#i don’t know the language of the country i was born in

[crtter]

Why, that’s my main man Louis XVI! We all know him. You know, married Marie Antoinette, helped with the American Revolution War, lost his head during the French Revolution… Louisville in Kentucky is named after him! I like this portrait. It has him wearing his coronation robes. Very snazzy. It wasn’t painted at the time of his coronation though. He was 19 when he ascended to the throne after his grandfather, Louis XV, died from smallpox. He got a different portrait of him painted then. This is a later piece, from the 1780s, if I’m not mistaken. I think he’s in his mid-thirties here.

Anyway, his non-king name was Louis Auguste, he was born in August 23, 1754 and he has never caught a single break in his life. I mean, don’t get me wrong, in the greater scheme of things the French Revolution was a net positive for the world. Like, my country could still be a colony to this day if Napoleon hadn’t ascended to the throne and scared the king of Portugal into going hiding in Brazil. But you can’t help but feel a little sorry for the guy. Nothing ever went his way!

To start off, he was never meant to be king at all and, in his heart, he’d probably would rather have been anything else. His father was the next in the line of succession, and after him, it would be his older brother, who his family like, HEAVILY favored over him and didn’t even try to hide it. This meant he didn’t get nearly as good of an education as his brother did, getting stuck with an elderly, very conservative tutor who mostly only taught him religion and morals. But his brother would die at only nine years old (Louis was six then) from a bone infection after a bad fall from being pushed a little too hard while roughhousing with his friends. Then his father would die as well, of tuberculosis, when he was eleven, and his mother would follow a bit over a year later, having fallen into a deep depression after her husband’s death. So most of his immediate family drops dead and Louis becomes heir to the throne. Turns out he couldn’t have done so in worst circumstances: he inherited a lot of debt from his predecessors, had to deal with the repercussions of an unusually harsh winter that destroyed crops all over France and he just didn’t have a single authoritarian bone in his body.

It’s not like he was unintelligent. Much to the contrary, actually: he taught himself how to speak Italian, Spanish and English (the latter, reportedly, because he loved ships and navigation and he wanted to read Captain James Cook’s memoirs and Robinson Crusoe in the language they were originally written), had his own personal library, mastered advanced calculus and was and passionate about cartography, clockmaking and locksmithing. He was far from a tyrant or out of touch with his people either. He liked to secretly visits poor families in person and give them money that had been reserved for his own personal expenses, often took decisions that were the opposite of what was advised to him because, in his own words, “it might not be what’s best for the country but it’s what the people want and I want people to like me”, and held progressive values for a man of his time, passing or at least attempting to pass laws prohibiting the persecution of religious minorities, abolishing torture, serfdom and the death penalty.

So, why did Louis XVI die in the way he did? There were a lot of factors, of course. One of them is just because he was a symbol of the monarchy that had been plunging the country into more and more debt for the past 100 years, but a key one was that he was just awfully indecisive. It was it hard for him to make important decisions as quickly as he should and easy for him to be persuaded by other people of what he should do, which made for some pretty inconsistent, often poor results. He also hated attracting attention to himself so he refused getting statues and paintings made to celebrate his accomplishments, which made the public largely unaware of the good things he did while VERY aware of his shortcomings, real and imagined, because political cartoon artists had a field day with him and his wife. His contemporaries also thought of him as kind of uncouth and not very bright due to the fact he was shy and awkward. He was a bad public speaker, prone to going into uncomfortable silences mid-conversation and had a hard time looking people in the eye, which gave him an uncharismatic reputation. But, most importantly, Louis just… didn’t fight back. He was chronically insecure. Eager for approval. He could’ve easily thwarted the initial revolts with his personal army but he felt like raising weapons against his own people was as unforgivable as doing so against his own children. So he made a point to forbid his men from attacking the revolutionaries and to try and talk it out with them and give in to their demands, eventually even letting himself and his family to be taken into house arrest to Paris.

More things happen after that, but the gist of it is, even though Louis was technically in decent terms with the revolutionaries and on board with being stripped of all his power and becoming a constitutional monarch, even writing to his brothers to demand that they do not try anything counterrevolutionary and that he didn’t need their help, he felt like a prisoner and that his children were being mistreated. So he and Marie Antoinette decided to take a leap of faith and flee Paris to cross the Austrian border. The thing is, Louis genuinely thought that the revolutionary efforts were concentrated in Paris and that people elsewhere still liked him and would support his decision to escape. He was VERY wrong about that. They were eventually recognized and apprehended because, well. Louis’ face was literally on the money and someone eventually went “Wait a minute… don’t I know this guy from somewhere?”. The people were shocked by his betrayal and secret plotting with foreigners to escape given that he had previously seemed so cooperative. So he and his family are put in an actual prison this time, and he’s eventually tried for high treason and crimes against the state. By then he knows he’s cooked and that he’s going to be killed but he seems oddly resigned to it. I guess he just gave up.

Later on when his lawyer and former minister goes to tell him, in tears, that he has indeed, been convicted to death he just thanks him for his hard work and tells him that “We’ll meet again in a happier life!” One of the last things he said at all, on the way to the scaffold, was asking if there have been any news of the La Pérouse expedition lately. which was this version of the Captain Cook expeditions of his he had organized a few years before it all went to shit. Funny little man, he was. He was scared of cats because he got a nasty scratch on the butt from his grandfather’s cat as a child, but he dutifully took care of this very cat until the day it died after his grandfather’s passing. He liked to stealthily make his way out of windows and climb on the roofs of the palace of Versailles at night to hunt for nocturnal animals. His favorite horses were named Escargot and Desiré.

I can do this trick with some other VERY random subjects too. Someone look up “French king”, get the first picture you see out of Google Images and show it to me on this post. Don’t give me a name. Just the picture or a link to the picture. I’m going to either awe you or creep you out. No middle ground.

[ender-lune]

lies down on the floor. AGH

[cryptfile]

✶ nuclear seasons, [ soldier boy x reader ]

summary — he was friend’s with your mom. friend is a understatement cause when he appears in the middle of the night looking for revenge in your little apartment in the suburbs, you know he’s far from being nice.

warnings — +18 minors dni, smut, dead dove do not eat, we have a last name (also a mother!), kind of porn without plot? but not really cause it HAS one okay, we call it 50/50, fem!reader using she/her pronouns, p in v, masturbation ( m! receiving but blink and you miss it), dirty talk, age gap, choking, degradation, spitting (i'm sorry), fingering, mentions of injury, cancer (not you tho), tons of tension.

side notes — i’m never experiencing the post ovulation clarity lmao, that being said english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, also i’m a whore for jensen ackles, and i stand for what i like proudly. // 5k+

Nightshade is a hero.

You're proud of your mother since you were pretty young. The hero that fought against Vought to death during the time Payback was active, America’s Troublemaker that you only knew as Stella Nightshade, a blonde woman that talked with the death during her golden years.

Maybe it’s your mother the one that pushed you to fight crime, to pursue the bad guys and look out for the victims that can’t stand for themselves, so even when you don’t inherit much from Stella’s gifts, you joined the CIA as soon as you can so you can do something that matters.

You’re the best in your class, work your ass off to be taken serious, to be more than the look of disappointment you receive when people ask, once again, if you have any powers like your mother and you have to admit — In pure shame, that you didn’t born as a superhero but a baby who cried loudly when is too hungry.

But as years pass you make a name for yourself, one that even if differs from Stella’s job has the same noble reasons behind. You also realize you were too naive growing up, believing in heroes that don’t deserve to be called that way.

The country has made a mistake on making superhumans so openly, and it’s clear that got out of control now, backfiring as they got so much power it’s almost impossible to take accountant of any of them.

You’ve worked along Grace Mallory from the shadows, and even when Stella would not be so proud of you for helping get his kind out of the streets, the justice is enough to feed you and keep you warm on a cold night.

You like it that way. You know Grace has a team for it, a legal army of supe-haters as you called them, yet, you prefer to stay in the dark, not let your personal life get involved cause one slip and you can lose it all— Even when you don’t have nothing at all. You like to have an outside life from work, it’s the sane thing to have, so when the CIA Deputy Director asks you about joining the infamous Boys, you politely decline assuring the woman you’ve been more helpful from the outside.

What would Stella Nightshade would say? Now that you’ve grown older and you don’t look at her the same way you used to when you encounter her files and read about your mother. You know she has done wrong, yet with the years, you don't imagine Soldier Boy himself was going to seek for revenge first thing he does when he wakes up, his plan including your mother even when she was long time dead before he even appeared in the picture.

That night especially you let your guard down. It's been a rough couple of weeks back in work, so when the night comes you're a victim of the stress, victim of your bosses and the people that surrounded you. You pour a glass of wine for yourself, light a cigarette even when you haven't smoked in years, and turn on the TV to see something else rather than the face of Homelander in every single channel you've been tuning lately.

It's a weapon. When you leave for a warm shower and start filling the bathtub, you're not aware of what that night was really going to be for you. Oblivious as you stand naked in the middle of the bathroom, holding the glass of wine between your fingers before entering the warm current that relaxed your muscles.

It seems tension is your worst enemy, makes your muscles feel like stone as you got in the water, the cigarette that hangs from your dry lips splashing with tiny droplets of perfumed water as the silence filled the air. It's what you needed, at least ten minutes with your brain shutting off completely, the pleasure you haven't experienced in forever by being so compromised with work.

It's a much-needed break. The smoke that leaves the room by the almost-closed window, the taste of wine still lingering in your lips as you sip another taste of the crimson liquor you love. You don't happen to notice when he's breaking in your apartment, silent and deadly as you were protected by a door closed and a white curtain.

You don't happen to hear him too. The music coming our from your phone is loud enough to silence the knocks on your door at first before breaking the wood, you're too deep in the still water that smelled like roses and vanilla, to even pay attention to what was going on outside the warmth of the four walls that surrounded you.

There's vapor coming out of the water and you find comfort in closing your eyes, in letting the blow of the smoke travel through your throat before suspending itself in the air, flowing as you drank.

In your defense, you haven't been like that in ages.

It's been a long time since you last fill the tub and have a relaxing session with yourself, so it makes sense you are enjoying it a little bit too much, too much cause when the invader is making a lot of noise when stepping into your property, you still enjoy the taste of the alcohol on your lips.

The ashes fall to the ceramic floor outside the tub and you should blame the CIA to make you so tense to the point it leads you to more problems than you ever had. In the dark room of your apartment, it's Soldier Boy the one who's going through any drawer he comes across, the ones closed, the ones hidden, any slit he can find, any clue that can trace your mother back to his personal vendetta.

He's oblivious to Stella's death and her daughter, so when the former superhero hears the noise in the bathroom he's fully convinced it's your mother the one who's behind that door, that she's the one who's going to tell him the truth, if she also sold him to the russians as well in the process.

He's decided also on killing her. She must need it after all that time getting older, closer to death more than ever.

Of course it's an unpleasant surprise when you can see the bathroom door opening when you're sure you left the front door closed and lock with at least two bolts to prevent anyone from getting inside, it makes you jump in the spot, quickly covering yourself from the new stranger that enters your bathroom.

"Stella?" he asks, it's the last room that the hero needs to check for himself.

You spot the green fabric of his suit immediately as you pressed your chest against the cold surface of the tub, and when the invader notices you're naked, he doesn't look away as any person with a hint of respect would do, but instead, continue on checking you out as you try to cover yourself in the water tinted in a nonexistent transparent color red.

You can feel his gaze as soon as you recognize him too, as you happen to notice that face from your mother's pictures, the propaganda in the TV when he did almost every commercial back when you were a kid. It's a shock, and dressed in his damn suit, you don't know why an old superhero is there standing beneath the yellowish bulbs of the light your bathroom happens to have.

Your cheeks adopt this pink color as you panic, grabbing the cup of wine to throw the liquid in the floor, breaking it against the marble walls just to shatter the glass in pieces, a weapon of defense as you lifted up against him.

"You're not Stella."

Soldier Boy looks amused: it's funny that you think you'd be able to kill him with shattered glass, yet he lets you keep thinking that way when he's enjoying the view.

Is he to blame? He just got out from this giant cooking oven back with the communists and he hasn't got his way with a lady since what seems are centuries, so when he spots you in the tub he simply cannot contain himself from peaking around. You should be in what? Not more than your 20's? Soft-looking skin that asked to be marked with his hands, by the force of his lips crashing in your flesh.

The thought is compelling, you're looking all feisty with the glass in your hand, threatening him and speaking something Soldier Boy cannot catch at first — Shit, he doesn't even notice the blood in your hand that's dripping all over your small rug in the floor, the power women like yourself seemed to have now and weirdly enough, a huge turn on.

"Get the fuck out!" you scream in an authority voice, the same you use back at work when you're mad, when you're usually holding a gun in defense more than a piece of broken glass "Stella is not fucking here!"

It takes a few more words to actually get him out of there, and as he closes the door behind him you finally stand to grab a towel covering from the currents of wind, trying, really hard, to think about anything else more that the fact that Soldier Boy has entered your house and your bathroom in the worst moment, far from what you were last updated with.

To be honest, it almost gave you a heart attack, leaving the bathroom to find your home torn apart, the drawers open and all the papers you've meticulously kept in place being all over the place as Ben stands awkwardly holding a shield in the middle of your living room.

"Fucking hell" you're cursing under your breath as you gathered some important things you cannot leave on the floor even when you're still wet from the shower, expelling this nice aroma that mixed the roses and the vanilla together with your personal scent — Weirdly enough, a fucking show to the hero that's already rock-hard from the peak he had of you from before.

You don't really notice it at first, too busy being mad as you let the papers you gathered on top of the table. You lose the shame you got left as the wet drops of the shower leave a trace in the floor — And as usual, you clearly don't notice it, but Ben does when the water is running down your back, and you're barking something about calling someone called Grace, holding onto a white tower with your dear life.

"Where is Stella Nightshade, sweetheart?" he speaks out loud cause he don't understand anything you say, really fighting to be nice with you like it would give him an opportunity to get under your skin.

"My mother's dead," you stand there without knowing what to say after. You know he and your mother were close, but you don't imagine he was going to actually go find her teammate when he recently woke up in a different country. "She died years ago dude, i'm sorry."

The information gathers in his head as you take a clean oversized shirt from the laundry basket covering with it as you throw the towel to the floor, Red Hot Chili Peppers it says, but he thinks it's a place in Italy more than a band like he isn't troubled already by the fact you were Stella's daughter, the person who thought was her only friend back in the time now dead.

"Does anyone know you're here?" your mind is drifting back to work again as you wondered if anyone knew he was going to break into your apartment and choose not to send any help — "Ben."

You've read his file. Hell, to be honest you've read every single file in Payback, so it's no surprise you know his name, but to the hero, it seems to be amusing when you call him by his real name, his mind fueled in a different direction as he notices you're not wearing any underwear beneath the shirt you're choosing to wear, one whose fabric's barely covering your tights.

"What do you mean dead?" he asks, furrowing his brows "It's not been so long."

"She got cancer three years ago" you explain with a sad tone, even when you disagree with Stella, it pains you to remember what sickness made out of her, consuming her from the inside at a cruel pace.

"Motherfucker," he states clearly angry, and you cannot help but look at him with a weird face, searching for the phone you left in the sofa to call any-fucking-body in the office that could send a damn army to get you: Didn't the Boys have everything under control? That's what you're told anyway, then why the fuck is the subject of matter cursing in your little messy apartment? — "Bitch just got away with it before I could do anything, isn't it? What a fucking shame."

"Pardon me?" it catches you by surprise at first, but it hits you soon after. Soldier Boy is not there to say hello to your mother or ask for her help, but instead, he's there to get revenge and actually kill Stella by his own matters.

Fuck. Of course is something new, something that makes you feel cold all sudden, your wet hair making you visible shake as you became aware of his plans.

"You know them. You know the people from the lab" it's more of a fact than a question, letting the words feel salty in his own mouth. "The ones that let me get away."

He's quickly to gather the pieces too, not as dumb as you think he is as the puzzle is finally coming up together in his head, and it's all it takes for him to take a step closer to you, cutting that space you've created since you kicked him out of the bathroom — He's angry now.

The red globe on his hand is now holding you by the throat, applying enough pressure to cut the air flow going to your lungs almost completely, his fingertips warm against your bare skin as he holds you in front of his figure, pushing you against the cold wall.

You usually would enjoy such activities, yet in the context you are trapped in right now, you began to choke, your own hands trying to push his grip back even when he’s too strong, not even flinching when you’re squirming, gasping for some air as your face became red, tears gathering in your eyes as he let you breathe for a couple of seconds when he senses you’re too close to black out.

“Talk little Nightshade” he says in a low voice. “Or else i’m breaking your pretty neck.”

“I work for the CIA!” You explain quickly as your breathing became more labored by the seconds. “Not for the people who let you out! I promise!”

He’s going to kill you. You can see the determination in his eyes, that predator look he happens to have.

What you don’t know, somehow, is that he’s going fucking insane. Your smell coming up to his nose to make him shiver, the sight of you in an oversized shirt that barely covers your shape is more than enough to push his buttons, to make him forgot about any killing he was allegedly so concentrated in fulfill, the sight of you almost crying messing with his brain.

Little Nightshade is a fucking tease.

His eyes follow your expression, the hand that gripped your neck and choke you harshly now pressing enough to only suppress the air flow in a more enjoyable way, the tension quickly shifting from dying to pleasure all over again as he kept you in place so easily.

It’s impossible to move, to do anything more than be pressed against a cold wall. Your mother has once again lied to you and you notice the relationship she painted with Soldier Boy was more of a movie in her head than reality itself. Makes you gulp in response when you stare at his expression, the face of a trained killer as you knew, fucking knew, a bit more of force in your neck and it would snap without any difficulty.

“I don’t work with them” you assure once again, maybe it’s your survivor skills hitting when you repeat it in a low voice, catching on your breath when he lets go allowing you to fill your lungs with air just enough before pressing that very spot again, the one that actually turns you on. “Fuck’s sake.”

Is that how you end? On your lame apartment?

The next is a weird thing, cause in the blink of an eye he’s close to your face planting his own body next to yours and you’re shivering at the feeling, his armor pressed against your chest as he left the shield he was holding on the floor.

The metal is pressed against your skin covered by the thin cotton of Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt, and he is so close, so close you froze there, no longer fighting his tight grip but mesmerized by his damn face, the same you watched on TV when you were a kid, the handsome man you happen to severely crush on in secret, just because you don’t want Stella to know or she will give you a long talk about how he is her age.

But he is, handsome as fuck, and now being so close to his face you can say it with all confidence. His beard is shaved perfectly and he smells incredibly good even for someone who has spent time locked away without any kind of hygiene, his green suit protecting him from the cold air that was getting through the opened window.

“Who are you?” he asks, scanning your face with a curious look as he wanted to know what expression you would have when you know why he's there in the first place — “What do you know about Stella Nightshade, your mother, selling me out?”

Fuck. So that's why he's there. You know she did it. And it's impossible for you to lie when he's making you so nervous, away from any weapon, any form of defense as you left the glass in the bathroom sink when you notice large gash on your hand, and your silence makes nothing more than leave him fuming. If he was angry before, he now reaches a higher level as his grip turns more violent now that he knows you know what he meant, why he's there claiming to talk with your death mother out of nothing.

"Call her then. Use your powers" he demands dryly, and you're shaking at this point cause it's more shame added to the long pile, the bathroom already being a humiliation by itself. "Fucking call her."

You squirm beneath his grabbing, when he's pushing you harder against the concrete wall and you can just feel him from under the suit, hard cock pressing against your belly, green in your vision as he towers over you. He knows what he's doing, and even when you try to be disgusted by it, you find yourself enjoying his closeness, how he's pinning you with no effort at all, hands on your throat while he demanded an answer.

"I can't call her" you admit in a low voice, cheeks now red as the embarrassment crept upon your face — "I don't have my mother's power."

Soldier Boy seems to not believe you for a mere second, after that you can feel the blade of the knife pressing against your skin, a threat that now becomes more real as you can feel the cold metal stomach. One swift movement and you'd be stabbed without a second thought.

It's sick how much you enjoy it when you are squirming against him, goosebumps in the zone he threats to destroy.

A force pull his lips upwards in a smile, unable to pay attention to nothing else but the sound you made without even realizing it. "You like that, huh little Nightshade?"

It seems to be a joke for him, bitting your inner cheek to prevent you from saying something stupid, from letting out a moan in response to all the sudden desire.

Despite all conditions you stay silent, holding his gaze like it's a game you're not going to lose. He didn't respond either, trapped in a second that seemed longer than the usual when time stopped around you, eyes looking like he can surpass the old fabric of the white shirt you choose to wear.

It's the tension what makes you mad. You're so into getting people like him, that your ego is bruised now that you notice you are actually attracted to all of that, to the way he's pressing you against the concrete, how all falls into place when he's pushing himself against you, invading any private space you could require.

He's kissing you soon after. Ben crumbles against the tension as the hand on your throat demands a kiss now, pulling you closer to his face without any warning nor concern as he crash his lips against yours in a rough kiss. You try to push him away in response even when you don't want to; see, it's hard to even admit you have interest in Soldier Boy in any other way more than the professional, but when he's bitting your lower lip you're letting your defense down: When is the last time you've been kissed like that?

You remind yourself you're tired from work, that the CIA has done nothing for you more than fuck your over and over even to this point, losing sight of one of the most important heroes of the word, and it's making you encourage to let go just for a mere hour.

"Lookin' so good takin' a bath" he says, and the sound of his deep voice is enough to send an electric wave through your spine, like he’s talking to himself as the hand on your hip is now tracing the curves of your body, taunting you from over the shirt he now learns to love. His beard is now scraping against your skin and you can feel his lips going down, tracing an invisible path to the crook of your neck as his hand is no longer choking you.

Jesus. Was that even happening or was that your imagination? Did you feel asleep on the bathtub? Maybe it’s a reflection as you are close to drowning, your brain doing that happy thoughts shit. You’re tilting your head to the side just to give him more space to work with and you’re just letting it be, enjoying how he’s sucking and nibling on your skin to leave a red mark behind, all teeth and no fucking control as he uses a good amount of force to make you moan in the process, the pain enough to remember who’s really on charge.

Ben forgets about asking any more questions, he’s too busy when his hand are taking decisions by themselves as they slide under your shirt, body still cold from the bath you just took, water still drying in your flesh when he’s like he usually is — An invader.

His hands are big and they’re capable of holding your whole tummy as he caress the soft skin that seems to expel a warm sensation, how it leaves goosebumps in any place he touches. You remember you’re basically at his mercy now that his hands roam with all liberty under your shirt, the look he gave you in the bathroom mistaken you for Stella, his eyes looking at any exposed skin he could look at.

“What the fuck,” you try to say under your breath, to keep on this facade you have of a composed person, one that won’t give in to be manhandled “What the fuck do you think you are you doing?”

“Well, i’m not seeing any complains” The blade cuts through the cotton leaving a large hole you know you won’t be able to sew after yet he’s right: There are no complains, nothing but eager that makes him go further as the seconds passed “In fact, can see that you’re pretty much enjoying it, Doll.”

You hate the nickname, that old man way of speaking when he’s squeezing one of your breasts with more force you can even handle, cursing at how easy it seems to be for him, how he wants to see you simply destroyed.

“You’re loving this isn’t?” he ask all sudden, studying you with his hazel eyes — “You love being a good whore f’me? My little Nightshade.”

He’s hard under the suit, covered in a green material you don’t know how to call as your hand searches for him, crave for him, convincing that it's what you must do as you trace the invisible lines his muscles made.

Soldier Boy’s messy, much like an animal when he’s groaning beneath your touch, his own body seeking for yours as your fingers grew bolder, demanding for a deeper contact — “Careful there sweetheart, i’m still fresh out of the oven. May be a little rusty."

You laugh at his words cause you know what he means, yet your hands work by themselves as you barely even touch him from over the suit, the hard feeling of his cock against your palm, hips buckling against your hand seconds after seeking for you, eyes shut for a couple of seconds.

“M’being careful” you say, catching yourself stealing a look at his reaction, taking your time on pleasuring him , gulping as he experiences the torture of your touch “Taking it slow for an old man.”

“Old man, huh? Now you're talking” He teases, and the sound of his laugh just fucks you up. Maybe it has to be with the fact he’s placing two fingers in front of your lips while looking at you, swollen pink lips he’s so fixated for a second, or it’s because he is, indeed, way older than you are — “Spit.”

It’s not a command, but it sounds like one as you’re unable to disobey, quickly spitting in his hand as you can visibly see the traces of saliva leaving a wet residue in your chin, one Ben looks at it for a good amount of time: How is something like saliva is so damn erotic? He doesn’t know it, but it’s enough to send him into a spiral.

He’s strong you think, cause he’s a superhero. He’s Soldier Boy by any meaning, so it’s not a big effort to hold you in his arms and lift you in the air as you let out a gasp of surprise, spanking your ass as one of his hands separates your legs for him, holding one up as you stand in the other.

“Relax, 'got you, doll” he says, your back against the wall as he kept a bruising grip in your hip, holding you in place so you don’t have to keep your balance — “Fuck you smell so damn good.”

The roses and vanilla aroma lingers on your skin as you finally understand what he's doing now, his hand close to your cunt as he taunts you, torturing you like you did so eagerly before, his personal pet as his digits get lost in your entrance now, your folds spilled with juice he can physically feel in his fingertips, your arousal's so nice against the palm of his hand he cannot help but kiss you, a feverish desire taking over his actions, the lewd sound his fingers made when he finally pushes his digits inside of you, velvety walls welcoming him as they seemed to squeeze him already — He has made such a good job on turning you on, it’s impossible to not react when he’s finally touching you, pumping into you in a constant pace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he says, the look on your face is enough to make his cock twitch in his pants in response, imagination running wild as he thinks about that very same feeling in a much deeper way, how you’d look now stretched out, crying just like you did when he choked you asking for information — “Such a nice cunt, so wet f’me.”

He's looking at you, holding the image in his mind forever: Pink pussy displayed for him, white t-shirt rising over your chest, lifting your leg over his arm as his muscles flexed by the force he's using to fuck you deliberately, your lips parted as you ask for more in between erratic moans as his fingers curved inside you so he can hit that nice place he can reach with no effort at all, that one spot thats makes you moan louder.

"Ah-fuck" you let out. Ben's all about touching you for what it seems an eternity, thumb grazing against your clit when he's plainly torturing you, testing how much patience you have left now that he has full control of you.

"Don't cum," he demands, your heartbeats are louder by the seconds as he lifts you slightly, lips attacking your neck before the words escape from his mouth "Need you to come undone in my cock first."

He's leaving marks, marks you don't remember how to hide but don't bother you at all, touching you as he pleases you, taking all the time in the world cause it seems like the night belongs to him — Getting started as you shake your head in an improvised yes.

Yes. The thought is pure electricity, the sudden need to please him as you shake your head once again.

“Please Ben,” you don’t recognize what you’ve become now. “Please let me cum in your cock.”

"Go on doll, put on a show f'me" the supe says with a grin you cannot resist. "Bend and show me that lovely ass."

It’s all it takes. His fingers are now away from you, but you’re now facing the wall as you obey, bending until your cheek is pressed against the concrete and you can hear how he’s now unzipping his pants, the green fabric of his suit now to the side.

You look at him from over your shoulder, bitting the your lower lip as you check him out, his slightly curved dick pointing upwards, precum already leaking out.

“Like what you’re seeing or what?”

“Yeah, but there’s no fucking way.”

You’re feeding on his ego now, but you can’t help it when his size is far from what you consider it’s common — “Common’ doll. You can hadle it.”

You gulp in response cause you know you’re more than eager to try, just the sight of his own hand holding his lenght as he strokes himself making you drool in response. Fuck. It transforms in a need now. When he positions himself beneath you and he’s spitting down to that very place where he’s pushing against your hole, saliva coating his cock before just letting the tip inside.

Lubricated, he pushes a bit more and it feels just damn right. Even when it begans to hurt as he’s thick enough to force himself inside you.

Benjamin knows you’re in pain so he waits a second before shoving his cock inside one more time. You need some time as he stretches you out, clenching your teeth while he works.

"You're doing it s'good" he praises, hand massaging your back as he prevents himself from fucking you at his liking, “Takin' me like a champ."

"God" you let out a sharp moan moments after, crying when you felt the pain more than anything else — "Can't-"

"No doll" he hums as he pulls slightly more. “You can do this” he forces himself in until he's finally balls deep inside your cunt, letting you adjust to his size as he can feel fucking everything. Your blood flow, your velvety walls that squeeze him unused to someone as big as he was, your face distorted in what seems an intense mix of pain and pure, devastating pleasure — "Atta girl."

Strikes like lighting.

Soldier Boy's bitting your shoulder-blade as he waits, waits for it to switch into pleasure, to become intoxicating to the point you cannot longer remember your own name.

