#hurt and humor and many bad words

[domjaehyun]

the need to know (l.dh) —part one

PAIRING. sneaky link!fwb!haechan x fem!reader  GENRE. smut, fluff, mild angst, some humor CONTENTS. mentions of marijuana, explicit smut (unprotected sex, oral (receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, dom!haechan, switch!reader, breast play, nothing too crazy in this fic dw) WORD COUNT. in total, 40.4k, 13.5k in part one SUMMARY. you and haechan have undoubtedly had tension for the majority of your friendship. what happens when you act on it? PLAYLIST. the need to know (feat. sza) - wale // notice me - sza NOTES. i hope you enjoy! if you’re subscribed to my patreon, this fic is already published in full over there :) the next part will be up on wednesday, december 11th! :) friendly reminder that leaving nice feedback is incredibly sexy and very appreciated!

“I feel like we’ve been in line for these bumper cars for twenty minutes,” Haechan groans.

You check your phone and roll your eyes. “It’s been eight.”

“Well, eight too many! What’s taking so long?” he complains, standing on his tiptoes to peer over the numerous heads in front of you.

“Patience is a virtue,” Jihyo chimes in, and Haechan huffs.

“Well, I’m running out of virtue.” he mutters, and you snort. He looks over at you with a small grin. “You liked that, huh?”

“Yeah, that was kinda funny.” you admit, and his smile widens as he turns fully to face you.

“Well, you know what they say about funny guys,” he muses, and you look off into the distance thoughtfully. 

“I don’t think I recall.” you say after a moment, and he narrows his eyes at you.

“They say funny guys are dangerous. They’ll make you laugh and chuckle and then they’ll make your knees buckle.” he announces proudly, and you shoot him a look.

“Literally who is saying that?”

“They are!”

“Who’s ‘they,’ Haechan? I want names and receipts, because I feel like you made that up.” 

“Well, I don’t have names or, like, timestamps, but—”

“You have nothing to back you up, is what I’m hearing.” you reply with raised brows, and he scowls at you.

“You’re no fun. Why are you my favorite?” he mutters to himself, and you laugh.

“I’m your favorite?” you coo, leaning onto him with a smile, and he looks over at you with a smile he tried and failed to restrain.

“Unfortunately.” he grouches. “Hey, look, we’re moving!”

“See how time flies when you stop complaining?” you say as the eight of you move up. Shifting slightly behind you, Haechan steps on the back of your shoe, making your heel slip out of your sneaker. “What is your deal?”

“What are you talking about?” He’s the face of innocence, if you ignore the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You did that on purpose.” you point out.

“What’d he do?” Jiwoo asks curiously, and you turn to her with a pout. 

“He stepped on my shoe so it came off.” you complain, and Jiwoo rolls her eyes in Haechan’s direction.

“I did not!”

“You’re a bad liar.” Mark points out, and you smile, satisfied that your friends have your back.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” he replies, maintaining his innocence, and you huff, glowering at him before turning back around. When the line moves up, he does it again, and you growl under your breath, whirling around to face him once more. “Hi.”

“Shut up.”

“Ouch?” He places a hand over his heart like he’s been wounded, and you roll your eyes dramatically. “Words hurt, you know.”

“Not nearly as much as I wish they did.”

He gasps, loudly and obscenely, and points at you accusingly. “You want to hurt me?” He looks you up and down with budding intrigue. “Why is that kind of hot?”

You sigh loudly, resting your hand on his shoulder as you fix both of your sneakers. “You’re insane, and you’re a nuisance, Haechan.” 

“Only to you,” he coos, and Renjun clears his throat pointedly from his spot in front of you two.

“Not true. I also find you to be a nuisance.” he adds.

“I thank you for the support, Renjun, but you find most things to be a nuisance… so that’s not really a surprise.” you say carefully, and his brows knit together thoughtfully before he shrugs, nodding in agreement.

“Fair point. On the bright side, we’re almost at the front of the line,” he points out, and you shift to Haechan’s side as you all step up.

“Aw, you wanted to stand next to me?” he teases.

You blink at him. “You can’t fuck with me if I’m standing right next to you.”

“Is that a challenge? It sounds like a challenge.”

“And if I throttle him?” you announce to your friend group.

“He’d probably moan,” Jaemin says regretfully, and Haechan nods, eyes wide with glee as he presents you with his neck.

“I definitely will. Go for it.” 

“Have you no shame?” Jaemin remarks, scandalized, and Haechan pauses to think.

“No.”

“Lovely. Great.” Jaemin mutters to himself, and Haechan smiles, pleased. “Can this line move so I can hit Haechan with my bumper car?”

“Agreed,” Jihyo says.

“Amen,” Mark chimes in.

“Retweet!” Jiwoo adds.

“Period.” you agree.

“Damn, even you?” Haechan exclaims, looking at you with a frown.

“Do you have short term memory loss? Did you forget how you deliberately made my shoes come off, like, two minutes ago?” you ask incredulously, and he rubs his chin thoughtfully.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” 

“I’m going to harm you physically.” 

“Maybe come stand next to me,” Jihyo offers, gently pulling you forward in the line towards her.

“Yeah, and you come here.” Jeno suggests, yanking Haechan backwards in line by the collar of his jacket.

“I don’t wanna stand next to you!” Haechan complains. “You smell like weed.”

“I took an edible today.” Jeno remarks plainly, and Haechan wrinkles his nose.

“The stench is embedded in your clothes.” 

“I washed this jacket yesterday.” Jeno answers flatly.

“Well, in my defense, how was I supposed to know that?” Haechan huffs.

“Can you shut up and move up? We’re next, I think.” Jeno pushes Haechan forward in the small of his back, and Haechan crumples with a wail, stumbling forward to clutch onto you.

“He stabbed me!”

“Poor baby,” you coo, embracing Haechan as he clings onto you. 

“I cannot, for the life of me, make sense of you two.” Jihyo chuckles with a shake of her head, and you shrug, the movement difficult due to Haechan holding onto you.

“He’s cute when he whines.” you answer, and Haechan coos at you fondly, nuzzling his nose into your neck affectionately.

“I think you’re the only person who thinks that,” Jeno chuckles, and you shrug again.

“Don’t listen to him,” Haechan mumbles, words muffled by his face being squished against your neck. “He’s mean. He stabbed me.”

“I poked you.” Jeno sighs with a roll of his eyes.

“You jabbed me!” Haechan counters, and you stroke Haechan’s hair, shushing him gently.

“It’s okay,” you hum soothingly. “You’re safe over here as long as you don’t get on my nerves again.”

“I’ll be such a good boy,” Haechan promises, and your eyes widen in surprise, your sharp intake of breath catching in your throat and making you cough for a second.

“Did not expect you to say that,” you mutter when you recover, and he chuckles, tilting his head up to look at you.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he teases, and you blink down at him blankly.

“Shut up before I make you stand with Jeno again.” 

“Shutting up.”

Finally, your group moves up to the very front of the line, the attendant briefly going over the rules. The eight of you agree to follow the guidelines and he lets you in, all of you scurrying to get in a car. You spot a cute, baby pink bumper car and get in that one, strapping yourself in and quickly familiarizing yourself with the controls. 

The attendant hits the buzzer to begin the timer for your session, and you all start to drive around the course, quickly getting the hang of the controls and maneuvering the small vehicles.

You’re careening down the course when you’re bumped from the side, sending your car veering into the guards on the wall. You glare over at the culprit, Haechan grinning flirtatiously as he surges forward, repeatedly bumping your car closer and closer to the corner and more off-course.

“Haechan, pick on someone else.” you complain, and he scrunches his nose as he shakes his head.

“You’re so fun to mess with, though.” he says with an attractive pout. 

“God, you’re lucky you’re cute.” you mutter, missing too late the way his eyes flash with satisfaction and budding mischief.

“What was that?” he calls over to you, placing a hand behind his ear. 

“I didn’t say anything.” you huff, and he raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Too bad? Not my problem.” you reply with a shrug, and he narrows his eyes.

“Don’t make me come over there.”

“How are you gonna come over here when we can’t leave our bumper cars?” you ask, rolling your eyes.

“I’ll get out and come over there and climb right onto your bumper car.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Jeez—” you mutter, huffing and puffing before admitting, “I said, ‘you’re lucky you’re cute.’”

He grins widely and runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up casually before he speaks. “How lucky am I, hm?”

You shoot him a wary look. “Haechan, what are you talking about?” 

“I wanna get lucky tonight.” he says slowly, wiggling his brows, and you blink at him, waiting to see if he’s serious before an incredulous scoff-laugh escapes you involuntarily.

“I suggest you get real acquainted with your hand, Haechan.” you chuckle, starting to drive forward and bump him out of your way. 

“You’re cruel,” Haechan laments. “What happened to me being cute?”

“You’re still cute,” you assure him, blowing him a kiss. “Just not that lucky.”

“Next time,” he calls out to you as you drive away, and you wave him off dismissively.

You half-wish you hadn’t brought up the image of Haechan touching himself, because now it’s all you can think about; his hand gripping himself, the way he might stroke—fast, slow, tight, with a flick of the wrist—

“Pay attention, girl!” Jihyo laughs, bumping into you as she drives by. Rapidly blinking out of your reverie, you realize you’ve been slowly veering in towards the center of the rink, your car riding along the guard rails, and you do your best to clear the Haechan-induced fog in your mind.

The rest of the bumper car session passes fairly quickly, with shrieks and giggles of delight and Haechan repeatedly bumping into you “by accident.” When you get out of the bumper cars, your legs are a bit wobbly, but the light, bubbly feeling you have in your heart more than makes up for it.

“Can we please go on a roller coaster next?” you say hopefully, and Jihyo frowns instantly.

“Those make my stomach drop… I’m gonna pass this time.” she says apologetically, and you nod in understanding, although your face falls a bit.

“We just ate corn dogs and funnel cake, like, right before the bumper cars, and if we go on, we might blow chunks.” Jeno explains, gesturing between himself, Mark, and Jaemin. 

Jiwoo looks over at them in confusion. “When did you have time to get food?”

“We snuck off,” Jeno admits sheepishly. “Well, I snuck off… Mark and Jaemin just followed me.”

“You just sensed corn dogs and funnel cake so you wandered off?” Jihyo snorts, and Jeno looks even more embarrassed now than he did earlier.

“I smelled them…” Jeno admits quietly, and you blink, surprised. 

“Okay, bloodhound.” you joke, and Jeno snorts in amusement. “So Mister Super Sniffer and his greedy nosy companions are out, Jihyo’s out… I can tell by the look Renjun’s giving me that he’s also out…”

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Jiwoo? Haechan?” you ask hopefully.

“I’m sorry, girl, I’m just—I’m kinda scared.” she admits quietly, a small frown on her face.

“Aw, okay,” you reply sympathetically, squeezing her hand gently. You look over at Haechan hopefully, and to your relief, his face softens into a fond smile. “That’s the smile you give me when I’m about to get my way,” you say excitedly, and he chuckles, something warm and inviting in his eyes.

“I’ll go with you.” he agrees, and you squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck for a hug. “Careful, now, before I ask you to ride something else.” he murmurs in your ear suggestively, one hand moving to clutch at your waist, and you gasp, releasing him instantly.

“You’re gross.” you scold him.

“What’d he say?” Jiwoo asks curiously, and you narrow your eyes at Haechan before waving your hand at her dismissively.

“You don’t want to know. Let’s go, Haechan!” you chirp, grabbing his hand and pulling him after you to the biggest, baddest roller coaster you can find.

When you get in the line, Haechan sighs loudly as he looks at the numerous people ahead of you.

“We’re gonna be in this line forever, you know.” he complains.

“Worth it if I get to ride this thing.” you say, looking at the rollercoaster lovingly.

“You are so cute.” Haechan coos, squishing your cheeks until your lips pucker out.

“Can you unhand me, you fiend, you?” you huff, pushing his arms until he releases you with a frown. “You like being treated like a baby; I don’t.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, brows raised in a challenge. “So if I offered to hand feed you and tie your shoelaces and coo at you all the time, you wouldn’t like that?”

“Oh, I’d love that. But that’s being pampered, not being treated like a baby.” you say, and Haechan rolls his eyes.

“Same thing.” 

“Nuh-uh! Pampering is treating me like a princess, not a baby.”

“Is that right?” he muses thoughtfully. You nod, and he chuckles, continuing on to say, “So I’m dealing with a little pillow princess, huh?”

“Hey!” you exclaim, looking over at him in surprise.

“Relax, I happen to love pillow princesses.” he assures you, and you eye him warily. “I do! Something about the idea of a pillow princess lying back and letting me do whatever I want to you…” he trails off with a dreamy smile, and you blink rapidly in alarm.

“Her?” you suggest, and he looks over at you, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You said ‘you’ instead of ‘her,’” you point out, and he nods slowly, clearly not getting your point. “The way you said it made it seem like you were fantasizing about… doing that… to.. me…” you say, trailing off slowly as his brows lift as if to confirm what you’re saying. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he copies you, stepping closer with a grin. “Now what, hm? What’s so wrong with me thinking about you like that?”

“We’re friends, Haechan. Friends don’t typically fantasize about their friends.” you remind him.

“Friends should be allowed to fantasize about their friends,” he counters, “as a treat. Especially when their friends look as good as you do.” 

“You’re such a flirt.”

“You know you’re lowkey into it.” he replies confidently, and you hate that he’s right.

“Move up, I think we’re gonna be in the next group.” you say, deliberately shifting the topic.

Haechan eyes the moving line ahead of him and looks back at you with a smile that says he knows exactly what you just tried to do, but relents and moves forward regardless.

As he turns to move, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, realizing that maybe, just maybe, Haechan’s a bit more serious about his flirting than you thought he was, and you have yet to determine how you feel about that.

The smell of cheese and pepperoni pizza fills the bowling alley, almost a pleasing enough aroma to mask the faint but still present smell of sweaty socks and shoes. You sip your diet Pepsi and look around the room; there are birthday parties for children, teenagers congregated by the fountain soda machine, and a smattering of tired parents sitting in the chairs by the bowling ball dispensers—and then there’s your group of friends, eight twenty-somethings far more rambunctious and chaotic than the younger age groups present.

“You’re up,” Jihyo calls to you, nudging you gently, and you sigh heavily before setting down your drink and standing up, making your way to the bowling balls. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you announce loudly to your friends, and you pick up a sparkly pink ball, walking over and just rolling it down the lane with no thought towards strategy or physics or anything of the sort.

To your surprise, you manage to hit three of the corner pins, your ball coming dangerously close to landing in the gutter, and you hear Haechan snicker behind you.

“Laugh it up, Haechan; not everyone is good at bowling. Some of us have other strengths.” you huff, glowering at him, and he raises his hands in defense.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything!”

“You laughed. That’s arguably worse than saying anything.”

“Maybe you should stick to the influencer thing… live life on easy mode, you know?” he says with a wry grin, and you watch as Jiwoo freezes, Jaemin audibly gasps, Mark smacks Haechan on the arm, and Jeno and Renjun exchange a look of disapproval. 

“Oh, that’s not–” Jihyo starts, but you hold up a hand to silence her.

“Haechan, do you have any idea how difficult my job is? Just because I don’t spend my days learning the intricacies of Cobra—”

“Python,” Haechan corrects.

“Whatever! Just because I don’t have to submit pages upon pages of technical jargon to my boss, that doesn’t mean I have it easy.” you huff, placing your hand on your hip as you stare him down.

“How hard can it be to be an influencer?” Haechan says with a dismissive roll of his eyes. “I have to submit a code to my boss by midnight, and you have to, what? Do a TikTok?”

You glower at him. “You’re horrible. My job comes with the constant pressure of maintaining public approval, and you know how they have hive minds on TikTok! One day, you’re good, the next week, you could be nothing and everyone’s in your comments talking about, ‘Oh, you fell off,’ or, ‘Not you flopping.’” 

Haechan levels his gaze at you, raising an eyebrow. “You get to go on social media and shake your cute little ass for a living… stop whining.”

You blink at him for several beats, processing which part of his statement to address first. “...Did you just call my ass little?”

He rolls his eyes and stands up from his spot, walking in the narrow space between you and the bowling ball dispenser. “More importantly, I called it cute.” he points out, and you can’t help but smile. “Personally, I think your ass is perfect.” He murmurs in your ear, and you hum softly in acknowledgement. 

“Oh, yeah? Is that why you spend so much time looking at it?” you ask, and he grins.

“Absolutely. How else do you think I made such an astute observation?” he chuckles, picking up an emerald green bowling ball and lifting it in the air. You watch as his forearm muscles tense with the strain of managing the extra weight of the ball and do your best to hide your staring. “Why? Does that bother you?” he wonders, raising his eyebrows handsomely.

You think about it for a second. “It probably should, huh?”

Haechan grins brilliantly. “Does that mean you like it?”

“I never said that.” you reply, shooting him a look. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

He chuckles and turns from you briefly to bowl, the ball rolling down the lane in a perfect straight line before it hits the center pin and subsequently knocks every other pin down. He turns back to you, smiling smugly, and says, “It’s all in the subtext, baby.”

“Baby?” you echo incredulously.

“Yes?” he answers as if you’ve called him, eyes glinting with mischief, and you roll your eyes with an undeniable smile growing on your lips.

“You’re too much.” you mumble, laughing softly, and he smiles at you, his eyes twinkling.

“Can’t handle it?” he murmurs in your ear as he passes by you, heading back to his seat.

“Never said that, either,” you say as you walk over to him and sit beside him. “Just think it’s kinda crazy to call me ‘baby.’”

“Why is that crazy?” he hums, reaching behind you to rest his arm on the bench behind you, his fingertips grazing your shoulder. “Should I call you something else? Honey, baby girl, angel, babe—”

“Shh!” you giggle, reaching to cover his mouth, but he dodges your attack smoothly, eyes alight with mirth as he joins in on your laughter.

“What? Pretty, gorgeous, cutie, sexy—” he continues, dodging your attempt to silence him again and grinning cheekily. “I could do this all night.”

“Please don’t,” Mark and Jeno pipe up in unison. You look over at them with a slight jump, having temporarily forgotten you and Haechan aren’t even remotely alone in this building. 

“Killjoys.” Haechan mutters mostly for your ears, and you laugh quietly, covering your mouth to remain inconspicuous. “It’s your turn again,” he points out with a jerk of his chin at the lanes as he pops a piece of gum in his mouth, and you manage to tear your gaze away from his jaw and the attractive way it moves as he chews for long enough to stand up and walk over to the lanes again. “Want them to put up the rails?” he teases, and you turn back to glare at him. “I’m just trying to help you out,” he says, hands raised defensively, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Maybe you should come show me how to do it, then.” you suggest with a small smile, and he chuckles before rising to his feet and striding over to you. 

He’s quick to place his hands on your sides, squeezing gently before carefully repositioning you. It doesn’t take long for his hands to slide down to your hips, pulling you back against him so close you can feel his chest rising with every inhale he takes. 

“You wanna start with your feet like this,” he murmurs in your ear, manually moving your legs by holding under your thigh just above the back of your knee until he’s satisfied.

“Like that?” you muse softly, looking over your shoulder at him, and he sucks in a breath before chuckling to himself under his breath and nodding.

“Just like that.” he assures you, but the way his voice dips when he says it leads you to believe there’s a suggestive meaning to his words. “Next, you’re gonna bend your arm like this and hold the ball just a bit in front of your shoulder.” he instructs gently, and when you do as he says, he smiles, pleased. “That’s it,” he encourages you, his voice dropping to a deliciously low pitch with that same suggestive lilt. “Bend your knees a little bit and put the foot that’s gonna slide slightly behind the foot that’s gonna stay still.” You do, looking back at him for approval, and he nods proudly. “Ready?” 

“Yeah,” you say confidently, and he squeezes your hips slightly before releasing you. You send the ball rolling down the lane in a perfectly straight beeline for the center pin, the ball knocking it and all the pins behind it over, and you squeal with excitement, wrapping your arms around Haechan’s neck and pulling him in for a hug. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer, and just like that, the vibe of the hug shifts, his touch electrifying you as he tucks his face in your neck, breathing in deeply. 

“Good job,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, lips grazing your skin ever so slightly but making you shudder nonetheless.

There’s a loud, obscene retching noise from behind you two, and you both break apart in alarm, turning to look at the source of the noise, Renjun sitting with a very displeased expression on his face and his arms crossed. 

“Can we help you?” Haechan asks slowly.

“Yeah, you can get a room.” he says with a grossed-out scowl, and you remove your arms from around Haechan’s neck sheepishly, warmth blooming in your cheeks.

Haechan doesn’t release you just yet, though, still maintaining a firm grip on your waist and the small of your back until you clear your throat gently and his gaze shifts from glowering at Renjun to looking down at you with a question in his eyes. Your throat dries, not expecting his full attention so suddenly, and he lets out a tiny chuckle, lips quirking up into a smile before his eyes drop to your lips.

Your lips part subconsciously, and his grip on you tightens slightly before Jeno clears his throat pointedly, garnering your attention once more.

“Yes?” Haechan asks impatiently.

“A room. Get it.” Jeno remarks with a grimace, and you carefully pry Haechan’s hands off of you, since it seems like he won’t be doing it himself.

“Don’t be a hater,” Haechan remarks with a huff. “It’s not a good look on you.”

“Desperation isn’t a good look on anyone, either, but here you are.” Jeno counters, and Haechan frowns before he looks back at you with a pout.

“He’s so mean,” Haechan whines dramatically, pulling you to stand in front of him. He points at Jeno accusingly. “He hurt my feelings.”

“Don’t worry, Haechan,” you coo, turning to face him. “I happen to think you look very cute when you’re desperate.”

He grins. “Thanks.” His brows furrow in thought a second after, and you wait patiently, eyebrows raised expectantly, for the rest of the sentence to kick in. “Wait—hey!”

“There it is.” you chuckle. “For a software designer, your processing is surprisingly slow.”

“You’re mean, too.” he laments, pouting in a way that’s somehow both cute and handsome. “You’re lucky I kinda like it when you’re mean.”

“Oh, do you?” you muse thoughtfully, reaching up and running your hand through his hair. His eyes flutter shut and a blissful smile makes its way onto his face. “Do you prefer it when I’m mean or nice?”

“Nice, for sure.” he sighs happily as you repeat your motions of playing with his hair. “I like when you dote on me.”

“Is that why you’re such a whiny baby?” you chuckle, and he nods.

“Only for you.”

“Aren’t I lucky?” you drawl sarcastically, and Renjun snorts.

“I’d consider the rest of us deeply unlucky for having to witness it.” he chimes in, and you look back at him.

“Then close your eyes.” you hum dismissively, and Renjun gasps in disbelief.

“I think they’re worse when they’re on the same page.” he remarks to Jeno, who nods.

“They’re definitely worse together, if you ask me.” he agrees, and Haechan opens his eyes to narrow them at Jeno.

“Good thing I didn’t ask, then.” you reply, and Haechan grins at you.

“That was hot.”

“Down, boy.” you warn him playfully, and he wets his lips slowly and deliberately, grinning when your gaze drops to his mouth. “What did I just say?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t listening.” he says with a cheeky grin. “Got distracted.”

“By what?”

“Take a guess.” he suggests, raising an eyebrow pointedly as he looks you up and down.

“There’s, like, no hope for you, is there?” you laugh, and he shakes his head.

“No, ma’am.” 

(You ignore the way the term of respect makes something tingle inside of you.)

“Guys, I think Deadpool tickets sold out,” you say worriedly as you enter the movie theater.

Jihyo looks over at you, confused. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, it says ‘Deadpool sold out’ right under the movie time listings, so… that kinda gave me a hunch.” you explain, pointing right at the sign, and Jihyo frowns.

“Maybe that’s an old sign,” Haechan says, striding over to the front desk confidently. “Hi, can we get eight tickets for Deadpool, please?” You don’t get to hear the woman’s response, but you do see her point behind herself at the sign you very much just pointed to. Haechan’s shoulders slump slightly and he walks up to your group once more. “They’re sold out.”

“Gee, how unfortunate. If only there was some way we could have known… some sort of sign, perhaps… maybe one that your dear friend already pointed out…” you lament sarcastically, and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Oh, I can. Not only can I, but I will.” you retort, and he scrunches his nose at you.

“Well, can you two stop doing that weird foreplay banter thing you do so we can pick a new movie to watch?” Mark asks, and you splutter, surprised.

“That is not what we’re doing—” you start to defend yourself, but Haechan cuts you off.

“No, no, no, that is what I’m doing.” he says, and you slowly turn to look at him in disbelief.

“You shut up.” you huff, crossing your arms. “What are we gonna watch now?”

“We could watch The Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” Renjun suggests. “They’re re-releasing it.”

“How about we not?” Haechan says instantly, brows knitting together in distaste. 

“No, I think it’d be fun!” Jiwoo chirps.

“I’d rather actually be able to sleep tonight, thanks.” you disagree, shifting to stand next to Haechan.

“Well, how about we just split up and see what we want?” Jihyo suggests, and you shrug, looking over at Haechan.

“Wanna see a romcom or something?” you ask him, and the corner of his lips quirks up into a smile.

“Sure thing.” he replies, and Renjun gags.

“Can we go get the tickets now?” he half-requests, half-pleads. “I can’t bear witness to whatever these two have going on for much longer.”

“You dramatic ass whiny baby.” you scoff, and Renjun glowers at you.

“You call me a whiny baby, but when Haechan goes on his whiny baby tirade, it’s all ‘poor Haechan,’ and ‘poor baby;’ what about me?!” he complains, and you raise an eyebrow in amusement.

“Renjun, if you want me to baby you, you could just ask.” 

“No, you can’t,” Haechan cuts in, taking your hand and pulling you towards the ticket booth. 

“Wh—Haechan!” you laugh incredulously.

“I’m the only one you can dote on,” he huffs petulantly at you before turning his attention to the attendant at the ticket booth. “Good evening; could we get two tickets to, uh…” he looks over at you and you roll your eyes with a smile before scanning the movie listings briefly.

“We Live In Time,” you finish, and he nods resolutely. 

“We Live In Time,” he echoes, and the attendant smiles and nods, typing something into the computer.

“That’ll be $20,” she says, and Haechan reaches into his back pocket and pulls his phone out, tapping it to the card reader.

“Ooh, and you paid? What a gentleman,” you pretend to fawn over him, and he chuckles.

“You know I’ve got you, baby.” he remarks casually, and his sincerity stops you in your tracks.

Why was that so attractive?

The attendant prints out two tickets and hands them to Haechan, who takes them with a smile and a “thank you” before looping his fingers with yours once more and leading you further into the movie theater.

You want a snack from the concession stand?” Haechan asks as you two walk by it, and you look over at him.

“Maybe? Why; are you buying?” you half-laugh, not expecting him to agree.

“Yeah, come on.” he urges, leading you over to the snacks. “What do you want?”

“Sour Patch Kids,” you answer, pointing at the box. “The strawberry ones.”

“Good choice,” he remarks, amused as he takes the box from the display and hands it to the guy behind the counter. “Can we also get a large popcorn?” He turns back to look at you. “You want something to drink?”

Taken aback by but admittedly attracted to this energy from him, you nod—obediently, even. “Sprite, please—no ice.”

“Large Sprite, no ice, and a large Mountain Dew, please?” he finishes the order and you step forward to stand beside him, trying your best not to look at him with hearts in your eyes.

When you two get to the theater where they’re showing your movie, Haechan gestures for you to lead the way, so you do, picking a spot close to the back of the theater and sitting down.

He sits down next to you, setting the popcorn between your seats, and drapes an arm over the back of your chair. 

“How smooth,” you drawl sarcastically, and he grins, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“You know you like it.” he replies confidently, and you try to hide your smile as you focus your attention on the screen as the trailers start to play.

It’s about thirty minutes into the movie, and paying attention is harder than you thought, considering Haechan’s doing everything in his power to make you focus on him instead.

At one point, you reach for popcorn, startling yourself when instead of feeling a buttery popcorn kernel, you feel the warmth of Haechan’s fingers.

“It was fate,” he coos sweetly at you, and you narrow your eyes at him playfully.

“Move your hand or I’ll throw popcorn at you.” you threaten, and he laughs, tipping his head back in mirth.

“You’re so cute,” he sighs in delight, eyes twinkling as he watches you fondly. “Fine, I’ll move my hand—”

“Great.”

“But you have to feed me a piece of popcorn.” he says with a smirk, and you blink at him incredulously.

“You’re really something, you know that?” you chuckle, picking up a piece of popcorn and bringing it to his lips. “Open.”

He obliges, sticking his tongue out flat, and you place the fluffy popped kernel on his tongue, trying the whole time not to think about how nice his tongue looks, glistening in the light from the movie screen.

“Thank you,” he hums, chewing happily, and you snap out of it, clearing your throat and returning your attention to the movie. “What a coincidence that it’s just the two of us,” Haechan remarks quietly, and you turn your head to look at him. “Are you sure you didn’t just want a chance to be alone with me?”

You sigh. “Haechan, this movie was my idea. You followed me in here.” 

“Watch that cute little mouth of yours before I revoke your snack privileges.”

“You touch my snacks and I’ll make you wish you were at the mercy of that Texas Chain Saw Massacre killer.” you promise him, and he exhales quietly through his nose in amusement.

“Don’t worry, baby; I wouldn’t actually dream of getting between your snacks and your little sweet tooth.”

“Good.”

“Actually,” Haechan muses, and you turn to look at him again. “That’s probably why you and I get along so well.”

It’s your turn to exhale through your nose in a quiet laugh. “Why, because you have a sweet tooth, too?”

“Because I’m sweet.” he answers plainly, like it was obvious, and your snort of amusement is loud enough that someone else in the theater shushes you.

“Is that what your mom tells you?” you tease, and he glowers at you.

“Hey! I’m a delight!” 

“Didn’t say you weren’t,” you reply with a smile, and he matches it, leaning a little closer as his eyes drop to your lips.

“Wanna see how sweet I can be?” he asks softly, and you find your breath hitching as he leans even closer. 

His lids drop slightly in preparation for the kiss, but you press a Sour Patch Kid treat to his lips instead, smiling innocently when he opens his eyes with a slow flutter.

“What was that for?” he whines slightly, and you raise your eyebrows.

“You seemed like you wanted to taste something sweet.” you hum, and he frowns handsomely at you.

“You know what I wanted.” he huffs, and you shrug, returning your attention to the movie.

“Pay attention to the movie.” 

“I’d rather pay attention to you.”

“And as much as I love attention, I’m trying to pay attention to the movie, which I am struggling to do with your repeated attempts to put the moves on me.”

“Oh? I’m distracting you?” he murmurs, a smug smile audible in his voice. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you say as he pops a piece of popcorn in his mouth, and he sucks in a sharp breath, promptly choking on the piece of popcorn and making you whip your head around to look at him in alarm. 

He glowers at you as he recovers, your eyes bright with amusement once you’ve assessed that he’s in no real danger. “That was evil.”

“I’m evil.”

“That’s hot.”

“Haechan?”

“Yes, baby?”

You roll your eyes with a chuckle. “Pay attention.”

“Maybe I could if you weren’t flirting with me.”

“Get real, Haechan.” you snort.

“Baby, there’s no one realer than me.”

“Baby,” you say, stressing the pet name, “pay attention and stop flirting with me before I stuff more popcorn down your throat.”

“Damn, that’s kinda hot.”

“Haechan!” you whisper loudly, laughing in surprise and incredulity, and several voices shush you from around the theater. 

“Can’t help it; you’re kinda hot when you’re bossing me around.” he defends himself, and you roll your eyes.

“Get a hold of yourself.” you huff, and he frowns.

“I’d rather get a hold of you instead.”

“I’m sure. Too bad.”

“God, you’re a tease.” he sighs dreamily, and you shoot him a funny look out of the corner of your eye.

“Sure, if that’s what’ll make you shut up.”

“I kinda love it.” 

“Shut up before you get us kicked out!” you whisper insistently, your cheeks warming at his incessant flirting.

“Mm, yes, ma’am.” he groans, the sound so suggestive you whip your head around to look at him in surprise, scandalized. “I like when you’re bossy.”

“I’m ignoring you now.”

“You can try.”

“I will succeed.”

“You’re already failing,” he points out with a grin, and you scowl at him, pointedly looking forward at the screen without another word.

Even with the music filling the room and the numerous bodies in between you two, Haechan’s staring is getting harder and harder to ignore. His eyes bore into you from all the way across the room where he stands talking to Jeno and Mark, and it’s so intense it’s almost palpable, prompting you to meet his gaze with a raise of your eyebrows.

He grins, flicking his eyebrows upwards, and you chuckle, turning your attention back to Renjun’s rant about his neighbor.

“...and then he had the nerve to tell me to ‘keep my music down’ as if he’s not up at the asscrack of dawn doing construction in his apartment!” 

“What a hypocrite,” you say with a grimace, and Renjun nods vigorously, relief written all over his face.

“I’m surprised you even heard any of that,” Jihyo remarks, raising an eyebrow at you as she sips at the straw sticking out of her drink.

You shoot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Well, with all the eye-fucking you and Haechan keep doing, I figured you were a little preoccupied.” she comments, and you narrow your eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, turning your nose up with a sniff.

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t lie to me.” she says with a playfully stern look. “Now, what’s going on with you and Haechan?”

“Yeah, what is going on with you and Haechan?” Renjun asks curiously, leaning forward in anticipation to hear you better.

“Nothing!” you say defensively, and Jihyo arches an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah? Then why is he coming over here?” she asks with a knowing smile that only grows when you subconsciously fix your hair as, sure enough, Haechan approaches, eyes on you the whole time. “Hi, Haechan.”

“Hey,” he replies distractedly, tilting his head to the side as he regards you. “Hi,” he says to you, his lips quirking up into a smile.

“Hi,” you answer, mirroring his expression.

There’s a beat of silence before Renjun speaks. “‘Hi, Renjun. How was your day? I totally see you standing to my right, and I’m definitely not ignoring you like a piece of lint—’”

“Hi, Renjun.” Haechan says with a laugh, and Renjun glowers at him, muttering something under his breath about going where he’s appreciated before stalking off, presumably to subject another one of your friends to his tirade about his neighbor. “You having fun?” he asks you, and you nod, prompting him to smile widely and puff out his chest slightly before saying, “More now that I’m here, right?”

“Sure, Haechan,” you reply with a small laugh, and Jihyo just raises her brows at both of you.

“I’m gonna go find Jiwoo,” she says, shooting you in particular a secretive smile before disappearing into the crowd of people.

Haechan immediately steps into the space she occupied, now much closer to you, and his smile widens even more before he speaks, murmuring, “I like your top. You look so good tonight, but I’m sure you knew that.”

“I did,” you confirm, and he snorts. “But thank you. You look good, too.”

“Oh, yeah? We’re kind of matching.” he points out, gesturing to your black lace up top and his dark gray Nirvana t-shirt. 

“Are we? That’s gray.” you reply with a growing smile.

“Dark gray and black are practically the same color.”

“But are they actually the same color? No.” 

“Why are you being difficult?” he says with narrowed eyes, and you shrug.

“It’s my specialty.” you answer with a beguiling smile, and he rolls his eyes, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips even as he feigns exasperation.

“Anyway,” he stresses the word, shifting the conversation. “Do you wanna get some fresh air with me?”

“Mm, not really; it’s kinda cold outside.” you say with a small pout.

“You can wear my jacket,” he offers, and you pause, thinking about it.

“Maybe later. For now, do you wanna come with me to the kitchen? I want a snack.” you ask, and he smiles at the invitation before nodding.

“Lead the way, baby.” he coos, and you roll your eyes with a smile as you do just that, reaching back to link pinkies with him.

“So we don’t get separated,” you explain.

He beams. “Good idea.” 

You two make your way through the throng of bodies and into the kitchen, where you promptly start raiding the cabinets.

“I love Jeno and Jaemin to death, but their snack selection is shit.” you huff in disappointment, turning back to Haechan to see that he’s propped himself up against the kitchen counter, watching you with amusement and intrigue.

“Jeno went on a snack purge the other day,” he reminds you. “Said something about overly processed foods and saturated fats.”

“Well, sorry if I like my foods overly processed and my fats saturated.” you gripe, and Haechan laughs, pushing off the counter to walk over to you. 

“I think they have fruit in the fridge,” he says, leaning into your space to open the refrigerator door. He pauses before he pulls back, eyes trained on your lips and his own lips part in a soft sigh, tongue poking out to wet them. 

“The snacks?” you remind him with a growing smile, unable to resist glancing at his very tempting mouth.

“I’m looking at one,” he breathes, and you burst out laughing, pushing him back gently.

“That was very cheesy.” you giggle, and he shrugs shamelessly.

“It made you laugh, so I consider it a win.” he says with a soft, fond smile. 

Your cheeks flare with warmth, not used to the gentleness and sincerity in his eyes, and divert your attention to the now open fridge, picking out a container of grapes that you hope are washed as you pop one into your mouth and chew. The burst of sweetness is very welcome on your tongue, and you lean back onto the fridge, closing your eyes in bliss.

“Better?” he chuckles, and you nod.

“Want one?” you say, offering him a grape, and he nods, leaning in to eat it from your fingers. Before he pulls back, he looks at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his sultry gaze too much for you at the moment and making you return your attention to the container of grapes with an urgency that doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan. 

“Cute.” he murmurs softly, and you huff, trying (and failing) to hide your budding smile at the compliment.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” you say, carefully extracting yourself from the small space he’s got you cornered in. 

His eyes twinkle with amusement as he raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Was that an invitation?”

“It most certainly was not.”

“Aw, man. Next time?” he asks hopefully, and you snort.

“Don’t count on it.”

You do your best to hold your breath as you make your way through the hallway, stopping by the window for a moment before sticking your head out and breathing in the fresh air gratefully. After a moment of relief, you decide to open the window wider, climbing out and sitting on the windowsill, feet carefully resting on the fire escape attached to the side of the building.

It’s quieter over here, you note, pleased with your newfound situation as you scroll through your phone. Sure enough, when you open Instagram and tap on Jeno’s story, you see two boomerangs; one of him and his friends sitting in a circle around his bong, and one of him blowing smoke out of his mouth.

You tap the heart for both posts before footsteps pull your attention away from your phone, making you turn your head to see the newcomer. 

Haechan stops about a foot away from the window, leaning against the wall. “I thought I’d find you out here. Thought you said it was too cold?”

“It is, actually, but this air doesn’t reek of weed.” you explain, and he nods in understanding.

“Mind if I join you?”

You wordlessly scoot over to make room for him, and he smiles, climbing out and sitting beside you. The side of your leg presses against his as he makes himself comfortable, but you don’t really want to move it. 

So you don’t, and you just silently appreciate the warmth radiating from his body as he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. 

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, and he smiles at you, nodding.

“The city looks so pretty like this,” Haechan sighs, and you direct your gaze straight ahead of you, taking in all of the city lights in the nearby buildings and the bridges in the distance. “It’s almost as pretty as you,” he says, nudging you with a cheeky grin, and you exhale through your nose in amusement.

“It is pretty,” you agree. “Someone’s feeling flirtatious, I see.”

“Can you blame me? You show up tonight looking as good as you do and expect me not to want to be all over you?” he snorts, and you raise your eyebrows, slightly surprised by how forward he’s being.

“‘All over me?’” you repeat, and he nods, looking you directly in the eyes. “Like… all over me?”

“You interpret it however you want to, baby.”

“You’re gonna have to stop calling me ‘baby,’ by the way; it’s starting to confuse me.” you tell him, and he raises an eyebrow.

“How so?”

“I think I kinda like it,” you confess, and his gaze drops to your lips instantly, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips. 

“Oh, really?” he murmurs suggestively, running one finger around one of the rips on the thigh of your jeans, and he chuckles softly as you shiver slightly, goosebumps raising on your arms. “Cold?”

“Something like that.” you reply evasively, and he snorts, his smile widening.

“Back to what you were saying… about liking when I call you ‘baby,’” he quickly returns to the previous topic, and you roll your eyes slightly in amusement. “What’s so wrong with that?”

“Friends don’t typically call each other ‘baby.’” you point out, and he shrugs.

“Maybe we can be special friends.”

“Oh, yeah? Special how?”

“Maybe we call each other cute names… touch a little bit… kiss a little bit…” he trails off, and you look over to see that he’s watching your lips again, a small grin on his lips.

“Mm, that could get messy though.” you murmur, and he gazes at you, longing openly written all over his handsome features.

“Life is messy.” he points out.

“This doesn't have to be.” you reply, gesturing between the two of you. Haechan links his fingers with yours and sets your linked hands on top of your touching thighs, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “That feels nice,” you sigh, leaning against him slightly.

“I bet I could make you feel even nicer.” he muses suggestively, and you snicker.

“Won’t lie and say I’m not a little curious.” you admit, and he sucks in a sharp breath of surprise.

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmurs. “I don’t particularly feel like holding back right now.”

“Oh, is that what you usually do?” you reply, speaking as soft and low as he just did.

He nods. “You always tempt me, actually—I’m just not feeling like beating around the bush right now.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise and—you won’t lie—intrigue. “And what’s making you feel like that right now?”

“A number of things,” he replies. “How unbelievably good you look tonight, the way I can see the goosebumps on your skin when I touch you, and,” his voice gets even softer but carries an urgency you don’t believe you’ve heard from him before, “the way you’re looking at me.”

“And how am I looking at you?” you question, tilting your head to the side curiously.

“The same way I’m always looking at you.” he answers, and you don’t need him to elaborate.

“So if that’s all true,” you muse, regarding him carefully, “then why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

“I like what we have,” he says in reply, and you smile. “Wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

“And what if I said I kind of want you to ruin it?” Your words are quieter than ever, tentative even, but by the way the fire in Haechan’s eyes intensifies, you know he heard you all the same.

“What did I just say about tempting me?”

“It wasn’t a temptation,” you say carefully. “It was an invitation.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “You know, I’ve never been one to ignore my urges before,” he admits. “If I want something, I get it.”

“Oh, yeah?” You can’t even try to hide the arousal building in you as you watch his lips with uninhibited longing.

“Yeah.” His gaze matches yours, unbridled desire swimming in his eyes as he slowly leans in, and you find yourself mirroring him, the two of you moving painfully slowly as you get closer and closer.

“And what is it that you want right now?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“I bet you can guess,” he murmurs as his lips brush the corner of your mouth.

“Give me a hint.” you reply, and he grins, turning your face towards him gently and bringing his lips to yours. 

It starts slowly, his lips gently moving with yours, before he pulls back ever so slightly, your eyes opening to see him watching you carefully.

“Good?” he murmurs.

“Good,” you confirm, and he smiles before leaning back in to close the gap between your lips. This kiss is much less tentative, his lips parting to suck gently at your bottom lip, and when you whine softly, he pushes forward, reaching up to cup your cheek as he captures your lips with his over and over again, each kiss more dizzying than the last until his mouth is moving fervently against yours, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth with a quiet groan.

Your hand finds its way to his thigh, and as soon as it makes contact, it’s like a switch flips in Haechan, his lips leaving yours to kiss the corner of your mouth, your cheek and along your jaw before finally settling comfortably on your neck, mouth kissing, sucking, and licking at your pulse point.

“Haechan,” you whimper, and he hums against your neck, but you can tell he’s not really listening. “Haechan,” you sing-song softly in another attempt to get his attention, but he just slips his hand under your thigh farthest from him, scooping your legs up and moving them to drape over his lap. “Haechan,” you whine urgently, and his kisses finally falter, the male pausing but not moving away from you as he waits for you to speak. “Can we go somewhere more private and… less chilly?” 

He pulls back, lips deliciously puffy from kissing, and nods with a dazed look in his eyes. “Jaemin’s room?”

You don’t even have it in you to be considerate of your friend, the lust clouding your mind and doing away with your judgment as you nod. He grins and ducks back into the apartment, helping you do the same before leading you to Jaemin’s room, never once letting go of your hand. 

When you two get to Jaemin’s room, you’ve barely cleared the doorway before Haechan shuts the door and pushes you up against it, kissing you ardently and clutching your waist to drag you closer to him. He nips at your bottom lip briefly before kissing down your neck and sliding his hands up to cup your breasts, squeezing them and looping his finger in the string tying your top together. 

“Why don’t we take this off, hm?” he murmurs, slowly pulling the string with a growing grin as the bow—the one Jiwoo so carefully tied for you earlier this evening—comes undone, leaving no resistance when Haechan pulls your top over your head.

He eagerly returns to kissing you, hands groping at your chest as he traces circles around your slowly hardening nipples. He pulls back from the kiss slightly and moves like he’s about to kiss down your neck, only to whine and bring you back in for another kiss, panting against your lips, “I wish I had more mouths.”

“You what?” you say, bursting into giggles so strong that you can barely manage to kiss him back, and he joins you in your laughter.

“Stop, I’m being serious!” 

“I know—I think that’s why it’s so funny,” you say through your laughter, and he growls in lighthearted frustration before whirling you around and all but shoving you onto the bed. You squeal in surprise, giggling still as you bounce on the bed, and he rolls his eyes, climbing on top of you. “What kind of eldritch horror are you thinking of becoming? Like how many mouths and where?”

“Can we just—forget I said that?” Haechan whines, and you shake your head with a gleeful giggle. 

“I don’t wanna,” you say with a pout, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he groans in exasperation. “I’m kind of a monsterfucker, so you saying that really got me going.”

“You’re joking.” 

“Do I look like I’m joking?” you ask, looking up at him, and he slowly shakes his head—whether it’s in disagreement or in disbelief, you’re not sure, but when his lips start trailing down to your collarbone, you’re not entirely sure it matters anymore.

“I’d want mouths on the palms of my hands,” he grunts, cupping your breasts again through your bra, “so I can kiss you and suck your tits at the same time.” Before you can respond, his wet, swollen lips fall to your chest, tongue trailing all over your exposed skin before he’s tugging the cup of your bra down and taking your nipple into his mouth.

A whimper escapes you, spurring Haechan on further, and he wraps one arm around you, pressing between your shoulder blades to bring your chest closer to his mouth. His tongue is warm and wet as it flicks at your nipple, Haechan groaning as he swirls it around and around your stiffened bud. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he mumbles around his mouthful of your breast, and his other hand trails down your body to settle between your legs, Haechan delivering two gentle pats to your inner thighs in a wordless request for you to spread them. When you oblige, he smiles around your nipple before wetly licking and sucking his way from one breast to the other. His fingers quickly and deftly unbutton your jeans, barely yanking them down before his hand slips into your pants, stroking along the seat of your underwear, pressing down harder when you whine.

“Haechan, please,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair and tugging gently when you reach the ends. 

“Mm, what is it, pretty? What do you want?” he teases with a quiet laugh, looking up at you as he pushes your underwear aside and trails two fingers up your slick folds, hissing in delight. “Is this what you want?” he asks, dipping his fingers into your entrance slightly and relishing the groan of frustration you let out.

“Yes,” you moan, tugging his hair a bit harder in retaliation for his teasing.

Finally giving into your demands, he pushes his middle and ring finger into your core, lapping at your nipple as you whimper loudly in relief. “Shh, shh, shh—I know, baby, I know.” he soothes you in a hushed murmur, slowly starting to pull his fingers out before pushing them in deeper.

“Feels good,” you exhale shakily, and he coos in understanding.

“It’ll feel even better in a second,” he promises, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. “Just gotta open you up first.” He releases your nipple, giving it one last lick before moving back up to hover above your face, gazing down at your pleasure-filled expression in wonder before he’s leaning down to kiss you, silencing your cries of pleasure as he starts to twist and scissor his fingers inside of you. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet. All this for me? Hm?”

“No, it’s for Renjun,” you huff sarcastically, breaking the kiss momentarily to glower at him. “Of course it’s for you, dummy.” 

He narrows his eyes at you. “There is a time and place for your sass, and it’s not when my fingers are literally inside of you. Besides,” he says, curling his fingers inside of you and making you gasp in pleasure, “why would you be mean when I’m making you feel so good, hm?”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer as his curled fingers massage at your inner walls in search of your g-spot, which he finds quickly, eliciting a sharp whimper from you as you clench around his fingers. “It’s all for you,” you confirm breathlessly, and he grins before kissing you again.

“Good girl. You’re gonna have to make it up to me, though.” he murmurs against your lips, and you pout, prompting him to coo fondly and kiss you again. “Even with that cute little pout.”

“I said sorry,” you complain, and he shrugs, fingers quickening their pace inside of you.

“I’m sensitive.” he replies simply, kissing down to your neck and sucking and biting at various spots until you’re sure there are marks blooming all over your skin. “It’s okay, though—I know how you can make it up to me.”

“H–How?” you ask warily, voice catching as the pleasure builds inside of you, his repeated stimulation of your g-spot bringing you closer and closer to climax as your insides tighten in anticipation.

“Cum for me?” he grunts, and you can’t tell if it’s a request or a stated demand, but you nod, breath hitching and your cries escalating in pitch as you start to do just that, your climax washing over you as your abdomen tenses repeatedly, your body curling in on itself as much as possible given that Haechan’s practically pinning you in place.

“That’s it, baby,” he purrs, coaxing more of your climax out as he keeps fucking you with his fingers, milking your orgasm for everything he can get, your entrance drooling clear evidence of your arousal all over his fingers and into the seat of your underwear. “Making such a pretty little mess for me,” he breathes, kissing you again as his fingers urge the last convulsions of your climax out of you.

You’ve barely recovered before your hands reach for his pants, fingers clumsily unbuckling his belt, undoing his button, and yanking down his zipper. He chuckles fondly and pushes them down to his knees, your eyes locking in on the imprint of his length in his boxers as he palms himself through his underwear.

“You like what you see?” he teases, and you furrow your brows.

“Your underwear’s in the way.” you grouch, and his eyes brighten with amusement, thumbs hooking into his boxers and pulling down until his length springs free. “Much better,” you hum, pleased as you rest your head down on Jaemin’s pillow.

“Look so pretty laying like that.” he grunts as he slowly fucks his fist. “Wish I could take a picture and keep it forever.”

“I’m only going to say this once, so listen carefully.” you say, and he raises a brow expectantly. “Please fuck me.”

The brightness in his eyes remains, but now there’s a heavier, darker edge to his gaze as he leans over you, lips teasing yours apart.

“Did you just beg for me?” he coos tauntingly, and you sigh.

“I did not beg. I asked nicely.”

“Sure, baby. I’ll give you what you want,” he promises, lining the head of his cock up with your entrance and slowly pushing into you, making your breath catch in your throat. He exhales deeply and dips his head down to your neck, latching onto your skin and sucking as he starts to drag his length out and back in, building a teasingly slow rhythm. 

“So full,” you gasp, and he chuckles, kissing up your neck to your lips. 

“You feel so good, pretty girl. Tight little pussy keeps sucking my cock back in; you like this that much?” he coos, one hand groping your breast. 

“Don’t tease me,” you huff, and he grins widely.

“How are you gonna stop me?” he counters smugly, choosing that moment to speed up the movements of his hips until the sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room, each thrust punctuated by a whimper from you. “You’re not going to do anything about it; you’re just gonna lay here and take this dick nice and deep in your little pussy until you cum all over it.”

“Fuck, Haechan—” you mumble, dazed by his thrusts and even more by his filthy language.

“You love it, don’t you?” he teases, capturing your lips in a filthy kiss where he plays with your tongue almost lazily. 

“Uh-huh,” you can barely manage to get out, and he hums in satisfaction.

“Show me how much you love it.” he urges, rolling his hips against yours sensually. When you start to move your hips against his, rocking up into his every thrust into you, he rewards you by sucking on your bottom lip and flicking your nipple back and forth with his thumb. “Fuck, that feels so good, pretty girl, keep doing that.”

You fuck him back to the best of your ability, that familiar tightening sensation in your stomach alerting you to your impending climax. “Haechan, think I’m gonna cum—” you warn him, and he nods, pinching your nipple just enough to make you squeal. 

“Cum, baby; wanna feel you clench around my cock.” he purrs, and your climax hits a moment later, a cry slipping from your lips as your back arches, your hand clutching his arm for something to ground yourself as your body curls in on itself involuntarily. “That’s it, pretty girl—doing such a good job—squeezing my cock so tight, baby, fuck—”

By the time your climax has passed, you’re still trembling slightly as aftershocks of pleasure travel through you with every thrust from Haechan, and you’re so wet you can hear his length moving in and out of you, hear your pussy sucking him back in as it hugs his length tightly, and heat rises to your face.

“My turn, baby; think you can take my load?” he grunts, and you nod instantly, clenching around his length every time he bottoms out in you. “That’s my good girl,” he coos fondly, his brows knitting together as he starts to release into you. “Milking me dry, baby, fuck—” he hisses, and you smile in satisfaction as he shudders, lowering himself to kiss you as he fucks the last bit of his cum into you.

Finally, when his length stops throbbing inside of you, he pulls out and lies down next to you, both of you breathing heavily.

“Hey,” he says, turning his head to face you.

“Hi,” you reply with a smile, and his lips curl into a matching smile.

“You okay?” he asks gently, and you nod.

“Better than okay.” you assure him, and he sighs, relieved. A thought comes to your mind and you nudge his leg with your knee. “Hey.”

“Hi?” he answers curiously, and you roll onto your side, propping yourself up on your elbow.

“If you had multiple mouths—”

“Please let it go, it was silly—” he interjects with a half-chuckle, half-groan.

“I like silly!” you counter, and he looks over at you skeptically, his features relaxing when he reads the sincerity in your face. “If you had multiple mouths, would you have them anywhere besides your hands?”

He thinks about it for a moment before he nods. “I’d have one on each thigh… so while I’m kissing you, I can grope your tits with my hand-mouths and have you sit on my thigh so I can eat you out, too.”

You shudder slightly, and he raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, I got a little excited.”

“You’re joking… damn, you’re kinkier than I thought. That’s hot,” he grunts appreciatively. 

“I think we should get up before Jaemin comes in here and chops our heads off.” you say suddenly as the reminder that this is not somewhere you want to be caught fucking dawns on you.

“You’re so right,” he agrees, sitting up and helping you off of the bed. You both hurriedly redress, Haechan stumbling as he pulls his pants up and making you both giggle. “Ready?” he says finally, fully redressed.

You ruffle his hair, messing with it until it’s back in place, and hold the strings to your top out to Haechan. “Tie it for me?”

He smiles fondly and steps closer, tying a cute bow into your top and leaning back to inspect his handiwork. “You’re good, baby.”

“Thanks,” you say sincerely, opening the door and heading back to the party. You two give each other a knowing look before you enter the living room and go your separate ways, Haechan heading for Jeno and Renjun while you head for Jiwoo and Jihyo. “Boo!” you say from behind them, and Jiwoo whirls around, clutching her chest.

“Shit!” she exclaims. “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry,” you reply without a hint of remorse. 

“Where’d you go?” Jihyo asks curiously. 

“I was on the fire escape,” you explain, deciding to tell a half-truth. “I didn’t want to smell Jeno’s weed.”

“Ah, fair.” she answers with a nod. 

“Hey, your bow is different.” Jiwoo points out, pointing at the bow on your shirt that Haechan tied. “Did you take your top off or something?” she snorts, amused with her little joke, but Jihyo looks over at you carefully, shrewd gaze scanning your body for anything else out of place.

“No, I just had to re-tie it because one of the strings got caught on one of the screws on the fire escape and it looked all wonky,” you lie, and Jiwoo nods in understanding. 

“Copy that. Well, I’m hungry; wanna go raid their fridge?” she offers, and you start to nod, but you freeze when you feel something drip out of your core. 

“I am totally in, but I have to use the bathroom first.” you say, clasping your hands together in a pleading gesture. “Wait for me?”

Jihyo’s still staring at you like she’s silently interrogating you, and you won’t lie and say you’re not unnerved. “Earth to Jihyo?”

She blinks slowly before focusing her gaze on you once more, eyes now softer and less scrutinizing. “Sorry, I was just… thinking. Yeah, we’ll wait for you.”

“Cool,” you say, relieved, before making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. You make quick work of peeing and sorting yourself out, washing your hands and drying them before heading back to the living room where Jihyo and Jiwoo and, to your surprise, Haechan stand. “I’m back!” you chirp before looking over at Haechan. “You weren’t here a minute ago.”

“Jeno and Renjun started bickering about something, so I left.” he replies with a shrug. “You don’t mind if I join you guys, right?” he shoots you a knowing look with a secretive smile, and it takes everything in you not to start giggling like a schoolgirl. 

“I guess you can,” you say nonchalantly, and he beams at you.

“Great! Where are we going?” he asks curiously, and you point towards the kitchen.

“To find snacks!” Jiwoo says eagerly, and you all walk to the kitchen, you and Haechan starting to fall to the back of the line until he’s side by side with you.

“You already said their snack selection was garbage,” he remarks, confused, and you shush him.

“Yeah, but I’m not getting a snack; Jiwoo is. So we’ll let her figure that out for herself,” you explain, and he nods in understanding.

“I see,” he hums thoughtfully. “Well… did you tell them? About earlier—”

“No,” you answer, and he sighs in relief. “Don’t worry, it’s our little secret.”

“Copy that,” he chuckles, fingers brushing against yours before they intertwine and he squeezes your fingers gently. When you look down at your linked hands and back up at him, he smiles cheekily. “So we don’t get separated,” he says with an upwards flick of his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes but pull him forward, finally entering the kitchen in time to see a cranky Jiwoo.

“Their snack selection is ass. What am I, a rabbit?” she laments, and you smile in amusement.

“They’re great at house parties, bad at refreshments.” Haechan says, and Jihyo looks over at you two before her gaze drops down to your linked hands, an eyebrow raising in suspicion.

You carefully and casually let go of Haechan’s hand by running your fingers through your hair, and Haechan fixes his mouth to complain before he looks in Jihyo’s direction and seems to understand, relaxing slightly.

Between Haechan’s need for attention, your inexplicably magnetic attraction to each other, and Jihyo’s deeply suspicious and perceptive gaze, you know you have quite a night ahead of you.

The following morning finds you back at home sitting at the kitchen island, scrolling through your phone and checking your engagement before a text banner notification drops down from the top of your screen.

haechan [10:08am] good morning 😌 did you miss me? you [10:10am] sorry……who’s this? haechan [10:11am] you’ve GOT to be joking 😟 you [10:13am] i very much am 💖 good morning haechan ☀️ haechan [10:15am] don’t play with me like that i almost crashed out haechan [10:15am] can i come over? i have a question for you you [10:16am] haechan what are we doing rn haechan [10:17am] ….talking? you [10:17am] right… and would you consider talking a synonym for ‘having a conversation’ or no? haechan [10:18am] ……….yes……….. is this a trick question you [10:20am] so if we’re already having a conversation, by your definition….. why, pray tell, can’t you just ask me NOW 🤨 haechan [10:22am] *Message sent with Invisible Ink* maybe i just wanted a reason to see you ☹️ you [10:24am] oh… well that’s cute actually haechan liked your message “oh… well that’s cute actually” haechan [10:25am] awesome…… so can i come over? 😁 you [10:26am] ofc you can 💖 haechan [10:27am] great can you let me in 😁

You tilt your head, confused by his message, but a knock on your door makes you practically jump out of your seat. You make your way to the front door and look through the peephole, barking out an abrupt laugh when you see Haechan sporting a cheesy grin on the other side of the door.

