easygoing smile he was met with tamed his heart.

Wonwoo eased closer toward you, allowing your expert touches to be the guide. Your hand had returned to his length for a few more thorough and especially lentamente tugs, prompting him to hiss into your neck while very flushed shades of pink crawled up his face.

He felt himself throb, wanting to simply collapse against you and climax at your hand for the second time. To make matters even more complicated, Wonwoo felt you shift slightly, and then the tip of his impatient cock was suddenly gliding all slippery like butter along your folds. Wonwoo’s arms started to shake.

You laid your palm gentle against his neck.

“How’s that feel?” You whispered in a trembling breath, meanwhile continuing the heavenly ministrations of tracing your clit with his length. “I-I think it feels quite nice—getting you all wet.”

“Amazing,” he answered, pressing his forehead to yours and pecking at your lips, “you want me to take it from here?”

Keeping silent, your grip drifted from his erection and you seemed satisfied to let the control sway now that Wonwoo was adjusted. Just before he aligned himself, however, he looked at you and laughed.

“Can you push up my glasses real quick?”

You chuckled, “seriously?”

“What’s wrong with wanting to be see you properly?”

“Nothing,” you flashed a tender smile, then using your finger to help position the glasses back up his nose, “there you go.”

Wonwoo proceeded to slide himself inside you at a slower pace that allowed him to bask in the intimate sensation—he made damn sure every little squeeze, flutter, and convulsion your heat cushioned him with was felt—though that made it considerably hard for him not to release in pathetic fashion, before he had even made a good, swift thrust. You were soaking up the moment just as much.

He didn’t want to advert his eyes from the pleasure cascading like ripples across your face for even a second. Once he was buried in still and deep, completely stuffing you to the hilt, your breath had fogged up his glasses.

“Fuck—s-sorry—” you squirmed through the apology, your hips occasionally canting against his in unbridled twitches, “—I can hardly fucking think right now. Do you know how much you’re throbbing?”

He choked out a hoarse laugh, “do you know how insanely good you feel to me? Feels like m’gonna fucking break into a million pieces. ”

“I want you to break me into a million pieces,” you whined so needily, looping your arms around his neck, “fuck me, Wonwoo. Please.”

He was positive you had told him that in a dream once.

As euphoric as you felt clenching around him, Wonwoo truly did want the sex to last. His thrusts into your heat weren’t frantically impatient, rather they grooved incredibly, purposefully deep—each stroke was thoughtful but hard, slow but timely, and judging from your high-pitched keens and the nails scraping against his shoulder blades, he knew you were appreciating the moment just the same.

Wonwoo grasped your sweaty hands in his, your fingers interlocking tight, in order to hold them against the sea of silky pillows above your head. With another especially daggering thrust that made his teeth clench and his abdomen flutter, you had jerked and cried out his name, followed by a breathless, “rr-right there!”

A leg wrapped around his hips, your ankle digging uncomfortably into his side while he continued to push his length into the spot that was making you howl. But it was getting increasingly difficult to continue the tempo—your leg was tightening around him like a boa constrictor and your warmth was clamping down with plain strength, almost as though your body was attempting to lock him inside.

He merely squeezed your hands harder, losing his breath. “You’re almost there, aren’t you?” Taking advantage of another thorough stroke, Wonwoo had the bedframe thudding the wall, his words hotly pressing into your ear. “You’re trying to keep me suctioned in.”

Your whimpers were falling apart like crumbling clay. Wonwoo tried to understand what it was you were mewling at him, something involving his name, how good it felt, that he should keep going, meanwhile tears were springing to your eyes and wetting your glimmery cheeks. Wonwoo bit his lip. He was throbbing wildly inside your heat, knowing you were only getting dumber and turning incoherent as he speared you so intimately on his cock.

Wonwoo wasn’t going to last much longer and neither were you. He was already feeling himself burst and break—the convulsion ripped through him like a landslide and now your leg was fully hooked around his hips, pinning him against you while he emptied himself disgustingly deep inside your warmth.

The sensation must have triggered your own orgasm, because his cock felt like it was practically being suffocated as you squeezed down on him. Wonwoo thought he might blackout when you whined his name into the dim bedroom humidity, strung in a loud, trembling lilt that cracked beautifully in the middle.

Your arms were winding back around his neck, pulling his face to yours, a kiss crushed onto his awaiting mouth.

“I need more,” you panted in between the kisses, “don’t feel full enough yet. Cum inside me again, Wonwoo. Please, take me again.”

“Again?” He smiled, his glasses bumping your nose. You were completely uncaring, only nipping at him harder. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, “I’ve never been surer of anything in my fucking life.” Suddenly, you were wriggling underneath him, rolling onto your stomach, and repositioning yourself such that you were face-down-ass-up. With eyes twinkling bright in pure, carnal lust, you threw him a a yearning glance from over your shoulder. “Fuck me again, nice and deep like before." His heart shot into his throat. When you begged, it was like his world was shrinking into a bubble where only you and him existed. "Please—I need it before your cum starts leaking out. I need to be filled by you, Wonwoo. Please.” You looked like you might cry if he didn't oblige the plead.

And so he did, his fingers planting a firm grip on your strong hips.

As much as you were willing to take, he was willing to give, finding himself submerge further and further into the intoxicating nature of it all until he started to lose his mind—all he knew is that it was concerningly late at night, your bedsheets were sticky and ruined, and you had gone from being thrust into the pillows to slapping yourself down on his cock while Wonwoo hazily watched. He loved the sight of your sweat, your glowing light, your bouncing breasts and pleasure-drunk face far too much. At some point, you had slumped forward into him, spent to fucking hell.

With your chests were pressed together, his cock still throbbing and stuffed inside you, there was a moment of nothing but thick, laboured breathing and heartbeats synchronizing. He kissed your temple and wrapped his arms around you, proceeding to mumble something sweet and half-asleep that contained your name.

You had squeezed his length unforgivingly in response.

“Fuck—don’t get me hard again. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“I like when you use my name.”

He smiled into your cheek. “I can tell.”

Wonwoo had woken before you.

Mostly because the bedsheets had been gradually wrapped up and tugged away and progressively stolen from him during the night, letting the cool, morning air dust over him like spray from an ocean. You were a fidgety sleeper, he had realized, sometimes even a mumbler, although Wonwoo had never been able to discern what it was you were sluggishly declaring in your dreams.

He turned his head to you, saw the bare groove of your back, shapely like a flower petal, and your arm dug underneath the silk pillow, observing every breath your unconscious body took.

Then, Wonwoo was leaning over you, feeling his fingers sink into your fleshy waist while his lips touched a kiss against your warm cheek. He hoped you wouldn’t mind him using your washroom for a shower.

Afterward, Wonwoo retraced the apartment, finding his shoes a questionable distance apart—one stood square at the front door while the other was left in the hallway leading to your room. His winter jacket was tossed over the arm to the couch, meanwhile his phone involved a more in-depth search. For some reason, he’d left it atop a shelf beside the television, hidden by a clumsy stack of textbooks.

When he tapped the screen, it illuminated some text messages from Vernon that had been sent at around two in the morning—mostly inquiries about the birthday dinner and whether or not Wonwoo had bothered going to the famed and mysterious Room 319.

Though, he opted not to respond, realizing the details he wanted to share with his friend would likely require a sit-down discussion over burgers, fries, and sodas at Solar Pop. Making his way back to the bedroom, Wonwoo carefully creaked open the door to find you half-shoved onto an arm, making tired circles against your eye.

He smiled, coming to sit beside you, handing off the glass of water he poured for himself.

“Are you leaving?” Was the first question you blearily pieced together after accepting the water but not drinking anything from it.

Wonwoo shook his head. “No.”

You managed to sit up properly, the sheets settling around your hips while you continued holding onto the glass. For a moment, you seemed to just observe Wonwoo, your eyes still swollen from sleep.

“Where are you going, then?”

He furrowed his brow. “Nowhere,” Wonwoo laughed, pulling one leg up onto the bed. “I got up to shower. Went and found my things. Got a glass of water, which you’re now holding, by the way.”

You swallowed, looking down at your lap.

“Oh…” after a recollecting pause, you took a sip from it.

Wonwoo smiled, his eyes softening like fresh brown sugar, as he proceeded to unstick some matted hairs from the edge of your face.

“You’re a pretty big sheet stealer,” he said, continuing to spread his fingers about your features, removing fluffs and rubbing off bits of dried spit, “and you seem to like talking, even in your sleep.”

“Oh, yeah… I should have told you that.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I liked not knowing.”

“Did you?” With a laugh and smile, you drank some more water.

“Yeah. Because it’s you, it makes me adore it even more.”

“I don’t always mumble. I swear. Only sometimes.”

Wonwoo didn’t care. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I guess I should shower, too. Then I’ll change the sheets and get new ones on.” You abruptly raised the blankets at your lap, lifting up a leg to examine something Wonwoo couldn’t see. “Yeah, I definitely need to change the sheets… oh! And take my pill. Fuck. I can’t forget.”

“I can help with the sheets.”

“Okay,” you said while leaning forward to pull open a drawer on your nightstand, revealing a thin, silver cartridge of pills, “thanks.”

After you had showered and gotten dressed in a clean spare t-shirt, you changed the dirtied sheets to your bed together.

Then you and Wonwoo spent some time together in the open, bright living room, lounging on the couch. Maybe you had kissed a few more times, and maybe his naturally cold hands had found their way underneath your loose t-shirt to curiously massage and press along your pretty chest, and maybe you had kissed a little more after that while the sun rays slid up your sensitive skin.

You twisted away from Wonwoo’s lips with a giggle.

“M’kay, that’s enough, or else I’ll need another shower.” You grabbed at Wonwoo’s hands that had been squeezing your breasts.

Although he didn’t want to stop, he listened, relaxing against the pillow he had stuffed between his spine and the arm of the couch, now throwing an elbow behind his head. You were leaning back against him, getting comfy between his legs, and for a few minutes or so, the two of you gazed out those large, floor-length glass windows into the awakening, snow-capped city.

He felt you stir against him.

“You know… sometimes you don’t always speak English.”

Wonwoo itched his eyebrow, chuckling, “what?”

“Last night, like, when I was riding you—” your head tilted back onto his shoulder, beaming him a smile, “—you would start switching languages. In between English and Korean. It was so cute.”

“Oh, yeah.” He adjusted his glasses, staring down at you while his cheeks became rosy. “I don’t know, it’s just something my brain does automatically. I don’t always realize I’m doing it.”

You grinned; eyes sparkling. “When it feels too good?”

Ruffling a hand through his hair, he simply smirked at you.

“Having a front seat view to the most beautiful girl in the world riding me just happens to be something that makes me feel really good.”

You pushed your head up to kiss him, followed by a sweet and brief whisper that he smiled at, “compliment appreciated.”

A few more quiet minutes passed. Wonwoo thought he could spend the entire day just sitting on the couch with you warm in his arms, watching the snow tumble down like wisps of tender willows.

“Wonwoo?”

“Mm?”

You got quiet.

Then, your weight against his chest was gone, and you had half-turned yourself around to look at him, seeming nervous.

He tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answered, glancing down briefly before soaking him back into your agleam eyes. “I just want to apologize, actually.”

At that, Wonwoo stiffened. “Yeah? What for?”

With a sigh and another anxious moment to fiddle with the rolled-up cuff belonging to his wrinkled dress shirt, you were reserved.

“Ever since we fought, I can't help thinking about it. I mean, I’ve thought about what you said, and the fact you apologized, and explained yourself, and how you gave me time to process it all. You gave me so much grace, even when I felt like I hated you… but… I also said some hurtful things about you… I mean, back then I felt like you deserved it. And, I don’t know… maybe you did? Like, maybe we both needed to just be there, screaming at each other, digging our guts out, throwing up all this stuff to the surface because no one else has ever given us that freedom or made us feel like we could before. Anyway, I just feel like it’s only right that I say sorry, too.”

Scratching at his neck, Wonwoo swallowed. He never thought of it like that. “Uh, sure. If that’s what you feel you need to do. ”

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo. I really, truly am.”

He smiled, grasping at your hand and threading his fingers with yours. Pangs of regret were flooding your eyes, filling them up until they were undoubtedly teary and Wonwoo had to wipe it all away.

“It’s fine, I swear,” he whispered, moving in closer to you, brushing at your cheek as you sniffled. “Nothing has ever truly changed how I feel about you. You’re incredibly firm but sensitive, and have such fiery passion, and you’re curious about everything, and I know that it hurts so much to live without really knowing yourself. But I see you, and I feel like I know you. I never want to stop knowing you, alright?”

“Wonwoo?”

“Yeah?”

Your mouth pressed against his, and he tasted the salt from the tears that beaded down the slopes of your cheeks, warm with life.

“I love you.” He felt the whisper touch at his lips. “I really do.”

Wonwoo held onto your face like he was cradling a big pearl. “I love you, too.” Another kiss sealed the expression into felt, tangible emotion. “But honestly, you already knew that.”

Later in the day, you came up to Wonwoo as he ate lunch at the table, only after having disappeared into a distant office space further down the hallway. You dropped before him a clear, plastic duotang, which held a notably thick stack of papers that had quite a weight to it upon picking up. It only took a few flips into the papers for Wonwoo to realize that it was the completed book he used to proofread for you—a series of chronological memories between yourself and the boyfriend you had gradually drifted apart from.

True to your word, you had forged ahead and finished the book alone.

He was proud to hold the evidence.

Wonwoo asked what you planned to do with the book now that it was done. He even wondered if you might let him read some parts he never got to work on, though he understood if you preferred to keep the contents private. As he was in the middle of lifting a hot spoon to his mouth, Wonwoo suddenly paused at hearing your response.

“I think I’ll just shred it.”

You didn’t seem to care.

The decision came easier than pressing a button. There was only one copy of the book, apparently, and you had plans to turn all its pages into literary confetti. But that was a very you thing to do, Wonwoo had come to accept. Writing served many purposes, and it seemed that the purpose you had sought out was met. Somewhere, in all those paragraphs, sentences, letters, and ink, you found the fulfillment you had always ached for. At last, you struck a glimmer of promising gold after digging through all the haze and confusion.

“Sure,” he answered, “shred away.”