"Please move," you ask sooner than he thinks, and when he moves, you can feel it in your belly, melting your fucking brain as he repeated the process again, burying his cock as deep as he could go without any previous warning — "Ah, just like that, please-"

"Do you like how my cock is stretching you out now?" Ben's voice is way deeper than what usually is as he laughs, grunting behind you as one of his hands reach a fistful of your hair, grabbing it with force to pull your head backwards "Good girl, keep huggin' my cock."

You're drunk on the feeling, on the vibrations his voice sends every time he's saying something dirty for you, when he laughs victim of the pleasure.

"Gonna' keep you as my personal slut," he thinks out loud, pushing you against the wall every time he fucks you, using his other hand to spread one of your ass cheeks to the side so he can hit it harder. "Use you as my fucking pet so I can cum on your pretty face whenever I want."

He's moaning, your body’s sweaty as he pulls your hair without caring, not concentrated on the pain it produces as his hips continue on collide against you.

"Would you like that, little Nightshade?" he asks then in a low voice, his thumb pressing against your asshole as he fucks you harder now that you're used to his size. "Could get used to this pretty cunt. Promise to keep my cock whore nice and full."

It doesn't take long. Soldier Boy's moans are now filling the room as his pace becomes faster, slurred words between his erratic breathing when the hand on your hair comes up to finally grab you by the neck, like he can read your mind cause it's exactly what you need to get there, to experience by first hand a set of crashing waves that were getting more and more intense on your stomach.

You're close to the edge. He can smell it in the air when the sound of your skin slapping against his is loud enough to be all you can hear, mixing with the lovely moans you produce when he’s pounding into you with no mercy, fingers pressing the side of your neck with enough force you’re running out of breathe.

It’s messy, violent and you love it, love how he’s ruining you all sudden, fucking you up from the inside, making your vision turning dizzy in response. You’re immersed in the haze he’s driven you into before admiting:

��God i’m so fucking close.”

“Cum on my cock,” it sounds like he’s begging you to do it, fingers finding their way to your swollen clit to move against the sensitive flesh “Come on doll, leave me full of you.”

He’s making you move now, hands now controlling your hips as you take him as his liking, mere seconds until you’re finally crumbling, violently shaking as you finally reach your peak. He keeps on fucking you through your high, long enough so he’s pulling out all of sudden, stroking his lenght over you as his cum finally lands on your back leaving you convered with his load.

Fucking hell.

When you’re coming down from your orgasm shame seems to hit you hard, however for Ben is not enough when he’s kneeling on the floor, eyes on the mess his cock made out of you.

“Wanna go again, little Nightshade?” he asks curiously, and the question makes you laugh in response, forgetting about formalities and the trouble it meant you were intimate with Soldier Boy out of all the supes in the world.

“Hm,” you seem to think about it for a second, his breathing close to your wet pussy as he’s still wearing his clothes in contrast of you being so exposed — “But you’re keeping the suit on.”

He don’t have any complains when he’s the one pressing his face against your wet folds.

Funny thing is now when you’re forced to join the Boys days after that very encounter — A bad joke when you’re now babysitting Soldier Boy himself.

“Been missing you s’much little Nightshade” he admits after a couple of minutes alone in the filthy motel “Thinking about how cute you are, how you felt taking my cock so nicely in your living room.”

“Fuck off, Ben.”

“We’ll be quick” he promises “That stupid assholes back there wont even notice.”

You seem to think about it for a second before lifting your middle finger in response — “I said fuck off, Ben.”

For now, it’s enough for him that you’re thinking about it.

my masterlist

[jenoroyals]

Cigarettes After Sex - Lee Jeno

pairing : jeno x fem!reader

synopsis : Starting your first year of college in a different country was exciting to you. Everything fell into place - your roommate, your friends, and even your apartment. The only thing that didn’t was Lee Jeno - your roommate’s boyfriend’s best friend.

word count : 17.7K words

content/warnings : college au!, fluff, angst, strangers to lovers?, one bed trope, smoking usage, heavy drinking usage, cursing, cheating (not jeno or mc), perv!jeno, semi sexual content, etc.

featuring : yunjin (lesaraffim), mina (former gugudan), jaemin (nct), mark (nct), haechan (nct), renjun (nct), chenle (nct), jisung (nct), giselle (aespa), & shotaro (riize).

During your childhood you dreamed of growing up, being on your own and going out was all you’ve ever wanted. Hearing stories from your older relatives about how wild they were in college just made it more severe.

“Yn? What college are you thinking about?” Your older sister asks.

You think for a moment before replying. “Well, I was thinking of Seoul National University.” You say and she furrows her brows.

“Well, that’s far from home.” She says, staring at you.

“I know but they have a great nursing program.” You defend while looking at her.

“Schools around here have great nursing programs too.” Your sister argues and you shake your head.

“Not like the one over there.” You say and she sighs defeatedly.

“Can you even speak the language?" Your sister asks and you nod your head.

“Yes, I took classes all throughout high school. I’m basically fluent.” You say and she scoffs lightly.

“Nerd.” She says and you slap her arm. “Hey!” She laughs and looks at you before getting serious again.

“Have you talked to mom and dad?” She asks and you shake your head no.

“I’m pretty sure they won’t mind.” You say and look at her before getting up. “I might not even get accepted. I’m still thinking about what colleges to apply to.”

“Well, as your older sister, I don’t want you to go that far. But, I know that you’ve always taken your education seriously, so if that's where you want to go, then you should apply.” Your sister says and you snort.

“I was going to anyway.” You say with a roll of your eyes, jokingly.

She pushes your shoulder and mumbles “Whatever.” before walking out of your room with a laugh.

You walk over to your computer and start looking at the application to SNU. Sighing, you click on the application and start typing in your information. “Let’s hope.”

You smile thinking about that memory while packing your bags. Tomorrow, you’ll leave your hometown and go to South Korea.

“Are you excited?” Your mom asks while zipping up one of your luggages.

“Yeah I am.” You say and she smiles while looking at you.

“Is your roommate nice?” She asks and you nod with a smile.

“Yeah, we’ve been talking a lot lately. She seems nice.” You say and your mom asks for her name.

“Yunjin. She was born in Korea but moved to New York when she was little.”

You were online looking at the dorms, hoping to find a suitable roommate when an ad listing popped up. Curiously, you clicked on it and found a girl named Yunjin who was looking for a roommate to help pay for her apartment. She looked nice and the apartment was close to the university.

Hesitantly, you clicked on the apply button and started reading the conditions before applying. You were sure that you could pay for half of the rent with your card. Your parents were both brand owners so money wasn’t an issue.

The next day, you received an email saying that she would be glad to have you as a roommate and that's when a new friendship formed.

Your mom nods her head and starts running her hands through your hair. “I’m gonna miss you.” She says and sniffles which causes you to turn around.

“Mom, don’t cry. I’ll be okay, I promise.” You say to her and hug her.

“I know you will, I’m just gonna miss my baby.” She says and you coo at her.

“I’m okay.” You mom says and pulls away while wiping her eyes.

“Now finish packing up. I’m going to start preparing dinner.” She says and walks out of your room.

You sigh and grab your phone, looking at the messages you received.

facetime? - yunjin

You quickly type a response before you get an incoming call from her. “Hello?” You ask while placing your phone on your vanity.

“Hi! I’m so excited to move in and finally meet you in person.” She says and you laugh while packing away your accessories.

“Me too! I can’t believe we’re finally going to meet tomorrow.” You say and look at her through your phone.

“Are you still packing, girl?” She asks and laughs.

“Just last minute things.” You say and she nods her head.

“What time does your flight land?” She asks and you quickly look at your boarding pass.

“I should be landing at 5pm. You’re picking me up right?” You ask her and she nods. “Yes I am.”

The two of you stayed on the phone until it was time for you to go eat dinner. After dinner you showered and laid down on your bed. You couldn’t sleep due to the excitement and nerves. You were going to be far away from home, your family, everything you’ve ever known.

It was like you were finally starting your life, this was all that you dreamed of while growing up. Now that it’s finally happening, you couldn’t help but be nervous. You don’t even remember falling asleep but somehow you get woken up by your alarm.

Your flight was at 5am and you had to be there about an hour early. You woke up at around 3am and walked into your bathroom. You brushed your teeth and hair, trying to make yourself look comfy but somewhat presentable since you were going to be on a flight for 12 hours.

After getting ready and grabbing your bags, you brought them downstairs where your parents were already preparing snacks and food for your flight.

“Are you ready, sweetie?” Your dad asks and hands you the bag of food and snacks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He nods and hugs you, squeezing you tightly.

“My baby girl is leaving the nest.” He says and you laugh.

“I’ll be back dad. I’m not leaving forever.” You say and he laughs along with your mom.

“Okay, we should start leaving. It’s already 3:45.” Your mom says and starts grabbing your luggage.

You follow her out into the car with 2 suitcases in your hands, along with the bag full of food. After putting everything into the car, the three of you get inside the car and drive to the airport.

Your parents followed you all the way through the airport until they couldn’t anymore. You turned to face them and hugged them tightly.

“I’m going to miss you guys.” You say and they both sniffle, trying hard not to cry.

“Be safe please.” You mom says and you nod your head.

“I will, I promise.”

“Flight 423 to Seoul will now be boarding.” Was heard over the intercom.

“I love you guys.” You say to them and hug them tight once again before turning around.

You wave goodbye to them before you can’t see their figures anymore. Pushing your glasses up, you make your way into the first class section of the plane. Setting your bag down, you quickly take your glasses off and look out the window.

Another 20 minutes went by before the plane started to take off. You watch out the window as the city lights start becoming smaller and smaller.

Goodbye home.

-

After a 12 hour flight, you finally landed in Korea. Grabbing your bags from the baggage claim, you walked out into the front of the airport, hoping to see Yunjin.

“Yn!” You hear your name being called and turn to where the voice came from.

You let out a squeal and run towards Yunjin. She wraps her arms around you and laughs.

“You’re finally here!” She says and you nod your head before pulling away.

“The air feels different.” You joke and she laughs.

“You haven’t even stepped outside yet.”

“I know but it just does.” You say and she laughs before helping you with your suitcases. The two of you walk out of the airport and to her car.

As you’re looking out the car window, you see different types of scenery. Buildings, people, trees, rivers, and bicyclists.

“Oh wow, the college looks huge.” You say and she laughs.

“I’m so not excited for school.” She says and you nod your head.

“Me too. Thank god we have two weeks before we have to start attending classes.” You say and the both of you continue to talk until she parks inside the apartment parking garage.

She popped the trunk open so you could get your luggages out. She helped you with them before the both of you walked towards the apartment building. There were two different apartment buildings.

“Okay, so we are in the building on the left on the fourth floor.” She says.

You follow her and get into an elevator. The elevator arrives on the fourth floor and you guys walk down the hall.

“124...125…126…and 127.” She says to herself and turns to you.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m dying to just lay down for a bit.” You say and she laughs before unlocking the door.

The walls were white with pictures and decorations adorning them. She had black leather couches surrounding a glass coffee table.

“You can put your stuff in here.” She says and leads you to a room. There was a queen sized bed with black bedding.

“I hope you like it. I wasn't sure how to decorate it.” She says and you shake your head.

“It’s perfect.” You say and she nods her head.

“What time are we going to dinner?” You ask her, starting to unpack.

“At 6, and I hope you don’t mind but I invited my boyfriend and some of our friends.” She says and you shake your head again.

“Not at all. I’m excited to make new friends.” You say and unzip another suitcase.

“What’s his name?” You ask while she helps unbag your skincare and makeup onto the vanity table.

“Jaemin.” She answers and looks at you.

“You know, his friends are also super cute.”

“Yunjin don’t.” You say jokingly and she laughs.

“What? I’m just saying. You said that you’ve never dated before. Why not try new experiences? I mean, that’s what you’re here for right?” She asks and you sigh before looking at her.

“Well yeah but-”

“But, nothing. Come on, you’re in a foreign country, you’re sweet, and you’re hot. You could probably get anyone you want.” She says, walking closer to you.

“Let’s just see how this goes.” You say and she smiles while clapping her hands.

After unpacking, you showered and started getting ready for dinner. After applying makeup and doing your hair, you looked through the drawers for clothes. You decided on a pair of low rise jeans with a baby pink cropped tank top.

After getting ready you grabbed your phone to look at the time but the doorbell rang. Confused, you walked out of your room and knocked on Yunjin’s bedroom door.

“Ynn, it’s my boyfriend and our friends. Can you let them in?” She yells from the other side of the door.

You yell back a yes and walk to the front door to open it. Three guys all dressed differently looked back at you in a confused manner.

“Are you sure this is the right one, dude?” The guy in a plain white long sleeve asks.

“Yes I’m sure. Hi, you must be the new roommate.” The guy in the middle asks.

“Yeah, I’m Yn. Nice to meet you. Please, come in.” You open the door wider for them to enter.

“Yunjin’s in the room.” You tell him and he nods before walking into her room.

Feeling awkward, you gesture for the other two boys to sit in the living room. They both walked over to the couch and sat down.

“Hello, I’m Mark. It's nice to meet you.” The guy who spoke earlier says and smiles at you.

He holds his hand out as a gesture for you to shake it. You grab his hand and smile back at him. “Yn.”

“I’m Jeno.” The other one says.

You quickly look at him and observe him. He was dressed in black ripped jeans with a plain white tee and a black leather jacket.

He was oozing with charisma, from the way he talked to the way he dressed. He had rings adorned on his fingers, paired with silver metal bracelets and multiple necklaces around his neck. You almost felt intimidated by him until he flashed a bright smile at you. His eyes formed into cute little crescents of the moon.

“Nice to meet you.” You say and walk away to grab your shoes. You grab your pink dunks and walk over to the couch to put your shoes on but before you could, Mark speaks up.

“Where’s the bathroom?” He asks and you direct him to it before continuing to put on your shoes.

As you bent down to slip your foot in, Jeno noticed how he could see your cleavage poking through the opening of your tank top. He smirks and licks his lips before looking back at his phone. After putting your shoes on you sat there in silence.

“Nice shoes.” He says and you look at him.

“Thank you.” You look down to his shoes to compliment him as well when you notice he’s wearing the same shoes as you just in black.

“You too.” You shyly say and he chuckles softly.

Jaemin and Yunjin finally walk back into the living room.

“Is everyone here?” She asks and Jamein shakes his head.

“We’re waiting for Mina.” Jaemin says and your eyebrows furrow.

“Who’s Mina?” You ask and Yunjin walks over to come sit next to you.

“Mark’s girlfriend. She lives further away from campus.” Yunjin says and you nod your head. Just then, Mark walks out and sits back down where he was sitting previously.

The atmosphere was a little awkward and you felt yourself curl up into a ball. You could feel Jeno’s eyes on you but you choose to ignore it, looking at anywhere but him. Finally, the doorbell rings signaling Mina’s arrival. Mark goes to open the door and greets her with a kiss.

“Okay, let’s go.” Yunjin says and walks to Jaemin, intertwining their hands. You’re the last one out of the door and you turn around to lock the door humming to yourself.

You turn back around and see Jeno waiting for you as the rest of them start walking to the parking garage.

“You didn’t have to wait for me.” You joke and he laughs.

“It’s okay, I didn’t want to really be with the couples anyway.” He says and you laugh, the two of you trailing behind the rest of the group.

Mark and Mina walk towards her car and you follow the rest of them into what you assume to be Jeno’s car since Jaemin was getting in the back seat. You turn to look at Yunjin who wiggles her eyebrows at you teasingly. You jokingly roll your eyes and get into the passenger seat.

“The usual?” Jeno asks and Yunjin nods her head.

He waits a moment for his phone to connect to the car before pulling out of the parking garage and heading to the restaurant. The music started to play and you recognized the song.

Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

“I love this song.” You say out loud, hoping to make conversation.

“Yeah?” He asks and looks over at you quickly.

“Yeah, I love Cigarettes After Sex.” You say and softly laugh.

“What’s your favorite song?” You ask and turn to look at him with a smile.

“Probably ‘K.’ What about you?” He replies and you stop and think for a moment.

“It’s hard to say because I love all of their songs but I’ve been listening to ‘Sunsetz’ a lot recently.” You say and start playing with your fingers.

The conversation dies again but this time it’s not an awkward silence, it’s a comfortable one. A while later, you guys finally reach the restaurant and Jeno parks the car. The four of you get out of the car and meet up with Mark and Mina who were inside the restaurant already.

The six of you sit down at the table and start looking at the menu. It was a Korean Barbeque place. You were at the end of the table, closest to the wall with Yunjin on your left and across from her was Jaemin. Mark and Mina took up the remaining seats.

You look at the menu, debating on what you should get.

“The spicy pork belly is pretty good.” Jeno says across from you. You look up at him and smile.

“Yeah I was thinking about getting that.” You say and he smiles before looking back down at the menu.

“So, Yn. What are you majoring in?” Mina asks you before taking a sip of her water.

“Oh I’m majoring in nursing right now.”

“Oh, no way! Me too!.” Jaemin says and holds out his hand for a high five. You shyly high five him and the conversation continues.

Mark and Mina were both in their second year of college. Mark wanted to become a music producer and his girlfriend wanted to become a veterinarian. Yunjin and Jaemin were in the same year as you and like yourself, Jaemin wanted to become a nurse. You knew that Yunjin wanted to be a lawyer from previous conversations.

Jeno kept quiet most of the time, letting his friends talk before he did. After Jaemin finished speaking you turned to Jeno with questioning eyes.

“What about you?” You ask him and he softly smiles.

“I want to be a car designer.” He sheepishly says and you nod your head.

“That’s cool! I think you’d be good at it.” You say and he laughs.

“How do you know?” He asks teasingly and you look back at him.

“Your car! You added on all of the modifications right?” You say and he nods his head.

The four friends look at each other with knowing smiles before looking back at you and Jeno.

Before you know it, the food arrived. Jeno grabbed a piece of the spicy pork belly and placed it into your bowl of rice.

“Thank you.” You sheepishly say before eating it.

Everyone was so focused on eating that there was almost no conversation. Small conversations here and there but not too long lasting.

After 3 rounds of meat, everyone was stuffed. You wanted to treat everyone since they made you feel so welcomed but Jaemin beat you to it. He slid his card into the tab and gave it back to the server. You pouted a bit and Jeno noticed.

The way your cheeks filled up with air and your lips curled into each other, pressing against each other. He softly laughed and looked away.

“You guys want to drink tonight?” Mark suggests and everyone agrees.

“Yn and I can go grab alcohol and meet you guys back at the apartment.” Jeno says and everyone agrees with the plans.

You softly smile at the thought of spending time alone with him. You walk to his car and get in the passenger seat while waving bye to everyone else. Jeno starts up the car and the music starts playing.

Sunsetz - Cigarettes After Sex

You smile at the familiar instrumental intro of the song. You look over at him and he already has a smile forming on his face.

“Do you want to play 21 questions? We can get to know each other that way.” He asks and you nod your head yes.

“So, what made you come to Korea?” He asks you when the car gets to a red light.

“They have a good nursing program. One of the best in the whole world.” He nods his head at your answer.

You think for a moment before a question pops up in your head.

“How did you meet Jaemin?” You ask him and he softly laughs at your question.

“We were deskmates in middle school. I met him when I was 14.” He says and you smile at the thought of a younger Jeno.

The rest of the car ride was filled with questions bouncing back and forth between the two of you. Walking into the convenience store, you ask him a question.

“What’s your favorite color?” You ask and he laughs loudly at it.

“That’s what you’re asking?” He asks and laughs again when you nod your head.

The both of you walk over to the section with the soju bottles and he grabs a case that has 12 bottles in it.

“Blue.” He answers while walking to the register.

He started pulling out his wallet but you were faster. You tapped your card and when Jeno hears the noise the machine makes he looks up.

“My treat.” You say and he sighs softly.

“You didn’t have to.” He says and you shake your head.

“Your turn.” You say to him, gesturing for him to ask a question. Before he can ask you a question his name gets called.

You turn to look at the girl who called his name. She was gorgeous. Her hair was in all the right places, her makeup looked flawless, and her outfit looked like it was chosen by a stylist. Feeling insecure you wrap your arms around your body and avert your eyes.

“Jeno? That is you!” The girl exclaims and runs over to bring him into a hug.

Jeno keeps his arms down by his sides, not reciprocating the hug back. She pulls away from his embrace and pouts at him.

“What? You don’t even want to hug me?” She asks, batting her eyes at him but he keeps a stoic poker face.

“What are you doing here Giselle? I thought you were in Japan.” He says calmly and she turns her head to look at you. Ignoring his question she walks up to you.

“Hi, I’m Giselle. Jeno’s girlfriend.” She says and your eyes widen a bit.

She holds her hand out for you to take but before you could Jeno steps in front of you and blocks you from her vision, his taller frame towering over her.

“Ex. Girlfriend.” He clarifies and she rolls her eyes.

“Same thing. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” She says with a smile that looked all too fake.

He sighs and turns to look at you before grabbing your hand in his.

“She doesn’t need to be introduced to you.” He says bitterly.

His left hand wrapping around yours while holding the case of soju bottles in his other hand. He glares at the girl in front of you guys before dragging you out of the convenience store.

He pops open his trunk and lets go of your hand to place the case of alcohol in there. You awkwardly observe him let out a sigh before walking to the passenger door. He gets in the driver's seat and turns the car on.

You look at him and frown when you see his eyebrows furrowed with his eyes closed. Hesitantly, you poke at his eyebrows and his eyes open in shock.

“It’s not good to furrow your eyebrows for a long time.” You say and smile at him.

He softly smiles at you while looking into your eyes. Seeing him up close like this made you realize just how attractive he is. His strong and arched brows, his mole under his eye, his perfect nose, his full lips, even his chiseled jaw. Realizing what you’re doing, you quickly turn away from him and look straight out the window of the car and he softly laughs.

“I’m sorry.” He says and you frown before looking at him.

“Why are you apologizing?” You ask and he sighs again.

“Giselle.” He says, pointing out the elephant in the room. You nod your head and look at him furrowing his eyebrows again.

“We uh… we broke up last year. We dated for about two years before she had to move to Japan. Her dad got a job transfer over there and so her whole family moved. We tried to do long distance and it was going well, until I found out that she cheated on me.” He says and closes his eyes again.

You pout again and look at the man in front of you. How could anyone ever cheat on him? He was so damn perfect. Sure, you only met him today but you knew how genuine he was.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” You say and he softly chuckles.

You quickly look down for a second, trying to focus your attention on your hands in your lap. You slightly jump at the feeling of his hands under your chin. He grabs your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger, your eyebrows furrow feeling the coldness of his rings directly on your skin.

He tilts your face up to look back into his eyes and smirks. You slowly swallow the saliva in your mouth and look into his brown eyes.

“Don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong.” He says and you slowly nod your head.

He lets go of your chin and you sit further back into your seat. He laughs at your action and puts his car in reverse, heading back to your shared apartment with Yunjin.

-

“Finally!” You hear Yunjin say as you open the door.

“Sorry, we had to drive to the one further away because the other one didn’t have any soju in stock.” Jeno lies easily through his teeth.

You furrow at his words before plastering a smile onto your face. “Yeah, the detour was like 20 minutes.” You say, hoping that it made the lie more believable.

Jeno smiles at you, backing him up before placing the case of soju on the counter. He opens up the box and pulls out 3 bottles from it. You walk over to help him put the rest in the fridge and he grabs your hand. You gasp softly and look up at him.

“Thanks.” He says and you nod your head, knowing what he was referring to.

Jaemin had suggested a game of ‘Truth or Drink’ so the six of you were sat around the coffee table . Everyone agreed to let loose and be completely honest, no matter how raw the questions were and if they didn’t want to answer it, they could just take a shot of soju.

“Okay, Yn.” Jaemin starts off and you look at him.

“What was your first kiss like?” He finishes and everyone looks at you, waiting for you to answer.

“Hm, my first kiss.” You repeat and cringe thinking about it.

“It was gross. He kept trying to push his tongue in my mouth.” You say and everyone laughs at the thought of it.

“Okay, Mina. What’s the worst pick up line you’ve ever heard and who said it?” You ask with a smile and she laughs at the question. She looks over to her boyfriend who gasps offendedly.

“The worst pick up line I’ve ever heard was at the club.” She says and Mark groans upon hearing that causing the group to laugh.

“Mark came up to me and said ‘Hey, you owe me a drink. Because when I saw you, I dropped mine.”

Mark screams and cringes as the words leave his girlfriend’s lips. The group laughs and starts teasing him.

“I would’ve thrown my drink at you if you said that to me.” Jeno says and laughs when Mark flips him off.

As the night went on, half the soju case was almost gone. You could feel the alcohol getting to you, your eyesight was starting to blur a bit. The game continues and it was mark’s turn to ask.

“Have you and Yunjin ever got caught doing ‘it’ by someone?”

“Plenty of times.” Jaemin answered quickly with no thought.

Yunjin, feeling embarrassed, hides her face in her hands.

“Oh my god Yunjin, you said you were innocent!” You exclaim and hit her shoulder lightly.

“She’s not innocent at all, one time she wan-mphh” She covers her boyfriend’s mouth before he can embarrass her even more.

She removes her hand from his mouth and he laughs before scanning the room. He looks at everyone before stopping on his best friend.

“Okay, Jeno. Are you completely over what happened last year?” He asks his best friend who tenses up at the question but then relaxes again.

The smile that was once on his face disappears and he clears his throat.

“Um yeah, I would say I am.” Everyone nods their head at his answer and he looks over at you with a smirk.

“Oh no.” You say with a sigh playfully. He just laughs at your reaction and smiles even more.

“You’ve been asking me questions all night, aren’t you curious about anyone else?” You ask jokingly and he shakes his head.

“Nope. Just you, princess.” You cheeks flush at his use of a pet name and you look at him with wide eyes. He chuckles and playfully pinches your cheek.

“What’s the kinkiest thing you like to do during sex?” He asks and your cheek flushes even more.

It’s not like you’ve never had sex, you’ve had a few encounters of it. Keyword, a few. Both times however, were really vanilla so you’ve never experienced anything remotely kinky.

Clearing your throat you slowly pour the soju into your shot glass and take the shot.

“Oh come on princess.” He says and you shake your head no.

“Not telling.” You say and cough when the alcohol goes down the wrong pipe. The group laughs at your misery while Jeno pats your back, also laughing.

Not long after, everyone was slowly starting to drift off to sleep. You slowly were starting to sober up and decided to start cleaning up the mess. You grabbed the empty bottles and placed them in a trashbag.

After cleaning up, you looked around at everyone. Mark and Mina were fast asleep on the couch, cuddled up. You walked over to your bedroom and grabbed a spare blanket from the closet for them.

As you were walking out of your room, you met Jaemin and Yunjin in the hallway. “I’m guessing he’s sleeping with you?”

She nods her head and drags a drunk Jaemin into her room. You walk into the living room and drape the blanket over Mark and Mina. Jeno was fast asleep with his head on the coffee table. You walk over to him and shake him.

“Jeno? Wake up.” You say softly while shaking him awake. He mumbles incoherently before tuning his head to face you.

“Jeno, come on. Go sleep on the couch.” He shakes his head no and whines softly.

“You don’t want to sleep on the couch?” You ask softly while crouching down to him. He shakes his head again and you furrow your brows.

“Where do you wanna sleep?” You ask him and he slowly lifts his head up. He looks towards the hallway and points in your room.

You sigh softly and weigh your options. You could leave him here and have his body be sore tomorrow or you could take him to your room and let him sleep on your bed while you come back to sleep on the couch. Sighing, you grab his hand and help him up.

“Come on, let’s go to my room.” You whisper and he obliges.

He stands up, albeit a little wobbly but he manages to balance his weight, never letting go of your hand. You drag him to your room and place him on the bed. Reaching over. You take off his shoes and place them on the tile floor.

You stare at the sleeping man in front of you and sigh softly. As you go to walk away, he grabs your wrist. You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him.

“Don’t leave me, Giselle.” You hear him say and you widen your eyes.

So he was lying when he said that he was over it. You knew he wasn't with the way that he reacted inside the convenience store. You sigh again and furrow your brows before grabbing his hand that was holding onto your wrist and pull his grip away.

You stare at him again and he has a sour expression on his face. You hesitantly poke at his eyebrows to ease them before walking out of your room, leaving him in there. You walk into the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror.

Your eyes were red and your mascara was smeared everywhere. The pink lip tint you applied is now gone due to the oil of the food. You take out a makeup wipe and start removing your makeup, all the while thinking about the man in your room.

You barely met him yet he had you wrapped around his finger. You sighed again for the hundredth time that night. After removing all of your makeup, you brushed your teeth before walking back out into the living room.