“You are insane,” you laugh as you open the door for him, inviting him inside. He enters, still sporting the playful smile, and shuts the door behind himself.

“In, like, a cute, hot, sexy way, though, right?” he asks hopefully, and you roll your eyes with a smile before shrugging and nodding, watching as relief floods his features.

“Your question?” you ask, getting straight to the point, and he visibly balks, the normally shameless Haechan becoming quiet and shifty. “Haechan?” you call his name with a tinge of worry in your voice.

“Did you have a good time last night?” he asks, and you raise your eyebrows.

“That’s your question?” you question, in disbelief.

“I’m building to it,” he explains. “Now: did you have a good time last night?” he repeats, and you blink at him impassively before sighing in slight defeat.

“I did,” you answer, not sure if he meant the party or… well, the sex… but you had a good time regardless of which he meant. “Did you?”

“I had an amazing time.” he says sincerely.

“Great,” you reply, just as sincerely. A small silence passes before your impatience gets ahold of you. “Haechan…”

“Yes?” he responds, nervousness creeping into his voice.

“Your question?”

“Right,” he mutters, clearing his throat as he prepares to speak. Meanwhile, you move to sit back down in your chair, swiveling around in the seat as you wait for his question. “Um—look—I really enjoyed last night. It was amazing, actually, and—I’m talking about the sex, by the way.” he stammers, his sudden clarification at the end making you giggle, regarding him fondly. 

“I figured, yes.” you assure him, and he nods, somewhat relieved. “Go on,” you urge him gently, and he swallows visibly.

“I would love to, um… do that again… but I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship right now. I’m still getting used to juggling my job and my social life, and I really don’t want to fuck up our friendship—”

“And you want to be friends with benefits,” you finish for him, and he pauses, body tense as he rapidly tries to read your reaction.

“...Yes?” 

“Okay,” you agree, and he just about crumples with relief, leaning against the kitchen island for support. “I’m down. But if we don’t want it to ruin our friendship or the friend group, maybe we shouldn’t tell them?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he sighs, significantly more relaxed than he was a moment ago. “Plus, it could be kinda fun, y’know? Us… sneaking around… together…” he says, gesturing between the two of you with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

“I couldn’t agree more.” you say sweetly, and he beams at you, all traces of his earlier nerves gone. “Do you think we should have some ground rules? So we don’t complicate things?”

“Sure, yeah,” he agrees instantly, and you smile, patting the chair next to you invitingly as you pull up the Notes app on your phone.

“So we want sex with virtually no emotional connection, right?” you clarify, and he nods, his reaction a second too late to process as casual. Ignoring it politely, you continue on. “So, maybe ‘no cuddling’ should be a rule.”

“No cuddling?” he laments, and you nod resolutely.

“Cuddling encourages emotional intimacy.” 

“Fine,” he sighs, frowning slightly. “Can I still hug you?”

“Hugging and cuddling are… not the same thing, so yes.” you answer with a laugh as you type the first rule, and he smiles, chuckling lightheartedly.

“Maybe… we shouldn’t spend the night after we have sex?” he suggests, and you nod, typing it into the note you’ve made.

“Is this, like, exclusive?” you ask, gesturing between the two of you, and he tilts his head thoughtfully.

“I guess not…” he says, an air of reluctance to his words that makes you pause and look at him carefully.

“Haechan, speak now or forever hold your peace.” you warn him, and he nods firmly.

“We don’t have to be exclusive if you don’t want to be. It’s up to you.”

“How about we leave that part open-ended for now, but make the next rule ‘no jealousy?’” you offer as you type in the next rule.

“Okay, that sounds good.” he says, nodding slowly in agreement. “Next rule?”

“Um, no romantic gestures? Like, no buying each other special gifts you wouldn’t buy for another friend, no flowers, no making each other romantic playlists—stuff like that.” you say, and he looks off into the distance pensively.

“What about pet names?” he asks warily, and you half-sigh, half-laugh.

“Haechan, I think you would pop a blood vessel if you had to restrain yourself from calling me pet names.” you state, and, eyes wide, he nods vigorously in agreement, making you laugh.

“It’s true!” he insists, and your laughter grows.

“I know! That’s why I said it,” you giggle as you type in the next rule, and he starts to chuckle before joining in on your laughter. “So pet names are fine, but—”

“But?” he asks hesitantly.

“‘No PDA’ should definitely be a rule.” you suggest. “It’d definitely blow our cover.”

“Okay… agreed.” Haechan says slowly, his subsequent nod more confident than his words.

You type in the new rule and sit back, regarding the list carefully. Haechan peers over your shoulder at your phone screen, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Does this look good to you? Do you think we’re missing anything?”

“No, I think it’s perfect,” he says, sounding sure of himself, and that’s enough to comfort you.

“Well, great!” you say, taking a screenshot of the list and texting it to him. His phone pings on the kitchen table with your incoming text, and he looks at it briefly before tucking it into his pocket. You rise to your feet, Haechan straightening back up as you stand, and turn to face him, extending your hand. “Wanna shake on it?”

He takes your hand with a small smile, lips quirked up in amusement before he looks up at you and tugs gently, pulling you against his chest. “Honestly? I’d rather kiss on it.”

You blink twice, stunned slightly by the sudden intimacy, but you nod. “We can do that.”

He grins, tilting his head and nudging your nose with his gently. “Good,” he breathes before he kisses you. It doesn’t take long for his hands to move, one hand cupping your jaw and the side of your neck while his other arm wraps itself around you, resting on the small of your back as he pulls you in close. His lips mold with yours so smoothly that it’s like you’ve been doing this for a lifetime, but every nip and suck from him winds you up even more than you thought possible, making for a beautiful combination: all of the comfort, no stilted awkwardness, with all of the excitement. 

When you two finally break apart, it’s for air, your hand gently resting on his chest, still clutching his shirt—you don’t even know when you started doing that—as you both attempt to catch your breath. 

“Good talk,” you pant, and he grins.

“Great talk.” he agrees breathlessly. “I actually have to go home to work on a code for this new program we’re building, but I’ll see you? Hopefully before our trip to Fire Island with everyone else, but if not, then I’ll text you?”

“It’s kind of criminal that you have to do work on a Sunday when you have actual work days to work on stuff.” you say with a pout, releasing his shirt and gently smoothing out the small wrinkles you caused. “Yeah, I’ll see you for the Fire Island trip.”

“I know.” he agrees with a frown. “Alas—not all of us can make it in life by being cute and likable.” he teases, and you shoot him an empty glare, making him laugh. “But I’ll see you soon, pretty girl.” he says, thumb carefully brushing your cheek.

“Okay,” you hum, trying your best to avoid leaning into his touch and closing your eyes.

“Later,” he says, reluctantly releasing you and walking backwards to your front door until he bumps into the corner he has to go around, a sheepish chuckle escaping him as he waves once, turning and exiting your apartment after you wave back.

Now alone, you look at the list you two compiled, carefully reading over each word.

1. No cuddling. 2. No sleepovers after sex. 3. No jealousy. 4. No romantic gestures. 5. No PDA.

They seem like simple enough rules to follow; straightforward and to the point, carefully designed so you don’t blur the lines too much between platonic and romantic. 

But, given the way he embraced you earlier and the way you so badly wanted him to stay longer, you can’t help but wonder if the lines were already blurred to begin with.

tada!!! i hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for part two, coming out on wednesday, december 11th!

DON’T WANNA WAIT? parts two and three are currently posted on my patreon here :)

[rafedarling]

We need drew when rustyns born, like labor/delivery, I think he’s the most supportive partner 😭😭

here are more rustyn for ya.

𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐲

request: OPEN

pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: your due day has finally come for you and drew to meet your little one. as labor unfolds, drew proves to be the most supportive partner, balancing his nerves with humor, tenderness, and unwavering love.

warning(s): english is not my native language. mentions of childbirth, medical procedures, mild pain, fluff, humour, use of y/n.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @rubixgsworld @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxoblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @percysley @littlelamy

“Drew,” you whispered, reaching over to nudge your husband’s shoulder.

He remained motionless, his breathing slow and even. Another contraction gripped you, and you couldn’t stifle a soft groan. With more urgency this time, you called his name again.

“Drew… babe”

This time, he stirred. His brow furrowed before his blue eyes slowly blinked open.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” he mumbled, still half-asleep.

“I think my water just broke,” you said softly, offering a small, nervous smile.

The words took a moment to register, but when they did, Drew bolted upright.

“What?!” His voice was shock and excitement.

“Oh my god, it’s happening! Are you okay? How are you feeling? Is it bad? What do I do?” He scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over the duvet in his rush.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his frantic reaction, though it was cut short by another contraction.

“I’m okay, but we should probably get to the hospital soon. Can you calm down, though? I don’t need two emergencies tonight.”

“Right, right,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair.

He grabbed the hospital bag you’d packed weeks ago, holding it like it was the most precious cargo.

“Let’s go!”

“Wait,” you said, stopping him. “I need to change my pants first.”

“Oh. Right.” He was back at your side in an instant, helping you up with his hands steady on your arms.

His gaze was full of concern as he scanned your face.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Does it hurt a lot?”

“The contractions are getting closer, but they’re manageable,” you replied, leaning into him as he helped you change.

“But yeah, we really need to go now.”

At the hospital, Drew took charge, answering questions from the nurse about how far you are, are you on any special medication and filling out the paperwork as you were wheeled into your room.

Once you were settled, Drew pulled a chair next to your bed, gripping your hand tightly.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked, his voice soft yet anxious.

“I’m okay for now,” you said, though the contractions were growing stronger and more frequent.

“I didn’t realize how many needles they’d stick in me during all this.”

Drew gave a small laugh, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re handling it like a champ. I don’t think I’d survive five minutes of this.”

Another contraction hit, and you gripped his hand tightly, your breathing uneven. Drew immediately shifted closer, his voice calm and steady.

“Breathe, Y/N. In and out, baby. You’ve got this.”

Hours and hours has passed, and Drew never left your side. He held your hand through every contraction, rubbed your back when the pain became overwhelming, and even tried to make you laugh to keep your spirits up. When you hit the ten-hour mark, Drew suddenly pulled out the camcorder from his sister Brooke, who had brought it to document the big day.

“What are you doing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow despite your exhaustion.

“Making a video for Rustyn,” he said, grinning. “Something for him to watch when he’s older.”

He turned the camera to himself first, his smile lighting up the room.

“Hey, Rustyn. It’s your dad. It’s 6 a.m., and you’re really taking your time, buddy. But that’s okay, we’re waiting patiently. Well, your mom’s doing all the work.”

Turning the camera toward you, he continued,

“And here’s your mom. Look at her, look how incredible she is. The strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. You better treat her like a queen when you grow up, okay?”

Despite the pain, you laughed softly. “Drew, stop making me laugh, it hurts!”

He chuckled, then turned the camera toward Brooke, who was pacing in the corner.

“And here’s your Aunt Brooke, who’s been on the edge of her seat all night.”

“Rustyn, ignore your dad,” Brooke said, rolling her eyes. “I’m much cooler than he is, and I can’t wait to spoil you.”

When the doctor finally announced it was time to push, Drew’s nerves hit an all-time high. He squeezed your hand tightly, his other hand brushing the sweat-dampened hair from your face.

“You’ve got this, Y/N,” he said, his voice shaking slightly but full of love. “I’m so proud of you.”

The first push was overwhelming, and you let out a cry of frustration.

“I can’t do this,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “Drew, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he said firmly, his eyes locking with yours.

“You’re the strongest person I know. Just one push at a time, baby. I’m right here.”

With each push, he offered constant encouragement.

“That’s it, Y/N. You’re doing amazing. Our boy’s almost here. I love you so much.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a loud cry filled the room. Tears immediately welled up in Drew’s eyes as the doctor placed your baby boy on your chest.

Drew was trembling as he leaned over, his eyes fixed on the tiny baby in your arms.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Y/N, he’s perfect.”

You stared down at Rustyn, overwhelmed by love and relief. His tiny fingers curled against your chest, his cries subsiding as he felt your warmth.

“We did it,” you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks, happy tears.

“No,” Drew said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You did it. You’re amazing.”

The nurses congratulated you both, while Brooke captured every moment on the camcorder. Drew leaned down, his forehead resting gently against yours.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Thank you for giving me him.”

“What should we name him?” you asked softly, your voice shaky with emotion.

Drew didn’t hesitate. “Rustyn. Rustyn Starkey.”

You nodded, smiling down at your son. “Rustyn. It’s perfect.”

Drew reached out, brushing a finger over Rustyn’s tiny hand.

“Hey, buddy. Welcome to the world. We’ve been waiting for you.”

[mononijikayu]

is it new years yet? — nanami kento.

"Apparently, we're #RelationshipGoals now." "Some of them really think I write poetry about you during my lunch breaks, too. Not inaccurate, of course. But the thoughts I have of you are different." “My darling, behave.” “No <3” ".......In any case, my darling…..this one says I’m lucky to have you. Can’t argue with that."

GENRE: alternate universe - no curses au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, secret coworker romance, co-workers to lovers, romance, fluff, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, creampie, p to v sex, stairwell sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (my darling, babe, etc), possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, actor! nanami kento, actor! reader;

WORD COUNT: 6k words.

NOTE: hello everyone, this is the first fic of 2025!!! this was specifically written because of a conversation between me and @midnight-138 on the afternoon of december 31st 2024. i started progress while on a bus on the way to my grandma's house and for a bit on the 1st. i still wanted to write more for it, but i had to stop because i caught a cold. i still have a cold. and i need a massage cause i feel my body hurt real bad, cause its working hard to save my life from this cold TT TT

but that being said, i shouldn't complain too much. good things have been happening to me despite my problems. i hope that good things continue to come!!! anyway, enough yapping, i hope you enjoy this little fic. happy 2025!!! may good things, good health and happiness come your way always this year!!!

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

IT WAS ALWAYS LIKE THIS WHEN YOU AND KENTO GET TOGETHER. But it was to be expected, since you graced the screens since you were a child. Nanami Kento was like that too. Of course, it wasn’t something of a brag at all. It was just your normal.

You were lucky, you were favored like that. Kento was favored just like that. Both of you were so beloved. And especially so, in a way that they end up hoping that you both were together. 

Ever since you worked with him on Jujutsu Kaisen all those years ago, it was just too strong — the chemistry between the two of you. It pulls people in for more. They wanted a story, they wanted something that could ease their days from the mundane boredom that it was to the fun, exhilarating excitement that comes with the tea in both of your private lives.

You didn’t mind, your company didn’t mind either. Neither did Kento or his side of the aisle. It helped that you were both good friends. You had met even before landing your roles on Jujutsu Kaisen, after all. So, the ‘will they, won’t they’ between the two of you really did help your careers.

But of course, just like in Gege–sensei’s scripts, some parts are sentences with too many blank pages. And the wholeness of your relationship with Nanami Kento truly only belonged to you and him. And you were not willing to expose it to the world. Not just yet.

Yet — this does not stop them from trying to do something about that.

The studio buzzed with activity as you adjusted the earpiece in your ear, stealing a quick glance at the veteran actor, singer, producer, writer and entertainment personality that is Nanami Kento.

He stood near the stage, his posture relaxed yet impossibly refined. Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his tie a subtle but elegant shade of deep blue,everything about him just exuded a quiet confidence that made it hard for anyone to look away. 

You, however, knew better than to let your gaze linger too long. You knew too well that those are reserved for just him and you to interpret and to see. No one else should. You were as possessive about your private moments as he was. But you would never say that outloud and neither will he.

“Can you believe these two again?” a stagehand whispered slowly, behind you. It was still, of course, loud enough for you to hear. “It’s like they were made for this. If they don’t end up together after tonight, I’ll lose faith in love. Really!”

You bit back a laugh, focusing on your notes. No one knew the truth, after all. That you and Kento were already together had been for a while now. Not even your publicists or managers — hell, not even your entertainment companies, knew that this was for genuine actuality, a real thing now. But you and him liked it that way.

You had let your fans go wild with their theories over the years of course. Every post, every comment, every little interaction, every collaboration, every press tour — almost everything seemed to spark a new wave of speculation and fan shipping. 

For years now, the internet was rife with hashtags like #OurSecretLovers and #MrAndMrsNanami with fans pouring over every detail like it's an investigatory report they were doing, a documentary study. You had to admit, it was amusing at times, watching people try to connect dots they couldn’t see. 

Nanami Kento had a reputation for being rather serious, because he gets roles in that league often. But he was a silly little man, well your silly little man. And he often had the knack for finding the most random, yet oddly endearing, posts about the two of you on Twitter. During your five-minute breaks between shoots, when you were in separate rooms or on different sets, his messages would pop up on your phone, accompanied by a link and a deadpan caption.

"Apparently, we're #RelationshipGoals now."

"Some of them really think I write poetry about you during my lunch breaks, too. Not inaccurate, of course. But the thoughts I have of you are different."

“My darling, behave.”

“No <3”

".......In any case, my darling…..this one says I’m lucky to have you. Can’t argue with that."

You’d giggle to yourself, your shoulders shaking as you tried not to draw attention. It didn’t matter how serious the production you were working on either. He had a way of making you laugh even from miles away. And that relaxes you a lot.

When it was your turn, you’d send him TikToks. Fancam edits of the two of you together had exploded in popularity as of late, especially since you both played a married couple who were spies deceiving each other recently. People thought he looked so good, especially when he had his shirt off. You loved teasing him about it. After all, he was really pretty hot in those scenes. And if you were being honest, they did in fact rile you up.

"Look at us, babe." you texted once, attaching a video with dramatic lighting, a love song playing over clips of you two stolen from interviews and behind-the-scenes footage. "We’re icons."

His reply came almost immediately: "Icons, sure. But I’m just a guy who got lucky enough to be yours, you know?"

Those words made your heart swell every time. He’d always been effortlessly humble, never letting fame or admiration inflate his ego, even as his star rose. After all, you were the senpai here—the darling of the Japanese screen since childhood. 

You’d grown up in the industry, your name synonymous with household stardom. He, on the other hand, had been a late bloomer, starting as a teenager and building his career with quiet determination.

He never let the difference in your status get in the way, though. If anything, it only made him more in awe of you. He’d often remind you how much he admired your grace, how you’d navigated the pressures of fame with a poise that still left him speechless.

“You’ve been dazzling audiences since you were a kid.” he’d say, his voice warm with pride. “I’m just lucky to share the screen with you now and your life.”

And you’d roll your eyes playfully, nudging him with a smile. “Don’t sell yourself short, Kento. You’re a fan favorite for a reason.”

“Maybe.” he replied with a soft smirk. “But you’re my favorite. And that’s what matters.”

No matter how busy your schedules got, those small exchanges, be it a funny link or a sentimental text, every bit of this kept you connected. It reminded you both that beneath the glitz and glamour, what truly mattered was the quiet, enduring love you shared.

You were out of your bubble soon enough when Kento suddenly caught your eye from across the room, offering a small, reassuring smile and then a small gentle nod. You felt your cheeks turn red but lowered your head immediately before anyone was to notice. He was too good at making you feel like this. And certainly so, he was hiding his smirk under his cue cards.

“Alright, places, everyone!” the director called.

You finally stood up from your chair, taking a deep breath and calmed down. You gave yourself one more look in the mirror, trying to make sure that your cheeks were natural now. When you felt like it was, you smiled at your manager who handed you the mic and swiftly thanked them. You went to your position. Kento soon approached, his footsteps purposeful but unhurried. 

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” you replied, flashing him a smile.

You were grateful for the reassurance. Even if you were already such a big name, you still did get nervous. And even more so, with such a big show like this — the New Year Countdown, of course you could feel yourself slipping.

The two of you took your positions on stage as the lights dimmed and the opening music swelled. His fingers brushed against yours briefly as he fixed himself up, your pinkies touching. Even briefly, you could feel the warmth. He did that on purpose. You could see it in his caramel eyes. 

You let a brief smile echo on your lips. You gathered yourself as the lift came up slowly. When you both were in the sight of the gathered audiences and the cameras started to broadcast it all live, you both slipped effortlessly into your roles. After all, you both were professionals.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to this year’s New Year’s Eve Countdown!” you began, your voice bright and enthusiastic.

“Thank you for joining us as we bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new.” Kento added, his tone smooth and polished.

Your banter flowed naturally, as always. That well beloved chemistry between you is still ever so undeniable. It was easy to fall into a rhythm with him; he was your partner in every sense of the word. And that made your job tonight a little bit easier.

But of course, the real challenge was hiding the little moments that threatened to give you away that bit you kept so dear to you. You just can't help it when it comes to him. He has such a powerful pull on you and he knows it.

There were those little lingering glances, watching and feeling the way his fingers brushed yours when you handed him a card, the subtle softness in his smile when he looked at you. After all, this is the longest you could be together in your very busy schedules this year.

Still, you kept yourself in that cage. And so did he, despite his lack of patience when it comes to you and everything about you. As the night progressed, the energy in the studio grew electric.

Various music performances lit up the stage, and interviews with special guests kept the crowd engaged. Throughout it all, you and Kento remained the perfect duo—professional, poised, and completely in sync.

After nearly a few hours of composure, it came almost all too suddenly. In just a few moments, the final countdown approached, and the excitement was palpable. The two of you stood at the center of the stage, along with the other participants for this year’s event. In front of you, the crowd behind you cheering wildly, waiting excitedly for the new year.

“Here we go!” you said, your voice barely audible over the noise.

Kento leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re doing great, darling..”

Your heart fluttered, but you kept your composure. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, babe.”

The countdown soon began.

You took a breath, looking at the screen.

You held your cue cards tightly to you.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

The lights soon dimmed, and the giant screen behind you displayed the numbers as they ticked down. The crowd’s voices grew louder with each second. The emotions coming through you were indescribable. Another year had gone by. But he was still by your side, like this. And all you could pray for as the time passed into a new age — that you would always be together.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Confetti soon rained down, and the studio erupted in cheers. You turned toward Kento, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you disappeared. The look in his caramel eyes was unmistakable—warm, tender, and filled with a quiet pride that made your chest tighten.

But just as quickly, the moment passed, and you both turned back to the crowd, waving and smiling as the cameras captured every angle. People of course started to pay less attention to you both and the stage and more onto the fireworks now blurring the sky with its bright hues. You and Kento made a steady exit off the stage. 

“Another successful project, isn’t it?” you said, breaking the silence as you leaned against the wall.

Kento smirked faintly, unbuttoning the top of his shirt to loosen his tie. “They’ll be talking about this for weeks, you know?”

“And shipping us even harder, hm.” you added with a laugh.

“They’ll never know, though.” he said, his voice soft but steady.

You stepped closer, your hand finding his. His fingers intertwined with yours, the simple gesture grounding you in a way nothing else could. “They don’t need to, babe.” you whispered, meeting his gaze. “This is ours.”

Kento’s lips curved into the faintest smile as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Happy New Year, my darling.”

“Happy New Year.” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You had thought it would end there, sweet and innocent. You had thought you both were safe for one more year. But when you two are together after a long time…..it was a whole new animal. And nothing can stop such a wave in high tide from occupying something whole. 

The next tithing you know is that the internet exploded the moment the photos dropped. Headlines blared across every platform, hashtags like #FINALLYOMG and #NewYearNewScandal trending within minutes after they were taken.

The pictures were pretty damning. They were blurry but unmistakably you, disheveled and wrapped in Nanami’s coat, your hair a mess. And him? A rare sight indeed.

It was none other than Nanami Kento, usually the epitome of composure, looking uncharacteristically undone. His tie was loose, his shirt wrinkled, and the telltale bruises blooming on his neck left little to the imagination.

You groaned, tossing your phone onto the coffee table as you buried your face in your hands. Beside you, Kento sat unbothered, calmly sipping his tea like the world wasn’t on fire—or at least your career’s PR team.

“I told you we should’ve been more careful, babe.” you muttered, your voice muffled by your palms.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips quivering into a teasing smile. “You were the one who couldn’t wait with it, y'know?” he replied smoothly, setting his cup down with an elegant clink.

His tone was infuriatingly calm, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “Who was it again, begging me to fill you up? By round two, you were going—‘Kento, I need you. Right here. Right now.’ and I was happy to heed the request like always.”

Your scarlet blush was immediate, your head snapping up to glare at him. “Kento!” you hissed, glancing around the living room as if someone could overhear, even though it was just the two of you. “Not helping!”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs with the air of a man thoroughly enjoying himself. “I’m just stating the facts about, I'm the same.” he said with a shrug, his smirk widening as you shot him another flustered look. "That's not a bad thing."

Your phone buzzed again on the table, your manager’s name flashing on the screen. You sighed, picking it up only to immediately huff and toss it back down. “This is really…” you trailed off, searching for the right word but settling on a frustrated groan instead.

“Chaotic? Consequential? Hilarious?” Kento offered, his voice laced with mock innocence.

You shot him a glare that was far more affectionate than threatening. “Horrible. That’s the word. This is horrible.”

He chuckled, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on your knee. “Darling, it’s not the end of the world. Scandal or not, we’ll deal with it.”

“Easy for you to say.” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “Your team probably thinks this is great publicity for your brooding, mysterious heartthrob image. Meanwhile, I’m the one getting texts about how unprofessional it looks for ‘Japan’s sweetheart’ to be caught sneaking around with hickeys and wearing her boyfriend’s coat.”

“Unprofessional?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “It’s not like we committed a crime. We’re adults in a committed relationship. And in any case my darling....….” he added, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “You look adorable in my coat.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me. Very much." he quipped, leaning over to steal a quick kiss from your lips.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest, instead letting your head fall onto his shoulder with a sigh. “Next time, though….really.....” you muttered. “We’re finding a stairwell without photographer cameras.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Noted.”

As you leaned against your lover, the memory hit you both like a freight train, vivid and unrelenting. It had started innocently enough—or as innocently as it could between the two of you. The countdown show had gone off without a hitch, and the studio was still buzzing with post-show chaos. 

You both talked for a bit, had a cute moment and then went back to your professional mode when everyone started to surround you both again. It was like a switch, and it was easy. No one suspected a thing.

You went ahead into the dressing room, you talked with everyone. You’d been polite and professional, thanking the crew and chatting with some of the guests. But the moment Nanami Kento had caught your eye as you left the green room, something in his caramel gaze had made your pulse quicken.

You hadn’t seen him in weeks. Between his packed schedule and yours, the countdown project had been the only excuse to be in the same room together. The public facade you maintained only added to the frustration. Every fleeting touch, every shared look—it all built up, an unbearable tension neither of you could ignore.

So, when he’d quietly grabbed your hand and guided you down a quiet, rarely-used stairwell in the building when no one was looking, you hadn’t protested. You were excited, happy even. This was the chance to feel him again this close to you. 

And you were glad for that opportunity. You could feel his touch be so genuine and warm despite the heavy chill in the air, and the firm grip of his fingers around yours sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Darling, I missed you, really.” he murmured as soon as you were alone.

His voice low and rough, filled with a longing that made your knees weak. His hands cupped your face with a reverence that always left you breathless, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as he leaned in. The kiss was searing, his lips melding with yours as though it had been an eternity since your last stolen moment together.

The cold winter air bit at your exposed skin, but his touch set you alight. His coat had slipped from his shoulders in a quiet, unspoken gesture, draped over yours as his lips moved to your neck. The kisses were hot, open-mouthed, and deliberate, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin before his teeth grazed your pulse.

“Kento, babe….” you gasped, your voice trembling from a mix of the frigid air and the heat of his attention. Your fingers clutched the lapels of his suit, trying to ground yourself against the onslaught of sensations.

“Shh, just enjoy it......” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. 

His hands slid down your sides, firm but gentle as they gripped your thighs. Without hesitation, he lifted you effortlessly, pressing your back against the wall. The rough texture scraped against your coat, but you barely noticed, too focused on the way his body pressed into yours.

His strength always caught you off guard, even after all this time together. Your eager legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open as he stepped between them, his body fitting against yours like a missing piece.

“Babe!” you breathed again, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

He kissed you like a man starved, his lips leaving your neck to reclaim your mouth. The intensity of it stole the air from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to him. He was hungry, perhaps even more than you were. But you had expected that. He has a habit of yearning to touch you a lot.

“I hate not being able to touch you, with all the schedules we fucking had.” he muttered against your skin, the words tinged with frustration and longing. “Hated every fucking minute of it……”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, the silky strands slipping through your fingers as you tugged him closer. “Then don’t stop, babe.” you whispered, the plea soft but desperate. “Cause….I need you badly too. I need you so bad in me—”

He growled softly, the sound rumbling against your throat as his touch shifted. One hand remained steady on your thigh, holding you firmly in place, while the other slid beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers were deliberate, pushing aside the delicate lace of your panties with practiced ease.

When his fingers slipped through your slick folds, a gasp escaped your lips, your head falling back against the wall. He groaned softly, the sound low and satisfied as he gathered your arousal, his touch teasing and unhurried.

“You’re already so ready for me, aren’t you, my darling?” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his fingers moved with precision, finding the spot that made you arch into him.

The cold air around you was a stark contrast to the heat building between you, the quiet of the stairwell broken only by your uneven breaths and his whispered praises. It was reckless, indulgent, and utterly intoxicating—just like him.

“Kento, babe….oh!” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his fingers continued their unrelenting rhythm. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as waves of pleasure began to build within you.

“Shh, darling.” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear before trailing back to your neck. His voice was low and soothing, laced with a quiet intensity that only made your pulse race faster. “You’ll have to keep quiet for me. Can you do that?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape as he added a second finger. The stretch was delicious, his movements slow and deliberate, coaxing you higher with every stroke. His thumb brushed over your sensitive bud, and your thighs instinctively clenched around his waist.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. “That’s my good little lover, hm? My only beloved darling.” he murmured, his praise sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. “So perfect for me.”

Your fingers slid up into his messy blond hair, tugging gently as your body arched against him. The rough texture of the wall behind you was a sharp contrast to the soft warmth of his touch, grounding you as he pushed you closer to the edge.

“Kento, please, b–babe….oh!” you breathed, the words barely audible as your head tilted back, exposing more of your neck to his eager lips. “M–more…..more!”

He hummed in response, the sound vibrating against your skin. “So impatient, aren’t you? Greedy too.” he teased, though his fingers quickened their pace, curling just right to hit the spot that made your breath hitch. “I missed seeing you like this, so needy for me.”

The heat pooling in your core intensified, your body trembling as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. “I’m—” you began, but the words dissolved into a strangled gasp as he pressed his thumb harder against your sensitive nub.

“That’s it, pretty for me, so fucking pretty." He says, coaxing you like a pied piper. His voice was low and intoxicating. Everything about it just burns you as much as his touch did. "I’ve got you. Always.”

With one final stroke, the beautiful echo, that blossoming coil inside you just snapped, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body tensed, your thighs tightening around his waist as you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the cry that escaped your lips.

He held you through it, his fingers slowing their movements as your body shook with aftershocks. His other hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his lips pressing soothing kisses against your temple.

When you finally relaxed, your breaths coming in shallow gasps, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were soft, his gaze filled with a mixture of adoration and satisfaction that made your chest tighten.

“Better?” he asked, his tone light but tinged with affection.

You nodded, still too dazed to form words. He chuckled, adjusting his hold on you as he gently set you back on your feet. Your legs wobbled like jello against him, and he immediately steadied you, his hands firm but gentle on your waist.

“Careful, darling.” he murmured, his brow furrowing in concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, babe.” you managed, your voice breathless but steady. “More than fine.”

His lips quivered into a soft smile, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Good.”

As the reality of your surroundings sank back in, you couldn’t help but glance around, the abandoned stairwell suddenly feeling far less private. “We should… probably get back, babe.” you said, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “It’s getting pretty late.”

He followed your gaze, his expression calm and unbothered. “Let them wonder where we went.” he said simply, shrugging off the concern as he adjusted his coat around your shoulders. "It's none of their business."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the mischievous glint in his eyes stopped you cold. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “After all… I’m not done with you yet.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he was guiding you gently back against the wall. His lips found yours again, this time slower, deeper, igniting the fire he’d only begun to stoke. His hands trailed down your sides, their warmth chasing away the chill of the stairwell as he pressed his body firmly against yours.

“Kento, babe.” you murmured, a weak attempt to regain your composure, but he silenced you with a kiss that left no room for argument. 

“I missed you, a damn whole lot.” he said, his voice low and filled with longing as his hands slid to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly once more. "Like I always do."

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, your heart pounding as the desire you’d both tried to suppress flared back to life. He pressed against you, the hardness of his arousal undeniable even through the fabric of his pants. The teasing grind of his hips against yours drew a gasp from your lips, and he smirked, his composure slipping just enough to show his need.

"Really....." Kento effortlessly whispered to you, his voice vibrating onto you like a wave crashing onto you at sea. "We shouldn't schedule much this New Year, hm? So we can be together."

"Hm.....Kento." You echo back to him, intoxicated by his touch. "'ake time....for me, okay? I'll.....I'll do the same."

“That's the plan already, you know?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he shifted, his hands tugging at the barriers between you. “Let me take care of you, like I always do.”

Soon after that, you could feel the wet, thick head of his member pressed against your entrance, the heat and pressure stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped as he began to push in slowly, his movements deliberate, almost reverent.

It was too good, too damn easy to fall into a high to. You could feel the stretch inside of you, it made you so full. Everything about it was intoxicating, your body yielding to him as he filled you inch by inch, your walls clinging to every part of him like he was made to fit. 

It was like he was trying to make a home inside of it. Inside of you. And it just made you feel so good. A deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he buried himself deeper.

“Darling.” he muttered, his voice strained and low. “You feel so perfect.”

You whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support as your body adjusted to the delicious fullness. The sensation was overwhelming, the slight ache quickly giving way to a heat that spread through your entire body.

“Kento.” you breathed, the sound a mix of plea and surrender.

His large hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he pulled back slightly before thrusting forward again, the motion slow but unyielding. Each movement sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and the friction only made you crave more.

“God, this is so…..you feel so good.” he groaned, his voice rough and filled with need. “You’re so tight. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go slow like this with you.”

“Don’t, babe.” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “Don’t hold back.”

His carmel eyes darkened almost instantly at your words, a flicker of something primal overtaking his usual control. With a growl, he began to move in earnest, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. The sound of your bodies meeting echoed in the stairwell, a symphony of shared desire that neither of you could hold back.

The rough texture of the wall behind you only heightened the sensation, grounding you as he took you apart piece by piece. You could feel your back burn against the concrete wall as you throw your head back against it. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth as thoroughly as his body claimed yours.

“Darling, my pretty baby darling.” he murmured against your lips, his voice ragged and desperate. “You’re mine. Always mine.”

“Yes, babe. Yours….O–oh…only! Only yours!” you managed to gasp, your head tilting back as he kissed along your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. 

The coil in your core once more tightens with every spark you feel as he pushes deeper over and over in a fast pace. Everything about the pleasure you feel keeps building to an almost unbearable peak. It just felt too good. He felt too good.

His pace quickened, his breaths coming in harsh pants as his control began to slip. One hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your sensitive nub and rubbing it in quick, precise circles.

You cried out, your body arching into him as the tension finally snapped. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your walls clenching tightly around him as your release tore through you.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m close!” he groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. With one final, deep thrust, he shuddered against you, his body going taut as he spilled himself inside you.

For a moment, the only sound was your shared, labored breathing, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you like a cocoon. His forehead rested against yours, his hands gentle as they smoothed over your thighs and waist, grounding you both.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern despite the lingering haze of pleasure in his eyes.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “More than okay.”

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before gently setting you back on your feet. His hands remained steady on your waist, holding you as your legs wobbled beneath you. You leaned into him, your breath uneven, your body still humming from the intensity of what had just transpired.

But that wasn’t the end of it, of course. 

The hunger in his eyes hadn’t faded, and neither had yours. The raw desire that simmered between you was far from sated, and you both knew it. Kento’s hands lingered, his thumbs brushing soft, teasing circles against your hips as he studied your flushed face. 

“I just think that I…..” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “I still want more.”

You barely had time to process his words before your lover’s lips were on yours again, roughly consuming you in a kiss that was as demanding as it was all encompassing. Your hands quickly found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. Your body instinctively responds to the magnetic pull of his, over and over.

“We shouldn’t…” you whispered between kisses, though your voice lacked conviction. “It’s going to make people suspicious.”

“Probably not.” he agreed, his smirk returning as his hands slipped under the hem of your dress, trailing up your thighs. “But repercussions are damned when we’re hungry. I can’t stop. I know you won’t too..”

The wall pressed against your back once more as he claimed you all over again, the cool stairwell air doing nothing to cool the fire that raged between you. It was reckless, but neither of you cared. Not here, not now. Hunger demanded to be fed, and with Nanami Kento, you were always insatiable.

After a while, you were both removed from the plane of normalcy and you were both panting with joyous weariness. He presses a kiss against your jaw as you keep a steady bite on his neck. He grumbles against you as he gathers himself from seeing stars. You follow him soon after. You released his neck and started kissing his lips once more. 

When you both found yourself satisfied, you both started to make yourselves as presentable as possible. Well, at least what remains presentable and salvageable for both of you. Kento ripped too much of your outfit as much as you did. Still, you both did not care. 

“We should get you cleaned up.” he murmured, his tone tender as he placed his coat on your shoulders and adjusted it tenderly on you, to keep you warm. “I’ll call my car and then we’ll just hop in there. We’ll go to my hotel, okay?”

You nodded again, your cheeks flushing as the reality of your surroundings began to sink in. But as he laced his fingers with yours and led you back toward the main building, you couldn’t help but feel a warm glow of contentment.

Of course, things too did not go the way you both wanted once again. You didn’t know that there were many SNS photographers  and gossip journalists waiting to catch some other celebrity in that area where Kento’s car was going to be. And that’s just how you were caught, not thinking about the logistics of it all. 

But how could you? It was New Years. 

You just got mindlessly blown with really, really, really good sex.

And you were together once again with your lover.

How could you think about anything else after all that? 

Now, back in the present, the two of you sat in the quiet of your shared apartment. Nanami Kento’s calm demeanor was a stark contrast to your frazzled nerves. You sighed, looking up to your lover who presses a kiss on your forehead.

“You know this is going to be everywhere, babe.” you said, gesturing toward your phone.

He set his tea down and leaned back, regarding you with a look of quiet amusement. “Let them talk, darling. It was bound to happen eventually.”

You groaned. “Eventually I didn't need to include hickeys and a ruined coat. And oh god….. was I leaking your cum?” 

You took your phone once again to inspect, but your lover took your phone with his free hand and put it away. You looked at him, almost sulky as one would look as a child. He laughs. He presses another kiss on your hair. Kento couldn’t help but smirk. Both acts had made your heart skip a beat. 

“You look good in my coat though. I could hardly care if my cum was dripping out, darling.” he said simply. “I’m pretty sure I look just as ridiculous. You mauled my neck so happily after that first round.”

“You  do look like you’ve been ravaged.” you shot back, though your cheeks burned at the memory. “I mean, it made sense at the time….I was hungry.”

“Hm, I don’t blame you.”

You sighed. “We’ll contact our PR and everyone later, okay?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Hm.”  he said softly, his voice filled with the steady reassurance you’d always loved about him. “We’ll be fine, okay? I don’t care as long as I am with you.”

You sighed, leaning into his warm touch. “I guess the secret’s out, huh?”

He nodded, his gaze warm. “I don’t mind. As long as we're happy together, I say let them say whatever they want.”

You blinked at him. “You think so?”

“Hm.” He smiles at you. “Because no one will truly know who you are to me. That’s only mine. They’ll have a headline, but I’ll have the whole spreadsheet.”

You feel like your heart is melting with his tenderness. “I love you. So so much.”

“I love you too.” He kisses your lips, smiling wider at you.

And just like that, the storm outside felt a little less overwhelming.

[roanofarcc]

THE PAST MEETS THE FUTURE

pairing: congressmen bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: bucky wasn’t so naive as to believe is past was behind him completely, but he didn’t think he’d pull you down with him

warnings: mentions of Hydra. violence against the reader but nothing overly descriptive. reader is kidnapped. hurt/comfort. ANGST with a happy ending. some slight bucky barnes self-loathing. 

word count. 4.1k | masterlist

Bucky Barnes didn’t believe in a higher power or that everything happened for a reason; he’d been delt enough shitty cards to know that couldn’t possibly be true. Yet, he sometimes felt like you stumbling into his office, soaked to the bone from the rain with two soggy coffee cups and a resume printed in red ink, was some sort of divine intervention. 

You were a whirlwind of chaos in a never-ending brigade of meetings, conferences, and hearings. You had six alarms set because you had trouble being on time. You sometimes dropped the professional lingo in front of the wrong people. And on more than one occasion, your notes for his briefing were illegible. 

He’d been asked why he kept you around and not trade in your wide-eyed gazes for a more polished assistant who always wore matching socks and never traded in his usual coffee order to force him to ‘branch out.’ The thing was, you were far from bad at your job. Even if he couldn’t read your notes, they were more than thorough. You kept his desk clean when it started to match his scattered mind. You made sure he ate and was somehow more timely with his life than your own. You always showed up, rain or shine, like the world was still some bright, shiny thing to you. 

Most importantly, you cared. You cared about everything. From the spider who lived in your house plants to the strangers you passed on the streets. You cared about doing good and still believed that the world held a lot of it. 

Before Bucky hired you, you made coffee for men who were too good to remember your name and smiled at women who rolled their eyes when you spoke. You weren’t naive either; you knew of those things. You knew that you were bad at juggling too many things and always forgot an umbrella when it rained. You knew that there were bad people and things you couldn’t fix with a smile and upbeat attitude; that didn’t deter you, though. You couldn’t save the world or rid it of evil, but you would try, and you wouldn’t let that shake your optimism. 

That was why Bucky kept you around. Each time you waltzed through his office door, it was like the sun emerging after a terrible thunderstorm. A breath of fresh air, a gentle reminder that despite whatever skeletons he had in his closet or evil that lurked in the shadows, there would still be people like you. That was who he was doing it for, suffering through political jargon and torture in the form of galas and networking opportunities disguised behind words like ‘charity’ and ‘fundraiser.’ 

“Cinnamon or blueberry?” were the first words you said that morning, pushing the door open with your foot as you held two cups of coffee. 

Bucky glanced up from a document he’d been mulling over since he arrived just ten minutes prior. 

“Who would put blueberries in coffee?” he asked, slight humor playing in his tone. 

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you strode up to his desk and set down one of the cups. “Cinnamon it is,” you said. “And to answer your question, a genius.” 

With a light chuckle, Bucky reached for the warm cup and felt himself relax just slightly. The world of a congressman was more social than he had anticipated. He worried about spending so much time with people, his patience and social ability pulled to the brink of snapping. On top of that, when it was suggested that he get an assistant, he felt pre-annoyed at the thought of spending his only alone time with someone sharing his office. But you proved to be a nice break from his pandering and polite nodding. It wasn’t a struggle to share a space with you; it became a relief. 

When he was able to retreat to his office or kick off his day there, he looked forward to your presence. 

“A little birdie told me you won over the favor of Senator Jones,” you said, taking a seat at your desk. 

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe. If anything, he doesn’t loathe me, which is progress.” 

“I don’t think anyone loathes you.” 

“Trust me, they do, but the feeling’s mutual.” 

You eyed him for a moment before shaking your head. “I don’t think people like what you’re doing, that’s all.” 

Bucky eyed you back, the document forgotten on his desktop. “Yeah? What am I doing?” He didn’t ask it to challenge you, but rather for you to remind him. Bucky often felt lost, like he had joined Congress in a stupid misstep and mistake that he thought he could right his wrong in a different way. 

The world had always been ruled by the iron fists of politics, but the grasp only got tighter. He had felt it was either join or be squeezed to death by it. Maybe he could loosen the reins, make a difference even if it was small. But the more he got to know most of the people in the political sphere, the more he feared he had just become another cog in the machine he’d never escape. 

“Trying to change things for the better,” you said simply. “Which is more than what most of these people are doing. A lot of them have only known full stomachs, lined pockets, and a world made by them for them. But you? You know how bad things can be. And maybe it doesn’t seem like it, but that’s a good thing. People will see that, eventually.” 

He tried to let your words soothe the ache in his brain, patch the doubt in his bones, but even your sugary optimism had a hard time breaking through. 

“If they could look past my rap sheet.” There was enough blood on his hands to paint the white house red, inside and out. He’d done terrible things, not all of which could be waved away because he wasn’t in control of his mind. People had a hard time looking past that. They had just enough to elect him as he tugged on the public's adoration of veterans while running. But their support had been weakening since more eyes were on him, meaning more hands dug into his past. 

You shook your head. “When people are hung up on the past, you gotta make them focus on the future.” 

Bucky smiled, soft and comfortable. He didn’t know where his political career would lead, but he knew that, if you’d have him, he’d keep you along as long as he could. You were light and shook the gloom from his mind, which wasn’t an easy feat. 

It was odd, and maybe a little unprofessional, that he enjoyed your presence so. But you were more than just an assistant to Bucky. A friend, perhaps. Someone he could think clearly with and not throw up some mock, veiled version of himself. 

“You’ve been hanging around the speech writers?” he said, teasing. 

You laughed, a pretty sound that drowned out the drone of the city. “Maybe.” 

On your way home, you bundled your jacket close to your body, shoes clicking along the sidewalk as you strode down the familiar path. You walked the same way every day, past your favorite coffee shop and taking a turn by the little family-owned bookstore that stood strong as the city continued to grow around it. 

The walk to your apartment wasn’t too bad, something you could walk in your sleep. 

In your pocket, your phone buzzed. Picking it up with a smile at the caller ID, you answered, “Miss me already, Congressman?” 

On the other line, Bucky let out a small laugh, which you always took as a victory. 

When you first heard of the job opening for James Bucanan Barnes' assistant, people butted in with every rumor and grueling detail of the man’s complicated past. That didn’t deter you, though. If anything, it made you more interested in the position. 

You expected some brooding, short-tempered, and intimidating man to greet you when you arrived. And perhaps some people would have seen him that way, but you had a habit of noticing the little things about people that others often ignored or overlooked. 

Sure, Bucky had a resting expression that bordered on brooding. But you saw the hint of amusement in his bright eyes when you cracked an ill-timed joke or brought him some fancy flavored coffee. You noticed the way he turned his chair when the sunlight of the day peered in through the window of his office, as if he was basking in it, savoring it. You picked up on how the soft hum of the radio untensed his shoulders after a long meeting and how he abandoned the work that stressed him when you started babbling on about something only slightly more interesting. 

Despite what others said of him, or the past that haunted him, you saw a man just trying to do good and wade his way through the mountains of bullshit others set in his path. You saw someone tired but determined, and you admired that, which is why you not only stayed at the job but enjoyed it. 

“I’m looking for the print-out of Director Dean’s proposal, but can’t seem to…” Bucky trailed off, followed by rustling papers. “Find it.” 

“Did you already look through the pile on the right-hand side of your desk?” Bucky hummed in response. You thought for a moment, searching your brain for where you had set down the documents. 

As you did so, a shoulder of someone walking opposite you knocked into yours. You stumbled, but shook it off, only to be yanked back as the person passed you, a hand tugging hard on the purse resting on your shoulder. You yelped in surprise as you were spun around on the quiet sidewalk, on a nearly empty side street you knew like the back of your hand. 

Bucky said your name, but you were too distracted by the towering man with his face half-hidden by a dark colored hoodie. Before you could tell him to have your purse, keep whatever he wanted, and avoid any trouble, he grabbed your other shoulder and shoved you hard against the side of a building. 

You still had your phone in your hand, pressed against the side of your face with white knuckles. “Bucky!” you yelled frantically, a tightness in your chest as panic took hold. 

The man tore your purse from your arm, kicking it away along with the hope that he was just there to rob you. The last thing he seemed interested in was your belongings, which made your skin crawl as his dark expression blocked out the soft rays of the setting sunlight. 

You heard Bucky ask you what was wrong before repeating your name, but the man ripped your cell from your hand, using his other hand to grab your throat, applying enough pressure to make your panic burn like a wildfire through your veins. You kicked and thrashed, trying to break free, but he was strong, too strong. His finger squeezed your throat, cutting off your air. 

Tears fell down your cheeks, but you didn’t give up your struggle. You dug your nails into his hands, peeling back the skin and making him bleed, but he didn’t even flinch at the contact. He was tight-jawed and dead-eyed, choking you out on a street that had once brought you a sense of familiarity and comfort. It all vanished so fast as little black dots peppered your vision. 

Despite your efforts, you lost consciousness, succumbing to the inky darkness of the inside of your eyelids. 

Satisfied as your body slumped forward, the man dropped you onto the ground before speaking into your cell phone. “Soldat,” he said, voice low and dangerous, promising a harsh reminder to the man on the other side of the call. 

Bucky paced back and forth across Sam’s office, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

On the computer, Joaquin worked as quickly as his fingers could type to track down your cellphone, while Sam dug up any information on the man who took you. And as much as Bucky wanted to assist, he felt useless and as if every nerve in his body was firing off in the utmost uncomfortable of ways. 

He just couldn’t understand how it happened, how he could let something like that happen. 

“Bucky, you’re wearing a hole in my carpet,” Sam said. 

“I was on the phone with her, Sam,” Bucky said, stopping his pacing only to drag his hands down the length of his face. “And just a block away. I don’t understand-” 

Sam placed a warm hand on his shoulder, his face calm in the wake of Bucky’s panic. “Listen, we will find her. We know that whoever took her is only interested in using her to get to you.” Bucky scoffed, Sam’s words only sinking him further into a pit of restlessness. “Which means,” Sam continued. “They will keep her around and drop some kind of hint that’ll send you on their tail. They want a trap, but they don’t know that we know that.” 

The rational side of Bucky knew that Sam was right. The people who took you only targeted you to lure him, or rather the Winter Soldier, into whatever scheme or trap they had set up. Yet, Bucky had no idea what they’d do to you in the meantime. Taking you alone was enough to swarm him with guilt, but if they hurt you in the process? He didn’t know how to handle that in a ‘congressman’ fashion, only in a Winter Soldier-like fashion, and he had a feeling that was what whoever took you wanted. 

But, God, he was angry and worried and couldn’t stop thinking about how bleak the world- his world- would be without you in it or if that traumatizing event bled the optimism right out of you. 

“I think I got something!” Joaquin shouted, peaking around his monitor. 

You were in shock; that was the only real way to describe it. A numbness coated your body, not even allowing panic to break through. You just felt nothing, which you weren’t sure was better or worse than panic, fear, and something even worse. 

Binds cut into the skin of your wrist and ankles, holding your hands behind your back and legs together. The concrete floor was cold, pressed against your cheek, a conflicting temperature to the sweat on your trembling form. 

You didn’t know where you were, and only half remember how you got there. From lazily dragging your eyes around as much of the place as you could without moving your head from where it rested on the ground, you knew you were in a room, dark with no windows, and all concrete. It smelled damp and old, and there was a door on the far side you knew had to be locked. 

A part of you begged to try it away, to let yourself at least try to find a way out. But the numbness was debilitating, keeping you in place. You were scared that if you moved, the numbness would break and you’d feel the full surge of panic. 

You hadn’t seen anyone, which was probably a good thing. Yet, you itched to know where the hell you were and who the hell took you. And why? 

The questions replayed in your mind on a loop, again and again, until your thoughts were interrupted by sudden commotion coming from the other side of the door. The boom of voices intertwined with gunfire shattered the numbness and wrapped you up in a panic that bled into your bones. 

You shook, heart beating so fast in your chest it was hard to breathe. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to sit up, but crying irritated your bruised throat, only making you cry harder. 

Once you were seated upright, you kicked your feet and pushed yourself back to the far side of the room until your back hit the wall. 

The noise grew louder, getting closer to the door before it rattled. 

Something between a sob and a scream tumbled from your lips as you struggled against the ties on your wrist. Each movement hurt, and something wet started to drip from your wrists down your hands, but you didn’t stop, trying desperately to get your hands free before whoever was on the other side of the door entered. 

But the binds were too tight and refused to give away as someone broke through the door and stumbled inside, resulting in another, more guttural scream from you. 

You were crying too hard to see much in the darkness of the room, terrified of what was going to happen to you. 

However, instead of the long list of horrible things you expected to occur next, a soft voice said your name. Soft and familiar, you realized, as they said it again. 

Blinking back some of your tears, you cleared your vision just enough to see a head of black hair and baby blue eyes come level with your eyesight. 

“B-Bucky?” you croaked out. 

He nodded, close enough in front of you to touch, but his hands remained at his sides as he kneeled. “It’s me,” he said, reassuringly. “You’re okay now. You’re safe.” 

You crumbled at his words, crying harder, but not because you were scared; you were relieved. He slowly reached out, setting a warm hand on your knee. “I’m going to cut your legs and hands free, okay?” He didn’t make a move until you nodded and tried your best to stay still as he pulled a knife from his pocket. 

Bucky cut you loose, first your legs, then your hands. The second you hand control of your limbs again, you turned to face him with a tear-streaked face drenched in gratefulness, too. Without hesitation, you hooked your arms around his neck and pressed your face into his shoulder. To you, in that moment, he was the safest place. He had found you, came for you. He told you that you were safe, and you believed him without hesitation. Your thoughts were only solidified as his arms wrapped around you, firm yet carefully holding you. 

After you had calmed down a little, Bucky had helped you out of the building, bidding a brief thank you and goodbye to Sam and Joaquin, who stayed behind to take care of the ex-Hydra operative who still had unfinished business with the Winter Soldier who lay dead in the warehouse. They wanted to ensure he was working alone and had no other tricks up his sleeve, allowing Bucky to accompany you back to your apartment. 

Guilt chewed at Bucky as he took your spare key from your shaking hands and opened the door. The bruise around your neck was more prominent in the light of your apartment, molted reds and growing blues in clear hand prints. Dried blood circled your wrists like sick bracelets, and you hadn’t stopped shaking since he found you. 

And it was his fault. Every mark on your body was his fault, and it made his stomach churn. You were only taken because you were close with him, and the ghost of his mistakes still clung to his shadows no matter how long he’d been fighting for the light and freedom from the Winter Soldier. 

That part of him was rid from his mind, but not from the world. There were still people out there who either wanted the Winter Soldier to pay or to bring him back to do their bidding. Bucky could handle that, though, or he thought he could. But it had never dawned on him that they could use the few people he, Bucky Barnes, had grown close to as a weapon against him. 

If he had known that, he never would have grown so fond of you, never wanted to have placed you in even the smallest amount of danger. And he should have known better, but he became too captivated in a life semi-normal- as normal as it would get for someone like him- to realize he still had skeletons clawing to get out of his closet. 

He felt so guilty that it made him nauseous. 

Bucky helped you onto the couch before he glanced around your kitchen, spotting a clean rag folded beside the sink. He soaked it in warm water before returning to you, kneeling in front of the couch. 

Wordlessly, you gave him your hand and he, ever so carefully, cleaned up the dried blood from your wrists, muttered an apology each time flinched. 

Once he was done, Bucky stood up and turned just slightly to step away, but you caught his wrist. There was a startling fear in your eyes, something that struck him violently, bringing even more of an ache to his gut. “Don’t leave,” you whispered, voice as shaky as the rest of your body. 

God, Bucky didn’t want to. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want you to quit. He didn’t want to ever not see your bright and shining face every morning for as long as he could keep you around. But that wasn’t fair to you. It was selfish, and he had been proven just how selfish in one of the worst ways possible. 

He gently squeezed your hand. “This…” he began, but trailed off, the words caught in his throat for a moment. “This was my fault.” 

“What?” You didn’t let go of his hand, only held it tighter as if keeping him in place. 

To the best of his ability, he explained, guilt weighing him down with each word so heavily he thought he’d fall right through the floor. He knew you, and most people, knew of his past- the little ugly bits and pieces. And while the Winter Soldier was dead, there were people out there who would never accept that, going to measures as extreme as plucking the people he cared for off the street to add weight to Bucky’s conscious. He told you how your connection to him, despite it being nothing but a job, put you at risk, which he should have calculated. 

He said he was sorry, maybe too many times, but it couldn’t make up for the tremble in your figure or bruises on your skin. 

Your silence cut through him, hot but understandable. He had already started to picture his office without you, dark and too quiet. He had already started to picture his life without you, drab and cold. You were like the sun, and he was already saying goodbye, giving you up because not only could he not fathom ever putting you in danger again, but because there was no conceivable way you’d stay after that. 

“Bucky,” you said his name too softly, he had to look away, distract himself with a spot on your wall. But then you said his name again and tugged on his hand that you, for some reason, were still holding. 

“You found me,” you then said. 

He shook his head. “You should’ve never needed to be found in the first place,” he countered. 

“Would you still have looked for me if some random person who didn’t know you at all took me?” 

Bucky looked at you, brows furrowed and confused. “Of course,” he answered like a reflex because he’d look for you no matter what or when or where. 

Despite your puffy eyes and bruised neck, your lips quirked up in a small smile. “I don’t blame you, Bucky.” 

“You should.” Because it was his fault. 

But you shook your head and stood up, body unsteady as you clutched onto his hand before taking his other. “You found me, and I’d trust you to do it again.” 

Bucky stared at you. He couldn’t understand the words you were saying. Trust was earned, and what had he done to earn yours? 

You let go of his hands, and for a moment, he thought you had come to the same conclusion he had; he didn’t deserve it, not after what had just happened. But then you hugged him, holding tight with your head on his chest. His hands hovered, shaking just slightly, before he hugged you back with such delicacy. 

“I trust you,” you muttered into the fabric of his shirt. “But…” Bucky's breath hitched, expecting the next words from your mouth to confirm his own thoughts. “But I need you to trust me too.” He felt his heart tighten as tears started to dampen his shirt. “And I need you to stay, please.” 

There was no world in which he could’ve said no to you in that moment. Not when you were crying and holding onto him. 

With his heart drumming in his chest, and guilt retreating just enough to let him nod his head. It wouldn’t leave, not for a while anyway, but it released its hold enough for him to whisper, “I will.”

[thebearer]

making the bed |carmen berzatto x reader| part one

prompt: carmen's stressed. food critics, a newborn baby, balancing work life and married life and now dad life; he's bound to break, everyone knows it. but no one ever thought he'd lash out on you.

or, part one of the devastation fic. based off this ask from the other day. two more parts to come.

contains: mega angst. mega angst, with no resolution in this part. hurt, no comfort (in this chapter, will be later in part 3). mean!carmen, very mean. mom!reader x dad!carmen with newborn teddy. fighting, language, carmen says mean stuff he doesn't mean. past mentions of trauma, family trauma, mikey mentioned. very angsty and a little heavy, please read at your own discretion. word count- 3.5k+.

"Are you ok?"

Carmen now understood why that phrase used to send Donna into such a blind rage, lips pursing and jaw clenching more and more every time he heard it. First at work, then with you, it felt never ending.

It was beginning to feel like critic season with how many were coming in, snooty and demanding to be impressed. It couldn't have come at a worst time, right in the middle of busy season with the start of the holidays. Days at The Bear were filled with frantic panic, running around, making sure everything was perfect, accounted for, and Carmen always had the sinking feeling it wasn't- that he'd forgotten something, messed something up. 

It wasn't rare for him to work himself up like this, a normal that you always warned him about, but he'd always had a solitude. As long as he'd known you, he'd had a place to go, to unwind, to let himself rest and reset with you. And he still did, it was just shared now with a newborn.