—8 MONTHS LATER. END OF JUNE.

“It looks so pathetic!”

“What?! No it doesn’t!”

Peeking up from the mason jar of earthy blue water he’d been swirling together using some dirtied paintbrushes, Wonwoo saw you seated across from him, talking to a very dismayed, upset twelve-year-old girl. Sierra’s little sister, Cora, had enrolled in his landlord’s ceramics class over the summer, and thus every Saturday evening she spent her time moulding unwilling chunks of grey clay alongside other similarly aged students. It was only Cora in the shop since she had been the last to get her teapot in the kiln, taking extra time with every minute detail.

Though, despite her care and attentive pace, Cora was still not pleased with the teapot, leading her to grumble and shake her head.

You were sitting beside her, a hand rubbing along the little girl’s back while she continued scrutinizing her creation. Ever since you moved into Wonwoo’s apartment back in May, Saskia had quite liked you more than her average tenant, and that somehow transformed into an offer to help her teach the summer ceramics class (with pay).

Wonwoo was always there to assist in the clean-up afterward—his favourite part was submerging all the greasy, bristly paintbrushes into a clean jar of water so that he could watch how their colours bled out in thin, swirling hues.

“No, no, no—it’s just bad.”

“I’m telling you. It’s not.”

Cora picked up the lid to the pot, then placed it back down. “There—look—it doesn’t even close properly. And the spout is not spouty enough… it’s too thick, I think. Hardly any tea will go through!”

“Well, I really like it.”

Tucking a tuft of poofy, rust-brown hair behind her ear, Cora gave you a suspecting and funny sort of look that made Wonwoo smile to himself. She was a very shy student, but she talked to you the most.

“You say that about everything I make,” Cora sighed.

“So what?”

“So…” she nibbled on her small lip, looking off to the side, “you have to say that, because you're nice. You’re like my mom. She says she loves everything I make. But then why don’t I ever love it?”

“She loves it because you made it, obviously. And she loves you. I think love changes how we look at things. Even the impractical.” Then, you picked up her teapot and moved it closer. “You know why I like this teapot? Because it shows you’re determined. I mean, look at all those bowls on the newspaper over there—you’re the only one who did the teapot! And you did it mostly by yourself. You wouldn’t even let me help you roll out the clay. So, that’s why I like it. Because I see you in it. And when you tackle it again, you’ll know what to do differently. Plus, you know you can ask me for help, right? You know I’ll always help you.”

The little girl’s freckled face suddenly became less twisted with judgement and frustration. She set her elbows onto the table, scratching at a Hello Kitty bandaid along the back of her hand, while you gave her hair a quick ruffle. Wonwoo started drying off the paintbrushes using paper towel before moving them into the cup labelled “clean” with a piece of tape.

“What should I do with this, then? If it won’t work,” Cora asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But for now, just leave it with the other stuff. We’ll give it a nice glaze next time around. Make it even prettier. Then you can decide what to do with it—whether or not you want to keep it or smash it on the ground. It’s up to you, Cora.”

Wonwoo tilted his head. “Why don’t you turn it into a miniature flower pot or something? Fill it with soil and plant something in it?”

Cora raised her eyebrows. “I like that idea, actually.”

“Me too,” you said, shooting Wonwoo a sly wink that he smiled very stupidly at, “look at this guy over here. Lurking with his good ideas.”

By the time Sierra was available to pick up her sister, Wonwoo had officially finished cleaning all the paintbrushes and whittling tools, as well as replacing the tablecloth with a fresh one. The three of you stood at the base to the shop’s very small stoop, exchanging some general conversation while a sleepy Cora held onto her sister’s hand and leaned her seemingly heavy head against her side.

The sky was a tame yellow shade, not as bright as a buttercup, but something delicate of the like.

“Hey—I heard you guys are planning a vacation!” Sierra chirped, adjusting the car keys in her hand, “is that all true?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, flashing Wonwoo a soft smile, “uh, we decided that we’re gonna spend some time in South Korea. I haven’t visited his family at all. But, yeah. Gonna leave start of August and come back right before October. So, a pretty good chunk of time.”

“No way!” She exclaimed.

“We’ll see how it pans out,” Wonwoo commented, sliding his arm around your waist and digging his fingers into your hip. “But my brother won’t shut his mouth about meeting her. And my parents are obviously curious. Besides, there are some great places I want to show off.”

Sierra shook her head. “I’m jealous. And totally sure you guys will have a great experience together. We’ll miss you here, though.”

“Please do,” you laughed, and Sierra pinched your cheek.

She then looked down at her sister, who had her eyes shut.

“Okay, I’m gonna get this little dove home. Thank you so much for helping her at ceramics by the way. She talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” You touched at your face, seeming flustered. “Well, I love helping her out. She’s a sweet girl with a lot of will on her shoulders.” Lowering your voice, you moved in closer to Sierra. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled for a cute gift she can have while we’re gone.”

After parting ways with Sierra and Cora, you and Wonwoo returned upstairs, back into the apartment to prepare for supper.

Both of you were feeling particularly lazy, and the shiny red tomato he was supposed to chop ended up being ignored in place of eating ice cream straight from its tub.

You were the one who grabbed it—Wonwoo was only following suit as he picked up a spoon and curved some out.

Something else interesting about you that Wonwoo had learned since moving in together was that you didn’t really care to ever sit on a chair, even when you were eating. It was either the sofa, the floor, or the kitchen table, in which you would be holding onto your food even though he always thought how easier it could be if you did sit down properly. The quirk was fun, nonetheless, and Wonwoo had admittedly started looking at the kitchen table in a different light after he proceeded to give you oral on it one night. Consequently, it bloomed a very dangerous habit between the two of you.

A habit that might become drastically less accessible once you two jetted off to his native country for over a month, confined between his parent’s cozy home where he grew up and the two-story apartment his wealthy brother and sister-in-law owned in the glittering heart of South Korea’s Seoul. He was nervous. You were nervous. But at least you were together.

Over the months, your parents had gradually come to accept him as your boyfriend, even if they weren't exactly warmed up to the idea at the start. Wonwoo revisited your home a few times alongside you to help in the explanations of your story and future prospects, although he partially understood that Mingyu was like a precious sapphire to your family and having him out so suddenly was hard to stomach.

He spent years nestling himself a comfortable burrow and smoothing out the bumps to make a crafty façade that, particularly your mother, couldn't help but outwardly adore. Like a son. Like Seokmin, too.

Wonwoo thought Mingyu might give him trouble.

In truth, he'd scarcely seen him, unless transient glimpses of his towering, quickly bustling figure from across a university campus or city street were noteworthy. Obviously, he wasn't inside Mingyu's head and he really had no inclination as to what the boy might be thinking on the occasion he spotted you and Wonwoo hand-in-hand at the park, or sharing breakfast at the café along Sunnyside.

But if Mingyu maintained even half the feelings that Wonwoo did for you, then he was positive it hurt like fucking hell.

Of all people, Wonwoo supposed he himself knew best.

—AUGUST 1ST.

“Wonwoo!”

He closed his dresser drawer, almost slamming his fingers inside. Your voice echoed from the living room, sounding hectic.

“Yes? What’s up!”

“The taxi’s here!”

Fuck. He immediately thought. The time was flying by.

Wonwoo had made a gigantic list of what to pack, but over time he kept adding and taking things away from it. Now, it was early morning, soft rain and cracks of bursting light coming down outside, and he was doing a final clean-sweep of the bedroom as well as his poorly scribbled list to ensure everything he needed was with him.

Quickly approaching the window, Wonwoo glanced outside to see the cab parked at the curb. Fuck. Again. Vernon always said he would happily provide you two a ride to the airport, but then the boy was unsurprisingly wrapped back into some trouble, and Wonwoo hadn’t seen his best friend in over a week.

Graciously, however, Vernon had given him a heads up and a proper goodbye beforehand. He’d even left him a voicemail to listen to, which immediately jumped into Wonwoo’s brain at random as he scrambled around the bedroom in search of his phone.

“Just give me one more minute!” Wonwoo shouted.

There was a pause on your end, and then a sigh.

“Do you need help?”

“No—all good. I promise. Can you let the cab driver know?”

“I will.”

“Thank you!” Wonwoo sang, finding the phone blended into his bedsheets, then proceeding to open his inbox. “I love you!”

“I love you, too!” You shouted back. “Just hurry the fuck up!”

He let Vernon’s message play while also tossing his suitcase onto the bed, stuffing in a few more last-minute grabs with utter clumsiness.

“Heyyy, Glasses! How are things? I’m shooting you this cute little message at arounddd—oh! Looks like it’s two in the mornin’! It’s two in the fuckin’ mornin’ and I’m pulled up outside this dude’s house all ‘cause he can’t pay me back for my good, hard services. It’s nothin’ serious, though. Don’t get all uptight like usual. You know I’m good at handlin’ stuff and keepin’ my cool. Probably my better qualities. Anyway, I’m bored as fuck. I’ve spun this Lloyd CD about four times and I just can’t listen to that dude anymore. He can sing, though.

I am pissed you’re leavin’ me. And I’m pissed she’s leavin’ me, too. You guys are what I look forward to whenever I drive down into that shithole city. Well, I think just about every city’s a shithole city. In fact, the city I’m in now is probably more of a shithole… Seokmin texted me the other day—said he wants to talk—which is vague as fuck and to be honest, I’ve been ignorin’ it ‘cause I can’t get myself to give a god damn. But maybe I’ll hear him out. That guy was a cutie, wasn’t he? I still think you’re a bit cuter. And better at mini-put.

I’ll miss you a lot when you’re down there… it got me thinkin’ about the night when we first met. The New Year’s Eve party. You remember that pretty well, don’t’chya? I saw you come in with those guys—they didn’t look like your crowd at all—but then after a while you were alone. Wanderin’ around. It didn’t even seem like you knew anyone else was there. You had the blankest look on your face. Like you were stuck in a loop and you didn’t even know it. I don’t know that I felt pity or anything… hell, maybe I felt a little. I just talked to ‘ya ‘cause I wanted to know if you knew where you even were.

You knew you were at some stupid, loud, awful fuckin’ house party jammed with unfamiliar faces. You knew how much you hated bein’ there. But I don’t think you actually knew how you got there, or why, or what was supposed to happen next. It kinda drew me to you. I wanted to understand it. And you gave me the weirdest look, too, when I stopped you. But once I got you outside, away from all the bullshit, you loosened up just a bit and I realized I was talkin’ to this smart, well-rounded, thoughtful guy who was just a little lost in the weeds.

I know you didn’t really care about me like that. I was just some jumped-up weirdo who could give you mint weed at a sweet price. But I still liked you… I dunno… other people see you differently when they care a whole lot, don’t they? I guess they see things about you that others can’t, or they know exactly what you could be when others don’t. They see stuff even you can’t see. It’s like a superpower, I think… my best superpower is probably makin’ girls giggle. I’ve got a lot of charm, wouldn’t you agree? Ha—anyway—stay safe on your trip, tell Her that I’ll miss her a lot, too—oh! Oh!

Fuck! That’s it. That little fucker is comin’ outside—he can’t resist his two am darts on the porch. God bless you, nicotine! Okay, uh, guess this is me hangin’ up on you. Later, Wonwoo!”

At that point, everything Wonwoo needed was packed. But he’d taken the additional time to complete Vernon’s voicemail, now sitting on the edge of his bed while staring out into the early, glimmering rain shower and the water droplets collecting against his window.

Then, Wonwoo glanced down at the laptop he had open.

He hadn’t written in… months. Not even months—it had been over a year since Wonwoo wrote. And, somehow, it felt good not to write.

It felt necessary to step away from the craft.

Besides, writing would always be there. Just because he hadn’t filled up a document on his computer with harmoniously arranged words, or penned anything down in the journal he used to scribble poetry in, that didn’t make him not a writer. In fact, it could be crucial to know when to step away from something—when to let go of an invisible weight keeping one from progressing. While he hadn’t thought about it in months, it floated to the surface of his mind that there may be something he should let go.

The unfinished book. 01.

Wonwoo deleted it. Simple as that.

Shoving the laptop into his shoulder-sling bag, Wonwoo made sure to knab his journal from the nightstand before he left, just in case anything did excite him with a crack of inspiration as he embarked on his newest chapter with you at his side. Rolling his suitcase hurriedly behind him, Wonwoo rushed out onto the street, feeling the rain graze his hair and skin, while you were leaned against the cab, arms folded and teeth anxiously raking over your bottom lip.

He peppered the cab driver in apologies while he helped shove the suitcase into the trunk.

“Liar—” you grumbled after sliding into the cab, undoing the buttons on your coat, “—you said one minute, not one lifetime.”

“I know, I know,” Wonwoo laughed, removing his glasses to rub off the mist and dew, “but that voice mail from Vernon distracted me.”

“Let me do it,” you said, taking his glasses with a sigh, “we should be fine. I know we’ll make it on time… I guess I’m just on edge.”

He watched you massage at the lenses gently with a sleeve. The driver climbed back into the cab, now pulling away from the pottery shop and driving toward the beam of light that sliced through the dense clouds, like the sun was handling a giant blade.

“Everything’s gonna work out, I promise… and I already told you that we’ll be staying with Bohyuk first, right? Him and Nari?”

Handing the glasses back to Wonwoo, you nodded.

“Yeah… god—I hope he likes me.”

“Oh, he will. You guys are pretty similar, actually.”

The look you gave him warbled slightly.

“What if that’s a bad thing? Every time you tell me a story about your brother, it usually involves you loathing him for something.”

“Those stories took place years ago.”

“But the feelings are still there, aren’t they?”

Wonwoo settled his hand over top yours, giving your fingers a soothing squeeze. He knew you wanted to make the perfect first impression. After all, first impressions were not something that could be easily taken back or erased, unless the people you were meeting were quite forgiving. And Bohyuk was fortunately the forgiving type.

It was only time that Wonwoo exercise the quality as well.

Leaning in close to your face, Wonwoo gazed into your eyes, watching their frantic nature become still like the surface of a calm pond.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, alright?” He murmured.

Huffing out an intense, long breath, you nodded.

“Alright… can I have a kiss, please?”