You decided to sleep on the other couch. After grabbing another blanket from the closet, you laid down and felt your eyelids getting heavy. Sleep slowly overtaking your body. You closed your eyes and let it devour you, not wanting to think about what just happened in the last 20 minutes.

-

You hear voices coming from next to you and open your eyes. The sun was blaring from the balcony window. Squinting your eyes, you sit up and see that everyone was up besides Jeno.

“Want some breakfast?” Jaemin asks from the kitchen and you slowly nod your head.

Your head was pounding and your mouth felt dry. Last night was the first time in a long time that you’ve drank that much. You tried to swallow some saliva to help quench your thirst but it didn’t help at all. Yunjin and Mina came over to sit next to you on the couch. MIna handed you a glass of water and you softly thanked her.

The water was cooling against your dry mouth and throat. Gulping down the water you slowly looked around.

“Where’s Jeno?” Yunjin asks you and you bring the cup down from your lips.

“He didn’t want to sleep on the couch so I took him to my room and came to sleep out here.” You answer and they nod their head.

“Food’s ready.” Jaemin says and the three of you walk over to the dining table where Mark was setting up plates.

“I’m gonna go wake up Jeno.” You say and walk towards your room.

You slowly opened the door, hoping not to wake him up. He was softly snoring and you observed him again before walking closer to him on your bed. The events of last night flash through your brain and you stop in your tracks. Deciding to not think too much, you walk up to him.

“Jeno.” You say and shake him to wake him up.

He slowly opens his eyes and blinks up at you before sitting up fastly. He looks around the room and notices that he’s in your room. You softly laugh at him and shake your head.

“Jaemin cooked breakfast, go eat.” You say and he slowly nods his head before getting up from your covers.

He grabs his shoes and walks out of your room. You sigh once he's out and lay down on your bed, not even caring that you haven’t washed them after he used it. You stare up at the ceiling for a moment before getting up to change into more comfortable clothes.

You fell asleep in your jeans last night and it was itching your legs. Locking your door, you change into a pair of gray loose sweatpants and a tight white long sleeve that was cropped. You looked for your brown fluffy slippers and put them on before walking back out into the kitchen to eat.

-

It’s been a few days since that day and you haven’t seen Jeno at all. You and Yunjin were watching a movie in the living room when you looked over at her and decided to ask the question you were dying to know the answer to.

“Yunjin?” You call out and she turns to look at you.

“What’s up?” She asks.

“Who did Giselle cheat on Jeno with?” You ask and she makes a confused face.

“How did you know about that?” She asks and you panic. You didn't know if you should tell her about what happened at the convenience store but you do anyway.

“When Jeno and I went to go get alcohol, she was there.” You answer and Yunjin sits up from her position.

“She was here? In Korea?” She asks for clarification and you nod your head yes.

“That bitch.” She says softly and looks away before looking back at you.

“She cheated on him with this guy named Shotaro.” She says and you slowly nod your head.

“DId he love her?” You ask again and Yunjin looks at you confusingly.

“Jeno.” You clarify and Yunjin sighs.

“Yeah, I think he did. But once she broke that trust, it was hard for him to get over it.” She explains and you stay quiet.

“Why are you asking?” She asks and you shake your head.

“I was just curious.” You say and she looks at you with squinted eyes before looking back at the tv.

You sat there in silence, thinking about the information that you just received. You grabbed your phone and looked up the name ‘Shotaro’ on instagram. It wasn’t hard to find him after all, there weren't many Shotaros in the world.

Clicking on the first profile that popped up you looked on his page and saw different posts with girls and guys. One picture in particular caught your eye though. It was a picture of Shotaro, Giselle, and Jeno.

She was standing in the middle with her head on Jeno’s shoulder. You frowned and zoomed in on the picture. Her arms wrapped around both of them but even though her head was on Jeno’s shoulder, Shotaro was standing closer to her than Jeno was.

You looked at the date it was posted, 2021. You zoomed back onto Shotaro’s face. He wasn’t bad looking but he definitely wasn’t as handsome as Jeno was. It seems like Jeno and Shotaro were friends or acquaintances at least.

You clicked on the picture to look at the tag and found Jeno’s account. He had no posts but he had story highlights. You clicked on one and saw Jaemin and Mark along with other guys. Tapping through them you looked at them before it changed to another highlight. You noticed that this one had just him.

There were pictures of him at the gym, him biking, him at parties, and more. Just as you were about to look even more, the doorbell rang. You looked up and saw Yunjin looking at you.

“Are you expecting anybody?” She asks you and you shake your head.

Getting up, you walked over to the front door and opened it. Jeno was standing there in a muscle tee and sweats. His biceps were out for everyone to see and you slowly widened your eyes.

“Jeno? What are you doing here?” You ask and look back to see if Yunjin was watching but she wasn't.

“Can we talk?” He asks and you nod your head before walking out to talk in the hallway.

“What’s up? Are you okay?” You ask and he nods his head.

“Yeah. I just wanted to apologize about the other day.” He says and you scoff slightly.

“It’s okay. You were drunk, don’t even worry about it.” You say and he smiles softly. You look up into his eyes and feel yourself smiling as well.

“Is that all?” You ask and he nods his head.

As you turn to walk back inside he grabs your wrist. “Wait!” He exclaims and you turn back to look at him.

“Um, someone I know is throwing a party tonight. Would you like to go with me?” He asks and you furrow your eyebrows.

“Tonight?” You ask and he nods his head.

“Sure, what time should I expect you to pick me up?” You ask and he smiles softly.

“I’ll be here at 9.” He says and you smile with a nod of your head. You turn to walk inside but before closing the door, you wave to him and he does the same.

“Who was it?” Yunjin asks and you drop your smile.

“Uh, Jeno. He invited me to a party tonight.”

“Oh, it must be Haechan’s party.” She says and you furrow your brows.

“How do you know?” You ask and she shrugs her shoulders.

“Jaemin invited me but I declined because I thought we were hanging out tonight.” She says teasingly and your eyes widen.

“Oh shit. Sorry, I already accepted his invite. I can cancel on him.” You say and Yunjin laughs.

“It’s fine, if you’re going then I’ll go too.” She says and grabs her phone to text Jaemin.

You smile and walk into your bedroom. It was already 5pm and you needed time to get ready. You walked into your closet, hoping to find something to wear. Looking through your tops, you found a black tube top and decided to pair it with a blue denim mini skirt.

You knew it was going to be a bit chilly outside, but you didn’t want to ruin your outfit so you opted for freezing tonight. Laying your outfit down on your bed, you walked towards the vanity mirror and started applying makeup. You knew you wanted it to be subtle but still bold enough to compliment your features.

“Hey, what are you wearing?” Yunjin asks while walking in and looking at the outfit on your bed.

“Oh, this is cute!” She exclaims and grabs your jacket to inspect it closely.

“Well, I was going to wear low rise jeans but I thought the skirt was cuter. What about you? What are you wearing?” You say while applying some lip gloss.

You turn towards her and see her in a green mini skirt with a white top. You smile and nod your head yes. “Oh hell yeah! You look hot as fuck.” You say and walk closer to her to look closely at her outfit. She smiles and does a quick turn while posing like models do. You laugh and gently hit her shoulder.

“Is Jaemin picking you up?” You ask and she shakes her head no.

“We usually uber since we both drink but Haechan’s place is really close so we usually just walk.” She says and you nod your head.

“I think he’s coming with Jeno so the four of us will probably just walk together.” She says and walks into your bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. You walk back over to your vanity table and finish getting ready. You finished curling the last strand of hair when the doorbell rang. You hear Yunjin going to open the door and quickly look at yourself in the mirror before grabbing your black platform boots.

As you were putting them on, there was a knock on your door. “Come in!” You yell and the door opens revealing Jeno.

“Hey.” You softly say and smile at him.

He stays near the door, mesmerized by you. Your outfit, your hair, your makeup, everything was so beautiful. He slightly clears his throat before looking away and greets you as well.

“You look beautiful." He says and you shyly smile.

“Thank you.” You say and finally look up to get a glimpse of his outfit for tonight.

He was wearing a purple and black striped shirt with black ripped jeans. His signature leather jacket was draped over his shoulders. His jewelry completed the look. He had the same rings adorning his fingers and you slightly felt a chill run up your spine, remembering the way they felt under your chin. His jet black hair was styled properly this time, showcasing his forehead. You slightly blush and get up to grab your bag. Slipping it over your shoulder, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time.

You turn to Jeno and smile while gesturing for him to leave first so you could close your door. The both of you walked towards the living room so that you guys could all leave. Yunjin and Jaemin were the first ones out of the door and you stayed behind to lock the door. Feeling a sense of deja vu when you see that Jeno was waiting for you.

“Is Giselle going to be there?” You ask Jeno who shakes his head.

“I don’t know. I hope not.” He replies and you nod your head before trailing behind Jaemin and Yunjin who were joined at the hip.

“I think I have a new favorite song from Cigarettes After Sex.” He says and you turn to look at him while walking.

“Really? What song?” You ask curiously and he slightly chuckles.

“Sunsetz.” He says and you gently laugh while pushing him away from you.

“You’re such a follower.” You joke and he laughs before walking close to you again.

The both of you continued small talk while walking to Haechan’s house. Your hands slightly bump into each other since you were walking so closely to each other. Your cheeks flushed every time your hand accidentally brushed against his.

-

As the night went on and more people came you lost sight of your friends. Sighing, you lean your back against a wall and take a sip out of the nasty concoction that was made by Haechan himself. Suddenly you felt someone come stand next to you. You turn to look at the person when you notice how familiar he looked.

“Hi, I’m Shotaro. What’s your name?” You gape at the person in front of you. He was the guy Giselle cheated on Jeno with. You slightly smile awkwardly and give him your name.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He says and you slightly back away from him to put some distance with a fake smile plastered on your face.

“I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new here?” He asks and you nod your head.

“I’m here for college.” You reply dryly and he smiles at you.

You hated to admit that he was an attractive man but you couldn’t do that to Jeno. The two of you just stood there in silence looking at each other.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jeno stared from across the room. His hand clenched onto his cup while his tongue poked his cheek. Why the fuck was Shotaro talking to you? And why was he standing so fucking close to you?

Hachan sluggishly wrapped his arm around his friend and laughed. “What’s got you so pissy?”

Jeno huffed and pushed his arm off of him. Haechan follows his gaze and sees Shotaro. Furrowing his brows he straightens up and turns to Jeno.

“I didn’t know he was back.” He says and puts his hand on Jeno’s shoulder.

Seeing enough, Jeno removes Hacehan’s hand from his shoulder and gulps the last of his drink before throwing the cup on the floor. His eyes stayed on Shoitao the whole time he was making his way over to you two.

“Do you want to dance?” Shotaro asks and holds his hand out. Before you could even answer a hand pushes him away.

You look up and see Jeno standing next to you. His nostrils were flared and his eyes were abnormally cold. Glaring at the man in front of him while Shotaro just chuckles.

“Jeno Lee.” He says and smiles while looking straight back at him.

Jeno didn’t reply, he just glared at the guy in front of him before grabbing your hand. As he turned to get the both of you away from him you felt Shotaro pull on your other arm.

“Hey, we were talking!” Shotaro yells and Jeno turns quickly to look at him.

“Let go of her.” He says through clenched teeth and Shotaro just smirks.

He slowly lets go of your arm and continues smirking while Jeno keeps his eyes on him. You slightly tap Jeno’s shoulder, signaling for the both of you to leave. He softly looks back at you and the both of you walk back over to where the rest of his friends were.

“Why were you talking to him?” Jeno snapped and you turned to look at him.

“He came up to me, what was I supposed to do? Ignore him?” You sass back and Jeno just sighs.

“Do you know who he is?” He asks, never letting go of your hand.

Of course you knew who he was but you didn’t want to admit to stalking their Instagram pages so you shake your head no. He sighs and pulls you towards the kitchen counter. Your back hits against it and you let out a soft yelp from the pain.

Jeno steps in front of you, keeping you trapped between his own body and the counter. His taller frame towering over you and you felt a little shy looking into his eyes. You avert your eyes and look down but Jeno grabs your chin to make you look him straight in the eye. Your lashes flutter against your eyes and he softly chuckles.

He leans down so he could whisper in your ear. You freeze up because he was too close to you. His necklace dangling onto your shoulder and the cool metal against your bare shoulder makes your cheeks flush again.

“You’re cute.” He says and you softly giggle.

You can feel your heart rate going up. Trying to calm it down, you inhale a short breath but Jeno catches it. He can feel your heart pounding against his chest and he softly chuckles.

“Do I make you nervous?” He asks and you quickly shake your head no.

He pulls away from your ear and looks at you again with a smirk.

“You sure?” He whispers, leaning closer to your face.

You could feel his breath hitting in your face and it makes you back away a little bit. You didn’t get too far because his hand goes around your waist, pulling you right up against his body. The alcohol in your system and the closeness of your bodies make you start to sweat a bit. It was too hot in here, you needed to get some fresh air.

“I need to- I need to get some air.” You say quietly for him to hear and he smirks while letting go of you.

You huff out a breath and step away from him. You walk towards the sliding door and feel the cool breeze against your skin. Your heart is racing a million beats per minute. You slowly bring your hands to your cheeks and feel how hot they are.

Shaking your head, you try to calm yourself down but a touch on your shoulder scares you. You jump away from the contact and turn around to see Yunjin and Mina there.

“Oh, hi.” You say softly and they both look at you.

“Are you okay?” Mina asks and they both walk closer to you.

“Yeah. I just needed to get some air.” You reply and they both nod their head.

“We saw Shotaro trying to talk to you.” Yunjin says and you sigh.

“Yeah, it was awkward.” You say and inhale a sharp breath.

“Was Jeno friends with him?” You ask and they both look at each other before looking back at you.

“They were very close in high school because they were both in dance club.” Yunjin says and you nod your head again.

“Come on, let’s go drink.” Mina says and wraps her arm around your arm with Yunjin doing the same.

The three of you walk back into the house and walk to the kitchen where the rest of the guys were at. You quickly catch Jeno’s eye and he smirks at you. You shyly smile at him before walking with the girls to the other side of the counter.

You were across from Jeno but you tried not to look at him. Instead, you kept your eyes on Renjun, who was pouring the shots. He passed out the shot cups and you shyly thanked him before grabbing it from him.

The eight of you cheered and clicked your shot cups against each other before downing the shrink. The alcohol was burning your throat and you let out a sour look after swallowing it down.

“That’s nasty.” You say and Renjun laughs.

“It’s Bicardi.” He says and lifts up the bottle to show you.

“It tastes like shit.” You say and Hachan screams.

“Don’t say that about my baby.” Haechan says and grabs the bottle to pat it.

“Don’t worry, she didn't mean that.” He says and you laugh at him.

Jeno kept his eyes on you the whole time. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system or maybe it was his dirty mind that wanted to corrupt you. You seemed so innocent to him, with your sparkling eyes, your skirt riding up so high that he could basically see your panties but you didn’t even notice.

You stupid perfect lips that curl up so sweetly when you smile. Your hair that looked so soft, your belly button piercing that always adds fuel to the boner he was already springing. He was imagining all sorts of things.

His necklaces dangling in front of your face as he pushes himself into you. Your belly button piercing that would glimmer so bright as he was on top of you.

“Jeno!” Renjun’s voice snaps him away from his thoughts. He looks over at his friend who has a knowing smile on his face.

“She’s pretty cute right?” Renjun says and laughs softly when Jeno looks back at you.

“Shut up.” He grumbles and pushes Renjun away slightly who laughs at his friend.

You felt your head spinning and decided that you had enough to drink. You sat down on the counter to keep your body from falling down. You close your eyes to help your headache when you feel a presence in front of you. Opening your eyes, you see Jeno in front of you again.

‘You okay, princess?” He asks and you nod your head.

“Yeah, I just need to calm down a bit.” You say and he nods his head. His hands come to rest on the counter, trapping you again.

Your belly button piercing was on full display for him, the butterfly charm draws him in. He reaches down to play with your piercing and you giggle at his actions.

“It tickles.” You softly say and try to wriggle from his hands but he softly laughs and places his other hand on your waist to keep you from moving.

Feeling bold, you grab his necklace and pull him in closer to inspect it. You smooth your fingers over the cross and he smiles softly watching you. His fingers never leaving your belly button piercing either. You look up into his eyes and smile softly.

“What?” You softly say and he shakes his head.

His eyes formed into those cute little crescent moons. This man was going to be the death of you. You let go of his necklace and sigh.

“My butt hurts.” You say and he softly chuckles again.

He lets go of your piercing and holds his hand out. You take his hand in yours and jump off the counter. You go to grab your bag but he grabs it for you and holds it with his other hand while leading you to the couch.

The smell of marijuana was piercing and your nose scrunched up at the smell. Jaemin was smoking a blunt with Yunjin on his lap. He blew the smoke out away from his girlfriend before passing it to Hachan. Jeno sits down on the couch and pulls you onto him.

You yelp when your butt lands on his thighs. Everyone was lost in conversation and you were lost in your thoughts. Mark passes the blunt to Jeno who takes a drag before blowing it away from your face. You look at him as he takes another hit.

“Wanna try, princess?” He asks and holds out the blunt to you.

You shake your head no and he shrugs his shoulders before passing it back to Mark. Jeno’s hands were wrapped around your waist and he pulled you in closer. His chin resting on your shoulders as he closes his eyes.

You smile softly and place your hands against his. You grab one of them and start playing with one of the many rings he has on. Jeno opens his eyes and watches as you get lost looking and playing with his rings. You shyly smile at him and go back to looking at his rings when a figure catches your eye.

Giselle was walking over and you quietly tapped Jeno’s arm to signal him. He opens his eyes and lets out a soft hum. He looks up and sees her in front of the both of you. The conversation died down as everyone looked at her.

“Can I get a hit?” She asks, looking Jeno straight in the eye. He sits up and squeezes your waist tighter.

“It’s not mine, don’t ask me.” He says and looks at Jaemin.

Jaemin shrugs his shoulders and hands out the blunt to her. She smiles and sits down next to Jeno and you. You roll your eyes at her and go to stand up but Jeno’s hold on you gets tighter. You turn to look at him but he shakes head. He places his chin back onto your shoulder.

“I’m comfortable.” He whispers in your ear and you giggle softly while he laughs.

Giselle looks at you two with a nasty look before hitting the blunt again. Yunjin and Mina look at each other with a roll of their eyes.

“What’s your name?” Giselle asks, looking straight at you. You turn to look at her and plaster a fake smile.

“Yn.” You say and she softly laughs.

“You don’t smoke?” She asks again and you shake your head no.

“Oh, I thought you did because Jeno likes girls who smoke.” She says with a raise of her eyebrows.

You know she’s trying to rile you up and you hate that it’s working. Jeno sighs and opens his eyes to look at her again. He releases you from his grasp and you take that as a sign to get up from his hold.

“Let’s go.” He says and grabs your hand in his again. You shyly take it and look at Yunjin who gets up as well.

“This was fun Hyuck, but I think it’s time for us to go.” She says and holds onto Jaemin as he gets up too.

You wave bye to everyone and walk out of the house with Jeno, Yunin, and Jaemin. Giselle gals at your figure disappearing and scoffs.

“It was just a joke, jeez. What’s their problem?” She asks and takes another hit of the blunt.

Mina scowls at her as she gets up to leave with Mark.

‘You know what the problem is, bitch.” She says angrily and the two of them walk off.

You and Jeno were walking into the direction of your apartment. The chilly air was blowing against your skin and you shiver. He notices and stops walking to take his jacket off. He places them around your shoulders and smiles at you.

You thank him and he grabs your hand to continue the walk. Unbeknownst to you both Jaemin was taking pictures of you two with a big grin on his face.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Yunjin says softly with a giggle and pushes his hand away.

He laughs and puts his phone back into his pocket before grabbing her hand. The four of you finally made it to your guys' shared apartment. Jeno walked you to your room and sat you down on your bed. He kneels down to take your boots off. Your head was pounding so hard you lay down against your pillows.

After he was finished he looked at you fast asleep on your bed. He smiles softly and bends down. He places a quick kiss to your head and whispers a soft “Good night.” before walking out of your room.

“You good to drive?” Jaemin asks and he nods his head.

He takes the keys from Jaemin and the both of them walk out of the apartment to head back to their dorm. Jaemin noticed the way Jeno's lips curved up into a smile. He noticed the way Jeno’s eyes lit up every time he looked at you. He noticed lots of things in his friend that he hasn’t seen in a long time. He smiles softly at his friend who continues the drive home.

-

You woke up the next morning, still in your clothes from last night and your makeup half rubbed off. You walk over to the bathroom to remove your makeup and shower when you notice Jeno’s jacket around you. You smile and go to grab your phone.

you left your jacket - princess

i left it on purpose ;) - Jeno Lee

You smile and heart his message before getting ready to remove your makeup.

-

It’s been a week since you started classes and safe to say, you were not expecting that much work within the first week. It was finally Friday and you just got back to your apartment. Yunjin didn’t have any classes today so she was already home.

“Are you done packing already?” You ask as you walk into her room.

“Yeah. Are you?” She asks and you shake your head no.

Jaemin had a beach house and he invited you all over for the weekend to destress from the first week of school.

“I’m too tired to pack.” You say and she laughs. “Well you better hurry up, They’re meeting here at 2.” She says and you groan.

“That’s in like 2 hours.” You say and she nods her head.

“Yeah, so hurry up. Princess.” She teases you and you hit her gently.

“Shut up! Don’t call me that.” You say laughing and she laughs as well.

“Just go pack.” She says and you laugh before walking to your room to pack for the weekend.

You were only going to be gone until Sunday so you packed 2 bikinis, a few pairs of jeans and sweats, and a few baby cropped tees. You walk over to your undergarments drawer when Jeno’s leather jacket catches your eye.

You smile thinking about the memory last weekend and walk up to it. You grab it and fold it up to put in your bag so you could give it back to him. You tried to give it back to him earlier but he kept trying to push it off, claiming that he had other ones to wear.

You place it into your bag and grab new undergarments to pack. Lastly, you packed your makeup and skincare into a smaller bag and placed it into your duffel bag. After zipping it up you change into comfortable clothes.

You changed into your black one piece spandex and grabbed a white cropped sweater that falls off your left shoulder perfectly. You put a pair of fuzzy white socks on and slipped your feet into your UGG platform slippers. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you smiled before grabbing your bag and walking out into the living room.

You had makeup on already from school so you just touched it up a little bit. You wanted to look cute since you were going to be riding with Jeno. Jaemin and Yunjin were taking Mark and Mina, while Haechan and Renjun brought along their other two friends.

“They’re here.” Yunjin says and you grab your bag and place the strap around your right shoulder.

“Let’s go!” You say and walk out of the apartment first. Yunjin locked up the apartment before following you down to where everyone else was.

You notice Jeno’s black 2023 Mercedes Benz C-Class first. You smile and wave at him as he opens the trunk and grabs your bag from you. You open up your bag and pull his jacket out from it and hand it to him.

He smiles and takes the jacket from you and places it in his trunk as well. He closes the trunk and you walk over to the passenger side door and get inside the car. He gets in the car as well and waits for Jaemin to take off first.

“Are you excited?” He asks and you squeal.

“Yes! I need a break from school.” You say and he laughs.

“It’s barely been a week.” He says and you giggle.

“Yeah but the classes are so hard.” You say and he softly laughs.

“Who’s coming with Haechan and Renjun?” You ask and he looks over at you.

“Our other friends, you haven’t met them yet. Their names are Chenle and Jisung. They’re a bit younger than us.” He says and you nod your head.

He pulls out something from the back seat and gives it to you. It’s a small velvet box. Furrowing your eyebrows you look at him.

“What is it?” You ask softly and giggle.

“Just open it.” He says and you do as he says.

Inside was a thick metal ring adorned with jewels. It was the same one he had on middle finger. You gasp and pull it out from the box, bringing it closer to you so you can inspect it.

“You liked playing with mine so much, I figured I’d just buy you one." He says sheepishly and you smile at him.

“Oh my god, Jeno! It’s so beautiful, thank you.” You say and slip it on your middle finger on your left hand, exactly where it was on Jeno’s finger.

You lift your hand to show him and he laughs at the placement of your ring. Excitedly, you take out your phone and grab his hand to place yours on top. Snapping a quick picture of your guys hands together with the rings on display. You smile in satisfaction and show him.

“Send it to me.” He says and smiles.

You nod your head and quickly pull up his contact to send the picture to him. He looks over at your phone and sees his contact saved as ‘Jeno Lee.’ He scoffs and grabs your phone from your hands.

“Hey!” You exclaim and try to get it back but he pushes your hand away.

He changes his name to ‘jen’ and saves it before handing your phone back to you. You laugh once you see his contact name and look at him.

“What’s my name saved as?” You ask with a smile on your face.

He pulls out his phone and goes to your contact before turning his phone around and showing you. You stare at the ‘princess’ and laugh, pushing his shoulder away.

“You’re annoying.” You say and he laughs before charging his phone.

“You got your nails done?” He asks, grabbing your hands to inspect your nails closely.

You recently got them done with Yunjin and Mina. They were a nude pink color with glitter and charms adorned around them. You nod your head as he plays with the butterfly charm on your middle finger.

“I wanted to make them pretty.” You say and he softly laughs.

You look out the window and notice Jaemin’s car leaving. Jeno lets go of your hand and puts his car in reverse to follow them.

“Can you GPS the way just in case we get separated?” He asks and you nod your head before grabbing his phone.

“Password?” You ask and he quickly says the password code before you click on the group chat with the 10 of you.

You click on the address that Jaemin sent earlier this week and it starts showing the map on Jeno’s dashboard. You swipe out of the app and go to his Spotify. You look through his playlist and find one titled ‘Princess.’ Smiling, you click on it and see that it’s all Cigarettes After Sex songs. You click on ‘Sunsetz’ and the song begins to play. Jeno lets out a laugh at the song choice and shakes his head.

-

After a two hour car ride, you and Jeno finally arrive at the house. Jeno parks his car and you undo your seatbelt. Stepping out of the car, you walk towards the trunk and grab your bag. He follows you and grabs his bag as well.

The two of you walk inside the beach house and notice how big it was. It was squeaky clean like a brand new house. You walk through the house, looking in awe at how beautiful it was. After you finished looking at it, everyone was gathered in the living room.

“So there’s 5 rooms, everyone is going to have to share a room.” Jaemin says and grabs his girlfriend’s hand.

“Me and Yunjin, Mark and Mina, Jeno and Yn, Haechan and Renjun, and Jisung and Chenle.” Jaemin finishes and everyone nods their head in agreement.

“Every room is available besides the master bedroom, that’s where Yunjin and I will sleep.” He says and you and Jeno rush to get the best room.

You open the door and squeal when you look inside. There was a beautiful balcony with a view of the beach right outside. You were in awe of the balcony that you barely noticed the one bed but when you did your eyes widened.

You’re sharing one bed with Jeno. You look over to him and he laughs at your expression. He walks over to you and looks out the window with a smirk.

“Don’t worry, I’ll behave.” He says and walks to the bed to set his bag down. You awkwardly laugh and play it off.

“I’m not worried at all.” You say and shake your head.

Jeno raises his eyebrows at your lie and smirks before sitting on the bed. You go to place your bag on the bed as well when Jeno grabs your wrist and pulls you down onto the bed. His body hovering over yours causing his necklaces to dangle in front of you.

You eyes widen and you try to get up from his grasp but he pins your arms down above your head. He smirks and laughs at you before getting up and letting go of you.

“Not worried at all, my ass.” He says and chuckles. You sit up and huff at him.

“Shut up. You just caught me off guard.” You lie again.

He lets out an amused smile and nods his head knowing the truth. You get up to unzip your bag and grab your makeup bag to put on the desk table in the corner of the room. After doing that, you walk out into the kitchen to help Mina and Yunjin prepare the meat so Jamein can barbecue it.

Jeno sat on the bed and pulled his phone out. He looks at the photo you sent him and stares at it for a second before saving it and going to Instagram. He clicks on the photo and puts ‘Sunsetz’ as the music background before posting it.

He smiles looking at the finished product and turns his phone off before joining the rest of you guys in the kitchen. He can hear your laugh and it brings a smile to his face again. He walks outside and over to Jaemin who's preparing the grill and helps him.

You were washing the rice when Yunjin let out a gasp. You and Mina turn to look at her and she squeals before showing her phone to you guys. The picture that you just took earlier today blaring through her phone. You widen your eyes and clear your throat.

“That’s you right?” Mina asks while looking at you with a shocked face.

“No.” You shake your head and try to lie but the two of them smirk.

“Yn, we all got our nails done together.” Yunjin says and grabs your left hand to match the nails and the ring to the picture.

“Oh my god! Are you guys dating?” Mina asks excitingly and you shake your head.

“No we aren’t. I don’t even know what we are.” You say and Yunjin pouts at your words.