Dorothea Michelle. Teddy, for short. The light of his life, yours too. Nearly two months old with a set of lungs that sounded much louder, much more developed than that. Nights were long, sleepless, spent trying to lull Teddy back to sleep, awake even if he wasn't up with her. Carmen couldn't allow himself the selfishness to relax, to rewind, to "take it easy" like everyone told him to. At work, he was the boss; at home, he was a dad.

"Fuck, fuck," Carmen's sleepy stare was broken by a lick of bubbling heat, the lamb's roux popping with the high heat, splashing all over Carmen's chef whites.

"Jeff, c'mon," Tina clicked, shaking her head, moving the pan to lower heat. "What're you doin'?"

Carmen grit his teeth, snatching a rag off the stainless steel counter tops, scrubbing the burgundy stain, huffing when it only spread the stain.

"What happened?" Sydney turned, looking from the burnt sauce to Carmen's stained chef shirt. "Oh,"

"Do we have a spare coat?" Carmen huffed, throwing the rag down with a firm smack against the counter.

"I don't think so, Carm." Sydney shook her head. "You took the last ones home with you two days ago. The wine-"

"-I know, Chef, I know." Carmen snapped, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I-I can't fuckin' serve the critics lookin' like this. With shit all over me- fuck."

"Hey, easy, easy," Richie turned the corner, his hands held up. "What's goin' on?"

"Jeff got sauce over him. He doesn't have any clean clothes." Tina muttered, irritated that she had to fix his mess, more irritated that he wasn't taking care of himself. You have a baby, Jeff, you need to rest and take some time, she'd told him. Carmen only waved her off.

"Okay, okay, hey, that's no problem." Richie's voice raised, lifting over Carmen's. "You go home and change, get your spare, check on my beautiful goddaughter, and then come back with your A game. Yes?"

Carmen didn't even humor him with a snarky remark, yanking his coat off and stomping towards the office to grab his things. Richie and Tina looked at each other, shaking their head gently.

"Kids runnin' thin, T." Richie muttered with a sigh. "He's gonna break. It's gonna be bad."

"Yeah, he is. Gonna wear himself out before then." Tina shook her head. "Jeff needs a vacation." They both jumped at the slamming of the backdoor, Carmen's angry exit shaking the foundation.

"Needs to be fuckin' medicated. Fuckin' lunatic." Richie scoffed, rolling his eyes at Carmen's dramatics.

The drive home was filled with silence, Carmen's iron grip on the wheel, tearing through the traffic towards the house- his house, his home. 

Home, but it didn't provide the same comfort that it usually did. Carmen's shoulders still stayed tense, buzzing with rage, not dissipating when he thought of you, or of Teddy, knowing you'd both be there, excited to see him. 

You jumped at the sound of the car door slamming, peeking out the window to see Carmen's parked next to yours, furiously stomping up the front steps. You frowned, grabbing the baby monitor, walking towards the front door.

Carmen nearly hit you with how fiercely he flung the door open. "Woah," You reached for the door, stopping it before he could flick it shut. "Carm, don't slam it. Teddy's asleep. I just got her down." You frowned at him, shutting it slowly.

Carmen looked at you but didn't speak, looking through you with a rage that had your spine tingling before he finally broke his gaze, stomping towards the laundry room. "Carm? What’re you doing home? Don’t you have dinner soon?" You hesitated slightly, lingering in the doorway with an uncertainty you hadn’t felt with Carmen before. 

Carmen didn’t answer, his jaw still ground tight while he rummaged through the clean clothes, carelessly unfolding and shifting the folded clothes.

"Carmen," You said more firmly, caching his gaze. He didn't speak still, just stared at you- through you. "Are you ok?" You lifted a brow, features softening in worry.

Carmen paused, eyes closing, shoulders tensing in agitation. Are you ok? His ears rang, a familiar rage that he hadn't felt in years bubbling up deep in his chest. Frustrated and blinding and rampant, heat rushing through his veins, pulling himself further and further from reality into someplace different- someplace darker in his mind. 

"What's wrong?" You pressed, he could barely hear it, ears ringing at your question. "Did something happen? Did the critic come-"

"-Where's my chef whites?" Carmen barked, cutting you off, his chest tightening more and more with every heavy heave of his chest. You flinched at his tone.

"Uh, I-I haven't seen the whites. I washed your white tee-"

“-You what? Y-You what?” Carmen spat, eye widening with a wild, raged glint in his eye. Your stomach flipped and fell with fear, stepping back instinctively. 

“I-I washed your tee, Carm, that’s all that you left in the laundry basket-” 

"-Are you fucking kidding me?" Carmen boomed, his head spinning, body buzzing with rage. Your breath hitched, frozen in fear at the anger in his tone, the roar of his voice bouncing off the walls, echoing through your ears in a painful drum. 

Carmen moved, snatching the dirty clothes basket, dumping it into the ground with a shake until the dirty chef coat fell on top. He gripped the basket, flinging it across the room with a hard throw. The final push to his bad mood that sent him right over the edge, crashing into a pit of blinding fury, aggravation, breaking him from the inside out.

"Fuck!" Carmen roared, his voice shaking the walls, your breath leaving your lungs in a trembling exhale of fear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! This is- This is- Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” 

You tensed in shock, gripping the baby monitor in fear, maybe surprise, as it started to buzz to life with Teddy's startled whimpers. Her small cries pulled you out of your frozen state, something deeper than fear replacing the ache in your stomach. 

"Carmen-" You gaped, voice wobbling with uncertainty, taking slow shuffled steps towards the stairs. “Carmen, calm-calm down. Ok? Calm down.” 

“Calm down? You want me to fuckin’ calm down?” Carmen sneered, an angry red flush blossoming in splotchy deep hues up his neck, towards his cheeks. “You don’t do shit, nothin’ that I fuckin’ ask for! Just sit around all fuckin’ day an-and I’m supposed to calm down?” 

“Carmen,” Your voice wobbled, throat tight with tears, hurt and fear strangling your words. “I-You didn’t ask me to wash them. I-I didn’t know. They weren’t in the hamper-” 

“-I shouldn’t have to ask you to wash them!” Carmen roared, eyes so wide you thought they might pop right out of his head, neck vein protruding on exemplifying his rage. “You know what I’m going through! You know how much fuckin’ stress I’m under! I go to that-that shit hole, an-and work my fuckin’ ass off so you don’t have to! Then I come home, and I-I can’t even get a second of peace!” 

“Stop,” You hiss, finally regaining your composure, his words fully sinking into you  now, feeling the full effect of them. “I-I just had a baby. I’m still on maternity leave taking care of a baby- our baby, and I’m tired too. But I’m not yelling at you-” 

“-Oh, right. Right.” Carmen laughs sarcastically, humorless as he runs his hand down his face. It felt mocking, left you feeling small and too vulnerable for your liking. “Because in between your napping an-and feeding, you couldn’t stick a fucking jacket in the wash, right? You’re so busy.”  

“What is wrong with you?” You snap, hoping he can’t hear the tears in your voice, the way your voice shakes with emotion. 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?” Carmen scoffs, throwing his hands out. “I get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then I come home so I can go back and work my ass off some more, and-and you can’t do one simple fuckin’ thing? You can’t help me out? And then you wanna know what’s wrong with me? When you sit on your ass all fuckin’ day-” 

Teddy’s piercing wail pulls you out of your shocked trance, nose and throat burning with hurt filled tears you refuse to shed. Instead, you turn, climbing the stairs on shaky legs, the sound of Teddy’s cries growing louder and louder. Anchovy watches you from the top of the stairs, sensing the tension, your upset, sliding against your leg as if to comfort you. 

Carmen scoffs, hands buzzing and trembling with rage, the ringing in his ears growing louder and louder with each of your footsteps on the stairs and down the hall. He can barely hear Teddy’s sobs, hands threading through his hair, pulling at his scalp. He sees you walk towards the bedroom, quickly, hugging Teddy to your chest. 

“Oh, don’t go fuckin’ do it now!” Carmen roared, your ignoring him only infuriating him further. “It won’t be ready in time now. I’ll just look like a fuckin’ idiot for the critic tonight! Not that you care! Why would you, huh? I-I mean just our livelihood, just our fuckin’ income!” 

You swallowed back your tears, head tilting towards the ceiling, hands shaking with every shove of your things into the overnight bag. Just enough to get you through the night, the next day. A few essentials, Teddy’s spare onesies, a charger, your wallet- you stopped mid-shove of your items into the weekender bag, the sun’s rays catching in your wedding ring. Your heart fell, more and more, you weren’t sure how that was even possible. 

Carmen’s furious voice was still booming from downstairs, ringing and shaking in his furious fit. Richie and Sugar both warned you about Carmen’s tantrums, brought them up to embarrass him, tease him about it until he was red faced and hissing hushed threats at them. You never, never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be on the receiving end of one. 

You jumped, another slam of something Carmen had thrown, maybe hit in a fit of rage, causing Teddy to wail louder, Anchovy skittering nervously away. Tears leaked out of your eyes, twisting the ring off your finger, setting it on Carmen’s bedside table. Pulling the carrier out of the closet, Anchovy got in much easier than usual, which you were thankful for. 

Carmen was gripping the marble of the countertop when he heard you again, walking from the bottom of the stairs, quick steps towards the door to the garage, Teddy’s voice nearly hoarse from her crying. You kept your head high, tunnel-visioned towards your car, ignoring his heavy breathing and frantic pacing. 

“Wha-What are you doin’?” Carmen’s voice was softer now, still with a jagged edge that was cutting and harsh. The car door opened, the baby carrier hooked into the car seat. 

“Hey, wha- what are you- where’re you goin’? What’re you doin’?” Carmen’s heart dropped in a damning rush of hour, stumbling on heavy legs towards the garage. You ignored him, shushing Teddy gently, running a calming hand over her wet cheek, trying to coax her paci into her mouth. 

“Baby, no-no, no. Hey, no, I-I- What-” Carmen’s chest felt tight, mind numbing and racing, stuttering nervously. You reached for your bag, his hand reaching to grab the strap. “Whe-Where’re you-”

“-Don’t touch me.” You hissed, teeth bared, eyes shining with tears. Carmen flinched, pulling his hand back like he’d touched a hot stove. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.” You sneered, pinning him with a watery glare that had his stomach turning in sickening fear. 

“Baby, hey, w-wait-C’mon, d-don’t-You don’t, you don’t need to do this, ok? I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Carmen choked out the words, frantic and unsure, his hands shaking when they ghosted over you back just for a moment. Wanting to touch you, to hold you, to grab you and keep you from leaving, but too scared to. Instead, he grabbed the car door you flung open, holding it when you tried to yank it closed. 

“Let go.” You hissed, sniffling back wet, snotty tears of fury and hurt. 

“Please, don’t-do-don’t do this. Please, baby, I-I’m sorry.” Carmen begged, blue eyes deepening with the burning red hues of tears, bloodshot and lashes wet. “Don’t-Don’t do this-” 

“-I didn’t do this.” You sneered, leaving Carmen flinching at your words. “Don’t you dare try to say this was me. After how you just talked to me? The shit you said to me in there? You think I’m going to stay?” Your voice cracked with emotion, lips pressing together to keep a cry in. 

“No, no, no, no, no, baby, please. Please, ju-just come inside. Come inside, please? Please, don’t-” 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that. To say that kinda stuff to me. That hurt, Carmen. That was mean.” You glared at him, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes. “I don’t care if you’re stressed. I don’t care what’s going on- nothing, and I mean nothing, warrants you talking to me like that. Just because you fucked up, because you forgot to ask me to do it, because you’re stressed out- I don’t care what it is. You don’t talk to me like that, say those things when I’ve been home all day taking care of my ch- our child.” You nod back towards the sniffling baby, whimpering and crying half heartedly, her little eyelids drooping with sleep that was interrupted. 

Carmen felt sick, his knees tightening in fear, he was sure they might give out, that he might fall to the ground right there. Looking at the tiny baby, lip jutted and shaking in the mirror hooked on the back of the seat, then back at you, eyes red-rimmed and glaring at him with a hurt filled anger. 

“Don’t-” Carmen’s chest shook, a white-knuckled grip on the door. 

Your own hand curled around the door’s inner handle, yanking it away from him. “Move,” You hissed, pulling again. 

Carmen wasn’t sure why he let it go, why he let you shut it, locking the door in case he tried to open it again. Why he let you pull out of the driveway, why he didn’t stop you, why he didn’t run after you, only taking soft shuffles down the drive like a zombie as you drove away. Standing in the drive, Carmen swallowed down the spit that pooled in his mouth, stomach churning, sure he was going to be sick. 

He managed to trudge back to the garage, mind racing and far away, the ringing in his ears dulling but still deafening. It felt like he was in a dream- a nightmare, a hallucinating trance that felt like a sick, sick dream- Carmen was hoping it was. That he’d wake up and find you next to him asleep. That he could hug you, pull you into him, nose buried in your neck, still warm from your slumber. 

As the sun began to sink low into the sky, minutes turning into hours that Carmen sat motionless in the garage, staring in a trancelike state, he realized that this wasn’t a dream or a nightmare. No this was his reality, a horrific reality that he’d made into his own. Carmen sat, eyes trained on the concrete of the garage, voice racing and blending in his mind- his words, yours, Teddy’s cries, Natalie and Richie’s, flashbacks of his mother screaming fits. 

He didn’t move, frozen in chilling, eerie fear. What ifs and terrifying possible scenarios, consequences to his own actions that left him feeling sick, hands trembling. A spiraling of fears that only drug him deeper and deeper with every haunting replay of his outburst. Even the flashing of headlights turning into the driveway, filling the garage with light, didn’t pull him from his trance. 

“The fuck is he- Cousin!” Richie roared, laying on the horn. Carmen didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge that he heard it, only stared. Richie frowned, turning the car off, throwing the door open. 

“Cousin? Carm? What-What are you doin’? Dinner service started an hour ago. Syd is freakin’ the fuck out.” Richie threw his hands up, walking towards the man who still didn’t move. Richie’s heart skipped, flashbacks of Mikey flooding into his vision, parallels of the two brothers blurring before him. 

“Yo, Carm, you-you good?” Richie stepped into the garage, his spine tingling with icy fear. It was quiet, an eerie, unsettling quiet. “Cousin, hey, what-what’s wrong?” 

Carmen's chest rose and fell, tighter and tighter. He was suffocating, head spinning and mind racing so fast he felt light headed. He could barely hear Richie’s voice over the noise in his head, Richie’s hand shaking his shoulder finally breaking his trance enough to meet his eyes, rounded in fear filled question. 

“Carmen, what’s wrong? Is it- Don’t fuckin’ tell me it’s the baby. What the fuck is goin’ on-” 

“-She left.” Carmen’s voice shook, raspy and scared. His tongue still felt too thick, head still spinning. He wasn’t even sure he said it, Richie’s widening eyes the only thing confirming that he had said it. 

“What? Who-Who left? Who?” Richie looked around, like the clues might be there, sure that Carmen wasn’t talking about you. No, he wouldn’t- he couldn’t. Not you. 

Carmen’s breath hitched, a strangling of a sob caught in his throat, running his hand over his face. Richie didn’t miss the way it trembled, shaking even as it rested over his eyes. Your car was gone, the house too quiet, no baby Teddy crying, nothing but silence was left. 

Richie’s heartbeat crawled into a rapid, scared pace. “Why? Wh-Why would she-” Richie looked at Carmen, eyes wide but still, reading his expression. “No. No, Cousin, no. What-What did you do? Carmen,” Richie grabbed both his shoulders, shaking him lightly until he met his gaze. “What did you do?” 

Carmen’s face began to crack, behind his eyes, Richie could see flashbacks of something- something he didn’t know what, but whatever it was, it was painful. That was evident by the fear that glossed over Carmen’s eyes, realization and horror. Carmen’s shoulders shook, frame rocking with a sob he tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Deep cries, guttural sobs breaking out of his frame, heels of his hands pressed to his eyes, fingers curled and clenched around his greasy curls in agony. 

The damning realization flooded over him, that you’d left. 

You’d left, you’d taken Teddy, taken Anchovy- you’d left because he’d driven you away. His angry outburst, petulant, mean, hurtful- he’d been so cruel to you. You. His wife, the love of his life, mother of his child, the one person who loved him endlessly without stipulations or boundaries, the one person who truly understood him. 

And he’d driven you away. 

He wished he could blame his mom, his dad, his family for fucking him up so severely, maybe Mikey, even, for leaving him the shit show that was the restaurant, making his anxieties worse and fuse shorter. But sitting in the empty garage, Richie standing above him in silent shock, his sobs and angry sniffles echoing off the cement floor, Carmen knew he had no one to blame but himself. 

He’d fucked up. Really fucked up. Fucked up in a way that made all the other times look obsolete. 

Carmen had fucked up, and for once, he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t avoid it, ignore it, deflect it like other times. Half hearted apologies and promises of change wouldn’t work, you weren’t here for him to even try to give them to you, and he didn’t know where you went. 

Carmen wasn’t sure where you went, how to fix this, why he’d done what he did, and a million other things that raced through his mind. What he did know, sitting in the too quiet garage, chest stuttering with heaving cries, was that he’d do anything. 

Anything, to get you back home. To make it right. To fix this and make it up to you. 

He wasn’t sure how, but he’d give up everything. Anything. His restaurant, his dreams, his hopes, his life, at this point, to make it up to you. 

[ayumigotabittoolonelyquitted]

Stay alive, that's an order

Synopsis : After a brutal battle, Levi finds you barely hanging on,and he’s pissed. You ignored his order to stay alive, and now he’s stuck between anger and relief, trying not to show how bad it actually scared him. (You aren't death don't worry)

Warning ⚠️ : hurt / comfort, angst , mentions of death and violence, some graphic details. Spelling mistakes

Pairings : levi Ackerman x reader

Words count : 14k+!

“They’re all dead.”

The words hit like a blade to the gut. You tightened your grip on your ODM gear, knuckles turning white as the scout delivered the grim report.

Five teams. Five entire teams, wiped out before they even had a chance to fight.

Your squad stood in stunned silence outside the walls, the wind carrying the distant, guttural roars of Titans. The plan had been simple,split into units, clear the Titans blocking the eastern route, and secure a safe path for the retreating supply wagons. But now…

Five teams were gone.

“Shit,” someone whispered.

Your heart pounded as you turned to Levi. He stood at the front, arms crossed, eyes shadowed by his lowered head. His silence was far more terrifying than anything else.

Then, finally, he spoke. “Change of plans.” His voice was steel. “We don’t retreat. We finish what they started.”

Your stomach twisted, but you nodded. There was no running now,not when their deaths would be in vain.

Levi’s sharp gaze flickered over the squad. “Stay close. Don’t do anything reckless. If you die, it better be after killing at least five Titans.”

A weak attempt at dark humor, but no one laughed.

You checked your blades, feeling the familiar weight of steel in your hands. The air was thick, suffocating, but you pushed it down. Fear wouldn’t save you. It never had.

Levi’s voice cut through the tension. “Move out.”

And with that, you launched into the air.

The moment your squad arrived, it was clear why the others had fallen.

Titans. Too many of them.

They lumbered through the ruins of what had once been an abandoned outpost, bodies crushed beneath their massive feet. You spotted at least fifteen, and those were just the ones in sight.

Your breath hitched. No way had the scouts been prepared for this.

“We’re going in,” Levi ordered, already unsheathing his blades. “YN, you take the left flank. Flank and slice, don’t linger.”

You nodded. Focus. Breathe. Kill.

The battle exploded around you.

You hooked onto a nearby rooftop, gas propelling you forward as your blade sank deep into the nape of the first Titan you reached. Blood sprayed, hot and thick, but you barely registered it as you twisted midair, avoiding the grasp of another.

Levi was a blur beside you. Effortless. Precise. Death itself.

A scream tore through the battlefield. One of your squadmates,gone in an instant.

No time to look. No time to grieve.

You cut down another Titan, barely dodging its flailing arm before moving on to the next. Your heart pounded, lungs burning as the fight stretched on.

And then

Something was wrong.

Levi’s voice snapped through your earpiece. “Regroup! NOW!”

You turned, eyes scanning for him,only to freeze.

From the treeline, a second wave of Titans emerged.

Your blood turned to ice.

You were outnumbered.

The second wave of Titans hit harder than you expected.

You barely had time to breathe before the first one lunged,massive, fast, and hungry. Your instincts kicked in, and you fired your hook into the nearest rooftop, propelling yourself into the sky just as its hand crashed down where you had stood.

“YN!” Levi’s voice cut through the chaos. You turned just in time to see him slicing through a Titan’s nape in a perfect arc, blood spraying across his uniform. His movements were precise, deadly,there was no hesitation in him.

You wished you could say the same for yourself.

You tightened your grip on your blades and dived down, slicing through another Titan just before it could grab one of your remaining squadmates. The battlefield was nothing but blood, screams, and chaos.

And then you heard it.

A scream,too close.

You whipped around just in time to see one of your comrades Lena,caught in a Titan’s grip. Her eyes locked onto yours for a split second before

CRACK.

The Titan bit down.

Your stomach lurched, bile rising in your throat as her body went limp. Gone. Just like that.

There was no time to grieve.

You forced yourself forward, moving on autopilot, dodging, slicing, killing but it was clear now.

This wasn’t a battle anymore. It was a massacre.

"Fall back!" Levi's voice rang out through the earpiece. "Regroup near the treeline!"

But you were too far. Separated.

Your gas was running low, and your muscles burned with exhaustion. You cut down another Titan, barely avoiding its grasp, when

Your wire snapped.

A Titan’s stray swipe hit your gear, sending you spiraling. Your body slammed into the roof of a broken-down building, pain exploding in your ribs. You couldn’t move.

Shit.

The ground trembled as a Titan lumbered toward you. Its mouth hung open, ready to devour, and for the first time, real fear sank into your bones.

You had no gas. No mobility. You were trapped.

Then, in a blur of black and silver

Levi.

He came down like death itself, his blades slicing through the Titan’s weak point in one clean motion. The body crashed beside you, shaking the earth, but he was already moving,ggfgrabbing you by the straps of your uniform and yanking you up.

"Can you move?" His voice was sharp, but underneath ityconcern.

You gasped, trying to steady your breath. "Yeah... just winded."

He didn't look convinced, but there was no time to argue.

More Titans were closing in.

Levi’s grip on your arm tightened.

"Stay close."

then you were moving. (Back to life)

You and Levi fought back to back, moving like two parts of the same blade.

He was ruthless, fast, untouchable. Every slice of his swords ended a life. Every move was calculated, precise.

You did your best to keep up, lungs burning as you pushed through the pain in your ribs. You weren’t as fast as himyno one wasbut you knew how to fight.

You trusted him.

And hetrusted you.

But the Titans weren’t stopping.

The second wave had turned into a flood, and your squad was gone.

It was just you and Levi now.

"We're getting surrounded," you breathed, dodging a Titan's swinging arm. "What now?"

Levi didn’t answer immediately. His sharp eyes scanned the battlefield, calculating every possible escape route, every possible failure.

Then, he made his decision.

"We cut through."

You barely had time to react before he grabbed your hand and launched forward.

You lost count of how many Titans you killed. Five? Ten? Twenty?

Your arms were numb. Your body was on fire. Your ODM gas was almost gone. (Second gear brought by levi)

And then

Your blades snapped.

The Titan in front of you lunged, and you had nothing left to fight with.

You braced for impact, but Levi was faster.

He tackled you out of the way, the two of you crashing onto a nearby rooftop. His body shielded yours from the impact.

"Dammit, YN!" His voice was harsh, but when you looked up at him,his eyes told a different story.

He wasn’t angry. He was scared.

Levi Ackerman, humanity’s strongest soldier, was scared.

For you.

You tried to push yourself up, but pain shot through your leg. You looked down,a deep gash, bleeding badly.

Shit.

You weren’t getting out of this. Not alive.

Levi knew it too. His jaw clenched, his breath ragged. You could see it in the way his hands trembled, just barely.

For the first time, you saw the man behind the soldier.

And it broke you.

"Levi..." Your voice was hoarse. "Go. Leave me."

His expression darkened. "The hell I will."

More Titans were closing in. You were both running out of time.

You grabbed his wrist, nails digging into the fabric of his uniform. "Please. If one of us has to make it out of here, it should be you."

His eyes burned into yourszanger, frustration, something deeper, something he couldn’t say.

And then,chis grip on you tightened.

"Stay alive."

His voice was lower now. Almost desperate. Raw.

"That's an order."

Your breath caught.

It wasn’t just a command. It was a plea.

Even as the world burned around you, even as death loomed closer, he was still fighting for you.

And if Levi Ackerman was willing to fight for you

You couldn’t give up.

Not yet.

Not today.

The world was nothing but blood and chaos.

Titans surrounded you, their massive shadows looming over the crumbling buildings. You could hear their heavy, labored breaths, smell the stench of rotting flesh.

Your leg was useless, your gas was running low, and your blades were broken. You were a soldier with no weapons left to fight.

But Levi was still standing.

And he wasn’t backing down.

He was a force of nature.

With a flick of his wrist, he launched forward, a blur of black and silver. His swords tore through Titan flesh with effortless precision, movements too fast for your eyes to follow.

He cut down one. Then another. Then another.

But there were too many.

A Titan lunged from the side, and for the first time Levi didn’t see it coming.

“Levi—!”

You didn’t think. You just moved.

Your body slammed into his, knocking him out of the way just as the Titan’s hand came crashing down. You hit the ground hard, pain exploding in your already battered body.

But Levi,Levi was safe.

He was on his feet instantly, blades ready, but when he turned to you his face twisted in something close to fury.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?!” His voice was sharp, but his eyes his eyes were terrified.

He crouched beside you, checking for injuries with frantic hands. His fingers ghosted over your bleeding leg, your trembling arms. His jaw clenched when he realized how bad it was.

You laughed weakly, though there was no humor in it. “Had to save your ass at least once.”

“Shut up,” he snapped. But his voice was hoarse.

A Titan's roar echoed behind him, and his entire demeanor shifted.

The fear disappeared. The hesitation was gone.

What replaced it was cold, unrelenting fury.

He stood up, rolling his shoulders. His grip tightened around his swords, his stance lowering. Every movement screamed death.

And when he spoke his voice was lethal.

“I’ll kill them all.”

Levi Ackerman, Humanity’s Strongest Soldier

You had seen Levi fight before.

But never like this.

This was war.

He moved like a shadow, faster than your eyes could track. Every movement was precise, calculated deadly.

A Titan lunged at him he was already gone. He reappeared at its nape, his blades tearing through flesh before it even realized what had happened. Blood rained down, but he was already moving on.

Another Titan swiped at him he ducked, twisting midair, his blades slicing through its wrist before plunging straight into its weak point.

One by one, they fell.

But Levi wasn’t just fighting.

He was protecting you.

Every time a Titan got too close to your fallen form, he was there slaughtering, shielding, refusing to let them reach you.

And in that moment, you realized something.

He wasn’t fighting for humanity.

He wasn’t fighting for victory.

He was fighting for you.

Levi landed beside you, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Blood so much blood stained his uniform, his skin, his hair.

But he wasn’t done.

He grabbed your arm, pulling you up despite your protests.

“We’re leaving.” His voice was strained, but it left no room for argument.

You tried to move, but pain shot through your leg. Your body swayed, and his grip immediately tightened.

You saw it then the brief flicker of panic in his eyes.

Levi Ackerman didn’t panic.

Levi Ackerman didn’t hesitate.

Levi Ackerman didn’t show fear.

But right now he was afraid.

For you.

You opened your mouth to say something, but then

A Titan’s shadow loomed over you.

Everything happened in a split second.

Levi turned.

The Titan lunged.

And it went for you.

Levi’s entire body reacted before his mind could.

He threw himself in front of you, blades up, but not fast enough.

The Titan’s hand swiped at him full force.

Levi went flying.

Your scream tore through the battlefield.

The Titan reached for you next.

You barely had time to process before your hands found the hilt of a fallen soldier’s blade.

You had no gas. No ODM. No strength left.

But you had this.

And if Levi was still breathing, you weren’t going to die here.

The Titan’s fingers closed around you, lifting you off the ground but your blade was already sinking into its hand.

It roared in pain, releasing you just enough for you to drive the sword straight into its eye.

It staggered. You twisted the blade deeper.

Then

A flash of silver. Again

Levi.

He was back.

Despite the blood dripping down his face, despite the pain slowing his movements he came back for you.

And with one clean strike, the Titan was dead.

The battlefield was silent.

The only sound was your ragged breathing. Levi’s labored exhales.

You collapsed to your knees, gasping, too exhausted to move.

Levi caught you before you hit the ground.

His arms wrapped around you, firm, steady,warm. His forehead rested against yours, breath shaky.

"I told you," he whispered. His voice wasn’t sharp this time. It was raw. “Stay alive.”

Your vision blurred, exhaustion finally winning.

But before the darkness took you, you felt it.

Levi’s hand, gripping yours. Desperate. Steady. Unshaken.

And then,nothing.

Pain.

That was the first thing you felt when you woke up.

It crept through your body like fire, every muscle aching, every breath sharp. The scent of antiseptic filled your nose, mixed with something warm.

You tried to move. A mistake.

A sharp gasp left your lips, your body flinching at the pain in your ribs.

Instantly,a shadow moved beside you.

"You're awake."

Levi’s voice.

But not the one you were used to.

It wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t irritated. It wasn’t barking out orders or insults.

It was quiet. Low. Tense.

Your vision cleared, and there he was.

Sitting beside your bed, arms crossed, dark circles under his eyes. His uniform was still stained with dried blood,yours and his. His hair was messier than usual, like he had run his hands through it a hundred times.

His gaze was locked onto you, intense and unreadable.

But you knew Levi.

And this was the look of a man who had just been through hell.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then,Levi stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back.

“Do you have any idea how fucking stupid that was?”

The anger in his voice caught you off guard. Your throat was dry, but you still managed a weak, “Good to see you too.”

Levi didn’t laugh. He didn’t even roll his eyes.

He just stared at you.

Then he turned away, hands gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white.

“You almost died,” he said, voice low. “Do you understand that?”

The air in the room shifted.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the sharp pain in your ribs. “Yeah. I know.”

“No. You don’t.” Levi’s jaw clenched. He took a slow, measured breath like he was trying to stop himself from breaking something.

Or maybe… from breaking himself.

You had seen Levi angry before.

You had seen him furious, ruthless, cold.

But this?

This wasn’t anger.

This was something else.

“Levi…” Your voice was softer now. “I-”

“Don’t.”

His hands trembled for just a second before he clenched them into fists. He still wasn’t looking at you.

“Do you think this is a game?” he asked. “Throwing yourself in front of me like that?”

“I wasn’t-”

“You did.” He finally turned, and his eyes

His eyes were burning.

“I could’ve handled it. I always handle it. But you-” His breath hitched, just barely. “You shoved me out of the way. And then you were on the ground. Bleeding. Barely breathing.”

You swallowed hard.

Levi took a step closer.

“You almost died,” he repeated. His voice cracked this time. “And I-”

He stopped himself.

His hands were shaking.

Levi Ackerman’s hands were shaking.

And suddenly, you understood.

This wasn’t just about you almost dying.

This was about him almost losing you.

You forced yourself to sit up hissing in pain but Levi was there immediately, pressing you back down.

“Stop moving, idiot.”

But his hands on your shoulders were too tight. Like he was scared that if he let go, you’d disappear.

You looked up at him, really looked at him.

This wasn’t Levi, Humanity’s Strongest.

This was Levi, the man who had lost too many people.

And almost lost you, too.

Your voice was quiet. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Levi’s breath hitched again. His hands didn’t move from your shoulders.

“You did,” he admitted.

That was it.

That was the moment everything changed.

Because Levi didn’t admit things like this.

He didn’t talk about fear, about loss. He didn’t let people see the cracks beneath the surface.

But he was letting you see them now.

Your throat tightened. “Levi, I-”

His fingers curled into the fabric of your blanket.

“just please,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

And for the first time,you understood what he really meant.

It wasn’t just about the mission.

It wasn’t just about orders.

It was about you.

Levi wasn’t asking you to live for the sake of humanity.

He was asking you to live for him.

Neither of you spoke for a while.

The only sound was your breathing, the distant murmurs of soldiers outside.

Finally,Levi sat back down beside you, exhaling slowly.

“…I stayed here all night,” he muttered. “Hange tried to drag me out. Didn’t work.”

Your lips twitched. “That’s probably the first time Hange ever failed at something.”

Levi gave a soft snort, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I meant what I said,” he added after a pause. “Stay alive.”

You met his gaze.

“I’ll try.”

His jaw clenched. Not enough.

“You will.”

And then,Levi did something that made your heart stop.

He reached for your hand.

Not roughly. Not like an order.

Softly. Carefully.

Like he wasn’t sure if he had the right to.

His fingers brushed over yours before finally settling warm, steady, firm.

And you squeezed back.

Byee

[shuaflix]

driving lessons for dummies

❝ i can't parallel park, but i know all the lyrics to 'driver's license' by olivia rodrigo now. ❞

PAIRING ▸ kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, weed consumption, mc has the worst luck imaginable, soonyoung is down horrendous, there is a minor car crash, very minor description of blood, hurt/comfort, almost car sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), grinding, oral (fem. receiving), praise, lots of teasing, overstimulation, pet names (both sexy and unsexy), friend group shenanigans

SUMMARY ▸ you've finally passed your written test and gotten your permit after six failed attempts. eager to get your license while attempting to avoid overpriced driving lessons, you enlist the help of kwon soonyoung, who only requires a STIIZY pod as payment.

PLAYLIST ▸ new romantics by taylor swift • see you again by tyler, the creator, kali uchis 

WORD COUNT ▸ 16,834 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is representation for all the girlies out there who can't drive. not me but

ONE OF THE MOST COMMON STEREOTYPES PERPETUATED AGAINST WOMEN WAS THAT THEY WERE DEEMED TERRIBLE DRIVERS. 

That, or they just flat-out couldn’t drive to save their lives. 

This sexist notion dated back to when the automobile was created, when driving was physically demanding work and men insisted they handled operating the vehicles themselves. Now, though, plenty of women drove just fine, but misogyny was the only thing keeping the stereotype relevant. 

After all, the only reason why women were considered “bad drivers” was because a man decided they were.

Screw all the women who revolutionized the automobile industry, right? Despite them being highly discouraged to take on the labor required of men, it was Bertha Benz who drove the furthest in a motorized carriage than anyone else. It was Anne French who was the first woman to receive a driver’s license. It was Marget Wilcox who invented the car heater, Mary Anderson who created windshield wipers, and Hedy Lamar who designed the wireless transmission technology that made the innovation of the GPS possible.

No matter how high that glass ceiling was, even if a woman demolished and obliterated it to pieces, there would always be a man out there who would push her right back down. 

Unfortunately, you were nowhere near smashing that glass ceiling because you had failed your permit test six times. 

Yes, it was embarrassing, but you were determined to get your license. At your age, it was getting ridiculous that you had consistently failed your permit test this many times. Plus, you were getting tired of asking all of your friends for rides. You envisioned picking them up in your new car with your shiny new license, grinning smugly at the shocked looks on their faces.

“I don’t think God wants you on the road,” Wen Junhui, your best friend since middle school, said as he dropped you off at the DMV. “If you fail a seventh time, I would personally just use public transportation for the rest of my life.” 

“If a sixteen-year-old can pass it without studying, then I can pass it,” you insisted. “Plus, I read the entire manual last night.”

“Yeah, except the sixteen-year-old passed it on their first or second try, and this is your seventh.” 

“Well, seventh time’s the charm, right?” 

“Right,” he replied, doubtful. He stopped the car in front of the DMV to let you out. “Well, good luck. I’m gonna go get gas and I’ll come back for you.”

“Thanks, Jun!” you chirped. “I swear I’ll pass it this time.”

“Sure.”

“Have some faith in me, please.”

When Junhui drove away, you steeled your nerves to mentally prepare yourself—not for the test but for interacting with the DMV employees. You weren’t a fan of being verbally abused by them, especially after having them roll their eyes at you the last six times you had to tell them you failed. 

But today would be different. 

Thankfully, the DMV wasn’t too busy today. You only had to wait twenty minutes until they called your number. After handing them the proper paperwork, you were directed to the computers to take the permit test. 

Since you were an adult, you only needed to get 30 questions correct out of 36. You had learned your lesson by now, so you actually studied the handbook this time. It took a while to admit to yourself that you weren’t blessed with common sense. 

First question. Wrong. 

Second question. Wrong. 

Third question. Wrong. 

What was happening?

By the time you had gotten five questions wrong in a row, your hands were shaking. The pressure started to set back in, and you were terrified about failing this exam a seventh time. Junhui would be so disappointed if you told him you failed again. 

You felt the back of your shirt cling to your skin once the sixth question was incorrect. This was ridiculous; you had studied, but these questions were strangely specific. It was like someone at the DMV had it out for you. 

Maybe Junhui was right. Maybe God didn’t want you on the road. 

You felt like your brain had entered auto-pilot to protect yourself from the discouraging loss of your permit yet again. You clicked through the rest of the questions mindlessly, hardly thinking about anything until— 

You passed! 

The white screen flashed in your face for about a minute before you could register it properly. All you could do was blink and stare until you pinched your wrist to make sure you weren’t seeing things. 

Had you really gotten the rest of the 30 questions right after your consecutive failed attempts? You were so worked up over the six you missed that the rest felt like a blur. Maybe the problem was that you had been overthinking the test this entire time. 

“I did it,” you breathed out to the woman at the counter, still in disbelief. “I passed.” 

“Congratulations,” she replied with little enthusiasm. She turned to grab papers from her printer, stapled them together, and handed you your brand new permit. “Have a nice day now.” 

“Thank you so much,” you replied, slightly distracted as you inspected your learner’s permit with wide eyes.

You had been waiting for this day for so long, and here you were, holding the permit you had spent years trying to obtain. You could only imagine how thrilled your parents and friends would be once they found out. 

Speaking of friends, when you checked your phone, you saw that Junhui had texted you five minutes ago that he was parked outside. He probably expected you to walk out with a gloomy expression and slumped shoulders, but you had a skip in your step this time. You finally had good news for your best friend. 

“Jun!” you yelled before you even opened the door to the passenger’s seat. “Jun, Jun, Jun, Jun!”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said sympathetically, but something about his automatic response definitely felt practiced, “you’ll get it next time.”

“No, Jun, I passed!”

His eyes went wide. “You did?!” 

“I did!” You squealed and practically jumped into the seat. Sinking back, a wide grin stretched across your face. “I finally did it.” 

“Yo, congrats.” Junhui grinned. “I guess the seventh time really is the charm, huh?” He started his car to pull out of the parking lot. “Well, now you just have to pass the driving test.” 

Your face fell.

You had been thinking about the permit test for so long that you forgot there was an actual driving component, too. 

First of all, you had never driven a vehicle in your life, not even illegally with friends. Second of all, you had terrible depth perception, which was probably not a great flaw to have if you wanted to drive. Thirdly, everything you prepared for the permit test had completely ejected from your brain. Your road sense was back to utterly clueless. 

“I’m gonna fail,” you said, defeated. “Jesus Christ, Jun, I didn’t even think about the actual driving test!”

“Relax, driving’s easy once you get the hang of it,” he replied. “What you should really be worrying about is how expensive those lessons are.” 

“How much are they?” 

“Uh, like, close to a few hundred.” 

“Total?” 

“No, per lesson.” 

“Per lesson?!” you cried. “Just for someone to tell me where to turn and brake? I can’t afford that!” 

“I’m guessing most of it is because they’re willingly sitting in a car with someone who doesn’t know shit about driving,” he explained, “but, yeah, it’s a crazy price. You do need to get that license before your permit expires, though, and you should probably get it done while you’re still here for college so you don’t run over the elementary schoolers back home.” 

You buried your face in your hands and let out a loud groan. “How am I gonna dish out hundreds of dollars? I don’t have that kind of money to spend when I have rent to pay off.” 

The corner of Junhui’s mouth lifted, more so exasperated than amused when he said, “I think I might know a guy.” 

Kwon Soonyoung. 

Junhui sent you his number after he dropped you off at your apartment. Apparently, Soonyoung was one of his good friends who also happened to have a side gig where he gave out driving lessons at a discounted price. Of course, the downside was that Soonyoung wasn’t exactly certified to teach people how to drive, but he was allegedly a good driver.

His lessons were normally for high schoolers, and he charged their parents around a hundred. For adults over the age of 21, though, he had a special offer that you couldn’t resist. 

You texted him to ask if he had any open spots for you. He took a few days to reply, but you eventually got a two-hour slot for the next week. You weren’t sure how effective his lessons would be, but you figured you would give it a shot since he was your age and giving out classes for cheap. 

When the day of your lessons rolled around, you were slightly anxious while you were waiting for him to arrive. You needed Junhui to reassure you for hours last night, promising that no, Soonyoung was not going to kidnap and murder you. He was a student at your university, actually, and he was a public health major who never had a murderous thought in his life.

soonyoung (driving instructor): i’m outside your house 

Okay, if he wasn’t a murderer, then the least he could do was not text you like one.  

After replying with an omw that autocorrected to On my way! and left you feeling very distressed that your communication sounded overly-enthusiastic, you worked up the courage to walk outside to his Honda Accord. 

“Hi,” you greeted shyly when you opened the door. “You’re Soonyoung, right?” 

Honestly, you didn’t care if he was Soonyoung or not. The man sitting in the driver’s seat was probably one of the most attractive people you had ever laid eyes on. Even if he wasn’t Kwon Soonyoung, you would happily let him kidnap you. Maybe you’d even blush a little because he picked you of all people to kidnap. 

He turned to look at you, seeming a little surprised that you opened the door but smiling nevertheless. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re Y/N?” 

When you nodded, he got out of the driver’s seat and motioned for you to take it. You skirted around the car to sit inside while Soonyoung took the passenger’s seat. 

You also got a glance of his off-brand, beige Fear of God Essentials sweater that read M.I.L.F. Hunter instead. Classy. 

“So, you came to me because you didn’t wanna give up your semester’s worth of college tuition for driving lessons,” Soonyoung said with an overwhelming air of confidence. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” You huffed. “Here, I heard this was your payment.”

You handed him a paper bag, not bothering to take out the receipt from the dispensary. Inside was the King Louis XIII STIIZY pod. One gram. 

“Ah, good. You know your stuff.” 

Soonyoung hummed as he examined the box, and you were just wondering when he would get to business and start showing you the controls in his car. You were slightly overwhelmed by his impressively relaxed demeanor. Maybe it would have been better if you settled for an uptight woman in her sixties. Pretty boys were always trouble. 

“You made the right choice coming to me. I’m a much better driver than those hags from the driving schools around here,” he continued. It was like he could read your mind; it was almost terrifying. “Plus, way less likely that I’ll get a heart attack in the passenger’s seat.” 

He was a total weirdo, but he was hot, so you supposed it canceled out in some obscure, mathematical sense. 

“That’s… good to hear, I think,” you replied. “So, are you, like, good at this?”

“Are you kidding? I’m basically the Lebron of driving.”

“I see.” You nodded along, unsure. “I don’t watch football, so…” 

“He plays basketball, but close enough.”

After spending about thirty minutes explaining all of the controls—from hand signals, to the dashboard, to the indicator—Soonyoung decided it was time for you to start driving on your own. You didn’t expect to move this quickly; actually, you didn’t think you’d even start driving until your second lesson. Thankfully, you gathered most of what Soonyoung had taught you, so you mustered up the courage to press your foot on the brakes and move the gear shift into drive. 

You looked over at Soonyoung expectantly, waiting for him to give you the green light to start driving. The boy only raised a brow at you, wondering why you hadn’t started driving yet. 

“Today would be nice,” he remarked.

“Uh, should I start now?”

“Sorry, I don’t have a starting pistol for you or anything.” He made a finger gun with his hand and pretended to fire. “On your mark, get set—”

“Okay, going,” you replied quickly, flushing with embarrassment. You pressed down on the accelerator and gasped as the car lurched forward. “Sorry!”

“Slowly!” Soonyoung cried out, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle, which you found highly unnecessary and felt somewhat offended about. “Press down slowly—gentle.”

The next hour of your lessons was a learning curve, to say the least. In your defense, it was your very first time driving, so you didn’t know you were actually supposed to look behind you before you switched lanes. Although Soonyoung kept reminding you, his instructions kept slipping your mind because you were focusing on several things at once. 

You sucked.

You were probably honked at around eight times and flipped off twice. It was a humbling experience, really. There was only so much a DMV victim could take, so you eventually had to pull over and try not to cry while Soonyoung consoled you. 

“C’mon, you probably didn’t even do anything wrong. It’s just their road rage,” he said, trying to duck his head to get a better look at you while you had your hands covering your face. “Plus, all those assholes were driving way over the speed limit. You were the responsible one back there.”

You sniffled, sucking in a shuddering breath before you gathered your composure. It wasn’t like you to be so vulnerable in front of a stranger like this, but it was probably the nerves of your first time driving coupled with the nerves of driving (and potentially damaging) someone else’s car. 

“You’re right.” You wiped at your damp cheek. “Fuck them. They couldn’t pass a driving test if they tried.”

“Well, technically, they already have.” 

“Not helping.”

He smirked. “Are you good to keep driving? Or do you wanna wrap this session up for today?” 

“Let’s keep going.” You set the car in drive again, but you looked over at Soonyoung before you did anything else. “Thanks, by the way. I’m guessing most of your students don’t usually pull over to cry during their lesson.” 

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t say it’s happened before, but it’s not a bad thing.”

It was a good thing that you were able to hide your blush from Soonyoung. With the clearly embarrassing impression you were making on him, it would have been mortifying if he found out that he was also making you flustered. 

For the next thirty minutes, you slowly started to get more comfortable behind the wheel. Soonyoung was thankfully not overbearing as most instructors normally were, so you didn’t end up flinching every time he spoke. 

He made light conversation to make you feel at ease, which you appreciated greatly. At first, you just nodded or hummed in response, as you were too afraid to do anything but stare at the road ahead, but you eventually steeled your nerves and replied with actual words. Soonyoung was a natural conversationalist, so you didn’t have to worry about your awkward pauses or stumbling over your words. He led the conversation, sharing random tidbits of his life that you wouldn’t expect to hear from someone the first time you met them. 

Everything seemed to be going perfectly normal until Soonyoung started queuing songs to play. 

The problem wasn’t the music. The problem was that Soonyoung had stopped teaching you to drive, allowing you to fend for your life while he sat back and relaxed. You weren’t sure if normal people were able to loosen up so easily while being driven by a complete amateur. 

Soonyoung must’ve been from a different planet, you decided. Some planet out there that deemed him the Lebron of driving. 

“Uh,” you started, “aren’t you gonna tell me where to go?” 

Soonyoung opened his mouth, as if he was going to ask what you meant, but then his demeanor completely shifted. 

“Pull over to the curb,” he instructed, “now.”

“What?” Your pulse raced, and you were scared that you had fucked up somehow. You checked your mirrors to make sure you hadn’t cut anyone off or anything, but there was no one behind you. Swallowing thickly, you pulled over to the curb as best as you could and parked the car, shooting your driving instructor a nervous glance. “Did I do something wr—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Soonyoung whispered, silencing you with a wave of his hand. “This is the best part.”

Your jaw clenched as Olivia Rodrigo’s vocals were drowned out by Soonyoung’s off-key singing. This was why he wanted you to pull over? 

“I knew we weren’t perfect but I’ve never felt this way for no one!” he belted out. “C’mon, sing with me—oh, and I just can’t imagine how you could be so okay now that I’m gone!”

You folded your arms across your chest. With a reluctant sigh, you gave in and started singing along with Soonyoung. 

You weren’t exactly ready for your driving test, but after two more lessons with Soonyoung, you felt more confident about being on the road. Sure, you almost ran over a pedestrian once and drove on the wrong side of the road the other day, but at least you were capable of handling a vehicle mostly by yourself. 

There were times where you wondered if your driving lessons would be more productive with a proper instructor, not Soonyoung. He surely knew how to drive (save for when he went over the speed limit and only slowed down when he saw a cop car), but he was more focused on messing around instead of actually teaching you. You were pretty sure that he saved his proper instruction for high school students with parents, and you were just someone he liked to mess around with. 

That didn’t stop you from scheduling another lesson with him, though. It was going to be another trip to the dispensary for you.

“How’re the driving lessons going?” Junhui asked, still nose-deep in his anatomy textbook. 

The two of you were preparing for your upcoming midterms in a study room, but all you could think about was the little notification on your phone screen telling you that Soonyoung requested to follow you on Instagram. How long were you supposed to wait until you accepted his request? Would it be weird if you followed him back right away?

“I can’t parallel park, but I know all the lyrics to ‘Driver’s License’ by Olivia Rodrigo now,” you answered. “I’ve also been honked at thirteen times.”

You counted. Mostly because each honk kept you up at night, staring up at your popcorn ceiling, wondering why everyone (a driver who probably didn’t even remember your face) hated you. 

“Ah,” Junhui mused, smiling a little to himself, “so it’s going well.” 

“I wouldn’t say that,” you mumbled. “But he’s nice. He doesn’t make me feel like crying. I think my dad would make me cry.”

Your phone buzzed while Junhui started going off on a tangent about how your dad was, indeed, a scary man. (There was an incident during parent’s weekend in freshman year where your father walked into your dorm room to see Junhui sitting on your bed. Completely misunderstanding the situation, your poor friend got lectured for almost an hour.) Soonyoung’s contact name flashed across your screen, and you were itching to read his text. 

Once you and Junhui settled back into studying, you turned on your phone to check your messages.

soonyoung (driving instructor): i see you in the first floor study room soonyoung (driving instructor): come to the second floor study room for a good time

Terrifying. But you were intrigued. 

After excusing yourself for a moment, making some lame excuse about needing to use the bathroom, you slipped out of your study room to head upstairs. You realized you had never actually seen Soonyoung on campus before, so a strange feeling of excitement consumed you, making your body feel light and your chest feel giddy. 

Outside one of the study rooms, you heard echoes of laughter and conversation, which made you feel instantly nervous. You were invited, though, so you steeled your nerves and opened the door cautiously. 

“Hi,” you greeted quietly, glancing over at the three strangers before your eyes landed on Soonyoung, who grinned once he saw you. 

The four of them weren’t exactly studying. Two of them were fiddling with the flatscreen fixed to the wall, trying to connect a Nintendo Switch to it; one of them was sliding joy-cons into controllers; and Soonyoung, who had his legs kicked up on the table previously, was standing up to walk over to you. 

“You came!” His tone made it seem like he was doubtful that you’d actually show up, so you were glad to prove him wrong. “Oh, yeah, this is Seungcheol and Mingyu”—he gestured toward the two who were setting up the TV, and then he pointed at the guy with the joy-cons—“and this is Seungkwan.”

“Hey,” the three of them chorused in broken unison. 

“Wanna play Smash Bros with us?” Soonyoung asked. “Perchance.”

“You can’t just say ‘perchance,’ dude,” one of the guys setting up the TV said. 

“I think it’s applicable, Mingyu,” the other guy said, whom you now deduced was Seungcheol. “Conceivably.”

“There’s no reason for either of you to use the words ‘perchance’ or ‘conceivably’ at all,” Seungkwan chimed in. 

“Ignore them,” Soonyoung said, holding the door open wider for you before you even gave him an answer. “They’re just idiots.” 

“You’re the biggest idiot here!” Seungcheol protested. He turned to you and explained, “He’s, like, the final boss idiot.” 

Mingyu snickered. “Final idiot.”

You found yourself giggling a little, distracted by their banter as you walked inside the room and sat down in one of the empty chairs. Soonyoung slid into the one next to you, even though he was sitting next to Seungkwan earlier. You were glad that none of his friends made you feel like your presence was strange or unwelcome, but you still couldn’t help but feel awkward. 

While Soonyoung was asking Seungcheol if he had finished connecting his Switch to the TV, you pulled out your phone to text Junhui. 

y/n: i’m playing smash bros??? with soonyoung on the second floor y/n: wanna join?

jun: my anatomy midterm is in 3 days, 2 hours, and 26 minutes and all i know rn is that tissues are to wipe my tears after i fail this exam, negative feedback is all im getting back from my professor, and brain cells r what im deficient in  

y/n: ok damn i’ll take that as a no

jun: i’ll be in here for the next 3 days whenever u decide to come back 

y/n: it’ll take an hour tops y/n: pls don’t camp here for 3 whole days 

“Jun’s not coming,” you announced. 

You heard a chorus of groans. 

Great. They were all Wen Junhui fanboys. 

After Mingyu and Seungcheol finished setting up the Nintendo Switch, you watched Soonyoung and Seungkwan play the first match. Seungkwan chose Villager (which was sort of fitting for him, actually) and Soonyoung chose Donkey Kong. You honestly had no idea how Smash Bros worked, so you were completely lost while you watched their characters fly around and knock each other off the platform. 

Soonyoung was screaming at one point, threatening Seungkwan with several promises to knock him out, which never happened. Seungkwan, taking a calmer approach, focused on using several commands while Soonyoung was already jumping out of his chair and on the floor. Mingyu and Seungcheol were on the sidelines, yelling out strategies for them at random and laughing occasionally. 

The match ended with Seungkwan being victorious. Soonyoung had gotten so riled up during the game, but he took his defeat like a champ, congratulating his friend and laughing off his loss. 

You were just amused at how quickly he switched up. 

“You want a turn?” Soonyoung asked you, handing you his controller. 

You hesitated. “Uh, I’m not really good at these kinds of games.”

“I’ll help you.”

You were up against Mingyu. He was a formidable opponent at first glance, but you hoped he wasn’t as competitive as the others. Maybe he would show you mercy because it was your first time playing. 

You held the controller with stiffly-bent arms, holding it up like you were reading a map. Soonyoung didn’t laugh at you, to your relief, but he gently pushed your hands down and showed you what all of the controls were. 

You chose the pink blob named Kirby. You weren’t a gamer by any means, so you had no idea what purpose the pink blob served other than being cute. No one judged you for your selection, though, which you assumed was a good sign. 

“Don’t go easy on me,” you mumbled to Mingyu, who grinned in response. 

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Your heart raced when the countdown started. It felt like the longest three seconds of your life, and you were starting to regret choosing Kirby, who looked harmless in comparison to Mingyu’s character: Samus. You kept telling yourself that it was okay if you lost; you knew how to handle failure since you were pretty bad at virtually everything. 

Soonyoung was cheering for your victory as soon as the match started. He was an absolute angel for doing so, but you were afraid you were going to disappoint him. 

In Mingyu’s defense, you did tell him not to go easy on you. Unfortunately, the guy really wasn’t holding back at all. In the blink of an eye, you were already astral projecting off the screen. 

“Oh,” was all you could say. 

Maybe you should have swallowed down your pride and asked Mingyu to go easy on you.

Seungcheol playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon, dude, it’s her first time.”

“Yeah, why’re you being a dick?” Seungkwan joined in, seeming more excited over having an excuse to target Mingyu than to actually defend you.

“She told me not to go easy on her!” he exclaimed, but no one allowed the poor boy to stand up for himself. With a pout, he turned to you and said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” You laughed. “I’m just bad at this.”

“Here, I’ll help you for the next round.” Soonyoung scooted closer to you until his knee brushed against yours. You couldn’t help but feel a little hot all of a sudden, but you made no effort to move away. 

The next round started with you dropping from the revival platform. You felt like your brain went into autopilot. You just heard Soonyoung talking in your ear while his fingers kept brushing against yours, telling you which controls were best for fighting Samus. Everything was going in one ear and out the other; you were so flustered that you could hardly think straight. 

You snapped back into reality when you heard three of them screaming, and you looked over with wide eyes to see Mingyu looking shell-shocked himself. 

You won. 

Soonyoung smiled. “See? You’re a natural.”

“No, it was all you,” you replied, shaking your head. It really was all thanks to Soonyoung because you had no idea what the hell you did. “It was probably just beginner’s luck.”

But, even so, a smile tugged at your lips, and you felt elated from your triumph. You thought back to Soonyoung’s hands brushing against yours, nearly swamping yours in comparison, and your chest felt a little warm. 

A little too warm. 

You put a pause on driving for a week and a half, informing Soonyoung that you had to focus on midterms before you could think about your driving lessons. Both caused you extreme distress, so you needed to cut one out temporarily.

Junhui really did camp out in the library for three entire days. You brought him food every day and forced him to go back to his apartment to take a shower. When you watched over his study room for him, Soonyoung would swing by and ask how you were doing. 

Brief interactions, but they were nice. 

You managed to get through your midterms without a single cry session in a bathroom stall. It was honestly a bigger success than your first Smash Bros win. 

Soonyoung and you grew a little closer. Two weeks ago, if someone told you that you would be FaceTiming your driving instructor every night before bed, you wouldn’t believe them for a second. Mostly because you assumed you would get a driving instructor who was pushing retirement age, and video calling someone that old at night sounded a little concerning and borderline adulterous.

You learned a lot about him. His go-to breakfast or midnight snack was Frosted Flakes, and he felt a little empty inside if there wasn’t a box of the cereal in his cabinet. He was loud most of the time, but he often got shy or quiet in loud settings; it was highly dependent on the crowd he was with. His love language was sending you pictures of cute animals and saying it was you two. (You also didn’t like calling this a “love language” because that implied there was something deeper than platonic feelings, which you were too afraid to come to terms with.)

“You have to start driving again now that your midterms are over,” Soonyoung said over the phone one night. He was sulking while you were doing your skincare routine, keeping your phone propped up on your desk. “You’re gonna start forgetting what you learned, and then we’re gonna be back to square one.”

He was (slightly) high tonight and you were the first person he called.

You were pretty sure that had to mean something. Unfortunately, you were too guarded to connect the pieces that were laid out perfectly for you.

“You just miss me, huh?” you joked. 

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Nothing could have prepared you for that response. 

You felt your cheeks burn, and you had to physically turn around to hide whatever expression was betraying you. You pretended to examine something behind you, but there was clearly nothing there, so you just looked like an idiot. 

You didn’t know what you were feeling. There was a clear difference in your emotions when you spoke to Soonyoung versus when you spoke to his friends. 

You didn’t want to compare Soonyoung to Junhui, who you knew since middle school, but you knew that you didn’t feel anything funny in your chest when you interacted with Seungcheol, Seungkwan, or Mingyu. They were great to be around, of course, but it was only Soonyoung who made you walk with a little skip in your step.

You hadn’t had a proper crush in years. Now, you felt like you were overthinking everything and analyzing every little interaction that could possibly be meaningless. 

It had only been a few weeks, but you supposed there was no exact timeline for these sorts of things—whatever this thing was. 

Whatever it was, though, you were in danger.

“Tomorrow, then,” you said once you regained a sliver of your composure. “Pick me up after your classes.”

“Sure.” He rested his chin in his palm, staring at you with an amused expression. “I’ll bring flowers.”

Possible Ways To Respond: 1. “You’re too sweet! Thank you.” 2. “Flowers? What’s the occasion?” 3. “Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, huh?” 

You went with a secret fourth option.

“Please don’t. I’m allergic.”

True to his word, Soonyoung picked you up after his classes the next day. 

You were pretty sure your lessons had gone over the regular quota, so you stopped by at the dispensary earlier to pick up another pod for Soonyoung. He didn’t look as though he was expecting anything when you got in the driver’s seat, though. In fact, he was perplexed when you handed him the paper bag. 