Lifting his hand to graze against the side of your cheek, he paused to admire your beauty for a moment, only to properly cup your face and push his lips to yours—which tasted sweet and balmy—before feeling you push back firm. He proceeded to give you another soft kiss for good measure, one that cured you to smile all fluttery and coy against his mouth until he was inevitably smiling, too.

In fact, Wonwoo only ever found himself smiling that hard when he was with you.

—END.

heyyyy :] ramble incoming...

first and foremost, ABOVE ALL ELSE, i just want to say thank you! i know this was a very, very long fic for me to be uploading on tumblr. this site is not the most fanfic friendly (or creation friendly for that matter) so stomaching the fact that this needed to be split up into so many parts was like a dagger to the heart! for those who decided to buckle up and lock into this journey, i honestly thank you so much <3 life was not always kind in the process of writing this (hence the fact it took me 2 years, plus some extra) but i was so dedicated to seeing this story through! a lot of the frustration i was feeling toward myself was funnelled into wonwoo's character, so this is quite personal :3

nonetheless, i hope there's something, even a single thing, someone else can take away from the story as well! both wonwoo and her as characters introduce their own unique themes--wonwoo (at the core) is more so about learning to let go in order to progress, whereas her is about using creative tools to help guide the search for identity. i think that writing has helped me learn a lot about myself (even uncomfy, icky things) so i wanted that to be represented through her.

of course, these are not the only things they stand for! but these are the elements i based their characters on, to which other concepts sprouted from. i also loved the idea of pairing someone as lost and misguided and emotionally stunted as wonwoo with this girl who seems so bossy and firm. at first he doesn't like it, but that was really what he needed to accept some of the flaws holding him back. idk if you're familiar with the EXCUSE ME! HE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES! meme but that's what comes to mind when i think of them xD

additionally: special shout out to vernon. he became a much bigger part of this story than i originally intended. he is in some ways wonwoo's foil. vernon knows he's flawed but that's sorta his strength and what makes him genuine. he witnesses wonwoo's entire journey, so at times he also feels like our role, the "reader" and gives wonwoo some wisdomy parting words without rly knowing it (but that's part of his charm <3 i don't want vernon's emotional intelligence to be underrated, which is also an ode to the conversation wonu & her have back in the museum. wonwoo knows there are different types of intelligence and emotionally he is lackinggg).

also small s/o to seokmin. SORRY! HAD TO DO IT!

this has been my slowest slowburn! i wasn't sure how late they were going to kiss. but i didn't want to force anything. i wanted to add the moment when i felt it was surely right! also, if you haven't yet listened to the playlist and you're curious, i recommend listening to the very last song, writer, by ellie goulding. i've been listening to that song for many years, and one day it hit me how coincidentally her lyrics overlap with some of the fic's storyline!

i think it adds a nice final touch <3

LASTLY!

upon contemplation, i will be uploading this fic to ao3 in the same chaptered format it's been posted here! i realize the convenience to bookmarking on that site (and it also doesn't give people's phones a heart attack when trying to read something lengthy) so i hope that appeases some of you who wish to reread with more leisure! i'll be under the username @/uglypluto!

i'll upload the final chapter (this chapter) to ao3 probably between late sunday & early monday.

THANK YOU x100! 💕

[oozedninjas]

Your Kinktober prompts are giving me LIFE! I'd love some feral Bay Michelangelo with these prompts -

I'm going to fucking ruin you.

Oh baby, you're drooling everywhere.

You know I could always get you off, right here, right now.

Action up to you! I'm just dying for some Bad Mikey 😈🧡

WARNINGS: NSFW | 18+ | MDNI | Facefucking | oral sex (male receiving) | humping | dirty talking | bad Mikey | Bayverse | female reader | Mikey is 25 and he loves your pretty mouth

Of course, it has to be at a Halloween party, because he loves the attention, and you love clichés. His dazzling smile from across the room eats you up, a confident grin that pours out as much desire as it does charm, with a glint of something dark in his eyes—something you know only you can see.

Mikey thrives on the only night of the year he can come out as a normal guy messing around. People gather around him. He’s funny, and he knows it. And you love that he can’t keep his eyes off you, despite all the other glances directed his way.

You move backward slowly, inviting him with your eyes. Chase me. Chase me. Chase me. He loves that too. You turn, your feet carrying you across the room and out to the balcony. People stare as you climb onto the roof, but no one gives a fuck. God, you love New York.

You’re lifting yourself over the top when he yanks you up. Your back hits the metal door of the rooftop storage room, cold and hard. You gasp, a smile breaking across your face.

"I knew you’d come," you pant. "You love it when I run from you."

Mikey laughs, the sound so sexy that you press your thighs together. "No," he says, gripping your chin, "I love it when I catch you."

He closes the gap between you, seizing your mouth in an urgent, demanding kiss. His thick tongue parts your lips, and you let him in, your own moving to his rhythm. Mikey bites your lip a bit too hard as he pulls away.

“Too bad we have to wait to get home,” you say, as this is usually what he does—works you up so fucking bad you could almost cry, only to reward your patience later. But tonight, something gleams in his gaze.

“Why wait? I could get you off right here, right now,” he says, leaning to whisper in your ear. “Just tell me how bad you want it.”

Your whole body tingles. Your breathing goes from heavy to desperate. “Very. Please…”

He tilts his head, the orange bandana hanging lazily to the side, and a bright spark of excitement lights his eyes. Mikey lets out a small, mischievous laugh. He lifts you up, pulling your dress out of the way. His huge hands grip your ass before he grinds against your drenched slit. You whimper, gripping the top edge of his plastron, digging your nails into the tender skin where it joins his chest. He hisses.

His own slick mixes with yours as he grinds over your clit, applying delicious pressure as he keeps the pace steady and hard. Your mouth hangs open as Mikey pauses just a second to push your underwear aside. The skin-to-skin contact has your head spinning.

“Aw, Angel, you’re drooling everywhere.”

You don’t care. Your body tenses as his grinding quickens, the knot in your belly finally bursting.

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, it feels so good,” you slur, your back arching toward him.

He groans against your neck as his cock breaks free from the lower half of his plastron. Your mouth waters at the sight of it. You meet his gaze, filled with a hunger that matches your own.

“Feed me,” you whisper, half catching your breath.

Mikey curses under his breath and lets you down. Your boots hit the floor, and you stumble forward, hands on his chest just a second before sliding lower.

“Such a pretty whore, always starving for my cock,” he grits out.

You take him into your mouth, working down as much as you can without choking, but he grips your hair while you’re at it, thrusting once to test your limits. You glance up at him daringly. He chokes out a huff, his mouth twisting into a hot smirk.

“Cocky girl. You can take it, huh?” he says, thrusting back into your mouth, harder this time. You squeeze your eyes shut, adjusting to his tip grazing your throat. Fuck, you love it when he’s rough. 

“I’m gonna fuck your face so hard you’ll struggle to swallow it all. I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing to his words. His pace turns cruel, hard, and relentless, and you feel the slick running down your chin. Your eyes water as his grip burns your scalp. Strong mutant hands. He’s so hot. Mikey frowns, mouth open as he comes, teeth gritted, spilling into your throat. You manage to swallow almost every drop. He pulls away, and you gasp for air as soon as you’re able.

You want him to fuck your desperate little cunt so bad it hurts. You want him to be rough, and you’ll plead for it if you have to—you have all night.

[boyfhee]

⋆ OUR THING !

aka the things they do in a relationship!

pairing enhypen x gn reader genre fluff warnings teensy bit suggestive

HEESEUNG

places things on the top shelf deliberately because he just wants the excuse to walk up behind you and get that thing for you in the flirtiest way possible

you're tip-toeing with one of your arms outstretched to grab your favourite coffee mug, it's the cutest sight ever, and he's already behind you with a prideful smirk

"you can just ask me to get it for you, baby,"—he's a little too close to you, and you can feel his breath right on your neck, might as well brush his lips against your nape before muttering a quiet 'oops' as if it was accidental— "no need to trouble yourself," "and who do you think is the reason why i need to trouble myself?"— exactly your response because he put your coffee mug on the highest shelf, and yet he shrugs like he's innocent

he has no shame, he will pin your against the shelf and kiss you if he gets the opportunity ( he makes the opportunity ) simply takes the mug from your hand and puts it on the top shelf again, while his lips are on yours. coffee isn't in your fate

oh and he has also wraps his arms around you from behind when you're cooking, or doing anything, but mostly kitchen work. just something about him resting his head on your shoulder, eyes closed, as he hums a song right next to your ear, with a soft smile, swaying with you slightly to the tune, puts both of you at ease

JAY

he may not say it every time but he loves to see you in his clothes. so, picture him going through his closet and he pulls out one of his hoodies, and he's standing in front of you, putting it in front of you to see how it looks, just like mothers at the clothing stores

"hm, i knew blue was more of your colour"— every colour on the wheel is your colour if jay has it in his cupboard— "there, you can keep it," "love, that's third one this week. what are you going to wear?"— and you're genuinely concerned because half of his sweatshirts and hoodies belong to you, even a few shirts for some reason "we can always buy new ones for me"— terrible spending habits

loves to style your outfits. we know his fashion sense is over the roof so you look like a model every time you step out. actually, his goal is to match outfits with you when you go out, whether it's just a colour or a few accessories. not his fault you end up looking like you could get hired by dolce and gabbana

genuinely can't stop complimenting you. it's always him whispering 'you look beautiful,' and 'you're pretty,' and 'i can't keep my eyes off you,' in your ear with one arm around your shoulder or waist

JAKE

he's so silly and cute and smiley. he helps you with things all the time, not because he doesn't want you to tire yourself ( that is one of the reason ) but because he likes helping you around the house, whether it's with your stuff or just usual chores

also, he keeps looking at you with a smile? you'd be putting clothes in the washing machine and he's looking at you with a huge grin while also helping you. basically, it means he either wants a hug or a kiss or both

"jake-"— is deadass t-posing with a smile while standing behind you as you finish putting the clothes— "what do you want?" "what do you think i want?"— says with the same goofy and cute smile and he knows you won't say know because he's irresistible

sometimes, you'd see him at the other end of the house with same i-want-a-hug pose as soon as you return home from work or classes or whatever. then you run to hug him and pulls you in the warmest hug possible, spinning you to the slightest, kissing your cheeks. and you both just continue to hug for next five minutes

if he's in the mood, he will cup your face before you're about to hug him and pull you into a chaste kiss before hugging you. like, one time he kissed you with you were holding the laundry bucket and jake just took it and discarded it aside before pulling you closer because it was between him and you and he didn't like that. basically hugs are a must, kisses are the cherry on the top

SUNGHOON

so weird, he texts you even when you two are in the same room. you'd be sitting on the same couch, just on the opposite ends, and you can see his text notification pop up on your phone screen. he's texting probably something like 'so close yet so far' madam is a little goofy

and his texts are not normal. it's something completely unrelated, weird, maybe an old picture of himself or just some random pickup line. most of the time, he's trying to flirt with you over text

"hey gorgeous,"— his text reads, and you see a shit eating grin on his face as he sits opposite to you on the couch, typing something on his phone— "do you have a boyfriend?" "no"— you reply, and if you think saying no would do something to put an end to this insanity, you're wrong because he comes back ten times worse you can see him put his phone aside before crawling to your side of the couch, and he's almost pinning you against it— "you don't have a boyfriend?"— says with a smirk, leaning a bit closer to you, or rather your lips— "do you want one?"

look, you don't even get to say anything here because he kisses you before giving you a chance to speak. and it's not some random kiss, he's kissing you, as in taking your phone out of your hand and throwing it away to the other end of the couch, putting your arms around his neck before pulling you closer by your waist

he's kissing you with the intention of making out, which is usually his aim behind texting you from across the room

SUNOO

the ultimate sunoo headcanon i have is that you both do each other's make up. it's mostly him doing yours, says he asked his stylists for tips and he's going to try them on you. it's usually for fun, sometimes he follows a gwrm video on youtube on your request when you tell him that he's doing something wrong ( gets a bit sulky because why are you doubting his skills )

loves to do your eyeliner!!!! like he would hold your face ever so softly, carefully applying the eyeliner, saying something about how it won't be his fault if you end up looking like a ghost or something

"let me help you with the lipstick too,"— he's joking!!! and he's blushing slightly as he says that "alright,"— and now he's red. he's so nervous and flustered, and you know he's trying to laugh it off but then he looks at you again and realises that you're series "um ok,"— his heart is about to pop out of his chest

you can feel how nervous he is in the way he holds your chin, or the really flustered smile that's dancing on his lips, or in the way he backs off and leans at least five times to calm himself down

and if u peck his lips while he's helping you with your lipstick, he will literally pause. like it's so cute how easy it is so make him blush, he's probably smiling as saying how you need to stop teasing him. oh, but also, he loves to kiss your cheeks while doing your makeup

JUNGWON

wakes up at least thirty minutes before the usual time because you two end up cuddling and getting late for whatever plans you have for the day

he's punctual but also knows his mind sort of stops working when it comes to you so the moment he sees you sleeping next to him, all morals about waking up early and on time leave his body, and before he himself knows it, his arms are wrapped around your waist and he's pulling you closer to him

"maybe, we should get up,"— he says, his head still resting on yours, eyes closed, his half asleep already "definitely,"— but when you try to get out of his hold, removing his arms from around you, he just scoots even closer? like what happened to waking up early "five minutes more,"— the third 'five minutes more' so far

even if you two are awake, he will lay in bed with you, holding you close while his one arm is around you and the other is caressing your hair, occasionally kisses your cheeks while asking you about your plans for the day

most of the time you two end up sleeping again, but once he gets out of bed, he's making sure you're out of it too. would take away your blanket to force you out of bed, but it's only because he doesn't want to continue with his day without you

NI-KI

late night walks!!! he loves to spend time with you and loves it even more when you two are taking an early morning or late night with your hands interlaced together, strolling down the streets ( brings the 'it's you and me in this world' lyrics to life for him but you won't hear him say that )

"hey, let's go for a walk"— he's nudging your shoulders and would continue to do so until you wake up "it's one am,"— you think it would help you convince him but no, he doesn't care. odd timings are his things, and he would've had it another way if you didn't always give in to his requests

holds your hand and puts it in the pocket of his jacket because he doesn't want you to get old but it's only an excuse. sometimes just kisses the back of your hand while you're talking to him and asks if that makes your heart flutter. if u say no, he will kiss you randomly between words

going to the convenience store is a must. you're getting your favourite snacks and then you two are going to the swings in the park. late night escapades with him are fun and it's only a matter of time before you both are snuggled up together while sleeping on the couch

[323cutie]

take my soul, take my heart. | cs

pairing ୨୧ san x reader

word count ୨୧ 700

genre ୨୧ suggestive... fluff? lol is sexy a genre... is being horn knee for san a genre...

warnings ୨୧ mentions of sex, reader is implied to be a bit tipsy

author's note ୨୧ i need him and i need to do things to him and i need him to do things to me (blind is my most listened to ateez song)

18+ mdni!