“Do you like him?” She asks and you sigh before nodding your head.

“But, I know that he’s not over whatever happened with Giselle so it’s impossible.” You say placing the bowl into the rice cooker.

Mina and Yunjin pout before walking over to you. They both hug you to comfort you and you smile at them.

“I’m okay, I promise.” You say and the two of them look at each other before looking back at you. They let go of you and the three of you continue to prepare the food.

After Jaemin finished grilling the meat, everyone was sitting outside enjoying the food and the weather. You were sitting in between Mina and Jeno. The latter’s Instagram story is still reeling in your mind. Why did he even post that? What was he trying to do when he posted it? 

You looked over at him laughing along to something Haechan said, you didn’t bother to pay attention to the conversation. Jaemin must’ve caught you staring because next thing you know you feel a kick on your leg. 

You looked across to him and he smiled while raising his eyebrows teasingly. You shake your head and laugh. 

“I just spaced out.” You say, trying to defend yourself. 

“Sure you did.” Jaemin teases and you flip him off jokingly. 

The conversations continue until Haechan screams and runs away from Jeno who's chasing him. You laugh at them and sip on your water. Setting the glass down, you start playing with the ring on your middle finger. Twisting it around to help distract yourself.

“That’s a nice ring.” Mark says with a smirk.  

“Oh, thanks. It was a gift.” You say and smile while he slightly laughs. 

“From who?” He asks again, leaning closer to get a good look at you. 

“Um, I forgot.” You lie and take a sip of your water. 

Mark laughs at you again and goes to say something but Mina nudging him makes him stop talking. You slightly scoff and go back to eating when Jeno sits back down. He goes to grab his glass of water but it’s empty. 

He looks over at yours and grabs it before drinking out from it. He sets the glass back down where it was and smiles at you. You don’t say anything as you continue to eat the meat that Jaemin barbequed. 

As everyone finished eating, you started cleaning up along with Mina and Yunjin. You gathered up the dirty plates and put them in the sink while the other two went to retrieve more dirty dishes. You started washing the dishes when Jaemin came over to help you. 

“Oh, it’s okay Jaemin. I got it.” You say and he waves off your comment. 

“It’s fine.” He says and starts rinsing the soapy dishes.

“Anything you wanna talk about?” You ask, hoping to ease the conversation. 

“Not really.” He says while looking at you causing you to laugh slightly. 

“How do you like the friend group so far?” He asks. 

“Oh, you guys are really fun. It’s very different from my friend group back at home." You say and continue to wash the dishes. 

“How so?” Jaemin inquires. 

“Well, for starters there’s not a lot of us in the friend group. There’s only four of us and we didn’t really hang out with guys. I mean, we did, but they weren’t part of our immediate friend group.” You explain and he nods. 

“Do you ever miss home?” He asks and you sigh quietly. 

“I do. But, at the same time it’s good to have new experiences so I’m really glad I came over here for college.” You say with a smile. 

“I see why Yunjin likes you so much.” Jaemin says and laughs. 

“What do you mean?” You ask and laugh as well. 

“You guys are just so alike. You always want to see the good in things, even in people.” He says and you laugh again. 

“Like you?” You tease and he glares at you playfully. 

“I wasn't that bad.” He defends and you laugh. 

“Yeah right. You turned from this playboy who slept around to being in a fully committed relationship.” You say and he shrugs his shoulders. 

“Maybe I was just waiting for the right person to come along.” He says and looks over at you. You just nod your head at his answer and he almost groans in frustration.

How could you not understand that he was also talking about you and Jeno. You both were the most dense people he’s ever met. Of course he and his girlfriend gossip about you guys- you’re her roommate and Jeno’s his best friend for Christ's sake. 

He knew you liked his friend, Yunjin told him. And, he knew that his friend liked you as well, even if he didn’t want to admit it. The way that Jeno acted around you was different than how he was around any other girl, even Giselle. 

Jeno cares for you in more ways than one. Like when he gave you his jacket, or when he was holding your hand, or protecting you from Giselle, or buying you a ring, or posting you on his public social media account for goodness sakes. 

After finishing up the dishes, you changed into your bikini to go swimming in the pool. Walking out onto the deck you placed your towel on the chair before jumping into the water. The coolness of it relaxes your tense body. 

You swam alone for about five minutes until you heard the door open and close. Looking over, you find Jeno walking towards the pool in nothing but his black swimming trunks - matching your black bikini. You smile slightly and continue swimming when he gets in. 

“Didn’t find you in the room.” He says and you laugh. 

“I just wanted to clear my mind a bit.” You reply while swimming to him. 

“Something wrong?” He asks and you shake your head immediately. 

“No, nothing’s wrong.” You say and he stares at you. 

He knows that you’re lying, whenever you lie you always avert your eyes and press your lips together. He walks closer to you and backs you up against the wall of the pool. 

“Jeno.” You softly say but he cuts you off by placing his hands around your thighs. 

You whimper quietly as he places your legs around his waist. His dark eyes staring abc into yours and you have to bite your tongue to not release a moan. 

“Jeno.” You say quietly and he brings his face closer to you. 

“Hm?” He asks and you try to avert your eyes but he stops you. 

“Look at me.” He says and you listen to him. 

You look into his eyes and say nothing. He leans down further and starts pressing butterfly kisses on your neck. You let out a soft whimper before biting your lip. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He says before kissing your neck again. He makes his way up to your jaw and starts placing kisses there as well. 

You grip his shoulders tightly as you try to answer him but you couldn’t think of any words. Your mind was hazy, trying to tell him what was bothering you. You let another whimper when he harshly sucks on your neck, leaving a mark there. He pulls back and smiles devilishly at the mark he left before placing one last kiss on it. 

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll stop.” He says and you whimper again while shaking your head. 

“I can’t- I can’t concentrate if you do that.” You admit and he softly chuckles. 

He pulls back fully and looks into your eyes, his eyes begging for you to answer him. With a sigh, you look away from him and close your eyes before opening them and speaking. 

“What are we?” You ask and he furrows his brows. 

“What do you mean?” He asks for clarification. 

“I mean what are we? Why are you buying me gifts and acting like you’re my boyfriend when you’re not.” You say and feel your eyes getting teary. 

“I don’t like feeling like this Jeno. I don’t like feeling like the second option.” You say and he puts your legs down to hold your waist and bring you closer. 

“What do you mean it feels like a second choice?” He asks and you sigh again. 

“The first night we met and you slept in my room. You called me Giselle and begged for me to not leave you.” You admit and sniffle. 

Jeno shushes you and brings your head into his chest. After you calmed down a bit, he pulled back and looked at you again. 

“I promise, I’m over her. I don’t know why I said that, it was probably because Jaemin asked me about the situation and seeing her again… it was just too much for me.” He explains and cups your face into his hands. 

“I would never hurt you, princess.” He says and you whimper at the pet name. He chuckles at your response and brings his face closer to yours. 

“Can I kiss you.” 

You nod your head and that’s all Jeno needs before he crashes his lips onto yours. His lips were soft and tasted like mint. You followed his rhythm while wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands go lower to your butt and cups them, earning a moan from you. 

He smiles at the sound and pulls away from you to place kisses on your neck once again. “Jeno.” You moan his name, and he smiles into your neck. 

He smiles at the sound and pulls away from you to place kisses on your neck once again. “Jeno.” You moan his name and he smiles into your neck. 

“We should head inside.” You say unwrapping yourself from him. 

He nods his head at your suggestion and lets go of your waist. You slowly back away from him and smile shyly before turning around to walk out of the pool. He stares at your ass as you walk out and lets out a groan. 

“Do you have to look so hot walking out of the pool?” He retorts to you and you turn to flip him off jokingly before grabbing your towel and wrapping it around your body. 

He steps out of the pool as well and grabs his towel. You wait for him to dry himself off before the two of you walk back inside the house. A shy smile adorned your face the whole time. You still didn’t know what you and Jeno were, but at least you knew that he was completely over Giselle. 

You walk into your room and grab your skincare as well as a change of clothes before heading to the bathroom to shower. Slowly, you took off your clothes and stepped into the shower. The hot water burns your skin but that’s how you liked your showers. 

You lathered your rose scented shampoo into your hands before thoroughly applying it into your hair. You couldn’t help but think about what just happened. Your heart was bursting just remembering the kiss. You felt like a teenage girl experiencing some kind of first love. 

You softly giggled at your thoughts as you finished your shower. Stepping out of the tub, you reached over to a new towel to dry your body and apply some moisturizer on your face. As you rubbed the moisturizer between your hands, you glanced at the ring on your middle finger and smiled again. 

After changing into your pajamas (a pair of blue loose sweats and a white cropped tank top), you blow dried your hair. Once you were done, you walked out of the bathroom and into your shared room with Jeno. He was laying on the bed, having finished his shower earlier than you. 

He smiled and watched as you put your things away. He shuts off his phone and places it on the nightstand next to where he’s sleeping. You walk over to the bed and lift the covers up so you could slide in next to him. 

“Hi.” You softly say to him and he shortly laughs before greeting you back. 

“How was your shower?” He asks and you snuggle into the pillow. 

“It was relaxing, how was yours?” He turns his body to face you. 

“Good, I feel clean.” He replies and you stare into his eyes. 

Hesitantly, you bring your pointer finger up and trace his facial features. You traced over his eyebrows and nose before making your way to his mole under his eye. He laughs and his eyes turn into those little crescent moons that you love so much. 

“I love your eyes.” You say and trace over his eyelashes. 

“I like when they turn into moons when you smile.” You say and he laughs before grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest. 

You can feel his heartbeat, it was speeding up. You chuckle softly and look at him with your eyebrows raised. 

“My heart does that every time I think about you.” He softly says and you nuzzle your face into your pillow, getting shy. 

“Stop it.” You say and giggle. 

‘It’s the truth.” He says and brings your hand to his lips. 

He places a chaste kiss onto the back of your hand before placing it back onto his chest. 

“When we get back home, would you like to go on a date with me?” He asks, staring straight into your eyes. 

You nod your head and your lips curl up into a smile. “I would love to.” 

You lift your head up from the pillow and Jeno opens his arms to let you embrace him. His arms wrap securely around your figure and he sighs in content. 

“Goodnight, Jen.” You say to him and nuzzle in closer to his body. 

“Sweet dreams, princess.” He says and places a quick kiss onto your head before nuzzling into it. 

The both of you stay in that position all night long. His heartbeat and touch brought a sense of comfort to you and you didn’t ever want to let go of that feeling. Meanwhile, the boy next you was feeling the exact same way. 

-

Jeno wakes up the next morning reaching for your body only to be disappointed when he opens his eyes and realizes you’re not there. He rubs the sleepiness from his eyes and gets out of bed. 

Making his way to the kitchen, he’s greeted by the sight of you cutting up some fruit. You were so focused on cutting the watermelon that you didn’t hear him approach you. You slightly panic when you feel arms wrap around you from behind but once you recognize the rings, you instantly smile. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” You say to him and he grumbles in response. 

He places his chin on your shoulder and looks over at the watermelon that you’re currently cutting up. 

“That looks good." He comments and you giggle softly. 

“Do you want a piece?” You softly ask and feel his head nod on your shoulder. 

You grab a piece that you’ve already cut up and raise it to his lips. He opens up and eats the fruit from your hands. 

“Yummy?” You ask and he nods his head again in response. 

The conversation dies down after that. Occasionally, you would feed him pieces of fruit while he gladly ate them. Once you cut up enough fruit for all of you guys to enjoy, you turn around in his embrace to look at him. 

He smiles at you and leans in closer. He closes his eyes, going in for a kiss but you’re quicker. You shove a piece of strawberry into his mouth and he grumbles. 

“Someone might walk in.” You say softly and he shakes his head. 

“I don’t care. Let them see.” He says and leans in again. 

You shriek and escape from his grasp with the bowl of fruit in your hands. 

“Go wash up.” You tell him and he grumbles softly before walking into the bathroom. 

Today, you were all going to the beach and having a bonfire night. You put sunscreen, sunglasses and two towels in your bag, one for you and one for Jeno. After packing up the bag, you walk over to your duffel bag and pull out your baby pink bikini. 

After changing into it, your hickey was on display for everyone to see, so you looked into your bag for an oversized shirt. Jeno walks in just at that moment and whistles at you. You stand up from where you’re bending over and roll your eyes at him. 

“What are you looking for, princess?” He walks closer to you and you sigh. 

“I’m looking for an oversize shirt to wear over my bikini, but I don’t think I packed any.” You pout and he laughs before unzipping his duffel bag. 

He digs through his bag and pulls out a gray t-shirt. He looks at it for a second before walking over you and handing it to you. 

“Here you go.” He says and smiles when you grab it. 

You slip it on and look at yourself in the mirror. His shirt barely covered your ass but at least you were more covered than before. 

“Thanks, Jen.” You say and turn to place a quick kiss on his cheek which makes him blush. 

He waits for you to grab your bag before holding his hand out for you. You take his hand in yours and the both of you walk to the beach, catching up with the rest of your friends. 

-

You were sitting on the big beach towel with Mina and Yunjin and catching up on last night’s events. 

“I knew it!” Yunjin squeals and pulls you into her embrace. 

You laugh and pat her back while observing the boys play in the water. Haechan was on Mark’s shoulder, Chenle on Jeno’s, and Jisung on Jaemin’s while Renjun was the referee. They were playing chicken fight and trying to knock each other off. 

You grabbed your phone and quickly took photos of Jeno just for you to keep before taking pictures of the three of you. After spending about 3 hours in the sun, you all agreed that it was time to go back to the house. 

Once everyone was back, they all went to their separate rooms, tired from their beach day. You quickly washed your feet before slipping into bed with Jeno for a nap. Jeno’s arms were around you and he had that devilish smirk he always has on. 

He sits up and lays on top of you, his necklace dangling over you. He slides his shirt over his head and  you widen your eyes and try to stop him but he pins your hands above your head. He leans in and starts placing kisses on your jaw before going lower. 

You softly moan and try to break free from his grip, wanting to touch him. He slightly chuckles before releasing your hands. Instantly, they travel to his hair and you slightly pull on it. He sucks particularly hard on your soft spot and you let out a loud moan. 

“Quiet, princess. We don’t want everyone hearing you do we?” He says to you with his head tilted as if he was mocking you. 

You whimper and bite your bottom lip to keep the noises from coming out. His hands teasingly run up and down the sides of your torso. 

“Jeno.” You softly whisper and he chuckles. 

“I know, baby. You gotta be patient okay? Can you do that for me?” He asks, looking into your eyes and you nod your head. 

“Good girl.” He says and his fingers slowly go towards the waistband of your shorts. 

Your belly button piercing on display for him to see and he groans at the sight of it glimmering underneath him. He pushes his fingers against your core teasingly which draws out a whimper from you. 

“Take it off please.” You beg and he almost cums at how whiny you sound. He slowly pulls your shorts down and sees the growing wet spot on your pink lacy panties. 

“You’re such a slut.” He degrades and you whine from his usage of words. 

“M’ not.” You defend and writhe underneath him. 

“No?” He asks teasingly before sliding a finger in between your folds through your panties. 

“Jeno.” You moan loudly at the contact and he brings his hands over your lips to muffle the noises. 

“Quiet baby.” He says and removes his hands from your mouth while leaning into your neck. 

‘You’re so wet, princess. Who are you so wet for huh?” He asks while sliding your panties down to your thighs. 

Your glistening folds make his dick grow even more and he can’t help himself. He slides his finger through your folds teasingly as you try to contain your moans. Your hands go around to his back and grip him tightly. He slips a finger into your hole and you squeeze your eyes shut. 

You moan loudly at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, not answering his question. Jeno groans at your lack of answering and rips your panties off your body. You gasp as you hear the tearing of fabric.

“Jeno! Those were my favorite.” You say and he darkly chuckles. 

He moves one of his hands from your waist to your neck. His grip tightens and you gasp at the feeling of your airway being blocked. 

“You answer me when I ask you a question, princess.” He says seductively and stops pumping his fingers into you.

You whine at the loss of friction and he squints his eyes at you before pulling out completely. 

“No.” You quietly whimper out and Jeno tightens his grip around your neck even more. 

“Answer me.” He growls and you can feel your heat getting wetter. 

“You!” You say, trying your best to get the words out. 

He smirks and brings his lips back onto yours. His grip gets even tighter making you feel light headed from the loss of oxygen. He slowly lets go of your neck and pushes his finger into your heat again. You moan into his lips and he feels his cock getting harder. 

He pushes in another finger and you moan into his ear. “Jeno please!” You beg and he laughs cockily at you. He kisses your cheek before moving to your ear. 

“Please what, princess? What do you want?” He asks and you groan in frustration. 

“Please. Mphh… Want you inside me.” You say, whining when his fingers start to pump faster and harder into you. 

“Jeno! M’ gonna cum!” You babble and he groans into your ear. 

“C’mon princess, cum all over my fingers. I know you can do it. You’ve been such a good girl.” He says and edges you on even more. 

Your moans grow progressively louder and Jeno has to clamp his hands over your mouth again to muffle them. You feel the knot in your stomach tighten before it breaks. You finish with a loud moan that’s muffled but he doesn’t stop his ministrations. He moves his fingers even faster causing you to try to push him away. 

“Jeno! M’ sensitive!” You muffle out, gripping his arm hoping that he’ll remove his fingers but he doesn't. 

He grabs your hands and pins them against the bed again. He licks a stripe up your neck and sucks harshly again, leaving a trail of his marks starting from your ear all the way down to your chest. 

“Jeno, I’m gonna-” You're interrupted when a second orgasm washes over you and you let out a shrilling moan, hoping that no one was awake to hear. 

"That's it baby.” He says and slowly pulls his fingers from your heat. 

You babble and hum out incoherent words as you try to catch your breath. He pushes his shorts past his dick and gets on his knees. You look at his angry red tip. He was so huge and you gasp as you try to squirm away from him. 

“Jeno, I can’t.” You attempt to say through heaving breaths but he just laughs and grips your thighs to bring you back closer to him. 

“Yes you can, baby. I know you can take it." He says and spreads your legs further apart. He lines up his tip with your entrance. He lets out a quiet groan when he feels your gummy walls around him. 

You bite your lip to not let you moans out as you feel his bare dick inside you and you try to catch your breath. He was so much bigger than you expected. The stretch was too painful as he quickly pushed himself all the way in. He was bigger than anything you’ve ever taken before.

“S’ too big.” You mewl out and he laughs. 

You were fueling his ego even more and you didn’t even know it. 

“I know, baby. I know.” He says and stays still for a bit so you can get used to his size. After a minute, you nod your head and give him the green light. 

He pulls out and slams himself back into you causing you to put your hands over your mouth. You chant his name in your hands like a mantra and that only fuels him more. 

He starts thrusting inside you harder, faster, and deeper. You quickly wrap your hands around him and shove your face into his neck. He was reaching places that you didn’t even know existed. Your vision was so blurry, you felt like you were seeing stars. Your freshly done nails scratched against his back and biceps. 

“I can feel you, baby. You’re almost there.” He says into your ear and you nod your head. His grip on your hips were so tight, you were sure there were going to be bruises tomorrow. 

‘C’mon baby, cum. Cream all over my dick.” He says raspily into your ears and that’s all you need before the knot comes undone, creaming all over his cock. He groans at the sight and chases after his own orgasm. 

He finishes inside of you and leans his head into your neck. He places kisses all over the marks he left on your body. You smile and run your fingers through his hair. Giggling, you pull his head away from your neck and place a quick kiss on his lips. 

He smiles and leans his forehead against yours. He breathes you in deeply with you doing the same. The smile never leaves both of your faces. Your tummy was so warm with his cock buried inside, you didn't want him to pull away. 

However he does and you wince at the loss of him. His cum leaks out of your whole and he reaches down to push it back in. 

“Jeno!” You yelp and he laughs before sliding his finger out. 

“Didn’t want it to go to waste.” He says while looking at his art work. Your core was throbbing with spurts of white escaping and he felt himself getting hard again but he knew you couldn’t go on anymore. 

He grabs his discredited shirt off the floor and wipes at your core before grabbing another pair of panties from your bag. He slides it up your thighs and places a kiss over them before pulling his own shorts and boxers up. 

You get up from the bed to go pee before getting back into bed with him. He wraps his arms around you again as you lay close to him. You sigh blissfully as he places his head in between your boobs. He gets a perfect view of your neck covered in his marks from there and smirks. Your hands go to his hair and you start playing with it. Sooner or later the both of you pass out from exhaustion. 

-

Your eyes flutter open as you look around for Jeno but he is nowhere to be found. The sunlight from earlier is now gone. You get out of bed and change into a pair of sweats. You knew it was a bit chilly outside since you could see the tree leaves swaying back and forth. 

You go to Jeno’s bag and pull out a black hoodie. Quickly slipping it on, you walk outside to the bonfire where everyone is sitting. You walk up to Jeno who gestures for you to sit on him. You sit down on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. 

He passes the blunt to Jaemin before wrapping his arms around you. 

“Do you want a drink, Yn?” Jisung asks and hands you a cup filled with jungle juice. You slightly thank him before taking a sip. 

“Good?” The man under you asks and you nod your head at him. 

He glances at your hoodie and notices that it’s his. He doesn’t say anything but he smiles at the thought of you wearing his clothes again. 

You watch the fire as everyone around you engages in their own conversations. Looking around, you catch Jaemin looking at you and Jeno. He brings his hands up and gives you a thumbs up which causes you to laugh slightly. 

You look back down to Jeno to find him already staring at you. He slightly chuckles and intertwines your hands together. You smile sheepishly and he can’t help but to plant a kiss on your cheek. You gasp and hit his shoulder lightly with your free hand while he laughs. 

You pull your phone out from your (his) hoodie pocket and furrow your eyebrows when you see that Giselle started following you on Instagram. Quietly, you show it to Jeno who rolls his eyes. 

“Just block her, that’s what I did.” He says and you nod your head but you don’t actually do it. You just turn your phone off. 

-

Unfortunately time flew by too fast and you found yourself in class 3 months later. Your professor was rambling on about something that you could care less about. You looked at the clock and let out a breath of relief when you noticed that there was only 5 minutes left of class. 

Quietly, you start packing up your bag and shutting down your laptop. Just as you finish packing, the professor dismisses you guys while talking about the assignment due next week. You jump out of your seat as soon as she’s done talking and quickly walk out. 

Your phone pings and you look at it while walking. 

we’re waiting for you baby -jen

okay, coming! :) -princess 

You quickly speed up and walk over to the parking lot where everyone was gathered around their cars. You happily skip to Jeno who’s leaning against the hood of his car. His arms open wide as he waits for you to embrace him. 

He groans when you throw your arms around his neck and smiles. 

“Missed you.” He says and squeezes you tighter to him. 

“You just saw me this morning.” You say with a giggle and he shrugs his shoulders. 

“I always miss you.” He admits and kisses you quickly on the lips. 

Jeno and you finally made it official a few weeks ago after “talking” for two months. You guys were on a date like usual only this time you guys were walking in the park and enjoying the first snowfall of the season. 

“I love the snow.” You say, smiling wildly as you catch a falling snow in your hand. 

Jeno observes the way your eyes light up as you bring it closer to your face to inspect it. He felt his heartbeat fasten and he knew he had to ask you right then and there. He tugs on your hand that he was holding and you look up at him. 

What’s wrong?” You ask as you stare into his eyes. 

Jeno inhales sharply before looking at you. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks quickly and your eyes widen. 

You softly let out a laugh and wrap your arms around him and he reciprocates. You pull away and plant a kiss onto his lips before pulling away and squealing with a “Yes!” 

He laughs at your reaction and brings you in closer. His hand going to cradle your head as he connects both of your lips together again. 

Your arms go to his waist as you hold him tightly while kissing him back. He pulls away and you nuzzle your head into his chest. His arms squeeze and pull you in closer. The snowfall started falling harder but you both didn’t care. You stood there in each other’s embrace as the snow hit the ground.

“Let’s go.” Jaemin says and the eight of you pile into the cars to head over to lunch. Jeno opens the passenger door for you and you quickly get in before he closes it and rushes over to the driver’s seat. He gets in and places his hand on your thigh. 

You smile and grab his hand that’s on yours before he reverses his car and pulls out of the parking lot. Jeno wasn’t in your plans when you first arrived but you’re so glad he meddled his way into your life. As you look over at him, you smile and press a kiss to his cheek which makes me smile. 

His eyes make those cute little crescent moons that you love so damn much. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it before placing your hands back into your lap. You fell hard for Jeno and you still continue to fall hard for him. 

No amount of measurements could measure how happy you feel right now. If falling for someone felt this good, you would’ve done it a long time ago. But then again, maybe it only feels good because it’s Lee Jeno you’re falling for. 

End.

Thank you So much for reading my first ever fic! I spent so much time planning and rewriting this, but I'm glad to finally have it out for you guys to read. Sending you lots of love and kisses!

xoxo, jenoroyals

[misstycloud]

Yandere merman x reader x best friend

———————————————————————

Imagine a darling finding out she’s half-mermaid.

She lives in a small fishing village way out in he country. It’s the kind of town no one ever leaves. You’re born, grow up, and die there. Whole generations of families have lived there since long before.

Her parents are normal folks; father’s sailor and mother’s a stay-at-home wife. But since darlings family is so much like others’, she doesn’t understand why she’s so different. Her mother often jokes about how her first word was ‘sea’ and how she’d find her standing in her crib, staring out the window at the waves crashing into the cliffs.

Darling has been in a constant battle with herself her whole life. Since as long as she can remember she’s had a gripping fascination with the ocean. She can’t help it! Every night when everyone else laid sound-asleep in their beds, did she lie awake and fantasize about sneaking out and disappearing under the dark waves. No matter how hard she tried shutting these thoughts away, they always came back to haunt her.

While her mother thought is was cute and not a problem, it couldn’t be anything more. Her mother didn’t understand- as sweeet as she was. It probably stemmed from her being too busy with darlings younger siblings and doing chores, that she didn’t think of how the village spoke of her daughter. They call her strange and speak of what a waste of beauty on someone like her; she’s no good and you can’t marry her. Her mother didn’t know about how the rest of the kids teased darling. They pulled her her and pushed he on the ground. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for her to find her school books wet with sea water, since she ‘likes it so much’. The teachers didn’t care either.

The only solace darling can find is in her best friend. He always defended her agaisnt her bullies- which was practically everyone- and stayed by her side, even when he could become affected too. Darling feels he’s too good to her. The times she felt so alone, he was there to comfort her when her confidence was at its lowest. He held her when she cried and patted her back, whispering into her ear about how sweet and beautiful she is.

Then, by chance one day, she meets a merman. She is surprised- merfolk only exists in stories after all! The merman is so inhumanly beautiful. With long hair cascading down his back and a long fish tail. His tail looked very strong, he was no doubt an excellent swimmer. At first she is scared of him, she runs away-ignoring his shouts for her to come back- and keeps to herself in her room. Her family is worried and wonders if something is wrong, but she tells them it’s nothing and that she’s just a little tired. In her room, darling thinks about the merman. How is it possible for him to exist? Was she hallucinating and perhaps he wasn’t real? Are there other mythological creatures out there? After overcoming her initial fear and hesitance, she decides to go back to the beach.

The merman was still there. She dares ask how he can talk and he responds with, “My people don’t speak the way you do, but I have taught myself the language of humans. That’s how I am communicating with you.”

She asks him more questions, all of which he answers truthfully. Or, well, she hoped he wasn’t trying to deceive her. Darling even gained the courage of asking whether the stories of merfolk feastin on human flesh is true, and when the merman confirms it’s indeed true, she backs up. When he notices her alarmed state, he hurriedly add that he would never eat her.

It’s then he hits her with the most shocking reveal of her life. Apparently, he senses mer- blood in her vains.

“….n-no, that can’t be. You must be sensing wrong- I’m human..!”

He sighs. “Merfolk are very intuitive. We always recognise our own kind.”

He reveals that he suspect her of being half- merfolk since the scent of mer is strong on her. Darling thinks it’s laughable, both her parents are perfectly human. It can’t be. Like, she’d notice if one of her parents was a mythological creature with a fish tail as a lower half.

The merman tells her of old stories among his people, of mers who reproduced with humans- whether its be willingly or the human had kidnapped them. The children would always be different. On the surface they appeared like any other human, but on the inside there would constantly be a longing to return to their orgins- the ocean. Darling is conflicted. On one hand she can’t believe what she’s hearing, however, the description of the half- bloods fit her too well.

That night she confronts her father while he’s getting off work. He breaks instantly. She is shocked to discover that her father had an affair with a mermaid whilst being married to her mother. He had discovered her while fishing in an unpopular area and took her with him. He sobs that he couldn’t help it, the mermaid was so enchanting he couldn’t control himself. When the mermaid fell pregnant, he was so scared of what his wife would say when she found out, but when the child came out human, he was puzzled but relieved at the same time. He brought the baby home and played it off as finding it abondoned by the docks.