“What’s this?” he asked, growing sheepish. 

“Your payment,” you replied. “Also, I sort of lied about being allergic to flowers. I’m not allergic to flowers. I don’t know why I said that. I’m allergic to penicillin, though, but I don’t think that sounds remotely close to ‘flowers.’ Maybe I got confused? I don’t know.”

If this was an otome game, you had surely picked the bad relationship ending. Soonyoung’s face fell a little—just enough for you to notice—and you immediately felt guilt swallowing you whole. You meant for your words to sound lighthearted, but maybe they didn’t come across that way. 

But, at the same time, you didn’t know where you stood. Wouldn’t it have been unfair to not repay Soonyoung for the lessons? Was it unreasonable that you weren’t actually expecting him to bring you flowers for no reason?

Soonyoung recovered quickly, though, his smiling eyes crinkling at the corners. “So I can bring you flowers.”

“Hypothetically, you could.”

“But you don’t have to pay me anymore.” He looked into the paper bag, examining the STIIZY pod before scoffing. “If I keep stocking up on these, people are gonna think I’m a stoner.” 

“Well, I have to pay you for the lessons somehow,” you said. “So, if you don’t want the pods anymore, then I’ll have to start sending you money. I mean, what about gas?”

“You don’t have to worry about my gas tank.” He chuckled at your words and sat back to get comfortable. “What you should worry about is not hitting the curb.”

You flushed hotly. “Right.”

The first hour went smoothly. Soonyoung was impressed that you were gradually getting more and more comfortable behind the wheel, and he even congratulated you for changing lanes without muttering prayers under your breath. You were beginning to feel less overwhelmed with everything you were supposed to focus on, and you were certain that you were so close to everything clicking at once. 

That was, until a car crashed right into you on a local road. 

Thankfully, you and the other driver weren’t going too fast, but the force was sure to leave a dent in Soonyoung’s car. The collision wasn’t hard, by any means, but the impact jerked your body forward so that your mouth hit the steering wheel. The sting of pain radiated throughout your gums seconds later, and you winced and cradled your jaw. 

You immediately bubbled with rage as you pulled over to the curb, knowing that you had the right of way and he was supposed to stop and wait for you to pass, but you were still stiff with shock. Soonyoung’s eyes were fierce, looking back at the driver as if he was about to cuss him out, but then he turned his attention to you.

Before you could feel immense, crushing guilt over crashing Soonyoung’s car, you whipped your head around to make sure he wasn’t hurt. You wouldn’t be surprised if he completely ghosted you after this. You were probably the worst student he had ever come across, which was saying a lot considering most of his students were high school teenagers. 

“Y/N, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked, sounding as frantic as his hands were. You felt his palm against your cheek and his other hand atop your head, making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere. 

“Are you okay?” you blurted out. Your breathing was erratic, and you hardly registered the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. “Oh god. Your car. Oh god, I—” 

“It’s okay, Y/N, it’s not your fault,” he said. “You had the right of—” 

When he turned to look at you again, he just stared, eyes wide and jaw hanging open—almost comically. It almost looked like he was more bewildered by you than the fact that his car was rammed into by another car. 

He was wordless for far too long that you had to ask, “Everything okay?” 

Maybe that was a stupid question. Clearly, everything wasn’t okay, and it had everything to do with the fact that you two had gotten into a car crash.

“I think you loth a tooth,” he lisped—a seemingly joking remark, but his expression was dead serious.

For a split second, a laugh bubbled up in your mouth. You thought Soonyoung must have been messing with you, but it was ridiculous that he could joke around in such a situation. It was when you touched your lip and pulled your hand back to see blood, though, that cold reality washed over you.

Your eyes went wide as saucers as you turned to examine your teeth in the rear-view mirror. 

The worst possible thing that could happen to a woman was happening to you right now. 

Your front left tooth was gone. 

“I-it’s not that bad,” Soonyoung tried, although he sounded unconvinced himself. “It’s cute! It’s like, uh, that dragon—from, uh… How to Train Your Dragon.” 

Your eyes were burning and your throat was closing up, but tonguing the bloodied gap between your teeth sent you over the edge. You had tears streaming down your cheeks and you were gripping the wheel so hard that your knuckles turned pale.

“Toothleth?” you cried, which led to a few choked sobs when you realized that you had a lisp now. Then, you were full-on crying into your hands because sure, you could get over being the reason why Soonyoung’s car had a dent in it, but you were pretty sure there was no replacing a missing tooth. The more you cried, though, the worse you felt as you tasted the blood and heard the faint whistles coming from the gap in your teeth. “I’m tho thupid!” 

Soonyoung was clearly short-circuiting, but you could tell he was desperate to calm you down by the way he was rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Y/N, you’re not stupid. It's okay, we just—”

“Thoonyoung!”

Soonyoung slapped his hand over his mouth to suppress his laughter. He was trying to take you seriously, but the little bursts of laughter that bubbled up in his throat were betraying him. 

You swallowed down your sob and continued, “Ith not okay! I loth my tooth!” 

“Okay, no more talking,” he ordered. “I know you’re very hurt right now, but you’re gonna feel even worse if I start laughing at your lisp, so don’t make this harder for me.” 

You scowled at him, but you kept your mouth shut because Soonyoung was right; you were not in the proper headspace to be laughed at right now. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go outside and talk to the driver who ran into us,” he explained slowly. “I want you to calm your breathing and find your missing tooth. We can drive to the dentist right after, okay?” 

You sniffled and nodded, craning your neck to watch Soonyoung get out of the car to talk to the driver. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath and examined the floor to find your loose tooth. Lo and behold, it was laying next to the gas pedal. You cringed as you picked it up, frowning at how bloody it was in your palm. There were a few napkins in Soonyoung’s glove compartment, so you wrapped your tooth in one and kept it in your pocket.

You heard some yelling from the other driver—something about having kids in the back and how you were going way too fast—and it all just made you feel worse. You felt horrible that Soonyoung had to deal with the repercussions, and after they exchanged insurances and the guy drove off, you got out of the car to see the damage. 

Surely enough, there was a decent-sized dent in the side of his car. It was right where the back door opened, and you burst into tears at the sight of it. Soonyoung wouldn’t have to deal with all of this if he wasn’t teaching you to drive.  

Still, he wrapped his arms around your shaking body and pulled you in close. He rested his chin on top of your head and sighed. 

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “The insurance will cover the damage. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“What about my tooth?”

“Okay, maybe there’s one thing to worry about.”

You leaned into his touch when you felt his hand carding through your hair. His motions were slow and gentle, as if he was trying hard to make sure you didn’t notice the gesture. You did, though, and you appreciated it. 

You started, “I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he interrupted. You thought he was going to say something cheesy about how you had nothing to apologize for, but he continued, “You’re gonna say thorry, and I’m not gonna be able to take you seriously.”

With your face buried in his chest, you reached your hand out to punch his shoulder. 

Still, despite his snarky comment and the emotional distress you were experiencing over your missing tooth, a big smile crossed your face and his embrace left a warm, fluttery feeling in your stomach. 

Your heart was beating so fast that you almost thought it would stop. 

“Ew,” was Wen Junhui’s first reaction upon seeing your swollen lip. You could only see the top half of his face over FaceTime, but you were sure he had a look of disgust on. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you replied dryly, holding an ice pack to your cheek. 

Before Soonyoung drove you to a dentist, he scolded you for leaving your tooth wrapped up in a tissue. Apparently, your tooth was going to be fucked if it dried up, so his solution was to leave it in his half-empty water bottle that was left sitting in his car. You weren’t quite sure about this, but the dentist informed you that Soonyoung saved your front tooth. 

If he was with you in the room, you probably could’ve kissed him then and there—bloody mouth and all.

Thankfully, since you didn’t fracture or break any part of the tooth, the dentists were able to replant it into your gums without any complications. They told you it was a good thing you went straight to the dentist instead of waiting. Your front tooth would’ve been a lost cause if you waited another hour. 

It was really all thanks to Soonyoung. 

The procedure was quick and you were told that your avulsed tooth would be back to normal in about a week. The news filled you with relief because you were so sure you were going to be toothless for the rest of your life. 

Not that it was a bad thing. While Soonyoung was driving you to the dentist prior to the replantation, you had come to terms with the fact that you would be missing a front tooth for the rest of your life. You would grow old and tell your children the harrowing tale of how you got your driver’s license and sacrificed your front tooth for it. 

It couldn’t be all that horrible. Maybe you would grow an affinity for whistling.

Thankfully, that was all just your overthinking and your tooth was probably fine now. In seven days, everything was supposed to go back to normal, so you had your fingers crossed for a full recovery. 

“Of course that would happen to you.” Junhui laughed at your misery. “Shit like this only happens to you.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m the pinnacle of terrible luck.”

“So, what happened after? Did you make out with Soonyoung or something?” 

“No!” you exclaimed. Your cheeks started to burn just at the thought. “How do you expect me to make out with someone when I look like this? Soonyoung drove me home like a gentleman. He’s not into me like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing him for a while, anyway. I don’t wanna start driving again until my tooth is fine.”

“Then maybe you can go on a different kind of ride with him instead.”

“You need to stop.”

You didn’t see Soonyoung much over the next week. He told you that he had a few papers to finish before his schedule would clear up, so you were only able to text him occasionally and see him in passing, exchanging a greeting before one of you had to go. 

You saw his friends a lot, though. They were always in the study room next to the one you and Junhui liked to use, so you would stop by their room often to see what they were up to. They were usually either messing around or using the whiteboard for everything but its intended purpose, so you enjoyed taking study breaks with them. Junhui was the type to not take breaks because he was locked in on his work once he got in the zone, so Soonyoung’s friends were a breath of fresh air. 

Your Current Opinions on Soonyoung’s Friends:

Mingyu: Kind. Approached you whenever he saw you. Pleasant conversations. Swiped up on your Snapchat stories sometimes. Was unfortunately the only person you forgot to block from your story once when you posted a semi-thirst trap just for Soonyoung’s eyes.

Seungcheol: Friendly whenever he talked to you. A little awkward because you once saw him taking selfies at the gym instead of working out. 

Seungkwan: Not super buddy-buddy but sweet enough. Liked making fun of Soonyoung with you. He brought you McDonald’s once and you imagined a future with him momentarily.

Word also got around that your front tooth had been knocked out clean. Seungcheol let it slip when he accidentally referred to you as ‘Toothless’ the other day. You made a mental note to kill Soonyoung later.

The next time you ran into your driving instructor on campus was outside one of your lecture halls. You walked out in the middle of class to fill up your hydroflask. It was especially hot today, and you were seconds away from heat exhaustion. Soonyoung’s brows lifted in pleasant surprise once he saw you, and he missed his elevator to walk up to you.

“Whoa.” You paused for a moment, unblinking. “I keep forgetting you go here.”

“I’m the hall monitor.”

“This is college. We don’t have hall monitors.”

“Self-elected,” was his response. “Speaking of, I don’t see your bathroom pass.”

“I’m not going to the bathroom. I’m filling up my water. Anyway, why would I—”

“Just this once, I’ll let you off with a warning,” he interjected, pulling out a card from the pocket of his jeans. He handed it to you, and you accepted it after a moment of hesitation. “There’s your bathroom pass. Don’t let me catch you loitering around here again.” 

With that, Soonyoung walked off, leaving you utterly confused. 

You flipped the business card around to see his name and number printed neatly in the middle, and you frowned in response. There was some other fine text on the back, but you didn’t take the time to read it properly as you were still baffled. 

“I already have your number!” you called after him, but you just heard your driving instructor laugh to himself in response as he disappeared behind the elevator doors.

Later, after your classes ended, you went back to your study room with Junhui. He had been in the library since morning, deciding to skip his classes to prepare for his second round of midterms that he still had a few weeks for. 

You told him about your encounter with Soonyoung, noting how strange it was that he casually had business cards on hand. Junhui asked to see the card, so you handed it over to him. 

Upon closer inspection, Junhui raised his eyebrows, impressed. “Hall monitor rizz.”

“How was that rizz? He told me it was a bathroom pass and left.”

“Well, I’d consider it rizz since he’s asking you out on a date.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. “You think he’s asking me out on a date?” 

“No, I know he’s asking you out on a date.” Junhui flipped Soonyoung’s business card around to show you the fine print: Schedule our first date with the number provided on the other side of this card. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Says it right here. He’s just shy, Y/N.”

“Shy? Him? He doesn’t look like the shy type.”

“He’s shy,” he affirmed, “around you, at least. I mean, you’d get shy around the person you liked, wouldn’t you?” 

“I guess, but…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “No, this is normal, right? Dates are normal. We’re just two normal adults going on a normal date. Nothing weird about that, right? I shouldn’t feel so weird about this. Do I sound weird? Am I weird?”

You didn’t realize you had gotten up and started pacing until you turned to see Junhui looking at you with concern hanging in his brows. You sucked in a sharp breath and sank back into your seat, burying your face in your hands. 

“I’m in way over my head,” you mumbled. 

“You’re nervous ‘cause you have a crush on him,” he replied. “Nothing weird about that.”

“I have a crush on him,” you echoed, more so to yourself than to Junhui. 

Although you were partly in denial, still tossing and turning the prospect of crushing on Soonyoung around in your head, Junhui took your words as confirmation. He hummed knowingly and turned back to his textbook, leaving you to ruminate for the next thirty minutes in silence before you excused yourself. 

You were currently speed walking to your usual bus stop, hoping you would be able to stop thinking about Soonyoung and the business card tucked into your pocket. However, you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of you developing a tiny crush on him. 

You hadn’t had a proper crush in ages. The last time you had strong feelings for someone was in high school, which promptly ended following your first date—after an eight month talking stage. You proposed going to the fair, which seemed fine until you threw up on the ferris wheel and received an ‘I don’t think this is going to work out’ text later that night. 

And why were you so flustered over this, anyway? After all, you had been anticipating the day Soonyoung would make the first move. Plus, you were an adult; overthinking your feelings like this was so high school. 

Whatever. You had nothing to lose.

You pulled out your phone to text Soonyoung, a small smile crossing your face once you caught sight of his profile picture again. It was a picture of him with all his hair flying every which way in the wind and his mouth open to yell some profanity. 

y/n: date. y/n: this week any day 

soonyoung (driving instructor): WHOA!!!!!!

y/n: what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day

soonyoung (driving instructor): tomorrow night

y/n: okay

soonyoung (driving instructor): okay

y/n: okay.

soonyoung (driving instructor): okay. soonyoung (driving instructor): can’t wait

y/n: me neither

soonyoung (driving instructor): pick you up at 8

y/n: i’ll be ready

soonyoung (driving instructor): i’ll be even more ready

Your heart didn’t stop pounding for the rest of the day.

To be a woman was to perform. 

You were currently performing an illegal U-turn. 

Soonyoung held onto the ‘oh shit’ handle fixed to the ceiling, his face contorted in absolute fear as he repeated, “Wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane—”

“Sorry!” you exclaimed, swerving back into your correct lane after checking your mirrors. You swallowed thickly before saying, “I’ve got it under control now, I think.”

Of course, you had been nervous the entire day and a half leading up to your date with Soonyoung, but how you felt right now had completely reigned over every emotion you were feeling before. 

Throughout the day, you had butterflies in your stomach and a little skip to your step, but now you were terrified of things you had never even worried about before. The reason you took a U-turn in the first place was because Soonyoung told you that you missed the parking lot entrance, causing you to panic in the middle of the road (which, on your part, was not very smart.) 

In short, Soonyoung should not have let you take the wheel, and you should not have gotten this worked up over him planning to take you to the local fair. 

What were the odds that you were back in the place where you had an awful last date? You could almost feel the bile rising up your throat.

Soonyoung’s voice was unnaturally high-pitched when he asked, “A-are you sure you’re ready to schedule that driving test?” 

“Yes! I’m ready,” you said, “but, to make things clear, my driving today is not representative of my driving any other day.”

Somehow, you and Soonyoung wound up making it to the fairgrounds’ parking lot in one piece. You deflated upon hearing the sigh of relief escape Soonyoung’s lips once the car was in park, but it was well deserved. You were surprised he even let you drive in the first place. 

The fairgrounds were packed with people—mostly students—so there were several couples going around with their fingers interlocked. You were now hyper-aware of your fingertips, wondering if you’d get the chance to brush them against Soonyoung’s and slowly slide your hand into his. 

He ended up paying for your ticket, and you didn’t have much room to argue about it because the employee was already taking his card before you even noticed. You told Soonyoung you would pay for something else—food, rides, raffle tickets—but he ended up covering everything for you. Of course, you were sure Junhui would have scolded you because turning down a guy paying for you was apparently equivalent to turning down the guy himself. So, you swallowed your pride and let Soonyoung take the lead. 

You went on a few rides with Soonyoung, shared a churro, and you took a picture in front of the ferris wheel. You were having a great time, actually, and almost all of your nerves had all but melted away. All that was left to deem this a perfect date was to actually ride the ferris wheel, which was exactly what you were absolutely terrified of. 

“Not good with heights?” Soonyoung asked as you two were getting into the seat, pulling down the lap bar for you two. 

You wondered if you looked as ghastly as you felt. “Not so much.”

You weren’t good with a lot of things, to be fair.

Smooth talker Soonyoung took that as his opportunity to slip his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together with a shy smile on his face. “You can close your eyes if it gets scary, or just keep looking at me.”

Honestly, that sounded scarier than the possibility of plummeting to your death from the top of the ferris wheel. You weren’t sure your heart could handle staring at Soonyoung, especially with how flustered his gaze made you feel. 

“Hey, could I ask you something?” you asked, nearly shying away when Soonyoung fixed his gaze on you. “When did you start liking me? I mean, I had no idea.”

“Uh…” The ride started moving backward as Soonyoung hummed in thought. “Probably that first time you were in my car?”

Your eyes went wide. “You mean our very first lesson?”

“Yeah, I thought you were cute—a little weird, but cute.” He grinned. “I think it was when you fell asleep over FaceTime that one night when I started catching feelings.”

Your cheeks burned. You weren’t sure if you could pinpoint a specific moment like he did; you just remembered your heart started beating faster when you saw him one day, and the rest was history. It was almost incredible how blindsided you were by his feelings, even though he had integrated himself into your daily life so naturally.

“And then you posted that one picture on your story once,” he continued, voice growing shy once he realized what he admitted out loud, “and that was when I knew I was really in too deep.”

You blanched with embarrassment. He must have been talking about the thirst trap because that was the only time you ever posted yourself so confidently. How were you going to explain that you blocked everyone else from your Snapchat story just for him to see that?

A nervous laugh bubbled from your lips. “About that—”

Before you could get any other words out, though, you became painfully aware of your surroundings. Your seat started swinging with the strong winds, and you realized that you were at the very top. If you leaned over enough, you were pretty sure your seat would tip over and drop you and Soonyoung right out. The very thought paralyzed you to the core. 

Just as Soonyoung was in the middle of asking if you were okay, the ferris wheel started moving faster, and you yelped and clung onto him as you two went down. You were fine with the slow pace with breaks in between, but now that you were moving at full speed in one go, it was downright terrifying. 

Soonyoung seemed to find it hilarious, though. He laughed and wrapped an arm around you while you were the very picture of fear. You buried your face into his chest and dug your nails in so hard that you were afraid he would feel them through his sweater. 

Finally, it came to a stop. The ride operator started letting people out one seat at a time, but you and Soonyoung had ended up at the very top again. You raised your head to sit upright again, letting out an exasperated breath, but Soonyoung drew you closer. He was still laughing, and it made you blush uncontrollably. 

“Just so you know, I’m good with any other ride!” you tried to defend yourself. “Well, actually, save for roller coasters and drop towers… oh, and—”

“Y/N,” Soonyoung cut you off with a smile, his voice hardly a murmur. Before, you could barely hear him over the excited cries and shouts in the fair, but now your attention had zeroed in on him. You felt disoriented as he placed his warm hand on your cheek, tilting his head and leaning in. “C’mere.”

You were too shy to admit it, but you had fantasized about making out with Soonyoung before. Of course, you never knew what type of kisser he was, so you just settled for whatever fantasy played out in your head.

Now, though, with his lips pressed against yours, you felt something hot and needy stir up inside you as he tugged you impossibly close to his body. Your stomach fluttered when you let slip a whimper, which Soonyoung didn’t let go unnoticed. He pulled back for a moment, his gaze darkening, promising to return to that later, and he returned to kissing you. 

When you were almost near the ground, you and Soonyoung pulled away. There were definitely far too many children and parents around for you two to be kissing like that, but now you were anticipating how things would be once you two were alone. 

“You two have fun?” the ride operator, who appeared to be an older teenager, asked with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

All you could do was nod and duck your head in embarrassment while Soonyoung beamed brighter than the flashing lights. 

You spent some more time with Soonyoung on a few more (tamer) rides before you two decided to call it a day. Your feet were getting sore, so he courteously offered to drive the both of you home. However, you had an itching feeling that he just didn’t want you behind the wheel again. 

“Wanna get something to eat?” he asked once you both were inside the car, and he turned his head around as he reversed. “There’s a good froyo place down the street.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” you agreed quickly. Deep down, you were hoping this date wouldn’t end just yet.

Soonyoung played Olivia Rodrigo’s new album as he drove, rolling the window down so that the wind tousled his hair. You thought he looked cute that way, and you had to keep your hand under your thigh to keep it from reaching over and running it through his locks. 

When he parked in front of the froyo place, it appeared completely dark inside. It was also evidently clear that the only cars parked in the lot were the overflow crowd of people from the fair who couldn’t get a parking spot at the fairgrounds. 

“Did we miss it?” He frowned, pausing to look up the store hours on his iPhone. “Man. I didn’t want our date to end like this.”

“I don’t want it to end, either.”

Soonyoung looked over at you, studying your expression carefully before asking, “Do you wanna chill in the back for a while, then?”

You knew what that meant. And you had specifically worn your matching lingerie set just for this moment. 

You unlatched your seatbelt, and Soonyoung followed suit right after. “Yeah, I’m down.” 

“Wait, there’s something I need to do first,” Soonyoung said in a soft voice, looking down at you with gentle eyes. 

For a moment, your heart jumped to your throat. The way he was looking at you sent butterflies to your stomach, and you couldn’t even imagine what he was going to do next. Something about his tone was so sincere that you were sure he was going to kiss you, especially when he started leaning down. 

You let your eyes flutter shut, waiting for his soft lips to meet yours. Your heartbeat felt like a drum in your ears. 

But nothing happened. No kiss. Nothing. 

You opened your eyes to see what Soonyoung was doing. When you saw him hunched over, fiddling with something near his ankles, your face deadpanned—not a flicker of amusement. 

Soonyoung had put his Crocs in sports mode. 

First of all, wearing Crocs on the first date was absurd.

Second of all, putting your Crocs in sports mode on the first date was absolutely preposterous. 

Yet, it was the perfect thing Soonyoung had done to put your nerves completely at ease. You ended up bursting into laughter at the very sight, making his head shoot up while his eyebrows were drawn together, perplexed. However, he happened to hit his head on the steering wheel as he did so, which only made you laugh even harder. 

Your sudden surge of confidence spurred you to crawl over the gear stick and straddle his lap. Shocked, Soonyoung gripped your thighs and straightened up. Before his lip could curl up in amusement, you wrapped your arms around his neck and slotted your lips with his. 

He broke for air for a moment, breathing out, “Well, hi.”

“Hi.” Your nose gently bumped against his. “Having second thoughts?” 

“No!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands up and down your sides. “I just didn’t wanna start anything because I wasn’t sure if you were ready.” He threw a glance over his shoulder before looking out the window. “Plus, this place isn’t exactly private.” 

You looked out the window while Soonyoung’s warm hands returned to your thighs. It was true that there were empty cars around, but there weren’t any people in sight. It was still early in the night, so you were sure people would stay at the fairgrounds until midnight. 

“Hey,” Soonyoung started again, “what was that you were gonna say on the ferris wheel? Before we, uh, made out.” 

“Oh.” Shame bubbled in your chest when you realized what he was talking about. “Nothing important.”

“Tell me.”

Moonlight shone in from the window, illuminating the side of Soonyoung’s face and his neck, showing off his prominent collarbones. His low voice reached your core in a way you had never experienced before. You flushed with embarrassment because you were certain Soonyoung could feel how you clenched. 

You looked out the window, as if you could mentally escape through it. Find a way to get out of the situation you were in. 

“Fine.” He huffed lightly before placing a hand behind your neck and drawing you closer. “I’ll just get it out of you, then.”

Notably flustered, you gasped when Soonyoung’s lips latched onto the side of your neck, biting and sucking the tender skin. You croaked out some lame lie about forgetting what you were trying to say, but Soonyoung persisted. He ravaged the column of your neck like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. 

You scooted up on his lap, sitting right on top of his growing bulge, which roused a throaty groan from him. You could feel Soonyoung twitch under you, and it was all that was needed for you to start grinding your hips slowly on his lap. And then he started guiding your hips down onto him. Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers dig into the grooves of your hips to take control of your motions. 

“Tell me,” he beseeched, and you shivered when you could feel his smile against your jawline.

You let out a whine. “It’s embarrassing.” 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, distracted as he looked up at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. His hands never left your hips as he watched you grind down on his lap. Soonyoung’s eyes were unfocused for a moment before clarity bled back into him. “It was about the Snapchat story, right? That one picture you posted.” 

“I don’t remember what that was,” you attempted to lie smoothly, but you were pretty sure your expression betrayed you once Soonyoung slid a hand under your shirt to cup your chest. 

“Yeah, you do. The one where you were wearing those thigh-high stockings.” You saw a flash of darkness in his eyes. “Can’t believe everyone got to see you like that.”

“I wouldn’t say everyone,” you muttered. 

“Hm?”

His thumb, after his hand managed to creep under your bra, found purchase on your nipple, rolling and circling around the supple flesh as he pleased. You only managed to let out a cry before Soonyoung was pressing you further, ordering you to answer him before he made you fall apart. 

You were so caught up in your own pleasure, practically chest-to-chest with Soonyoung, that you hardly noticed the knock on the window until Soonyoung jolted upright and straightened his back. 

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, voice still thick with lust that was ebbing away. Thankfully, you both were still mostly clothed, but Soonyoung had his pants nearly down and you had your shirt riding up past your waist.

The officer stopped knocking to give Soonyoung the opportunity to roll the window down after he was decent. It was evidently an uncomfortable situation for both parties. You turned your head to the side, screwing your eyes shut and hoping you would blink out of existence if you tried hard enough. You never thought you would have a cop at your window before even getting your license. 

“Hi,” he greeted sheepishly once the window was down. “Sorry, we’ll get going now.”

“Yeah, uh…” The officer trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with a long-winded sigh. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but keep it in the bedroom, please.”

“Thanks…” Soonyoung trailed off, looking for some sort of identification tag. 

“Officer Hong,” he answered flatly. 

“Thanks, Officer Hong.”

“Don’t let me catch you two again.”

“Oh, probably not me, but once she gets her license then it’s over for—ow!” Soonyoung yelped when you pinched him in the side, effectively shutting him up. He immediately apologized, “Sorry, Officer Hong, it won’t happen again.”

The encounter with the police officer was awkward, yes, but somehow, Soonyoung was unfazed once you two had gotten off with the warning. He coolly looked up at you and asked if he could come over to your place tonight. You agreed, of course.

The drive home was perfectly fine. Soonyoung made sure you weren’t too startled by the officer and asked how you liked the fair. You thought it was all pleasant conversation that would continue once you were in your living room, but Soonyoung pinned you up against your front door as soon as you were inside. 

His strong arms caged you in his hold, and you could only helplessly look up at him and warble out some pathetic question, asking if he wanted water or snacks. He turned the offer down, obviously. 

Since you two had already gotten this far, you figured you might as well let Soonyoung in on your little secret. Although it was slightly humiliating to admit, you realized tonight that far more embarrassing things had happened to you. 

“You really wanna know, don’t you?” When he nodded in response, you sighed and explained, “What I posted on my story… I blocked everyone else so that only you’d see it.”

Well, him and Mingyu, but the latter was purely accidental. 

Hearing your words flipped a switch in Soonyoung and he completely froze up, as if he had stopped functioning altogether.

“Well, technically, you and Mingyu,” you rambled on, “but that’s only because I forgot to block him from my story. You know, I have, like, two hundred people on Snapchat, so I figured I’d accidentally skip over someone, anyway. But I don’t think he even paid any attention to it. I feel like he’d—”

He cut you off by sealing his lips over yours, and all the noise in your head simmered down. All the fluff filling up your brain billowed and sank back down. You remembered when you were a middle schooler, giggling and replaying the scenes in movies that were exactly like this. Now that you were actually living in it, though, you couldn’t get enough of Soonyoung. 

He broke away for a breather, lips hanging barely an inch from yours and your foreheads touching. His heavily-lidded eyes found yours, gazing at you longingly through his lashes. 

“No offense,” he started with a smirk, “but I don’t really care about Mingyu right now.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but you shut it as soon as you realized that you had nothing intelligent to contribute. You recognized that most of your mindless ramblings probably killed the mood—for you, at least.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then the side of your neck. As he moved down to your chest, Soonyoung’s kisses grew sloppier and open-mouthed. He tugged at your shirt, and you helped him remove it with ease, snapping your bra off in the process and letting it fall to the floor. His hungry gaze upon seeing you bare before him made you ache for more. Soonyoung let out a groan and let his tongue drag over your nipple, circling and flicking around the sensitive skin until you were moaning shamelessly.

With his head ducked so that his lips could ravage your chest, Soonyoung bent down just a little bit more to wrap his arms around your thighs. He scooped you up in his arms swiftly, making you yelp, and he walked you to your bedroom after you whispered where your room was. He was so strong that you hardly had to hold onto him, but his strength was a double-edged sword because he had you pinned down on your bed in seconds. 

A grin crossed Soonyoung’s face as his lips returned to your chest. This time, his lips made their way down your body, to your stomach. You curled your hand in his hair, tugged hard because you wanted more, but Soonyoung was relentless with his teasing. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you squirm under him and ache for more. They were slow and torturous, and you only grew more needy as he made his way down. 

“Can I take these off?” he asked, fingers slipping into the waistband of your pants. 

“Only if you take your clothes off, too.”

You heard him chuckle before you felt cold air starting to hit your bare skin. Soonyoung unzipped your pants and tugged them down your legs until they were bunched up at your ankles, which you struggled to kick off until he bent down to move the fabric off your heel. You shuddered when he snapped the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers at the sides and twisting the fabric. He sure was enjoying toying with you, and you weren’t sure you could handle any more teasing. After what felt like forever, Soonyoung pulled the last of your undergarments down and marveled at your bare body.

“You’re unbelievable,” he all but growled, running his hands down your sides, to your hips, and past your thighs. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

You sat up, looking up at him with a pout, which only seemed to drive Soonyoung to the brink of madness. 

“You’re still clothed,” you observed.

“Yes.”

“Take it off.” You folded your arms across your chest. “I can’t be the only one naked.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” he replied with a laugh. You supposed he could see your expression falter, nearly letting some pathetic sound fall from your lips, so Soonyoung cooed at you and ran his thumb over your lower lip. “Oh, you like that? Like it when I call you princess?”

You did like it. You liked it too much for your own good, and it was almost humiliating.

Soonyoung towered over you as he peeled off his shirt, grabbing it from the nape of his neck and slipping it off in seconds. Your eyes ran over his beautiful expanse of skin, from every defined muscle in his abdomen to the little goosebumps that pricked his arms. You reached out to run your fingers down his abs, letting them trace each groove and dip in muscle. Soonyoung shivered at your very touch, but he allowed you to make your way down to undo his belt and pants. 

Your fingers were fumbling, but you managed to remove the latch after several failed attempts. He guided you with his steadier hands, but you were determined to do it yourself. Finally, you pulled his belt free and pushed his pants down his legs. 

He seemed to be slightly embarrassed, but Soonyoung was already rock hard. His cock sprang up so that the tip pushed past the waistband of his boxers. 

“Don’t worry about that,” he grumbled, sinking to his knees and placing his hands on your thighs. “I’ll take care of you first.”

He grabbed your knees and pushed them apart, staring at your soaked cunt like it was everything he ever wanted. Soft kisses peppered the inside of your thighs, working up to the apex of your legs. You felt the cold air hit your core and shivered, but then it was hot all over again once Soonyoung licked one long, slow stripe that made you writhe and cry out in bliss. He had to press your hips down to keep you from moving too much. 

But his movements were so slow and torturous. You were going insane by how much Soonyoung was teasing you with his kitten licks and lazy drags of tongue. Tears welled up in your eyes by the time you had been edged away from another impending orgasm, with him letting his dissolve as soon as the heat bloomed under your skin. 

Kissing your cunt. Plunging his tongue into your core. Licking at your walls until they trembled and shook with the warning of release. You were agonized by how good Soonyoung was making you feel.

“Please,” you begged, your voice breathless as your body felt lightweight, “let me cum, please.”

“Hm.” He seemed to consider it for a moment before saying, “Tell me three things you like about me, and I’ll let you cum.”

You laughed, but it died on your tongue as soon as you realized there was no amusement on his face.

“You’re kidding, right?” You swallowed hard, knowing you had your answer already. “Oh, you’re not kidding.”

He was making you work for your orgasm. This was mortifying; you never expected Soonyoung to be so cruel, and you never expected it to be so hot.

“Three things, baby,” he said. “Start with number one.”

“One,” you started, your voice shaky as Soonyoung returned to snaking his tongue past your folds, “I like how you treat me so well and look after me, like—oh, right there—yeah, like that.”

“Two,” you continued, more so in a whimper because Soonyoung was skillfully using his tongue to reach places you never thought to stimulate before. “I, ah—I like the way you look at me and when you tell me I’m beautiful.” You sucked in your teeth when you felt him press his tongue flat against your clit. “Soonyoung, please.”

“One more,” he murmured.

“T-three,” you breathed out, and by this point, your legs were already shaking. Your brain was turning to mush and you couldn’t help but clench at Soonyoung lapping at your soaked cunt. The tremor in your voice was unmistakable when you admitted, “I love how you’re so much better at this than I ever could’ve imagined.”

He breathed out a laugh against your cunt. “Am I really?” He tightened his grip on your hips to suck on your clit, making your back arch and your chest feel light. “You think about me that often, princess?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed with your eyes screwed shut. “Thought about you whenever I was—”

“Don’t finish that,” he warned, though it almost sounded like he was pleading with you, “or I’ll go crazy.”

Your nerves felt like they had tangled themselves into several knots that kept tightening in your stomach. You shuddered and moaned with each motion of Soonyoung’s tongue that brought you closer to your release. He was merciless with the way he dipped his tongue in your core, rubbing your clit with his thumb in slow circles.

Your walls tightened one last time before you were finally blinded by your white-hot orgasm, and you hardly even realized that hot tears were streaming down your cheeks. Soonyoung was eating you out unabated, not even giving you a break between each wave of pleasure that hit you. After your climax subsided and coherency gradually bled back into you, Soonyoung finally pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

You grabbed his arm before he could say anything. Soonyoung looked you in the eyes for a moment, alarmed, but the worry knitting his brows together melted away once you pulled him down for a proper kiss.

With your arms wrapped around his neck and his knee between your legs, Soonyoung eventually found himself lowering his body until your chests were pressed together. He kept himself up by his elbows and pulled away to look at you. He brushed your hair out of your face and leaned in for another kiss.

As you two became a tangled mess of limbs, wrapped up in each other and far too occupied to care about anything but making out, you moved your hand down Soonyoung’s abs to wrap your hand around his cock. He groaned against your lips and rocked his hips against your touch. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with lust. After reaching back to tug his boxers down, freeing his cock from the restricting fabric, Soonyoung looked down at you with desire glazing over his eyes. “May I?”

“Please do,” you answered.

You cried out when he started rubbing the head of his cock against your cunt, teasing your folds like he did before. You were aching already despite your previous orgasm, and you thought you were going to die on the spot from how needy you were.

“Turn onto your stomach,” he ordered. You were confused for a moment, but you ended up being manhandled by Soonyoung, anyway. He flipped you over and positioned himself at your entrance, keeping one hand on the back of your neck. “Good girl.”

The side of your face was pressed into the sheets, and your hands were desperately reaching for anything that gave you proper leverage. You ended up grabbing onto the pillows just as Soonyoung started pushing his cock inside you. You swallowed down the gasp that dared threaten to escape, and Soonyoung pressed kisses to your face and made sure you weren’t crying from how big he was.

With more filth and praises whispered into your ear, you were clenching and unclenching around him, making Soonyoung groan whenever he felt you tighten. It took a while for him to ease his way into you, but once Soonyoung had finally nestled inside of you, it was as if a switch flipped in him.

He was thrusting as soon as you gave him the green light. You were blindsided by how intense he was, hardly having any control over your own body as you held onto the sheets for dear life. Soonyoung held your hips with a bruising grip as he fucked into you.

Hot.

Everything felt hot and sticky. Your sweat-matted hair clung to the back of your neck, and you felt like your sheets were uncomfortably damp. Despite it all, though, you couldn’t get enough. You needed more, wanted more. Soonyoung was relentless, even when your box springs creaked and the frame rattled against the wall. 

You felt his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck. You’re taking me so well.”

Still overly-sensitive from your previous orgasm, it didn’t take long for you to reach your limit a second time. Soonyoung pounded into you with fervor, and even he was quickly falling apart. 

“That’s it,” he got out, teeth gritted. “That’s my girl.”

You pulled him down for a deep kiss, muffling both of your moans once you were clenching uncontrollably around him. You were falling from your peak and Soonyoung fucked you through your orgasm, even though he was on the verge of one himself. 

He pulled out right before he was about to cum, and you could only hear his groans before you realized he had gotten off, too. For a moment, you thought Soonyoung abandoned you on the bed. His voice sounded distant all of a sudden, and you were too tuckered out to move. 

Then, he returned with a towel and several tissues for you. You turned onto your back again to make out his silhouette entering the room and taking a seat next to you. Your eyes were shut as Soonyoung cleaned you up, and you only opened them once he pushed your hair back and kissed your cheek. 

“Wanna go again?” he asked with a grin. You were impressed by how quickly he was able to recover. You, on the other hand, needed a few minutes to recuperate. “The night’s still young.”

“Yeah, sure, if you use a condom this time,” you breathed out, turning over onto your side. “Just give me five.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting your chest rise and fall until its rhythm steadied. Your breathing was even again, but when you opened your eyes, you saw neon green glowing in the middle of the room. 

“Soonyoung.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. You were not getting dicked down by manga censorship. “Why is your dick glowing?” 

“I prefer glow-in-the-dark condoms.” 

Typically, when two individuals had feelings for each other, it would often bloom into a relationship.

It was quite clear that you had feelings for Soonyoung and he had feelings for you, so, naturally, one would expect the two of you to start dating. However, it felt like you both were testing the waters around each other instead—dipping your toes into the dating pool. You two were exclusive, but not exactly together. 

You were perfectly content with taking things slow, but that didn’t necessarily mean Soonyoung didn’t end up over you almost every other night. The sex was great, of course. Mind-blowing, even. 

Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan seemed to catch on quickly. There was no mistaking what was going on after you went over to their apartment to play Catan, and then you and Soonyoung disappeared into his room afterward. The next morning, when you walked downstairs in Soonyoung’s shirt to eat breakfast with everyone, you could pick up on their unspoken realization that you were hooking up with their roommate. 

Seungkwan even made an offhand comment about you and Soonyoung being a thing—whatever that was supposed to mean. 

You debriefed Junhui on the entire situation, of course. He seemed less surprised about you sleeping with Soonyoung, though, and more interested in the outcome of your driving test (which, you had to admit, you were terribly worried about). 

The night before your dreaded behind-the-wheel exam, you received a call from Soonyoung.

You weren’t sure what to expect when you picked up the call. You knew that he’d been planning on getting high with his housemates today, so you weren’t exactly sure if this phone call was going to be private or not. You were half-expecting Seungcheol to answer for him instead. 

“Hey,” Soonyoung greeted, voice slightly muffled. With the way the audio sounded, you suspected that he wasn’t holding onto his phone at the moment.

“Are you busy?” you asked. 

“No, just trying to get the pod you gave me out of its packaging.” You heard a few strained grunts from him before he exclaimed, “I got it!”

“I’m proud of you.”

“That’s what I’ll be telling you after you ace that driving test,” he said. He paused for a moment (which you guessed was him taking a hit). “You ready for it, by the way?”

“Not really.” You sucked in a sharp breath. “The good news is that taking years to pass the permit test has helped me memorize all the rules of the road; the bad news is that I have severe anxiety and probably won’t be able to utilize anything I’ve learned.”

“You’ll be fine, Y/N. You drove just fine with me, didn’t you?”

“But that’s you! How am I gonna drive properly with some scary old guy who probably hasn't ever smiled in his life?”

“Just relax. Remember to slow down on your turns and check your blind spots when you’re changing lanes.”

Your voice grew shy when you admitted, “This is gonna sound weird, but I kind of miss our driving lessons.”

“Even when you lost your tooth?”

You grimaced. “Even then.” 

Soonyoung laughed along with you for a moment before he simmered. The silence on the other side of the line didn’t feel uncomfortable, but you felt like each nerve end of yours was on fire. 

“I didn’t want it to end either, Y/N,” Soonyoung said after a while, his voice dropping an octave. 

“Really?”

“I don’t wanna be in a world where we aren’t in a car together, whether I’m telling you to stop driving under the speed limit or we’re crashing into that Honda Civic that knocked your front tooth out,” he started, and you scratched the back of your head. Yeah, he was definitely high. “And, maybe… maybe the missing front tooth was really the catalyst for all the memories we made along the way. Maybe, in another universe, that tooth never fell out—or existed. Maybe the concept of that occurrence manifested into this universe as a—”

“Okay, it was cute at first,” you interrupted, “but you’re definitely in that other universe right now.”

You had never been this much of a nervous wreck.

Actually, scratch that. You were probably this much of a nervous wreck at least thrice a week. You functioned on being anxious several times a day, so this was honestly not a new feeling. The only problem was that you had never driven with anyone other than Soonyoung, so you were slightly on edge as you turned into the DMV.

“Please return my car in one piece,” Soonyoung said, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle as you went over a speed bump, which you found highly unnecessary. He pointed to the starting point for the driving test. “I’ll wait for you outside the building over there.”

“Sounds good.”

“And remember: if you’re gonna fail the test, make sure you fail it big time. Don’t fail it by going ten over the speed limit, or something boring like that.”

“That’s terrible advice, Soonyoung.”

“I’m playing. You’re gonna be just fine.”

“Thanks, I’m just so—oh my god!” 

You stepped on the breaks immediately, gripping the wheel tight as the car lurched forward. The man who was crossing in front of you doubled over onto the hood of the car before standing upright again. You rolled your window down to yell an apology, but the man paid you no attention and kept walking with a scowl on his face. 

“I almost killed him!” you cried, slapping a hand over your mouth. 

“Well…” Soonyoung didn’t seem to know how to reassure you as he was still immobilized with fear himself. He managed a shaky grin. “On the bright side, he’s alive and you’re not facing a lawsuit.”

You swallowed hard. There was no way this exam was going to go well. 

After handing in the necessary paperwork inside the DMV, they approved you to go outside for your driving test. Since Soonyoung was letting you use his car while he waited outside, he sat with you until your examiner came by. He did everything he could to calm you down, but, ultimately, it was up to you to pass. 

While Soonyoung was giving his seat up for your examiner, you closed your eyes and tried to take deep breaths to mentally prepare. 

“Ma’am, can you turn on your left turn signal?” the examiner asked from your window. 

When you turned to look at him, you felt something inside you shrivel up and die. 

The man you almost ran over was your examiner. 

In your daze, you managed to follow his instructions as he asked you to point out various things, such as the windshield wipers, defroster, and foot brake. All the while you were already preparing yourself for failure because there was absolutely no way this man was going to let you pass after almost becoming your victim. 

Once the pre-drive safety check was over, he circled around the car to sit in the passenger’s seat, looking down at his clipboard for a moment. You held your tongue, hands clasped together in your lap. Were you supposed to apologize? Would he even care about your apology? It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, right?

You started in a meek voice, “Oh, about what happened earlier, I’m so—”

“I’m Jeonghan, and I’m gonna be scoring your behind-the-wheel test today,” he cut you off with an air of indifference, looking back down at his clipboard. “Whenever you start the car is when the test begins.”

“Right—yes, okay.” You swallowed thickly and gripped the wheel, looking behind you to make sure no one was coming. Since there were a few cars driving by, you decided to wait for a moment. “A-are you having a good day?”

“I was.”

You wanted to crawl in a hole and drop dead. 

After the road was clear, you turned out of the DMV and started driving down the road, checking your speed and mirrors every so often. You had always been comfortably driving with Soonyoung, who would just help you reroute if you missed a turn. Now, though, if you missed anything Jeonghan said, you were going to fail (and probably die). 

“Take the right coming up here,” he instructed.

You remembered your turn signal and to look back over your shoulder. Soonyoung had taught you well, but you were afraid that his gentle instructions would only take you so far. Jeonghan was the most intimidating person you had come across (mostly because you almost killed him), and you should not have been trusted to drive someone you were terribly scared of. 

After you made the turn, you sighed in relief at the long stretch of road ahead. You attempted to cover it up by clearing your throat and making small talk with Jeonghan. 

“It’s pretty cold today, isn’t it?” you asked. Stupid question. You had no idea how cold it was. Soonyoung’s car felt like a sauna because you cranked up the heater, or maybe the heat was from how nervous you were. 

Jeonghan promptly ignored you. “Change lanes and take the next left.” 

Albeit your state of disarray, you followed what he said. You decided to give up on small talk altogether, coming to the conclusion that Jeonghan just hated you and didn’t want to converse with the person who almost murdered him in cold blood. 

You were pretty confident that the rest of your driving test went horribly. You almost went ten under the speed limit to make sure you didn’t run over anyone else in the school zone, you shrieked when the railroad lights turned on and you had to wait for the train to pass by, and you looked both ways about five times when you were at a stop sign. 

Jeonghan told you to park the car once you reached the DMV, so you pulled into an empty parking space. You were praying that he wasn’t still grading you because you were most definitely occupying two parking spaces right now. 

“Okay, so,” he started, looking at his clipboard before turning to you with a deadpan stare, “you drive too slow.”

Oh. That was intentional because you didn’t want to deal with another hit and run, but you stayed quiet and nodded. 

“And,” he continued, “you overthink too much when you’re behind the wheel. Don’t hesitate before you stop or make turns, or you’re just gonna run into trouble that way. You can’t be paranoid about driving, otherwise it’s gonna be hard for you to be on the road.”

You pressed your lips together in a tight line. This was it. He was going to fail you. There was no way you were going to pass when you were being criticized for your entire performance. You didn’t blame Jeonghan, though; you probably wouldn’t pass the person who almost ran you over, either. 

“Well, you were cutting it really close,” he said, circling some parts of your examination sheet, “but you passed.”

Your eyes grew wide.

You passed.

You passed.

You turned to Jeonghan and cried out, “I passed?!”

“You know your car, you know the rules of the road, and you did all your maneuvers just fine,” he continued. “You slowed down in the school zone to make sure you didn’t hit any kids, and you were careful about your turns and stops. Just remember not to be too careful, though, or you might run into someone.”

For the first time, you heard a small snicker of amusement come from him. 

“I—I’m so sorry about that,” you blurted out. “I thought you were gonna fail me for hitting you with the car.”

“Like I said, the test begins when you start the car.” He handed you your papers and got out of your car. Before closing the door, he turned to you with his clipboard tucked under his arm. “You should go tell the DMV you passed and get your temporary license before I mark you down for this parking job.”

You gulped, unbuckling your seatbelt in a rush. “Will do.”

Jeonghan stalked off to grade another new driver, you supposed. When you got out of the car, your eyes immediately scanned the perimeter to search for Soonyoung, and there he was, waving you over from the sidewalk with a bright grin on his face. 

Before you could even make your way over and break the news to him, he yelled out with his hands cupped around his mouth, “That’s my girl!”

You blushed, stopping in your tracks and staring at him for so long that it took a car honking at you to propel you back into motion. You scrambled over to Soonyoung, eyes wide as saucers and still frazzled from the emotional turmoil you went through with Jeonghan.

He wrapped an arm around you. “You know, no matter the result, I’m proud of you for trying. There’s always next time, you know?”

“Soonyoung—”

“Did everything else go well, though? Other than you almost killing him, obviously.”

“Soonyoung, I—”

“It was probably just bad luck, honestly. I mean, it was a recoverable bump, not even a full-on crash! You were going so slow that anyone could walk that off.”

“Soonyoung!” you yelled, thrusting your score sheet into his hands. “I passed!”

His eyes widened. “You passed?!”

“I passed!” you squealed. “I have to tell Junhui! I mean, he totally thought I was gonna fail my first two or six tries!”

Soonyoung crushed you into a hug, which would’ve been more endearing if your ribs weren’t being squeezed so hard. “Holy shit, Y/N, I’m so proud of you.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Be my girlfriend,” he spoke against your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin, and you immediately froze.

Kwon Soonyoung wanted to be your boyfriend. Even with everything that had happened—from the STIIZY pods, to the car crash, to the glow-in-the-dark condom—you still felt relief flooding your veins at the thought of Soonyoung liking you as much as you liked him. It almost felt like you were in a dream.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally remembered how to breathe.

You pulled back to look at him, and even though it was the middle of the day, it felt like all the stars were out to make Soonyoung shine brighter than usual.

“Be my girlfriend,” he repeated, softer this time, and his eyes were gentle as his hands reached for yours. Your lips immediately tugged down and your eyes were welling up with tears. “No, no, no, Y/N, don’t start crying at the DMV.”

You wiped at the corner of your eye. “I can’t help it. I always cry at the DMV.” He smiled down at you fondly, waiting for you to gather your composure. You mustered up the strength to lift your head and nod eagerly. “I accept.”

He was your boyfriend now. The word felt strange on your tongue, but it also filled you with inexplicable happiness. And when you saw how Soonyoung’s eyes crinkled at the corners, you thought you could definitely get used to this. 

“You’re so cute.” He laughed, pulling you into his embrace once again. “How about we go get something to eat after you tell them your score?”

You grinned. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

While Soonyoung was waiting in the car for you (and probably readjusting your terrible parking job before he got yelled at), you walked into the DMV and stood in the same line you were in months ago for your permit test. You remembered the anxious feeling of possibly failing your written test a seventh time, but now you felt a huge weight being lifted off your shoulders. 

“I did it,” you gushed to the woman at the counter, handing her your score sheet. “I passed.” 

“Congratulations!” she chirped, examining the papers before turning to type something on her computer. She turned to grab your temporary license from the printer and handed it to you. “Here you go. Your real one should come in the mail in a few weeks.”

“Thank you so much,” you replied, inspecting your new license with bright eyes. 

You failed your permit test six times, only passing on your seventh attempt. While other children were getting their licenses at the age of sixteen, you were still trying to pass the written test in your twenties. And, yes, you had severe driving anxiety, but you crossed that hurdle yourself and finally passed your driving test on your first try. 

So, that glass ceiling? Consider it smashed.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so so much for reading if you've made it this far !! :') i've been wanting to write for hoshi for so long and this was just so fun <3 also BIG shoutout to everyone who asked to be on the tag list because although i couldn't respond to everyone (mostly because i figured i would end up tagging everyone twice 🧎‍♀️ ), i mega appreciate your interest ♡ hope everyone's having a wonderful day/night !!

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[markleessodalite]

NCT Dream as Girl Dads

Headcanon: what would nct dream be like as girl dads?

content warnings: none that i can think of, its literally just how i think the members would behave if they had daughters so it should be fine unless you've got daddy issues (which is valid because so do i lol)

word count: 840

Mark:

Mark is completely enamored with anything his daughter does, whether it be big or small. Mark thinks that any little thing she does is a sign of who she’s going to be in life. She giggled at him when she was an infant? She must have a great sense of humor! She made him a fake lunch with her kitchen playset? She’s got the mind of a chef! She gets excited for the ride to visit grandma? She’s gonna travel the world one day! Mark as a dad can be summed up in one word– enthusiastic. His train of thought may be a bit idealistic (just because she likes playing on the swingset doesn’t mean she’ll be a pilot) but at least you know he will happily support her in whatever she does.

Renjun:

Gifts, gifts, and more gifts. Renjun’s daughter will always be dressed to the nines, even before she’s old enough to eat on her own– he’s got designer bibs at the ready. If she wants a dollhouse that’s 4 feet tall and takes up more space than her bed, she knows dad will get it for her (you told him to at least save it until her birthday, but he couldn’t wait). Renjun doesn’t see the harm in spoiling his little girl. Why would you not want to treat your daughter like a princess? However, Renjun is certainly not a pushover; his number one rule is bad attitude = no gifts, and he doesn’t tolerate brats.

Jeno:

Jeno is his daughter’s number one protector. No one is going to hurt his little girl on his watch. If any playground bullies push her out of the sandbox, it takes everything Jeno has to not lose it on the kid’s parents. In fact, he’s already… unpopular with the neighborhood parents, after he glared at a kid a little too hard for catching an attitude with his baby. It’ll get annoying when she’s a teenager and every boy at school is terrified to ask her on a date, but Jeno will say its good to be selective– because there’s nothing that would break his heart more than seeing his little girl in pain. 

Haechan:

Haechan is his daughter’s best friend. As soon as she was old enough to walk, he was planning all sorts of fun father-daughter activities. He’s gonna take her to the carnival, and the water park, and the mud flats, and the fairgrounds, and anywhere else that his daughter might want to go. Of course he’s going to raise her on good music too, and one of her favorite memories will be going to her very first concert with her dad. As she gets older it might take him time to understand that teenagers need privacy– she’s not so little anymore, and he can’t expect her to tell him everything she thought and felt like she used to. But that doesn’t mean he’ll ever stop being his babygirl’s best friend.

Jaemin:

Jaemin has very high standards for his precious girl. She’s the daughter of Na Jaemin after all– she only deserves the best! He makes sure she gets home cooked meals (and only the finest restaurants if they choose to go out), he takes advice from Renjun to get her the finest clothes, he only gets her bedsheets with a specific thread count and skincare products with specific ingredients. He may go a bit overboard sometimes, like when he tries to forbid her from seeing certain friends or from watching certain tv shows, but you know it comes from a place of care. He just wants the best influences for his little angel.

Chenle:

Chenle wants his daughter to be amazing in everything she does. He’s going to encourage her to pursue anything, as long as she’s pursuing something. He’ll have her enrolled in a variety of clubs and activities, he’ll help her study to get the best grades, he’ll do volunteer work with her so she can experience many different paths her life could take her. Sometimes you have to pull him back a bit when he’s putting a little too much stress on her, but he just sees so much potential in his daughter.

Jisung:

Jisung lets his daughter get away with everything, for better or worse. Jisung is not much of a disciplinarian… and it drives you a little insane. He just hates seeing his baby with tears in her eyes, even though you’ve explained that she’ll be fine in 5 minutes and move on to something else. She took a toy from another kid? Well… maybe we should just buy her that toy instead of scolding her. She’s refusing to lay down at bedtime? Well what if we just let her watch a movie with us? Jisung just wants his little girl to always be happy, and turning the dial from sweet dad to mean dad kills him. But he knows its his responsibility to raise his daughter, not just fawn over how cute she is. So he will turn into mean dad when he needs to. Begrudgingly.

[bandgie]

Stuffing to Give

warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, AGE GAP, reader has an asshole family, hickeys (brief mention), cumming inside, Yunho bites once, clothe tearing, no protection, size kink if you squint, Yunho says 'young pussy', stomach bulge mention

3.5k words

notes! sorry I've been gone, life or whatever. buuutttt happy holidays! this fic took me too long but for being in a drought, I'm proud of it. hope you enjoy :) (divider from @/anitalenia) tag! @desirehorizon

“You know, you should be looking for a husband. Not worrying about your classes or anything like that. No man likes a woman too smart for her own good.”

It was your mom who opened the can of worms during Thanksgiving. The air was already uncomfortable being that distant family who were more like strangers sat at the dinner table, but mentioning that you’ve been single for so long, at such an ‘old age’, made everything a thousand times worse. 

You’re not even old. Some would argue being in your mid-20s was still very young. 

But no matter how much you’ve tried to defend yourself. No matter how many times you said you just wanted to focus on furthering your education, your aunts and uncles pressed one and one thing only. 

Your uncle lifted his fork to his greasy lips, the white meat of the turkey forcing itself into his already stuffed mouth. “Y’know, your youth will only last you for so long. You’ll end up an old cat lady and regret not settling down.”

Regret. You hate that word, as if these people know anything about you, let alone have a right to say how you should live. The food you're trying to swallow feels too big for your throat. There’s a burning in your chest. A feeling you’ve tried desperately to suppress since the holidays started. 

Anger. Hate. Hurt. Disgust. Fear.

You don’t want to be here anymore. 

Dramatically, you throw your fork on the table. The silverware clatters harshly against your plate and bounces until it lands on the other side of the table. The chatter stops immediately, all eyes on you as you stand so quickly the chair topples to the ground.

A pin could drop and it would echo in the quiet room. 

“You know what? Fuck this. Fuck you. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with me getting knocked up. It’s fucking weird. Get off my dick.”

Aunts gasp. Some Uncles laugh. But your mom, her eyes are so wide and shocked as if she wasn’t the one who started this whole issue and didn’t do anything to defend you. 

Her own daughter. 

“And you.” You look at her, but it’s hard when your vision blurs. “When I do find a husband, and when I do have kids, don’t expect to hear from me.”

Voices call your name as you turn away. Someone tries to hold you back by the forearm, but you tear from their grasp. Your only goal is to get the fuck out of there, heading for the front door and slamming it on your way out.

It’s cold. A gentle breeze blows your hair as you turn to the side of the house. The crunch of leaves sounds on the ground therapeutically. You can’t help but look at the pretty orange and brown beneath your feet. It’s the only thing keeping your frustrating tears from falling. 

But you don’t see that there’s already someone at the side of the house with your gaze on the ground. You forget how close the houses are in this neighborhood.

“Bad day I take it?”

You lift your head, surprised to see someone already at your spot. The sun is setting despite the early hours. The only thing illuminating his face are the porch lights. His cheekbones are high. His brown hair is decorated with a few gray strands, framing his handsomeness perfectly. His lips curve into a smile, but more friendly than humorous. 

Shit, you’re staring. “Oh you know, just family butting in when they shouldn’t.”

He grins at that. “Ah, good ol’ holiday joy. I can’t stand them either. Pretending they know me when they don't.”

Relief settles on your shoulders. At least you aren’t alone. “I know right? They change my diaper once and suddenly think they know what’s good for me.”

The man laughs. His smile lines deepen at his lips and his eyes close for a brief moment. You smile at him.

“I know the feeling all too well.” He studies you when he opens his eyes again, gaze dropping to your nylon-covered legs and the cut of your dress. He travels up to your face smoothly. “What was your name?”

It takes a second for the effect of his gaze to fade, but you manage to tell him. “I’m studying Chemistry right now. On my way to getting a Masters.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh wow! That’s really impressive! You look too young to have all that under your belt already.”