It’s a vibrant night.

The middle of summer is unforgiving, but still kind with the way she gives you warm, comfortable nights. Crickets sing outside in time with the music in the bar, a chorus of youth and heat, a dance of love and excitement. Your eyes glow under the low lights, fitting in perfectly with the weightlessness of your limbs, the bass thrumming in your bones.

You don’t know how long the band has been on stage, but you know the singer has been looking at you their whole set.

He’s pretty. Warm and languid when he looks at you, passion lacing the edges of his voice when he sings. Your friends’ chatter slowly fades away, caught up in the sweetness of your drink and the kind, smouldering eyes of the stranger on stage.

He finds you soon after – at least, you think; he slides into the space beside you at the bar, eager but poised. You turn your full attention to him and he smiles, pretty dimples taking shape. He fits in so easy, warm and humid and bright. “Can I buy you another?” He asks, pointing to your empty glass.

You shake your head, do nothing to hide your gaze as you take him in. “Think I’m done for the night,” you answer. “Will you tell me your name?”

He grins, leans forward until he’s closer to you. One of his arms rests across the back of your chair, and you can’t help the fire that spreads through you when you catch the faint smell of his cologne, woody and floral and masculine. Once he seems to decide he’s close enough to you, his voice is a gentle baritone as he says, “San.”

It’s just his name, but you feel it wash over you like a wave. San’s eyes hold a question that you answer with your own name, and your voice seems to have the same effect on him – somehow, under the constant chatter of the full bar and the familiar beat of a song you’ve never heard, it feels like you’re in your own world with him. Barely touching, a whisper away, surrounded by midsummer heat.

“Do you dance?” He asks. 

You don’t even have to think about your answer. “With you, I do,” you respond. San grins, pretty dimples and all, then holds his hand out to you.

The dance floor is alive, and you and San find a spot in the middle of it all. You don’t usually dance, but you don’t usually get approached by people like San, either – but your footsteps match with his easily. You feel warm, burning, letting him pull you to his chest, then letting you go in a spin full of colors and laughter. The songs blur together until they slow enough for you to gather San in your arms, guiding his hands to your waist.

“Your voice is beautiful,” you tell him. There’s more, but you think he knows. His skin is golden and you want to see it under the moonlight, against your hands, pressed into your sheets. 

San laughs, and you think his ears are pink. “Yeah?” He asks, and you know it’s rhetorical, but you nod along anyways. “I’ll sing for you all night, then, hm?”

You preen, take half a step closer to him like the heat doesn’t matter. San lets you, pulls you to him, breathes you in. You wonder how he’ll sing for you – later, outside, walking you home, sweet like honey? Pressed against your front door, wound up and free, melodies bouncing off the walls of your hallway? Or maybe into your pillows, lyrics breathed into your skin, sucked into bruises on your thighs? 

It won’t take long, you think. The stars glimmer in his eyes but their focus switches to your lips, your neck. You feel like you’re standing outside midday, overwhelmed with something white hot. San’s fingers twitch at your waist like they’re aching and you want nothing more than to ease the pain.

You exhale, push closer, chest to chest. San sighs when your fingers play with the delicate chain around his neck.

“You’ll walk me home?” You ask, though you already know the answer. 

“Of course,” San says, eyes bright. He’s already inching towards the exit, and you follow. “I’ll take you anywhere, honey, just tell me where to go.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you lead him out of the bar, into the hazy street, fingers intertwined like fate. He sings for you here, true to his word, and his voice meshes beautifully with the fire in your heart and the desire both of you share.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet One 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: have a good day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“So, what do you think?” Lloyd asks as he turns to you, outstretching his arms as he gestures to the endless hangers. “All yours. You got your pick.” 

You stand just inside the door of the walk-in closet. The space would take up at least half your apartment alone. You cross your arms as you glance along the rows of coloured fabric hung from the walls, organized in a perfect ombre effect of shades. On the far wall, there are shelves full of shoes and accessories, along with a vanity in the centre. 

“I know you’re a simple gal,” he grins, “but you don’t have to be anymore. Whatever you want, ain’t no mountain high enough and all that.” 

You nod and blow out between your lips. It all still feel surreal like a nightmare. You swallow and tamp down your discomfort. You didn’t hate the life you had. Your small apartment, manageable and tame. You prefer predictability, even if some might say it’s boring. 

“Erm, I dunno,” you slowly trail over to the other side of the closet. 

“Well, you could pick some shoes first. That might inspire you,” he suggests as he approaches you, “you don’t need to be too fancy, you know, you always look nice.” 

“Mm,” you nod,” thanks that’s...” 

You let the sentence hang. This is really freaking you out. Your chest feels tight and your head is buzzing. You shudder out a breath. 

“What... what am I choosing for?” You croak. 

“I told you, jellybean,” he puts his arm around you and pulls you against his side, “it’s a surprise.”  

He reaches to grab a hanger and holds it out at arm’s length. A blush-coloured satin dress with a bit of frill at the bottom of the skirt. It’s nothing you would choose yourself. 

“Sure, that’s nice,” you say, just to appease him. What else can you do? 

“Hm,” he hums, “you don’t like it?” 

“I didn’t say...” 

“You don’t sound very excited,” he pouts as he turns to you, his hand lingering on your hip, “none of it? I got it all for you.” 

“I’ll wear it,” you sniff, “I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m... adjusting.” 

You don’t know how else to explain it.  

He pushes his lower lip out and narrows his eyes, “sure, sure, makes sense.” He drags his hand off your hip and steps back, keeping the dress up as he angles it before you, as if he’s imagining you in it. “This is gonna look so hot, baby.” 

You do your best to stay placid. It’s harder as you heart pounds furiously. You can’t even begin to guess what he has planned but with everything he’s done and said, you know exactly what his intent is.  

“You should get washed up, huh? Then get dolled up. Like I said, won’t need much of that,” he winks, “you could walk in ass-naked and I’m sure you’d stun.” 

You can’t help how your mouth slants at his remark. 

“Alright, jellybean, let’s get you in the tub,” he lays the dress over the velvet bench and spins back, startling you as he grabs both hips and jerks you towards him with a growl, “can I watch? I promise, I’ll try not to touch. Yet.” 

You clasp onto his wrists with a yelp. He curls his lips eagerly and you repress your horror. You don’t want to antagonise. You don’t want him to get any worse than he is. 

“Um, did you want... to?” You murmur. 

“Fucking of course,” he urges you against him, “the things I want to do...” he smirks, “I’m quaking in my boots.” 

He bows to smother you with a kiss. His mustache pokes at your uper lip and up your nose as he hums and slides his tongue across your lips. You squeeze your mouth tightly shut but he pokes through, nearly choking you as he invades. You press your hands to his chest as he locks you into his embrace. 

Finally, he part and you gasp for breath. He snickers as you puff against him. Your skin is crawling as you wriggle in his hold. 

“Yum,” he purrs. 

He lets his arms fall away and quickly snags your hand. You let him drag you around to the door, your feet hollow as they move without a thought. Resistance is plainly not a choice. 

He takes you back into the adjoining bedroom, the one you awoke in, and through another door way against the perpendicular wall. He steps to the side as he tugs you forward and releases you. Your take in the sleek black walls and black tub, the silver shower head in a monochrome booth, and the ebon marble veined with sparkling white. 

“I get it, it’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” he boasts, “this is our home, sweet cheeks. Remember that. You treat it like your very own... it is. Just like me, all yours.” 

You pad slowly inside, if only to keep a distance from your captor. You won’t forget what he is. He can give you all the luxurious things but you remember the days of starvation, of terror. He can’t see himself for what he is but you do. 

“Face masks, body scrub, bath bomb, shower gel, bonnet, robe,” he points at the fluffy purple robe still around you, “slippers,” he flicks his finger towards the mat beside the door, “lotions, creams, everything you can dream of. Oh damn, I can call a nail tech if you want a fresh mani--” 

“Uh, no thanks,” ball up your fists, hiding your short-trimmed nails, “that’s not... that’s okay.” 

“Only the best for you, kitty cat,” he says. 

He strides forward and you flinch out of his way. He goes to the tub and cranks it on, water splashing out from the high faucet. He flips the silver lever to put the stopper in place and backs up. 

“Voila, all for you,” he declares, “I’ll just...” he looks around and backs up to sit on the fluffy cushioned stools near the wall, “sit and watch. If you need help getting your back, I got you.” 

He wiggles his fingers and gives a lecherous grin. You withhold a shudder and face the basin, the water battering the bottom. You step forward and peer down into the shallows. You clutch the front of the robe and peek over in his direction but not at him. 

He waits, silently. You sway, squeezing the fluffy fabric as you peer back at the water. You don’t know if you can do it. Not with him right there. 

“Whatsa matter, baby, you need help?” He shifts and you jolt.  

“N-no, I just...” you look down at yourself and frown. 

“Ah, you’re shy. I totally get it,” he coos, “you don’t gotta be though. Your beautiful, so you should be proud. Show it off, honey.” He clucks and shakes his head, “you know that’s the thing these days, all you girls, you’re so insecure, but you trust me, sweet lips, you got nothing to be insecure about.” 

Your stomach flips. You feel hazy. You try to shrug it off and drop your hands to the belt of the rob. You untie it. You’re really going to do this. Why? 

Because you’re afraid? Weak? Yep. 

You shed the rob and look around. You hang it on the hook behind the door and return to the tub. It’s getting deeper and deeper. You touch the bottom of your shirt and scrunch it up in your fists. Just do it quickly and get in. He can only see so much from over there. 

You pull your shirt off, nothing underneath. You push your pants down quickly, your underwear rolling down inside. The skin feels cooler then and tingles across your naked skin as you latch onto the tub and swing yourself over the edge. You barely get a foot under you before you submerge your body in the water. 

You sit up, legs bent, stiff on the porcelain as the water continues to rise. It’s not quite at your chest yet. If you let it fill all the way, it might touch your chin. As you watch the depth climb, you don’t notice him until he closes. You slide to the back of the tub as Lloyd cranks off the faucet. 

You notice how his eyes stray to you. Your legs stay bent in front of you, blocking most of everything. You shrink down, hunching your shoulders as he searches through the ripples. He tilts his head and cracks his neck as he exhales and backs away. 

“Take your time, baby,” he purrs as he rubs his chest. 

He sits again and you lower your head. You’ve never been this bare in front of anyone, rarely even yourself. You’re just not comfortable without some short of shield around you. Your eyes tinge with the threat of tears. You feel like you’ve been hit across the face. This is real. Really real. 

Your eyes flick up and you reach for the purple scrubby on the little black shelf. You just have to get through it. That’s what you’ve always done. 

👄

You stare into the open case. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of make-up. When you were a teen, you had a phase, and you’ve been to enough job interviews to wield a mascara wand. Still, the amount seems excess. 

There’s almost every sort of product in every shade. Some sort of tap you don’t know what to do with, highlighter, and finishing spray. It’s too much. Your look is either a bare face or nothing at all. More often the former. 

You fidget with a tube of lipstick, clicking the lid up and down. This is all so strange. What are you getting ready for? And why? This isn’t your home, this isn’t your life, and yet it’s all so perfectly planned. 

“Honey bunnnnnn,” Lloyd’s timbre has you dropping the stick. He strides in, flustered, holding up two ties. He’s half dressed. A pair of red velvet pants and amber satin button up. It’s not a look you would go for. “What do ya think? Which tie? Paisley or the stripes?” 

You shrug and shake your head. 

He clicks his tongue, “genius, baby, genius. No tie. You’re right. Just the jacket.” 

Your mouth falls open and you nod, “sure, yeah.” 

You look back at the vanity and huff. Your face is untouched. You sit in your robe in the walk-in closet, mulling over your misery. Self-pity is as inescapable as these walls. 

“What’s up, cheeks?” He asks, “you need some help? I’m thinking you could give a bit more colour to lips but keep the rest very subtle.” 

He crosses the floor and hovers behind you. You stir around in the case and take out two bottles of foundation. You’ve never really used that either but the shades are pretty close. He lays the ties down on the vanity, brushing your back as he does, and pulls back to grip your shoulders. 

“I tried to guess as best I could. Don’t know much about all that but the lady in the store was a blessing,” he massages your shoulders as he talks. You’re tense as steel. “But you know, you got perfect skin so...” 

“Mm,” you put the foundation back and peruse the little shelf alongside the mirror. You reach for the moisturizer. Your skin feels raw.  

“I like it, au natural. Touch of cream, little lash...” 

“I’ll figure it out,” you grumble. He’s kind of annoying. No, he’s really annoying. All of this is annoying. 

“Right, yep, I will get out of your way,” he bends and kisses the crown of your head, “lots of time.” 

He strolls out and you scowl at the mirror. Something about him is getting to you. You’re not an angry person. You’re a nice person. You don’t go out of your way to be around others but when you are, you strive to be pleasant. Or at least, out of the way. 

You spread the cream over your face, watching your reflection as if it’s someone else. Where did he come from? Why? This is some cruel trick because you only ever wanted to mind your business. 

You cap the bottle and put the moisturizer back. You fish out a mascara stick and brush it on your lashes then find a neutral lip colour to put on. Nothing special, just like you. Hopefully he sees that soon enough. 

You pack away the case and push it to the back of the vanity. You get up and go to the velvet bench where the dress lays. He’s plucked out a few things to go with it. A gold necklace with small diamonds speckled along it and a pair of beige heels.  