Darling can’t believe it. Her father was practically a monster. She recalled the tales of kidnapped merfolk held against their will, by the merman. She couldn’t imagine what her birth mother must’ve gone through. Her father begs her not to tell her mother because it would destroy the happy family they’d built.

In the end, she chooses to keep the secret for the time being. The right thing was to tell her mother, but it was also true that it would ruin everything and she didn’t want her younger siblings to grow up in a broken family. The only thing she wanted was for her father to leave her alone and never speak to her unless absolutely necessary. He agreed.

She begins spending all her time by the beach, in the company of the merman. She wondered what his name was, and to her bewilderment, he shrugged and said he didn’t have one. So she decides to give him one herself, Aqualor. It seemed merfolk-y enough. Luckily, the merman didn’t object and smiled instead, accepting the name.

Her best friend is worried though. He can never seem to even catch a glimpse of the love of his life anymore. Where was she? Now that they’d both grown into adults, it became harder to see each other; he had to work to support himself(and her, in the future). He felt horrible about it, but in all honesty he was a little glad the rest of the village didn’t take to her. If they did, surely she would have been taken away from him. Even if she didn’t know it, she was incredibly beautiful. It was impossible for him not to be a little biased, but she truly was the most wonderful thing he’d laid his eyes on. He could only imagine how it’d be if people actually treated her like she looked.

While her best friend felt the separation anxiety, darling count be happier. Finally she had someone who understood her fully. There was someone to relate to when she explained the urge to dive deep beneath the waves and disappear, and how pleasant water felt on her skin. Aqualor understood everything perfectly.

Her best memory was of her first swim with Aqualor. She’d been somewhat sacred in he beginning. Despite her desperate longing for the ocean, she’d never been in it much. It was quite ironic. He’d been so patient with her, never pushing or getting annoyed. He waited until she was more comfortable venturing out in the openness. Now they swam together every day, laughing and playing. Of course, Aqualor was the superior swim more out of the two of them, but darling likes to think she isn’t so shabby herself.

This is how she thought the rest of her life would be like; she and Aqualor enjoying each others company from morning to evening, while she returns home to the village every night. She didn’t have a job- no one would hire her anyway- so why not have fun with your friend? It wouldn’t be the best life, but it’d be peaceful and easy.

However, the ‘easy’ disappeared when Aqualor asked if she’d like to join him in the sea permanently.

“What? What do you mean?” She tilted her head in confusion.

The merman flipped his tail in the shallow water- his upper body was on the sand while the rest of him remained in the water. “Would you not like to come with me? We already spend so much time together, so it would hardly be any different.”

“Yeah, but I can’t just leave. I have to stay with my family.” She glanced back up and could see the tiniest snippet of houses, the village.

“You mean the father who has committed sins, a mother who doesn’t care for your feelings and siblings who forget your existence?” He harshly pointed out. His words stung.

“They’re far from perfect, I know that. But still, I can’t just vanish- I don’t even think I can survive out there!”

He grabbed her hand, his were wet and slightly webbed. It didn’t bother her though.

“Of course you can. Remember your heritage? Besides, I will be there and guide you through it. I will protect you, I will hunt for you. It will just be you and me, happy and content. Doesn’t it sound lovely?”

She went quiet and looked away, unsure.

He continued, “You alway tell me of how the humans treat you. They scorn you and say hateful words about you. That is because you are above them.” He smiled. “You do not belong here- you are mer! You should be with your people.”

“But even if I have mer-blood, I’m still human, look at me.” She stretched out her legs, flexing them and empathising their difference.

“You may have the appearance of a human, you soul, however, it is of a mermaid. You long to be free and to live the life you’ve always meant to live. They can’t keep you here in this…” his voice trailed off to disgust ���cage.”

Darling sat and listened to Aqualor’s ramblings. Did he have a point? It’s not like anyone would miss her really. Her friend, yes, but he has so much else to live for. He’s not strange and everyone thinks well of him. He’ll be successful.

“So, what do you say, my coral? Will you join me?”

[starlostseungmin]

husband!felix

✰ notes: felix is finally here !! hyunjin will be posted soon. not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

seungmin , chan , lee know , jeongin , han , changbin（ felix ）hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Felix who proposed like this [ read here. ]

Husband Felix who is the sunshine of your rainy days, an angel sent to love and make you happy, and has the sweetest smile of all. 

Husband Felix who loves to bake your favorite pastries every weekend. You’d try to help but he keeps you out of the kitchen just to surprise you with what he made (sometimes they’re burnt) but he is a good cook anyway. 

Husband Felix whose freckles you love to trace with your fingers while he’s asleep and you’d tell him how much you love them, “They’re like constellations.” with a smile on your face. He gets shy after that. 

Husband Felix who cries every time you do movie marathons because he gets swayed easily by the plot, especially melodramas.  

Husband Felix who always wanted a golden retriever puppy and begged you to adopt one, but you told him you already have Seungmin at the dorms. 

Husband Felix who lets you win every time you play video games with him and gets loud when he loses at uno. Thanks to Chan. 

Husband Felix who gives you flowers when you go on dates because it makes him think of you and would say you are as pretty as them. 

Husband Felix whose ideal date is to have a picnic by the river or the beach so you can watch the sunset or sunrise together while holding hands. 

Husband Felix who loves taking pictures of you and showing them to you later saying how beautiful you look on each of them. 

Husband Felix who knows exactly how to flirt but is weird and funny sometimes. It never fails to make you laugh. 

Husband Felix who makes your heart flutter every time he smiles and it gets worse when he kisses your lips at random times leaving a blush on your cheeks. He loves to cuddle and is probably the clingy one in this relationship. You don’t mind anyway and you love him for that. “I was born to give hugs!!”

Husband Felix who lets you play with his hair and style it whatever you want on a boring weekend. 

Husband Felix who calls and texts you every time he gets the chance when he’s not around because he misses you so much. He would hug you tight and smother you with kisses when you surprise him while he’s on tour or after he’s been away from you for too long. 

Husband Felix who is a great drinking buddy but gets drunk easily. He always has so much to confess on how much he loves you when he’s drunk and cries while taking everything to heart. 

Husband Felix who is so annoying (lovingly) and cute at the same time that you can’t even get mad. He does it on purpose. 

Husband Felix who takes you on vacation a lot of times a year to his favorite countries, lets you use his card to make a big or small purchase and spoils you by buying you gifts or giving you something from the brands that he’s working with. “Take them or I’ll sell them online having me as a freebie,” He would say while wriggling his brows. “You can’t sell them,” “I know so take them!” 

Husband Felix who gets jealous when you spend a little too much time with his friends instead of him when you’re hanging out during their free time and sulks at the corner like a pouty duckling. 

Husband Felix who takes a day off from work and cooks for you when you get sick. He’s the type to not let you move a single muscle and asks you to stay in bedーthat he’ll do everything you ask for, except argue with him.

Husband Felix who doesn’t want to fight with you. He doesn’t like seeing you cry and most likely hides himself when he’s the one crying. He’ll apologize immediately and take you in his arms, whispering tons of I love yous. 

Husband Felix who would say encouraging words when you’re sad and would insert funny jokes just to see you smile. 

Husband Felix whose love languages are words of affirmation, acts of service, physical touch, gift-giving, and quality time. 

Husband Felix who doesn’t mind if you don’t want or want children with him because he respects you so much and always choose the things that would make you comfortable. 

Husband Felix who doesn’t just love you but is willing to give up everything in the world just to have you which he already did. 

Husband Felix whom you promised to take care of him well, never hurt him, never leave but love him and would always be right there for him. 

Husband Felix who will and always choose you.

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[hoao]

oikawa is a perfectly crafted character. he’s silly and insufferable and has a ridiculous way of behaving but he’s also determined and strong and committed and hardworking. if you dive deeper, he’s also desperate, insecure, and he yearns and he wants and he fights. he’s scared his hard work will never be enough because there are people who are already one step ahead of him, people he considers geniuses.

“talent is something you make bloom, instinct is something you polish.”

i don’t think anything will ever stop him from doubting and feeling insecure, and iwaizumi himself once told him he’s probably never going to be satisfied. however, by breaking free from the constant pressure of “the talented ones”, he can polish his hard work, his instinct, his drive.

it will lead him far, yes. in fact, it leads him to another country, dealing with another language and another culture and another world. he momentarily forgets just how fun volleyball can be, until meeting hinata reminds him of it. he grows up to be fierce and motivated and passionate and on the opposite side of the court, representing another country and standing up for his “petty pride”.

he’s a character that drives me insane because i relate to him in ways that scare me. am i talented? or is what i have “just” instinct that i have to polish? am i a sort of imposter between people who are born great? people who have to work hard, just like me, but they seem to be doing it a bit more effortlessly?

hard work is always hard work, no matter the raw material (talent/instinct). but oikawa is so good and relatable because he knows it and he still feels like he needs to do more, more, more. he feels different from the others, and when first confronted with this reality it almost takes control of him. (kageyama is what he will never be, he despises him because of it).

and what’s an even bigger paradox is that nobody ever looks down on him. he does it all by himself. kageyama and ushijima and hinata and everybody else, they all look at him for what he is: a good player, a scary opponent, someone they fear and someone they look up to simultaneously, someone they have fun playing against, someone they want to beat, someone worth their time and efforts, someone who’s crazy good at what he does.

as always, haikyuu is so real for this too. our mind works in very weird ways, sometimes we don’t take into consideration others’ opinions of us unless they’re negative, we’re never satisfied with ourselves, we always want more.

oikawa is a perfectly crafted character. he has flaws and he’s so intensely human people might despise him for it. and the path furudate built for him is so fitting and so hopeful it has me believing there’s a chance i’ll get there too. not to Argentina, not to the Olympics. instead, to a future where my hard work means something (to me!).

and what if i don’t feel like the others? what about it? it will never be “just” instinct. it’s my hard work, my pride and drive. it will lead me places because i demand it. when oikawa breaks off the cycle, he becomes insatiable. “i will defeat everyone, so be ready!”

(i also happen to believe he really does defeat everyone).

[tonicandjins]

learning languages | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.

날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold

The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon. 

It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking. 

Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area. 

Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark. 

They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels. 

It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you. 

Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.

Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven. 

You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him. 

“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”

“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”

“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.

“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”

You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree. 

“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him. 

Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark. 

But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake. 

“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”

It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think. 

You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English. 

“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”

So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.

“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”

“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.

Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought. 

Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.

“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea. 

“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”

“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”

“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”

Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city. 

Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.  When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.

The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning. 

The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep. 

You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone. 

It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends. 

약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise

When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.

Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.

By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.

It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.

Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.

Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.

Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.

Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.

It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.

Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.

“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.

“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.

“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”

“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”

He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”

You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”

Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”

“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”

This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”

“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”

You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”

Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.

Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.

“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”

You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.

“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”

Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”

“It is,” you confess.

Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.

Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.

“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”

He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”

Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.

“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”

한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?

Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.

The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.

Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”

He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.

Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”

Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.

“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.

The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”

You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.

“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”

He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”

Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”

You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.

You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.

“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”

You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”

He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”

“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”

You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.

You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”

Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.

“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”

“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.

He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”

You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.

“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”

“That’s mean!” you gasp.

“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.

“Donghyuck!”

“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”

You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”

“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.

Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”

The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.

저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic

“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.

It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.

There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.

Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.

“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”

The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.

“She loves you already!” Mark comments.

You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”

“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”

“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”

Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”

Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.

Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.

Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”

“No way,” Mark protests.

“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.

“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”

“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”

Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.

Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.

“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”

Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.

“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”

This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.

“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”

“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”

He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”

“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”

Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.

Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”

“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”

Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”

You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.

“What?” you ask.

Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.

먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.

Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.

Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.

“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”

You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.

“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”

You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.

Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.

It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.

And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.

“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”

“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”

Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”

You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.

“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”

Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.

“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”

“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”

It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.

“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”

“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.

Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”

“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.

Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.

You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.

You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.

It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.

The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”

삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle

Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.

Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.

SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.

“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.

You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”

“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“

Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.

“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.

“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”

“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”

Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.

The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.

“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.

“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”

The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.

Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.

Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.

The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.

“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”

The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.

“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”

“Love… triangles?” you repeat.

“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”

You gulp.

“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”

This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.

“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”

You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”

Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.

It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.

Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”

이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?

You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.

Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?

You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.

Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.

You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.

Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.

“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”

Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.

“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”

“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”

A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.

“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.

“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.

“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”

Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”

But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.

Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.

You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.

“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.

Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.

You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.

Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.

You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”

Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.

“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”

“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”

“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”

“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”

Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.

“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.

Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.

When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.

“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”

So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.

When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.

Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.

Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.

You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.

“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”

“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”

Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.

“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.

Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”

“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”

“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.

“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”

“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”

You laugh but urge him to continue.

“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”

“What does Mark have—”

“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”

Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.

“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”

You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”

일어날 �� 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?

It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”

“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”

“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”

As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”

You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”

“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”

Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”

“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”

The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”

“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.

Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”

That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.

“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”

You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”

You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”

“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.

Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.

“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”

Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”

계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons

When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.

From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.

The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.

The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.

But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.

In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.

Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.

“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.

“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.

Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”

Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.

Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.

It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.

The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).

Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.

“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”

Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”

Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”

“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”

Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”

Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”

Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”

“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.

Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.

“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”

“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”

“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.

Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”

“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.

“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”

You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”

It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.

With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”

Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?

Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.

 오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand

Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.

You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.

His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.

It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.

The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.

You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).

Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.

Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.

Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.

“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.

Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.

His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.

“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”

Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.

You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.

“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”

Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.

“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.

천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo)  - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home

Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.

You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.

Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.

Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.

Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.

Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.

Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.

They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.

You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.

“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.

“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”

“Please speak slowly.”

“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”

“I can’t understand you.”

“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”

“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”

Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”

“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”

“Huh?”

“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”

“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.

“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”

Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.

The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.

You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”

“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”

Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”

“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”

Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.

“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””

“Shit like?” Mark asks.

You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”

“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”

Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”

You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.

“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”

You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”

“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”

You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”

“Back home?”

You smile. “Yes. Back home.”

갈망 (galmang) - longing

It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.

You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.

The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.

The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.

The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.

Of course, she knows.

Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.

Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.

They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.

“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.

“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”

“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”

Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”

Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”

It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.

But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.

예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected

The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.

You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.

You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.

미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.

“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.

“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”

Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.

“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”

“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”

He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.

“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”

You keep your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”

“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”

“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”

Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.

“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”

“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.

“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.

“But now like how you are a part of me.”

Oh.

“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”

He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.

“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”

Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”

Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.

“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”

But he doesn’t have to.

“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”

Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”

It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.

The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.

Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.

You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.

And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.

Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.

Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:

Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.

It’s only the beginning, it seems.

The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.

It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.

[willowpains]

introducing…

latina actress reader!

mexican to be exact, born and raised. sings and dances, but has decided to focus all her efforts into acting and breaking through Hollywood, fighting closed doors due to her nationality, always with a good attitude and ready to work her ass off to achieve her dreams to be the next it girl and big thing around the world.

she’s…

big hearted. soft. sensitive. hardworking. multilingual. singer. dancer. warm. family girl. fangirl. super friendly. the one that makes everyone feel included. a listener and big yapper around the people she trusts. a bit shy at first. loves a good party. cinephile. tequila lover.

loves…

going out with her friends and fellow costars. traveling back home whenever she can. the beach. taking photos of everyone and everything. speaking spanish in front of people that don’t understand. doing karaoke. her dog. reggaeton. doing tiktok dances. reading romance and fantasy. going to the movies at night. posting photo dumps on instagram. doing pranks. her mexican food. makeup. her alone time.

can’t stand…

horror movies. people that don’t love animals. over bearing and noisy paparazzi and press. liars. smoking and cigarettes. loud chewing. small spaces. rats. not wearing perfume. losing her favorite lip gloss. online spoilers. missing out on stuff. people talking on the movie theater.

wikipedia…

-her first big role outside of her country was as a pogue, with a trope of slow burn enemies to lovers with Drew Starkey’s character, and member of the main friend group in the highly acclaimed Netflix series Outer Banks, still ongoing now with a just released season 4.

-she was casted and is part of the wrapped up and upcoming movie: Wake Up Dead Man, sequel to the famous murder mystery movie Knives Out.

-uploads covers and snippets of originals songs on her YouTube channel, as well as see social media accounts such as TikTok and Instagram.

-had a big role besides actor Jacob Elordi in last years hit project Saltburn, making it one of her biggest movies in her repertoire to this day.

-she was seen attending a Niall Horan concert previously in the year, and was brought up on stage by the artist to sing a duet, as she claimed one of her favorite songs, “You could start a cult” during the show.

-she is rumored to take part in the role of Susan Pevensie in upcoming Narnia Series directed by Greta Gerwig, nothing has been confirmed yet but both the actress and the director have been hinting at it in different interviews and events.

loading more…🎥🎞️🎬🍿

***

I am so freaking excited about this concept that I came up with! I had been wanting to continue writing for drew and this idea just landed on my lap didn’t it? *wink wink*

I have so many plans for this universe with mexican/latina actress reader, from moodboards, blurbs, headcanons, specific scenarios, sooooo so much! if you have any questions, things you wanna request or know about reader please feel free to ask or let me know, you’ll be feeding into my motivation to write more about her and drew and the rest of the obx cast<3

credits and inspiration to all the writers out here that come up with these concepts of ___ reader! if ate up most of them and I think they’re creative and amazing af

about time my writer personality came back, and as always, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any grammar or writing errors there may be!

stay tuned👀

[katuschka]

Everybody's Got a Secret

Josh Kiszka x f!Reader

3.393 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings: This is filth!, mild erotic asphyxiation, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (both f and m receiving), light bondage, masturbation, dirty language, sub&bratty&cheeky Joshua, open relationships

Masterlist Taglist

My doors were always open, and no questions asked. Everybody’s got a secret, and in this particular case, in this time and space, his secret had my name.

No strings, no obligations. Both of us had those already somewhere else. Both in long-term relationships with other cocks that just weren’t always available… or able. Hence the arrangements were made and doors were opened…

When my husband was out of town, which happened more often than not, I spent my days in my downtown apartment, because I hated the big and quiet country house when he was not in it, playing his piano or keeping fit in his basement gym. Always a hopeless romantic, an old soul in a mature body, he made sweet love to me in that house. With his kids already raised and gone, he offered me a new chance, away from the abuse and sorrow that was my old life. He gave me an opportunity to pursue my dreams and a new home in that big, silent mansion. Always grateful, I cooked his meals and did the laundry there. 

And we both knew that it was not enough. I would do anything for that angel of a man. He couldn’t do everything for me. But that’s ok. Everybody’s got a secret, and he willingly granted me mine. I wasn’t delusional either, I knew there were other women… 

So, as long as he didn’t know the details, I could do whatever I wanted in my cherished hiding place, the only condition being that I pay my rent. Fair enough. More than fair. It was a place where I reigned, after all. The big house was my home only as long as he wanted me there, but that was it, that was the agreement, too. So I eventually learned to fend for myself in every way. That was our mutual goal. One day, I would be alone again. I was almost sure of that. But thanks to him, I would no longer be lost. 

It was a bit different with Josh. He had almost everything since the day he was born, and he gained even more as the years went by, simply because he was talented and brilliant and surrounded by his equals literally since the days he was still in the womb. He had people. He had love too, and they were almost a perfect match, save for just one tiny little thing. Josh was a shameless slut, always on a hunt for a healthy dose of naughtiness and depravity. Josh loved dirty fucking, he loved to experiment and he needed his fix from time to time.

His man just couldn’t force himself to do it. He only made love to him. He also didn’t have enough holes. Or meaty pillows. Not exactly Josh’s preference, but a welcome bonus when it just clicked. To keep things interesting, he said. That was when I entered the building…figuratively speaking, because I never EVER crossed the threshold of their house. Secrets don’t do such shit.

He knew about my existence, and that was ok, as long as he didn’t know my name or my face. The sentiment was mutual. He didn’t want to meet me, see me, acknowledge me. Ever. Josh made sure he wouldn’t. 

So, my doors were always open and Josh called whenever he needed. This time, my phone rang at 2 a. m..

It was a 45 minute drive from his place to mine, depending on the traffic. At night, it would be less, but still enough time for me to get ready. So, when he rang my doorbell at last, I answered in his favorite vintage slip dress, holding two glasses filled with wine. Like a valley doll. 

“Well, well, well, what brings you here at this ungodly hour?” I teased, watching him grin at me in return. 

“Stupid question, darling,” he answered, while running his finger gently down my bare upper arm. “The reason remains the same. You’re a comfort blanket for my dick, and I need you to do some ungodly things to it tonight.”

“That’s a lovely sentiment. So you need to have your dick comforted?” I snickered and handed him his glass and he nodded in appreciation, taking a sip without breaking eye contact, pursing his lips around the rim with the tip of his tongue sticking out just a tiny bit. He always did that when he wanted to communicate his neediness. “What happened? Trouble in paradise?” I cooed, while making room so he could enter.  

“Don’t ask, and I shall not lie, remember? But since you asked so nicely – no. I have had some trouble with certain lyrics. I need my muse. Will you help me?” He wasted no time, already making a beeline to my bedroom. Pausing at the door, he glanced back at me, fishing for the answer he didn’t need. Of course I would. 

“Always there,” I chirped again and stuck my tongue out at him playfully, following him without haste.

Pausing in the doorway, I leaned against the door frame and took a sip, watching him unzipping his fly already. He was always gorgeous, whether dressed in plain white cotton or embroidered organza. But preferably naked. Lean, but not skinny. Toned, but sweet. Bare like a statue…until he raised his arms up and I fainted. Always. 

“Eager, aren’t you! So no small talk today, I assume?” I was eager too, knowing what was coming. 

Always a tease, he rolled his hips lewdly and, glancing at me through the ridiculously long curtain of his eyelashes, he puckered his lips, inviting me to join him by the bed with a loud and playful smack. “It’s not a day, darling. We’ve no time to waste before the sun comes up and orders us to be elsewhere.” 

A fucking poet, sometimes spitting dreamy verses down at me even in between moans during the actual animalistic process of fucking, like a true artist that he was. I watched how he batted his eyelashes at me again. Ridiculously long, indeed… “Did you put some mascara on, Josh?”

“And if I did?”

I licked my front teeth in silent anticipation. He was needy and ready to play the mouse, which in return made me greedy and instantly wet. Meow! “Joshua! Do you want to cry tonight?”

After he took off the last sock, he flexed his shoulders and straightened, facing me completely; already stark naked and already completely hard, his second weeping head nodding at me, greeting me like an old friend. “I voiced a plea, and I gave you a hint. You’re the director tonight.”

The plan formed in my head the moment he called. Even before that, actually. I’d lie if I said that I didn’t care about what he did for a living and how. Watching videos of him performing was one of my favorite leisure activities when he was away and out of touch. It made the anticipation ever so sweet, because his stage presence was just as sensual as his bed behavior. I knew what he was capable of, while others only imagined. 

“Did you bring your payment with you?” The word payment was a deliberate, whorish choice, completely ok only because I was the one who started using it one day, and the only one allowed to use it. God forbid if I’d ever heard it leave his mouth. He’d have to dry hump the mattress instead, and let me watch his torments. He loved the whore in me, but alas! The only way to get a taste of it was to treat me with respect. Night-time calls meant that he would have to grant me one wish, often in the form of a prop.  At night, I was ALWAYS in charge, giving him what he wanted, but it was always delivered my way. 

This time, I ordered him to bring one of his beaded scarves he wore onstage. Now he pulled it from his man purse and placed it in my waiting hand ceremonially, like a cherished treasure, smiling at me with little sparks dancing behind his pupils. “Am I going to be tied up with this?” 

“Oh no baby, I have my handcuffs for that.” He watched me swirl the scarf around his head and tie it tightly around his neck, leaving one end long enough to tickle his left thigh. Swinging it like a pendulum, I let the heavily beaded end hit his throbbing cock with a faint tinkling sound. 

I reveled in watching his immediate reaction: his eyes widened and lips parted in shock. He quickly tried to hide it by darting his tongue out and curling it against his upper lip, but his heaving chest betrayed him. This was when he was at his cutest, figuratively or literally on his knees, but always too stubborn to give in entirely.

“See, I’m gonna use it as a leash, if necessary,” I explained and took a small step back to admire my work. “Don’t you like the idea?”

He narrowed his eyes at me and those plump lips curled up into that bratty grin again. “Oh I like the idea very much. I’m ready to be…bad.” 

“Bad,” I whispered,and circled him like my prey, which is what he essentially was. Hugging him from behind, I let my hands travel up his chest, grazing his right nipple with my fingernails while the fingers of my left hand closed around his throat. “Bad boys don’t whine,” which was exactly what he did when I applied a little bit more pressure. He tilted his head back and rested it on my shoulder, eyes closed, showing me how much he loved being under my control. 

“You look really lovely like this. Makes me think… You know what we haven’t tried yet?” I was now intentionally rubbing my lace-covered tits against the tense muscles of his back, whispering those words sultrily right into his ear.

“No…” It was but a hoarse whisper already. It was fascinating how much power his voice normally held, but I always managed to gag him with ease. 

“I'm thinking… pegging you from behind, doggy style. With this,” I tugged at the scarf demonstratively. He yelped, his knees buckled for a split second and his whole body shook as if from cold. He was stupendously aroused. I loved it!

“Yeah, exactly. Like a bitch,” I twisted the end of the scarf around my hand and tugged again. The most delicious whimper escaped his lips and I watched him wrap his right hand around his twitching cock, while the left one reached behind and rested on my thigh. He gave himself a few slow strokes, then slid the hand down to cup his balls. “Oh yeah, please, do that, I’m already aching…”

“I’m really glad you like the idea, baby, but not today. Another time.”

“Why not?” He turned around and tried to win me over with those puppy eyes, but I had a very clear vision in my head. It had occupied my mind so much that I already bought some new additions to my bedroom inventory, just for him. I grabbed the scarf again and drew him closer to me so that our lips were almost touching. I tightened my grip, holding the scarf right under the knot below his ear, and twisted my fist slightly. He swallowed with difficulty and his wide eyes glimmered with undiluted lust. I licked his parted lips with the tip of my tongue until his eyes rolled back. Only then I finally released him and he stumbled backwards.

“Because you wanted me to do ungodly things to your dick, not your ass. Now onto bed, chop chop.” I smacked his tiny, perfectly rounded ass and he obliged, climbing on the bed with exaggerated sway like a tomcat, performing just for me. He turned around then, and spread his legs, licking his index finger lewdly while he shook the end of the scarf with his left hand until the beads tinkled again. “M’waitin’,” he breathed out and moaned around the finger. Such a slut!

I took one more sip, stripped too, and joined him on the bed, climbing right in between his thighs, admiring his cleanly shaven treasure. “You have a truly beautiful dick. It absolutely deserves some profane treatment.”

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it,” he responded, his voice shaking ever so slightly when I pressed my tongue flat to the underside of that gorgeous cock and licked a long stripe all the way up. I laughed. “So humble.”

“Darling, I’ve seen many cocks in my life. I know mine is awfully pretty.” 

“Hmm, how about you balls?” I cupped them gently, while crawling up to kiss him, tickling his chest with my hair.  

“Also exceptional.” He kissed me back, then pushed my head back down. 

“That’s why you keep them on full display all the time?” I bent down to lick around his areola before I sucked the nipple in between my lips, still refusing to go back down and suck on his cock instead, even though he bucked his hips up several times, giving me a clear hint how impatient he already was. 

“Flaunt…aaah…flaunt what you’ve got. God, you’re such a tease.”

His tone was dangerous this time. I looked up to meet his deadly, bratty stare. “You’re in no position to look at me like this.”

“Yes, I am. My thigh is completely wet from how your cunt already weeps for me.” He made another lewd gesture, putting his fingers in a V shape in front of his mouth and sticking his tongue through it at me, flickering it up and down. Yes, very suggestive. I’d love that. Continue and we’re both gonna get it. He usually got a warning first. 

“You’re a hoe, Joshua Michael.” I grabbed the scarf and pulled to the side. He inhaled sharply with a wheeze and looked daggers at me.

“Go on, I love high praises,” he spat. “Especially when they’re coming from your dirty mou…uuughn...” I didn’t let him finish the sentence. He would get what he asked for. Scrambling up as quickly as possible, I landed on my knees on each side of his head and sat on his face, effectively silencing him.  

And it was what he wanted. Grabbing my buttocks to pull me even closer, he instantly buried his tongue between my folds, making me gasp. I had to grab the headboard to keep myself from falling or hurting him as he enveloped my clit with his full lips and started sucking. This position was my Achilles heel and he got me there in no time. Two, maybe three minutes until my thighs started shaking. I looked down at him and he wiggled his eyebrows at me, before he closed his eyes and moaned loudly, as if he was eating the most delicious ice cream. Fucking tease. I inhaled sharply when he flattened his tongue and swirled it gently one more time around my swollen bud. The orgasm swept through me like an electric shock and I had to bite my forearm to muffle my scream. He was cruel, licking me through it and inducing more and more waves and aftershocks until I had to grab him by the hair and pull at it to still him. 