His compliments make you burn. “Oh, thank you. I just study hard.” You tuck a strand of hair that blows annoyingly in your face. “And you are...?”

“Yunho.”

You furrow your eyebrows together. “You know? No, I don’t think I do.”

He looks just as confused, but then realization settles on his face and he laughs again. This time, he clutches his stomach and bends over, getting close to your bubble. Not that you mind, you like the smell of his light, earthy cologne.

“No- not ‘you know.’ Yunho. Y-U-N-H-O.”

That smile is still on his face when it clicks in your mind. You feel your face burn from embarrassment, covering your mouth with cold fingers. “Oh my god. I’m such an idiot. Yunho. Okay, I get it.”

You’re still burning when he chuckles again, deep and velvety. “No worries. I think that’s the first time that’s happened to me.”

The two of you laugh once more before you settle into silence. The quiet doesn’t last long when he asks, “So why are you out here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Maybe it’s the warm, pleasant feeling in your stomach from talking to Yunho, but you don’t have an ounce of hesitation in telling him. “My family has always bugged me about starting a family. The moment I graduated high school, it’s like the only thing I’m good for now is popping out babies.”

Yunho scoffs. His jaw clenches attractively and you hate how your legs press together upon the sight. 

“I know completely where you’re coming from. Trust me, that nagging never goes away. I’m already well above my prime and my brothers still bother me about finding a wife. With all this gray hair? I don’t think the ladies would want an old man like me.”

A demon must possess you because you speak before you can even think. “What? Yunho, I know we just met, but you’re like…very attractive. Finding a wife won’t be hard for you, even if you think you’re old.”

The lift of his eyebrow says it all. He’s shocked, at the very least. He stands straighter, towering over you. You hadn’t realized he was leaning against the wall to appear smaller, but his height stuns you.

He cocks his head to the side. “You think so?”

It takes a moment to gather your thoughts. His defined chest shows through his black turtleneck, nipples pebbling in the cold. His lithe arms wrap over his chest, adding to the clothed cleavage. If his upper body looks this good underneath clothes, you can’t even imagine anything less.

“I…” Fuck it. “Yeah. I do. You’re tall, handsome, fit, and some chicks dig older guys.” 

He scoffs a little, but it’s more from embarrassment than pride. His full cheeks blush further and you know it’s not from the cold. If you manage to play your cards right, you can ditch your family dinner for a different type of feast.

Yunho’s smile turns darker, more sinister as he looks down at you through his bangs. “Oh yeah? What type of chicks?”

“If you want to get specific, maybe the one standing in front of you.”

His grin deepens. Bingo.

-

His car is nice. Like, really nice. The seats are leather and he's got interior lights that shine when he opens the passenger car door for you. 

What a gentleman. 

But it’s his flat that impresses you the most. The ones you see are usually in the movies, either too small for any average person to live in or big enough for a whole town. Yunho has the latter.

You want to compliment him. Or more so, ask what type of job he has to afford all this space, but the large hands on your back push you to the bedroom and remind you why you’re here in the first place.

He doesn’t bother closing the door when you two make it to his room. Yunho cranes his neck down, lips ghosting over your own before he finds your neck instead. You lean to one side, hands going up his back trailing to his hair that you intertwine with your fingers. His mouth is so warm on your cold skin. It has you shaking for a brief moment before you get used to his heat.

Yunho starts with pecks. His lips feel plush and delicate, causing your flesh to rise with goosebumps. He moves to the center of your neck and kisses there too, but just when your eyes are starting to flutter shut and your mouth opens to sigh, he bites. 

You gasp instead. “Ah! Yunho!”

He doesn’t pull away from your throat, but you can feel his body jolt with giggles. He presses his kisses harder where his teeth marked you, a tiny apology you grow wet from. The two of you are still standing mere inches from the bed, but you don’t want to part from him. Yunho’s leg fits perfectly snug between your thighs and though you aren’t grinding, your cunt likes the warmth it provides. 

But you can feel it throbbing. The aching for any tiny movement, but you force yourself still save for how you keep pressing yourself against him.

Yunho makes you feel so small. His hands feel as if they could hold you easily, and they seem to do that with your lower back. Long fingers dig into your skin, and it doesn’t take long for his hands to travel further down until he finds the fat of your ass.

He takes a moment to stop giving you hickeys and groans into your shoulder. “So fucking soft. Your ass looks so good in this dress.” He swipes his tongue from your collarbone to the place below your ears. Your nipples harden almost immediately, the wetness makes you cold for a moment.

“You should see how it looks without it on.”

Challenge sparks in his eyes when he raises his head to look at you. All it takes is a reassuring nod from you before he pulls away almost completely, save for the hands squeezing your ass.

“On the bed then. Let me see.”

You smile and pry his hands off you, lifting your dress above your hips, but not off your body completely. You turn around for Yunho to face your back, hands finding the bed so you crawl on the bed for him to see. Your knees are on the edge, but finding balance is easy when you arch, wiggling your ass in the air.

The nylons are still on, but the see-through fabric adds a layer of sexiness. Yunho’s fingers graze your ass, stuck on squeezing and spreading your cheeks. It makes your pussy lips move with it, opening and closing against your clit softly. 

It’s such a tiny movement to your pussy, but with how you’ve been ignoring its leaking, it feels like so much more. You moan in the sheets, gently rocking yourself back and forth to try and get Yunho to spread your ass more.

“Jesus Christ.” He puts his thumb on your pussy, guiding it against your slit until he finds the bundle of nerves underneath your nylons and underwear. “I can feel how wet you are. You need it real bad, huh?”

His fingers are muted from the layers of clothes, but that doesn’t stop you from whining. You press back until his thumb is hard against you, swiveling your hips for friction. 

“Yesyesyes. So bad. I want your cock.”

His one thumb turns into multiple fingers. You sing with pleasure, showing no shame as you ride his hand until you feel the subtle, but familiar feeling coil in your stomach. Your styled hair is now a mess as it covers your eyes from how hard you’re rocking. Though you can’t see, you can feel the arousal leaking down your thighs and gather at your nylons.

Your orgasm comes quickly. It gets easy to grind on his fingers when your body is desperately chasing the high. “Cumming! Fuckfuckfuck, I'm cumming.”

You lift yourself on your forearms, halting all your movements to let the blinding pleasure wash over you, hot and delicious. Moans tumble past your lips. The tiniest bit of drool seeps from your mouth as you shake. You rock again, this time, to milk out your orgasm to completion. 

But Yunho pulls away.

A desperate cry leaves you. “W-wait. M-more. I want m-”

Familiar hands push you back into the sheets. Yunho holds you by the back of the neck, forcing you to keep your trembling ass in the air. 

Your heart races. More gasps and heavy breaths filter through your chest, but it’s an excitement that bubbles in your stomach. So much adrenaline runs through your body that half of the shaking is from your nerves. 

You just know he’s going to fuck you good.

“You came on my hand and you’re already asking for more?” Yunho tuts. “So impatient, but don’t worry, you’ll get it. Girls like you love cumming their brains out, huh?”

There’s no denying that. You nod in the sheets and whimper a pathetic yes, but Yunho approves nonetheless.

“Yeah, that’s why you’ll take any cock you can get, right? Even if it’s a stranger…” His free hand smoothes over your ass, but once he finds a good grasp on your nylons, he yanks. Your entire body pulls back from the force. You have to grab onto the mattress to not slip off the bed. 

“Even if it’s a man who’s almost twice your age…”

Another harsh yank and you hear fabric tear. Yunho pulls and pulls until your ass and cunt are free from the material. It’s only your underwear in the way, but you doubt that’ll be a problem.

Yunho leans down until he’s at your ear. Your body breaks into chills. He feels everywhere. He is everywhere from how big he is. You know you’re safe, but the thought of being at his mercy heightens your pleasure.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll buy you a new one.” He sweetly pecks your head and pulls away.

You’d laugh from the drastic switch-up, but you moan instead when you feel his fingers at your cunt. He plays with your folds through your panties, poking where your entrance is and smearing the arousal staining the underwear. 

You’ve never been this wet before. It usually takes some lube or way more foreplay, but Yunho turns you on in ways you didn’t believe were possible. His deft fingers and how his brown eyes can be warm but threatening. Everything about him is captivating and you can only hope he thinks the same about you.

With a finger hooking to the side of your panties, he tugs until your bare cunt is finally freed. You clit peeks from your hood, throbbing between your lips desperately. 

For the first time since you’ve met him, you feel nervous. Yunho stares at your pussy longer than you’re used to, making you try and press your thighs together to hide it. 

“Nuh-uh.” He jiggles your ass. “Don’t do that. I wanna see your pussy.”

You whine but obey. You put yourself face-first into the bed, ignoring how your cheeks turn red. 

Soon, the bed shifts weight and you hear the sound of a zipper. You pick up your head to look back, but Yunho forces you to face the bed. 

You pout. “I wanna seeeee.”

“You just want everything, don’t you?” Yunho sounds condescending, but he rewards you with the head of his cock. Your lower lips wrap around his tip when he grinds against your pussy, making sure to keep your underwear out of the way. “You want to cum, you want my dick, you wanna see it…And the worst part is, you’ve got such a pretty pussy that you’ll get everything you want.”

Yunho pulls back just enough to line himself up. You still haven’t gotten over how his tip felt brushing against you. He’s slicked himself up nice and wet to press, intruding on your entrance. 

You squeal. His shape opens you so easily that his size doesn’t sting at all, but makes your brain fuzzy. Though Yunho won’t let you see, you know he’s big. You turn dumb too quickly, chest burning from the oxygen he fucks out of you when he buries himself to the hilt. 

‘Oh my-...fffuucckkkk.”

Yunho groans at your moaning. He opts to hook his thumb in your panties and splay the rest of his fingers on your ass. Messily, he gathers your hair to create a makeshift ponytail with his other hand, forcing your chest up. 

Out... In... Out... In…

The pace is slow, but that doesn't mean it’s dull. Yunho pulls out until his tip is barely inside before pressing back in. When his pelvis is flush against your ass, it has you kicking your feet up and down on the bed from the overwhelming sensation. 

He feels like he’s in your ass. In your throat. You can’t escape how deep Yunho drills into you when he keeps you still by the hair, forcing you to take every unbearable inch.

You love every second of it. 

“Nghhh. Yunnhooo. Fuck meee. Fuck me pleeasseee.”

The sound of your cunt squelching echoes in the room. Yunho grunts at your command, pulling you up a few inches. 

“Yeah, you want it? You want it? Then fucking take it.”

It’s like a switch. That cautious pace turns animalistic, rough, and quick until your breasts manage to slip from the top of your dress and bounce freely. 

Your breath gets caught in your throat. There’s no sound until a harsh thrust forces the moan out. Once you start, you can stop. All you can manage are gasps and whines from Yunho’s drive. 

Every vein, every curve doesn’t go unnoticed between your walls. The repeated pistons force you to know his shape. You know he’s carving a place for him. So deep and good that you don’t think you could ever go back to hookups at your university again. 

But it’s Yunho’s tip that does it for you. There’s no you could ever unknow how it kisses your cervix or how the shape digs into you. You can't stop clenching down on it, sucking it back in over and over despite the pleasure overload you’re enduring. 

Your pussy’s in loooove.

The haziness of your mind clears a bit when Yunho pulls you up more. Your fingers barely graze the mattress, but the pain in your scalp feels dull when you look into his eyes.

They’re dark, hungry, and possessive. There’s nothing but carnal desire when you dreamily look up at them, eyes losing focus rather quickly. 

“You’re gonna cum. I fucking know you are. You cunt’s so fucking loud, it’s begging for it again.”

You swoon. Yunho knows he can make you feel good, he can feel it. Something like affection burns in your chest and you look at his pink lips. 

He grins. “You want a kiss?”

You nod, but it must look silly since your entire body is jolting. 

Yunho looks borderline psychotic when he breaks out into a smile. “Fuck. I love how young and stupid your pussy is. I’m gonna cum all over it. You’d like that, huh?”

“Loooveee iiiit.”

Yunho quickens his pace. You swear if you look down, you could see his cock poking through your stomach from the angle. Instead, you’re held to look into his eyes, vision blurring as your second orgasm approaches. It’s so much more intense than your first. Now you have something to clench on. Something to cream on when you inevitably burst. 

And with your crossed eyes looking into his, you do. You feel a burst of warmth from your stomach speedily reach your pussy. It makes you feel hot, the even hotter arousal pooling down your thighs and onto Yunho’s cock.

He moans above you. His hips grow sloppy, hitting different parts of your cunt that have you squealing. Yunho doesn’t break eye contact when he stills in you, dick throbbing as his cum shoots inside. 

The two of you stay moaning into each other's mouths, lips a mere inch away until he finally gives you what you want. The kiss is sloppy, full of breaths and moans as you messily shove tongues inside.

He swipes the inside of your cheek. He twists his tongue with yours until salvia trickles down your chin. You suck on his muscle and he does the same, pulling away with a wet smack that leaves you buzzing.

Yunho stares at you for a beat, eyes blinking as he comes to a sudden realization. “I think I'll keep you.” 

You don’t have the energy to respond, but you're thinking the same thing.

[ghatwsreal]

ABC NSFW — Cho Hyun-ju

Warnings: NSFW, +18

Pairing: Hyun-ju x AFAB!Reader / Fem!Reader

A- After Care (What is she like after sex?)

After the act, she asks you if you liked it and if you were uncomfortable with anything or if you want her to improve on something, and soon after a little conversation, she takes you to take a shower with her, helping you clean up with a warm towel, before finally getting back into bed with you ending the night with the two of you cuddling as she takes care of you.

B- Body Part (What's her favorite part of her own body and of yours?)

Her favorite parts of her body are definitely her breasts and her hair, since they are the parts of her body that make her feel more feminine. As for you, her favorite parts of your body are your thighs and your eyes, loving to squeeze your thighs at times and loving the way your eyes shine and the look in them when you look at her, regardless of whether the looks are during sex or normally.

C- Cum (How does she cum?)

She likes to cum on your face or inside you if you let her, loving to see your face with her remains even though she won't admit it directly.

D- Dirty Secret (A dirty secret about her)

She would never admit it in front of you or anyone else, but there are times when she imagines you sitting and riding her face, with her holding and squeezing your thighs. It's a thought of hers that she doesn't share with anyone, but it simply makes her extremely excited.

E- Experience (How experienced is she in sex?)

She has little experience, before coming out and transitioning she had already been with a few women before, but not many. The rest, she learned everything from you, exploring more of her own sexual desires and yours when she met you and went deeper into it.

F- Favorite Position (What is her favorite sex position?)

Her favorites are Missionary and Matting Press, she loves any position that allows her to see your face and look into your eyes that she loves so much while she takes you to heaven.

G- Goofy (Is she serious, humorous, silly?)

She's not stupid, but she's not completely serious either, knowing how to balance it so as not to create a bad atmosphere during the act, sometimes saying one playful thing or two to provoke you, but not too much.

H- Hair (How trimmed is it? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

Definitely no pubic hair at all, it's always shaved or trimmed, she prefers it and feels more comfortable that way.

I- Intimacy (How does she behave during the act?)

Extremely romantic, loving and caring with you during sex. At the same time she fucks you, she murmurs and whispers words like "I love you", "you're doing great", or beautiful words to you. She's not the type of person who just wants a one night stand, she really wants to dedicate herself and show you how much she loves you, and she shows it very well, even during sex.

J- Jack Off (Masturbation)

She didn't usually do it much, thinking it wasn't necessary. She usually doesn't masturbate, preferring to satisfy herself with you, but occasionally it happened a few times thinking about you after both of you met.

K- Kink (One or more kinks she has)

Praising kink, she definitely loves hearing you praise her during the act, feeling even more comfortable when you do it, driving her crazy with just such words.

L- Location (Favorite location for sex)

In your house, preferably in the bedroom or bathroom, but she doesn't mind doing it in other places, as long as it's just you and her at home.

M- Motivacion (What turns her on?)

Teasing and specific touches, like times when you wear very short clothes around her and bend down on purpose, just to get her excited, or when you touch sensitive parts of her body, giving her goosebumps and driving her crazy.

N - No (Something she definitely wouldn't do)

Anything involving the possibility of hurting you even minimally, and if she happened to end up hurting you accidentally, she would probably get down on her knees and apologize.

O- Oral (Does she prefers giving or receiving?)

She prefers giving oral than receiving, your expressions and the noises you make while she holds your legs with her head between them is everything to her. But she also likes to receive it, always praising you as you do it.

P- Pace (Does she go fast and hard? Slow and careful?)

Hyun-ju usually starts at a slow, easy pace, wanting to make sure you don't hurt yourself, however, as you go along, she takes a pace a little faster and relatively deep. However, if you tease her too much that day, she will assume a faster and harder rhythm, knowing that you liked it.

Q- Quickie (Her opinion on quickies, how often it happens, etc)

It happens, and she likes it, although she prefers to take her time with you and do it slowly. But although she prefers to fuck you with time, it happens a lot, especially when you both don't have time or need to go somewhere, but the excitement speaks louder.

R- Risk (Is she willing to take risks?)

If it were up to her, she wouldn't take so many risks, being a little afraid of getting caught, but if you were the one who suggested it, she would do it, since it was for you, but she would clearly be careful, although she was a little excited by the idea of it.

S- Stamina (How many rounds can she last?)

Thanks to her time in the Korean special forces, she eventually developed high resistance over time, in addition to the training having given her high stamina, which is still present even during sex. With this, She is capable of lasting from five to a maximum of seven long rounds with you.

T- Toys (Does she have toys? Does she use them? Usually on herself or on you?)

Yes. She doesn't have many aggressive toys, just simple ones that wouldn't hurt either you or her too much: handcuffs, blindfold, and at most a vibrator. Something more vanilla, she wouldn't be the type to risk hurting you too much by doing that. In general, she likes to use it on you more, having only used it a few times on herself.

U- Unfair (How much does she tease you?)

She doesn't provoke you that much, when she wants to initiate something, she speaks directly and sincerely, but there are few times where she provokes you, and she just drives you crazy.

V- Volume (How loud is she? What sounds does she make during the act?)

The sounds she makes during sex aren't that loud, but they are low and husky. She whimpers and whines in your ear in a low tone, while also whispering in your ear, demonstrating how much that pleases her.

W- Wild Card (A random headcanon or fanfic about the character)

At times, she is a gentle top, but in others, if you're in the mood and want to change things up a bit, she can also be a bottom, accepting that you dominate this time.

X- X Ray (What is she like under the clothes?)

She has a relatively strong body along with kinda big breasts, so to speak, having a somewhat defined six-pack, thanks to having been a special forces sergeant, although she doesn't like it very much. As for her intimate part, her penis measures 6.8 inches usually, turning 7.4 inches when hard.

Y- Yearning (How high is her sex drive?)

Not so high, she manages to have good self-control and not get excited by any tiny thing, but she can't resist provocations coming from you.

Z- ZzZ (How quickly does she fall asleep after the act?)

Usually, she stays awake for a long time before falling asleep, talking to you and cuddling you, only falling asleep after you do. But if you start stroking her hair and face, she will definitely fall asleep in your arms within minutes.

notes: This is my first NSFW ABC, and the first thing I've written and published here, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or inconsistencies. I'm also accepting requests for more!

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬

contents: fluff. satoru makes sweet promises about the future with you. 800 wc.

“What would you say if I retired today?”

The words left his mouth so easily—like they’re one of the many frivolous musings that comes and goes, an afterthought when the shared laughter and playful teasing had died down a bit. Behind his loose grin, Satoru carefully studies your face as he weighs the question in your mind, as though they bear no consequence and he wants to hear your answer no matter how serious or unserious he’s being.

“Retire…” You drawl thoughtfully, “You mean put your sorcerer work behind you?” You more than readily welcome the idea than you let on, it’s all you can think about sometimes and keeps you awake at night. You knew about the dangers and the shortcomings that his lifestyle posed, but your love for him outweighs the troubles and the fears and the risks that come with loving someone like him—that is Satoru Gojo.

Not the Strongest Sorcerer, the leader of something, just a normal person who has a fondness for the sweeter things and never lets good humor go to waste if he could help it. If he truly decided to retire from now onwards he won’t have to participate in another dangerous mission again, no more of those dreadful overseas assignments that keeps you both apart for long stretches of time, and you could get used to knowing that he gets to come home to you every night.

“Well, okay. I suppose I could become the breadwinner for once.”

Satoru lets out a pleased laugh. His arm that encircled your waist tightens as he squeezes you with great affection, receiving a small oof from you and quick gentle pats of surrender before he crushes your lungs. He’s sitting on an abundance of wealth for the both of you to lead a comfortable life, and you’re cute for worrying about finances in the foreseeable future. Maybe he doesn’t spoil his precious sweetheart far enough, he thinks.

“I guess you’ll need to work triple time in order to afford my expensive taste.” He teases, pinching your cheek between his fingers. “We can be a dynamic duo. You can work while I stay home.” He mutters softly, letting his hand settle against the nape of your neck while his thumb brushes against your cheek. “Would I be a good househusband?”

“You’d be awful.” You were a little quick to say, almost shuddering at the thought. He feigns a hurt expression with the slightest furrow to his brows and an adorable pout lines his lips. He had an affinity for sweets as shown in your fully stocked pantry but navigating the rest of the kitchen would cause quite an upheaval despite his best efforts. “Maybe at first anyway.”

“You think I won’t be able to clean or cook properly?” Satoru complains dramatically, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder. You attempt to push him away between your giggles as the ends of his hair tickles you and he gently nips away at your skin, but his large build unsurprisingly wouldn’t budge. He lays a light kiss here and there shortly after, his voice lowering into a playful whisper. “Giving up on me already, huh? Too bad, that was your only chance of seeing me in an apron~”

Satoru comes up to meet your gaze and he catches your lips for a sweet taste, the warmth of his body sinking into yours and your arms wrap around him to bring him in a little deeper. “Are you saying I wouldn’t be able to control myself around you if I came home to you wearing an apron?” It was your turn to pinch his cheeks fondly and you consider something. “But it’s a nice thought—you wanting to lead a different life.”

“I want to make you a promise,” he begins slowly, and there’s a beautiful look behind his cerulean hues filled with just pure adoration and love that’s reserved only for you. “When my time comes and I’m ready to call it quits, I’ll retire with you by my side. We’ll move somewhere peaceful and quiet—as secluded as you like. We could even travel the world if that's what my baby wishes, just the two of us.”

“That’s a big promise you’re making me.” You raise an eyebrow at him. But you like the dream that he’s sharing with you, no matter how close or how far out of reach it may seem. And so, a warm smile softens your face. “Just me and you?”

“Yes, Angel.” He grins happily, pulling you closer so his heartbeat matches yours and the sound lulls into one under the moon’s gaze. As long as you keep giving him every excuse in the world to keep you within arms’ reach—forever, then it’s contentment and peace and everything else in between he’ll find with you. If you’re there, then that’s home for him. “Just us and the sky.”

꒰ note ᰔ still coping with everything that’s happened along with ch. 261 so hope you enjoyed this something silly and something fluff for our sweet loverboy satoru. ꒱

[rotagnus]

situations, feelings. . . [pick-a-pile!]

an in-depth reading about feelings surrounding a situation, a person, etc. pick a pile per each situation/person you're asking about; general reading, with some specifics. i may put more readings up soon, may not!! but i hope that all of you have been doing well. apologies for the little hiatus; some personal things came up and overall my life is changing dramatically (positively :) ) so i have been trying to be less online.

pile 1 - buttons.

whatever this is has you acting differently. not necessarily in a bad way, but with the card polarity falling out, i think that it's showing a different side of you than you usually like showing to others. most of the time you're probably put-together and guarded; i'm getting that you guys like putting on an artificial costume for others because the real you is someone you see as sacred, tender, and easy to hurt. you can be the kind of person who has slightly crude humor, the person who seems to push others away; wry and sarcastic, or maybe you're simply cold and people feel like they can't get through to you. whatever this situation or person is, they're forcing you to grow and change. with the magician and seven of cups, a lot of the things you've manifested consciously and unconsciously are coming up. this can be good things coming, or bad things, depending on how you've been thinking recently. surprises are significant, i'm hearing. you also may have been feeling weirdly open recently...the same feeling when you do something deeply vulnerable or authentic in front of someone and they give you a soft reaction and you feel all wriggly inside, if that makes sense. the lesson that this person/situation will end up teaching you is to stop viewing things with such an analytical lens. you possess this strength in you; you wield a sword in both hands, and you fight for your people, you fight for your morals. but this leaves you with very little room to be soft, and i know that deep down, no matter how hard you push people and good things away, you still crave them, and a part of you hopes that they do come to you because you deserve them, not because they're a trick. if this is a person you're asking about, you may be blaming the universe because they also seem different...maybe too good, as well. the whole situation is different to what you've experienced before, and you're very tentative. i heard the word 'sapling', so in the relative time scheme of the universe, many of you may be souls who love to reincarnate and come back to earth (if that is something you believe in)...experiences are very valuable to you, but you're also very closed-off while craving that connection. at the end, this person/situation will bring you a security that lets you be settled within yourself even if the situation or person is without you, temporarily, or permanently. many of you have this mindset of needing a certain thing or someone to be comfortable by yourself, but this is the universe showing you that you are more than enough for yourself. a lot of you may be panicking, reading this; 'oh no, this thing is gonna disappear!' but my whole point is that by the end, you'll be secure enough, most likely WITH whatever you're afraid of losing. if not, the cycle will keep repeating. take care, my love; keep hydrated, and remember that you are beyond treasured.

signs: green eyes. black animals. duality. armchairs. brushes. eastern religions. prayer. television. lines. branches. coconut.

pile 2 - creativity.

a lot of the major arcana fell out with this one. the hanged man, the chariot. also awakening from a different deck. what i'm understanding is that this is either the dead things from an old phase that you just finished, or a beginning, so i'll do my best to explain both versions, so you can decide if this applies to you ! :)). so for number one, i think that the first part of you are carrying grief from something ending, and while you know that this is dead and gone, you still hold onto it with the fear of not finding something better. this may have been someone LITERALLY disappearing from your life; ghosting you, moving, a break-up, death, etc. or it could have been a metaphorical movement...growing distant, growing apart. many of you are clever people, and you know that this was simply a lesson, if it wasn't it wouldn't have felt like it was coming to an end. but a lot of you are scared to move onto something new, and you're clenching this corpse in between your hands. for the second part of you, this is something new, that seems better than before. and the card discernment fell out, so a lot of you are being quiet about this. you don't wanna scare it off; it's like a baby animal, and you're just observing it without coming closer. the last phase of your life left you tired, and you're just hesitant to do anything more than observe. a lot of you asked about a specific person, i think. there's this whole melancholy vibe i'm getting...a song that popped up is 'i'll see you when we're both not so emotional' so i think that a lot of you did have strong ties to this person, and it felt like a part of you disappeared when they did. it was a painful, raw ending, and a part of you might have wanted revenge, might have wanted to show them that they hurt you so deeply, because to them it seems like they didn't care that much. but this is me telling you that wayyy better things are in the future, because now you're equipped to hold more instead of messes that were NEVERRR yours to fix. you are...genuine? yes. kind? yes. reliable? yes. but the past few years, all of these traits have soured and you overdo things as a way to escape the fact that you feel like you can't be loved simply by existing. so that's something that'll come to the next phase of your life. and another thing, whatever fell away, it's a good thing. you don't need it as badly as you think you do. the other situation/person did, and just because you're deeply empathetic and can understand that, doesn't mean you have to go back. you don't always have to stay in tragedies. for those of you who are like '...i didn't lose anything'. this could be more metaphorical. innocence. movement. something going away. and the same thing applies to you, not to cling onto the past, and to look forward; way better things are coming, and now you have the hands to hold them.

signs: red roses. dreams about falling. crescent moon. something breaking; plates, glass. led lights. striped cats. highways.

pile 3 - bed.

the way that you guys are deeply loyal reminds me of dogs who care for their owners long after that person has betrayed them...stop giving your all to someone who keeps disappointing and hurting you, and someone who could live without you. this message may not apply to you; just some in this pile. anyways...onto the actual reading. a lot of you feel like everything is finally coming together. alignment, though it may not be what you thought you'd get when you imagined your dream life. loss has happened. but so has gain. right now, you guys are stepping into such powerful energy, and everyone can see it. it's like you molted; and now you shine brightly. 'the sun', 'the goddess', 'the emperor'...so yeah. you ARE all that. you got that confidence recently for a reason!! however, a lot of you feel alone. staring at everyone else forming connections, finding their partners...especially with the summer being here and all those mushy gushy romantic things trending. and your hope is wavering, with this situation, this person. however, seven of wands - KEEP THAT HOPE!!! don't lose it. keep it until you can't, and i know y'all can keep it forever. whatever it is that you want, it takes time. and you don't wanna rush it. and a lot of you also feel insecure; like you don't deserve it. but both 'the sun' and 'the star' fell out, and on the star, a woman is looking at it. so how i interpret it is that you think something is far above you 'cause it's a star, but you are the SUN. which is also a star. which means y'all are on the same damn level. so don't be insecure. i know it's way easier said than done, and i know you guys are ACTIVELY WORKING ON IT (woo! i am very proud of you), but this is just a reminder. you guys are actively progressing towards this thing...and while it may not end up as quickly as you want it, or in the exact way you want it, you will still end up feeling the fulfillment you imagined you would at the end. however, a lot of you have something going on that you know is not right for you, and is a grave that you could fall into...this is your sign to say no to that. you know it's a pattern that you'd fall into, maybe generational. SAY NOOOO. this new thing and this thing, they're different, and in your gut, you know that you have to choose the previous one. you can't fall back into old patterns. they're very hard to rework. you got this. by the way, you are wayyy more lovable than you think. you can be loved in every way you dream of. okay byebye!!

signs: cds. mousy. angry men. shakespeare. silver necklaces. fences. butterflies. radiohead. veins. pictures.

[whokilledsamara]

you should do a nsfw alphabet for dogday? :)

(but don’t tire yourself out, okay? ♡

you deserve a break every once in a while !!)

DOGDAY NSFW ALPHABET

a Dogday x reader list. {an: thank you sm for your kind words, i appreciate the support! happy to write for my fellow readers.}

warnings!: not too much for this one, dogday is a sweet boy. nsfw is a big one though! he is very vanilla, {ironic} and its just basic sex. this takes place BEFORE you and him escape. so yes, yall are still in the factory. {if you want me to do one from after the factory or something than send in the request and ill redo it} both amab and afab choices for reader!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

oh boy. this man goes OVERBOARD with aftercare. he does everything he can for being in an old warehouse. so dont expect to just walk off without him doing every possible thing he can.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he loves everything about you, so other than your face it would probably be your hips. doesnt matter the shape/size, he loves them.

on him it would be difficult to pick, being an anthropomorphic dog is kind of hard to deal with. if anything he likes his hands, big and strong.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

as expected due to the sheer size of his body, he cums a lot. depending on where you want it is where he will put it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

hes a very vanilla based guy {as said, ironic} and doesnt have many dark and deep fantasies. though he would like to be topped, so i guess thats one.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

buddy is clueless. even as human this poor dog had NO game. he's definitely surprised you even want to do it with him, which will make him try his absolute hardest to please you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy style. self explanatory.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

hes serious but hes also very awkward at the beginning, though he gets more used to it after a while.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

hes covered in fur so there isnt much of a difference, but his groin area has more fur than usual {almost as a happy trail}, if that answers your question.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

very romantic guy. probably more romantic than sexual. he just loves you a lot.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

never has. and probably never will as long as he has you. his sex drive is almost none as he isnt made to do that. but you tend to spark some kind of reaction from him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

petplay, collars, dom and sub, maybe more depending on how far you guys go.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

not many options, so preferably secluded places that you wont be bothered.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

you in general, but also his ears being scratched. i mean he is a dog after all.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

scat, vomit, or anything abuse related.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he has a big tongue surprisingly, so he does prefer to go down on you. wether that be eating you out or sucking you off {more like licking you off} then he is good. as for receiving, he loves it, but he feels bad watching you struggle. though a part of him is attracted to it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends, usually he is slow as to not hurt you, but if you ask him to go faster he will.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he doesnt HATE them, i mean, sex is sex and especially with you its amazing, but he prefers to take his time on you. he will never say no to a quickie tho.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

no. he doesnt want to risk hurting you, and therefore he will do everything to prevent it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

his stamina doesnt deflate due to his dog like nature, but he tends to stop after two rounds as to keep you safe.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he is a toy, so no.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he likes to jokingly tease, not really intentionally making you horny, but this poor boy CANNOT take you teasing him. he becomes a blubbering mess and pants heavily.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not loud, but he growls and grunts. not in an aggressive way of course.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he really likes dry humping. like yes go up to him and shush him while you hump his thigh, hell yea.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

goodness gracious. i guess being over 8 foot tall really helps you pack somewhere else. your poor hole(s) honestly, hes over 12 inches LONG and probably around 6 inches wide. hes a girthy boy.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

as said earlier, he wasnt made for sex, so its not very high. he happily obliges for you though. and you definitely get him going.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

hes a sun dog, and doesnt need sleep. but he does enjoy an occasional nap every now and then. that being said he loves sleeping with you.

{ created by @whokilledsamara }

[galaxy-fleur]

༺ Warm Comfort ༻

Pairing: Post-ID!Leon/fem reader. Summary: Following his fallout with Claire, Leon finds himself struggling with increasing uncertainty about his choices. Falling back into his worst habits, he seeks out the only person who may have the answer to his inner conflict. What you give him proves to be far more invaluable than any answer could ever be. Notes: Hurt/comfort, smut. Canon-complient, set straight after the events of Infinite Darkness. Exploration of Leon's mental state post-ID. Ambiguous relationship: Leon and reader are implied to have had an unlabeled romantic/sexual relationship prior. Leon and reader are friends and coworkers. Reader has non textured hair. Drunk comfort sex with many feelings. Kitchen sex. Word count: ~ 20k words. AO3 Link. Credits: dividers by @/saradika-graphics.

You were all too used to receiving unexpected calls late in the night. In fact, they were really just a commodity by this point. Unfortunately for you, a possible call to action could happen at any time of day, regardless of your schedule. Whether you were bright-eyed and ready to take on the world, or barely out of bed and hardly stringing two words together.

No rest for the wicked, as one would say.

You were therefore not at all surprised when the all too familiar sound of your ringtone going off rudely broke through your cosy oblivion of sleep. Very disoriented and kind of annoyed, yes, but not at all surprised. This exhausting routine of yours was nothing new. You didn't even have to open your eyes as your hand reached for the vibrating device on its own accord, bringing it up to your ear and pressing the receiver button with practiced ease.

"-Yes?"

...Although making your voice not sound all groggy and slurred was still a struggle.

You weren't surprised to hear your name on the other end of the line.

You were surprised by the voice that said it.

Much to your bewilderment, it wasn't even one of the superiors you spoke with recently, nor was it your representative.

No, it was Leon. Though, your name was quickly followed up by a hurried ramble, a bit uncharacteristic for his usual charming flare you'd expect to hear from him: "-Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd actually pick up, I-"

Your thoughts and senses were still dulled by sleep, so you blinked your eyes open quickly to try and wake yourself up a bit. Your initial thought at the sound of his voice in your ear was that something really bad must have happened. A new major bioterrorism attack, or some macabre conspiracy, or someone's gruesome death, or... well. Anything of similarly grim caliber. As a result, you quickly jumped up in your bed, something you quickly regretted after being met with a harsh rush of vertigo hitting you with a vengeance.

With your eyes straining and your body swaying softly, you suddenly became vividly aware that you were very much half asleep.

"Wh- Huh?" Much like him, you slurred your words together, although in your case, it was due to sleep. You could practically hear your brain working, invisible gears groaning and creaking as they stirred to life with very heavy reluctance on their part. "Leon? What's going on?"

Your drowsy, perplexed tone made him laugh dryly and without any real humor to it. His voice still sent a small jolt through you, like electricity sparking through a live wire, even though you were not fully there yet. It's been a while since you two talked...

"God, I’m a mess…" You heard him take a sip of... something. You guessed it was not a glass of water or apple juice. Probably. He sounded more like he was talking to himself here. "It’s three in the morning and I’m drunk, and I called you. You should’ve just ignored me. I’m just… I’m sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess."

You grumbled and shook your head, but he couldn't exactly see that over the phone, of course.

"No, no, it's okay." Looking back at the electric clock on your night stand, you rubbed at your eyes. It was, indeed, three in the morning. Witching hour. "Why are you calling so late? Are you okay?"

Another puff of dry laughter left Leon's lungs. You got a feeling that he was upset. Your most recent encounter with him wasn't particularly... pleasant. But, in spite of everything, you still remained on the phone with him. Your first instinct was still to ask if he's alright. Of course it was, it always was. Because you were genuinely concerned. Because you cared. Because he was important to you, even if he was a frustrating asshole at times.

Though, your inability to grow a spine was something you kind of despised about yourself. But that was a thought you kept for yourself.

"I’m drunk, calling you in the middle of the night to beg you to talk to me…" Leon admitted sarcastically. "So, I think we both know the answer to that question. But really… I don’t want to talk about me. I just want to hear you talk."

That made you frown as common sense and reason gradually resurfaced in your thoughts through the fading haze of sleep.

"...Leon, are you okay?" You asked again, but with greater intent this time. This was not at all his usual behavior. For him to pull a stunt like this all of the sudden... This was a first. You were kind of seriously concerned for him now. More than usual, anyways. "And why are you drinking so late in the night? It's three am."

Once more, Leon let forth a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. It made you wince just hearing it.

"Like I said… I’m a mess. Always have been, really. Remember you used to say I was a 'workaholic', or that I didn’t know how to take a damn break. But I had you. At least," he swallowed, the sound more bitter than natural. It made your heart ache. He was rambling, talking unrelated nonsense, but you didn't have the heart to interrupt. Or maybe you just didn't know what to say to any of that. "-Remember you said I needed to have things in my life besides work…? That I’d work myself to death, if you didn’t remind me."

"-I didn't say that... I said you should take better care of yourself," you corrected him softly, not at all liking how he was rephrasing something that you said to him out of genuine concern into harsh criticism. "And that was, what... three months ago, I think? Why are you bringing it up now?"

There was a long period of silence during which you swore could almost hear his thoughts whirling inside his head, chaotic and frantic.

══════════════════

"…I miss you. I’ve wanted to hear your voice for weeks."

When he heard just how pitiful he sounded, he practically groaned, cringing inwardly.

Another heavy moment of silence followed. He could only guess that you were probably struggling to comprehend his words with your sleep-tinted mind as you tried to put them all together like scattered puzzle pieces. Something tugged at his heart a little.

Well, the answer to your previous question was painfully obvious. He was very clearly not okay. He didn't like how borderline whiny he sounded, his filter all but gone thanks to the fog of alcohol clouding his judgement. And three months...? He just had to blurt out something this specific, huh? You'd definitely ask him even more uncomfortable questions now. You weren't dumb. After all, that's why he liked you so much. It's not like you had any idea of his latest assignment. Or, more accurately, the awful parody of it. He didn't want to talk about it, and yet he also kind of did.

It was annoying.

"Why didn't you come see me then?"

As you blurted it out, the question seemed a little dumb, but it was excruciatingly direct, and there was absolutely no way for him to dodge it. To your credit, your own judgment was probably a bit clouded, albeit by sleep residue, not alcohol.

Leon could really only shrug to himself at that. The only person in the world who still wanted him for whatever reason, and he turned you away. With him, this seemed to have turned into a really annoying pattern at this point. What a fool.

"Because- I didn’t… I couldn’t just…" He was having trouble coming up with the right words to explain himself. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he continued: "...Because I’m an idiot and I didn’t think it would be fair to you. Or... something like that."

The words left a sour taste in his mouth. And it was not one he enjoyed.

Silence. It felt almost familiar to him by now. What he blurted out was both too much and not enough. He wasn't really giving you nearly enough time or opportunity to unpack all of that properly right now. He was well aware that he wasn't treating you very fairly here.

He licked over his chapped lips, his throat suddenly dry and parched despite the amber liquid coating his tongue just seconds prior. Less out of annoyance and more as an effort to prevent his thoughts from getting any more out of control while he awaited your reply. Or you hanging up on him. If you did, he wouldn't hold it against you. He'd do the same to himself, probably.

"Well that's... silly," you muttered out finally. You were far too sleepy for complex, meaningful conversations, it seemed. That was good in a way. He was not all there, either. Furthermore, a lump formed in the middle of his throat from these few words of yours alone. So, he quit trying to pretend he was in any way fine. By the sound of it, you were just saying what your first thought was. It was better than suffocating silence, at least. "I would be happy to see you."

Leon looked at the empty space in his apartment and blinked flatly. He just… didn’t expect that. He was waiting for you to get upset with him. A very well deserved reaction in response to him for calling you at three in the goddamn morning like this. He thought you would tell him not to call again. Let him know just how much you were annoyed with him. But you… wanted to see him?

Even in his inebriated state, that seemed just too good to be true.

"-Wait, really?" He asked bluntly. He was not all that bothered by the obvious surprise in his voice that made him sound almost like a child. He nearly snapped out of his daze now. He actually had a chance. The fact that you still wanted to see him for whatever reason was a blessing in and of itself. In spite of everything he put you through. He couldn't make a mess of this. He swallowed. Then, consequences be damned, he just went for it: "Then… Can I come see you? Now?"

On your end, there was yet another pause. While your words were genuine, you probably did not expect him to take them this literally. As he waited for your response, he looked back at the clock again, as if the awfully late hour might suddenly shift backwards with the mere power of his will alone.

"Now? It's three in the morning," you repeated in a rather straightforward manner that rivaled his own.

But even though Leon knew it was utterly ridiculous, he didn't really to care.

"Please," he uttered, his gruff voice exuding a sense of desperation. A rather pathetic one, but, again, he just couldn't bring himself to care right now. He was already so very lonely and inebriated when he contacted you. There was no dignity left to salvage. So, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of his couch. "I just… I really want to see you. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. I can be there in half an hour or less if you let me."

You let out a deep sigh, and he stared out the window for a while. Well, it didn't look like there was any rain at least. God, he didn't think his night would turn out this way. However, he couldn't help but wish for you to lack the the heart to say no to him. At least not right now. Who knows what he'd do if you say no. Or rather... how much more he'd drink. It made him feel a bit guilty, as it was not your damn responsibility to deal with him or help him feel better when he was the one that got himself in this situation in the first place.

But... He was only human, at the end of the day. No matter how much he wanted to pretend to be nothing but a shield or a weapon.

"...Alright. But you are not driving, you hear me? Take a cab."

Without even realizing that he had been holding his breath while awaiting your answer, Leon let out a deep exhale of sheer relief. He was expecting you to decline, but you didn't. In fact, he gets to see you once more. It was more than he deserved for a man like himself.

"Alright, fine then. I’ll take a cab. But you... might need to come and unlock the door for me," he said, a hint of a sarcastic smile tugging at his lips.

Leon hung up before you could respond, immediately going to grab his wallet and keys off the table. He got to his feet, stumbling a little as his sense of balance suddenly seemed a little wrong. He was definitely drunk, but he was not going to let that keep him from seeing you. So, with a bit more effort than he would like, he eventually left his apartment in one piece and headed out outside, what little remained of his pride be damned.

He didn't do much else on the quiet drive there, his mind far too occupied by the mere idea of seeing you again. It wasn't exactly a joyful or memorable moment when you last saw each other in person. While it wasn't a full-blown fight, he did end up pushing you away when you were really just trying to help. At the time, he thought it was for your own good. A feeling that quickly morphed into deep regret and shame soon after.

...He just kept repeating those same old mistakes over and over again with people he cared about, huh?

He tried to push that bitter thought out of his mind. The cab eventually arrived at your apartment after some time that felt like hours upon hours to his muddied mind. He pulled out his wallet and hurriedly paid off a generous tip to the poor guy that had to deal with his stink of booze through the whole drive, before getting out of the car, stumbling a little in the process.

He could only hope he wouldn't fall down the stairs getting there. Showing up with a bloodied nose would be even more embarrassing.

Once he successfully climbed the stairs to your door with no unlucky accidents, he fished out his phone, staring at the lock screen for a good minute or two, almost like he was debating whether he should turn back on this stupid idea or not.

He realized that his fingers were trembling a little as he typed a short message to you:

'I’m outside.'

He suddenly found it difficult to accept that he was actually doing this. It seemed almost surreal. In a bad or a good way, he couldn't really tell yet. Either way, before his thoughts could spiral any further, you opened the door and he quickly met your familiar eyes waiting for him on your porch.

"...Hi."

The mere sight of you made his heart skip a beat. Although it should have been obvious in hindsight, he still could hardly believe you actually opened the door for him. That you were here, in front of him, and you still looked as stunning as ever. He didn't even care that he woke you up at this ungodly hour anymore, or that he was probably ruining your already poor sleep schedule with his visit. The fact that you were here was all that mattered. That you were real.

He couldn't help but just... stare at you for a moment, like an idiot. He hasn't seen you in months, and even though it was the middle of the night you still looked so painfully beautiful to him. Even if your bed hair was horribly untidy and you were wearing some sleep-crinkled pajamas, you still looked absolutely breathtaking to him.

"I... Uh, hey," he managed to croak out eventually. This wasn't like him. He's seen and experienced far too much to be anxious around anyone. But you weren't just anyone, were you. You were something very special to him.

Before he could say anything else, he stumbled forward, one of his feet catching on the threshold. He instinctively extended a hand to grasp the door frame in order to prevent himself from falling flat on his face in front of you. But instead, his hand ended up landing on your shoulder, his palm resting on your bare skin between your tank top strap and your collarbone.

You also staggered back, keeping him upright with your hands flying up to rest on his chest, steadying him. There was no hiding his drunken state. Stumbling over anything at all was a clear sign of exactly that for an agent whose reflexes were generally on par with a cat's. You sighed, and it was hard to ignore the note of disappointment in your voice: "...Jesus, you can't even walk straight? How much did you drink?"

At least he arrived at your apartment in one piece. That made him feel grateful enough as it is.

Leon's face brimmed with a sheepish smile. The alcohol made him feel warm, but it also made him feel extremely humiliated and embarrassed. Of all things, he was definitely not used to requiring assistance to just remain upright.

"I... I lost count after the fifth shot," he confessed, his cheeks flushing with shame. He should probably be a bit more cautious with his words, but he couldn't bear the thought of being alone with his thoughts anymore. The feeling of being alone. Even if you were just a figment of his imagination, created from excessive alcohol and lack of sleep. That was better than nothing at all, in his opinion.

"Leon..."

Your disapproving glance told him everything he needed to know, you didn't have to keep saying anything more.

But he felt the warmth of your touch through his shirt as he looked down at your hands still resting on his chest gently but securely. He yearned to lean into it, to step forward, wrap his arms around you, pull you close, bury his face in the crook of your neck and hold onto you tightly. However, he was well aware that he could not make such a thing a reality. Not like this. Not with the way he was acting. Instead, he stepped back, attempting to regain his composure. And failing terribly. But he could at least try to put up a believable enough front for your sake.

"I'm sorry. I know shouldn't have come here like this. I should've just called a friend or something. But I... I couldn't. I needed to see you. Really badly," he muttered, his words slurring together. As if he even had some other friend to call. Just a few hours ago, he shoved away the only person who could be considered as one. He tried to smooth his hair out by running his hand through it. It didn't really work. He was still all messed up. An emotional and inebriated mess. But he was here. With you. That was the only thing that counted.

You frowned. Although, despite him looking worse for wear, surprisingly, you didn't start making a fuss about it. Not to his face, at any rate. He'd take what he could get.

"Doesn't matter now that you're here already. Come on."

With a hand on his back to keep him from losing his balance again, you moved to usher him in. Leon followed your footsteps inside, nodding nimbly. He chose to bite his tongue even if it was a little excessive of you, in case he stumbled over something again. You were always very cautious, not wanting to take any risks. You definitely wouldn't have let him come over in the first place if you had known just how inebriated he really was. He didn't sound too drunk over the phone. However, it was much more difficult to pretend to be sober in person than it was over the phone.

When he finally entered your place, he looked around thoroughly. It looked just as he remembered it. Cozy and comfortable, with subtle touches of you strewn all over. He smiled, feeling a bit more comfortable now that he was here.

"Seriously, thanks for letting me come over. I know it's late and I'm... probably not in the best state to be visiting anyone." He did a poor job at trying to hide his embarrassment in his drunk state. His attempt at being humorous wasn't quite successful, either. He was way too intoxicated to be his usual witty self.

A tiny sigh escaped your lips as you shook your head. If you were disappointed with him, you didn't show it outwardly. Which was more than he most likely deserved. "Well, I'd rather have you here where I can keep an eye on you. You'll make it up to me some other time."

He looked around your apartment again, soaking in all the sights and smells he remembered. It was comforting to be here. Interacting with you again. He had absolutely no desire to leave. He wanted to stay here. Forever, really. But he knew that he couldn't. He would eventually have to return back home. Back to his empty apartment and lonely life. His chest hurt at the thought.

He turned to face you with hazy, unfocused eyes.

"...I missed you. I missed you... a lot," he said, his voice thick with underlying emotion. He couldn't care less for appearing strong right now. "Honestly, I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't answered my call. If you hadn't let me come over. I just... I needed to see you. I know it's selfish and shitty of me, but..."

As you silently looked him over, you sighed again. While you probably weren't expecting him to show up all pristinely neat and tidy this late in the night, it was also pretty obvious that he wasn't feeling well, to put it mildly. On the other hand, he assumed that it was pretty clear from the very start of the call.

"It's okay, you're here now. So..." you started, obviously unsure on where to begin. A shared sentiment between you two. "...What happened?"

Leon's eyes widened slightly, wincing slightly. He didn't expect you to ask him that. At least not so directly. Not when he was already feeling so uncomfortably vulnerable. He inhaled deeply as he tried to collect his jumbled thoughts. Where does he even begin? With the outbreak in the White House? With the submarine job? With his argument with Claire? Or with the endless nights of drinking himself into oblivion, just to forget his fuckups?

In annoyance, he tugged at his hair a little as he ran a shaky hand through it.

"I... I don't know where to start. It's been a fucking nightmare, to be honest," he admitted lowly. He started pacing around your living room a tad, unable to stand still despite the wobbliness in his legs. His body seemed tense, as if he was carrying a burden he just couldn't shake off his shoulders. Which... wasn't all that far from the truth. He huffed: "My last job... it was bad. Really bad. I... lost people. People I cared about."

Literally and figuratively.

He couldn't help but grimace as Shen Mei's face flashed before his eyes, her reckless desperation in achieving justice that was never to be properly fulfilled weighing heavily on him. A desperation that Claire would've honored, damn all the risks. She was recklessly righteous like that. However, for him, those risks were just too great.

Was it selfish of him to prioritize the safety of someone he cared for over the greater good? Perhaps. He didn't know anymore. He didn't even know if there was greater good in this world, to be completely honest.

As you looked at him quietly, your eyes softened, the frown that was previously pulling your brows together slowly relaxing. With a soft sigh, you came up and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Even though it was a simple little gesture - one of the simplest ways to show someone you cared, really - it nevertheless made his breath hitch.

"...I'm sorry."

Although it was small, it was far more than the awful silence of his apartment. And maybe that was all he needed to hear right now, anyways. With a forceful swallow, he suppressed the memories that were just about to overwhelm him again and nodded, continuing.

"And then... Then there's Claire... We had a fight. A... pretty big one, I think. I'm not sure. I did something she didn't want me to do. I think... she's real mad at me. I don't blame her, honestly." He turned to you, his blue eyes muddled, filled with an ache that went deeper than just one unfortunate incident. "I'm just... I'm so tired. So fucking tired of all this. I'm sick of feeling like I'm... failing people. I don't know if I did the right thing. I thought I did, but... I don't know anymore."

Considering how much he was already intruding, he was borderline ranting to you at this point, pouring out far more than you should be hearing, but he couldn't stop. He didn't want to. His human, selfish side, which he usually kept under an iron lock and key, was now gaping wide open and demanding an answer. One that he wanted you to provide. Despite the fact that you shouldn't. Hell, you shouldn't have let him come over in the first place. And now he was torturing you with his inebriated babbling, too.

However, you remained silent, simply rubbing slow, deliberate circles with your thumb over his shoulder. It was almost unfair how much he craved that. How selfishly he wanted to seek out more than just that.

"I'm sorry," you repeated, your voice quiet. Sympathetic. He was aware that you were merely saying this to show him that you were paying attention, to allow him to express himself freely, regardless of how sad or repulsive his words may be. An underlying 'go on, it's okay' that he did not really deserve. You were far too good for him, bless your heart.

He buried his face in his hands and practically collapsed onto your couch. He didn't care that he was probably being kind of messy. Getting this out was all that mattered to him. Getting all of this off his chest before it swallowed him whole.

"I just... I needed to see you. Needed to know that I'm not... alone in all this. That someone still cares. That I'm not just... a fraud now," he whispered, his voice muffled by his hands. "I really am sorry for barging in like this. For being a mess on you. I just... I didn't know where else to turn."

There was silence for a moment, broken only by his soft trembling breaths and the monotonous ticking of your wall-mounted clock. A part of him was scared to look up at you now. Another wanted to apologize and storm straight out the door. And another one on top of those two kept him seated on your couch, hoping for comfort you were not at all obligated to give him.

When he did not continue his tirade any further, you broke the silence with actual conversation: "It's alright. I'm glad you called. So... You had a fight with Claire? That's a... first. What happened?"

You promptly followed him to the couch. sitting a short distance away. He couldn't exactly blame you for focusing on that part. He was just as surprised by it as you were. Or, well... he would be. If he wasn't the sole reason behind that fight it the first place.

Leon looked up at you, his eyes puffy and red-rimmed from both the drinking and some unshed tears he didn't dare acknowledge. He wasn't sure why he was telling you this. Why was he giving you such an uncomfortably intimate glimpse into his heart? Yet, he was unable to stop himself. There was something about you that made him want to open up and let you in. Even if he knew he shouldn't.

He laughed joylessly. What happened, you say. Now that was a pandora's box if he ever saw one.

"God... Where do I even begin?" He grumbled, running a hand through his messy hair again. "I've messed up with her a lot lately. There was that covert mission I was assigned to, and..."

"-And?" This time, when he looked up at you again, you had your brow raised at him expectedly, stopping him in his tracks before he could cut himself off. He sighed resolutely. He understood what you were implying with no words being said. It wouldn't be fair on you for him to go silent on this when he just ranted out all his recent issues like you were his paid therapist. He ought to at least answer all of your questions. For better and for worse.

Nevertheless, the recollection of all the recent events made his stomach turn.

"...And that's not even the start of it."

"Well... you came all the way here and woke me up in the middle of the night. Might as well get on with it," you said, more as an encouragement than a demand. You leaned back against the couch cushions, keeping your gaze fixed on him.

So he started talking. And you listened. You listened to him disclosing the White House hacking and the following unexpected outbreak, the subsequent submarine mission, the treason and conspiracy, everything that could possibly go wrong going wrong all at once, Wilson's corruption, the covert use of B.O.W. in Penamstan, and Claire becoming entangled in the whole thing. And how he withheld the chip with apparent evidence of the government's involvement in the whole disaster, refusing to give it over to her to expose everything per her and Shen Mei's wishes.

He told you, of course, that he did that to protect her. After all, if Claire was to go public with it, she'd undoubtedly be put in great danger by many powerful people not wanting to get their dirty laundry out in the open for the world to see. And he knew how ugly that could get more intimately than anyone else. However, Claire's frustration was also entirely natural.

"...Sounds like you had one hell of a week," you muttered eventually, once there was nothing left to spill but his still aching heart.

Leon's eyes were fixed on the ceiling as he nodded numbly. Although he didn't see anything worthwhile up there, staring at nothing allowed him to concentrate on your words instead of his own messed up thoughts. To listen to the sound of your voice. Your words were comforting, even if they were still like a small punch to the gut.

"That's putting it mildly," he joked bitterly, his voice hoarse. "I fucked up. I fucked up badly. But I also... would do it all again. I'd still push her away. I... don't know what it says about me. And that scares me."

You reached out to him, sighing. This time, your hand landed straight on his knee, and it got that much harder to not read too deep into it. He was already doing it, hell. "...It says that you care. You did what you thought was best. Protecting someone you care for doesn't make you a bad person."

You both were aware of how insignificant this comfort really was. But it was better than nothing.

He raised his head, swiping at his eyes briefly. His skin felt hot and clammy. He was still sweating despite the coolness of your apartment. It was a cold, disgusting type of sweat than clung to his skin like invisible strings of cobweb. He blamed the alcohol, but he realized it was much more than just that. It was the burden of everything he has done. Everything he has not done. Everything he has witnessed. He has lost the closest person to a friend, and he had no one but himself to blame for it this time around.

Jason's words rang in his head for the countless time today, almost like a mockery of his unraveling state of mind.

"I keep... thinking if I was right or not. It was undeniable evidence that could've brought down the people responsible for everything that's happened. Everything that's still happening. She could have been right on this... you know?" he admitted, his voice shaking. "I did it to protect her, but... I don't know if that's enough."

"Well... Maybe you should put a bit more trust in her next time around?" You suggested softly, tilting your head a bit in his direction. If he wasn't already feeling vulnerable as hell, he'd probably be a bit insulted from you baby talking to him like this, like he'd break or something if you said one word harsher than needed. But... the bitter truth was that was exactly how he felt right now, and there was no place left for pride, or what little was left of it by this point. He raised his gaze at you, your eyes meeting. You continued: "I know how protective you can get, but... Claire is a strong woman. She can protect herself. Hell, sometimes you need to let someone else protect you for once."

You were right, of course you were right, he already knew all of that. But despite him knowing that, he chose to do what he did.

And he would do it again, too.

"How can I make this right with her, though? How can I fix this?" He knew that there was no simple solutions to this. No quick answers to the problem at hand. But he still couldn't help but hope that you would have some magical insight to any and all questions, just maybe. Some magical wisdom to guide him would be pretty damn helpful right about now. "I just... I know it's stupid, but... I don't want to lose her, too."

With another sigh, you moved slightly closer to place a hand on his shoulder.

"It's... a messy situation alright. But your heart was in the right place." You glanced away for a time, trying to think of the right words. You clearly really understood both sides of the argument here. Then again, it would be easy for anyone to relate with Claire. Having your choice taken away from you is not a pleasant experience, to say the least. Even if doing so meant protecting you. "You two will sort things out. Eventually. I know you will. Just give her time, hm?"

Leon let out a deep sigh of his own, his shoulders hunching under the weight of your words. He knew that you were right. He knew that he and Claire would eventually have to find a solution to move past this. For Claire to forgive him for the harm he has potentially caused by knowing inaction on his part. But right now, when everything was still so raw and hurtful, he found it hard to accept that.

His shoulders relaxed under your hand ever so slightly, though. It may have been small, yet it made a difference nonetheless. It was nearly frightening how easy it was to let loose in your presence, even if that meant being a pathetic mess. He breathed in deeply, then breathed out.

"...Yeah. I... I'm hoping we will." Leon glanced over at you again, examining you thoroughly for the first time in months. Your hand on his shoulder, the way your hair was pretty messy, your collarbones peeking out from under your tank top...