You peek at the door before you untie the robe. You shiver as your fingers brush your stomach. You close your eyes as you recall how he wrapped you up in a towel after your bath. His touches were more than deliberate but his intrusive gaze made you squirm more. 

You pull on the lingerie tucked under the dress. A thong. You’ve never worn one of those, and a satin and lace bra with no padding. Even as you pull the dress up your figure, you feel like you’re on display. You reach back, bending your arm until your elbow throbs as you push the zipper up. 

“Need some help?” Lloyd’s voice makes you wince. 

You sniff, “sure.” 

You hold up the bodice as he approaches. You refuse to look back at him as he nears. He tickles along your spine with a single finger before he tugs on the zipper. He pulls it up little by little, until the fabric is snug around you. His fingertips drift down your back and he spreads his hands across your ass. You gasp. 

Before you can step away, his hands glide around and he grabs you by the hips. He pulls you against him and rocks with you. He inhales your scent from above and sighs. 

“Jellybean...” he almost sings, “are you...untouched?” 

You lock up and grab at his hands, trying to free yourself. 

“Is that why you’re so shy?” He snickers and spins you around, hands going to your waits, “I’m honoured to be your first.” 

You gape at him, horrified. His intent hasn’t been hard to guess but said aloud, it is all too imminent. 

[moonstruckme]

Dude I just get my hearing aid after have trouble hearing for some months

Could I request one for any character you like with a reader with hearing problem? When it happens they already in relationship so it a big change for both of them?

Cos not everyone in my family take it kindly... So it might happen in relationship too right?

I'm sorry you had to wait so long lovely! I don't have much experience with hearing impairments, so I apologize if anything is inaccurate—please feel free to let me know! And thank you for requesting <3

cw: frustrations around not hearing well, difficulties aquiring healthcare

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re dicing onions, blinking hard against the fumes and trying to make as quick work of it as you can, when something touches your lower back. You gasp and jolt, knife slipping down the curvature of the onion and scaring you badly enough that you drop it as you spin around. 

Steve looks just as startled as you do, staring at you with wide eyes. Lately, you’ve had trouble catching everything people say when they talk, but that’s not an issue now because he’s immediately yelling. 

“Jesus—shit!” He drops into a squat, picking up the knife you hadn’t realized had clattered to your feet. Your heart’s still going a mile a minute, his panic fueling your own. “What the hell was that?” 

You press your fingers to your temples, mindless of the vegetable juice stickying your hairline. “Oh my god,” you pant, “you scared me!” 

You see it click in Steve’s face. “You couldn’t—I said hi when I came in.” He shakes his head, agitated. “You hummed back!” 

“I didn’t.” 

“You did!”

“I must have been humming about something else!” A belated, frightened tear leaks from your eye, and you take a harsh breath, trying to slow the adrenaline racing through your bloodstream. “I didn’t hear you.” 

The appearance of tears reverses your boyfriend’s demeanor in an instant. “Hey,” he says, now soft enough that you see his lips form the word more than hear it. He sets the knife on the counter, gripping your upper arms. “Okay, I’m sorry. Don’t cry.” 

“It’s the onions,” you huff, though you’re not sure that’s strictly true. 

He makes a sound that might be a word and pulls you into his chest. You fist your hands in the material of his sweatshirt, still a little bit furious at him. Or maybe at everyone. Everything. 

Steve says something else, and you sigh. 

“Can’t hear you.” 

Usually he’s better about this, but you still get sick of saying it. It feels like he’s making you remind him, forcing you to admit you can’t get on just the same as everybody else, though of course you know he’d never do that. Steve’s a good guy down to his bones. You’re just mad, lately. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he says at an audible volume. “I thought you could hear the door, and then when you seemed like you responded to me saying hi…I just thought I was good.” 

“It’s fine.” 

You’re shaking just slightly, the adrenaline working its way out of your system, and when Steve notices he tightens his grip on you as if he can contain your panic. 

“I almost made you cut your own finger off,” he says. 

“Well, I didn’t.” 

“Still.” He presses a kiss into your hair. “How long until you can get a hearing aid again?” 

Irritation prickles down your spine. “I don’t know. I’m still working it out with the insurance company.” 

Steve must hear the darkness seeping into your tone, because he gives your upper back a solid rub. “Let me know if there’s any way I can help.” 

You have to clamp your jaw shut, the temptation to be cruel sharp and cutting in your mouth. You could help by remembering to speak up, you want to say. It doesn’t seem like you’re asking that much of him. You can understand when other people forget, but Steve lives with you. It’s not so hard to raise his voice a little when he wants you to understand what he’s saying. Half the time, you can’t even hear yourself when you speak because you’re trying to be considerate of him and talk at a normal volume. When he doesn’t do the same for you, it makes you feel like you’re in this alone. 

Still, you know these thoughts don’t have so much to do with a deficiency in your boyfriend as your upset over your own change in circumstance. All of a sudden, the way you experience the entire world has shifted. You hate asking Steve to accommodate you, and you wish that you didn’t have to ask, but it’s nobody’s fault that you’re both still adjusting. In the time between now and when you eventually get a hearing aid, you’re just going to have to get used to this feeling that you’re a world apart from him. It’s not his fault he can’t be in it with you. 

Steve pulls away from the hug but keeps his hands on your arms, and he’s looking at you oddly. Considering. For all the shit you give him about not understanding when you need help, he really can surprise you with his intuition sometimes. Maybe he just knows you that well. 

You’re about to ask What? and hope your voice doesn’t come out as pissy as you feel when he says, in a tone somehow both loud and gentle, “Maybe I could get you a walkie talkie.” 

You blink. “Huh?” 

“Dustin just got these ones that light up when someone’s talking to you,” he explains. He lets you go, leaning back with his elbows on the counter opposite you and a pensive furrow between his brows. “So what if instead of trying to guess what you can hear, I just call you on that when I’m about to come inside? That way even if you don’t hear it you’ll see the light.” 

“That…could work.” You hesitate. “So I’d just carry it everywhere with me so I see if it lights up?” 

Steve winces. “I guess it doesn’t sound as easy as I’d thought.” 

“No, let’s try it,” you say, encouragingly as you can and nodding for good measure. “It might help.” 

“Yeah?” he asks hopefully. 

“Mhm.” You nod again. “Thanks, Stevie. I know I…I know this is really inconvenient. Thanks for trying so hard.” 

“Hey, it’s not. It’s nothing.” His voice drops until you can barely make it out, and when you look up at him Steve’s expression is softly fond. He makes sure you can hear when he asks, “You want another hug, honey?”

There’s that intuition again. You nod, stepping into his arms where he waits by the counter and wrapping yours tightly around his waist. 

“Thank you,” you say again, the material of his sweatshirt heating with your breath. 

Steve presses his cheek to your head. “Don’t mention it.” 

[neowinestainedress]

hi, is it okay to request mark breeding kink later if you have a free time? its up to you to make it as drabble or full fic. like both of them are ready to settle down and he intends to speed things up. he even tracks her ovulation period to make love intensely in that week and won't stop until her pussy ruined. another new day would start with her swollen pussy. thank you!

w!: unprotected sex (ofc), breeding kink, pregnancy talks, implied overstimulation

a/n: this turned out pretty soft and romantic overall, hope you like it!

You’re not surprised that trying for a baby meant to fuck a lot, but surely when you and Mark talked about it, you wouldn’t have expected him to be constantly over you. 

Truth be told, it shouldn’t be shocking, you know him for too long to act unaware of 1) his breeding kink and 2) his want to be a father. So it’s only obvious that as soon as you both felt ready for this big step, he’s not letting any opportunity go to waste. 

“Mark,” you chuckle when you feel his arms wrap around you, pushing you back into his chest while he presses his lower half against your ass. “Come on,” you giggle, turning your face back, squirming a bit at the ticklish sensation of his lips on your neck. 

“What? You’re ovulating,” he whispers against your ear. 

“Yeah, I don’t need you to tell me that,” you joke, rolling your eyes back. “Wait, are you keeping track of it?” 

Your boyfriend shrugs, kissing the corner of your lips. “I might, is that a crime?” 

You shake your head while chuckling, “No, but damn, you really want that baby.” You turn around, letting him push you against the countertop in the kitchen, biting your lips when you look down, his half-hard boner pressing into you. 

“Wasn’t it already clear enough?” 

“You surprise me a bit more every day,” you say, caressing his cheek and pulling him into a kiss. Mark doesn’t pull away from it when he lifts you up in his arms and walks swiftly to the bedroom, closing the door behind with a kick of his feet before he lays you on the bed. 

That was when you realized how truly deep into it Mark was, and to be honest, it just turned you on even more. There was something new about him and all of this that made your brain spin. Mark had never been so feral and needy. 

“Mark,” you breathe out weakly, back arching off the bed as he keeps fucking into you. “Too fucking much,” you mutter, eyes rolled back in pure bliss, and whole body trembling. 

“No, pretty, just once more. Gotta pump you full of cum, don’t you want that?” 

You nod weakly. “Yeah, want that, but, please,” you cry out, feeling the known sensation build up inside again.  

“Please, what? Only fucked you twice today,” Mark whispers as he quickly moves you so he can fuck deeper into you, your legs pressing flat against your chest while his body applies pressure on you, almost bending you in half. “I’m sure you can take more.” 

You whimper, nodding quickly as you feel another orgasm approach, but not quite sure of what Mark has in mind, you try to keep it in. It’s true that it’s ‘only’ your second orgasm but you two have been fucking like rabbits for a week now, and pretty much with only one goal in mind, so every fuck lead to at least three orgasms because he needed to be sure you were full of cum. 

His thrusts are fast, desperate even, and his moans are louder than usual. You have no idea how long it lasts, and only when his movements start to get messier, you realize that he’s close too. 

“Want my baby? Yeah, you’d look so pretty carrying my baby around, love. I just know.” 

You nod quickly, trying to open your eyes to meet his, melting on the spot when you do and see him look down at you with so much love and lust. “Please, Mark, please, breed me,” you beg, voice high. 

A soft smile curls his lips as he leans closer to kiss you, pushing your legs further down to fuck deeper into you. “You’ll make the best mom ever.” 

You feel like you’re overflowing when he comes inside you for the third time, lewd sounds of cum squelching out of you making your head spin as your orgasm ripples through your body, pussy squeezing hard around him until he can hardly move in and out of you. 

“Gotta make sure you keep it all in,” Mark groans, pumping into you another time before stilling inside your swollen pussy, keeping your hips up. “You okay?” Mark asks, still inside you, as he gently caresses your forehead. 

“Tired,” you smile weakly before sleep takes over you.  

You’re woken up in the morning by Mark’s dick rubbing between your thighs while his hand gently caresses your boobs and his lips leave gentle kisses on the back of your neck. 

“Mark?” You whisper, trying to shake off your sleep and turn around to see him. 

“Morning, babe,” he says, kissing your face, and moving his hips against you. “Can I fuck you or are you too sore?” 

You chuckle, shaking your head before humming. “I’m sore but I’m also horny, so why not. We gotta make the best of this, if our wish comes true, in a few months you won’t be able to have me this easily.” 

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[valeskalikespickles]

OUT OF MY LEAGUE

Request by Anonymous

EVAN BUCKLEY X READER

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Reader likes Buck and isn't too confident about it. She tends to get jealous. Buck and reader get into an argument.. then booyah idk they want each other. I kind of just wrote out of my ass. But thank you so much for requesting!!

Gender: Female

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Having feelings for my best friend probably wasn’t my smartest idea.. Especially because he is literally the furthest anyone could be out of my league. But I like to torture myself so.. Here we are! I mean I know I’m not ugly per say, but I’m definitely not pretty enough for Buck. 

I was standing with Bobby and Hen when Buck walked over holding his bag over one of his broad shoulders and his phone in the other hand. “Another DXA scan and guess who dropped another half percent?” Buck had a goofy smile on his face and I rolled my eyes. “What?” Hen looked confused but I had been hearing about his stupid obsession over his body fat even though he was literally already perfect. 

“A DXA scan, it measures your body fat.. You can see your percentage in every part of your body.” He said proudly, showing her the screen. “Oh yeah? To measure the fat in your head?” Chimney walked over with a goofy, proud smile on his face. “See that would be funny but right now we’re about a week away from submissions being due for the hot day smoldering nights men of the LAFD wall calendar and I’m already at my goal weight so it seems my head is clearly.. Working perfectly.” I laughed lightly, Hen spoke up.. Rambling about how sexist this whole thing was. 

I zoned out on my phone, another perfect girl showing up on my Instagram feed. God really chooses favorites doesn’t he? Chimney broke me out of my trance, “Okay, that is a beautiful man.” I looked up from my phone to see a newbie, a bit shorter than Buck, brunette, brown eyed, hispanic, the complete opposite of Buck. Alright, why am I comparing them? Buck doesn’t like me like that. “Where’s the lie? And I like girls.” Hen laughed and I snickered as well. “Who the hell is that?” Buck looked almost offended. 

“Buck, you're not getting replaced.. Calm down.” I placed a hand on his arm with a laugh and he rolled his eyes and shrugged my hand off. “That’s Eddie Diaz, new recruit. He graduated top of his class just this week. ” Bobby spoke, hands on his hips as usual like a disappointed mom. “The guys over at station six were dying to have him but I convinced him to join us.” 

“What do we need him for?” Buck almost snapped, gosh this new guy thing was definitely getting to him. I walked away from the conversation with a small laugh. I went over to the kitchen and grabbed some water. Buck showed up soon after, “This guys trying to steal my spot. I can feel it.” 

“No he isn’t Buck.” I ran a hand through my hair, “Give the guy a chance?”

“Aw you too?” He groaned, spinning in one of the chairs. “He’s already brainwashing you guys!” I let out a laugh, “How’s Abby?” I hated bringing her up but I unfortunately needed to know for my own gain. Not like I’d ever make a move but if he’s single there’s a sliver of hope right? “Haven’t really talked to her in awhile, but there was this girl at the bar. She gave me her number but uh.. We went back to her place.” He sighed. I know he hates how hypersexual he is. “I was doing so well. I Haven't slept with anyone in almost a month.” He admitted.   