I creeped down his body, smearing my juices all over his skin and peppering his chest with kisses, before I straightened up again, hovering above him. “Tamed?” 

He looked up at me, ready to retort again, and finally saw the big silver hoop that hung from the ceiling right above my head. His eyes widened and sparkled with confused anticipation. “What’s that?”

I let out a satisfied exhale and smiled down at him. “That, my dear, is the surprise I got for you tonight.” I crawled towards the edge of my bed, opened the largest drawer of my bedside table and pulled out a silver chain with leather cuffs on each end. I let it fall on his chest. “Sit.” 

“What?”

“I said sit!” When he did, I pulled the chain through the hoop and told him to put his arms up. He was unnaturally silent all of the sudden, doing as told, and I fastened the cuffs around each wrist. When I was done, he just sat there, legs spread as I knelt between them, chest heaving and arms up, armpits glistening with sweat, just the way I wanted. He looked sinful. I admired this view so many times before, him reaching for those high notes or who knows what else. He would be reaching for pleasure tonight. First things first. I tugged at the scarf and pulled him closer to me, connecting our mouths in a searing kiss. He kept moaning as our tongues danced together. It made me even wetter. 

When I finally broke the kiss, I looked down at his cock, slightly reddened and rock hard, and ran my finger down his length. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered. “Do something…please!” 

Finally, the magic word. 

He cried out when I put him in my mouth and swallowed him whole. I could hear the chain rattling but I couldn’t see, lying on my stomach and fully immersed in giving him pleasure. He cried some more, and moaned and groaned and whimpered as I kept bobbing my head up and down, up…swirling my tongue around his leaking head, and down…tickling his balls with the stuck out tip until I gagged. I stopped only when his hips started jerking upwards, telling me he was very close. I wasn’t done yet, not until I felt him in me. 

I sat up again and saw the smeared mascara under his teary eyes. “Oh my baby, so beautiful,” I cooed and caressed his cheek, smearing it even more with my thumb. He looked exhausted and pursed his lips at me. “Please,” he whispered. 

I finally straddled him, positioned myself and slid down. His mouth opened wide but no sound came out. It made me pause for a second, raising my chin in a silent question. “Won’t last long,” he breathed out, so I started slowly, rolling my hips languidly, while I watched him watching me. The room fell silent, only our synchronized breathing permeating the air.

He looked down at the scarf, then back at me again, his eyes full of wicked gleam. I threw it over his shoulder and tugged at it from behind, making his head tilt. His ragged breathing and his barely noticeable, but content smile made me feel high. The intoxicating smell of his heated body made me even more lightheaded.  I hugged him tight and traced my parted lips up his jugular as I quickened my pace. His moans broke the silence again and I followed suit. Running my hands up and down his back, I could feel droplets of his sweat trickling down my biceps. I never believed in heaven, but this was close. Even closer to hell, maybe.

He wanted to take control, but couldn’t. Not without his arms supporting him. He was completely at my mercy and when I leaned back on my arms to get a better traction, the head of his cock hitting my inner pleasure button made me cry out. It didn’t take long and the spasms of my second release made me clench around him. In my high state of mind, I nearly missed his moment. Only his high-pitched scream pulled me back to reality. I had barely enough strength in me to untie him at last. And then we collapsed on the pillows, completely spent and happy. 

We often cuddled afterwards, we always showered together, but he never stayed. The sun was already rising when he left this time. I buried my face in my pillow to inhale his scent that always lingered. Falling asleep to the sweet and heady smell of Chergui was great comfort in twilight hours. Many times, I imagined what it would be like to just rest my head next to his and drift away like that, with his messy curls tickling the tip of my nose. Someone else had this privilege. Someone who loved him, and thus deserved it. 

In the middle of the night, I was sometimes honest with myself, admitting to myself that I loved him too. But that’s ok. Everybody’s got a secret.

@its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise @wetkleenex-gvf @lyndz2names

[crazyinlovewithbucky]

“don’t fill your void with me”

“Свою пустоту мною не заполняй”

Pairings: Villain!The Winter Solider!Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: this takes place in an alternative universe where Hydra took over the world and the winter soldier killed all Avengers and he became the leader of Hydra and he’s controlling the whole world. He saw you one day and he determined you were his and he made sure of that. making you live very comfortably as his “favorite” mistress and he turns very very soft with you.

Warnings: heavy smut, some fluff (if u squint), villain bucky turns sweet, oral (f receiving), jealousy, dark themes, dark!bucky to soft!bucky, dom bucky, lots of praise + lots of praise in Russian.

This was inspired by Яд by Erika Lundmoen

please read my author note it’s very important!

AU/N: this is only part one and still working on part two. thought I’d make this only one part but it was too long I had to cut it into two parts. I need to remind you that English is not my first language so excuse any misspelling or mispronunciation of any words or any grammatical mistakes lol. Hope you enjoy this dark fantasy I had of Bucky as I was wondering how he would be still a villain. Also, this was heavily inspired by ‘Yad’ (Яд) by Erika Lundmoen, I love this song so much and it always reminds me of Bucky in his Winter solider era. Enjoy loves xx

PART 1.

You sighed before swallowing that last sip of the red wine glass that the air hostess brought you. This was already your 3rd glass. You looked through the window to the dark clouds and the night sky as you kept thinking and wondering how you get here in the first place. It was somewhat a normal Friday late afternoon, you were getting ready for the evening, and your –rich new– friends have prepared for you. They were setting you up with a blind date, they said it’s a very handsome guy who's an heir to a big industrial company. You weren’t amused that much as none of them know your secret or your secret lover.

Then you remembered him, your secret mysterious lover, who’s the reason you’re living this lavish rich lifestyle. You remembered six years ago, on the news, you were watching Captain America getting brutally killed by none other than The Winter Soldier himself. You watched the fall of this new organization of superheroes and agents called “The Avengers” and the new world order seeing light under the hands of The Winter Soldier. Hydra ruled and controlled every country in the world, including the USA. It was three years ago when you saw on the news that every leader and all the rulers of Hydra were killed and it was an inside job. The Winter Solider rebelled and killed every single one of them and he, alone, became the new Hydra leader, recruiting super soldiers and making the biggest army of super soldiers known to man.

A year ago, you were just a normal waitress girl, in a hotel restaurant, minding your own business and working just to make ends meet. You weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth and your upbringing was very normal and somewhat poor. Until one day your boss came and told you there will be a very important diplomatic meeting that’s happening in the hotel and he assigned you and two of your coworkers to wait on the leaders and diplomats. On this same very evening, you saw him for the first time. The Winter Solider. Bucky Barnes. Captain America’s best friend who was brainwashed by Hydra and was under control for decades. He was so charismatic, terrifying, very handsome, and absolutely dangerous. Just like a fallen angel, just like Lucifer himself. You were drawn to him at first glance until he noticed you and made eye contact with you. Your heart skipped a beat then, there was a connection between you both, you were certain of this as at first glance, you saw his face change emotion and he was staring at you.

-

“барышня, only 5 minutes till landing” You were brought back to reality from that memory train you were on by the sound of the bodyguard on your left. you nodded to him with a smile and fastened your seat belt around your hips.

Looking back at your past now made you wonder if you actually deserve to live this life or not, to go everywhere with a private plane like the one you’re in now. To live in the finest, most luxurious apartment in Brooklyn, to have rich friends and live a rich lifestyle, to attend galas and be the face of many luxury brands, all because of him, all because he liked you the first time he saw you, all because he promised you to make all your wishes and dreams come true only if you became his, all because he wanted his “favorite one” to be separate from the other women and to live like a princess whose all her dreams are granted.

In fact, you didn’t ask for any of this at all, but you loved the idea that he made all of this for you just because he thinks you’re worthy of it. In the end, you were “his favorite”.

The plane landed in the small very private airport near his mansion in Russia. you had your fur coat covering you. At least, you were dressed very fancy for the ball you were going to with your friends to meet your blind date. As you were about to leave your apartment, you were met by Bucky’s super soldiers' bodyguards at the front door of your apartment, telling you that The King wants you now. So you didn’t argue, you nodded and just took your bag and phone and left with them. This was your deal with him, him giving you whatever you want and desire in life, and you being available and there whenever he calls for you or want you. He has the plane ready for you and super soldiers protecting you and going everywhere with you, in case something goes wrong.

The guards guided you into the mansion and into Bucky’s suite which took up the whole second floor of the mansion. You walked with them till you arrived in front of the door of his office then they left you there alone. You knocked slightly.

“входить” his voice was deep and calm, you just felt butterflies in your stomach as you were very anxious and excited to see him, it’s been nearly a month since your last meeting with him and you missed him dearly. You opened the door and entered and as soon as you closed it behind you, he looked up from the pile of papers in front of him, his hair was perfectly combed, and he grew his beard, which was a very new look on him but also a very sexy one. He grinned widely as soon as his eyes met yours. “ahhh моя кукла”. he stood up from behind his desk and you walked closer to him and he moved closer to you too.

He kissed you very deeply and passionately before hugging you tightly, you hugged him back and buried your face in his neck. “Missed you so much, кукла” he whispered in your ear and kissed your neck softly.

“Missed you too, James” you smiled softly and he started to rub your back slightly.

You didn’t actually know how to address him, didn’t know if you should call him sir, king, soldier, Bucky, or James. You never actually asked, but you found James to be just perfect as you felt weirded out to call him sir or king. ‘James’ was good enough based on the relationship you both had, you were not actually lovers or boyfriend and girlfriend to be intimate and call him Bucky and yet you both weren’t platonic or had a strict respectful relationship to call him sir. so ‘James’ did the job perfectly.

At least, he didn’t complain about whatever you call him.

He removed your fur coat slowly and looked at your body and your fancy dress. “You look so beautiful,” he held your hand and spun you around to take a good look at the dress. It was a tall tight dress that hugs your curves perfectly with a very long slit on the left that shows your whole left leg from your upper thigh to your left foot. It was burgundy colored with a black sheer silk attached to it that gives the dress a matte look under lights. “did you get all dolled up for me?” he smirked at you when his eyes left your body and met your eyes.

“Well, umm-,” he leaned back on his office desk and sat on its edge and pulled you to him slowly “you didn’t give me any heads up that we were supposed to meet so I was actually going to a ball party with a bunch of friends” you looked down to your hands playing with his black suit’s blazer, trying to hide the truth that you were going on a blind date.

The thing you didn’t know about Bucky is that he is very good at reading body language and the second you broke eye contact and said that, he knew you were hiding something and that’s not the truth. But he didn’t want to confront you yet about it so he took it slowly. “Oh really?” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as your chests now touching and he has a perfect view of your boobs as it’s pushed up from the tight dress. “what kind of a ball party?” he moved his head and start kissing your neck.

“A normal one.” you bit your lower lip as his kisses now moved down to your shoulders and collarbone.

“normal one? what kind of a ball is that exactly?” he chuckled while his right hand moved down slightly and he started rubbing your left butt cheek as his kisses never stopped and his lips moved down to your chest, leaving more kisses.

“Just a normal ball party, James” you sighed, feeling more frustrated as you are getting more turned on by his touching and kisses and you feel yourself getting wetter, you can’t stand wearing your panties anymore, it’s getting more uncomfortable as you are soaked down there.

“A normal ball party where rich people gather around for whatever reason, stuffing their faces with crab cakes and drinking champagne until they’re passed out,” you said with an annoyed tone as you can’t just stand the teasing anymore.

The relationship you had with Bucky was just casual sex every now and then unless that was what you thought it was until 8 months ago, he started to show more feelings, starting saying “I miss you”, “I want you”, “you are beautiful”, “my girl”, “my favorite girl”, “my doll”, “baby girl”, but never the word “love”. He started being more romantic. Taking you on dates, of course, they were secret private dates as he was a known criminal and he shouldn’t be seen in public at all but with his power and money, he can rent or buy any restaurant or place in the world just so you both could enjoy your time and dates together.

He was very gentle with you, protecting you, getting you a big apartment in Brooklyn which was like 3 blocks away from his childhood home, he didn’t mention that at all but you knew it when you went to the Captain America museum and explored the whole room dedicated to Sargent James Buchanan Barnes, Captain America’s best friend.

You learned a lot about him, actually about the old him. Now, he’s just the winter solider, the cold blooded murderer who killed all his superiors and killed the avengers and is now running the Hydra organization and having the biggest super soldiers army in the universe.

But at least, he had a soft spot for you.

He moved his hands to the back of your thighs and lift you up, your legs wrapped quickly around his waist, which was sort of a habit as he loved picking you up like this, like his small girl. he kept looking at you and murmuring I miss yous and you look so beautiful, against your lips while kissing you and walking towards his bedroom, there was only a wall between his office and his bedroom. he opened the door, and his room wasn’t unfamiliar to you but you were just amazed every time by how big and wide it is. The ceiling is so high up and the walls are filled with paintings and mirrors.

He put you on his king-sized bed and you just laid on your back, looking at him. He smirked at you and moved his hands down your dress and took off your panties, freeing your soaked cunt from the now-uncomfortable material. “So, it was just a normal ball party with normal rich friends, huh?” he held your left ankle and pulled it up, and rested it on his shoulder. you nodded and saw him undoing the straps of your heels and taking them off. “Are you sure about that, кукла?” he gave you a very intense look and at that moment you knew that he knows you were hiding something so keeping it hidden won’t do you any good. “You know I hate it when you lie to me.” he rubbed your ankle and calf slowly, giving it a simple soft massage.

“I am not lying to you” Your tone was serious. “My friend, Emma, she set me up on a blind date with this guy,” you saw his facial expression get more tense and his hand tightened on your ankle a bit harder. “I mean, no one knows that I’m- umm, that we-… you know, together” Your tone was shaky as you started to get more anxious as his grip hardened on your ankle. “they just thought I’m single and wanted me to have a date so-..”

“So you decided to dress and doll up for a strange man, didn’t you?” he cut you off suddenly as you can see he started to get angry.

“No, they don’t know about us. No one knows. So I’m just playing the part. acting it. That’s it.” you said with a sad tone, breaking eye contact with him and looking up at the ceiling and huffing. this is truly what you felt like. Playing a part in Bucky’s world. Being nothing more than his sex doll and his mistress. You hate the fact that you wanted him and wanted to be with him forever and you just can’t handle living this lifestyle anymore. Yes, it’s a blessing but you didn’t want all of that, you didn’t ask for any of that. You just wanted him.

“Well, this dress is no good anymore. Can I tear it apart?” he put your left leg back again on the bed and pulled your other leg by the ankle and on his shoulder and removed your heels from this one too.

“Why isn’t it good anymore? I think it’s pretty.” you looked at him confused, not knowing what the dress has to do with anything.

“It is pretty but now, for me, it’s what you wore for another man’s eyes and not mine. I hate it now.” he pulled it up to your upper thighs and your legs are now bared to him.

“But what am I going to wear when I leave? Can’t just be wearing my fur coat. It’s freezing outside.” he chuckled darkly at your words and looked at you with a dark smirk on his face.

“As much as it would be so fucking hot of you to not wear anything except for a fur coat, I can get you any other dress that you want,” he grabbed the dress from its slit on your left thigh with his metal hand and ripped it open until the dress was fully ripped from the left side. “anyways, you’re staying for the whole weekend with me, I don’t want you wearing any clothes at all.” he moved up to meet your eyes and he pepper kissed your jawline. “and if you got cold, you can wear my clothes, my wardrobe is all yours, милая” he ripped and removed the dress from your body, leaving you fully naked underneath him.

you moaned slightly as his hands roamed your body, massaging and rubbing your boobs while his tongue is attacking your lips and mouth, kissing your hungrily. You opened your legs more for him, signaling to him where you wanted him the most. he removed himself from on top of you to get undressed. He removed all of his clothes and got on top of you again, kissing you passionately then starting to kiss you all over. Leaving marks and love bites all over your body, showing you who you truly belong.

“ты моя навсегда, куколка” his voice is raspy and deep, he moved his head down and kissed and sucked on your nipples, of course leaving marks and love bites on your boobs too. You were so needy for him and a part of you was glad that he was as much as needy for you as you are of him.

“James, please. I need you so bad. Please fuck me” you whined and opened your legs more for him. he pulled his head up and looked at you with nothing but pure lust in his now dark blue eyes.

“No, baby doll. No fucking. I missed you too much to just fuck you. I’m going to make love to you ‘cause you deserve this, honey. you’ve earned this.” he kissed your lips passionately but you were just startled, confused, and slightly shocked. You kept wondering why he would say such things and do such things. It’s the first time you ever see him being like this to you or talking like this to you. You were sick of these feelings you have for him and he was just toying around with them.

“You make love to someone you love, James. What we have isn’t love” You looked directly into his eyes with a concerned look on your face.

“Maybe you are right,” these words went straight to your heart and smashed it. You had a little hope he would correct you and tell you he loves you. “But tonight, just pretend that we’re in love. act it like you just said you’re acting it and playing a part.” you wondered if toying with your feelings like this was his way to punish you for what you just said about playing a part in your new life. “make me make love to you. make me show you how you’re supposed to be loved. Or at least humor me, принцесса” his mouth never left your face or your body. He couldn’t stop kissing you and leaving marks everywhere on your neck and body. You weren’t sure what his intentions were by what he just said. A little part of you hoped he meant what he was saying.

You felt his cock twitch against your thigh and felt him leaking. You couldn’t hold it any longer and you lift your hips up to meet his. Signaling to him that you need him. “I’ll give you whatever you want, just let me take my time with you first. I missed you too much” He said between breaths and kisses as he’s now moving down, kissing and leaving love bites all over your belly. “missed this belly,” he kissed your belly button. “missed my little ladies,” he grabbed your boobs with his hands as his mouth kept going down to your lower belly.

“but I missed this pretty girl the most.” you could feel his hot breath against your soaked cunt now, gushing more at the new nickname he gave to your pussy. he groaned when he saw you gushing and your slick is wetting the bed underneath you, making a mess everywhere. he looked up at you and you locked eyes with him while he slowly licked a long stripe between your folds, never breaking eye contact. This sight alone had you crying out and shutting your eyes while throwing your head back on the pillows.

Bucky kept flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud and sucking on it. He was really taking his time, he wasn’t fast or hard. He was simply just eating you out, slowly, gently, like he actually wants to taste you. You were so needy that you wanted more than that. You started pushing your hips more into his face and grinding slowly. “Greedy aren’t we, my little girl?” He got up and wiped his chain from your glistening slick with the back of his hand.

He got on top of you again and pressed his lips against yours, and you can taste yourself on his lips. he licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance and you opened your mouth happily for him, licking his tongue and tasting more of yourself. “Do you know what do you taste like?” he broke the kiss but his lips were right above yours. you shook your head slightly and bit your lips. “Like fucking peaches.” he pushed his tongue into your mouth again, kissing and licking it all over. “You taste like fucking peaches, especially your pussy.” you moaned into his mouth “You’re driving me insane, принцесса. Guess peaches are my new favorite fruit”.

He buried his face in your neck, attacking the sensitive skin again with kisses, especially that sweet spot that gets you all turned on and horny. As if you’re not going to lose your mind already from how horny you are. You could feel his tip pushing slightly on your clit and you were just a moaning mess at this point. “Ready for me, love?” he lifted his head and rested his head on your forehead, locking eyes with you.

“Always, Bucky” you whispered, his whole expression changed. his eyes widened a bit at the sound of his name slipping out of your mouth like honey. He hadn’t heard this name in so long, and you say it like this had his heart beating faster, if he wasn’t in love with you before, he believes now he is.

………………………………………………………………..

PART TWO

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

the last great american dynasty

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6.8k (whoops)

summary:

Joel Miller has loved the historic Victorian home in his neighborhood since the first time he laid eyes on it. When the elderly owner passes, he thinks he might get his chance to finally buy it and fix it up.

He doesn’t expect to find you, the granddaughter of the previous owner and trustee of her estate, standing in the way of his dream

author's note:

inspo board this work is inspired by taylor swift's song "the last great american dynasty" and is part of the folklore album anthology! if you enjoy, please consider reblogging/commenting and make sure to check out the other works by the amazing collaborators on this project.

tags/warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n, work contains journal entries as part of the plot, porn with plot, pre-outbreak!joel, grandma is a named OFC, sassy reader, dirty talk, teasing, praise, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paint as a flirting mechanism, mild enemies to lovers, pet names. let me know if there are any missing!

August 20, 1948

I have arrived in Texas. I am uncertain where to go or what to do. For so long I’ve answered only to George, but now I am my own woman and the world before me has suddenly become much bigger, seemingly overnight.

I just hope it will be good for me.

-R

PRESENT DAY

If there’s one thing you never expected, it’s to inherit a mansion from a grandmother that you’ve never spoken to. As far as you were aware that kind of thing only happened in movies, so receiving a phone call from an estate lawyer that had been trying to locate you for a whole year since this mystery woman’s passing was a complete shock.

Now you find yourself with a car full of your belongings driving cross country to a sleepy suburb of Austin, Texas. The first stop is the lawyer’s office, where a secretary eyes you warily as you sit in the lobby of the lush office suite, fingers toying with a loose thread on the t-shirt you’d been wearing for the last eight-hour leg of your road trip.

A voice calls your name from a door just past the secretary’s desk, an older man with white hair and a deeply wrinkled face smiling kindly at you. You stand, shaking his hand as you pass by him into his office. He gestures to the wingback chairs that face his impressive dark wood desk. You take in the diplomas on the wall and the floor to ceiling bookshelves lined with thick, leather bound tomes. 

“I appreciate you comin’ all the way out here so quickly. You were quite the tough one to find,” the man says with a chuckle. He pulls out a thick envelope, cream colored with swooping, swirling handwriting across the front reading your name. “Your grandmother was a dear friend of mine. She established a trust in your name not long after you were born.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m still a little confused. I didn’t even know I had a grandmother,” you admit quietly. He nods solemnly. 

“She never told me all the details, but there had been a falling out between her and her daughter. They kept their distance after that.” When you don’t say anything, mind too busy racing with the questions that you suppose only your mom can answer now, he continues. “Would you like the review the details of the trust?”

“Um, sure. I guess that’s why I’m here, after all.”

He slips a piece of paper from the folder, sliding it across the desk. The same swirling handwriting fills the page.

My Dearest,

You may not know me, but I’ve watched you grow in photographs and letters since you were born. You mean the world to me, even if I could not fit in the world that your mother created for you. I respected that choice, hurt though it may have.  She had her own path to forge, just as I did, and just as you will. I am eternally grateful for the parts of her life she did share after she left.  

In the event of my passing, I leave my estate to you in its entirety. I built my true happiness in those walls, and I hope you can do the same.

-R

You read the letter twice, eyes stinging with tears. A tissue box slides across the desk, and you pluck two sheets out gratefully. 

“In this envelope are the more official documents. The deed transfer that will need your signature, beneficiary statements for her banking and savings accounts, things like that. My office will handle all the paperwork filing,” the man says. A few more forms are laid out on the desk, and you lean forward to read them. 

“Holy shit,” you snap, eyes wide as you swipe the beneficiary statement from the wood. “There must be too many zeroes in this, right? Or a rogue comma? That can’t be the right amount.”

“I assure you that’s the correct amount,” he says with a laugh. “And if you’ll sign down there, it’ll be transferred to your name and designated account.”

Your mouth goes dry as you read through the rest of the documents. In addition to the sizeable amount of money about to hit your bank account, there’s a five-bedroom house being transferred into your name, as well as a safety deposit box. You sign each form where directed, sliding them back over to the lawyer. 

“I believe this is yours,” he says, holding a house key out to you. He drops it into your open palm. “Good luck.”

“I wish they would just put that place up for sale already,” Joel grumbles from the passenger seat of his brother’s truck as they drive by the out-of-place 1920s Victorian home on their way to a job site. 

“You’ve been sayin’ that for the past year since that poor old woman passed,” Tommy says with a laugh. “Give it up, brother. Your dream house is just goin’ to rot away before your eyes.”

“Don’t you say that,” Joel replies. He doesn’t need Tommy speaking his fear into the universe. 

The house has already been showing signs of falling apart in the last ten years Joel has lived in the neighborhood. The roof needs work, the shutters need replacing, the lawn is overgrown, and there’s a sizable hole in the wrap-around porch that seems to get bigger over time.

He’s wanted that house since the first time he saw it while he was house hunting ten years ago, a then three-year-old Sarah on his hip as he toured a nice little house that was available in the neighborhood at the time. While the home he’s built with his daughter through long days of hard work is nothing to scoff at, he’s always dreamed of something with more character and story. 

He just hopes he’ll get his chance.

You stare up at the old house in front of you, shielding your eyes from the late afternoon sun. It’s a beautiful house, though there’s no denying its seen better days – two stories with large bay windows on both floors, white wood siding and chipped red shutters that are clinging to their rusty hardware, a large wrap around porch that has vines encroaching on the banisters, a lawn overgrown with weeds. You tentatively climb the steps of the porch, peeking nervously into the large hole in the wood to the left of the front door.

“That’s private property,” a gruff voice calls out, making you jump. You turn, finding a man standing on the sidewalk with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “You ain’t supposed to be snoopin’ around.”

“Actually—”

“Why don’t you just head home, sweetheart, and I won’t have to call the cops,” the stranger says, cutting you off. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“This is—”

The man huffs, arms dropping as he digs in the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a cell phone. “Seriously, I’ll give you until the count of three. We don’t need trouble around this neighborhood, alright?”

The nerve, you think, narrowing your eyes at the man. Since he clearly doesn’t want to hear what you have to say, you decide to take a different route. You reach into the pocket of your shorts, pulling out the key that the lawyer had given you earlier that day. You take a sideways step closer to the door, keeping your eyes on the man as you pointedly insert the key into the lock and opening the heavy wood door.

His mouth drops open in surprise and you smile at him.

“You were saying?”

Joel had seen the car parked in the driveway of the empty house when Tommy dropped him off after work. He’d quickly checked on Sarah, newly thirteen and fiercely independent, finding her working on her homework at the kitchen table, before making his way across the street. 

He hadn’t expected to find a gorgeous woman snooping around the old house, curves hugged in denim shorts and a tank top that made his mouth water. He also hadn’t expected the woman to produce a key from the pocket of those sinfully tight shorts.

“You were saying?” You ask, lips curved in a smirk and eyebrows raised at him. When Joel doesn’t immediately reply, still too stunned that you have access to the house, you turn and walk through the door, shutting it behind you. 

He finally shakes himself of his shock, bounding up the steps and knocking on the door. You pull it back open.

“I’ll buy it from you,” Joel says immediately.

“Excuse me?” You reply, your hands moving to your hips. “It’s not for sale.”

“Come on, what’s a girl like you need all this space for?” Your mouth drops open, pretty lips stretched wide in surprise and Joel struggles to keep his thoughts from drifting to sinful places. 

“A girl like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re young, that’s all. You don’t need a house this big and this much of a project!”

“What makes you think I don’t have a big ol’ family I’m moving in here? Four kids and a loving husband?!”

Joel blinks. “You got four kids and a lovin’ husband?”

“No, but that’s besides the point.” You roll your eyes, jabbing a finger at his chest. “It’s not for sale. Now get off my porch before I call the cops on you.”

With that final word, the door shuts in Joel’s face again, the sound of your retreating footsteps signaling the end of the discussion.

November 12, 1948

There’s a gentleman who comes into the diner every Tuesday. He always sits in one of my booths, with his perfect hair and suit and handsome face distracting me until he leaves. Some of the other waitresses try talking to him but he doesn’t pay them any mind. They’ve whispered to me before that he comes from money - oil, or something, not that it matters. 

His name is William, and I think he’s trying to steal my heart.

-R

“So, let me get this straight. First, you threatened to call the police on this woman. Then, rather than introducin’ yourself or welcomin’ her to the neighborhood or even apologizin’, you just go straight to tellin’ her she doesn’t need a house that big and that you wanna buy it from her. Did I hear that right?” Tommy says, watching Joel as he throws together dinner the following evening. 

“Yeah, that sums it up,” Sarah says. Joel huffs.

“Well, when you put it like that.” He sips his beer as his daughter and brother share a look. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothin’,” they say in tandem. Joel narrows his eyes as Sarah breaks out in giggles. Tommy stands, heading to Joel’s pantry and rifling through the shelves until he finds an unopened bottle of whiskey buried in the back.

“What are you doin’ with that?” Joel asks. 

“Welcomin’ your new neighbor like the gentleman I am. Sarah, watch the pasta while I show your dad how it’s done,” Tommy replies, heading for the front door, Joel trailing behind him. 