Seeing you like this, in this vulnerable state, was stirring up some old feelings within him. Feelings he had tried to push down for the last several months in hopes of getting over them. Feelings that were now coming back with a vengeance, particularly since you allowed him to enter your place at this hour for whatever reason.

There was another long stretch of silence during which you both simply sat. This silence was even more deafening at this late hour, with little to no noise coming from the streets outside or through the walls. It was obvious that you didn't know what to say or whether you should say anything at all. He didn't know if he was even truly seeking your advice on all of this, either. In any case, you had little to offer. The damage has already been done, and anything else you could say would either unfairly blame Claire for a perfectly justifiable reaction on her part, or kick him when he was already down. You didn't want to do either of those things. So, eventually, you just sighed and pat his shoulder encouragingly.

"...Do you want some tea? I made some just before you arrived."

Tea was the last thing he expected you to offer him at this moment. Nevertheless, after all the alcohol he's had, he found it strangely enticing to think of something warm and comforting in his gut. A small, half-hearted smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he nodded.

"Yeah, tea sounds good, actually. Thanks," he said softly. He rose, slighty swaying on his feet. But he was determined to get to the kitchen by himself, even though he was still a little unsteady on his feet. He was not willing to be any more of a burden to you than he already was tonight.

He followed you into the kitchen and leaned against the counter as you poured the tea silently. He had to steady himself with one hand on the countertop, the movement painfully awkward on his part. Still, he marveled at how your pajamas fit your shape as he watched you move around the tiny room. He swiftly reverted his gaze, though, feeling guilty for shamelessly ogling you like this.

He cleared his throat, hoping to switch his focus to something more appropriate: "-So, uh, how have you been? I know I've been a bit... absent lately."

He was well aware that during the past few months, he has been a terrible friend to you, constantly avoiding you and vanishing without notice. He's been so preoccupied with his own issues that he wasn't there for you when you needed him. It was unfair to you. It was still unfair to you. He felt like he was endlessly indebted to you, though that was a sentiment he strangely didn't dislike all that much. After all, being indebted to you meant securing a connection with you. Even if it wasn't a particularly good one.

You shrugged slightly, totally focused on the art of making tea to notice his blatant staring. Or maybe you just purposefully didn't mention it to him.

Though... simply pouring remaining tea for him and adding a couple teaspoons of sugar was hardly art. The tea really only required some pouring and stirring on your part, which took no more than five minutes at most, since it was technically already prepared in advance, with your own unfinished cup still sitting on the table nearby. You probably helped yourself to some tea as you waited for him to arrive.

"Fine. You know nothing much goes on in my life when I'm off duty. I've been stuck at home for the most part." You moved his cup over to him: "...Blackberry."

Leon accepted it from you, encircling the cup with his fingers as the warmth permeated his palms. He lifted it up to his nose, inhaling the sweet blackberry aroma. It was a cozy scent that took him back to the carefree Sundays he used to spend preparing breakfast for the two of you in his own kitchen. Though he kept that thought to himself. Savoring the taste on his tongue, he took a sip. Not his usual choice of beverage, but it was pleasant nonetheless.

"Thanks," he murmured, taking another sip of the tea. It was hot and pleasantly bitter, though it had a little too much sugar for his liking. But he wasn't complaining. You've always enjoyed your sweets, so he was not at all surprised. He was just glad that you were even allowing him to be at your place so late at night.

He silently took a couple more sips of his tea. He glanced around the room for a moment, studying the setup. All things considered, it appeared really minimalistic in contrast to his own place, which has been rather disorganized lately. Everything was more... neat and tidy in here. More orderly. Everything had a designated spot for it, and it stayed in that spot most of the time. It stood in stark contrast to his own apartment, where appliances would get misplaced almost on the daily, what with his mind being far too occupied to keep track of things. He turned his gaze back to you once more, eyeing you in the charged silence that now fell over the room.

As you took a sip of your own tea, leaning on the table a little distance away from Leon, he couldn't help but admire you in silence. There was a certain tiredness to your eyes, but you were just as beautiful as ever. Hell, he found himself so distracted by you that he forgot to drink his tea, his eyes too caught up in your familiar features. Eventually, he set his cup down on the table next to you and spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you... ever think about us?"

You were obviously uncertain about what to say or if you should say anything at all to that. This was hardly a normal circumstance, after all. And your mind was still muddled just enough with the remnants of sleep to dull your usual sensitivity to long, awkward silences. You blinked into the distance a couple of times, but you did turn your head to look at him: "...Us?"

"Yeah. Us." His eyes were fixed on you, searching for any sign of recognition or understanding. He was aware that the topic was loaded and that, given his current state, it might not be suitable to ask. No, it was definitely not suitable to ask. But he couldn't help himself. He shouldn't be here with you in the middle of the night in the first place. It was not a good thing when everything was so honest and raw between you.

As he swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes fell to the floor. He was fully aware of the danger he was in here, but his mind was far too clouded with alcohol and, quite honestly, he was unable to bring himself to care at the moment. His gaze met yours again as he approached you slowly, carefully. You were still too far away from him for his liking. "...Do you ever think about us? About... what we used to have?"

Without uttering a word or displaying any visible discomfort, you maintained eye contact with him. It was hard to read you. He hoped it was a good sign, though.

Finally, you sighed and put down your cup as well.

"I... Sometimes," you admitted, seemingly deciding to be honest, even if it meant making things messy. You looked away, almost sheepish, in a way. "Isn't that only natural, though?"

In an effort to get even closer to you, he leaned in. He longed for your touch. He yearned for it. For months now, he's been without anyone to rely on, unable to hold onto anyone for almost as long. In his buzzed out state, this sense of absence was nearly excruciating. Even if it was only for tonight, he wanted you to be the one to filll that absence inside him. He wanted you to want to fill it for him.

"Do you want the truth? I think you were... You were the only one who understood me the way that you did," he mumbled quietly, the alcohol making him feel more vulnerable than usual.

You looked unsure of whether or not to do anything as you watched him steadily come closer and closer. That is, you had no actual intention of doing anything about it. You didn't mind his close proximity. The issue was primarily about boundaries. Despite the fact that he was essentially doing nothing. So far. So, you allowed him to move in, the kitchen feeling just a little bit smaller as a result.

"...You’re saying it like it's different now," you muttered quietly due to the quiet of your apartment and his closeness alike. "You're still important to me. It's not like that has changed."

Leon's heart skipped a beat. He was expecting a gentle rejection, maybe a soft turn down of his advances, hell, anything but this. Instead, here you were, communicating to him that you still thought highly of him. That he was still important to you, for whatever reason. He felt a steady wave of warmth spread through his chest, making his insides buzz with nervous energy he hasn't felt in a while. It was more than he could have ever imagined. His eyes were now fully locked with yours as he stepped closer to you again. Now he was dangerously close. He was so close to you that he could almost feel your breath waffling across the skin of his cheeks softly. It was intoxicating. In a way no liquor could ever be.

"...I know," he murmured, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. He's missed this. He's missed you. "You're still important to me, too."

You appeared surprised, but, once again, you did nothing to stop him. Insead, you glanced down at his hand, which was now gently holding onto yours, testing the waters wordlessly. You did not jerk your hand away from his, nor did you push him off to create some much needed distance between you.

Instead, you seemed... almost puzzled? Stunned? Unsure? He didn't know.

He just knew that, as you gazed up at him once more, your hand still warm and soft in his own, he briefly forgot how to to breathe.

"...Leon?"

He silently looked into your eyes for a few more seconds as he waited for the moment to pass. There was an unspoken sense of tension brewing between you in this moment, and he knew that you felt it too. A charged moment of suppressed need and longing, of unspoken feelings that he has been attempting to repress for months but could no longer control.

So, he didn't try to control them anymore.

He leaned in, his nose almost touching yours, throwing all caution to the wind. He waited a second, then two, then three, then four. And when you did not try to pull away from him, his lips cautiously brushed against yours, causing his eyes to flicker closed. Your breath hitched a little the moment your mouths met, a subtle sound that he eagerly swallowed. Although he was careful, he was not at all hesitant. This weightless kiss alone was making him feel as though he was drowning. God, he has missed the sensation of your mouth against his own so much. Your lips were soft, and warm, and they faintly tasted of blueberry tea, sending a sharp, pleasant shiver down his spine, one that ended up spreading throughout his entire body. As he pulled away, he whispered your name against your lips, the sound of it tethering him back to reality.

And, oh, for this brief, fleeting moment, what a lovely reality it was.

It was not like he surprised you or anything. He was very unhurried with his every step, giving you ample opportunities to express your discomfort, should you want to. Additionally, you trusted Leon to back off if necessary. But... you didn't do anything. You purposefully didn't do anything to stop this from happening. He didn't really know why, but you clearly didn't mind him being so close. If it weren't for the ensuing repercussions of that.

"...What... is this exactly?" You whispered eventually.

Leon held his breath and opened his eyes to look at you. He saw the confusion and hesitation swimming in your gaze, and he suddenly felt shitty for putting you in this situation in the first place. Even though he was aware that he was going too far, he couldn't stop. He did not want to. Your hand shouldn't be in his, and he shouldn't be so close to you. But, God, was he too weak-willed to do the right thing right now.

He was tired of doing the right thing in spite of his own desires.

Struggling to find the appropriate words to convey even a fourth of the chaos raging in his mind, he swallowed hard. He didn't intend to scare you or cause you any discomfort, but he couldn't deny the feelings that have been accumulating inside of him for so long. He could detect the underlying strain in your voice, which was a clear indication of your own internal conflict as well. He couldn't help but notice that you were not moving away from him, either. You seemed almost... curious to see where things would go, if anything.

Or perhaps he was simply deceiving himself with this.

"This...?" He asked, his own voice still barely above a whisper. "This is me being selfish. This is me wanting you, even if it's only for one night."

Your lips parted as though to speak, but then closed again, your eyes widening a little. At least you were not yelling at him. "...Why?"

The answer to that was fairly simple.

As he spoke, he moved in closer, his lips brushing your ear: "Because I've missed you. I've missed you so much it hurts."

You swallowed. His words left very little room for interpretation. He made it very clear what he intended to do. If you let him. Which was good, but his words also left you very little room to be vague yourself. And you loved being pretty vague with him.

"Doesn't seem like a very wise thing to do," you murmured.

Leon's heart sank a little. He knew full well that this was not a very wise thing to do. Far from it. As far as it could be. He also knew that he was going way too far and actively endangering your friendship with this. As if he could even afford that, when he had so few people to call his friends left in the first place. And after today, there would be one fewer of them. But he was powerless to stop himself. His affections for you were making him stupid, and alcohol was making him reckless and irresponsible on top of that. He was acutely aware of the need to withdraw from you before it was too late, but he was unable to do so.

"...I know," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "But I can't help myself. I haven't been able to think straight since I came home."

As you swallowed again, your throat slightly bobbed. He didn't even try to hide the way his gaze followed the movement, transfixed.

"Yeah, but... Is right now really the best time for this?"

You were acting responsibly and sensibly. It would be commendable if it didn't leave him as frustrated as it did right now.

He inhaled deeply while trying - and failing - to regain his composure.

"-Right now, all I want is to be close to you." He paused for a moment, which gave you another chance to back off if you wanted to. He was hoping that you wouldn't do that, though. He was hoping you felt even a small portion of what he was feeling right now. "If you don't want this, tell me to stop."

That caused your eyes to widen a little and your face to briefly flash with genuine surprise. A part of him felt bad for putting you on the spot like this. But he needed a definitive response from you. And he needed it now. Your mouth opened, then shut: "Leon, I-"

"-Tell me to go home if that's what you want. Because right now, I don't think I have the strength to leave unless you tell me to."

You seemed conflicted as you stared back at him, holding your breath. Of course, he got that. It was difficult to be sensible and accountable when he was so close, overwhelming all your senses. When he came over, you definitely didn't have this in mind. You exhaled at last: "...You're making this very hard for me."

He felt a sense of guilt for putting you in this situation, but he also felt a selfish glimmer of hope. You would have pushed him away by now if you really didn't want this. And yet, your hand was still resting in his own, your breath was still mingling with his.

He put his free hand on your cheek then and stroked the skin of your jawbone tenderly. He was keeping a close eye on your expression, trying to determine if you were being sincere or not. He wanted you to surrender so he could have you. Yet, he had no intention of hurting you or, god forbid, pressuring you into this, either.

Although... on some level, he supposed he was pressuring you right at this moment.

Guess he was a bastard after all.

"No one else is here," he whispered. "For once, we only answer to ourselves. So... just answer me. Tell me what you want. Whatever it is."

When you realized there wasn't really a way out of this, you sighed. In a figurative sense, of course. It wasn't like you were forced or pushed, but what you were forced to do was admit your inner feelings. You knew what you wanted. You just didn't know if you should act on it or admit it. It was difficult to pull away when he was so close, looking as beautiful as ever with those blue eyes of his, his hand warm and soft where it was touching your cheek. And you felt particularly drawn to be with him at this moment, after witnessing just how much he was hurting. Thus, you accepted defeat. In a sense.

"...I want to kiss you."

He searched your eyes for any sign of deceit or regret, but found none. Only an openness and sincerity that he has come to recognize over the years of your friendship. He had been so certain that you were going to tell him no. But to hear you genuinely express your desire for him? That you wanted this just as much as he did... It was almost too good to be true. You raised your head to look into his eyes as his fingers moved through your hair shakily.

"Then I think we should stop talking," he whispered.

And then he kissed you.

This time, you expected it, closing your eyes and leaning forward just an inch to meet him halfway as your mouths met again. He felt you shiver a tiny bit as you moved your lips over his in a tentative dance that grew more assured and bold as the seconds ticked by. He felt a rush of emotion and desire once your lips pressed against his own properly, fully. The taste was both bitter and sweet, a hint of alcohol lingering on his breath, mixing together with the sweetness of blueberry tea. You didn't appear to mind the strange combo.

He was only able to concentrate on the feel of your mouth against his as everything got delightfully hazy. The way you tasted, the scent of you, the way your hair felt between his fingers. He's missed all of this so much. The ache of loneliness he's suffered with over the past few months was finally feeling just a bit less hollow.

When you separated with a gentle sound of lips parting, the kiss was over. It didn't go further than that. At least you retreated before it did.

With hesitation, Leon breathed in, his eyes darting open to meet yours. He was still cradling your face in his hand, with his thumb gently brushing over your cheekbone. Even though he was finally holding you like this, he was still not ready to let go of you. The simple act of kissing you almost made his heart burst as his chest rose and fell faintly with every breath. There was a big part of him that longed for more. He's been feeling so utterly lonely for a while now, and he needed to get closer to you.

"That..." he murmured, breathless from the kiss, "...wasn't enough."

He examined you, looking over your untidy hair and Sligh flushed cheeks. You were stunning. There was no denying the simple beauty before him. And he needed you so much. To touch you, to feel you. He needed to be close to you. Closer. Close enough to forget where you ended and he began. His free hand grasped at your wrist, his fingers gently curling around it, his thumb brushing against your skin.

"Come here," he urged, pulling you toward him with no sense of subtlety.

You did just that, much to his surprise.

You shuffled closer to him and softly pressed your body up against his, your warmth reaching him through the barrier of clothes, a slight shiver jolting your shoulders at the contact. It wasn't much, considering that he was already standing pretty close. But this new level of intimacy, however tiny, still made him hold his breath for a second.

Like this, he could feel almost every dip and crevice, every inch of your form, fitting so perfectly with his own. He actively suppressed his need to groan outloud at the sensation of you being so close to him. Barely. Rather, he just held you against him by putting his hands securely around your waist. You reciprocating his affections was almost enough to make him feel weak at the knees. It was an overwhelming feeling to hold you in his arms again. You were overwhelming. With his chin now resting on top of your head, he leaned forward and blatantly inhaled the scent of your shampoo. He didn't bother to try and keep it subtle anymore.

"...You smell nice. Still that same shampoo?" he whispered against your hair, feeling you nod into him. It made him smile, the first genuine smile from him in a while now. He held you like this against him for a few moments longer, just allowing himself to enjoy the simple sensation of your soft and warm body pressing against him. He nevertheless yearned for more in spite of everything. He yearned to feel every part of you against him. Skin-to-skin. So, he moved his hands towards the bottom of your tank top and gently tugged at the hem: "Off."

Even though his objectives were quite obvious from the beginning, your breath still caught a little at the unexpected turn. However, he supposed this made it that much more real. But you still didn't move to get out of his grasp.

"You're pretty quick," you murmured, not really protesting nor encouraging. Though, you did that often. Maintaining a middle-ground stance without actively pursuing either option laid out for you on the table. He found this avoidance of yours pretty troublesome at times. Your inability to make a decision. "We haven't even kissed properly yet."

Through your shirt, his hands felt the warmth of your skin as they moved over your back now. He couldn't help but laugh at your words, though. Indeed, he was acting quite pushy. But he was impatient, and the thought of getting your clothes off was driving him crazy.

"I'm thirty years old," he whispered, planting soft little kisses against your jaw. "And you haven't touched me in months. I think I'm entitled some urgency here."

As he shifted ever closer, he slowly pressed you back against the kitchen counter, his body now flush against yours. The counter dug into your back a bit as you leaned back against it. Not that you were pushing against the idea. His hands were still lingering at the hem of your shirt, his breath leaving your skin heated.

"I want," he mumbled, lips brushing under your jaw now, making you tilt your head back with a soft exhale, "-to touch you. And I want you to touch me."

"I still want that kiss from you though," you murmured back, your fingers twitching at your sides slightly, as if you were unsure of what to do with them. Which... was partly true.

So, his hands seized both of your wrists and placed them firmly on his chest. Your breath hitched at the gesture, your heart doing a little flip in your chest as you looked back at him, feeling the steady warmth of his body beneath your palms.

"Touch me, then," he whispered, pressing himself further against your hands, silently encouraging you. "Anywhere you want. I'm yours, for tonight."

You definitely felt a certain way about his blatant eagerness, but you weren't quite sure how to outwardly respond to these feelings of yours.

"...That makes it sound a bit sad," you noted instead, your gaze wandering over him for a moment before returning back to his eyes. Your hands drifed downwards to his middle, then slid over his sides and back, until you lightly incircled your arms around his midsection under his leather jacket, bringing him in into a sort of an embrace, although there was still his undershirt serving as a barrier between you. Leon's breath caught at your touch. Of course, you were aware that this wasn't what he was looking for from you exactly. You let out a sigh: "...Like you're going to leave in the morning or something. Or I'll kick you out."

He moved in closer, his forehead resting softly against your own as he closed his eyes. He cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. His heart beat faster in his chest with every little touch you gave him, pumping fresh, heated blood through his veins, making him acutely aware of every little touch, every little sound.

"-And what if you do?" He mouthed, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his tone. "Kick me out in the morning, I mean."

At that, you wrinkled your nose, as if in complete bewilderment at the mere suggestion.

"Why would I do that?"

There was a glimmer of doubt in Leon's eyes as they opened back up to scan yours silently. This type of vulnerability was... kind of new to him, and he wasn't at all used to feeling this way. He didn't care about this sort of thing usually. He was far too old to feel all broken up over not staying the night with someone. But with you, he couldn't help but wonder...

A mixture of relief and sadness alike washed over him as he let out a small, soft laugh. He ought to have known that you wouldn't just dump him on the curb again. You were too kind. Too sweet.

Far too incredibly sweet for him.

Being with you would probably give him cavities.

He'd take that any day, though.

"I just..." he sighed, lowering his head back down against yours, nuzzling his nose over your own slightly, "I guess I just wouldn't blame you if you did. I've been pushing you away for months. And showing up like this, drunk and needy at three in the morning... I don't really deserve your kindness."

He pulled his arms around you tighter: "...I'm a bit of a mess."

"-Maybe you are," you admitted. He didn't really linger much on the thought that you were both basically standing here, embracing one another. He reasoned that since neither of you objected, that was all he needed to worry about at the moment. You slipped one of your hands from under his jacket and reached up to comb it through his hair a bit, brushing a few strands out of his eyes. "But I care about you. That means accepting you even when you are a bit of a mess."

Leon was instantly drawn in by your touch like an affectionate mutt, his eyes fluttering back closed. He couldn't remember the last time someone touched him with such earnest gentleness and care. His chest ached from your touch and comforting words, making him let out a trembling breath. For so long, he hadn't received any physical or emotional affection from anyone. The act of holding you alone was almost enough to make him fall apart right then and there. But he needed more, he needed to be closer. He gripped your waist, fingers digging into your skin slightly.

"-Don't stop," he whispered, his voice rough with want. He slid his hands down from your waist to the bottom of your tank top again, grasping the edge of it. "Now, please. I need you to touch me. Or I'm gonna go crazy."

His voice had a tone of extreme desperation to it, and you could both hear it clearly. His words were practically begging. It was a vulnerability that he rarely got to show, but somehow, the fact that you made him feel so exposed was only making him want you even more.

It wasn't like you were resisting much before this, but you fully gave in this time. Your gaze softened at the silent vulnerability he displayed, but you didn't address it directly. For that, he was grateful. The hand that was brushing through his hair moved down to instead hold his cheek in your palm.

"Okay. I'm here. Right here," you murmured. And with that, you leaned forward, your intention clear.

'I'm here. Right here.' Four little words, but the sheer meaning behind them made his heart slam against his ribs with painful urgency. With an almost burning longing, he closed the distance between you and kissed you again.

He pushed you against the counter once more, every inch of his body seeming to ache for yours. You kissed him back despite the tiny gasp of surprise that escaped your lips. Though you expected it, this kiss was not at all like the ones before it. It was open-mouthed, deep, and fervent. This third kiss was somewhat rough, possibly even messy, and his hands were everywhere on you: one sliding onto your hip, the other grasping at your waist, squeezing tight. One of his knees pushed between yours, and there was no mistaking the hardness that touched your thigh through his jeans.

You sucked in a breath through your nose, your thighs parting to accommodate him. But even that touch wasn't nearly enough. He wanted more. He groaned as his mouth slid against yours, deepening the kiss further. Your breath stuttered at the hot sensation of his tongue brushing yours for the first time, though you reciprocated the favor with no reservations on your part, quickly turning a heated kiss into a full-blown shameless makeout session.

You struggled to maintain your balance under his intensity, but his firm grasp on you ensured that you stayed steady on your feet. This new, even closer proximity was making his heart race. As soon as he broke the kiss with a wet, smacking sound, you gasped for air. There was a thin strand of saliva connecting your lips before it broke off, the sight making him shiver. That kiss was as obscene as it gets. Even though neither of you cared much. If at all.

There was nothing but pure, hot need running through Leon's body and mind at this point, and he could practically taste your own need for him in every shaky breath that came out of your mouth. You both wanted the same thing. The sound of your breath and the taste of you on his tongue were nearly overwhelming. It was not enough. Not even close to being enough.

He needed more.

All of you.

So, he slipped his hands under your tank top, grabbed at your sides, and quickly raised you up to the kitchen counter. You gasped lightly, the smooth surface cold under your thighs. Your heart raced upon the realization that he intended to remain in the kitchen. It seemed that this was happening right here. His hands quickly reached for yours, grasping your wrists and guiding you towards his chest again, physically urging you to touch him.

"Please," he breathed against your cheek, his lips tracing over your jawline up to your ear. Holding on to your wrist, he directed your hand down to his belt, his abdomen tensing lightly under his shirt as your palm glided over it."Touch me. Here."

He was definitely... upfront. In a way, you found that exhilarating. You turned your head lightly and pressed your lips to his cheek, your hands leniently moving to undo his belt without any more hesitation to your actions. As Leon enjoyed the small yet intimate gesture of your peck to his cheek, a shiver ran up his spine. His belt jingled softly, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet kitchen. You murmured to him: "...In the kitchen?"

He's always been a man of action, and your approval and encouragement of his haste simply added to his motivation to keep pushing.

"Right here," he grunted, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your shorts up as he stepped between your legs. The counter creaked softly beneath you as he creeped in closer, the heat of his body radiating against your skin, easing away the coldness under your thighs. "I need you too badly to wait any longer."

Your bodies were now squished together as he tugged you to the edge of the counter, sliding his hands up your shorts and palming at your ass shamelessly. The hard length pressing against you was unmistakable now, with only the fabric of his jeans and your thin shorts separating you two. He again sneaked his hands under your tank top and pushed it up, allowing it to bunch up over the skin on your stomach. His mouth attacked at your neck, hot and wet as he sucked and nipped at the warm skin. He moaned into you, the sound rumbling deep in his throat, his breathing labored. You exhaled shakily, the sensation of his mouth on your neck hot and overwhelming, and the sound of his voice only fueling the flames that were steadily blooming in the pit of your stomach.

"Please," he breathed again, the word a desperate plea as his hand guided yours lower. At this point, it was impossible to focus on anything but your touch, given how he was touching you in practically every way, not that you minded that fact.

"This is going to be messy, then..." you murmured, more to yourself than to him as you followed his guidance yet again, your fingers working on his jeans to pop open the button and pull down the zipper with no further delays, sliding them down over his hips just enough to free his hardened cock from its uncomfortable confines, your hand immediately wrapping around it to give it a couple of gentle strokes.

He let out a low, guttural groan as his hips twitched forward in response to your touch. Your fingers were almost too much for him to handle and he had to quickly let go of you and grab onto the countertop with both hands to keep himself stable on his feet. The heat between you was causing his heart to race wildly in his chest, and a visible sheen of sweat was already forming on his skin. The feeling was incredible, but resisting the urge to give in immediately was a challenge that he had to overcome, somehow.

It would be downright humiliating to come this damn quickly. Though, it was probably a bit ironic how that was something he was insecure about, out of all the embarrassing things he's done already. To be fair to him, he hasn't been touched by someone properly in almost a year. And his own hand just didn't compare one bit.

"Messy is good," he said, his voice still strained. "I want messy. Want you to make a mess of me."

A tiny smile tugged at the edges of your lips as you giggled lightly at that, in spite of yourself. However, his words still managed to surprise you. In a positive way. "...Yeah?"

His body leaned closer to yours, pushing you back against the counter. He kissed up your neck, your jaw, your mouth, his lips hungry and eager on yours. Despite their frenzied and messy nature, you tried your best to return his kisses as he pecked at your lips, your mouth chasing after his before he broke off. He slid his hands under your tank top more, finally lifting it up and off your body.

You had no problem with your tank top being thrown away somewhere on the floor. Since you were in your pajamas as it was, there was no bra underneath it to take off, leaving you completely bare from the waist up. You brushed over the back of his neck with your free hand as he continued to shower you with open-mouthed kisses that made your heart race. Leon groaned lowly into the crook of your neck, making you smile against his hair as you whispered: "...Want me to make you just stop thinking for a while?"

There wasn't even a lot of teasing on your part here. After all, it was pretty evident that he was feeling very stressed and tense. You genuinely wanted to help him with that, no games involved.

Your words caused him to hesitate, and a tremor spread across his body. Goddamn, you really just said that.

"Fuck yes. I need that more than anything right now," he breathed out shakily before planting another desperate kiss on your lips, his tongue swiping over yours shamelessly. He eagerly touched at your newly exposed skin as he outlined the lines of your figure with his hands. "I'm always thinking, always planning. It never stops."

He nipped at your lower lip lightly as he pulled back, his eyes dark and stormy as he returned your gaze.

"...For once, I just want to feel." He tugged anxiously at the waistband of your shorts. He wanted them gone, wanted nothing to separate your bodies. He needed to feel your naked skin against his own, to get as close to you as humanely possible. You didn't protest against it, swiftly hooking your legs over his hips and kissing him back, trying to match his energy as your mouths moved together, hot and fervent. Leon felt a pulling ache in his chest. His cock throbbed against your palm, pre-cum already dribbling from the head as he ground himself against your touch instinctively. "Please..."

While your hand left his cock to creep over his shoulders, the one that was on the back of his head moved down to rest on his jawline, cupping his face.

"This is... a tad claustrophobic," you muttered onto his lips with a small chuckle, feeling the kitchen counter dig into your body in a somewhat uncomfortable manner.

With his hands firmly grasping at your hips, Leon gave you another little kiss on the lips, laughing along sheepishly. He knew he should probably be a tad gentler, take more care with you, but God help him. He was just so insanely desperate for you. Indeed, it was somewhat cramped in here; you were correct, as you always were. But the way you were pressed against him, your legs wrapped snuggly around his hips, your breath hot on his lips, made him not particularly care about it. So, he just kissed you once more, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a hungry groan rumbling in his throat, his hands coming down to clutch at your thighs like a lifeline.

"-Don't care," he choked out between his kisses. "You feel too good for me to care."

He rolled his hips against you, his body practically aching with need, his breaths coming in small, shaky puffs as he continued to kiss you repeatedly.

You seemed to not mind at all as you generously kissed him back every time, your shared breaths and small groans mixing together into one muffled symphony. His hips moving against yours caused a delicious, hot jolt up his spine, the feeling only doubling once you pushed yourself back against him to the best of your ability, considering your position on the kitchen counter. With the remaining barrier of clothes putting things somewhat up to his imagination, there was something undeniably sensual in the sensation of grinding against you in this way. Though, he sure hoped this wouldn't be the case for a long time. The feeling of you moving against him was too enticing, and the warmth of your breath on his skin caused him to shudder helplessly.

Your hand that wasn't on his jaw moved up and down his back, gently pushing the leather jacket off his shoulder.

"You're a bit overdressed, no?" You murmured in-between yet another session of your kisses, gently tugging at his bottom lip between your teeth as you looked back at him through your lashes, meeting his gaze.

He let out a low chuckle at your little comment, his eyes dark with lust as he looked back at you. You still kissed at his lips as your body rubbed up against his, your hair a complete unkempt mess. It was a bit hard to focus on your words when you looked this damn ethereal to him. Still, you were right. You always were. Despite your partial state of undress, he remained fully clothed. Selfish as ever, he was.

"Suppose I am," he said with a small smirk, quickly shrugging off his jacket and letting it fall somewhere to the floor, discarded. He didn't hesitate to start on his shirt as well, shedding layers of clothing with little care for where they ended up. He wanted to feel your skin pressed against his own, no clothes between you and him. He wanted nothing but you, and he wanted you now.

With your eyes sweeping over him with appreciation, you swiftly reached forward and moved your hand down his chest to his middle. A few clearly recent cuts and bruises were visible here and there, a reminder of the disaster of a mission he mentioned earlier. If you weren't limited to your kitchen counter, you'd have kissed them for him, scars old and new. But alas, your hand would have to do.

Leon took a sharp breath and let it out through clenched teeth. Your touch was tender and sweet, and he felt his heart skipping a beat at the fact that you've obviously noticed his battered state. Your obvious affection and desire made him feel like the most beautiful man alive, even though he was well aware that he was a mess right now, with countless scars and marks littering his skin. If only for a moment, he could forget about them, though.

"You're very beautiful," you murmured. Although it may have sounded cliche, you couldn't think of anything else to say. Moreover, that didn't make your statement any less truthful.

Your palm moved slowly down his stomach, causing him to instinctively quiver and flex his abs slightly. He missed how you used to take care of him, how your gentle touch could soothe almost every ache and pain, both physical and mental, the way your lips would press against his skin...

Though, at this moment, all you could do was press your palm against his chest, considering your rather restrictive position, feeling his heartbeat thump steadily beneath your fingers.

"...So are you," he echoed back, his voice rough. He reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling it up towards his lips. He adorned your palm with quick little kisses, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on yours. You let him do as he pleased, your breath hitching a bit as his lips glided over your palm. The gesture seemed fairly reverent, and his heart stuttered in his chest once more. The fact that you were still here in front of him, letting him have this closeness again, still calling him beautiful... It made his heart ache. "God, I've missed you."

With your other hand, you gently brushed a few strands of hair away from his eyes, your fingertips barely grazing his cheek. Leon leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. He tucked his nose into the palm of your hand and kissed at the warm skin softly.

"I didn't know you could get this soft."

You made an honest comment; there was no hint of teasing there. He's always been one for physical affection, but this... this was something else. Something that was closer to the heart, something that was more in-depth than simple clinginess on his part. A feeling that caused his heart to race and his breath to catch in his throat.

"Don't get used to it. Besides," he said, even as he nuzzled against your hand, the stubble along his jaw scraping gently against your skin. He reached out to grasp your hips again, his grip firm. "I'm feeling pretty... hard at the moment."

He softly rolled his hips up against yours again to show you how much you've really affected him. You gasped lightly, looking up at him with a small, subtle chuckle. Leon grinned at your breathless laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you, letting out a little laugh of his own. Oh, how he loved the way you looked back at him, the sparkle of humor in your eyes, even as your cheeks flushed with darker hue. You dropped your hands and softly gripped his arms, partially for purchase and partially to hold onto him in some way. "...Can't argue with facts."

He bent down, seizing your lips in another fervent kiss, his tongue swiping over your upper lip with a soft breath. As your grip on his arms tightened, your nails dug into his skin, and he shivered from the sharp but pleasant sensation. He couldn't help but think of your nails digging into some other places. His body straining against yours, his longing for you only intensifying with every second passing, he dipped his head to press passionate, open-mouthed kisses against the column of your neck.

"Damn straight. You know," he muttered, his tongue tasting the salt on your skin. One hand stayed on your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles against your skin, while the other steadily started to wander. It gently splayed across your stomach after skimming up your side and following the contour of your ribcage. His fingers span over your skin, his touch light and almost ticklish, "-you're still wearing far too many clothes for my liking."

You shivered, releasing tiny, trembling breaths from your lips. It was quite overwhelming. Of course, in a positive sense. You tilted your head to the side, biting your lip. You softly placed one of your hands on his back, fingers tucked into the hairs on the back of his neck.

"Well, technically, you're still more overdressed than me. Jeans are thicker than pajama shorts, are they not?"

Leon looked up at you and let out a low laugh that rumbled through his chest. Your hair was all messed up from his hands, your cheeks were flushed, and your bare chest heaved with each little gasp and breath. Seeing you like this because of him felt too good to be true. His hand flexed on your hip as he nipped at the delicate skin of your neck with a low groan falling from his lips.

"Semantics," he mused, gently rolling his hips against yours once more, letting you feel the hard line of his bulge through his jeans. Or what remained of them as they hang on his hips loosely. "Besides they're easier to get off."

At that, you stopped and bit your lip. "...Fair enough."

"-Lift your hips."

Considering your confined space, you had to exert some effort to quickly raise your hips off the countertop, but most impressively, you did so with no questions asked. Leon wrapped one arm around your waist, supporting you, his other hand reaching for the waistband of your pajama shorts. The feel of your exposed skin against his fingertips made his heart to race. His touch was slightly shaky as he started to slide the fabric down over your thighs.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "-been dreaming of this for months."

Your breath caught softly as his confession made your insides buzz. The feeling of his arm hooking over your waist and holding you securely was both grounding and exhilarating. He could easily hold your entire weight up, and you knew you were perfectly fine and safe like this. Guess there were some upsides to his lifestyle.

"You should've come sooner then," you said quietly, your legs hooking around his hips again once the shorts were completely off. "I didn't lie when I said I would've been happy to see you."

After a brief pause, Leon pressed his forehead against yours and tightened his arm around your waist.

"I know," he whispered, "and I'm so fucking sorry I didn't. I didn't think... I didn't think you'd want to see me. Not after..."

"Hey," you coaxed him gently, your tone softening up significantly. He looked back up at you as you moved to cup his cheek again, your eyes so damn kind and warm as you met his gaze. Additionally, he swore that he felt his knees somewhat give way when you smiled at him. He would've stumbled if he wasn't holding you. "You're here now. Okay?"

He lowered his head, his mouth hot and wet on your neck as he left a couple more kisses there. He tasted the salt of your sweat as his tongue slid over the skin there.

"...I'm here now," he repeated after you, his voice almost a growl against your skin, his hands roaming over your now fully exposed thighs, kneading at the soft flesh. Sure would be nice to have his head crushed between these thighs of yours. "-So you're just going to have to put up with me for the night."

He sucked on one particular spot on your neck hard enough to leave a mark but not so hard as to cause you too much discomfort. You jolted slightly, a tiny noise leaving you as you felt the subtle sting. Byt judging by the way you pushed your hips back against him, gently placing one arm around his neck, you didn't mind him leaving a mark one bit. And the sensation of you rocking back against him like that made Leon groan as he inadvertently tightened his grip on your waist.

"Think I can manage that just fine," you mused back to him quietly.

The rough fabric of his jeans created a deliciously frustrating friction against your fully exposed cunt as he ground his hips into yours. He wanted to feel you against him, wanted to feel every inch of you pressed up against his body. He wanted to trace every curve and contour of yours with his hands and mouth until he knew you better than he did himself. Only, he wasn't sure he had the patience for it tonight.

"Oh I bet you can," he murmured against your neck, his voice low and heavy. His hand moved up your side, over the swell of one of your breasts, his thumb gently brushing over your nipple. The soft feel of it beneath his touch was so intense that he couldn't refrain from groaning aloud, just from that alone. He had a strong urge to take it in his mouth and suck on it until you were writhing under him, begging him for more than just that. But he wanted to worship every inch of you until you were fully satisfied, not rush through this for his own satisfaction alone.

Even if the urge was definitely there, and something told him that he wouldn't be able to perform up to his usual standards tonight.

You hummed in approval, your free hand gently tugging on his unbuttoned jeans and boxers as they slid downward.

"-This can't be comfortable," you noted.

Leon took a sharp breath in, his hips thrusting forward a little because of the sudden stimulation. He's been so focused on teasing you and touching you that he hadn't even considered his own discomfort. However, now that you've brought it up, he was painfully aware of the tightness in his jeans and the uncomfortable strain on his poor neglected member still partially stuffed away in his boxers. He's been so worked up and desperate for your touch that he's been ignoring his own needs.

"You're right," he murmured, his voice strained as he reached down to help you push his jeans and boxers over his hips. "Lemme... lemme just..."

In order to give himself the room to remove his jeans and boxers down his thighs properly, he separated himself from you for a little while. Once free from its confines, his cock sprung up, slapping against his stomach lightly and leaving a tiny smudge of pre-cum on his skin. He was already leaking so much it was downright embarrassing, but he couldn't stop staring at you and your reaction to him nonetheless. Your eyes showing nothing but pure hunger for him made his heart race, and his cock to throb alike. You looked at him with nothing but admiration, appreciating the beauty of his naked body, even though he was fairly close. You wanted to touch and caress him all over, making you wish for more room for you to move around. But, alas. The only way to do that was with your eyes alone.

So, you silently drew him closer for another languid kiss by the nape of his neck, striving for direct contact between your bodies, skin against skin. To get him going, you deftly wrapped your other hand around his cock and gave it a few gentle pumps, nothing getting in the way now. Given his painfully worked up state, you really had no need to do anything for him. But you wanted to regardless.

Leon groaned as his hips bucked forward from the kiss. He was so hard it hurt. The skin on his cock was hot and tight, and the sensation of your soft fingers wrapping around him alone almost made him see stars. He ground himself into your palm, practically fucking into your fist as he kissed you back, hard and desperate. To guide your strokes along his length, he slid his own hand down and wrapped his fingers around yours.

Fuck, that felt so good, his brain hazy with nothing but lust and pleasure now. He wanted to fuck into your hand forever, wanted to use your fist to bring himself to the edge again, and again, and again, until he was completely spent, and his brain was blissfully empty of any and all thoughts besides just you and your touch alone.

However, he was aware that he must slow down and proceed at a pace that would please you both, not just himself. So, he suddenly pulled away from you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His cock was flushed deep crimson, the veins along it pulsating gently with each heartbeat, his head slick and glistening, pre-cum running down the length of it.

"I need you," he rasped out, his hands roaming over your body fervently, grabbing, squeezing, kneading. "Can't wait anymore."

When he opened his eyes to gaze at you, a mixture of need and pleading filled the depths of his irises.

"Please."

You merely gave him a kind of dreamy smile, feeling a little dizzy from the kiss and the sensation of his bare skin against yours alike. Though, he figured that you'd become even closer soon enough. You moved your other hand from the base of his neck to the underside of his jaw, brushing his chin lightly with your thumb. "I think my answer to that's pretty obvious, no? I want you."

You planted another brief, delicate kiss onto his lips before drawing back. Leon's heart swelled with your words, and he grinned like a fool as he leaned into your touch. He relished in the way your fingers felt against his skin and the soothing warmth of your thumb as it stroked his chin so lovingly.

Without further ado, he moved and shifted against you, his hands sliding down your sides and gripping onto your hips tightly. He drew you in, allowing you to feel the full expanse of his body against yours. He was so hard and ready, leaking and twitching against your stomach, and he couldn't wait to finally be inside you. He's missed the way you looked at him and touched him, like you were really seeing him. He's missed it so much.

He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead as he leaned in.

"Hang on," he instructed. Carefully, he shifted his grip on you, grabbing you by the back of your thighs to help you hold onto him properly as he straightened up and easily lifted you off of the counter. He moved a few careful steps back, away from the counter, and then lowered himself onto the kitchen chair that was closest to him, which he'd conveniently been sitting on prior.

He settled you onto his lap, your legs parted around his hips, his arms wrapped around your middle. This time, it was you who was on top of him, your bodies still pressed tightly together, his body-warmth filling you. You chuckled softly, looking down at him with mild amusement swimming in your eyes, your arms wrapped around his neck.

"...Why am I not surprised that I'm on top?"

Leon's eyes lit up with mischief and desire as he grinned at you. He loved how you looked straddling him, your hair framing your features just enough to cast a lovely shadow over your face, cheeks still flushed and lips swollen from his kisses. He moved his hands down to grab your hips, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles over your hipbones.

"You got a problem with that?" He mused, his tone almost coy as he looked up at you, a small, cocky smirk playing on his lips. Despite his teasing tone, his touch was anything but. His hands still wandered over your figure, nearly reverently following the lines and contours of your body. His eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and heavy-lidded, filled with a need that was more profound and primal than just physical.

You smiled and leaned in to get more comfortable.

"Zero," you stated bluntly. Without any further dancing around, you shifted up to gently guide yourself to sink onto him slowly. Your hot cunt surrounded his aching cock, making Leon's breath catch sharply in his throat. As you slowly but surely sank onto him fully, his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, a low, guttural groan escaping from his lips. A small 'mm...' sound left your own parted lips as you felt him stretching you out, not painful or uncomfortable, but a tad tense. Still, you knew that it was only temporary. Your focus was immediately taken away from the minor ache of the light stretch by those dazed blue eyes staring back at you.

Fuck, you felt absolutely fantastic, like velvet and silk and everything he has ever desired. He had to resist the urge to start thrusting up into you immediately, to fuck into you hard and fast until you were both trembling and exhausted. But rather, he forced himself to stay motionless so you could get used to him being inside of you. He knew that he didn't exactly get to prepare you properly - damn his drunken horny impatience - that you were tight and possibly a bit sore, and he didn't want to hurt you on accident. He wanted to make this a damn good experience for you, and he wanted you to feel as amazing as you made him feel. Even though that was a high bar for him to aim for.

His fingers stretched along the bend of your shoulder blades as his hands moved over your back. He drew you in closer, until your chest was pressing against his own, allowing him to feel the soft swells of your breasts cushioning his chest. His lips rested in the hollow of your throat as he leaned in to pepper kisses along the side of your neck softly. He took a few moments to just breathe, to try and compose himself enough to speak, but he was so damn aroused that he was finding it hard to even think straight, much less form coherent sentences.

"...Don't move yet," he managed to breathe out, his voice rough with need. "I'm... gonna come too fast if you do. Just- give me a minute, ok?"

Despite the fact that the sound was not at all mocking in nature, you couldn't help but laugh out loud. You combed one hand through the hairs on the back of his neck, running your fingers through the strands gently. "Seriously? I just put it in."

You weren't making fun of him. Honestly, you found it rather sweet. Regardless, Leon chuckled nervously, his face flushed and his breathing labored as he looked back at you with an embarrassed smile.

"I know, I know. It's just... been a while," he admitted, his hands squeezing at your hips gently as he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He leaned towards you with his forehead resting lightly against your shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut as he concentrated on the sensation of your warmth surrounding him, the way your inner walls were fluttering and clenching around his length, a blissful promise of what's to come. His touch was gentle and reverent, reaching up to cup your cheek despite your current state. "Just... let me look at you for a moment."

His eyes moved over your face, ravenous but tender, as if he was trying to commit this moment to memory. You smiled and put your hand on top of his, turning your head slightly to press a small kiss to his wrist.

"Hey, there's no rush. And... just for the record, I wouldn't care if you came too fast," you reassured him. Although you teased a bit, you didn't want him to feel genuinely embarrassed over disappointing you or anything. You really just wanted him to feel good tonight, even if that meant you might not get that intense finish at the end of this.

Leon's tensed up muscles relaxed slightly, a subtle, genuine smile blooming on his lips. He leaned in to kiss your cheek, his breath warm against your skin.

"...Thanks," he murmured, meaning it with every fiber of his being. "That means a lot."

He inhaled deeply, feeling a little more in control now. Still, he took a few more additional moments to simply feel the heat and tightness of your cunt before speaking again.

"You can move now."

For a moment, you just held his gaze, as if you were trying to figure out just how sincere he really was: "You sure? I told you, I really am okay with waiting. There's no rush."

You were too kind, God...

He nodded, his touch tender as he ran his hands over your thighs.

"Yeah, I'm sure, don't worry. Slow at first," he grunted, his eyes meeting yours. "Just... move slow at first."

"-You got it," you said, returning his gaze with a small smile. You weren't about to go against him. So, in order to get things started, you placed your arms over his shoulders and gave a slight little roll of your hips. You exhaled shakily at the action, your eyes fluttering shut. After all, it's been pretty long for you, too.

Fuck, the feeling of you moving on top of him, your warm cunt enveloping him so perfectly, was almost too much to take. He had to swallow back a gasp, his own eyelids fluttering closed as he concentrated on the sensation of your body against his own, your shape fitting so wonderfully against his own.

"Yeah, like this," he managed to grit out, his voice strained with pleasure as he guided your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. He was taking his time, being gentle and careful with you, making sure you were both enjoying every moment of this unplanned reunion.

His hands moved up your back, his fingers splaying across your shoulder blades. He pulled you in closer, until your chest was pressed flush against his own again, until he could feel the softness of your breasts cushioning his muscles. His lips lingering on the silky, smooth skin, he lowered his head to kiss the top of your left breast reverently, just above your heartbeat. You chuckled at that softly, the delicious drag of him moving inside you making your breath hitch in your throat, the fire within the pit of your stomach strong and ravenous.

"-Yeah?" You breathed out, your hands skimming over his own shoulders briefly as you moved on top of him, caressing him. "We're doing this slow and steady?"

If so, it wouldn't bother you. To be honest, you were just fine with that. Leon's eyes were dark and fierce when he stared up at you. He gently brushed his thumb over your cheekbone, reaching up to cup your cheek again.

"For now," he muttered, his gaze fixed on you again. "I just want to feel you. All of you. Slowly."

You smiled shakily and leaned into his hand: "...Then slowly it is."

He was now firmly grasping your hips, his fingers pressing into your flesh. He swallowed.

"But I won't be able to hold back for that long." He raised one hand from your hip and glided it up your side, his fingers lingering on your waist, ribs, chest. He cupped one breast, gently squeezing at the soft flesh for a moment, before his touch continued upwards, moving up your neck to cup your face next. His gaze was deep and passionate as he caressed your lower lip with his thumb. "...You're so damn beautiful."

Your lashes fluttered just before you opened your eyes back up to stare down at him, your breath hitching at his touch. You found it hard to maintain the requested slow pace for a moment there, your hips stuttering, but you resumed your languid rolls after the brief hang-up. You wouldn't speed up without his go-ahead. Instead, you settled yourself by nuzzling into his hand, throwing all caution to the wind. To hell with it, you weren't ashamed to show that you very much adored him. You parted your lips for him, letting his thumb press further into your bottom lip as you maintained eye contact with him.

"...That's something we can both agree on," you breathed out. "You have no idea how beautiful you look right now, either."

His hands slid into your hair at the back of your head as he leaned up closer to you and pulled you in. He gently gripped at the strands as he leaned in until his forehead rested against yours, your shaky breaths mingling together.

"I think I have some idea," he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a yearning he could hardly express in words alone. "Seeing you like this, feeling you like this... it's... everything I've been dreaming about for months now. Seriously."

He was glued to you. His hand on your face was trembling slightly as he ran his thumb over your lip again, his touch reverent. With his other hand snaking around to grasp the back of your neck, he leaned in and planted another sloppy, wet kiss on your lips. He pulled you in closer, his body shaking slightly as he tried to resist just grasping at your hips and thrusting up into you like some animal in heat. He broke the kiss briefly to speak, sounding raspy and breathless.

"...Faster."

This was not a request; this was a command.

"Yes." You nodded, speechless and breathless yourself, both from the kiss and the continual sensation of him going in and out of you. Once his hands slid back to your hips, they felt steady, and you were grateful for that feeling. Knowing you, you would exhaust yourself quickly. But for now, you would give him your best. So, that was what you did.

As you slowly but surely increased the speed of your motions, thrusting down on him with increasing weight, you chased after his lips once more, kissing him. The sound of skin slapping against skin now contributed to the symphony of this moment. The intensified sensations prompted you to moan into him, tightening your grip on his shoulders during the kiss. You were just as reminded that it's been pretty damn long since you felt pure physical pleasure from fucking someone like this.

You might have needed some stess-relief as much as he did.

With each roll and grind, Leon groaned as he felt your heat enveloping him, taking him deeper. He tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, creating small half-moon indentations on your skin, but he knew you wouldn't object to it. He could tell you wanted it just as much as he did.

He broke off the kiss once more, his breath coming in ragged pants as his lips moved back down to your neck, his hands roaming around your body. Kissing and and biting at the delicate skin there, his teeth skimming over you as he fought to hold back just a little bit longer, his body quivering with effort, your name leaving his lips in a ragged groan: "Fuck..."

You tossed your head back, partly in a conscious effort to give him more space to work with, and partly in a natural reaction to the ever-growing pleasure blooming within the pit of your abdomen that now filled all your senses as you gasped breathlessly with each thrust. You kept up your pace without stuttering, even as the fire between your legs became unbearable in the best of ways, spreading upwards like liquid fire in your veins. One of your hands cradled the back of his head, your fingers buried in his hair, your nails scraping sharply against his scalp. He didn't seem to mind it at all. If anything, the whine that got muffled into your neck as you tugged at his hair a tad more harshly was an encouragement, not a protest.

"L-Leon..."

He was only pushed to begin thrusting up and meeting your movements when you gasped out his name like that, slamming his hips up against yours. He left a constellation of messy, open-mouthed kisses on your skin, his hands roaming all over your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire on you. He was quickly losing control, his breath coming in laborious pants, his body shivering.

"S-Shit, I'm not gonna be able to hold out for long like that," he muttered hurriedly, his voice strained. He reached up with a single hand, his fingers entwining in your hair and pulling your head back, forcing your to gaze to meet his own. You emitted a faint mewl as his hips drove up into you, only intensifying the feelings coursing up your spine, while the tug on your hair drew your eyes to meet his own. His blue eyes resembled a storm, dark and deep, with a hunger that extended beyond just physical need. "I want you to come for me. Can you do that?"

That was a genuine question on his part, and a warranted one, considering he didn't get to please you properly before things went from second base straight to home run with nothing in-between. Still, with how pent up you were, you honestly didn't have much trouble with it.

It was tough to remember to breathe with the hungry stare he was giving you. It was also tough to make yourself speak. Both from the constant physical reminder of him moving inside you that stole all words that did manage to form and transformed them into a series of gasps and moans on your part, as well as the pleasant fog that filled your head like cotton. While his request would probably embarrass you in other circumstances, right now, you didn't have the capacity or the desire to care.

So, you merely gave him a shaky nod, slinking one hand down your body to rub tight, quick circles on your clit in tune with his thrusts. Shuddering, it didn't at all take long for you to arch your back against him, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. Your muscles spasmed as a sharp wave of pleasure crashed over you, making your vision flash white for just a split second.

Maybe there is some good in not getting any action in a while.

The sight, the sound, the sheer sensation of you clamping up on him as you reached your orgasm, were downright heavenly. Leon tried to stifle his own whine by biting down on his lip, his hands clenching on your hair and hip. As his eyesight blurred at the edges, the waves of bliss almost overwhelmed him. He's been anticipating this for so long, and now that it was here, all around him, he felt as if he was drowning in all these sensations, as if he was drowning in you.

"Oh god-" he gasped out, your name escaping him in a breathless mantra, his voice raising itself higher until it broke off into a muffled whine as he spilled himself into you, warm and throbbing. Slowly and gently, he loosened his grip on your hair, his touch softening as he ran his fingers through the messy strands, evening them out a bit. His heart was thumping in his chest, he was panting, his breaths deep and shaky.

He tucked his face into the crook of your neck and gently kissed at the skin. The lightness of his touch and lips against you was a stark contrast to the fire that burned in him just mere moments earlier. Your thighs were shaking slightly from the aftershocks of it all, your body slumped over his as you breathed heavily, panting. As you two sat, gathering your bearings, your head moved to rest on his shoulder, your arms wrapping around his middle as the noise of your shared breaths filled the silence of your kitchen. You gradually grew aware of his presence as reality settled back in, bit by bit. You hummed lightly, raising your own hand to run your fingers through his hair, even though your hands were a bit shaky.

Leon closed his eyes as he leaned into your touch. As he wrapped his arms fully around you, holding you close, he was still struggling to catch his breath, his heart pounding. He nuzzled against your neck, inhaling your scent and holding your body close against his own. The previously heated and fervent atmosphere was now peaceful, almost normal, and for a moment, he could just relax and enjoy the present, the past and future be damned.

Though, a few seconds later, he raised his head and gave you a soft, gentle kiss on the lips. His touch was soft and reverent as he poured all his remaining emotions into that kiss without speaking. Once Leon interrupted the kiss, he drew back to look at you. His eyes were still stormy, but there was also a softness there, a vulnerability that wasn't present there before.

"...I don't want to overstep," he said quietly, some hesitance to his words. "But... can I stay?"

He ran his hand over your back in a soft manner. While he was asking for more than just a few more hours together, he was willing to settle for just being close to you at the moment. You drew back, unable to contain your breathless laugh as you glanced down at him in pure disbelief.

You looked uncertain whether to be amused or slightly insulted. Was he seriously asking you this right now?

"We just had sex in my kitchen. I think I am fine with you staying the night, Leon."

Leon laughed quietly, showing a faint flush on his cheeks. He knew he must look like a sight right now, still panting and covered in a sheen of sweat, his hair disheveled, and his eyes hazy with fading remnants of lust. Still, he found a feeling of contentment and pride that he hadn't felt in a long time as he watched you, looking all satiated and just as flushed as a result of his actions. Even if this was far from his best performance. He told himself that he'd make sure to make it up to you later and treat you like the queen you are.

"Sorry," he murmured, his voice still rough but a bit lighter now. "I just... I don't want to assume anything. Didn't want to push my luck. But... yeah. I'd be really happy if I could stay. As long as you'll have me."

His gaze was still fixed on your face as he ran his hands through your hair again. He leaned up, leaving another brief but nonetheless tender kiss on your lips. One that you returned wholeheartedly.

Of course, he realized you still had a lot of stuff to figure out, but for now, he was simply glad to be here with you and have this second opportunity to make it right.

Still, he saw your brows raise in silent surprise as you withdrew from him slightly. He didn't have to be specific to convey the essence of that last sentence to you. 'As long as you'll have me'. It was a hidden promise, there for you to latch on to if you wanted to, or discard it away with no judgement on his part. And you wouldn't have expected something like this from him.

In any case, you already knew your answer: "You can stay for as long as you'd like."

Leon felt a sudden surge of emotion blooming in his chest, making his breath to catch in his throat again, but for a completely different reason this time around. The magnitude of what you just said was beyond him, he found it hard to believe it. He could tell right away that you truly meant it by the simple earnestness and warmth to your eyes. He leaned in, mesmerized by the sight of you, the warmth of your breath mingling with his own.

"For as long as I'd like," he repeated, a soft, disbelieving whisper. He brought you closer, tightly wrapping his arms around your middle and lightly nuzzling against your temple. "...That could really be forever, you know."

You gently humed against him, your hands slowly moving up and down his back in soothing caresses.

"Is that bad?"

He chuckled.

"I'm just not sure I'm ever going to want to leave." His lips lingered on your shoulder for a moment, giving you another gentle kiss, before he spoke again: "It's just... this feels like... home. Being with you, holding you, touching you. I don't... I don't want to lose that feeling again. Even if it makes me sound like some sappy loser."

The simple vulnerability of his words made your heart ache, and the want to just hold him suddenly overwhelmed you. Then again, there was no obstacle holding you back from doing exactly that. Thus, you don't hold back. Your hands slid around his own middle and up his back as you simply held him close with a small sigh of your own. It was a little nasty and sticky, what with you both sweaty and still unseparated, with him remaining inside you since neither of you had moved yet. But you didn't mind the messiness all that much. As far as you were concerned, you would rather have his sweat and odor than blood and grime.

"You don't have to," you murmured simply, looking ahead as your head rested on his shoulder snuggly. "I told you. I don't mind you being here. I like you being here."

Leon trembled. This, being held like this, feeling so safe and wanted by someone, was something he was not at all used to. But with you, it felt so natural, it was almost scary. His arms wrapped around you like a vice, pulling you in impossibly close. He was still struggling to wrap his head around the idea that he could just... stay. That you wanted him to stay. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, his grip on you intensifying as his hands firmly clasped at your back.

"...You better mean that," he choked out shakily, "-because I'm not going anywhere. Not this time."

He felt strangely... complete. He felt like all the parts of himself that he thought he had long lost were finally coming back together. He didn't realize he was missing that feeling until now, when it was back again.

As your own hand gracefully glided up his back, he felt your fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck softly. Leon shivered slightly, letting out a soft, content sigh of his own. The feeling of being so intimately close to you, in more ways than one, was downright heavenly. Despite his awareness that this feeling would fade away once you inevitably pull back from him. But that was fine.

"I wouldn't lie to you about something like this," you said simply. "Would be a bit cruel of me, don't you think?"

"-You're many things," he sighed. "But cruel is definitely not one of them."

You grinned at him, tilting your head slightly as you pulled back. He could recognize that subtle playful glint in your eyes, the one he knew well by now: "Yeah? What am I then?"

He bestowed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment more than necessarily. "You're kind... and thoughtful, and smart. And way too good for me."

He sighed softly, feeling your hand still continuing to play with his hair; the sensation of your fingers dancing along the wisps of hair at his nape sent nice little thrills down his spine. His eyes fluttered closed again, his head resting against your shoulder, and his body relaxing as he takes simple pleasure in this peaceful moment. He was utterly worn out. Not simply because of the drinking and the sex, but because of the weight he's been carrying for a long time now finally being lifted off his weary shoulders, albeit only partially. But that was sufficient enough for him. Now that he was in your arms, it felt like he could finally put away some of it behind him, even if just for a short, precious moment in time.

For a while, you just held each other in silence. It was... nice. Even though he understood that it wouldn't continue on forever. Eventually, as you started to feel your eyelids grow heavy, you pushed yourself up a bit, pulling back from him again. In a situation like this, this was hardly the ideal spot for you two to fall asleep. You smiled at him faintly, your hands resting on his shoulders.

"...Think we better clean up and head to bed, eh?"