“Buck it’s alright to sleep with people sometimes.” I couldn’t ignore the pang in my chest when I thought of him sleeping with anybody else. Just thinking about him with anyone else was enough to drive me insane. “I do it every now and then,” That was a whole ass lie, but he’s my best friend and I needed to make him feel better. “You do?” He laughed, looking up from his hands. “No no I don't. I just wanted you to feel better.” I snickered. I sat down next to him at the bar of the kitchen. “You're a good guy, you just pick shitty women.” 

And with that the alarm went off.

—----------------------------------------------------

I got home, setting my bag on the counter and pulling my coat off. I hung my keys up on the ring and almost immediately took my belt off. That thing was suffocating 24/7. I looked down and saw 4 missed messages from Buck. I groaned and opened them. 

Evan:“Can I come over? A pipe burst in Abby's apartment and it flooded.”

Evan:“Viennnaaaa.” 

Evan:“Viiiii”

Evan:“I’m about to just show up if you don’t respond.” 

Vienna: “Why would I care? Yeah you can always come over but I swear if I hear anything else about this stupid calendar I'll lose it.” 

Evan<3 liked a message

I shouldn’t be excited for him to come over.. Well he’s my best friend so I should be but also what if I say something stupid? I’m already exhausted enough. About 15 minutes later Buck walked through the door, I was in my pjs and was holding my cat Prince. “Oh hey.” I sat the cat down and greeted him with a hug. “All your stuff okay?” I tilted my head slightly and he nodded. “All of my stuff yeah.. But Abbys not so much.” He laughed. 

“Why are you still living there?” I blurted, not really regretting it. He shrugged, “where else would I stay?”

“Your apartment?”

He shook his head, “I sold it.” He gave me a look that said ‘please don’t be mad at me’ I gave him almost a mom look. “Evan.” His lips immediately turned into a thin line. “I wasn’t thinking!” He protested and I shook my head. “Just stay here. It’s not healthy for you to stay there anymore.. She’s not coming back and you know that.”

“You don’t know that.” He sighed and let out almost an amused laugh. “You still think she’ll come back for you?” That sounded harsh but it was true. He furrowed a brow in confusion, “Why are you acting like this?” He scoffed and I rolled my eyes. “You're just making yourself miserable! Staying at your ex-girlfriend's house isn’t healthy.”

“Oh and you know so much about a healthy relationship hm?” He said, clenching his jaw. 

“Buck.” I warned.

“No no, please enlighten me. What do you know about a healthy relationship? The last guy you were with cheated on you twice and you stayed.” He scoffed once more and almost immediately looked like he regretted it. “This isn’t the same situation.” I shook my head. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He sighed. 

“Then how did you mean it because it for sure sounded like you meant I’m a dumb ass for staying with him even though- You know what? No, I'm not doing this right now.” I threw my hands up in frustration and turned to walk to my room. “Guest beds made for you.” I said as I slammed my door.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I heard a knock on my door and sighed, getting up and letting Buck in. “I’m sorry for being a dick.” He flopped onto my bed and turned to lean on his hand, propped up on his elbow. 

“Me too.” I sat down with my legs crossed in front of him. “You really are welcome to stay here. Unless you’d rather be at Abby’s?” 

He shook his head and placed a hand on my knee, I could’ve sworn I let out a quiet yelp. “No no, I’d rather be here.” I smiled at him, “Finally decided to believe your best friend.” 

He sat up and faced me, “Have you ever thought about.. You know us bein-” There was a knock at the door that I got up to go get and saw my neighbor standing there. “Oh hey Jamie, what's up?” She handed me a white envelope and smiled back. “Mail got mixed up again.”

I took the envelope with a grin, “Oh thank you! Have a nice evening.” She waved goodbye and I closed the door behind myself. “What were you saying?” I looked up at Buck and grabbed my letter opener. He shook his head. “Nevermind.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later Buck was still living with me and it was starting to feel like he was staying for this long on purpose. That’s silly though right?

I was making dinner when he got home, a 24 hour shift that I could already tell knocked the life out of him. He walked over and took a piece of bacon from the plate. Breakfast for dinner. (Like the only thing I can cook) 

“Can I talk to you?” He spoke softly, I nodded. “What happened to Hello, how are you?” I laughed, he rolled his eyes and continued. “I’ve been thinking and.. What if we went out sometime?”

I nodded, “Like where? Bowling again?”

He laughed, “No no.. like on a date, Vi.” I looked at him like he was some alien, what in the world was he even talking about right now? “What? Did the station get dosed again?”

He looked down at me with those pretty pretty eyes I could never resist no matter how hard I tried. “Vi.. I’m being serious.”

“You really are desperate aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes, he just wanted sex so bad. He shook his head and rested a hand on my cheek. “We don’t even have to do anything...” He leaned down into my ear, speaking barely above a whisper. “I like you, Vienna.” I pulled back to look up at him. “Is this a joke? I understand I’m not the prettiest but no need to mock me, Evan..” 

He looked confused, “I’m not mocking you? You're literally stunning.”

If he was fucking around I was gonna kill him. I looked up at him, looking for any sign of insincerity.. Nothing. All I could do was nod, him leaning down to kiss me. It wasn’t like how Liam(my ex) used to kiss me, it meant something. I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck before remembering the eggs. “Shit.” I turned to the stove and quickly took them off the burner. “So.. that's a yes?” He smiled, I nodded with a laugh. “It’s a yes, Buck.”   

[idkwhatever580]

Country Girl

Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x singer!reader

Prompt: One night a drunken Tony forgets y/n’s Texan roots and dares her to sing something different.

Warnings: dumbass Tony, songfic, swearing

A/N: okay guys. I usually dislike country but it’s growing on me. Yes this is low key a vent lol but in a good way? Idk I know the people that I’m linking the songs to. Like I literally know them. (Well the second one I know know and the first one I know her kids better but I know her too lol)

Disclaimer: I do not own these songs. The first song in the fic is not going to be y/n’s but the second one is. I would like to preface this by saying it’s like a face claim but for a song lol idk how to describe it 😭

Y/n’s Pov

I just finished my last song of the night and I am saying my goodbyes to the drunk people of the infamous Stark party.

Then suddenly Tony walks onto the stage (more like trips) and slurs

“You can’t sing good! Only good singers can sing every genre”

I chuckle at him and say

“Tony I can sing every genre. I just don’t.”

He smiles at me like he’s about to win something.

“Prove it. Sing a country song.”

I smirk and look over at Natasha who is on one of the couches watching me from afar and she gives me an eyebrow raise so I say

“What’s in it for me?”

He thinks and says

“You know how you always want me to make you your own iron man suit?”

He waits for me to nod and when I do he continues

“I’ll make one for you if you can sing a country song with no lyrics”

I hold my hand out immediately saying

“Deal”

He pauses and says

“But! You can’t sing one of the popular ones that everybody knows like before he cheats okay?”

I keep my hand out firm and say

“Deal”

So he takes it and we shake on it. I make it a point to look at the crowd and say

“Y’all are seeing this right?!”

They all nod and I once again give Natasha a little smirk knowing I’m getting an Iron Man suit.

So I go backstage for a second and grab my guitar and then I pull up a stool and adjust my mic.

I take a breath and say

“Here goes nothing”

Making the crowd laugh a bit. Honestly anything can make a drunk person laugh.

Either you can listen to this or just read the words. Idc. It helps if you listen. (It’s only part of the song btw)

I start strumming the guitar like my teacher taught me. I learned how to play on this song so it’s in my heart.

But it doesn’t matter. I’m still nervous as fuck. I might have learned how to play with this song but I never had to perform it.

I never stay in one place too long

A dirt road's singing me a siren song

I smile when I start to feel the music. I can see a couple people recognizing the song. But not many since it’s only like half way popular.

I gotta find a field

I need to spin my wheels

I got a hankering for four wide tires

And I can't help it it's the way I'm wired

'Fore you get too close

At the last minute I decide to change the words since I’m gay and I don’t like boys. Don’t wanna send the wrong signals.

Girl you need to know

I got a heart like a truck

It's been drug through the mud

Runs on dreams and gasoline

And that ole highway holds the key

It's got a lead foot down when it's leaving

Lord knows it's taken a hell of a beating

A little bit of love is all that it's needing

But it's good as it is tough

I got a heart like a-

“Hold on hold on hold on!”

Tony cuts me off so I stop playing. I give him nasty look and everyone in the crowd boos him since he literally cut into the song I was singing. But before I can say anything he says

“I know this song. I wanna hear something I haven’t heard before.”

I roll my eyes and say

“Stark, you actually only asked for a not super popular country song. I’m singing a half way popular country song.”

He shakes his head and says

“Okay me something you know I’ve never heard before.”

I smirk and look over at Natasha and she nods her head.

So I run backstage and tune my violin so I can play the bridge and then I set it on my stand and oick up my guitar again.

“You wanna hear something you’ve never heard before? I’ll give you just that”

He narrows his eyes and says

“What’s the song name?”

I sigh and say

“Leave Texas Dry.”

He folds his arms and sways a bit. He’s still drunk as fuck

“Who’s it by?”

I smile at him sweetly and say

“Y/n motherfucking Y/l/n”

His face goes white knowing he just lost and I say

“You seem to have forgotten my roots Anthony. I was born and raised in Texas. In other words you just lost a bet with a country girl.”

He scoffs and says

“Not yet. The song has to be good. How do I know it’s not chicken shit?!”

I smirk and say

“Let me fucking play and you’ll see”

The crowd low key goes wild and I sit my happy ass back down and start playing.

I’ve only played this song for Natasha, but I sure as hell practiced so many times that I memorized it. I was not about to get it wrong in front of my possible girlfriend at the time.

I remember asking her to be my girlfriend after singing it.

Once again I am NOT Kay O’Neil. I am simply an acquaintance that loves her music and also happens to write fanfics lol.

Here’s the song if you wanna listen before reading.

She’s like summer rain

Takes my cares away

Drives me insane

She’s all I need

Just for her to stay

Is all I plead

While singing I start thinking of her. I am only looking right at her and I think of the first time I met her. Before we dated I could not handle myself. It’s almost funny how clumsy and awkward I got around her.

‘Cause when she smiles

My heart can’t take it

And I’d go miles

Just so we could make it

‘Cause I’m startin’ to see

How hard it would be

To let her pass by

And leave Texas dry

I was just a girl from Texas that ended up with powers. I had no idea what my life was to hold.

She’s pourin’ down

And I can’t get enough

Wanna keep her ‘round

I remember the first time we danced in the rain. I was sad and sitting on the roof. She, being my best friend, had come out and sit there with me. Then it started raining and she pulled me up to go inside but I stopped her and asked her to dance with me.

I stepped on her foot a few times but she didn’t mind.

‘Cause when she smiles

My heart can’t take it

And I’d go miles

Just so we could make it

‘Cause I’m startin’ to see

How hard it would be

To let her pass by

And leave Texas dry

I pick up my violin for the bridge and start playing with all my heart.

Then I look at Natasha and smile seeing her bright smile on display. She can make me melt from one look. And I start singing the bridge.

It’s hard lettin’ go

When her love is all I know

But I want her to do

What she wants to

I wrote that because I was terrified. We had a situationship, but she was scared of love. And I was scared of life without her. But I wanted the best for her so I was ready for rejection.

Then I slow it down for the last chorus.

‘Cause when she smiles

My heart can’t take it

And I’d go miles

Just so we could make it

‘Cause I’m startin’ to see

How hard it would be

To let her pass by

And leave Texas dry

She blows me a kiss and I send her a dopey smile and I suddenly remember the black box in my pocket. I kept it on me for any time that was perfect. And honestly. What a better way to do it?

So I move my hand to signal her up here and I give Wanda a look to make sure Tony doesn’t get in the way of it.

She immediately understands and nods her head having her mission set out.

Then Natasha makes it onto the stage as I sing the last few lines.

Oh don’t leave Texas dry

Leave Texas dry

I stand up and look at her and she has a surprisingly watery smile.

I hand her my violin since the stand is behind her and while she turns around I shush the crowd and get down on one knee while getting the ring box.

She turns around and gasps.

I give her a loving look and say

“Natasha. You have been there for me from the very beginning. I remember my first day here and Clint was showing me around telling me not to get hurt if you didn’t like me. But you surprised everyone by volunteering to help me get my things and you were so kind. I knew in that moment I wanted you. I have known for so long I love you. I love you so so much and I will never stop loving you.”

She has her hand covering her mouth and her eyes are watering. The crowd, thankfully, is dead silent except for the few coos from them since the mic is still on. I have my head mic on today instead of using the normal microphone.

“I asked you to be my girlfriend three years ago with this exact song. And when you said yes I almost passed out. I completely expected you to reject me by punching me in the face. I honestly am surprised you haven’t punched me even now. And I thought, what a better time to ask this question than doing it like I did in the beginning. So please. Make me the happiest woman alive and marry me?”

I look hopeful and she pretends to think about it like she did the first time but ultimately she nods and says

“Yes y/n I would love to marry you”

After that I break and let out a sob and shakily place the ring on her finger. She actually had to help me because I was so shaky. But she pulls me up to stand and kisses me in front of everyone.

And then our moment is ruined by Tony patting me on the back.

I look at Wanda and she sends a sympathetic look that says ‘I did all I could’ and then I smile knowing we at least got a moment. But Tony says

“Look at that ladies and gentlemen and everything in between”

I smirk knowing I rubbed off on him. And he continues regardless

“All of this happened because of me.”

I roll my eyes and instead of fighting with him I just let him have his moment knowing he won’t remember this in the morning and say

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. But you still owe me a suit”

He groans and runs off to get another drink. I turn to Natasha and say

“Let’s go to our room fiancé”

A/N: I hope y’all liked it!!! I def let my country out a bit. But not a lot. You can tell I’m from Texas from the y’all

Taglist comment or message me to be added to Taglist!!!

@ilovesnat @ihartnat

[vanfleeter]

From The Book

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!reader Warnings: 18+, as usual. A little bit of fluff. A little bit of angst, mentions of stress. Smut. Sex. Fingering. Oral sex (f & m receiving). Penetrative sex. Half protected sex (mentions of bc). A/N: Have you missed me? I sure hope you did, because I've missed you!