Tommy crosses the street with quick steps, eyeing the porch dubiously as he knocks on the door. Joel stands beside him, hands shoved in his pockets as he curses under his breath about his brother’s stupid antics.

You open the door, dressed this time in a pretty sundress that makes Joel’s mouth go dry. Tommy flashes you a grin and Joel can’t help the annoyance he feels when his brother’s eyes trail over your body.

“Hey there! I’m Tommy Miller, you may have met my dumbass brother over here the other day. I’m certain he didn’t make the best impression, so I just wanted to come over and welcome you to the neighborhood,” he says, holding the whiskey out to you. 

You introduce yourself, ignoring Joel. “Thank you so much, Tommy. Would you like to come in?”

“Sure thing,” his traitorous brother replies, stepping over the threshold. When Joel makes a move to follow, you give him a pointed look before shutting the door in his face. 

“You want a beer, Tommy?” You ask the handsome man in your kitchen. You can’t help but be impressed by the genetics of the Miller family, both men tall and tan and handsome as hell. Sure, one of them could use a lesson on manners, but you’ll admit that since your confrontation your mind has drifted to thoughts of brown eyes and soft dark hair that belong to the brother you left on the porch out of spite.

“Yes, please,” Tommy says politely. You open the dated refrigerator and grab two beer bottles, popping the caps against the countertop and handing one to him. “This sure is a nice place.”

“Thanks. I just inherited it from my grandma,” you explain. “It’s a little…dated.”

He chuckles. “We call it ‘character’ in contractin’.”

“That what you guys do, then? Contracting?”

“Sure is. Miller Brothers Contracting and Construction.” Tommy scratches at the label on the bottle before saying, “Look, I know my brother can come off the wrong way. He didn’t get the social genes. But he’s a good guy, and he’s loved this house since the first time he saw it. Always wanted to buy it, fix it up, raise his little girl here. Maybe add to his family one day.”

You look around the rundown kitchen. You’ve only been here a day and you know you’ve got your work cut out for you. The electrical and plumbing are all outdated, the appliances need replacing, the floors need to be refurbished, and that’s just the first floor. You could use some help with it all, and maybe the grumpy contractor next door who cares about the house could help you with it all.

“I appreciate that he loves the house but…I never met my grandma. Never even knew who she was or that she was even alive, and it’s the only connection I have to her. I don’t know if this is going to be my forever but…I want to at least give it a shot.”

Tommy smiles. “We could help with that.”

It feels like ages before Tommy’s stepping back out onto the porch, a beer in his hand that makes Joel frown.

“Y’all were havin’ drinks while I sat out here like an ass?” He asks incredulously. Tommy throws an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

“Yes, and if you don’t quit your whinin’ I’m not goin’ to tell you about our lovely conversation,” the younger man says as he walks with Joel back to his house.

In the kitchen, Sarah is pouring the pasta sauce and ground beef over the noodles. Joel takes over and waves her away, mumbling his thanks as he mixes the ingredients together. He sets up two plates, setting one in front of his daughter and sitting down with the other. Tommy makes an affronted sound before fixing his own plate.

“So?” Joel asks. Tommy slurps at his food.

“Was the lady nice?” Sarah asks.

“No,” Joel replies at the same time Tommy says, “Yes.” 

Joel glares at Tommy. “You gonna tell me what she said or what?”

“She ain’t sellin’,” Tommy finally says. “But, she wants to fix the place up. Offered our services so you could get your grubby fuckin’ hands in there.”

“Language,” Joel says, eyes flicking to Sarah. The girl rolls her eyes. “Really?”

“Yep. Better start callin’ the guys. From what I saw we’re dealin’ with electrical from the 50s, plumbing from who knows when, not to mention the HVAC and roof will need to be upgraded, too.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin before grinning at Joel. “You up for the challenge?”

“Hell yeah.”

August 23, 1949

William and I have just been married.

I know, I know. I can’t believe it either. But he is truly the light of my life.

The wedding was charming, if a little gauche. I’m still not abreast of all these new societal expectations that surround a man like William, but I’m willing to try. Today he will be taking me around to view houses in the more opulent neighborhoods, the type of homes I used to gawk at but one of them will be mine.

I must be dreaming.

-R

Joel and Tommy start working on the house right away. Every day there’s a line of pick-up trucks parked on the curb and the sounds of construction start early in the morning and continue into the late evening. The electrician and plumber come through first, updating the wiring and pipes through the whole house. The roofers and HVAC come through next, replacing the crumbling shingles and dated central unit with a split system for each level of the house.

It’s not until the big projects are done that you get to have fun with the place, which is how you found yourself methodically painting the front door a muted lime green early one morning. 

“What do you think you’re doin’?” 

You sigh. Despite Tommy’s assurances that Joel is a great guy beneath the grumpy control freak exterior, you’ve continued to only get the side of the man that grates your nerves.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m painting the door.”

“You can’t paint the door that color,” Joel says, heavy footsteps stomping up your newly repaired porch. 

“Says who?” You retort. You smear another stroke of paint over the sanded wood.

“Me, for one. The historical society, for two.” He pulls the brush from your hand and holds it above his head and out of your reach. The movement drags his shirt up, exposing a strip of tan belly with a trail of dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his jeans.  “Why are you bein’ a pain in the ass?”

“I was put on this earth simply to make your life more difficult, Joel Miller. Isn’t that obvious?” You reply sarcastically. He mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like you got that right. “What are you even doing over here? It’s Saturday.”

“We’re goin’ to the store. You gotta start pickin’ stuff out for the bathrooms and kitchen,” he says, tossing the paint brush into the tray. “And then we’re gettin’ a new color to cover this up.”

Joel leaves the porch and you follow behind him to the black pick-up truck idling by the sidewalk. He opens the passenger door for you and you raise your eyebrow at the gesture but climb inside.

January 3, 1950

Our New Year’s party is the talk of the town. There were so many people in the house I began to lose count. William had so much champagne ordered I swear we could fill an entire swimming pool with it all. 

The ladies at the club have already begun to ask when we would host our next event. I can’t wait to plan another.

-R

“Can you please focus?” Joel begs, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He’s laid out three tile combinations, one for each bathroom in the home, and he needs you to look at them but you keep getting distracted.

“You’re no fun,” you huff. You examine the tiles, pointing to a turquoise blue one he’s picked for the shower in the master. “I love that.”

He looks at you in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned. She can be reasoned with.”

You giggle and Joel can’t help the smile it prompts from him, the sound of your laugh so sweet compared to your sharp tongue. 

“I like the white and blue combinations for upstairs, but in that powder room I want a pink theme,” you tell him. Your eyes search the displays, landing on a blush pink glass subway tile option. “Like this!”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Joel replies without thinking, taking the sample from you and comparing it next to the floor tile he’d chosen for that bathroom. When he glances at you, you’re giving him a confused look. “What?”

“Nothing,” you reply, shaking your head. “What about the kitchen?”

“What were you thinking for in there?”

“Green cabinets. White and black backsplash, the kind with the little hexagons that look like flowers. I gotta pick out appliances now that the electrical can sustain newer ones, too.” You pause. “And how do you feel about wallpaper?”

“It’s the devil,” Joel replies.

Your grin is downright mischievous. “Excellent.”

February 2, 1956

William had a heart attack. It scared me so badly that I haven’t let him out of my sight since. The doctor said he’s been working too hard, drinking too much, and not sleeping enough. Maybe the parties have started to be too much for him. 

I’ve been feeling unlike myself. Tired, nauseated. Hopefully my heart isn’t troubled, too.

-R

Joel places a hefty order for all the items you’ve picked out today from nearly every aisle of the store - tile for the bathrooms and kitchen, vanities and plumbing fixtures, countertops, lighting, and appliances. While he’s preoccupied with calculations and measurements and pricing things out, you pick out paint and wallpaper for the projects you’ll be able to do on your own.

He finds you a while later, a cart full of paint buckets and supplies. To your surprise, he grins. 

“More paint, huh? You pick a new one for the door?” He asks. You smile back at him, butterflies erupting in your tummy. 

“Yep. Does navy blue suffice, your highness? I thought we could paint the trim the same color.”

Joel nods. “Good choice. Look, I’ve kept you here so long for all the orderin’. You wanna get lunch?”

“Careful, Joel. I’m like a stray cat - once you start feeding me, I might never leave,” you reply with a laugh. You push your heavy cart of paint towards the exit.

You miss the soft smile he gives to your retreating figure.

September 23, 1956

Our daughter is here. She’s the sweetest little thing, though she can screech like a banshee when she sees fit. William is so besotted, he keeps looking between the two of us with stars in his eyes like he can’t believe how lucky he is.

I love them both with my whole heart and soul.

-R

Joel takes you to a retro family diner with black-and-white checkerboard flooring and red vinyl accents with a vintage jukebox in the corner. You’re delighted by the themed menu, eyes immediately zeroing in on the classic malt shakes and french fries. 

Over lunch, Joel actually opens up to you. He tells you about going into construction right out of high school and dragging Tommy into it when he’d gotten back from serving his tour with the Army. He talks about his daughter, Sarah, and you can’t help the smile that stretches your lips as you watch his eyes light up while he talks about his little girl. She’s at a sleepover this weekend, which gave him the extra time to visit the home improvement store this morning.

In turn, you tell him about getting the call from the lawyer one afternoon that changed your life forever. How you’d packed up everything you owned and driven across the country to find out that you had a grandmother that your mother never told you about that left you her entire estate. 

“Wow. That’s…wow,” Joel says when you’ve paused to take a sip of your chocolate shake. 

“Excuse me?” A voice asks. You both look up at the elderly woman dressed in a  t-shirt with the restaurant’s logo and pressed slacks. She smiles. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and ever since you sat down I’ve been wrackin’ my brain tryin’ to place your face and it’s just hit me.”

She holds out a framed black and white photo of six waitresses standing beneath the same sign that’s still out front, all of them grinning at the camera. There’s one face, however, that looks familiar despite you never having seen her.

“Her name was Rebecca. We used to work together. That’s me, right there,” she says, pointing to the girl standing to the woman’s left. “Rolled up to town at eighteen, fresh off a divorce and hardly a penny to her name. My daddy, god rest his soul, he owned the restaurant and gave her a job when she’d come through lookin’ for work.”

“Wow,” you murmur. “This is insane. Do you have any other pictures?”

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “‘Fraid not, darlin’. Just the one. But I know she kept a lot of journals. Was always scribblin’ in one and spent what little extra cash she had makin’ sure she had a new notebook ready. Maybe they’re still around?”

July 16, 1958

William…

William is gone. My light, my love, my world. The doctor said his heart just…stopped. In his sleep, right beside me. 

I have to continue to live with a hole in my own heart, the piece that William stole years ago gone with him. 

But I have to be strong for our daughter. Our brave girl, my little bird.

-R

When Joel brings you back to the house, you stare up at the facade, wondering if the journals the woman had spoken about could still be inside. Lost in thought, your eyes land on the little window that sits above the bay windows on the second floor, where the master bedroom is. You’ve been sleeping in that room for months now and you know there’s no window there that you can see from the inside. 

“Hey, Joel?” You call out, eyes still fixed on the little window like it might disappear if you look away. “This place is only two stories. How come there’s a window there?”

He looks up at the roof. “Huh. Might be decorative?”

“Or it might be a secret room,” you tell him.

“Okay, Sherlock. Let’s go see.”

You lead him upstairs to the master bedroom, most of your grandma’s furniture still present save for the bed that you replaced upon arriving. You stare up at the ceiling, but it’s smooth - no trap doors to be found.

“If I were a secret door, where would I hide?” You ask.

Joel, who’d been poking his head into the walk-in closet, replies, “Probably the closet.”

There’s a creak of old hinges as Joel reaches up high and tugs the brass pull handle fixed in the ceiling. A descending ladder falls to the ground and you both stare at each other in surprise.

“I’ll go grab a flashlight,” Joel offers, sprinting from the room. You stare up at the hole in the ceiling, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

He returns quickly. “I’ll go up first.”

“Ever the gentleman,” you tease, watching as he ascends the ladder, your eyes shamelessly fixed to his ass as he climbs. You hear the click of the flashlight and see the sweep of the beam through the opening in the ceiling. “Anything?”

“Lots of suitcases. Hang on, let me grab one of the small ones,” he calls down. There’s the sound of something being dragged across the floor before he’s slowly lowering a leather suitcase into your hands. 

It’s surprisingly heavy and you drag it by the handle to the bedroom, kneeling on the ground to pop the latches and open the dusty lid. Inside are stacks of leather bound notebooks, edges of the pages yellow with age. 

“I’ll be damned,” Joel says, wiping his palms against his jeans. “We found the journals.”

Joel drags the suitcase downstairs, setting it in the living room for you while you order pizza and open a bottle of wine for the occasion. You sit beside each other on the couch and he hands you a journal that you carefully open. 

May 17, 1974

We had another argument last night. She claims that I’ve been too overbearing, too protective, too stifling, but what else is a mother meant to do? 

-R

May 18, 1974

Her bed was cold and empty this morning. Her piggy bank smashed to bits on the floor and her drawers cleared. Despite my tight grip, my little bird has flown away.

It appears that history does repeat itself. Imagine that.

-R

“Holy shit,” you say, sitting back on the couch with your glass of wine in one hand and one of your grandma’s journals in the other. “She ran away.”

“Who did?” Joel asks, biting into a slice of pizza. 

“My mom. She just…packed up and disappeared.” You glance at him. “Guess that’s why I never knew about her.”

“Maybe you should stop uncoverin’ dark family secrets for the night,” Joel suggests. “You know, the dining room could stand to be painted.”

You glance over to the room in question. Joel must have set down the drop cloth on the floor while you’d been engrossed in your discovery.

“Sure. Why not,” you acquiesce. 

October 29, 1976

I’ve received an envelope of photographs in the mail, pictures of my daughter holding a little baby. She’s written notes on the back of each one. I’m a grandmother.

My daughter looks happy. Healthy. That’s all I can ask. She didn’t provide a return address. 

As for the baby…I love her so much. She takes my breath away. I keep one of the photos on me at all times.

-R

Joel turns on the radio while he works, humming along to the classic rock station selections. He’s been working on painting the wall near the wood molding while he left you with a paint roller to cover the middle of the wall. He looks up at you occasionally, admiring the way your muscles work as you wash the wall with color. 

You must sense that he’s watching, turning your head over your shoulder and looking at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he says. You smile at him, setting the roller in the tray. He can’t help but look at your ass in your tight leggings as you bend over.

You straighten up, walking over to him. There’s a glint in your eye that has Joel on high alert.

“You got a little something on your face,” you tell him. 

“No, I don’t,” he counters. He’s a master at painting. He knows damn well he doesn’t have a drop on him.

“Yeah, you do,” you argue. You reach out, and your fingers smooth across his forehead. “Right there!”

Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise and he lets out a bark of laughter, bringing his fingers up to his forehead. When he pulls his hand away, they’re stained blue and you’re grinning at him like a mad woman.

“Yeah? Well, you got some right—“ He smears his paintbrush across your chest and you try to step back, but it’s too late. “—there,” he finishes.

You rush back to the paint tray and dip your hands in the liquid, brandishing your palms like weapons. He starts to advance on you, smirking as you back up.

“Stay back,” you command. Joel laughs, dodging your swinging arms as he charges, dropping low to press a shoulder into your belly, dragging you down to the ground in a heap of limbs.

He presses his body to yours as he reaches an arm out to the paint tray, covering his own hand in paint. Your eyes go wide and you squirm beneath him, your paint covered palms reaching up under his shirt to press the cold liquid to his ribs. He flinches away, giving you enough room to scramble out from under him.

Joel grabs your arm, paint smearing on your skin as he tugs you back down. You wrestle together, paint getting everywhere as he lets you straddle his waist. His hands grip your hips, fingers pressing tightly as he stares up into your face.

“You win,” he murmurs, voice low. Your lashes flutter, hips canting over the obvious bulge in his jeans. He groans, hands urging you to do it again.

“What’s my prize?” 

Joel slips his fingers beneath the hem of your tank top, dragging the paint stained material up and over your head and tossing it aside. His gaze burns across your newly exposed skin.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He says, a hand sliding up your belly to palm one of your breasts. Your head drops back as you moan. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you reply. He chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest as his eyes grow darker, his gaze more heated. “Come on, Miller. What’s my prize?”

With a growl Joel sits up, wrapping an arm around your low back and twisting your bodies until you’re on your back, staring up at him as his lips stretch in a devious smirk. His fingers curl into the waistband of your leggings, sliding the fabric down your legs. His touch paints your skin blue as he does.

His hands press your thighs apart, opening you up. Your cheeks heat as he stares down at you like he’s trying to commit every curve of you to his memory. Finally, he leans in and you can feel his breath ghosting over your heated flesh.

Joel’s tongue traces through your slick folds, a broad stroke that has you gasping and arching your back. He hums against your sensitive flesh as he repeats the languid motion, his stubble catching on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

You reach your hands down to tangle in his hair, paint catching on the strands as you tug and pull. He groans against you, tongue moving faster as he circles your clit before pulling it between his lips. A hand leaves your thigh, the one not coated in paint, and two thick fingers press to your entrance, sliding inside of you as you gasp out Joel’s name.

“Christ,” he groans as he presses in deep before withdrawing slowly, curling his digits against your front wall, “you’re so fuckin’ wet, pretty girl. That for me?”

“Uh huh,” you reply, breathless as you work your hips to the rhythm of his fingers. Joel watches you, his lips and chin shiny from his efforts. “Joel, please!”

“Please what?” His hand moves faster, fingers pressing harder as his lips spread in a lascivious grin that makes your toes curl. “Come on, baby, ask me real nice and I’ll give you anythin’. Ain’t that right? You know damn well you’ve had me wrapped around your sassy little finger since the moment we met, don’t you?”

You whine, nodding your head quickly. “Knew you were a glutton for punishment.”

“Could say that again,” he says, chuckling as he lands a smash to the outside of your thigh with his free hand. “Now, come on, baby. Follow directions. Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna cum, Joel. Please!”

“Good girl,” he growls, lowering his lips to your pussy to lick at your clit. He hums as he lavishes the sensitive bud with attention and it’s the final push you need over the razor's edge you’d been teetering on since he started. You press your thighs against his head as your nerves light up and your muscles go tight with pleasure, his movements slowing as he works you through your release.

Your muscles go limp, head dropping back to the floor with a thunk. Joel sits up, crawling up your body and trailing kisses across your tummy and chest in the patches of skin not covered by paint. He grips your chin, holding you steady as his lips press to yours in a kiss so deep you worry you’re at risk of drowning.

Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the leather free of the loops in a frenzy. He stands quickly, freeing himself of his jeans and boxers in one motion before reaching behind his head to tug his shirt off while you admire his labor-toned body.

Joel drops to his knees, pressing his hips to yours and dragging the thick head of his cock through your sensitive pussy, bumping your clit and making you both groan in tandem. His forearms rest on the floor beside your head as he teases you like this, slow drags of his length through your wetness, the tantalizing catch of him at your aching hole. You tilt your hips slightly, hoping he gets the hint, and he chuckles.

“You know the drill, baby,” he says, breathless with his own desire. “Just say the word.”

“Fuck me, Joel, please.”

His cock slips inside of you with little resistance, the stretch of him making you gasp. His eyes remain fixed to yours as he bottoms out and you smile up at him, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Joel gives a small, experimental thrust that makes your eyes roll back with pleasure. He does it again, a sharper snap of his hips making you cry out and dig your nails into his shoulder. He builds his own rhythm, one that has your hips chasing his on every pull from your body, one that has you chanting his name and staring up at him like he’s a god and you’re simply a sacrifice on his altar. 

He sits back on his heels, the angle changing as your hips get lifted onto his lap. His hands wrap around your waist, fingertips pressing tightly to your ribs as he uses your body for his pleasure, pounding into you roughly.

“Cum for me again,” he demands, bringing a thumb to your clit in quick circles. “Come on, sweetheart, want you to cum on my cock. Was so pretty on my fingers.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the near overstimulation but you nod, wanting to give this man whatever he wants if it means he’ll keep touching you, holding you, looking at you. 

You cum again with a shout of his name and he groans, deep and visceral as he presses in deep, holding your hips to his as his cock pulses inside of you with his release.

Joel slowly lowers your hips to the ground, withdrawing from your body as he does. He flops gracelessly to the floor beside you, sweat damp chest heaving with exertion. His head turns to yours, grin wide and eyes bright.

“You’re covered in paint,” he comments, reaching out to run his hand across a streak on your collarbone.

“So are you,” you reply, mimicking the gesture against his ribs. 

“What do you say to a shower?”

You smirk at him before jumping up and racing to the doorway. 

“I’d say last one there doesn’t get the hot water!”

You can hear his curse as you rush up the stairs, making it halfway before a strong arm wraps around you and stops you in your tracks, your laughter echoing through the house.

June 27, 1993

The neighborhood has changed so vastly. Much of the older homes have been torn down and replaced with less handsome architecture. The residents grow younger while I continue to age. Just last week a handsome young man and his darling daughter moved in down the street. He looks exhausted. I remember those days.

Not all the neighbors are lovely. Harold next door has an annoying dog that barks at all hours. He prances her around like a show pony, when she’s just a yappy little creature.

-R

ONE YEAR LATER

The house is finally finished. All the tile has been laid, everything has been painted, appliances delivered, holes repaired, fixtures installed, and wallpaper glued. You go downstairs for coffee in the morning, you take it to the parlor room you’ve made into a study. Floor to ceiling bookshelves display every journal you’d unearthed from the hiding place in the attic, each one read through cover to cover. 

When you finally told your mom about what you’d been up to, her surprise and hurt could be felt even through the phone. You mailed one of her mother’s journals to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said the next time you spoke. “So much time had passed and I didn’t know how to fix what I’d broken.”

You don’t begrudge her decisions. Your grandma left you her story, and through that you’ve been able to know her.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs precede Joel’s appearance in the study, his hair messy from sleep and his eyes half shut. He drops beside you on the couch, grabbing your coffee from your hands and taking a sip of it.

“Is it everything you’ve always wanted?” You ask him, tilting your head to his shoulder. You still remember the way he’d been desperate to buy the house from you and you laugh at how the world works, given that he now wakes up in bed beside you and is tasked with the lawn maintenance every weekend. He presses a kiss to your head. 

“It’s even better.”

June 29, 1993

I don’t think the dog will be bothering the neighborhood again anytime soon.

Turns out he doesn’t hold as much pride for the dog when she’s been dyed lime green.

Imagine that.

-R

Want more Joel Miller? Check out my masterlist!

[canthelpit0]

American

Pairing: matt x poc!reader

Wordcount: 2.2K +

Summary: reader is a third culture kid. Her parents are immigrants, and she hates it. She wants to be everything she is not.

Warnings: angst, crying, hating your own culture, racism, internalized racism, middle eastern!reader, reader discerned as average, established relationship, pet names, hurt/comfort, no use of y/n, no oc; reader described to have curly hair, brown eyes and hair.

(A/N: not me reflecting lmao. asks and req are open <3 feedback is appreciated! Ps: I am Türkisch, and this isn’t meant to be racist, it’s just thoughts about myself that I used to have portrayed by y/n. This is for awareness abt internalized racism)

I hate my culture. I hate my frizzy hair, I hate the fact that my eyes are a plain brown. I hate the fact that I’m not white. I hate that when someone asks me where I’m from and I say America, they go “no where are you actually from?”. I hate my brain. I hate the way I think. I hate the way I wish I was someone else. I hate myself, and I hate the way I hate myself.

I was never considerably pretty. Well not really. Sure the facial harmony, the potential is there. But I’m just not good enough.

I wish my hair was straight.

I hate the way I hate my own culture. I really do. But I literally can’t fit into the American beauty Standards , but I can’t fit into the middle eastern ones either.

My home country is America. I was born and raised here. But both of my parents are immigrants from turkey. -Wich means we’re not very wealthy.

I hate it when people ask me where I’m from because I look ‘exotic’.

I wouldn’t consider turkey my home country. I hate it there. And I don’t know if it’s just my internalized hatred or whatever, but I do.

Even in the country itself I’m not considered Turkish enough. In the US I’m not American enough…

I’m never enough.

Not to my parents, not to my siblings, not to my boyfriend. Not to myself. I’m not good enough.

we go to turkey for vacation every year and I’m sick of it.

I speak the language enough to communicate. I hate half the food because I’m a picky eater. It hurts even more because I’m not even considered properly Turkish.

I hate the way all my cousins, except for one, live In turkey. I hate the way they’re so close to each other. And despite being in the cousins group chat, they’ll always send in pictures of them all together. Pictures that I’ll never be in, simply because I’m halfway across the world.

Years ago, whenever we visited, it didn’t matter, the fact that I live so far away, but now they were judgy.

Besides I don’t trust anything there. Sure the stuff there is cheaper, but you could literally put me in an official Nike store and I would still tell you the shoes are fake, even tho they obviously aren’t.

I did an internship at a disposition and shipping company. I know that those shoes come from the same warehouse. I just don’t trust anything Turkish.

Growing up with so many myths that my parents taught me to live by, until I realized it’s just a bunch of bullshit, made me believe that nothing purchased in turkey is of any quality.

And it’s not even to hate on the nation or anything, it’s probably my own fault.

I hate the way all the other middle easternerns are so confident in where they’re from, flexing the fact that they naturally know more languages than Americans.

But I just wish I was one of those stupid Americans. Oblivious to the rest of the world and all the flaws in human nature. I wish I was a skinny white woman born into an upper middle class American family.

But instead I have to be what I am.

I hate it when I hear people talk in my ‘native’ language. Even tho that’s the only language we speak at home.

Sometimes I feel great knowing that I have culture and just naturally great genetics, and potential and resources to be better than those stuck in a village in my ‘home’ town.

But then it dawns on me that I’m not American, even if I was born and raised here it’s not my home country. And as much as I feel like it should be and is, it’s not.

It dawns on me that I’m not white. I’m not one of them. And I never will be.

And that makes me question why Matt is even dating me.

There is so much internal self hatred and racism going on in me, yet still he chose me over those white girls.

And I don’t get it.

Every time I look at myself in the mirror I sigh. Let’s ignore the fact that I’m not white like that and will never be. Even being middle eastern, or whatever the hell turks are considered, I don’t look like that either.

I fit literally nowhere. Sure I have dark brown hair and brown eyes, I look pretty average. But I still don’t look Turkish, I don’t have that straight hair or painfully skinny body.

I let out a heavy sigh without even noticing. These thoughts were getting loud again.

I hate how strict and conservative my parents are. I hate the painful lack of empathy they show, because I always have to be perfect, when I’m oh so confused of what type of perfect.

I don’t know if they want me to be a cheerleader and prom queen and top of my class like they never could. Or if they want me to be conservative or something.

Probably the latter, but-

“What are you thinking about?” Matt’s voice suddenly snaps me out of my daze. We literally had laid down to sleep and all I could do is pity myself.

I feel a lump in my throat and only now realize how i feel like I’m going to break into sobs.

Matt must’ve heard my uneven, shaky breaths.

Matt was spooning me, his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me close to him. He rubs my sides gently, tracing shapes on my skin.

I sigh in response. I feel like I haven’t used my voice in so long. I feel like if I speak now, I’ll break into sobs.

“Baby?” He whispers softly. I feel him pull away slightly until he turns me around to face him.

“Talk to me sweetheart.”

Matt is such a kind soul. I literally didn’t tell my parents we were dating until we were already dating for 7 months, just because I was that scared. I wasn’t allowed to date or do anything intimate. As if it wasn’t normal for a teenager to want to.

“Why do you like me Matt?” I blurt out before I can think.

“First off, I don’t like you, I love you. And second where is this coming from?” He asks sweetly his eyes having a tinge of concern to them. He looks so sweet and caring.

“Why tho?” I inquire. My voice low. I know my eyes are glassy, I’m quite literally holding back tears.

Matt licks his lips and sits up. He turns the bedside table lamp on. The dim yellow light aluminates the room slightly, just enough so that I can see his prominent features even better.

“What do you mean?” He asks again now sitting up fully. He has his legs Chris-cross, looking down at me while I still lay on my side.

I sigh trying to gather my thoughts. I purse my lips lying back on my back. I stare at the ceiling for a moment.

“Why do you love me?” I purse my lips. I blink furiously trying to hold back tears.

The way he looks at me is sweet and caring. I sit up just like him. Both of us now sitting across each other, Chris-cross.

Matt and I have been together for a long while, so he knows me. But I never openly talked about it.

“I love you because you’re kind, and caring. I love you because you could talk for hours about things you are passionate about. I love your voice, I love your face, I love the way you’re so delicate with everything. I love the way you touch me. I love you because even when we were just friends you were so kind to me and everyone around. I love you because you’re you.”