Leon leaned back and blinked up at you slowly, emerging from the shroud of sleepy blissfulness of his own. His eyes were still heavy-lidded and hazy, but he smiled softly at you from the corners of his mouth.

"Probably a good idea, yeah," he agreed, his voice a low, gravelly murmur. "Not that I don't love having you on top like this... but yeah. Probably not the most comfy place for a night of sleep."

He knew you were right, yet he was still hesitant to let go. He took another moment to just look at you one more time, taking in the sight of you in all your tired, disheveled, but still-gorgeous glory, before he reluctantly released his grip on you. You nodded thanks and climbed off of him slowly, hissing slightly as you felt his now soft cock slide out of you with an unceremonious squishy noise. Leon's cheeks flushed a bit at the sound, a mixture of pride and a bit of chagrin running through him. He really did that to you, huh. He was now more than aware of a sticky mess between your thighs as the initial afterglow has faded.

A part of him found it pretty amusing that you just rode him on your kitchen chair, of all places. In the moment, it was not easy to think rationally, though.

Giving him another somewhat awkward but genuine smile, you extended your hand to assist him in standing up. He was still drunk, after all. "C'mon, let's get cleaned up."

He took your hand and let you pull him up. With a bit more effort than necessary, he stood up after you, wobbling on his feet for a moment since everything was still so intense that his legs were shaking. The remaining alcohol in his system didn't help with that, either. Though, this time, he chose to laugh it off instead.

"You... might've tired me out a bit." With a trace of mischief to his eyes, he laughed gently as he surveyed the sticky mess between your legs. "...And I made a bit of a mess, didn't I? Think you might... let me help you clean up?"

He took a step closer and lightly touched your inner thigh, his fingers sliding up, up, up until he gathered some of the still warm stickiness on the pads of his fingers. Your eyes slightly widened upon touch, your breath hitching in clear surprise. But somehow, you had a good hunch about where this was going exactly.

"Oh my God, Leon, don't-" He pulled his fingers up to his mouth and licked them clean before you could even finish, tasting the salty flavor of you two mixed together. God, he wouldn't mind cleaning you up in other ways. Preferably involving his mouth between your legs. But he was pulled from his horny fantasies with a disbelieving groan coming from you, quickly followed by a laugh, and as he looked back at you, he saw you slapping a hand over your eyes. "Nooo, Jesus, you're so gross!"

It was obvious that your exclamation was devoid of any genuine revulsion on your part. If anything, that stupid grin pulling on your lips told him more than any words ever could. Leon's own amusement was just as obvious as he smirked at your horrified laughter. Taking his fingers out of his mouth with a pretty shameless pop, he held them up and gave you a mean grin of his own.

"Hey, don't knock it 'till you try it," he teased, his voice now low and flirtatious. "Besides, I couldn't let all that go to waste... I put it there. It's only fair I clean it up, don't you think?"

His face was split in a roguish smile, not the slightest trace of any shame or embarrassment in his expression as he looked back at you. If anything, he seemed delighted by your flustered reaction, relishing the chance to tease you and see you all sputtering and speechless. You just lightly slapped at his shoulder once you were done laughing, knowing full well your face was undoubtedly flushed now, what with how hot your cheeks felt.

Regardless of how insufferable he was, it was nice to see him laughing and joking again. You'd take his raunchy humor over those sad, hollow eyes you had to see before any day.

"...Dork," you simply said, shooting him a smile that nullified any thought of actual annoyance on your part. "Come on, let's go shower already."

Leon's smile only grew at your playful swat. In fact, he seemed emboldened by it, his hand reaching out to catch yours and bring it to his lips. He gave you a lingering kiss on your knuckles, his gaze fixed on you.

"Dork, huh?" He repeated, pretending to be offended. "Why, you little-"

With no further warning, he lifted you off the floor, throwing you over his shoulder with baffling ease as he chuckled under his breath at your yelp of surprise, his hold on you both secure and gentle.

"Leon, the hell are you-"

"-Oh, no, you're not getting away that easily, missy. You think you can just call me a dork and get away with it? Nope."

You just laughed along as you held onto him. The whole situation was rather ridiculous, all things considered, but you found the light, playful atmosphere to be pleasant, especially considering how it's been quite a while since you saw this silly side of him: "What happened to 'you might've tired me out a bit'!?"

Leon snickered as he adjusted his grasp on your back, holding you steady. He gently squeezed the curve of your hip as he smirked back at you over his shoulder.

"I might be tired, but I've still got enough energy to handle you." Before long, the short walk to your bathroom was complete and he set you down in your shower, busying himself with making sure the water was just right. You let him do as he pleased, not minding getting pampered for a bit. "And besides, you calling me a dork is unacceptable. I have a reputation to maintain, you know."

"Sure you do."

He looked over your bare physique appreciatively, smiling to himself as he watched you step beneath the water's spray on your own. He admired the way the water flowed down your skin, tracing its path through the lines and planes of your body as it trickled downwards, leaving tiny translucent paths along your skin. Leon took a minute to simply look at you before finally entering the shower himself, his body close to yours in the cramped space. Not that either of you minded that fact.

"...Gotta admit, this is a nice view."

You just shook your head slightly and laughed. He was being quite cheesy with you now. You didn't mind. It was nice to see him be his usual corny self. You simply reached over for the body wash and promtly started soaping him up from the shoulders down after squeezing some into your palm.

"Well, I hope it's a nice compensation for smelling like cherries. Not the most manly scent there is, I'm afraid."

Leon clearly more than enjoyed the feel of your hands gliding along his skin as he tilted his head back against the wall, chuckling softly under his breath.

"Hey, I think I could get used to smelling like cherries if it means I can be around you every day." Your hands slid across his shoulders and down his chest, forcing him to fully lean back against the shower wall and briefly close his eyes in quiet bliss. "-And trust me, I've had worse smells on me. Way worse."

You gave him a knowing smile and snort out a little laugh of your own at that. You supposed cherries were the lesser of the two evils between them and smelling like a rotting pile of garbage. However macabre that was.

The atmosphere between you now felt warm and almost... domestic, in a way. He tried not to dwell on that thought too long, though. But you placing a quick little kiss to his shoulder made it ten times harder. "You could say that again."

Without much thought, he seized the bottle of body wash from you, squeezing a substantial amount into his own palm, and then setting it down again.

"My turn," he murmured, his hands immediately moving to your body, almost impatiently. You didn't protest, simply turning around to let him wash up your back. He was gentle, his touch light and reverent as he traced the outlines and planes of your body with a familiar touch. He moved slowly, making sure to cover all of you with fragrant soap. Or, well... He really just wanted an excuse to touch you some more.

As you relaxed against him, you momentarily closed your eyes and hummed in quiet contentment. Being cared for and caring for someone in such a way was... nice. Really nice. Even your touch aside, he realized how much he missed just being with you like this, sharing a quiet moment of domesticity he didn't know he needed. After rinsing the body wash off of you, Leon held his hands on your hips for just another extra silent moment. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered to you softly, drawing you in closer: "...I really did miss this, you know. I missed you. So damn much."

Your head rested back against his shoulder: "I missed you too."

He wrapped his arms fully around your waist to draw you even closer to him, grinning to himself like a total fool. This was the first time you actually said it back to him properly, ever since he first blurted out his feelings to you over the phone. Unable to contain his inner glee, he gave you a couple of gentle kisses down your jawline. He held onto you like this for a small while, simply savoring the sensation of your bare body against his own, the gentle warmth of the water cascading over you both. He paused, his gaze moving over your face silently, seeing the faint, comfortable smile blooming on your lips and the way your eyes were fluttered closed in quiet bliss. Quite a sight, he must say.

"...I know we can't go back to the way things were," he said softly, his thumbs rubbing slow circles against your hips. "But right now... right now, this is perfect. Just us. Just... together."

You offered him a faint chuckle and a sweep of some damp hair away from his eyes as you turned to face him, your hands resting on his chest.

"Well... I'm glad I made you feel better. In whatever way it was."

His eyes closed as he leaned into your touch.

"-You always make me feel better," he murmured, his voice so unbelievably soft. He took one of your hands in his, lifting it up to his face, and pressing a gentle kiss to your palm. "I'm going to sound corny as hell, but you're like... a breath of fresh air to me, you know? In this crazy, fucked-up world, you're the one thing that somehow still makes sense to me. The one thing that I can still count on."

The heat of the water and his body's warmth surrounded you as he shuffled a little closer, his body brushing against yours. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you right back into his tight embrace, nuzzling into the crook of your neck again.

"...I don't ever want to lose this feeling again. I don't ever want to lose you."

You moved to wrap your arms around him in turn, holding him close and secure.

"You won't."

This was the type of warm comfort he didn't know he craved. Not until you gave it to him without asking for anything in return. And it was the most precious gift he could've hoped for.

[lqveharrington]

Everything & Nothing | D.M.

summary: The Universe might hate you and Draco with how many times you’ve run into each other in a span of your mutual breakup.

pairing: ex!draco malfoy x ex!fem!reader

includes: angst, slight fluff

a/n: uhhh, i don’t know why i wrote this but enjoy!

Fate seemed to have a cruel sense of humor; bringing you both into each other’s lives whenever possible. Whether it was a random run-in at an obscure café or an unexpected encounter during a night out with your quite separate group of friends, you kept finding yourselves crossing paths in the most unlikely places which was weird because you both were studying under the same wizarding university, you never ran into one another there.

Each accidental meeting sparked whirlwinds of emotions between the both of you — anger, hurt, nostalgia, and a flicker of something you both thought you had lost long ago.

Harry and Ron didn’t care, in fact, they were delighted you and Draco Malfoy broke it off when you graduated Hogwarts. Hermione couldn’t care less about the boy, but she knew you two were completely and irrevocably in love.

“So, how did last night go with… Remind me, what was the name of that prick?” Ron tapped his chin as you stared at him with the thought of casting a horrifying spell on him.

Hermione hesitated, reached a hand out to stop him before you could pull your wand out. “Ron—“

“Was it not Malfoy? I swear he looked exactly—“

You flicked your wand at him, murmuring only one word that wouldn’t cause him too much pain. “Rictumsempra.”

Ron burst out laughing, causing the muggles walking around you to stare at him incredulously. Harry laughed at him as you wore a proud look on your face, making Hermione sigh and reverse the spell. Well, after a few more seconds of torturous tickling.

“If this is how you all will behave this evening, I will send you all home, do you understand?” Hermione directed her attention to the three standing in front of her, most of her irritation directed toward her other half.

She received half-hearted words of understanding before her face completely softened to look over at you, watching your eyes become distant again. She sighed and separated you from the boys, pulling you in for a hug.

“Have you talked to him recently?” Hermione rubbed your arms softly, words quiet as you sniffled. “What’s wrong?” She was about to ask again, believing you didn’t hear her when you responded with a voice barely above a whisper.

“Is it bad that I miss him?” You wipe a stray tear quickly, wishing nothing but to cover up your embarrassment. “Merlin’s beard, I’m crying in a bookstore about a mutual break up.”

Hermione continued to soothe you as muggles continued to look at them with confusion. This happened at least once a month. You would try and move on from him, but it all came rushing back to you like it was just yesterday.

You sigh and rub your eyes with the heel of your palm, “Give me a second.”

“Take all the time you need, we just you got here so you’ll… be fine.” Hermione locked eyes with someone behind you, her eyes lighting up in surprise. “I’ll be back, I need to make sure Ron and Harry haven’t spend all their money on candies.”

You chuckle and wave her off before shifting your gaze to the bookshelves surrounding you. Did you need a new book? No. Do you want to get a new book even thought you have piles of them in your flat? Yes.

As you scanned the different books adorning the shelves, you found one that caught your eye, one that you’ve been wanting for months. Everywhere else was sold out, but apparently not this random bookstore Hermione brought you to.

Standing on your tippy toes, your fingers barely grazed the cloth material the book was bonded by. Just as you were about to clasp your hand around it, a figure behind you plucked it from the shelf, making you turn to glare at the person.

“Hey, I was—“ You cut yourself off as you faced the familiar man. Even after all these months, he still had the same face you fell in love with years ago, but of course he was maturing with his looks. You mumble out his name, making it sound more like a question than an observation. “Draco.”

He tensed at his name falling from your lips, blue eyes meeting yours. Every time he ran into you, neither of you would acknowledge the other, but this was completely different. He stared at you, hoping and praying that this wasn’t a dream. As he realized his face was in fact getting hotter by the second, he knew this wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

“Hi.” Draco breathed out, his resolve bending to your every will. He watched as you directed your attention to his hands, your hands spinning a ring he thought you threw out long ago. He blinked before clearing his throat and handing you the book, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, I was trying to be helpful.”

“It’s fine.” You mutter quietly, your fingers brushing against his, sending sparks down your body.

The room felt hot and heavy and you didn’t know what to do but stand there and bask in the awkwardness that came upon the both of you. You felt for the pages in the book before Draco pressed closer to you, apologies spilling out of his mouth the closer he got as an old woman struggled to get past behind him.

As she finally slipped through, Draco immediately removed himself from you; and from habit, tucked a loose piece of your hair behind your ear before realizing his mistake.

“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to—“

You stop his rambling before he could go on for any longer, “It’s alright, Draco. No… No harm done at all.” You clasped your hand around the book, nails anxiously tapping against its hard cover. “Uh… It was nice to see you…”

Draco watched as you turned to leave before reached out for your shoulder, making you turn back to face him with a surprised look.

“Wait.”

You looked at the hand on your shoulder and followed his arm up to his face, feeling your own face heat up as his turned equally as red. He quickly removed his hand and tucked them into his pockets — you knew that meant he was nervous. And so were you.

“Can we talk?” He asked softly, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet. You watch him with slight amusement before nodding, lips curling up to an even bigger smile when you noticed his eyes light up at your agreement. You allowed him to lead the way before looking down at the book.

As you watch him head for the door, you stop him briefly. “Give me a second, I have to pay for the book still.” Before you could even hear how much your total was from the bored cashier, Draco shoved his muggle money to the cashier in hopes to make the process faster.

You rolled your eyes with a small smile on your face, taking the paper bag from the counter and making your way to the front of the bookstore to wait for him. You shut your eyes briefly as the small snippets of conversations floated around the store, the random tales of their lives making small movies in your mind until a hand softly squeezed your shoulder.

“Mm, you done?” You murmur, eyes fluttering up to see a content Draco. Tilting your head over to the cashier, you saw her making goo-goo eyes toward him, specifically a place no one decent should be looking at in public. “You don’t mind if we could talk down by the cafe, yeah?”

“Lead the way.” He gestured the front of the door with his chin, eyes watching your calm facade turn into such a fast filled emotion of annoyance and jealousy.

Instead of the bookstore with an over-eager cashier who was ready to get into Draco’s pants, you lead him to a quiet cafe with no one but two old men playing chess at a round table. The smell of freshly baked pastries filled your senses, making you hum in content and sit at your own round table, Draco sitting right across from you.

After a few silent moments, you sighed and stopped spinning your ring, looking up at the blonde in front of you.

“What did you want to talk about?”

Draco gave you a tight-lipped smile, fingers wringing with each other. “Honestly? Everything. I want to talk about our lives — more specifically yours — and how you’ve been.”

You blinked at him. You didn’t know he was still interested in your life, but you did want to know if he ever…

“We don’t have to, but I would like that very much.” He spoke quietly when he caught your dazed look.

Nodding, you begin spinning your ring again. “What do you want to know?”

He smiled softly and began the mirage of questions, each one you happily answered. It was like no time had passed since Hogwarts. It was like nothing ever happened.

Like always, Draco watched you animatedly talk about a new book series you started, your hands flailing around in excitement. His smile never left, even when you would bounce your knee up and down or when you would snap your fingers when you remembered what you were going to say.

In his mind, you were everything he ever wanted. It was heartbreaking to see your face fall when he brought up a topic that you both wanted to know but didn’t want to say.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, especially coming from me, but you haven’t… Have you been going on dates with others or, you know, have a boyfriend?” Draco murmured.

It was almost laughable how the prince of Slytherin fumbled his words and looked almost embarrassed to ask questions such as these.

You pursed your lips and looked over at the bustling street full of muggles. Your voice was quiet when you spoke that Draco could barely hear it over the sound of the people.

“I have, but I didn’t uhm… I didn’t enjoy any of them.”

“Why not?”

The music of a muggle artist you’ve come to love started playing, making you sigh in slight annoyance. Not that you disliked the song, but because of how similar the song was to your current life.

“They didn’t meet my standards.” You meet his eyes with a distant look, his own eyes shining with interest. “It seemed like none of them could because every time I went on one — which wasn’t many — something always reels me back.”

He hummed, glancing down at your ring with slight curiosity. “And what are those standards?”

You bite your inner cheek as you look off to the side where a happy couple was walking around a fountain and pointing at the water spouts.

“I’m not sure… Just someone who I know would understand me. Someone who will willingly indulge in my interests without being rude or judgmental.” You tucked your hand to adjusted your wand poking into your side. “And preferably someone who’s already a wizard or witch. I don’t want to explain the whole thing to a muggle.”

Draco raised his eyes brows in surprise before a small smirk decorated his lips. You were still a Slytherin through and through. “Sounds like fun.”

You scoffed, “Okay, your turn. How has the dating pool been for you?”

“Actually I haven’t gone on any.” He sat back and crossed his arms across his chest, watching you flush red in embarrassment. “What’s with the face, princess?”

Stupid princess of Slytherin. You thought.

“I just thought you would’ve… Never mind.” You spin the ring again. Just before you could speak once more, Draco cut you off, surprise etching your face at the question.

“Why do you still wear that ring? I thought you would have burned it the second you could.” He tilted his head as your cheeks burned much hotter. “Or better yet, have thrown it in a rubbish heap.”

You glanced down at the Malfoy Signet adorning your ring finger. It wasn’t as big and bulky as Draco’s, but rather dainty with an emerald placed in its center. He said it was his mother’s and that she wished you would have it instead of her.

“It’s not mine to get rid of.” You slip the ring off and gently cradle it in your palm, the writing written on the inside practically a line you could recite any time if asked. “Besides, it’s too gorgeous for me to get rid of it.”

He hummed and plucked the ring from your palm, noticing your eyes following the movement carefully. “I gave it to you, so the true question is if it truly is yours or not.”

The clattering of plates and chatters from customers around you made you finally ask something that’s been itching to get out the second you agreed to talk to him.

“Why did you want to talk? And don’t say because you want to know everything that happened. And how come you never dated again? Was I that bad of a—“

Your eyes widened in surprise before pulling away, fingers coming up to touch your lips.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Draco started as he held the ring tightly in his fist, looking straight into your eyes. “Because I missed talking to you. I missed being around you without the tension between us. And I never dated anyone else because of you. You weren’t bad, you were… You were everything to me that I couldn’t replace. I couldn’t go on in life without you because I wouldn’t have anything. I would have nothing.”

Silence filled the space between the both of you as your heart began to pace faster and faster, fingers fiddling with one another.

“I swear, the universe either loves or hates us because I see you all the time and I couldn’t come up to you without you thinking it was weird.” Draco sighed and ran his slender fingers through his hair. “I know the break up was mutual for both our benefits, but I can’t help think about how our life’s could’ve been.”

You tentatively reach over his clenched hand and gently pry it open before lacing your hand with his, rubbing the soft of his hand to calm him down.

“I honestly am at a loss of words…” You began your own spiel but only stared at your joined hands. “I know that when we broke up it was going to be hard to move on. I… I really tried to but no one could ever top whatever we had.” You look up to his beautiful blue eyes that you swore could be mistaken for gray. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that… I think we should definitely try again. It’s not like we broke up to something horrible, but I guess we had different pathways for our futures.”

Draco took the ring from his palm and held it in front of you, murmuring words of distaste for a second. “Salazar Slytherin, I’m gonna sound like a fucking geek.”

You smile softly. You missed him so much. Even his stupid remarks.

“Do you promise we’ll try? Because even my worst nightmares couldn’t picture a life without you.” Draco matched your ever growing smile. “Because I have always loved you.”

Scrunching your nose, you leaned over the round table and kissed his lips softly before murmuring your own response. “That was really sentimental of you, you geek.”

He slipped the ring back on your ring finger before capturing your lips again, feeling you smile into it. “Well, I’m your geek, my love.”

read more about draco malfoy here!!

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.82)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The first beach day of the season prompts both You and Tae to talk through some of your sadness. This time, you do something about it. "You’re so gentle. I don’t think you understand it.”

Tags: Trans! Tae, Dysphoria, talks of jealousy and love, top surgery/boob jobs, medical talk, talk of weight gain, body insecurity, body dysmorphia, crack, attempts at humor boobs, fingering, mild dirty talk, voyeurism, Talks of depression, mention of seizures but no seizures today, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, talk of marriage and wedding rings, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of past self-harm, mentions of ptsd, scars, this is the beach episode that all anime's have,

W/c: 20.6k

A/n: wow! this is the chapter that officially pushes us up and over the 1million words mark of this story! i hope that everyone has enjoyed the ride so far, it feels so satisfying to get to the end of tae's arc after all this time <3 i really enjoyed writing this even if it took me a bit longer to get here. please tell me what you think of it and if you like it lol.

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

Summer comes, polishing its rusty claws.

It’s easy to feel daunted by the change in season, it always makes you feel like you’re running out of time. But change doesn’t always bring bad things. Scary Things? Sure. But alot of change is necessary, even if it's scary at first.

The date is June 1, and the change in weather is welcome. An early warm spell sends the pack scrambling to set up the outdoor furniture, cutting up watermelon after watermelon and strawberry over strawberry.

Jimin gifts Tae a new outdoor settee with a thick pink cushion and woven rattan back, dotted with swans and flowers. You and Tae tear through your sundress collection and keep your favorites on rotation. matching most days and color cordinating. You wear yellow on monday and pink on wednesday. Sometimes when Namjoon asks, you wear blue.

Hobi's sprouts come up on the windowsill and Yoongi makes him a set of four raised garden beds out front for green onions and parsley. the tomatoes that are green and small now will get a little out of control by the end of the summer.

Sort of like the roses. They heap over the rock wall. Wild and untamed and beautiful. Hobi can't bear the idea of cutting them back or even propping them up with a trellis.

But Picking the flowers for you and Tae however- that is something that Hobi can stomach.

Jungkook is perpetually empty from the nest from the hours of 6am to 9am. Intent on using as much sunlight as possible to take his ridiculous 12-mile runs. Sometimes when he feels like going slow, you go with him. He has this stupid dream of running a 5k with you (and you are unfortunately prone to indulging his stupid dreams). Even if he spends half of your morning walks teasing you for your slow pace.

You can only run like 50 feet without getting too out of breath to continue. But every day you go a little farther. Run a little longer. change is funny like that- it creeps up on you.

"Did Yoongi's mating mark make you like- more like a cat?"

"That's a really nice way of calling me lazy" you tease. Jungkook just grins. Both of your hands are sweaty and swinging between you. You have too many questions for him. “Why do you even like running anyway? Why do you want to run with me? Wouldn't it be faster if you went alone? You could run a marathon like tomorrow if you wanted.”

“Yeah, but it would be different if it was with you and I ran my first marathon when I was 20 before I even met Jimin and Tae. They're fun but only if you do it with a ton of people.” he looks down at your feet.

"When those wear out we should get matching sneakers."

"Can mine be pink?"

"Only if mine are purple."

"Deal."

When you do leave with Jungkook you always come home to Namjoon sitting on the front porch reclining in Tae's pink settee, reading and sipping his coffee. The curious chickadees twittering around you a gentle giant of a pack alpha.

Namjoon’s hair has started to go truly salt and pepper. Probably from the stress of the last year. You try to count them all one evening sprawled in the living room, spirited away playing on the TV, Namjoon on the floor sitting between your legs. He lets out a groan and tells you to stop when you get to 100.

“We could always dye it you know? You don’t need to go grey if you don’t want to. Jimin's pink for Christ's sake-” Jimin had perked up from the dining room chair, fresh dye dotting his hairline like the roses dot the rock wall outside. (And most of the windowsills since Hobi likes to pick the roses and bring them inside.)

"Yeah hyung, go pink with me! you're practically a blank canvas" Tae hums from behind Jimin, smiling down at him as she mixes a fresh bowl full of fuchsia.

Namjoon peers at the back of his head with the handheld mirror. He catches your love-struck look as you gently thread your fingers through his nape, your soft smile.

“No. It's okay.” He says. Contemplative. Even though you tell him that Tae dyes her hair so much that she has no idea when she’s going to go grey or if she’ll even ever really notice.

(Jin shaves Namjoon's hair later that week, going short for the heat and summer. And you and Jimin perpetually rub his spiky short hair, a bit obsessed with how sensory it is until he tells you to stop).

But this is how summer with the pack goes. Warm nights spent at your favorite spot and hamburgers and French fries. There are people to call, and things to orchestrate. Jin’s been going a little insane since quitting his job with the FBI, and the warm weather only makes him more prone to fussing. You hardly survived the post-heat spring cleaning.

More than once this spring Jin has demanded that Jungkook actually be hosed down outside after one of his runs turned him muddy and sweaty. Sometimes, Jin does the same with Hobi if he gets particularly grimy taming the garden. The veggies and the Roses. The walks and slow evenings. Life with the pack goes like this; a little lazy, a little busy chasing everyone around and keeping it together.

The garden grows. The sweet lemony lemony-smelling French doubles fill the yard with their scent and Red David Austins dot the fence in the corner like red stars. White fragrant French cups drape up and over the stone.

Hobi likes to pick them in the early morning, right as he has his first cup of coffee. Someone else is inside is getting you yours, or maybe you and Tae are changing for the pack's beach day. You both looked sleepy and draped all over each other when Hobi last saw you. Trailing after Jin who was already griping about the UV index as he and Tae led you in the direction of the dressing room to pick out your bikini for the day.

His careful fingers are mindful of thorns as he snips them free of the bush. A morning dove coos in the middle of the cul de sack, and Noodle meows from around his ankles guarding the alpha’s coffee (and occasionally sneaking sips. Especially if Hobi's used half and half). His baby blue cup rests in the grass slightly overgrown because Hobi is ever mindful of the pollinators.

He has a few blooms in his hands, mainly the pink ones. Hobi offers one to Noodle, crouching on creaky knees, letting the cat smell. Pushing his whiskers past the first row of petals. Purring loudly.

“What do you say Nu? Should we head inside and see if the girls like them?”

The door creaks and Hobi's coffee cup dangles from one pinky, empty. Three brightly colored beach bags wait by the door clogging the doorway and stopping Hobi from being able to open it all the way. They're piled high with towels, chip bags, and enough sunscreen to cover a small parking lot. Your and Tae's dresses are draped over the back of the couch, colorful and long patchwork spilling half onto the floor. A river of multi-colored floral squares.

Hobi can be forgiven for not immediately realizing what he’s watching.

You’re up on the counter and the bikini you wear is small, a bit too small. The red string at the back tied in a bow. One of Tae's hands tangle in it. Winding the red strand over her knuckles, back and forth between her fingers. Your bare back and your dimples are on display- distracting Hobi from what’s going on at your front. 

There’s just a lot of skin on display is all, and not much clothes. Hobi can handle it. Like a gentleman.  He restrains his imagination. Reminding himself that he's allowed to look, that he's not being creepy. But still- he's a little happy that Tae seems to be too busy whispering something to you from between your legs to notice Hobi's eyes trailing up your back.  

She's got one hand on your hip, digging into the alluring cleft where hip meets torso, the other concealed by your bodies.

You’d think he’d be used to it- you and Tae lounging around in little to nothing. Tae's gauzy collection of night dresses, or your spread of mini sleep shorts- but the mini bikini seems extra extra mini today. The thread-narrow straps and small red triangles do little to conceal your body and how it swells. 

Your milk had tapered off after the first few weeks of your heat but the swelling has been slow to go down.  That coupled with a little bit of post-heat indulgence and doting has left your body round and supple in a way that the alphas just devour. Hobi knows you've complained more than once about the newfound back aches and the new stretch marks and he sympathizes he really does but-

But fuck.

You sort of look like something off the cover of one of those vintage Playboy magazines that Tae pretends she likes for 'aesthetic reasons'. Not that Hobi judges. Hobi understands why tae's a little obsessed with them. Your chest is sort of a wet dream.

The whole pack is a lot obsessed with them.

Hobi thinks you're just kissing until You tip your head back and moan, and he almost trips over the corner of the carpet.

“Oh? You're-” Hobi's throat goes dry.

Tae picks her head up from where it was buried in your hair and laughs. Showing her canines, eyes bright and mischievous.

Her hand keeps moving between your thighs. When you try to close your legs, Tae's other hand grabs your knee and pushes them open. She does it like she hardly notices you squirming away or your sudden shyness.

Your scar shines silvery. Hobi hardly notices it. Eyes flicking down to it, to where tae grips your hip, fingers dimpling. Hardly catching the half-frantic glance you send over your shoulder at him. Caught.

Tae bites into the skin of your shoulder, so quick that Hobi almost misses it, directing your attention back to her with a jolt. It's a light correction, a playful one. There are other bruises and evidence of the pack's loving on your body too, a hickey under your jaw that hobi's pretty sure is from him. Others on the inside of your thighs from Jimin, And even more along the line of the bikini.

Jungkook has this funny habit of leaving bruises in the shape of a heart. Tilting his neck so that his hickeys make a pattern.

It's nothing Hobi hasn't seen before. This kind of thing is sort of routine for the pack. Yesterday he found Jungkook and Yoongi fucking in the sunroom, and the morning before that Hobi walked in on Jimin and Namjoon in the upstairs bathroom having some sort of staring match as Jin showered. Both of them hard and pretending they weren't.

And the day before that Tae had walked in on you and Hobi and Yoongi being…a little bit ridiculous on the front porch. Doing some all too public heavy petting that the pack alpha and pack omega would surely disapprove of if they found out.

It's not the first time Hobi has kept your secrets.

The last time Hobi saw Tae finger you, you were at the kitchen table (three mornings ago) but Hobi can't say it's not a welcome surprise. Your squirming is all you can do to keep the pack's pawing at bay when you're like this.

Tae grins, Drinking in Hobi's blush like it's strawberry lemonade. She doesn’t slow her pace at all. Two fingers or three? Her hand works in between your tights as you sag against her front, boneless. Giving in to the fact that you have an audience and Tae doesn't have any plans of stopping. Her wrist crooks to find the angle that makes your toes curl and Hobi sees it on your face the moment she finds that little spot that makes you clench extra hard.

Upstairs, Jungkook laughs loudly. Someone or something crashes into a door or a wall hard enough to make the windows in the kitchen rattle. Probably Jimin and Jungkook chasing each other around, zoomies that are sure to get worse when they get to the beach.

“Guys” Jin’s stressed tone sounds and Namjoon’s deep baritone says something in response. Too low to hear. Distracting the pack omega so that the pups can be pups. Who knows where Yoongi is, probably tightening down a screw or a loose nail or something.

Hobi smirks, kicking a hip up against the counter after refilling his coffee. Settling in to watch. The roses are forgotten about, discarded on the counter where they glimmer, going withy.

Hobi sips his coffee. Making eye contact with you over Tae's shoulder. And you blush furiously at the blatant way his eyes flicker from your face to your chest to between your legs.

"Do you-" you breathe heavily, cheek resting against Tae's arm, scrambling to paw at her hand when she crooks her fingers a little deeper, petting insistently in and in. Your bikini bottom is pushed to the side, leaving a little trickle of slick on the counter. The dewy and delicious parts of you are hardly hidden by Tae's wrist. A delighted growl-pur builds in Hobi's chest at the sight.

"Do you have to watch?" Your voice goes breath as Tae changes the angle of her hand and you throw your head back, but Hobi doesn't even blink.

"I'm quite enjoying my view thank you very much." He teases. "a settling?" He asks, taking in your dazed expression and the way you cling to her.

"Hole check." Tae quips, her tone vaguely endeared, like Jin's hole checks aren't the pack's favorite form of entertainment when it comes to teasing you and keeping you settled. Hobi's seen you get them just about everywhere; in the shower, bent over the arm of the couch. Or jin's favorite- sprawled over his lap in the nest before bed, usually post knotting.

You hiccup and paw at her wrist, but she just keeps going.

Tae growls, deep and pleased. There must be something with her instincts today, something setting her on edge. Maybe it's just the sight of you in that itty bitty bikini, a size too small for your new healthy body that spills out around its edges. Fuck- girls are so-

Hobi's grip goes white-knuckled on his coffee, and Tae shifts to the side so that Hobi can see. You duck forward into her chest overwhelmed nuzzling the faint fat there. You want to suck. To keep something in your mouth to keep the moans at bay.

You’d woken up a little bit soft-minded, a little bit more laconic than usual. Yoongi wrapped around your shoulders and Jungkook nuzzling somewhere around your stomach. No one was too surprised that it had been hard to wake you up.

It’s no wonder that Tae- usually more prone to being riled up by you in omegspace, had taken the way you’d trailed after her as something of an invitation.

You’re not wearing one of your bikini no- Hobi is intimately familiar with those (on account of how much you’ve both used the upstairs hot tub this spring) this red one is Tae's. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue but-

Tae's chest is not the same size as yours, especially not after your heat- whereas this bikini fits Tae perfectly- on you- it’s a little small.

Hobi can’t stop looking at your sternum, can't stop looking at you. the rest of the day is going to be torture. everything about you distracts him- the chub at the side of the red triangles, that freckle between your chest- all of it.

Tae grins at him like she knows and that's why she chose it, her cheek resting on the top of your head, smiling gently like she’s not knuckle deep in your pussy. Your bikini bottom is pushed to the side darkening to a faint maroon.

Her hand keeps moving, nudging sweet little sounds from you. Her hands are glossy to the knuckle and you know you’re leaking onto the kitchen counter (not that it hasn’t seen worse) you bury your nose in her throat, and let out these little huffs, and tae's hand slips under the side of your bikini to feel the flutter of your heart.

or just feel you up a bit. Her squeezes are appreciative and surprisingly tender.

Ah, fuck.

Hobi crosses his arms and sips at his coffee. You make eye contact with him and then shy away, hiding your moans in Tae's shoulder. Tae's bikini is dotted with small flowers, white on top and pink on the bottom.

Her chestnut hair is extra curly- Hobi doesn’t know why she bothered with the rollers when any effort that she puts into her hair will be damaged by the salt water later but still. It spills over her shoulders in pretty waves. She’s still wearing a clip at the nape of her neck, Hobi darts forward to take it out as you let out high-pitched ‘ah- ah- ah's

“Yah guys! Not in the kitchen! We eat here.” Jin already has a healthy glob of sunscreen covering both his cheeks, depositing yet another beach bag by the front with a loud and uncermous thud as he catches sight of what you and tae and now hobi are doing in the kitchen.

You can tell by the brief glance you cast over Tae's shoulder that he was planning on hassling you to get some sunscreen on too, a task now forgotten.

Tae cocks an eyebrow at Jin, and her fingering goes a little stronger, she picks up one of your legs hips splaying wider, showng jin too. "Yeah? I eat here too."

Jin huffs, half laughing. Hobi snorts into his coffee. "You're unbelievable."

“Just one sec, she’s almost there.”

You hide your face in Tae's shoulder, blushing furiously at the casual way she says it, all but pawing at her. Your fingers dig into her arm, the delicate bracelets on her wrists jingle and she crooks her fingers right there.

“You’re just gonna stand there? Your bathing suit is still upstairs?”

Tae grins at Hobi, pressing her thumb against your clit in the way that makes you squeal. All but ignoring your predicament. Hobi knows you like it when your pleasure is treated as routine, as something casual. Hardly worth mentioning or acting up over. They could make you cum over breakfast and then in the car and it would just be taking care of you. they'd decide and you'd take it. 

“And what? Miss the show?”

Jin sighs and forces you to untuck your head from her shoulder. "you have until she cums before I make you go upstairs and change baby."

"But-"

"No buts." you bite your lip to keep your moans at bay. Eyes dazed and foggy, completely small underneath their attention. “Pretty little thing,” Jin comments, eyes dark. Tae's hips shift ever so slightly. Like she’s supremely aware of the pack omega so close behind her.  And Jin’s hand crests your knee and your ankle, holding you open so that Tae can continue.

“Close your eyes pup,” You moan through it, Jin spreading a generous layer of sunscreen on your cheeks as Tae's hand works, turning your bathing suit dewy, wet, and messy.

You whine, high-pitched quiet. Jimin trips over the carpet in the main room same as Hobi, eyes flicking from Tae's hands to you then back again. “Oh, I- oh”

Hobi takes another swallow of his coffee, "yeah, oh" Hobi watches Jimin's eyes flicker from your pussy, to the wet countertop below.

Jimin's been being…a bit weird about your slick since your heat. A little bit less likely to reach out to you, to touch you. Like he’s too mindful of his own desires (or of triggering an early rut, Jimin is sort of due for one just like Hobi- he can feel it, an itch under his skin sometimes that threatens to build). But still unable to stop the almost magnetic draw to you in the evenings when the night falls and the hours grow slow.

He hasn’t exactly been obsessed with your pussy since your heat, but to say there's have barely been a 2-day span where Jimin hasn’t sought you out would be true. There's hardly been an evening that he hasn’t folded himself close in the nest and shuffled up behind you. Needy and a bit hard already at just the thought of asking. It's hard to pretend like he hasn’t sat next to you at every available opportunity. That Jimin hasn't trailed behind you and Tae or closed the door to the library room when Tae decides she needs some 'personal reenactment' for a chapter in her book.

Hobi doesn't blame Jimin for being pussy whipped. Hell- all of them are a little obsessed with it. He's heard Namjoon and Jin talking about it, late at night when they think no one is awake.

"The doctor did say that we should be careful. About her slick and us alpha's."

"Do you think they could get like- dependant on it?"

"I think it's only an issue if the pup says it is." Jin had snorted, and the sound of lips connecting had slightly woken Hobi from sleep. Wet and messy kisses getting messier by the second.

"If Minnie wants help, he'll come to us."

Hobi sort of wonders if this is like that, if Tae is like that with you, either addicted or dependent on it and that's why she's fingering you on the kitchen counter. Watching as you paw at Tae's wrist as it starts to become too much, moaning against her throat as she stalwartly continues to rub up against the spongy part of you.

Hobi could tell you the exact moment that she tips you over the edge. Fingers reaching just a bit deeper in almost a petting motion. Hobi laughs, and your squirming goes a little overstimulated, trying to pull back, gripping Tae's wrist with a choked-off moan. But Tae won't stop until you actually start to tremble.

Your body seizes and then relaxes, and you cling to her, sighing, burying your face in her neck to hide from the others who shuffle around the kitchen. Yoongi barely pauses to dot a kiss on your forehead before he gets the cut-up watermelon out of the freezer and asks Jimin to carry the cooler up from the basement. The others continue to chatter.

"Did you grab the lemonade?"

"Yes!" Jungkook bounces around the kitchen, already with so much energy even though he's had no caffeine.

"And the liquid iv?"

"Yes hyung- yes, come on- the tide is changing and I wanna make sure we have high tide for body surfing-"

"Wait Yoongi- could you check the oil in Hobi's car-" 

"I checked it two days ago." Hobi puts his empty coffee cup in the sink.

"Before or after you and the pup took it out? I know how you drive baby."

That makes Hobi blush, it’s as gentle of a scolding as Jin is capable of giving, "Hyung-"

"Go change pup."

Hobi sighs and follows the pack omega's instructions. Tae keeps her fingers inside of you until you’ve had the chance to come down all the way, until your breathing has gone heavy and you blink up at her, feeling a little hazy. She grins and kisses you on the nose. She takes her fingers out with a faint squelch, wiping them on a kitchen towel before she gently puts your bikini back in place. You whine and squirm.

Namjoon comes down the stairs, nostrils flaring, looking up at you and Tae, you’re a bit debauched, but Jin continues rubbing sunscreen onto your cheeks, switching to Tae's after a second. “Are you guys ugh- ready to go?”

Tae shuffles away with a lazy grin. You blink at her like you're half surprised that she's left you alone on the counter. She asks for it, and Jimin hands her both of your dresses, she pulls her dress over her head and sets yours on the counter.

“Hold on, one sec,” Tae fixes your bikini bottom, putting it back in place before dropping to one knee. Your hand goes into her hair, tugging and blushing furiously as she does. Trying to pull her back up as the whole pack watches her press a kiss over your pussy lips, the wet fabric of your bottom clinging to them, showing everything. Every ridge and dip.

Tae doesn't lick or nibble. She just kisses your wet spot and pops up onto her feet with a grin, hair bouncing,

“There we go, ready!”

~-~

It’s an uncommonly hot day for June. The seagulls turn slowly in a circle, like one big mobile buffered by the gentle ocean breeze. Even the screaming children feel quiet, dampened by the sound of the ocean waves roaring.

You almost bump into Jungkook as he helps unload the car, a brightly colored beach bag under either arm. Shirt already off and looking drippy and boyish in the summer sunshine, romantic looking in a way that only Jungkook can gring. He grins, his tousled hair just so before he ducks down to peck your forehead and dance around you.

You sway in the sunlight like a reed before toppling back into the passenger seat.

Hobi leans low, hands balanced on the hot metal roof of the car. Eyeing you over the rim of his dark sunglasses. A little worried. The others dart around both of you. Getting the bags, the cooler, the umbrella from the cars.

“You okay?” He asks and you fiddle with the ribbon on your sunhat, not meeting his eyes.

“Yeah,” you say after a second. You'd spent the whole car ride staring out the half-cracked window, eyelashes catching the wind. Hair going tangly until Tae leaned forward from the backseat to put it up for you in a claw clip.

The rendezvous earlier hadn't woken you up, not like they'd hoped, not at all. Hobi looks at you for another long moment before saying, “okay, I’m going to believe that until you tell me otherwise alright?”

“Alright.” You say, trying to convince yourself to smile. It’s easy when Hobi is looking at you like that. It's a nice day, you should enjoy it without worrying.

But the worry is hard to let go of.

Jin's endless chatter is the companion to your quiet. "Joonie- did we pack the watermelon? Did anyone see my SPF 70? Jungkook- do not run down the stairs, you remember what happened when you slipped and you skinned your knee? that goes the same for you too Hobi! Yoongi did you remember your sun top? Where did I put my sunglasses- thank you, baby.” Yoongi hands them over, dark hair glistening shiny, and healthy under the sun.

Tae wears a big pink sunhat and you wear a black one, sparing your shoulders from the sun, although they’ve been dotted and smeared with sunscreen too. Although the pack omega made each and every one of you line up for another layer of sunscreen and morning kisses before getting into the car you know today will leave you with tan lines no matter how many times Jin asks you to re-apply.

Especially when it comes to swimming.

The ocean hovers, stretching to the end of the world. The tide is still high but turning. A storm surge from a few days back has left even the waves aggressive at low tide. “Buddy system- Jungkook, you’re not allowed to go out on your-” Jungkook ignores Jin’s griping, dashing out into the hot sand. Jimin and Hobi and Tae hot on his heels.

The pack files down the steps, toting woven chairs and tasseled umbrellas, Yoongi’s face looks several shades lighter than normal from the sheer amount of sunscreen that he’s applied. He grumbles and hugs a big 2-gallon jug of water and lemon slices to his chest. But Jin is a professional. Each of them hold one fishing rod a peice, a small tackle box between the two of them is all that they need.

From the bottom of the steps, Namjoon waits.

He smiles up at you. You’re taking the steps slowly, one at a time in your squeaky plastic flip-flops hugging the big woven beach blanket to your chest. Jungkook Jimin and Hobi are already chasing each other across the sand, halfway to the ocean. You watch Jungkook dive, all but tackling Jimin up and over the dunes, Hobi valiantly comes to the other alpha’s rescue, but it’s no use, the three of them go rolling and tumbling. You can see the sand in Jungkook’s dark hair from here.

Namjoon smiles at you from the bottom steps, switching from holding the packs cooler with two hands to one, he offers you his hand wordlessly tugging the cooler behind him while you walk. Waiting for you to take off your flip-flops and hook them through his fingers so that you don't have to hold them.

Namjoon and you trail behind, the pack alpha going slow for you. Your hat nudges his shoulder. Yoongi and Jin walk a few paces ahead, bickering like an old married couple about the place you'll set up shop, matching rings on their fingers, bound between the two of them even if they’re both carrying too much. They still hold hands.

The rings are a new development, simple silver bands for the two of them, a tiny diamond on Jin's. You don’t know when it exactly started to come up in conversation (shortly after you'd drunkenly announced that you wanted to marry Tae maybe, although that was months ago at this point) but somewhere along the last 4 months, they've both started to wear them every day. One morning you’d woken up to Yoongi grumbling about ring sizes, that all the nitrogen from the day before was making his fingers feel too swollen for it.

You're hardly surprised.

They’re just testing it out, just making sure to see if they even like wearing them. Is it even a real marriage if they haven't filled out the paperwork and don't want to do anything like a ceremony? Does starting to wear rings even matter when Yoongi and Jin have already been semi-married in everything but paperwork for nearly all of their adult lives?

You’d known sort of from the beginning that Yoongi had always planned on marrying Jin, regardless of the mating mark. Maybe it would bother you more if you weren't fully planning on marrying Tae one day.

But with that you're going slow. Like today, you're in no rush.

Just like you plan on marrying Tae, just like you're sort of already mated to Hobi- regardless of the fact that you'll never bite him and he'll never be able to bite you. The feelings are still there.

You’d talked about it with Yoongi shortly after your heat. Alone, just the two of you cuddled up together late one night in the nesting pod after a bit of pack revelry. you can still hear everyone upstairs if you listen hard enough, spilling from the upstairs windows. The windows open to allow in a stray sun-warmed breeze. The weather shifting, the season changing and another summer is on its way.

"It feels like something I need to do before I finish the house. You know? Like it doesn't make sense to finish the house and not be married to Jin inside of it."

"This sort of feels like you're breaking up with me."

Yoongi had rushed to reassure you before he'd clocked your teasing expression. that really- you were just joking. he'd bent over you, and you'd put your foot flat to his stomach and pushed playful. A little tipsy, a little silly.

"Does that mean i can ask you out again if we're broken up?"

"Why don't you ask your husband first!"

It’s hard to believe that it’s been a full year since the pack moved in and yet, the empty champagne bottles on the floor linger gathering condensation. Tae had pushed you to celebrate it. The house is almost nearly complete too- there are only a dozen or so odd tasks that Yoongi has yet to do, picking a color for the exterior of the house being one of them.

They linger on the edge of his to-do list, so unimportant when it comes to the regular responsibilities of the pack beta. Like taking Jungkook to work, cooking dinner and doing the shopping, taking Noodle to his vet and grooming appointments, and picking Namjoon up after his night shifts (of which there are thankfully few).

And edit Tae's novel.

It’s almost complete but in need of serious serious review. She’d asked you first, but you’d read it, cried, and deemed it a complete masterpiece a welcome compliment but not exactly what she’d been looking for. Tae's sensitive heart cannot take much criticism, especially for something so close to her soul. But Yoongi and Jin are gentle enough.

Jimin, Namjoon, and Hobi had all asked to read it as well. And had whined and tried to barter when she told them that they'd need to wait to read the finished product.

You have a feeling that might have to do with the main character and the love interest. The love interest is a bit of all of them- although you confess you can’t read it without picturing Hobi or Jungkook in their slot.

But for today everything can wait. Editing books and chapters. Words and confessions. Everything can wait in the wake of a beach day. It's so rare that no one has to work, on a weekday no less. Jimin’s off from his bodyguarding, Jungkook doesn’t have another client or class scheduled until two days from now, and Namjoon’s next day of work isn’t until then either. You guess it’s just really you, Jin, Tae, and Yoongi who are regularly without anything to do these days.

Although that might be changing soon.

You’d submitted your application over a month ago, and yet, there has been nothing, no rejection or confirmation. No nothing. Although you’ve gone out and gotten the mail every morning without fail. Hobi is always reassuring you that there is still time, and that even if you don’t get in this cycle there’s always next semester.

Yeah, you’d taken his advice and applied for culinary school. You talk through it all the time, late at night on a drive, over lunch when you bring it to the flower shop after he forgets it at home again, after Jungkook's early morning walk/runs.

“As much as I hate to point it out but becoming a baker will mean that you’ll have to wake up like- really early every day. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

You’d whined and flopped down into the nest on top of Hobi, shuffling to the side to get your body all aligned up against the pack omega. Still Half-asleep, glasses askew, Yoongi already carrying three cups of coffee up the stairs, steaming good.

“I know- I know," Although the rest of the pack defaults to being encouraging, Hobi is the only one who asks questions like this. "I don’t know if I’m like- so focused on the results or that I just want to go to school in general but-"

He'd grinned at you. "You want it too bad for it to matter."

"Yeah…I think I do. Even if I don't even like do anything with it after. It would be nice to like- understand why I can't make a fucking souffle."

"You're the shame of the regimen."

"What do your superiors do with you." (Tae made you watch Pride and Prejudice again a week ago and you've been quoting it back and forth since then.)

Wanting something enough to try for it is strange for you. It feels strange to have a dream after so many years of straight survival. But the pack isn’t really hurting for money these days, what with your old penthouse sold to the highest bidder and the dizzying sum put into stocks and bonds that pay out at regular intervals.

It's more than enough to make your taxes and utilities and even have a good bit left over at the end of every month. You're not really involved with it, Jin and Yoongi handled all of it. The sale, the business with the realtor, and property in Manhattan always goes for a lot, even with a burnt-up top floor.

It's a strange thing, but you honestly don’t even have to think about money anymore. No one in the pack does.

Although that’s not what’s making you quiet.

Your slowness right now has nothing to do with your and Tae's rendezvous earlier. If anything, you might be worse if it wasn't for her. You have that vaguely disgruntled look that Jimin gets when he's overstimulated today. Like your skin isn't fitting right, or your hair is pressing in from all sides. It's not overstimulation- not exactly.

Your thoughts are still somewhere too slow for summertime. Dripping and melting slowly like ice cream. By the time you get over the hill, Hobi is wearing Tae's sunhat and Jimin is holding her flip-flops. Jungkook is walking backward several paces in front of them. Saying something that makes Jimin throw one of Tae's flip-flops at him.

Jungkook takes it and runs. Tae's pink sunhat goes fluttering in the breeze and the three of them chase after him until they drop their towels and bags in a spot that Jin and Yoongi deem alright enough and continue their pell-mell puppy tumble to the ocean, Tae's pink flipflop nearly gets taken by the sea but Jungkook dives for it.

"Help me set up the umbrella?" Yoongi asks, touching your arm gently. You nod, happy to have some shade in the bleeding sunlight. You hold it still while Jin fluffs out the beach blanket and Namjoon sets up the chairs, and when you're finished and Namjoon sits in the camping chair, Jin and Yoongi meander their way towards the shoreline, still holding hands both of them covered to the wrist.

"They look like a pair of grandmas."

Namjoon looks up at Yoongi and Jin and grins, "Yeah they do."

You plop down on the blanket just next to him and Namjoon raises an eyebrow at you. "Are you sure you don't want a chair?"

"I'm sure."

Namjoon spends a long moment looking at you, but you're not paying attention to him. You watch Jimin spin Tae in the sea spray, her dress twirling with him, she holds around his neck until he puts her down, pulling her dress over her shoulders too. Jimin runs it back to your things, grinning at you and ducking low to kiss your forehead then Joonie’s mouth.

You still watch Tae, mouth a little turned down as you watch her. taking in the way her shoulders hunch, the way she looks down at her body and then up at Jimin.

Joonie makes a noise and Jimin ruffles his buzz cut before darting back to Tae with a giggle. you watch tae straighten up before he gets back over to her. The pack alpha shakes his head. Tae has crossed her arms over her chest, but she’s still smiling at Jimin.

Tae has always been better than you are at pretending that nothing is wrong.

The ocean is speckled with people, brightly colored swimsuits, and beachballs. You’re glad you came on a weekday because there aren't too many people here. It's not crowded. From a distance, the Ferris wheel turns slow and when you listen you can almost hear the Jingle of the carousel mixing with the screech of the gulls.

You know that later there will be fried dough and milkshakes up on the pier and a walk on the boardwalk later. You should be more excited for that, you love fried dough and you’ve been meaning to try and make your own for the longest time.

Jin is quick to call Jungkook and Jimin back for more sunscreen and to take off his clothes before he gets them wet. Really he's getting a little ridiculous with it. Jungkook and Jimin strip the rest of their clothes until there's little left beyond a tiny red Speedo.

It causes more than a few groans. Your mate looks away, laughs, then looks back.  "Jungkook-" "Really Koo-"

"What? I wanted to match the pup!" That actually gets a laugh out of you. You touch his knee and Jungkook smiles down at you, winks, and bounds off in the direction of Tae and Jimin. 

Tae looks gorgeous running through the water, her hair quickly during dark from the salt water. Both of them tug your mate into the water when he dares to come too close and it's seconds before Yoongi sinks a Jungkook-shaped necklace wrapped around his shoulders to pull him to sea. Yoongi puts up a valiant fight you can hear his "yah!" from here.

Jimin isn’t far behind. Getting more than a few looks as he wets his hair and flips in back. You find it hard to look at Jimin and Tae actually. Flustered. Hobi is already 50 feet down the beach, head lowered to look for things that have washed up. Headphones barely visible at this distance. You didn’t want to walk down the beach today with him, too tired.

And it’s so hot.

You sigh, Namjoon is already flipping through his book (fiction for a change- probably one of Tae's recommendations if you had to guess from the ballgown on the front.) You watch as Hobi becomes a dot on the horizon.

You sort of wish that you’d gone with him after a few minutes. You alternate between watching him become smaller and smaller, and watching Tae, Jungkook, and Jimin roughhouse in the water while Yoongi and Jin stand in knee-high waves, keeping an eye on them and talking. Still holding hands. Mostly just making sure nothing happens.

You know the pack is always worried, always just a little bit extra watchful of Jungkook on beach days. It’s always a risk, having him go out and swim. But someone's always nearby. If anything happened, if he started having a seizure, the rest of the pack wouldn’t be that far away. He's never had a seizure in the water before but it's always a risk. Jungkook doesn't act like he's nervous whatsoever, pushing off from the bottom when the big waves come and diving where they break, cutting through the water like it's effortless.

You feel a little too tired to share in their worry today.

The pack has picked up on it of course, that there is something wrong with you today. That something is turning you quiet and a little bit grumpy. There are only so many forehead kisses and reassurances that they you can give before you sort of have to come to them for help. Tae at least had tried this morning. And while you hadn’t not enjoyed your rendezvous…

Namjoon opens up the cooler. Offering you a piece of watermelon. You decline it.

“Do you want some water?”

“No Joonie.” You cover your feet with sand. Wiggling your bright red toes up through it before covering them again.

"How about an ice cream?”

You snort. “It’s not even noon.” You find a little pink shell in the sand, sun-bleached, and you balance it on Namjoon's knee. The pack alpha watches you line it up with others you find searching through the sand. You'll show Hobi when he gets back.

“I won't tell Jin if you don't, we could walk and get some for everyone?” he offers. Folding his book to the side. Index finger keeping his place.

“They’d melt and I’m still full of breakfast.” Hobi had made French toast this morning, sticky and yummy and melty with how good it was. Your lips are stuck in a pout, and you school your expression into something neutral the second you realize.

Namjoon gets barely another paragraph under his belt before he's trying again. “Are you sure you don’t want to join the others in the water?”

“No Joonie,” You nudge his novel with your elbow, “Read your book.”

“We could get you some lemonade or something else from the boardwalk? It’s kind of hot out you know, you should be careful of heatstroke.”

“Joonie-”

“Pup.”

Namjoon folds his book in half again, raising an eyebrow at you. You know he’s asking you to tell you what’s wrong without actually doing it. An invitation if ever there was one.

The cool ocean breeze tickles your forehead comforting. “Do you wanna tell me why you’re a little grumpy this morning, or do you want me to wait until noon until I start to actually try and cheer you up?”

"You are cheering me up."

A look at your phone tells you noon is about 40 minutes away, and the temptation to wallow is there but-

You pull up the hem of your long skirt. Green and yellow and embroidered, Tae got it for you special just for today, it was wrapped in gauzy paper this morning at the end of the settee in the dressing room. One for herself already hanging in your shared closet. You like matching with Tae- you always do, but-

She looked so good in hers, and you couldn’t help but feel like it didn’t look the same on you- your legs too short and stubby, your arms, just a little too pudgy when you turn to the side. You don't pick yourself apart in the mirror nearly as bad as you used to. And it's stupid, because you know she probably thought the exact opposite about how it fit you. You’d seen it just briefly, the way that her eyes had fixated on your chest and then quickly looked away.

You don’t make Tae feel dysphoric often but you hate it when you do.

She'd noticed you noticing, and then in the best way she knew how she'd distracted you from your own feelings and let you know just how delectable she found you in your bikini and dragged you downstairs into the kitchen-

Ugh, today might be a good day if you could only get over it. You might be happy to spend it here, lounging with the pack alpha but it’s also a bad day too.

You kneed the sand with your feet. And Namjoon waits for you to speak, recognizing that you’re working through it. You bury your head in your knees, skin pressed to skin, holding around your calves tight.

"I thought I’d have more time, when the weather started to change and Tae and I started looking at bikinis. All of them were just so small and I’m so big now.”

“Pup, you’re perfect,” You can tell Namjoon means it.

“I know, I just want to feel more comfortable.” you say it like you don’t really believe it. Steamrolling past the pack alpha before he has a chance to argue with you. To pry. “I ordered a one-piece and I know that but-” you tug your knees to your chest, feet sandy, flipflops discarded. Pink. Tae's matching ones are a few sizes larger and not far, resting in the sand.

“But I also don’t want anyone to look at the scars on my back.”

A gull squawks and Jungkook giggles as he gets up on Jin's shoulders. tae is already perched on Jimin's, playing a game of chicken. An extra large wave hits them from the side and they both go tumbling. Laughing and falling into the salt water. Yoongi smiles from his spot with his fishing pole, screwing with his line and then Jin's, getting them set up. Namjoon drops his book to the side.

“Ah. So that’s what it is.”

“It doesn't bother me when you guys see them but-“

You look at the waves instead of at him. And you realize it honestly hadn’t occurred to him that that might be the reason why you’re nervous, why you’re off today. You hadn’t really realized it either, not until you caught Tae looking at them this morning and then Hobi.

You look at the ocean, and then back at Namjoon. He folds his book and puts it away. Beneath his big body, the beach chair creeks. You lay your head against the sun-bleached wood of the arm rest. His fingers naturally find themselves in your hairline, rubbing at your temple. You don’t know how he knew that you’ve got a headache but the relife is near instant.

“It’s not that I’m even that self-conscious of them.” You say after a moment. You don’t think about it at all when it’s just the pack when it’s just the eight of you. You don't feel nervous when you're walking around in a bra with Tae or in a bandeau and a pair of Jungkook’s sweats when he eventually badgers you into stretching in the sunroom. You never think about them when it's days like that.

“If anyone looks, I can tell them off for you.”

“No, you don’t need to, I just-” You watch a little kid and his friends toss a ball to each other, getting too close to the waves until it's swallowed by the seafoam, Jungkook is close to it. He gets it for them before it has a chance to get swept out for sea. They scream and crowd him. You get it- all little kids sort of love Jungkook.