House parties. They aren’t your style but you go to one anyway because it’s being hosted by a friend. A friend you’ve known only a short time but became close with quickly. He and his partner were throwing a party to celebrate the end of yet another successful tour.

Everyone is here. Including him.

You don’t know him very well, the same goes both ways. When you’d visit Josh on tour, you’d catch his twin looking your way sometimes, but quickly looking away when you’d catch him. You shared very few words with the man. A simple “hello” shared between you before going your separate ways. Maybe a small wave or a smile.

And tonight. Tonight is going to be the same as always. Small wave and a smile before a simple “hello” greeting before you went to the kitchen to make yourself a drink. He came into the kitchen as well to refresh his drink. You caught him looking at you as you mixed a drink. His cheeks flushed slightly as he looked away and pushed his sunglasses upwards to cover his eyes once again.

You give him a nod of your head before leaving the kitchen to go find people to mingle with.

–

The rest of the night found you isolating yourself in one of Josh’s many guest rooms. Feeling the effects of the alcohol has your head spinning just a little. Closing the door behind you, you walk over to the bed and sink down to the floor and fix your skirt in front of your legs.

It wasn’t long before a knock came on the door. You knew Josh would come looking for you if he hadn’t seen you for a while. He usually does.

But when the door opens, you’re faced with Jake when he peers into the room. “Oh, I’m sorry..” He says. “I didn’t know–Uh–Bathroom downstairs is a bit preoccupied..”

“Bathroom is all yours.” You say, waving your hand in the air in the direction of the connected bathroom.

Jake nods his head before slipping into the room and going to the bathroom. He stops by the door and turns back to face you. “Are you okay?” He asks.

You look up with furrowed brows. “Me?”

He nods his head. “You’re up here alone.. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I just needed a little space.”

He only hums in response and taps his fingers on the doorframe before going into the bathroom. It was a few moments before he came back out of the bathroom, and a little disheveled. His pants were still undone as he worked to tuck his shirt back in. He catches you watching him. How can you not?

His pants are fully undone, zipped completely down showing his briefs. At the top of the waistband you can see just a sliver of his little happy trail.

“Sorry, I’m a little tipsy..” He giggles as he zips up his pants. He smirks though when he sees you watching him. “But I guess I can put on a good show on and off the stage.”

You quickly look away, feeling your cheeks burn. He chuckles and goes to sit beside you on the floor.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Keeping you company.”

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t, Josh will kick my ass.”

“Ahh, so he does know I’m up here.”

Jake nods his head. “He’s the reason that the downstairs bathroom is occupied… So why are you up here? Besides needing space..”

“Oh uh.. Just a little stressed, I guess.. I thought maybe being here I’d feel a little better but I don’t.. And the alcohol does not seem to be helping..”

“What’s going on?”

Slowly you turn your head to look at him. “You really want to listen to the problems of a stranger?”

“Not a stranger,” He says, holding up his finger to get his point across. “An acquaintance, yes. You are Josh’s friend, therefore you are mine, which means I really want to listen.”

“Okay..” You slowly draw out before turning your body sideways that you’re facing him. “I hate my job..”

“I don’t relate..”

You roll your eyes and scoff as you turn to move away, but he reaches for your elbow and draws you back.

“Not so fast.” He chuckles. “I’m just messing with you. Why do you hate your job?”

“Where do I even begin?”

“From the beginning?”

“Jake..” You say, shoving him over.

He laughs and pushes himself back up into a sitting position. “Listen, sweetheart, I’m a little tipsy, let me have my fun.” He says. “What’s going on at work that is currently making you hate it?”

“Well..” You huff a sigh, allowing your shoulders to drop. “I’m being overworked and it sucks… I’ve worked seven days in a row for the past seven weeks and I’m exhausted.. My boss sucks and he’s just overall a fucking creep.. And..” You sigh again and lower your head. “I’m so stressed out..”

“You seem to need a drink.” He says as he pulls himself up off the floor.

You scoff and smile. “I’ve had enough.” You say as you lift your head to look up at him. “Thanks for listening though, but you should go back to the party, you can’t be missed.”

Jake shakes his head and pulls you from the floor. “Like I said, I’m keeping you company.”

“Well I don’t want to go back down there.” You say. “I really just want to be alone.”

“Okay,” Jake says, shrugging his shoulders. “Then I’ll stay here.” He lays out on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head and crossing one leg over the other.

“Jake..”

“Y/N..”

“Please go downstairs, it’s your party too.”

“Eh,” He shrugs his shoulders again and shimmies his hips as he gets comfortable on the bed. “They can live without me.” He pats the empty space on the bed beside him. “Come, come. Lay down and relax.”

Giving in, you crawl onto the bed and lay out beside him. “Despite what Josh may do to you, you don’t have to stay with me. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy being alone.”

A smile spreads on his face. “I do too, but sometimes we all need someone to just be in the same room as.”

“And you won’t be bored?”

Jake shakes his head. “Nope.. Plus I’ve drank enough alcohol to last me the rest of the night.. So.. What do you want to do?” He slowly turns onto his side and rests his head on his hand on a propped up elbow.

“I figured I would lay here…” You say. “Maybe read a little..”

“Read? You don’t have a book.”

You lift up your phone. “I have audio books.”

“So you’re listening to a book being read.”

“Yes,” You say as you unlock your phone and open the audio book app. “Would you like to listen? It will get a little smutty.”

“Are you into that kind of stuff?”

You nod your head and choose a book. “But if you’re not–”

“Never said I wasn’t.” He says. “Start it..”

Clicking the play button, the sound of the narrator’s voice plays through the speaker on your phone.

About halfway through the third chapter, Jake speaks up. “Third chapter and we’re really getting into it.” You giggle, feeling your cheeks burn. “But I have to ask because it got me thinking and now I need to know.”

You pause the book and turn your head to look at him. “You want to know if I actually…”

“Do you?”

“I’ve thought about it..” You say. “But I usually struggle to actually make anything happen.”

“Easier with another person.”

“You could say that..”

Jake hums. “Want to try then?”

“Jacob Thomas, are you horny?” You say, setting your phone and twisting yourself to lay on your side.

“Can you blame me? I just pictured that whole scene in my head and now I’m dying..”

You can’t help the laugh that falls from your lips. “Well I’m sure there’s a woman downstairs that can help you with that.”

You go to climb off the bed when he speaks up again. “What if I wanted you?”

You pause at the foot of the bed before turning to look at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Well.. I mean.. You’re already here.. I’m horny as fuck and you just said you struggle to get yourself off to this.. Plus, I bet it’d be a great stress reliever.”

You sit there, at the end of the bed, and think about his proposal. How bad could it be? Besides, you haven’t had good sex in months. Though assuming you’ll have good sex with Jake is a stretch, you still barely know him.

“Alright..” You say as you turn around to face him.

He pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Seriously?”

“Don’t let me change my mind.”

“Then lock the door.”

You do as he says and lock the door to the bedroom. He waves you back to the bed. Crawling back onto the bed, he directs you to lay on your back.

“First things first,” He says. “At any given point, you can say no and we can stop.”

“Okay..”

“Can I touch you?” He asks.

“Yes.. Please.. Please touch me..”

He scoffs but gently lays his hand on your thigh. He slowly slides his hand up underneath your skirt. His eyes look back at you and you nod your head. He moves your underwear to the side and slowly presses his middle finger in through your folds. You let out a pitchy moan as he slowly starts to pump his fingers inside of you.

“How did it go in the book?” He asks.

“This is just…fine..” You breathe. “Perfect.. Please keep going.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head and chew on your bottom lip. He continues pumping his fingers before dragging them down your walls, just like it was described in the book. “Oh fuck, Jake…” You tighten your thighs around his arm as he keeps pumping his fingers inside of you.

“Am I doing it right?”

“Fuck.. Yes..”

You can feel your core tightening the longer he fucks his fingers inside of you. But that isn’t all that you feel. Jake’s taken it upon himself to grind against your thigh. His hardened cock can be felt through his pants. Even though he’s working you to your own orgasm, you slip your hand between you two and rub him through his pants.

“Naughty girl..” He says.

“Don’t want you to feel left out..”

He chuckles and leans down to kiss your neck. “We’ll get there.”

He keeps pumping his fingers and dragging them along your walls until he’s finally got your coming undone on his hand. “There you are beautiful.”

You're thankful that the music is loud enough that no one downstairs can hear you moaning Jake’s name.

“You sound so beautiful.”

As you come down from your high, he removes his fingers from inside of you and licks them clean of your release.

“You even taste beautiful too.”

You can’t help but to roll your eyes before you sit up and slide your body down the bed.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

You simply ignore him and get to work on undoing his belt and unzipping his pants. He lifts his hips high enough for you to pull his pants down to set him free. And when he is, you set to work. First wrapping your mouth around his cock and taking him in as far as you can.

He breathes out a breathy moan as he rests his arms behind his head.

You glance up slightly to see him already looking down at you. Sticking out your tongue, you curl it around his shaft before dragging it upwards as you release him from your mouth. Going back down again, you keep a steady pace of bobbing your head until he takes over and thrusts his hips up, pushing himself deeper into your mouth until he touches the back of your throat. You gag slightly and he moans.

“Baby, I think I’m gonna..” He moans. “I can’t..”

You continue your pattern of bobbing and licking him, slowly bringing him to his own release. His warm seed fills your mouth and you swallow it quickly, allowing only a little of it to dribble down your chin. He quickly sits up and pulls you in for a kiss and licks up the rest of his release from your chin.

He brings his other hand to your hip and gives it a little squeeze. “Clothes off..” He says.

Doing as he says, you climb off of the bed and start to pull your up and over your head before tossing it to the floor. His jaw falls slack when he discovers that you’ve opted for no bra for the night. He slides his pants off the rest of the way and kicks them to the floor before pulling you back onto his lap. Instantly he envelopes one of your breasts in his mouth and sucks gently on your nipple. He gives it a soft tug with his teeth before moving onto the next one.

He has you bent over backwards as he licks through the valley of your breasts and leaves sloppy, wet kisses down to your naval. Pulling you back up, he rolls you both over and continues kissing down your body until he reaches the waistband of your underwear. He tugs on them with his teeth and pulls them down from your waist.

After he fully takes them off, he settles him between your legs and kisses around your aching core. You whimper when you feel him slide his tongue through your folds only to flick your clit with his tongue.

“That wasn’t… In the book..” You moan.

He chuckles, the vibration feeling pleasurable against your sensitive bundle of nerves. “I know..”

Asshole.

He slides his tongue inside of you, making your back arch and your toes curl as you squeeze his head between your thighs. You can feel him smile again but he never lets up. He goes back to thrusting his tongue inside of you. He kneads his fingers into the skin of your hips, pushing you closer to his face.

He soon pulls away, making you whine from the loss of contact. He smirks and unbuttons the rest of his shirt before discarding it to the floor. Leaning back over you, he leaves kisses back up your body before stopping on your lips. Your slick covered his mouth and that’s what you could taste mixed with the alcohol still lingering on his lips.

“Definitely not in the book.”

He releases a breathy laugh against your cheek. He nudges your head to the side with his nose and presses a kiss to the backside of your ear.

“None of this will be from the book..” He says in your ear. “This is all me..” He presses his cock against your soaked core making you gasp. “May I?”

“Jacob has manners..” You tease.

Jake takes a hand and twists your nipple making you gasp. “Of course I do, darling.” He says with his faux English accent. “Yes or no, sweetheart?”

“Yes…” You sigh. “Please, yes.”

“Now look who’s using their manners?”

“I have been using my manners..” You say, reaching down to squeeze his ass.

He chuckles and reaches a hand down between the two of you. Lining himself up with your entrance he slowly eases himself inside as far as he can go.

“Sweet mother of pearls..” He groans, his head resting in the crook of your neck. “You feel so good… Do you feel okay?” He asks and lifts his head to look at you.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You say.

Lifting himself up on his hands, he starts to move, sliding out to the tip before pushing back inside. His eyes never left yours as he thrusted into you over and over again.

“Fucking is such a good stress reliever,” Jake says between thrusts. “Don’t you think?”

“Yes..” You moan. “So.. So good..”

You palm his ass cheeks in your hands forcing him deeper inside of you. He groans, rolling his eyes. He leans his head down and sucks as your neck, not once breaking the steady rhythm of his thrusts. You wrap your arms around his waist, digging your fingertips into his back, feeling his muscles flexing with each movement that he makes.

You find yourself sinking your teeth into his shoulder as the coil in your core grows tighter and tighter.

By now the bedposts were hitting the wall, the bed creaking with every thrust. No doubt anyone downstairs could hear everything now. Your moans filled his ears like a melody though to anyone else, they probably sounded pornagraphic.

He can feel your walls tighten around his cock and he smiles against your neck. “Let go for me baby..” He says.

And you do.

The coil finally snapped inside of you and you cried out his name as your orgasm washes over you.

“Such a good girl.” You can hear him say as he continues fuckin into you. He works himself to his own orgasm and he goes to pull out but you stop him.

“I’m on the pill..” You say breathlessly. “Fill me up, Jake.. I want to feel all of it…”

“Yeah?”

You eagerly nod your head, tightening your legs around his body and caging him in. He chuckles and thrusts a few more times before he’s reaching his own high. His body tenses and he’s emptying out completely inside of you.

“Gah, fuck!” He cries out before he’s bearing all of his weight on top of your body.

A minute later, he’s carefully withdrawing from inside of you before rolling over and dropping down onto his back.

“Soo.. What was better? This? Or the book?” He says as he turns over onto his side to face you.

You can’t stifle the laugh that escapes you. “You must not be confident if you’re comparing yourself to a fictional character.”

He rolls his eyes and props himself up on his elbow. “Yes, well, you can’t have sex with a fictional character.”

“One can dream..” You hum.

“Are you feeling less stressed now then?”

“Very.. You?”

He scoffs. “I was never stressed.”

“I’d beg to differ..” You say. “You went from soft and sweet to rough and angry–not that I’m complaining, but it appears I’m not the only one who was stressed.”

“Consider this a “the end of tour fucking”.” He says. “I’m so relieved that it’s over.”

“Ahhh so you were stressed.” You say, patting his chest and sitting up.

You climb off the bed and retrieve your underwear to pull back followed by your dress. Jake was following closely behind and buckling his belt when a knock came on the door.

“Room’s occupied.” Jake calls.

“Yeah I know,” Josh calls back through the door. “I owe Sam twenty bucks. But when you come downstairs, can you bring the sheets with you and throw them in the washer?”

You can’t help but to giggle when you see Jake’s face flush with red. “Sure, whatever.”

“Thank you!” Josh calls again.

The two of you soon make your way downstairs again and split in different directions, Jake to the laundry room and you to the kitchen. Josh is standing at the island counter with a fresh drink in his hand and a smirk plastered on his face.

“I knew inviting you tonight would be a good thing.”

“You tell no one, it just happened.”

“Oh honey, everyone heard..” Sam says as he walks by and sips on his drink.

“Then I think we did a great job.” You hear Jake from behind you.

“Oh gross..” Sam groans as he takes another drink and leaves the kitchen.

___________________________________________________

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[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚒

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: matty in his hashtag feminist era for this one as you'll see. following the footsteps of the 75blr greats and furthering the munch matty agenda here <33

✮ cw: smut, oral sex (f receiving), matty yaps. SO. MUCH.

✮ wc: 2.8k

matty’s hand slams over the front door, half covering the 102 painted on it—her flat number. jules doesn’t bother caring. for one, his hand is holding onto her waist, his mouth hot on hers, kissing her with such hunger that her head spins. and she knows there’s a near zero chance carly would be home on a friday night and not out somewhere with adam. 

“wait, keys,” jules pants, trying to rummage through her purse without breaking the kiss. it’s damn near impossible though, but she doesn’t want to let go. not when his mouth feels so fucking good on hers. 

matty mumbles something and moves on to kissing her neck, grinding his hips into hers where she can feel just how turned on he is. 

with one hand inside his t-shirt, she somehow manages to open the door. matty holds onto her jaw, kissing her all over again. his teeth tug at her bottom lip, and jules drops her purse somewhere on the floor, kicks her heels off too. 

“fuck,” he groans, crushing their bodies together. 

this…she’s rarely felt this… 

the only time jules ever remembers feeling any real fire and lust in her body, a feeling of electricity coursing through her veins, was the early days. days where she would dream about max and giggle like a school girl every time he touched her. 

but that was different. there were feelings involved. 

the only thing jules feels for matty in unbridled lust. she’s sure he feels the same. 

“to your bedroom,” he pants, briefly breaking away from her. she takes him by the hand, pulling her down the corridor towards her room. halfway through, he tugs on her elbow, pushing her against the wall and placing his hand behind her head at the last minute. and then his mouth is back on hers, his hand inching under her dress. 

jules laughs into the kiss. “my room is two feet away.”

“too far,” he groans and hitches her leg around his waist. 

his hands move up her leg, from the back of her knee to up her thigh and then to her ass again, thoroughly feeling every inch of skin. his touch is so hungry, and she can’t help but feel wanted, desired. 

“t-touch me,” she breathes, expecting him to take charge completely, to unzip her dress and touch her tits like max would… she really needs to fucking stop thinking about max. 

“tell me what you like,” his voice comes out low and deep. 

“i—” jules chokes, unable to think of a single thing. 

a different kind of heat creeps over her cheeks then, one that has nothing to do with desire and everything to do with embarrassment. it’s a simple question really, a logical question considering they don’t know each other. 

and yet…jules can’t come up with an answer. 

“the—” she has to clear her throat “—usual stuff. y’know?”

matty stops. his hold on her her ass loosens and his lips stop moving on her jaw. a second later, he puts a smidge of distance between them. 

“i don’t know…”

“i, um,” she just stares at him like a fucking idiot. 

the house is dark, quiet, none of them had bothered to stop and turn on the lights of course. but she can see a clear outline of his face in the moonlight, can see the slight confusion in his eyes. 

“you know, stuff guys usually do…” she finishes weakly, hoping he’d just carry on. she just wants a good shag, not to play twenty-one questions. turns out whatever she says is the wrong answer. 

“no, jules. i didn’t ask what guys usually do, i asked what do you like.”

“i like…” she bites her lip and stares at him, at his now messed up curls and dark eyes. “i like whatever you like.”

another moment passes and matty steps back a bit more. her stomach flips. how is she fucking this up so badly and they haven’t even started yet? is she not supposed to let him do whatever he wants? she’d done all the things right, too! given him verbal consent, quite the enthusiastic consent if she thinks about the cab ride back home…

“jules,” he blinks, “are you…are you a virgin?”

“what? no!” she’s so taken aback that she lets go of his t-shirt, crossing her arms in front of his chest. “i was in a three year long relationship, matty, why would you think i was a virgin?!”

he holds his hands up, trying to placate her. “then how the fuck do you not know what you like?”

“i don’t know!” she runs a hand through her hair. she can already feel the tangles that matty’s caused. “ma—my ex and i usually just did things his way. he was, uh, more experienced than me anyway.”

“uh-huh,” matty blinks, “and can you tell me what you did?”

“now?!” her voice rises another octave.

“yes, jules.”

the more she stares at him, the more she realises just how serious he is. they’re still touching each other, she can still feel his hardness pressing into her thigh and can still feel wetness pooling between her legs. but there’s also the mortification of the situation. 

“ugh, fine,” she croaks. “we did…well, the usual—”

“specifics, please.”

she glares at matty when he interrupts her, but he’s right. she needs to be more specific. “we did missionary, sometimes i went down on him.” her words have a slight bite to them. 

“and any other partners?” his voice is still eerily calm, like he’s trying not to start an argument with her. it has the exact opposite effect though. 

“are we taking each other’s sexual history here, what—”

“jules,” he almost pleads, “i promise you, i’m not trying to be daft. i do really want to know.”

so fine, he seems earnest enough. he doesn’t look like he’s trying to make fun of her, or is one of those guys who’ll judge her based on the amount of people she’s been with and would call her a ‘loose woman’ if it exceeds some made-up number. 

not that it even counts in her case. 

“well,” she looks to her feet, flushing a little, “my ex was my first. and only.”

“and that’s all you did…” matty clears his throat but jules isn’t stupid. she knows what a forced normal tone sounds like. “missionary and blow jobs?”

a lump forms in her throat. matty is the last person she needs stupid judgement from. she turns her face to one side, lightly pushing him away. 

“maybe this was a bad idea—”

“jules, jules, listen to me,” she’s surprised when he holds her face between his hands, cradles it almost, “we can figure out what you like, okay? if you still want that.”

a small part of her knows that she’s got this all wrong. that he’s not trying to be judgemental and an asshole. maybe he really is trying to help, and he’s just shit at communicating it. 

“we can just focus on you today. i can go down on you and we’ll stop there…”

“oh.” she blinks a little, trying to get rid of the stinging in her eyes. “uh, i don’t know, my ex said… he said it’s not really a great experience for girls?”

the way his jaw drops is enough to clue her in. jules waits for the ridicule, waits for him to laugh at her inexperience or just nod and continue kissing her. instead he shakes his head and stands up a little straighter. 

“do you trust me?”

does she? she doesn’t even fully know him. matty seems to read her face like she’s an open book. 

“look, i know we don’t really know each other. but as far as this is concerned, just sex, do you trust me?”

something in her gut tells her to say yes and so she nods, softening a little. 

“and do you still want to have sex with me?”

“yes,” she admits, “i do.”

she waits for more questions, waits for some other remarks he might have. instead matty leans in and kisses her. it’s not as rough as the last time, but she won’t exactly call it a tender kiss either. it’s somewhere in between, like he simply wants her to forget the world and focus on him. and so that’s what she does. 

moments later, jules is back to touching him, his skin and his hair and the buckle of his jeans. matty moves her hands away gently. 

“let’s focus on you today,” he says. “jump.”

she wants to object. sex is a two-way street, she wants him to have fun too. but something in her tells her not to argue. and so she does as she’s told and wraps his legs around his waist, feeling his solid body against hers and his hands under her ass. 

matty starts moving, walking them towards the bedroom. and jules just kisses him harder.

“lie down for me.” matty’s voice is a soft sound that dances over her skin, leaves goosebumps in its wake too. or it could be the fact that, she’s lying down entirely naked (save her underwear) on this bed, while he’s still wearing his jeans. 

their clothes are in a pile in a corner—her dress and his t-shirt—discarded after precisely three seconds of getting to her bedroom. she was excited then, gasping for breath and the touch of his fingers. but now as she lays down on the bed—her nipples peaked and her body bare—jules feels the first flutters of nervousness. 

“i’m going to make you feel good, okay?” he moves, slots himself between her legs until they’re kissing again and their chests brush together. the buckle of his belt brushes against her clit and jules gasps. 

matty smirks. “it’s going to be… so much better than that.”

“i just want to feel good…” jules sighs, feeling the brush of his fingers against her thigh, against the sweet spot just under her hipbone. it tickles a little, but more than that it makes her entire body tingle. 

“can i?” matty hooks a finger in her underwear, looking at her for permission. she nods, almost absently, distracted by the way he looks in the moonlight. 

the grown out parts of his mohawk are still quite short but some of the strands are already starting to curl, fighting to get back to their previous shape. his sharp cheekbones, and his even sharper jaw have a five o’clock shadow on them. jules wonders how it would feel between her legs.

would it burn? would it be a good burn?

at some point, she has to get rid of max’s voice at the back of her head telling her how to feel in her own body, telling her what she would enjoy and what she won’t rather than her finding out. and maybe this feels like the first step—to do something he’d always discouraged in their relationship. besides, the thoughts of matty’s tongue are making her rather eager now. 

jules lifts her hips when he pulls her underwear down and then there she is—completely naked, hoping he likes what he sees. 

matty sucks in a breath, shamelessly checking her out. his eyes roam over her tits and the dainty little pendant that rests between them, an antique opal that she’d saved months for. he reaches out and touches her, the pendant and then one of her nipples.

his thumb rolls over it, pinching it next when she hisses. she feels a current run through her body—from his fingers straight down between her legs. 

“more,” she gasps. matty obliges, tugging at it a little harsher than last time, and her back almost arches off the bed. 

she could cum from this alone, she’s sure of it. 

matty lowers himself between her legs, mouth over her stomach now and eyes still firmly on her. whenever she can manage to keep her eyes open she stares at him. she stares at his hair falling into his eyes, tickling her too, stares at his gorgeous lips pressing against her skin, moving lower and lower and lower until he’s right below her belly button. 

“need you to spread your legs a little more okay?” his tone is gentle, sure, but there is nothing gentle about his voice. it sounds barely like him, turned almost gravelly with lust. jules does as she’s told, trying not to shy away when he looks between her legs and looks back up at her. 

“i’m ready,” she says, more for her benefit than his, but he nods regardless. 

the first kiss on the inside of her thigh sets her skin on fire. this isn’t one of the soft kisses he’d placed on her stomach, this one is a little rougher. she feels his stubble, the roughness of each hair rubbing against her thigh. a slight graze, and still it’s enough for her to moan. 

he hasn’t even done anything yet and she’s already quivering. 

“god, you’re gorgeous,” matty whispers, sounding like he’s talking to himself than to her but jules still feels a flush grow over her cheeks.

the next touch she feels is the flick of his tongue right over her clit, sending the billions of neurons in her body into a frenzy. it’s one small touch and yet jules sees fireworks behind her eyelids already, feels even more turned on than she is. 

her reaction makes him bolder. matty holds onto her thighs with both hands, pulling her down in one fluid motion until his mouth his fully latched onto her clit. and then he sucks, tongue and teeth and lips working in tandem. the bedroom falls away from her as she squeezes her legs around his head and holds him in place. 

“ohmygod,” she pants, trying to keep up with the intensity of everything happening in her body, the way his tongue feels and the way his fingers dig into her body. it’s like sex but ten times better. 

jules clenches around nothing, wishing she could feel him, or his fingers at least. but then his tongue slides into her, nose pushing into her clit, and all the what ifs die on her tongue. 

“doing so good…” matty whispers, and the vibrations of his words travel straight through her, making her head spin. 

how had someone ever convinced her that this won’t make her feel good, how had she ever believed that?! jules screams out his name when he flicks his tongue inside her, big licks and tiny one, creating a rhythm, making her go insane. 

once or twice he even nips at her thighs softly, laughing at her hisses and whimpers. and she feels everything, feels all his touches in detail until her head is spinning, and she can only focus on the feeling building near the base of her spine—a knot tightening and tightening, making her thrust her hips and clench around air, making her tug onto his hair and squeeze his head. 

her thighs feel the burn—she doesn’t know if it’s from his stubble or from all the flexing, not like she cares at the moment. all she wants to do is blindly chase that feeling. 

it’s so close she can feel taste it in the air. 

“i—” she chokes, “i want—”

“what do you want?” matty looks up at her, mouth sinfully wet, presses a kiss right above her cunt, “tell me what you want.”

“i want to cum, i—” she gasps, feeling his lips around her clit, “i want to feel good…”

although she’s so close it won’t take him another second. all it takes is another flick of his tongue, right over her clit, and jules feels the knot snap. her mind goes blank, stars wink at the back of her eyelids, and she feels herself let go, feels wetness pool between her legs again, feels matty’s tongue still, lapping at it. letting her ride her orgasm. 

and she does, she grinds against his face shamelessly, getting as much of him as it takes, holds onto his hair until she can feel herself returning to her body. 

matty keeps up with everything she puts him through. still between her legs, kissing and teasing her as she’s trying to open her eyes, enjoying the way her head spins. 

la petite mort, the small death… jules finally realises why it’s called that. she really does feel like a new woman. matty, between her legs, looks as beautiful as an angel—her own angel of small death, she thinks. 

“was that bad then?” he smirks, mouth sinful, filthy, wet with her release. 

“can we go again?” she asks instead of answering. 

matty laughs, he truly laughs. jules wonders if she’s asked for too much, if he’s going to tell her that it’s a give and take, that he wants something in return if she wants him to go again. 

matty places a tiny kiss on her hip. “oh darling, we can go as many times as you want.”

one sentence and she feels it again, the familiar heat in her stomach. she realises he’s already broken a rule—no pet names—and it’s only their first time too.

but then matty dips his face back between her legs. and jules doesn’t even bother caring about that at all.