“I don’t want anyone thinking that it’s you guys who did that to me, I don’t want anyone to look and wonder how it happened.”

You think of it, the scar, the sharpness of a knife, your face under Geumjae’s boot. It doesn’t bother you to remember it anymore. All the pain from it is so far away. But anger has a habit of sticking around.

“It doesn’t matter to me, if it matters to you, I understand, but I don’t care what strangers think about us, not anymore.” You feel warm at that, that the pack alpha doesn’t care about his reputation so long as you know who he is. The content of his heart and soul, or whatever.

“It matters to me just- I hate them, I hate having them.” You bury your hands in the sand to hide that they’re trembling and this time, when Namjoon passes you a slice of watermelon you take it from him.

"Come with me to get ice cream?"

"Did you only suggest it earlier because you wanted to get some?"

"Yeah," he admits, he gets up from the chair. Hand out, waiting.

You put your palm against his and he pulls you to your feet. "Okay, only if I can get mint chocolate."

His face goes sour, “pup-” you laugh and down the beach, Hobi picks his head up from looking down, pockets heavy with sea glass, listening to the sound of it on the wind and smiles.

Your hands stay like that, tangled together between the both of you. Now that you're talking about it, it's hard to stop.

“At first, I was so disgusted with myself that I’d let someone do that to me. You know I didn’t fight back until the end, not really, not until Yoongi.” Namjoon hums, and lets you vent. Let’s you talk it through as you walk up the steep steps. You know he knows all of this but you want to vent.

“I spent so long thinking I deserved it, wondering if I did, and trying to convince myself that I didn’t. I still don’t know if deserving has anything to do it. But after I stopped wondering, I just got angry.”

The sun beats down, burning the sand and bleaching the earth slowly, leaching the color out of everything, the seashells, Namjoon’s eyes, the grey strands in his hair. Everything. “I got angry at me, and then at him, and then at myself again because I couldn’t punish him.”

Your feet thump up onto the boardwalk, staccato. Namjoon pauses so you can put on your pink flip-flops. You know he doesn't want you to get splinters. “Do you still want to punish him?”

“No.”

You realize how true it is, you really, don't think you want revenge anymore. “I just want to let go of all of it and start again, I just want it to not matter anymore. I don’t care about it and I’m not ashamed of what he did to me because that’s his shame to bear now. Even though he's dead."

"But I still don’t how to let it go. I still have the scars. I don’t want to hold onto all this rage and grief and fear anymore. I woke up angry, and I'm trying to let go of it, that's why I'm grumpy.”

Namjoon’s voice is so deep, that it’s almost hard to hear over the crash of the waves. “I don’t know how you let go of it, I don’t know how to grow. Change is of course natural and you can't avoid it- but I think healing is different for each person. Some people just need love and care, and some people need a fire lit underneath them. I won’t sell you a false promise because I don’t know if it’s possible for everyone to heal. Brains aren't like bodies.”

Namjoon pauses, and he glances at you tentatively, like he’s not sure he’s supposed to say what he wants to. The second you clock the look you want to know what he’s thinking. He must guess it from your face because he soldiers on.

“But you’re so gentle. I don’t think you understand it. you don't understand how rare it is, how special you are to have gone through so much and still be gentle. Your anger doesn't take that away. Not to me."

“Oh, uhm- thanks?”

"And I think if you weren’t healing, we’d know.” Namjoon still has the tacky feeling of sunscreen- probably from spreading it on Tae's shoulders. When he touches your cheek, tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. Eventually, you say,

“I don’t want anything about me to be violent anymore. I think I’ve earned it.”

“You have,” Namjoon says. You need it, the permission to be this way, permission to be peaceful after fighting for so long. There is no joy in this trying, there is no satisfaction in trying to get better if you can’t have peace.

So, what if life gets a little boring eventually? It's better than things being painful all the time. You have your coffee; you go to the beach with the people you love. What will the unblemished skin of your back feel like when the scars are gone?

You want to know. You realize it then, that you wish you didn't have them. That not having them would be easier. You want a new body, you want a new life, or maybe not a new one- But the same one just different, without all the pain and anguish and struggle.

When you look back at the pack, they’re nothing but dots among the ocean. Your heart pangs when you realize you can’t pick out Tae.

Namjoon squeezes your hand. “What are you worried about?”

“Tae's feeling dysphoric today, it’s kind of odd that we’re so in sync don't you think? I’m feeling like shit about my body and what’s been done to it, and she’s feeling like shit because hers won’t love her right.”

Namjoon tips his head. “I noticed. How do you think we could help?”

The pack alpha is asking you how to care for another member of your pack, and you wish you knew better how to say it. How to explain what tae needs. You feel so fragile today, you’re not sure you could help but- loving Tae is easy for you. Loving Tae has always felt like breathing.

“I don’t know. Probably just braid her hair and tell her she looks lovely. Support her. You’re good at doing that. You don’t need my help.”

Namjoon kicks at the boardwalk, “I wonder if it will ever not matter to her if she’ll ever truly reclaim her body and make it what she wants. Do you think she should stop trying? That she should stop wearing dresses, even if it never makes her feel the way she wants it to?”

“No, never, Tae should always try. I love her and I just want her to be okay.”

Namjoon takes your hand, turning it over tracing a scar on the back of your hand. It's a burn scar, one of the ones you gave yourself back when you wanted hurt because you didn’t know how to make everything stop hurting. It makes sense- in a recursive sort of way.

“Then I think you can try to let it go, and if it doesn’t work the first time or the second or the third you just try again. You can try, even if you think you’ll fail. If Tae deserves it then you deserve it too.”

“Sometimes all I want is a do-over, sometimes all I want is a new life. I've wasted so much time being sad-”

Namjoon drops your hand and then holds it out. Smiling brightly in that what that only the pack alpha can, dimples and all. His tone switches from serious to goofy so quick that it gives you whiplash “My name's Kim Namjoon, it's nice to meet you, what's yours?”

“Joonie.”

His eyes are teeming with mirth, the kind of goofiness that Namjoon only really has when he’s one-on-one. You won’t do him the disservice of thinking that he’s only this goofy with you. You know he acts this way with the others too.

But when it's all of you together Namjoon is always counting heads and bending down to tie loose shoelaces. He's not silly like this. He's your caretaker and your confidant, your pack alpha, and sort of your dad in the best kind of non-creepy way. You've learned alot from him over the last year, you've grown alot with him.

“I’m here with my pack, I think you’d really like them. Especially my girl, Tae.” He bumps his shoulder into yours and you giggle. He holds the door to the ice cream shop open for you with a faint jingle.

"Can I have your maraschino cherry?"

"Yeah. You can even eat the others too and I won't tell. I’m getting an extra sugar cone too."

"Deal." You don't end up getting mint ice cream at all, the strawberry gram cracker is too tempting for you. You're ladened with them when you're on your way back, the shop has these special little insulated cups to keep the ice cream cold, but it's still in danger of melting.

Namjoon is a little quieter, that might just be from the sheer amount of ice cream that both of you hold and the concentration it takes to avoid spilling it. You've got a strawberry milkshake for Tae, a peanut butter scoop and split for Jin, something with caramel for Yoongi that Namjoon thought he'd like, and fish-shaped samanco for Jimin and a chocolate covered banana for Jungkook. The whipped cream and cherries hardly make it off the boardwalk.

But you sense there's something more to it, that there is something more to Namjoon's quiet than simple concentration.

So, before you get back to the others you pause, sun beating down, ice-cream melting. "If you want to say something Joonie, just say it."

His eyes are heavy-lidded. "I know you doubt your progress, but you are getting better. I think with healing, it's either heal now, heal later, or heal never. And while I don't think you're wasting any time at all because healing isn't a waste, but-" Namjoon takes a deep breath, looking at you, unable to tear your eyes away,

"I'm really really glad you decided to heal now, because I get to spend a lot more time with you and I like spending time with you. I'll hash this out with you as many times as you need me too because I love you."

"Oh," you blink at him, at the sun, trying not to cry, pausing in the sand. Namjoon looks a little alarmed that you've stopped walking.

"The ice cream is melting."

You ignore him, you can’t pull him close because you’re holding too many ice creams. So you just demand "Come here." It takes a bit of juggling on his part but he leans down and kisses you. A bit of whipped cream ends up in the sand, but you'll just tell Jin that you ate his instead.

You already ate the cherry on top anyway.

"Oh! They're back!"

The pack is towling themselves off, with sandy bottoms and wet heads. You grin as Yoongi excitedly tells you that he's gotten 2 nibbles on his fishing rod, two! At this rate you'll be having fish for dinner. Even Jin has let himself be dunked, and you disseminate the ice cream to everyone with thank you side hugs and thank you kisses.

No one comments that all the cherries are missing.

Tae flops down next to you and then Jimin on the other side competing for the shade. "Oooh strawberry." "Can I try a spoonful of yours?" Jimin asks, then hums, eyeing it, "We can switch if you want Minnie." You offer before he can pout. "Oh, really? You don't care?" you shrug, you don't mind red bean. It sort of always reminds you of Yoongi and Jin since they like it so much. You trade back and forth and then.

"Hobi's back too!"

A smile stretches your face before you’ve even caught his scent in the air. When you look up Hobi has his hair held back by his sunglasses and his headphones are looped his neck. Pockets round and hands full, looking freckly already. "You didn't go far?"

"Yeah, got too hot" Hobi grins dropping to his knees on the beach blanket. "And besides I got a lot."

"Oh show!"

He dumps out his sea spoils while you lick ice cream off of your spoon and nibble at Jimin’s Samanco. Oohing and aahing over his chunks of glass and pretty shells. And he takes a nibble when you offer him one, but only a bite before he relents-

"It's so hot, I wanna go swim. You haven't been yet? Wanna come?" Your hands are sticky and your mouth goes dry. But before you can tell him no Namjoon is already taking off his shirt, jumping when Jungkook's hands get a little pinchy at the gentle chub around his waist. "Here, you can wear this-"

Oh, it's perfect. You take off your dress and you miss the heavy knowing glances between Jungkook and Jin and the hungry way Jimin's eyes flicker up from your waist to your face, the way that Tae can hardly look at you. Yoongi taps Jungkook on the shoulder when he reaches to squeeze and give you the same treatment Namjoon got, shaking his head imperceptibly. You have your back to it so you don't see.

You are this way; taken care of even when you are unaware of it and loved even when it is not seen. The pack knows that what you need today is not any more of that sort of attention. Tae gave you enough earlier. They watch, wink, and linger. Unseen by you. Does love matter any less if you don’t know it?

You put Namjoon's shirt on and it falls just below your hip. It's worn at the shoulders. A hole in the hem that Jimin hooks his finger into experimentally. Making a deep hum in his mouth around the sugar and sweet. The texture has passed your pickiest alpha's inspection. Perfect. No one asks why you feel the need to wear it or why Namjoon offers it up.

Jin immediately reaches for the tube of sunscreen and starts spreading it on Namjoon's shoulders, leaning against the pack alpha's back when he's done and resting his chin on the top of Namjoon's head.

Namjoon tilts his face up, pressing a quick kiss under Jin's jaw. Licking his lips and grimacing. "You taste like sunscreen hyung."

"I'm going to ignore that because when I'm fifty I'll be pretty and wrinkle and skin cancer free and you'll be even more grey." Namjoon turns, touches his hip fondly, and then glances to you.

“i'm sticky, I’ll come with.” Namjoon doesn't offer you the choice, he makes the decision for you and you're so thankful you don't know how to say it. You finish your ice creams and when Hobi takes your hand, you let him pull you up and into the water. You let him tug you until you're running the last few feet before you and the ocean collide. Cold, but just right, just what you need underneath the heat. Jungkook runs with you too, barreling through the waves.

Yoongi and Jin walk down to where there aren't many swimmers and more rocks, casting out their lines. Glimmering when they catch the light properly. Leures hurdling through the air to land with a plop.

The hem of Namjoon's shirt is just turning wet when he tells you. "You know, the human body and the sea have roughly the same salinity."

You don’t feel like that strong of a swimmer, at least not like Jungkook who cuts through the waves like it’s nothing. Like he's a part of the ocean, salinity or nothing. Namjoon is close behind, Hobi too, back to the waves, the red of his hair catching the sunlight. Tae comes in but goes back to the shore just as fast. Tossing her wet dark hair over her shoulder, ringing it out. And you know she’s probably going to want to do a hair mask later.  Jimin stands on the shore, watching you, waiting for Tae.

the sea foam glitters in the sun bobbing and tumbling, lost to the waves. A cold wave of water crashes against Namjoon’s back as he and Hobi lead you to deeper water until your feet just barely brush the bottom.

“Just kick pup. I've got you." You breathe, letting the water wash over you, ducking and closing your eyes, bracing yourself for it as it hits you. But Namjoon holds onto you so that when you rise up, you're still right next to him.

Something light and fast, silvery in the water slithers past you and you jump, clinging to him.

"Joonie! Joonie! Something slimy hit me! Namjoon!"

You cling to his shoulders and he laughs. His strong hand splays against your back. "It's just a fish!" Hobi calls.

"A fish! Where?" Jungkook dives, looking around under the water. Where did he even get goggles? You cling to Namjoon's front, his body warm in the cold water. "Do you wanna get out?" He asks, dimples curved.

"Yeah, just let me dunk." Namjoon holds onto you as you go under, keeping you steady. For a moment all you can feel is the pull of the ocean, the way that the tide is shifting, pulling you out to sea too. Namjoon's hands remain on your arm.

When you rise up there are fingers against your cheeks wiping away the water before it has a chance to get in your eyes. It's Hobi, holding you as you bob. You're so much shorter than them. They get to stand just before the break whereas you have to tread water.

They help you time it right but you manage to avoid getting tumbled by the next crashing wave and when you turn your back to the ocean, you spot them there.

Jimin and Tae stand by the edge of the ocean a good 20 feet from your umbrella. The roar of the waves is so loud that you can’t hear exactly what they’re saying. But you can see Tae's mouth move, the upset lilt to her smile that falters. The way Jimin’s lips are turned down as he says what he wants to say. Standing close the way that lovers do.

He says something then entwines their hands tentatively, like he’s not sure he should. His shoulders are already turning freckly under the sun, the same as Tae's. Like little bits of summer trapped there against their skin.

They have new freckles, you have new stretch marks, and Namjoon has new grey hairs. Your mouth turns down into a frown the longer you watch them.

You watch Jimin reach up and wipe at tae's cheek, watch it as he says something that makes her shoulders shake, that makes him pull her tight against his front.

Your white shirt speckled with sand. Still damp from the ocean water as you splash through the waves to get to them. Tae smiles at you before you get there, eyes glassy. She doesn't do anything to hide the fact that she's been crying just a little as you effortlessly fold yourself into her side Jimin's arm trapped under your ribs.

You watch her smile falter. She hasn't been crying too much, just a tear or two, And she leans down to peck your forehead. Her skin is hot to the touch. Warm.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, quiet and know, it's somewhat of a lie. Jimin looks from you to her, and you sense some special small conversation going on like whatever they were talking about before you came over has been touched on just by you being there.

Tae looks down at you, biting her lip. “Are you mad at me?”

“What? No. Why?” Your hands go hard on her waist easily, because you hardly come up to Tae's sternum. You happen to know that she likes it when you grab her waist, but something that usually makes her squirm in a good way right now has no effect.

Maybe you respond too quick for her, because Tae looks at you under her lashes. “For this morning, did you-" did you not want it, did I misinterpret? Did I give you attention that you did not want? Would you tell me if I was loving you wrong?

Jimin squeezes her shoulder and you watch Tae brace herself for what you might say, “Tae,” you smile up at her, blushing just thinking about it, scent sweeting as you remember this morning. You can tell that both of them can smell it by the way that they straighten up and adjust their stance. Alphas.

"Tae I would have told you- I’m not- I’m not like that.” Anymore you don’t say.

Her dark hair is curling against her cheek, all of her salty and soggy. Tae looks like just wearing her bikini is making her ache. Like just standing here next to you is hurting. She sighs, Jimin loops his arms around her waist with you. His voice is deep and rough. “Tell her, you know she makes it better.” He mumbles the words against her shoulder.

“Minnie and I were talking about me getting a boob job. Since my boobs aren’t growing anymore, I've been at the max dose on my estrogen for like 3 months and there's still been no change."

You perk up a little at that, eyes bright. “Oh? That’s awesome, 10/10 should, totally agree.”

But the words don't soothe Tae, if anything, her shoulders just get closer to her ears as she hunches them making herself look and feel small. “But it’s expensive and it's like- not a necessary surgery like- it’s extra? Right? I can wear a push-up bra and inserts it’s not like-”

“Tae” you cut her off, and you can tell really this is what’s been bothering her. “Do you want it?” Tae looks down at you.

“Yes.”

“Would it make you feel better? Would it make you feel more girl?”

“Yes.”

You wipe away the wetness on her lash line with a thumb. “Then it’s not too much. What you need is never too much.”

"You wouldn't be like, nervous if I did?" You can tell that nervous isn't what she means.

"Maybe for your health but-" This isn't really helping, Tae is just getting more frustrated, her words failing her such a rare thing. You sigh, taking her hand in yours and you sense a little that none of this, none of Tae's anxiousness is about your approval. Not really.

She reaches down and fusses with her bikini and Jimin looks like he wants to say something. "What's got you so worried? Tae, what's wrong?"

Tae looks up at you and then back down. “But, I’m being so not a girls girl."

"Don't care, tell me."

"But are you sure?"

"Tae"

"Fuck pup, you look so good in yours and I just look- I feel gross. I feel all wrong and I look at you and sometimes it just- comparing myself to you isn't fair to you." Tae closes her eyes turning to Jimin, “Can I wear your shirt?”

Jimin has it off before she’s even really finished her sentence. His miles and miles of skin and muscles are even more alluring under the sun. His hair shimmers like it’s burnished gold underneath it too. Jimin is always sort of golden. He's always sort of stunning.

"I don't like feeling jealous of you. It doesn't feel good, it doesn't feel right. I’ve been mad at myself all morning for it" she tells you. And it sort of makes you want to laugh but in a good way.

“Tae, I’m jealous of you all the time.”

She looks up sharply, “really?”

“Yeah like, whenever you put your hair in rollers and you do the back perfect on the first try, or when you string words together or when you get out of bed and you put on your dresses and makeup like it’s nothing. I'm jealous of how much you want it. You make being a girl look effortless when it's given me nothing but trouble. And then I wander out of the nest room and I look like Adam Sandler half the time and you guys do a good job of pretending I look cute instead of like a gremlin.”

“You do look cute. You're a cute little gremlin.” Jimin says.

“You look like your sweaters are swallowing you.” Her tone is scandalized. Like she can't even believe you're saying that about yourself.

Jimin nods, “You just like being comfy like me. I like it when you're comfy especially when you wear Joonie’s worn clothing and it's like-” Jimin shivers happily and you laugh.

"That was like- so autistic of you Minnie."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I like it when you say how you’re feeling that way I know you’re not having grumpy alpha time.”

“You don’t have to call it that.”

“Well, I could go with ‘Jimin looks so overstimulated he looks like he’s gonna punch someone’ time but 'grumpy alpha time' sounds cuter.” Jimin is looking awfully red, and you suspect it has nothing to do with a potential sunburn.

Tae shakes her head, still sort of angry with herself, This might be the closest you've ever gotten to a fight. “It’s not the same, it’s not the same as me being jealous of your body and wishing it was mine.”

“Isn’t it? I’m jealous of the rest of the pack, even the boy stuff sometimes, like- You want boobs but half the time I’m just wondering if my life would have been easier if I was born a boy omega like Jungkook. It’s not the same as you, because it’s not a gender thing but a safety thing. But I’m jealous of him too, you know I can’t even run one single mile and he goes like 5 every morning and he always has energy.”

Jimin snorts, “Everyone’s a little bit jealous of Jungkook.”

“And Jin,” Tae adds, casting a glance over to where they’re both standing, both looking absurdly model esc. They’re both unfairly pretty even for omegas. You always feel a little too grubby if you think about it too hard, but you’re getting over it. In the same way, Tae will eventually get over this too. Namjoon was right earlier when he said that healing takes time, it's going to take Tae a while to heal from being born in the wrong body.

“My point is, does my feeling jealous over it mean I love Jungkook any less? Does that mean I hate him at all?”

“No, you love Jungkook.”

You hold your hand up, splaying, letting the silence pause and the realization dawn on her. “Then why does you wanting my boobs mean you have to feel guilty about it?” Her expression slowly crumples, and she goes from looking nervous to feeling guilty.

she's quiet for a few breathes, and when it's clear to you she's not going to say anything, you fess up.

“I ate the cherry off your ice cream earlier just so you know. I don't feel guilty about it at all and I will do it again, just fyi.”

A laugh forces its way out of Jimin's mouth, and even Tae can't resist a smile and a roll of her eyes.

Obsession and infatuation. Jealousy and love. It’s always been a bit of a tangle with you three. With you, Jimin, and Tae.

Some omegas that are a little too young- probably still in high school glance in Jimin's direction. You do not pull him closer, just pout. But Jimin only has eyes for Tae, and the way his eyes flicker down to yours tells you there’s nothing to fear.

“Oh, we know.” Jimin grins, “I think the only one who was upset about it was Kookie.”

Jungkook bounds over as if summoned by his name, looking gorgeous shaggy-haired, muscled arms rippling. “What are you guys talking about?”

“How jealous we are of you,” you say before Jimin or tae have the chance to. Tae blanches a little like she expects jungkook to be upset but Koo just shrugs.

“Big wop." He tugs on the hem of Joonie’s shirt. Almost pulling you off balance. "I wanna go body surfing again but Hyung’s say I can’t go alone- come with me?” He wraps his arms around your shoulders, dragging the last syllable and batting his eyes. It's too hard to say no to him.

You glance at Tae one final time and she sighs at you. Nods. “I’ll be alright. I just need to think more."

Bodysurfing turns out to be the most fun you've had in months, weeks, years maybe. Jungkook shows you how to do it. One second you feel like you're going to be tumbled in the wave and the next you're hurtling not through the ocean but over it. sliding across the water all the way from where they crash to the shore. Giggling and bubbling in the salt water. hair hanging lank over your face all messy.

“Did you see me!? i was going so fast!” You cry happily, picking yourself up off the wet sand, you'll probably have sand in unmentionable places later but you don't care. Yoongi is standing on his own.

Jin has disappeared somewhere no longer yoongi's shadow. both of their poles sit tip up in the sand. You hardly wait for him to respond before you're back in the water. Dashing back to where the waves are breaking.

“I did but! Be careful!”

The rest of the day passes like that. You walk down the beach with Hobi and find handfuls and handfuls of sea glass. You suntan with Tae (it's more just lounging) and ask Namjoon to read you snippets of his book while Hobi and Jungkook play volleyball. You go to the tide pools after, because Joonie wants to look for crabs.

It doesn't end all that well. It ends with your bloody finger, a fat seagull who is amazingly adept at snatching crabs out of thin air with a full belly thanks to you.

You swear you didn't mean to fling it, it just surprised you. You tell Namjoon as much as he sniffles and wraps a band-aid around your finger. Pierced through by a crab claw (it's nothing more than a paper cut). "I didn't mean to kill it, promise it just startled me."

The rest of the pack contains their snickers. And Namjoon's sniffles reignite. "It's fine, it's okay, it was a big crab anyway probably at the end of it's lifespan." 

Jin disappears, but when he comes back, he's toting several pizza boxes and a liter of soda. Jungkook shows you how to feed your crusts to the seagulls without them biting your fingers. And Jin also brings back a big big bowl of maraschino cherries from the same ice cream parlor as earlier. Red and bright like mini suns.

"I had a feeling you might want more." he teases, but you don't respond with anything more than "I do!"

Jin makes everyone grab one first, but after, he lets you have the rest.

~-~

At home, Tae gently lifts Namjoon's shirt over your head, the house is so noisy- as it often is whenever the whole pack is moving about, in the kitchen Jin and Yoongi are fixing dinner, still in their own perfect little bubble. Two fish already filleted in the sink.

Jungkook is half slumped against the wall, already in the shower. Turning wetter and wetter under the spray, groaning low, “god I love the sting when hot water hits my sunburn.” jimin pinches at that sunburn. there's alot of that going on, pinching.

“You’re such a fucking masochist.”

“Shut up”, he says with a smile. “I've never spanked you before.” He licks his lips, “soon.”

Tae huffs and pulls herself over to him, sudzing up his hair. Jungkook is the only one truly nude. Tae is still wearing her bottoms and so is minnie. You linger. Still in your bikini, a little resistant to getting wet again but working up to it. Jungkook goes to give her tan lines a pinch and you watch her brace herself.

You grab his hands before he has the option too. Your shower with them isn't sexual. Not this one. Not when you're all so sun tired from the day you had at the beach. You're gonna sleep so well later, your whole body aches from body surfing and you have a scrape on your hip that namjoon had frowned at earlier but you don't even care you had so much fun today.

your hands tangle with Jungkook's, "Be careful with her, she's delicate."

"Why? What's going on?" he glances from you to her.

“Tae wants to get a boob job and She's feeling sensitive about her body today,” Tae says nothing, looking from you to Jungkook, measuring his response.

"Oh? Sweet. thanks for letting me know." Tae makes an affronted noise in her throat.

You talk. Back and forth about it. “Are you sure you don’t just like- want it for us? Cuz dang I love boobs-" It’s a fair question, even if it does come off wrong. tae doesn't take it personally, shaking her head.

"It's not like that, i'm just tired of waking up in the morning and not having them, i just- i want to be done with the dysphoria. it's such a pain feeling like this all the time, but what if i like- don't like them? what if thats not going to fix it? and boob jobs are like- so expensive too." Jimin hardly responds with more than a hum. He's been a little bit less verbal than usual since you got home- but no one comments on it, no one prods him to speak.

Namjoon steps into the bathroom, hips swiveling. It's absurdly attractive- the way that Namjoon moves in his body. Leaning down to take off his bathing suit, he's got sand in them, but you don't mind because you also have sand in your bottoms too.

“82 percent of women express satisfaction with their boob job. I looked it up.”

Tae looks surprised then stricken, “you did?”

“Yeah, I wanted to know in case you ever asked for it.” Tae goes quiet, looking at Namjoon over your shoulder. You can feel the string of your bikini digging into your skin. The slight chub under your arms and around your middle. The place where you go soft. You reach behind your back, undoing it. jimin beats you too it, pulling at the string.

"i've got it."

“Oh Joonie- you’ve got tan lines.” He almost trips when he looks up and sees you topless, actually does stumble. He does have tan lines, rimming his hips, cutting across his hip bones. Tae giggles and traces along them. (If Namjoon's cock jumps a little at the touch, no one hassles him for it, you're all too sun tired for sex).

"Are you asking for it? A boob job? Is that something you want?"

"Yes."

“Oh!” Namjoon's eyebrows shoot up, and he glances from her face down to her chest, and then your face down to yours. Going red from ear to ear like he's imagining it. Namjoon scratches at the back of his head, you can hear the sand flop onto the tile floor. Tae takes your bikini and hangs it over the glass door where it drips. Namjoon clears his throat and Tae looks at him.

“Do you want me to make you an appointment on the same day as the pups?"

“What? Are you planning on getting a boob job too?” Tae cups your chest in her hands, and it’s not necessarily sexual, not even when you wrap your arms around her neck. and tug her close enough that your chests squish together.

“No, not that just-” You peck her lips, and she’s already starting to smell better.

“Just the scars, I want them gone. I got all in my head about it and Joonie helped me earlier.”

“Really?” Tae says, glancing from Namjoon to Jimin to Jungkook to you. the boys look a little dazed, a little love-struck as you reach for her bikini straps and paw at them. Namjoon takes it when you hand it to him and hangs it over the glass next to yours. You like it when it's like this, your warm body pressed to her body.

“Yeah- I got all in my head about it too.”

“Our boys are kind of good at fixing that, aren’t they?” You giggle and start to suds her up. Namjoon and Jimin grumble at the teasing, but join in.

~-~

Everything moves fairly quickly for Tae.

Maybe it only happens so fast because having a doctor for a pack alpha makes shit get done, or because Namjoon and Jin have sort of been planning for this for the last few months. It's been in their back pocket and they've been making measurements and taking down names of good doctors since just after Tae came out.

They’re funny like that. Always planning how to make sure the pack has everything they need. Everything that they could possibly want.

It's like that with your scars too.

The pack all insist on coming for her consultation. The room is full, Jungkook has to sit on Yoongi's lap because there isn't a seat for him. You and Tae are knit close together and you stubbornly refuse to let go of her hand with Jimin on the other side.

It had gone well, well enough that Tae had looked up at the doctor, a kind omegan woman in her 50s. All ready with pre-release forms and the final quote. She comes highly recommended, Namjoon even looked over her case files and gave her his stamp of approval.

She specializes in reconstructive surgery, and for some reason, Tae likes that. She likes the idea that she's not adding but restoring her body to what it should be. What it should have been in the first place.

(Tae doesn't believe in God, not anymore. But a small voice whispers in her head about it. About divinity and mistakes. People say God doesn't make mistakes, but if we are made in God's image, then God must also have an awkward phase. She must also make her mistakes; like cancer in children and what happened to you. Like Jungkook's seizures and women like Tae. It's okay to revise a little. To scribble out and rewrite the lines.)

“You mean I don’t have to like, prove it?”

The pack had gone still at the question, scents anxious and stressed, your hand on hers tighter. Readying yourself to whisk her out of here if the answer isn't to your standards.

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Just getting here is enough. And besides, I believe you.”

I believe you. It’s strange how 3 words can make you feel so much. Can have such an effect on you. There is a lump in Tae's throat just thinking about it. It's on repeat in her head over and over again, I believe you, I believe you, I believe you. In this moment I exist, in this moment I am believed.

it's silly, because the pack has always believed Tae. she's had proof of that belief in the little things like the omega's putting more pink in the nest and how Yoongi made tae a whole dressing room, and the new pink plates in the kitchen. Your endless trying with her, even when you were too tired to try with everything else. Everything in the house is pink because it's Tae's favorite color. Everything is pink because it makes her happy.

But it feels different to hear it from someone new. Tae doesn’t have to talk about the dysphoria if she doesn’t want to to this doctor. She doesn't have to talk about it at all. About passing and expectations.

She only talks about it with you, only with your heads close under a big sheet. A pillow fort just for two. The light of mid-morning, or the Christmas lights above blocked out. Counting down the days with lipstick in the corner of the vanity mirror. 21 days. 17. 11.

9 days to go for her, and only 2 days to go for you.

There has been a new addition to your vanity too. Pretty delicate packages. Rose-scented tissue paper and golden ribbons, Chanel and Versace and even something called la Perla that you are incredibly unfamiliar with.

Tae always blushes and pushes them into the back of her closet, but not before taking them out of their packages.

The lingerie is Pastel pink, Deep purple, buttery orange, delicate white lace, something almost bridal. Every single color of the rainbow and then some. She's gotten one set every day since the beach day, she's pretty sure Jimin ordered the first one on the drive home.

“Jiminie- you don’t have to spend all of your money on me, and I don't even know what size I'm going to be yet. I know you don’t make as much now, it’s alright, I don’t need all of this." You’d simply clicked your tongue and leveled Tae with a look that was not to be debated or questioned.

“He’s not spending all of his money; he’s spending all of my money. And a bit of Namjoon’s. and Yoongi actually got you that one, not Jimin. I helped him pick it out. ” Yoongi's choice is so feminine it almost makes Tae cry. Pink ribbons and yellow ruffles. Matching garters and buttery soft stockings.

You've never minded being frivolous if it means making Tae happy, making Tae happy is a priceless expense. Paying for her top surgery had been a no-brainer, not something you even had to think twice about or discuss with Yoongi in any overt terms. Like the expenses for the house that come out of the account that you and Yoongi share, the account that receives the dividends from your stocks.

Huh, stocks. You never thought you'd have those.

By halfway through the month, you’re sitting in the upstairs dressing room with Namjoon, Hobi, Jimin, Jungkook, and Yoongi draped across each other and the settee in the corner by the window and the door that leads to the deck outside.

There's so much weight on the settee that the legs creek. A very large tray with Jelly silicone implants sit on the vanity. They're only samples. Tae has to return them after she decides. 

Tae is having trouble choosing. Naturally- the pack put in their two cents. It's easy to be casual about it, to talk about C cups and D cups and even double D cups.

But what started out as trying to help her decide exactly which tits to get has turned into everyone getting drunk and dumb. Has turned into the boys trying on those bras and putting the implants inside. The general ridiculousness in the room might have something to do with the 5 (yes 5) bottles of fancier-than-normal champagne discarded and empty around the room.

Namjoon puts a stop to it when Jungkook throws the largest one and hits Hobi square in the stomach. The resounding 'thwap' is almost loud enough that it makes you flinch.

“Wait, are these the ones that are modeled after yours?” Jungkook asks, Yoongi says something into your ear that makes you flush and giggle, and when Hobi tries to come close onto the settee you put your socked foot against his chest and push.

Hobi catches your ankle and fiddles with your sock, thigh high, white, knit. sliding his hand up your calf and tickling under your knee. "It's hard to believe they're like that big"

"Imagine how I feel Jungkook, it feels like carrying around mellons not lemons."

Jungkook scoots to the edge of the settee, "let me try them on." It’s stupid and you feel like a bunch of boys playing with water balloons but Tae doesn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, she's more comfortable when you're goofy about it. You're just deciding what tit's she's going to have for the rest of her life, no big deal. It's no big deal at all.

Tae is sort of freaking out about it, which is why you're drinking and trying to get her to lighten up. Emphasis on trying.

Tae had asked for implants that would give her a similar side profile and cleavage to yours. But truthfully, after she tried them on… she's going to go with something just ever so slightly smaller and more conical.

You honestly didn’t know there were so many different types of implants or so many different shapes and feels. But this choice matters. She’ll only choose this once so she wants to make the right choice.

The ones your size simply hadn’t looked right when it came to her shoulders- made her look too wide up top.

There's one pair, your pick, that looks a little bit more perky than the ones she initially wanted to go with. And while you understand wanting a natural result…

The horny side of you is sort of winning out. But you are 4 glasses of champagne deep, your judgment is a little impaired.

“We can do back exercises! So that you won’t get rounded shoulders!” Jungkook had excitedly commented when Tae had confessed she was just a little bit worried about how much the ones modeled after yours might weigh on her back.

By midnight, the champagne is gone and Seokjin is mostly asleep. Asleep enough that Jimin’s attention is divided. Earlier there was a moment, Tae wearing them and the lingerie, standing between Jimin’s legs, his arms around her waist, eye level with the implants shoved into one of those bra’s. “Go on tell me they’re too big.”

Jimin had hummed, looking down at them then up at Tae, “will they make you happy?”

“Yes but-”

“Tae, will they make you happy? Yes or no?”

Shifting from foot to foot, eyes flicking down to them, then to the mirror. “Yes but-“

“No buts” he’d said, which had led to you and Jungkook doing a chorus of “butts butts butts!” Sing a song and ridiculous.

Namjoon did try and twerk. Emphasis on try.

“Should we take a vote?”

“It feels like we should take a vote.”

“Okay, but the pup gets two because she actually knows what it’s like to have big boobs.”

You do, your votes written out on scraps of that rose-scented tissue paper. “Jungkook- don’t you dare put down the big ones.”

“But then they’ll match-”

It feels good to do it this way. To help her make a choice that would probably make Tae's head spin, cry, and melt down over choosing the right one. She got close to having a melt down earlier but It's all goofy and silly and light like this. Maybe even the hard things are easy if you're doing them with the right people.

Tomorrow they’ll order the implants, and on Friday Tae will have to get up very very early. She will not eat breakfast, will be driven to the hospital by Jin and Namjoon, and Jimin. You’ll tag along for moral support with Yoongi in a separate car and Hobi and Jungkook will follow later because there’s no real reason why she’ll need all of you there.

The surgery will take Tae around 3 hours, by mid-day she’ll be in post-op and by evening she’ll be home. You get the ground floor bedroom all set up because Tae will be too dizzy to manage the stairs. A bright pink nest with a minimal border so that Tae can get in and out without straining her abdominal muscles too much.

You know to expect bruising, to expect her to be out of it from the anesthesia first and then the drugs. Namjoon will be the only one to sleep in the nest with Tae, although Jin won’t be far and Jimin will eventually decide to sleep on the floor around midnight. Just to make sure she doesn't have to get up for anything.

You'll be buzzing up and down the steps several times through the night to check on Tae, everyone else will too. You, Yoongi, and Jungkook are going to go to the store tomorrow to get some recovery foods to help her heal faster.

You put your slips of paper, your votes into the largest bra that Jimin's gifted Tae. You get your two votes, and everyone else gets one. Yoongi cranes his neck to see what you're writing downand you shove at his shoulder playfully.

"No peaking!”

~-~

The pleather gurney is cold beneath your knees as you gently lift yourself onto it, trying not to be nervous. Trying not to be afraid as you lie on your stomach. A breeze makes you shiver through the open back of your hospital gown, bare underneath.

You're cold everywhere, although the numbing cream has already taken effect, carefully smeared over the sensitive scared skin of your lower back by Yoongi. As gentle as ever, rough fingertips rub over skin that will burn in just a few minutes.

He wears stupid small glasses to the side now, designed to block out the light from the laser that will scrape away your scar tissue. He wears lemon yellow ones whereas Jin wears black, and to your side, Namjoon wears red ones- all to protect them as they watch over you. You'd had a good moment of laughter earlier when you'd realized just how ridiculous it made them all look. But any levity in the situation has dissipated now.

Now, you're just nervous.

“It will probably take more than one session to see the results you want, but complete and total removal is definitely possible if you're good with your aftercare.”

The doctor had warned you before you’d started, "she will be. We'll make sure of it" Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi had all promised. And you believe them, there is scar cream and a special oil and even a compression vest for later, similar to the one that Tae will wear for her surgery in 4 days' time.

You’ve spent sleepless night after sleepless night talking through it with Namjoon, with Yoongi, with Jin. They’ve all been supportive. It’s all happened relatively quickly- same as Tae's surgery. The second that you’d given Namjoon and Jin the all-clear that you wanted to go through with the plastic surgery to reduce the appearance of the scar on your back they’d expedited the process and gotten you in contact with a world-renowned plastic surgeon who works at Namjoon’s hospital.

He's not the same plastic surgeon working on Tae, no- this one is a specialist in scars, in burns, in places that have been kissed by pain in a way that no skin should ever be. You think he might understand it. The way that you tremble when you get onto the gurney. He's seen the scars, had seen them during the consultation. He had asked very very politely and as gently as possible Whether they were 'situational' wounds or self-inflicted. 

"I've been married- Widowed actually." Had been your only reply.

The doctor hadn't looked at your face, gloved fingers testing the skin around the scar to see how much it stretched. You felt a little weird about having your back end bare to another man, but with Namjoon there and Yoongi and Hobi too, it had felt a lot less nerve-wracking. You can tell from the flex of his jaw that Yoongi is about to step in when the doctor says one word. after a moment. After he's pieced together what you're implying.

"Good."

Good. This is a good thing; this is a thing that you want to do. The wrath might never leave you; you might never stop being angry about what was done to you. But you can at least keep it from your body and let the pain become a memory and not an imprint. You will not let your body become a place of pain again. All scars are temporary, you're just expediting the process.

Heal now, heal later, or heal never.

You’d woken up this morning with Hobi and Jungkook blanketing you on either side, Tae's long-manicured fingers scratching at your scalp. Stomach uncomfortably empty for a change because they’d told you to fast before your procedure. Bot that you’ll need to go under general anesthesia like Tae. But sometimes laser therapy can make people get sick.

You’d woken to the sound of them taking through it. Something like “I’m going to get her a cake anyway.”

“You should make her one Hobi, you know she likes it when things are homemade."

The hum of your best friend against your front had felt like the ripple of a river. Hobi's deep voice- the one that only comes out after he’s been in deep sleep for a while is always so soothing. “I guess I made you that boob cake with her didn’t I huh-"

They say something to each other, softer, laughter petering off. trying to be quiet and let you sleep but sort of failing. The sound of slow kissing joins the coo of mourning doves and Jungkook feeding Noodle downstairs. He's come back from his run early to make sure he can see you off.

“We can both- yeah?”

You’d been happy to doze until Yoongi’s hand had joined Tae's on your cheek, slowly picking you up off of Hobi's shoulder. Tucking your messy hair away from your face.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, but it’s time.”

You’d fussed only a little. Only the pre-requisite amount to get a bit of babying (a necessary medicine, as important as the numbing cream) before allowing Tae and Yoongi to pull you out of the nest. putting on loose clothing that can easily be taken off and put back on.

You wanted to get this done before Tae and her top surgery and you want to meet the new version of her with the new version of you. It feels good that both of you are going through this change, this healing together.

Next week. Next week Tae will have boobs, next week she'll look whole and beautiful and so so pretty. She'll look exactly as she wants to look and you can hardly wait to see. To meet that version of her as the new version of you.

You still haven’t decided if there are any other scars on your body that you’d like to get rid of. Maybe the one under your chin- that's the only one that's so visible or as the one on your lower back. Or maybe the ones on the inside of your thighs. Those are so faint, too faint to matter. Too faint to hurt in a way that’s not purely psychological. Not like your back that you can feel when you turn wrong.

Your heart is in your throat as Namjoon helps you onto the gurney, wearing surgical gloves. The doctor behind him already has black-out goggles on his head. There is a pair that Namjoon hands you for you to wear. Jin and Yoongi stand back, wedding rings catching the light. Jimin is a faint presence outside the door, a shadow looming, protective instead of threatening.

“It’s going to smell pretty horrible, but the lidocaine should block most of the pain."

Namjoon does the honors of unlooping the back of your surgical gown and revealing your scars for the last time.

Worthless. But not for long. Worthless once, but not anymore.

You nod, “Okay.” You hear the clatter of the plastic machine against each the floor. The roll of the wheels on the linoleum as they wheel the machine over to you. Two technicians adjust it and the doctor clicks away at the computer before he grabs the wand and fiddles with the settings.

“The first pulse is going to come in just a second. I'll count down to three.  Are you ready?” You nod and try to relax, untensing your muscles and your body.

This pain, you can handle. This pain, you welcome.

Namjoon’s hold on your hand tightens, the doctor counts, and the light flashes.

~-~

Tae will also have scars. But not like yours. Not like stitches. They'll be like growing pains and stretch marks. Like her heart making room.

The surgeon has done a good job, but when Namjoon unwraps her gauze. You see the bloody stitches and whine. 50 of them under the edge of her generous curve, small nipples also taped over still. There's a fair amount of swelling- making them look larger but-

Yoongi's hands slip on the mirror as he holds it up for Tae, holding it at a tilt so that Tae can see. It's the next morning after her surgery, and you blink as you look at them. behind you, hobi bites on one nuckle.

“Oh my god.”

Jimin's face is flaming. He looks at the ceeling. "That bad?" tae slurs, head tipping limply to one side, her eyelashes fluttering, "Why are you all looking at me like that? How are my lemons?"

"Delicious." you say, at the same moment Jimin says, "breathtaking."

"I don't want anyone to juice them, they're mine, my lemons" tae pouts. Hobi holds his mouth trying not to laugh as yoongi chuckles. jin whipes her hair back from her sweaty forhead.

"Oh my god you are so high."

“No one can touch them.” Namjoon warns, looking at everyone in warning. "Promise me. No pawing. You cannot touch them when you're not sterile."

You let out an upset whine, “Joonie, just a kiss” Tae smiles from the bed, gently, tired. She's barely awake. It's the same bed that you and Yoongi used to share, this used to be your bedroom before you moved upstairs.

“Pup, It's non-negotiable” You pull up the straps on her billowing night dress and cuddle up next to her, sniffling and peaking at them while he wipes them down gently with gauze. Tae can't feel anything through the painkillers, but Namjoon's wipe comes away rusty and red.

You rest your head against her shoulder where bruises spread like ink as Namjoon works to clean them and her. The smell of blood doesn't bother you. You tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear and Tae murmurs quietly- eyes still closed that she could use some skincare.

Doing it for her is a reverent act, rubbing it across her cheek the bridge of her nose. When she remembers to open her eyes, she smiles dopily.

“Drugs are so so goooooood.” the pack laughs, yours jiggles the bed and Hobi shakes his head from the doorway. Tae furrows her eyebrows at Jimin.

"You're so pretty."

"I know, you were saying that in the car." Jimin is ever patient with her.

"Do you wanna like, be my boyfriend or something? I feel like we should kiss."

"Tae, we've been dating for twelve years."

"Oh! nice, I should tell Jimin."

"I am Jimin."

"No you're not. Your name's noodle cuz you're little." Jimin sighs trying to keep his smile at bay.

jin kicks hobi and jungkook out of the room for laughing too loudly and you shuffle closer to her. barely keeping your laughter hidden.

You kiss her cheek, the apple of it where her skin goes round and full and pink. “I’m sure the drugs feel amazing.” Your voice goes husky as you look at her, and when her hand tangles with yours. You notice that her nails have gone chipped. you'll fix that for her later.

Tae flutters in and out of consciousness for the first-day post-op. By noon- most of the good drugs have worn off. Movement means pain, but there is always someone there to help her move, change her clothes, or help her to the bathroom (even if that part is significantly unglamorous). Noodle rests in the crook of her knee, purring loudly.

There is cool water directed to her lips, guiding her to sip, then a soft kiss. When she asks for a pen and paper the pack calembour gives it to her. To brush her hair, to pat her skin dry, to praise her, and tell her how well she did. Apparently, she was a stellar patient. She's not sure why Namjoon says it like that. Like it took more energy to just lie there than actually doing the surgery but-

Tae's hand moves sloppy, and her words are half unintelligible but this is what she writes on the paper:

Cage or no cage. We are both birds. Wingless or not. Me a chicken, you a penguin looking at the sky no longer flightless when we close our eyes.

Jimin’s scent blooms close, happy and vanilla goodness. The smell of reading old books at nighttime is comforting and familiar. Tae's heart beats a little faster. Namjoon huffs with his stethoscope and listens some more- laughing lightly when Tae opens her eyes and looks up at him, heart pumping quicker. He zips up her compression vest, to help with the swelling and buttons up her shirt, one of Yoongi's warm flannels. The same one that the pack trades back and forth.

She closes her eyes and you take the notebook and pencil from her before it can clatter onto the floor. Jimin kisses one eyelid and then the other. Murmuring something softly to you at her elbow. Kissing you too- judging from the way that the bed dips as he leans over. The light is turned low and honey.

Tae doesn’t really feel it, the weight or the pain of the incisions or anything really, just a bit of nausea when Namjoon asks and she thinks about it. She turns down the crackers and the toast that Jin offers.

She breathes in, feeling her body move with air. There is no weight to them, the lump of her chest. Compressed close to her body by a surgical vest to minimize inflammation. Honestly, she feels a little lighter if anything. Something like a string poised to snap that is no longer wound around her ribcage and aching heart. No longer suffocating.

She hasn’t even seen them yet; she shouldn’t be able to feel a difference already. But somehow when she closes her eyes, she can tell it’s different. That she’s different. A good sort of change.

It’s a slow healing process, Tae can’t get up or get out of bed for a few days, can do little more but sleep and eat and listen to Namjoon read her favorite books to her in his deep voice when she gets too dizzy to read on her own. Watching bad television and every single Studio Ghibli movie that ever did exist.

She can’t even do so much as put on her own shirts- although the pack is there to help with literally all of it. Buttoning a shirt over her fresh bandages, Jin kisses up her midline the same way she seen him do to you. Namjoon cleans her drains and Tae asks for perfume for once. Her Rosey cinnamon scent has stayed foggy with sickness and stress. Almost dewy damp.

You understand, the skin on your lower back is pealing and smells so ewey. You still can't sleep on your back.

It takes her 3 days before she can lift her arms above her head without pulling her stitches and manages to convince Namjoon and Jimin that she’s well enough to eat dinner like normal at the dining room table.

She sits with you on the outdoor furniture in the morning and eats watermelon. There’s only so much editing and staying yes to the dress that she can handle. The others herd her back to bed any time she looks the least bit uncomfortable or in pain.

Everyone is good, everyone is perfectly well-behaved, you don’t get handsy you don’t even paw at her to look when Namjoon undoes the compression vest. Although there is a moment when Namjoon stands back with the surgical gloves and blushes from his collar bones to his ear. "You need to wear this for the next three weeks, you can only take it off when you shower okay? And be gentle, the skin is so tender."

By day five she can dress herself, and she can't sleep any longer that to 5am when jungkook starts moving around for his walk, rousing you gently. She’s going stir crazy enough that you’re very very happy to take her with you on your morning walk.

Going extra extra slow. By the time you’re home the rest of the pack is in a bit of a tizzy trying to find her, Jimin wrenches open the door at the sound of your steps on the stairs.

Both you and Tae chagrined, Jungkook smiling a little too wide at Jimin’s generally disheveled appearance. Hair all a mess, scent acrid with panic.

“We went on a walk.”

Jimin’s eyes narrow, “where?”

“Around the block. Tae woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep.”

“You have fun?” "Yes." "Are your stitches torn?" "No" "You're not bleeding anywhere?" "No."

He wipes down his hair, behind him. Yoongi looks similarly off-kilter, buttons mismatched on his flannel. Rubbing his eyes. “Hobi's making breakfast.”

"Oh? Pancakes?"

"Boob-shaped ones!" He calls from inside.

Everyone is a little protective of Tae, a little possessive too.

By Wednesday of the next week, Namjoon goes to work and you drag Yoongi and Jin out for a little bit of shopping for nesting materials. Jimin has to go back to work too. She'll be fine on her own for a few hours. She can get dressed all right by herself. But Namjoon and Jimin have their ringers on and she's got a day's worth of snacks already pre-wrapped in the fridge.

Jimin and Tae had a moment earlier, helping her get dressed, smiling, looking up at her face and then back down, cheeks slowly going red. "hey my eyes are up here."

"I know," his fingers are gentle as they stroke down her midline. looking at them.

"They suit you, they look so nice and soft. They look so- you." Jimin's voice is rough and Tae's is too, but there are kisses and soft words.

"I'm so glad you told me, you're so brave. I'll never not be proud of you. I'm so glad you tried to be you. I'll never not be thankful that I got to meet the real version of you and got to fall in love all over again."

there's more, but i'll save that for them. Their little secret. Tae is sort of crying when Jimin's done, but he just wipes her tears away gently and lets her cry. The last of it goes away with that. The last of the tension. The dysphoria that will become a distant memory.

Tae hasn't really seen them yet. They're covered with the compression vest almost all the time. She's been sitting too much. Reading and editing and writing because she can at least use her hands. The brief glance she'd gotten at the bloody stitches had sort of freaked her out. But everyone has been so appreciative. You especially.

Hobi has another wedding to do the flowers for and Jungkook has his Wednesday kickboxing classes. The house is quiet and Noodle naps in a puddle of sunlight in the living room. The air conditioning hums and Tae is home, alone, for the first time.

She spent the morning waking up slowly, forehead kissed, waist held, but when the house gets silent, she steals away upstairs. Take the steps slowly, one at a time. going as fast as she's able. Aiming for the dressing room.

Her body is still a bit sore. A little tender, it's only been a week- and it's going to take her another week before she can really move around like she used to. But Namjoon took her stitches out at the kitchen table last night. And the slide of thread through the skin was only a little bit gross, a little bit nauseating.

The weight of her chest is welcome, but hard to get used too- she feels like she’s a little off balance as she teeters up the stairs. but she was warned about this, she knows to take it slow and adjust to her new center of gravity. Going up the stairs one at a time. patiently waiting for her body to stop hurting.

Tae steals away to the side of the room that contains your dresses and a spilling over set of drawers that hold your and Tae's lingerie collection (let's be honest, most of it belongs to Tae.)

Somehow, most of Jimin's gifts had actually been in the right size. It's soulmate magic maybe, or perhaps just good intuition that had him picking out the right cup and band size. Most of them are unlined anyways.

A lot of them are new and hers but a few of them are yours and old, your workout bras and old bralettes. If she’s not careful she still catches you wearing the same bras and underwear greying with age. The type of thing that's gone worn and brings back affectionate memories of the first time you and her ever did your makeup in the library room downstairs.

The little book box of makeup that once held her soul and kept it hidden away now sits open on the top shelf just above her head. The inside of it is filled with costume jewelry, fake pearls, and glittering Swarovski chokers.

Tae gets a stool so she can reach for it.

What Tae reaches for isn’t anything that you or Jimin have bought. It's small enough that she had almost forgotten about it (and you’ve probably forgotten about it too). But the bralette is thin and flimsy at the bottom of the book box. Made of cheap plastic fabric, white and gauzy mesh dotted with small yellow daisies. The first bra she ever bought and the only one she ever bought for herself.

It's not even really a bra, but a bralette.

Tae unzips her compression vest with shaky fingers.

Tae remembers you looking at it the first time you ever did your makeup together, the crinkle of the plastic as you touched it. A realization dawning on your face that you hadn't voiced. But you'd used 'she' pronouns for her pretty soon after that. And Tae had always know, that seeing this was the moment you realized, that was the moment it started to feel real for her too. Not just some stupid dream.

Tae puts it on quickly, hissing when she feels her sensitive new skin touched. The band digs into her skin uncomfortable, the fabric brushing over her sensitive nipples.

It will take some getting used to. She’s careful to close her eyes before she sees herself in the mirror, careful not to spoil it for herself. She wanted her real first look to be like this, alone. Just herself and her body.

It might be a little too early to wear this and yet, she keeps her eyes closed as she maneuvers herself in the direction of the floor-to-ceiling mirror over by the settee. Almost tripping over your pj's discarded on the floor as she goes. Her eyes are still closed when her fingers touch the cold glass, and she stands in front of it properly, gripping either side so hard that the gold filigree edge digs into her skin.

later tonight there will be dress up and dress down. it will feel like the most natural thing in the world and tae will realize that although they're new to her, her boobs have always felt like they were there. There will be no more dysphoria, no more clawing at her throat when she takes off her shirt or puts on a dress.

Your hands will hold around her waist as she tries on each and every one of her dresses to see how she looks in them now. The blue dress from the first day at the thrift store, the one you wore for your first date, every dress, even the ones with the puffy skirts that Jimin got for her after she came out. The ballgowns and corsets and lingerie.

Tae is going to try on all of it. You're going to do her makeup and when you're finished, both of you will be covered in kiss marks from your belly button up. It won't even be sexual it will just feel like love.

You're going to take so many photos that you'll fill up your camera roll and ask for yoongi's phone instead. They'll be half boudoir and half not. Pictures of the two of you in each and every one of those new bras and underwear, photos of tae in this pose and that pose. Kisses on her cleavage and even lower.

She's going to not be able to take her eyes off of them in the mirror but the feeling of them squishing into your front when you hug will be something else entirely. You might have a second photoshoot just for you- a gift maybe for the rest of the pack, you and Tae bare. One chest pressed to another, nothing between the two of you.

Tae will be a bit obsessed with them, will be a little bit proud of them. they'll be perfect.

She's perfect.

But that's for later. Right now, Tae takes a deep breath and opens her eyes.

~-~

Notes:

-sometimes i worry that i'm starting every chapter of bily the same way and while i know i started the letter to my dead cat this way, i hope this is the fist chapter of bily i've started with the line of summer polishing it's rusty claws. Because thats what i'm refrencing, my old cat, i miss her every day. Barely a day goes by that i don't miss her. we're planting cat nip over her grave this summer. i think hobi probably does the same when noodle dies.

-90% certain that namjoon is reading one of the Bridgerton books when they’re at the beach, I love the idea of him being like “don’t fall for it Penelope, make him work for it” when it comes to pollin you know? Like namjoon would be so cute and so so into it.

-Okay but??? I actually got emotional thinking about noodle and Hobi smelling flowers together. You’re telling me noodle went from living in a 2 x 2 cage to having his own garden and 8 humans that love him 🥺 stop I just know he’s so happy. I’ve also decided that noodle is 8 years old. I think that feels like the right age for him.-

-Not to be unintentionally soft but I think the act of putting on sunscreen for someone else might but the most drawn out act of loving there is, when jin does it he’s taking care of the packs future health, a sort of daily effort that shows the investment and that he’s invested in their health for a long time :( I personally think it’s a very soft way of loving.

-i feel like at one point in the future hobi and the m/c actually do try doing oral sex on each other but it's way way too much of a trigger for both of them- hobi especially with pussy, that he tries it once and decides he doesn't want too do it for trauma reasons and both of them are so very cool with it. especially because all of the other alpha's do eat her out fairly regularly and jungkook loves sucking cock so- one thing i like about the bily pack is that they're all so sexually active that everyone gets what they need without hose needs imposing on any of the other packmates.

-the part where hobi and the m/c are like "you're the shame of the regimine.", "what do your suprieriors do with you." is a quote from the 1996 pride and prejudice movie, in my mind i think it's one of their inside jokes with tae too! hopefully people get it.

-yoongi is so cute telling her that he got a nibble on his bait like- i can just picture him being so excited and gummy smiling at her when he sees her. i feel like yoongi might be a tiny bit unaware that she's having a bad day, but their relationship is more equal this way when he's not like- hingeing his entire self worth on weather or not she's okay. i think about them post and pre moonbyul and i think this is one of their diffrences post moonbyul

-i think that the conversation that tae and jimin where having before the m/c walked up went something like this. "i feel like this morning, she might not have wanted it but she didn't tell me." "you should ask her before you ruminate on it any more." "i know i know, it's just hard." "thats not what has you upset today though, you're blaming yourself for that for a reason." "don't tell on me," "i'm not, i just know you." "i don't look good today and it's stupid, it's stupid to be upset about it when the pup- when jungkook- it's stupid to worry about how i look when there's so much going on." "it's not stupid, not when it's you." "i feel like if i hadn't been jealous this morning, i might have noticed that she wasn't into it." "tae, you still don't know if she was even upset." or something like that.

-i know it's silly, but i absolutely love the part where the m/c tells tae she ate her cherry and she's remorseless about it. like thats so /her/ she has such a personality to her you know? i don't think she'll ever be a true reader insert.

-I did not mention namjoon's dick in the shower scene because i knew i would get side tracked if i did.

-the line of 'i believe you' is because clover told me that this last time she visited and honestly, i don't think anyone's ever believed me before. it was the first time anyone told me that they belived me. like- someone /belives/ me??? how wild is that???? i know she loves bily more than anyone and i wanted to make sure i put bits of her in this story too. i haven't told her it will be in here but i hope she reads it and knows its from her without even having to read the notes. i sorta wanted to send her this chapter of bily early because she was sick but i also! wanted it to be perfect and a good surprise <3

-this might be an unpopular opinion but i think tae looks the best in yellow.

-i helped a trans friend of mine remove their boobs in 2020 so i'm hoping that getting a boob job is a similar process/recovery time. they told us the surgery would only last 2-3 hours but we where there for 18 because of pre and post op.

-the drug section where tae is being dumb was a last minute addition- i hope people think it's funny as opposed to thinking it's stupid.

-i actually got really emotional writing that ending i hope...i hope one day being trans won't be so scary. i hope each and every trans person gets a moment like tae's a moment where they love their body and love themselves as much as they love the people around them. i hope your body loves you back. i hope you never stop trying or dreaming.