By the end of his rant I was crying. Tears streaming down my face while i try to hold in gut wrenching sobs.

Matt’s eyes soften even further. He shifts again so his back is against the head-bored. He grabs me gently and sets me down on his lap facing him.

I cry. Feeling vulnerable I burry my face in the side of his neck. I try not to sob too loud, but I can’t hold it in. With my sobs my body shakes as I try to breathe through it.

“Shh you’re okay baby.” He comforts, gently rubbing circles into my back.

I let out shaky breaths and sobs as I try to calm down. I feel like I’m overreacting. Sure I feel shitty about myself, but then again I can’t do anything to change who I am, so what’s the point in crying about it.

I don’t know for how long I cry, I just know that after a while I couldn’t anymore. I cried so much I ran out of tears.

“You want to talk about it?” Matt asks softly under his breath.

I let out a shaky sigh and shift slightly. I look him in the eyes for a second before letting my head fall forward closing my eyes. I know my eyes are probably red and puffy.

“I just..” I trail off, thinking of a way to describe this to Matt.

“I hate being an immigrant’s daughter..” I say slowly trying to figure out a way to understandably say this without sounding crazy or overly sensitive.

I feel Matt’s hand ghost over my cheek caressing my face gently. He picks up my head slowly so I’m looking at him. My eyes meet his as I try not to cry anymore.

“Talk to me, honey.” He says oh so sweetly.

“I just wish I was American.” I sob. Without even realizing tears were rolling down my face again.

Matt doesn’t say anything waiting for me to continue. He wipes away my tears gently, his eyes full of concern.

“I hate myself and everything I stand for.” I breathe out under my breath as if I’m terrified by that fact. And I am. I hate that I hate myself.

“Baby..” Matt whispers softly. He looks at me like I am everything. He looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters and me saying that I hate myself tears him apart.

“I don’t have a culture. I mean I do, but I’m a third culture kid, I’m not enough for either culture.” I sob. I can physically feel my bottom lip trembling.

“Baby, I love you for you.” Matt says again softly. He wipes away my tears.

“But I hate myself Matt. I hate the fact that I exist.” I breathe out. I close my eyes tightly, because after all, I could barely see anything through my tears anyway.

Matt, being the empath he is, was on the verge of crying too.

No American ever pronounces my name right, but the actual right way just sounds wrong at this point.

I will never find my name on those keychains. And while today, I don’t care about it, back when I was younger and everyone had those, I just couldn’t find one.

“Don’t say that” Matt breaths out. He was still actively wiping away my tears while trying not to cry himself.

“You don’t get it Matt. I’m the problem.” I breathe out harshly. “I feel like I always act like such a brat about it. But my parents had dreams too.” I breathe out.

I see a tear roll down Matt’s cheek and it feels like a slap across my face. I feel my stomach drop. I hurriedly put my hands on his face wiping away the tear while crying myself. Matt’s hands go to my waist holding me.

“Don’t say that.” He breathes out. “You’re allowed to feel things.”

Another wave of sadness washes over me. But before I can break out into sobs again he pulls me into him.

Matt cradles my head into his chest hugging me tightly. I feel safe in his arms. I know Matt loves me for me, but sometimes it still felt like a cruel joke.

Like when I was asked out in middle school as a joke. But we’ve been dating for almost a year now.

“I love your hair, I love your eyes, I love your face, I love your culture, I love your humor. I love you.” Matt assures me. He rubs my scalp gently as I continues to let out small sobs that shake my body.

“I love everything about you. I love you the way you are, and you know that.” He uses his other hand to rub my back comfortingly.

I continue to cry in his arms listening to the sweet nothings and the praises Matt whispers to me.

It hurts knowing I hurt him. And I really want to believe him, and I do. But I don’t agree.

After a while of crying I calm down again.

This is a topic I’ll never be able to talk about without crying. It’s a deep rooted pain.

Being how I am, I hate it.

After a while we move back to a laying down position. “We’ll talk about this later.” Matt assures firmly yet he was still looking at me kindly.

I simply nod. Matt turns the bedside lamp off. He pulls me closer to him. He cradles my head to his chest and I hug him back. I cling to him like my life depends on it.

I know it’s not going to be easy, but it’s exhausting to hate myself this much. I wish I didn’t. I really do.

Masterlist

A/N: All of us third culture kids have probably at some point have experienced some type of internalized racism. I wrote this in a fit of sadness after realising that my dreams are just dreams. I cried so many times while writing this. I hope you guys liked it 💕

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo

[waywardcrow]

Timeless.

Summary: 1943. 1975. 2024. Three different decades, three different lives, three different times your life and Bucky's interwined; he lost you twice, will he do it again?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader.

TW: It can change each chapter but themes of Bucky as soldier and as the Winter Soldier in general, some stalker behaviour but with good intentions?, flashbacks and a not so good writing style by me, lots of feels, one awful boss, one jerk that almost gets reader in an accident, mentions of headaches, past reader is mentioned to be named Beth but that changes for 2024 version of her so I nicknamed her Ace, this will be a +18 story so minors dni, as always please remember english is not my first language so if I make a mistake or forget something let me know.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Your head was aching like never before and that was your life now; annoying pain, annoying boss who was a fucking brat with a trust fund who never heard the word “no” as a kid and that now acted like she was entitled to make your life miserable.

It wasn’t like you were and idiot who believed a job like this will be easy, as a born and raised new yorker who watched The devil wears Prada too many times you were aware of what will come your way as PA of the editor of one of the best magazines in the country but your issuess were beyond that, it was easy to handle a bully if you are getting something in exchange besides a check that barely paid your rent.

This job was suppossed to be your opportunity and Mia Alexander was beating up your expectations. With a sigh you picked the coffee and make your way back to the office, it was so stupid that you have to walk three blocks in the pouring rain just to get her stupid cold brew from the stupid pretencious coffee shop that always made you feel like you were back in high school. Always the outsider in a world ruled by assholes, just like the one who pushed you too hard while waiting to cross the street. For an idiotic reason, your first thought was that you will have to go back for another cold brew when the one in your hand hit you and then the pavement, not the bike coming your way.

It happened too fast for you to understand it, the asshole pushing you towards the traffic, your annyoance, the stranger who hold you back in the blink of an eye, the pain in your head stopping and then you were standing at a safe distance to the cars, with your umbrella tossed in the pavement and absolutely no idea of what had happened.

Alexander yelled at you for your aspect when you came back late with her first coffee all over your dull clothes and the second one not good enough apparently, the best you could do was bite your tongue and not tell her to fuck off. This job was everything you had.

“What the fuck happened to you, babe?” Harper didin’t care about Mia but that was because she couldn’t get her fired being her sister and everything, you were a different story.

“Your evil sister doing her usual shit” was your only response, Harper was completely different to Mia and if you tried to tell her about the incident she will drove you herself to ER. She followed you to the bathroom, your blouse was so stained it couldn’t be saved and still you wanted to do something to don’t cry.

Harper pursed her perfect red lips, it didn’t matter how many times she tried to help you, Mia was their mother’s favorite and will never do anything against her; the best she could do for you was to get you out of that clothes.

“Take that off, I’m bringing you something and don’t argue” Harper disappeared before you could try and came back with a pretty blouse with a V line and a small waist that will rock with your boring blue jeans.

“I can’t wear that” you refused still covered in coffee.

“Why? I have seen you wear more skimpy stuff when we go out” someone walked in the bathroom and shot you an intrigued look when she saw Harper undressing you.

“You know why” your dumb boss didn’t like that the person walking three steps behind her attracted the attention so you were expected to wear boring clothes in order to not be noticed by anyone.

“I’m telling you, one of this days I’m going to punch her in the face and I will not give a fuck if I get cut out…” your hand in her mouth stopped her to finish her sentence “back off, Ace” her nickname make you roll your eyes “you know I’m right.”

She was but your life was a constant reminder that no matter how right you were, you had no other option but to do as you were told if you wanted to pay the bills and help your parents, you stopped wishing for a way out long ago, this was your life.

Bucky went back to the tower that night after making sure you were home safe first, Sam tried to call him back but he ignored his phone and jumped in the shower, the hot water barely easing the tension in his muscles. He could have lost you that afternoon.

The super soldier still wanted to chase the idiot who nearly get you killed but Bucky wouldn’t be able to hold back if he saw him again, that’s why he asked Sam to take care of it without giving a good explanation beyond what had happened: a jerk pushed a by-stander to the traffic and didn’t give a shit about it. Bucky had to act like you were nothing to him, just another civilian he could help. He was liar, a murderer, a destroyer of lives but that lie, insignificant and not even believable, left his chest aching. You were everything; you always were from the moment he set his eyes on you that night in 1943.

Bucky expected more from his last night home before going to war, his date was nice but Connie will never think twice about him once he was gone and in all honesty, he wouldn’t do it too. Maybe it was the fact that Steve insisted in being enlisted that left him so uneasy, maybe the thought of leaving his family behind when his ma and his sisters already lose too much or maybe it was everything mixed with his fears.

Opposite to Steve, he never wanted to go to the war, it was what left them without a father, what left his mom without a husband, Bucky swore he will never abandon his family to fight and die alone in someone else’s land but his country didn’t care about his promises and his fears and demanded his blood and sacrifice anyway.

He tried to don’t let his family see this, not even Steve but Rebecca could see it, only three years of difference between them made them close to know each other well. She was there when Bucky got the letter informing him about being drafted, she held him while he cried like a little kid and swore to don’t say a word to the others, Rebecca woke up early the morning of his mandatory training to make him breakfast and give him a hug before their ma could do the same.

Bucky didn’t want to leave her in charge, she was his little sister, his responsibility but he was sure Rebeca will do it.

The way back after leaving Connie and her friend home was silent, Steve probably was back in their apartment after being rejected again, Bucky promised himself to be reasonable with his best friend later but after he spent one more night with his family.

In the porch stairs there were two girls whistling a short melody, he could see them from the distance, one was Rebecca but he didn’t knew who was the other one, her hair pinned up perfectly giving him a good view of one perfect neck and three moles aligned like a little constellation.

When he got close enough, Rebeca spotted him and she broke a smile.

“Bucky! You are here!” His sister got up, holding him in her embrace. After all those years he could swear he still remembered her scent: homemade cookies and lilacs. “You are early” she said, giving him a suspicious look.

Before she could say more, he interrupted “Who’s your friend, Becca?”

You shot him a funny glance, like you knew what he was doing and follow his sister after fixing your skirt.

“I’m Beth, nice to meet you” You and Rebecca were being friends for more of a year but you never met her brother, Rebeca tried to set you both up but he insisted in not dating anyone as young as her sister, didn’t seem right but that was before he got a chance to actually know you.

He knew a lot of beautiful girls; he probably dated a good number of them in the last years but you were more than your pretty eyes or your perfect lips, he never felt like his whole world stopped with any of them the way he felt it with you.

“Beth” Bucky repeated, his tongue tasting sweet with the echo of your name in his mouth. A charming smile made its way to his lips and you blushed under the intensity of his eyes. Everybody talked about Rebecca’s brother, such a ladies man, a respectful one but a ladies man anyways and you were raised better than to be one of those dames who let men sweep them off their feet.

“I should go back home, Becca” you said giving your friend a quick hug and a nod to her brother.

“Let Bucky walk you home Beth, is late and your mother will not be happy if she knows you went alone” oh Rebecca was good, Bucky could see the spark in her eyes, identical to his, and he could hear her future constant reminders from now on about how she told him so, she was always right about him and Beth.

“I don’t want to impose” was all the girl could say and Bucky took that as his chance.

“Please, allow me to escort you home safe, miss” he used his best smile and extended his arm like a gentleman “it will be an honor.”

For a heartbeat, he could see your intention to roll your eyes but you agreed and took his arm, Rebeca didn’t do a good job at hiding her smile saying her goodbyes before going back to the house to tell Winnifred everything.

And that was the only time he could be close to you before he lose everything he was once.

Next chapter >>>

Please let me know what you think! Thanks 🩵.

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ no sabo kid, puerto rican!zoro

thinking about puerto rican!zoro who just has an unbearable family. well, maybe not unbearable to other people, especially his mother. many people would kill for a mother like his. bus in general, his family was just a pain in his ass.

born in puerto rico but immigrating when they were just teenagers, it’s been a long time since zoro’s parents were in the states, so over time, they just lost their touch and need to embed their culture into their son. the only time his parents spoke spanish was to each other, yet, in the few times they referred to him, it was always in english.

ironically, zoro’s mother did feel the need to at least give birth to her first child back in her homeland. being born in puerto rico and living there for only two years before coming back to the states, zoro couldn’t help but resent his parents for that bold move. why not teach him his culture when he’s able to remember it? of course he can’t remember the full first two years of his life where he was surrounded by so much boricua love.

“we just don’t feel like it’s important for you to know spanish, baby,” his mother would tell him. “we came to this country to give you a better life. that includes learning english before spanish.”

yet, even though he didn’t speak it well, zoro’s first language was spanish, all learned from his first two years of life.

see why he’d always be frustrated with his parents? the older he got, the deeper his resentment with them had gotten. sure, as soon as he was old enough he ventured out and tried to learn spanish on his own. but it was hard for him. he felt like it wasn’t right; that he’ll never learn spanish and instead always be a no sabo kid.

he looked at his best friend luffy and couldn’t help but feel jealous that he knew his roots, even though luffy was mexican, with spanish being his first (and main) language.

or even his close friend usopp, who’s native language was haitian creole. sanji spoke french fluently, robin spoke russian, nami spoke german—almost all of his friends were in touch with their native language and culture except for him.

as an outlet, zoro took up fencing. it was something about the art of swords—no matter the size or sharpness of it, that just relieved him. he liked staring his target down, locking them in, and charging toward them to victory.

zoro didn’t like to lose. i guess that was something he’d inherited from his shitty father.

[silhouetteonpaper]

What Came Before

Summary: You’ve always wondered who you were before becoming a Widow. Against Yelena’s wishes, you finally decide to get some answers. Traveling back to the country you were born in, the truth finally reveals itself—and nothing could have prepared you for the past that changed your entire life. Yelena Belova x Reader WC: 3,958 Warnings: Mentions of dead people, fighting, killing A/N: I’ve been working on this one for a loooong time, I hope you enjoy! I wrote it so the reader can be from any country and speak any language. :)

Yelena’s long list of don’ts continued to drone on, the list of what you can actually do seeming shorter and shorter. “Don’t talk to any strangers, don’t stray from the route we planned, don’t go-“

“Yelena! I get it, I promise I’ll be safe. I’m going to miss my flight if you keep talking.” You pout frustratedly. It’s not unlike Yelena to be protective—if anything you were expecting it. But you won’t let it be the reason you miss the flight back to the country you were born in.

“Alright, alright. Be safe, I love you. Call me any time, okay?” She resigns, giving you a tight hug that threatens to hold you from boarding the plane on time.

“I will, I love you too,” You reassure her, pulling away to grab your suitcase. Giving her one last look, you walk toward your gate with high hopes. It took a lot of convincing for her to let you go on a public airline instead of the jet, let alone on this trip as a whole.

You’ve been wanting to go back to the country you grew up in, at least until you were kidnapped and turned into a Widow. Finally free from the shackles of the Red Room, you know it’s time to figure out more about your past; to visit your home to find out who you really are. Can you still call it home after all this time?

There’s only a hazy memory of your parents now, you’re not even sure if they’re still alive. Surely they would be looking for you… right? Yelena understands the need for answers and the desire to find out where you’re really from, she’s just overprotective at times. Especially when the adventure involves returning to the place you were taken from.

Yelena helped you create an itinerary, one that originally involved herself. After explaining to her what this trip meant to you, and setting the boundary of needing to do it alone, she relented and helped you plan the most fulfilling solo trip possible.

Now, alone on the flight, you find yourself getting lost in the thoughts of what could’ve been. If you were never a Widow, if you never left your home country. What would life be like if you never went through any of that?

The time passes fairly quickly as you’re lost in thought; the plane eventually touches down in a dreary cloudy climate. You weave through the crowds at the airport, swimming upstream as it seems many people are eager to leave this country, rather than stay.

The train station is marked clearly with a matching itinerary for departing vessels. The town towards the top of the list makes your heart skip a beat. The letters that are likely sprawled across your birth certificate, if you’d ever even had the chance to see it. Your past, present, and future could lie in the town only an hour away by train.

A simple train lies on your assigned track, sure enough empty like you expected. You settle in, placing your suitcase on the rack above before sitting on the nice leather seat next to the window. By the time the train departs, there’s only two or so other people in your car, making your nerves grow at the idea of a small secluded town.

You’re aware it’s not a largely populated town, and don’t expect many people to want to visit for vacation or anything, but the sight of the nearly empty cart makes you wonder just how small the town really is. It’s hard to remember what it was like all those years ago, leaving it all up to your imagination now.

As the metal moves swiftly along the tracks, your gaze falls outside the window while your anxiety prevents you from doing anything else to pass the time. It’s a serene ride, grasslands passing by full of trees or farms. They turn into hills, cliffs, even an oceanside, until the land goes slightly barren.

Empty fields of grass for miles, destroyed cobble buildings. You’re not far from the destination now, and the outskirts appear to be in complete shambles. You know it’s not a capital city or anything, but did something happen to make it so barren? When Dreykov swept in to take you, did he destroy everything else in his path? Was it all your fault? Okay, calm down. You tell yourself, knowing there’s probably a better explanation to it all.

The screeching sound of the train’s brakes make you flinch, pulling you back into reality. The station seems just as old and run down as everything else you saw, but you still try to swallow your nerves. Grabbing your suitcase, the car doors soon open with a cool breeze, the air hitting your face and aiding a deep breath.

As soon as you exit the empty station, your eyes widen with surprise as you see the town’s true state before you. Old stone buildings line the street, peeling paint, faded shop banners, and an eerie silence all make your heart drop. But amidst your shock at the unexpected, you find a certain charm to this place.

Sure, it’s nothing like New York or the Avenger’s compound, but it’s where you’re from. Clearly a lot of love went into building something like this, even if it hasn’t been updated in the past century. Still, the emptiness makes you question the state of what was once your home.

Following the map Yelena marked up for you, it takes little time to find your hotel. The worn red banner out front makes you smile, the warm light pouring from inside the windows extremely inviting.

You enter to see a woman at the front desk of the small lobby, her gaze immediately turning toward you. “Hello, welcome.” She speaks warmly in an accent you recognize. The same accent you used to have, before being deployed as a Widow in America at a young age.

“Hi there, I’d like to check in.” You hand her your I.D., and she quickly nods and checks her records.

“What brings you here?” She asks while grabbing a room key. It’s obvious the hotel doesn’t get much business, so her curiosity as to why you’re visiting such an empty place is expected.

“I’m from here, I came to learn about my family.” You reply happily, but your smile fades quickly when the woman’s face turns pale with fear. Something’s wrong, but she hands over the key without any comment.

“Second floor, first room on the left.” She states with wide eyes, eyeing your entirety. You nod and thank her, watching the woman quickly resume her task after stealing one last fearful glance at you. Weird. You think to yourself. Clearly, there’s something going on here, and you’re determined to get to the bottom of it.

Once you get to the cozy hotel room, you decide to call Yelena, knowing she’ll have some wisdom or support to offer. The phone doesn’t even ring twice before the blonde picks up. “Hey! How was the flight?” Her familiar voice makes you smile as you sit on the bed.

“It was good. I’m actually calling you about something that happened.” You hesitate to tell her.

“What? What’s wrong?” She questions, and you can almost see her worried expression through the phone.

“This town, it’s empty. Like… there’s only a few stores open, and practically no one on the street. And when I checked into the hotel, the woman at the front desk looked like she’d seen a ghost.” You explain.

Yelena thinks for a moment before speaking, her weariness easily showing. “I don’t like the sound of that, do you need me to get you an earlier flight home?” She offers, making you chuckle.

“No, I’m alright. I’m not worried for my safety… I don’t think. I just don’t understand why this town seems to be frozen in time.” You continue.

“Can I at least fly over there to be with you? I don’t want you getting into any trouble, I’m worried.” Yelena pleads. You shake your head to yourself, knowing she’d offer this yet preparing to decline.

“It’s okay. I promise. I’ll just do some more digging.” You communicate, finally getting Yelena to resign her protesting.

“Alright, be safe, and call me if you need anything.” She replies, the two of you saying your goodbyes. As soon as you hang up, you feel the effects of the day hitting you all at once.

You’re exhausted from traveling, and your stomach demands sustenance. After eyeing a few of the local restaurants on the way here, you decide to check one of them out. The woman isn’t at the desk when you exit the hotel.

Brushing off everything from earlier, you walk into a small restaurant with an open sign hanging in the door. An older man stands at the counter, a large selection of delicious looking food on display under the glass.

“Welcome in! What can I get for you?” He greets with a grin. You smile, taking a moment to order anything and everything that makes your mouth water. You can’t remember the last time you’ve had a meal from home, and if anything this seems like the closest thing to home-cooked.

“You will love this, it’s my favorite,” The man comments after you order, grabbing your food from the shelves with haste. “Something the town is known for too, you can’t go wrong with it.”

“It looks delicious, I can’t wait to try it!” You smile and take the plate he hands over, stacked with different kinds of food—including the man’s favorite. Noticing his grin and pride, you decide to ask something. “Why don’t you join me?”

He seems to be a bit surprised, but his grin only grows. “I would love to.”

Soon, the two of you are both enjoying a homemade dinner that makes your taste buds sing. He’s introduced himself as Alexander, and enlightened you on his passion for cooking, and how he decided on owning a restaurant. You listen with curiosity, the idea of having a true passion sounding so appealing. The only passion you’ve had has been for wiping the blood off your past, but you refrain from mentioning that.

There’s a natural pause in conversation as the two of you finish off your plates. After all the talk about his home, the urge to ask him about the town rises; you decide to entertain it. “I noticed this town is… quiet, and there’s not many people around. Why is that?”

He inhales sharply, looking out the window into the barren streets. “You haven’t heard? No one travels here, so I assumed you were a tourist looking for information on what happened,” He began, eventually looking back at you. “More than fifteen years ago, a group of soldiers came in and wreaked havoc. We were vulnerable, and they had strong reinforcements. They left with nearly every little girl, no one knew why.”

Suddenly, you can’t breathe—like something is preventing you from expelling anymore air. You know in that moment exactly why they wanted every little girl—but you let him continue, unable to form words anyways. 

“We’ve always been a forgotten little town, so no one cared to find the missing children. Eventually, we moved on the best we could and tried to rebuild what was lost. But after losing all those girls, we haven’t been able to become what we used to be. Those missing pieces of our community will forever leave us broken.” He finishes explaining with watering eyes. It’s easy to tell he truly cares about this town, or whatever’s left of it.

The anger inside you rises, yet you try your best to keep it at bay. The rush of emotion caused by the unknown suddenly fills your entire body as everything makes sense. It wasn’t just you who was taken, it was every little girl. It wasn’t your parent’s choice, it was by force. You were loved, your parents loved you. Your parents might still be alive.

Every thought overwhelms you, most importantly the idea that your parents could still be here mere miles away. You can’t sit and wait any longer. “Thank you so much. For the food, and for talking with me,” You express while standing, your feet carrying you before your brain has time to react. “I have to go.”

And just like that, you’re back out onto the street, your boots hitting the cobble as you run faster and faster. Knowing exactly where you need to go, you follow the street signs to the exact address you’ve committed to memory. As your mind swirls with the feeling of possibility, you find yourself pulling out your phone and calling the first person in your contacts.

“Hey, how’s it going? Any updates?” Yelena asks over the line.

You’re out of breath, panting as the words spill out of you. “I found out the truth! I was taken, Yelena, the people here know! Dreykov destroyed this place!” It’s hard to make sense of anything as you’re running across the cobble. There’s barely enough air to keep your lungs full, let alone to aid the spew of words.

“Slow down, what do you mean?” Yelena’s voice is laced with worry. There’s no time to tell her as you spot exactly what you’re looking for. The small white house with peeling paint. 293 Willows Lane. 

“I have to go, I’ll call you back!” You say urgently.

“No, wait-“ The panicked sound of Yelena on the other end barely reaches your ears as you hang up. The building adrenaline inside you doesn’t have time to wait for an answer. The little house in front of you is of utmost importance.

You take it in, the house that looks cold and empty; yet there’s remains of something warm that once filled it. Hesitating at the steps leading up to the door, you feel a familiar comfort. You know you’ve been here before, but it’s extremely difficult to draw memories from that long ago.

After all you went through, everything from before a certain age is just… nothingness. You forgot it all. The frustration inside you builds as you struggle to remember the house right in front of your eyes, your hand raising to knock on the front door.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” The woman with silky hair exactly like yours asks. She holds you up against the rose bushes so you can smell them, each pink flower catching your attention.

“So beautiful Mamma!” You exclaim, giggling in her arms as you take in each flower’s uniqueness. She puts you on the ground again, yet you find yourself staying by her side as she picks up a watering can.

The flowers accent the side of the house beautifully, the bright pinks adding a spark of color against the white exterior you helped paint the other week.

“Dear?” You hear your mother ask, but when you look up, she isn’t there.

“Dear? Is everything alright?” The rose bushes are gone, and suddenly a different woman is standing before you in the doorway. You shake the memory away, trying to search for the words you thought you had a moment ago.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Does anyone by the name of Y/L/N live here?” You ask tentatively. The woman’s eyes go wide, an expression you’re becoming accustomed to. She stares at you for a moment before speaking.

“Are… Are you their daughter?” She asks in disbelief. You only nod. Suddenly, the woman grabs your shoulders, taking in every inch of you. “It’s not possible! After all this time? Where are the others?” She rapidly questions, staring at you until you give her any shred of information.

Gunshots echo throughout the room, a usual training session taking place as each Widow battles it out for victory. Only the best can prevail, only the best will survive. Blood pools along the floor, but no one dares to flinch. There can only be one.

“…Dead, or missing. I’m one of the few that made it out.” You admit, watching as the woman’s face fills with horror. “I’m sorry.” You attempt to console her, but there’s no use. She’s already in tears and pulling you in for a hug. You’re still unsure who this woman is, and if she knows anything about your parents, but you don’t rush her; it seems like she needs this interaction just as much as you do.

“You’re safe now, aren’t you? Please tell me you’re safe.” She cries out. You can’t help but relax into her embrace, something about it feeling so foreign yet familiar to you. Like you’ve been missing it since you were a kid.

“I’m safe, I promise.” You breathe, the woman quieting down now with relief. She pulls away and gives you another heartfelt once-over.

“Your parents… they passed a while ago. I’m so sorry.” She finally voices, a wave of disappointment washing over you. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help either, the best I can offer is a good friend of your parents. He works at the restaurant in the square.” Her words make your heart skip a beat, the closest connection you have to your parents has already passed you by.

“No, that’s great, thank you.” You voice, hugging her quickly one last time before heading  down the front steps. “It was nice meeting you.”

“They loved you, you know.” She calls out, making you stop dead in your tracks. Those three words are all you’ve ever wanted to hear. The three words that prove you were someone to somebody before being turned into a weapon. That you were a loved before you were a Widow.

You smile at her, nodding slowly as she gives you one last look. For the first time in forever, you feel like there’s a place you can call home. No matter where you go, you’ll always be from this small town. And no one can change that.

After running back into the town square, you enter the same restaurant out of breath. The man raises his eyebrows in curiosity. “Was the food that good?” Alexander jokes, but soon sees the serious expression forming on your face as you catch up with your lungs.

“My parents, Y/L/N, you knew them?” You question. It takes no time at all for his face to drop, a sadness and simultaneous relief filling his expression.

“You’re… you’re Y/N Y/L/N?” His gaze upon you softens, like he can finally find some closure out of your presence. You nod, watching him take a deep breath. “We thought you… I thought you were-“

“Dead. I know, I nearly was. But I’m safe now.” You console him with a sad smile, the harsh reality of what these townspeople have had to deal with making your heart ache.

“I’m sorry, your parents have passed…” Alexander tells you with a heartbroken look. You don’t seem to recognize this man, but clearly he remembers you. Something about his compassion for you seems so familiar, yet it’s too far in the past to create a clear picture.

You work up the courage to ask the question at the front of your mind. “I heard, it’s alright. Can I ask you… how did they pass?” He motions for you to sit, taking another deep breath before explaining.

“After the soldiers took everyone, they clawed their way to the front of the chaos to try and find you. When they got in the way, the soldiers didn’t hesitate to continue their fire.” The words hit your chest like a cement block. They died trying to save you.

Does that still make it your fault? The feeling of possibility is suddenly replaced with guilt. You are the reason your parents died. “I… thank you.”  You manage to say.

“Of course, my dear. I happen to know where they are buried, I can give you the address if you’d like.” He offers, moving to grab a piece of paper and pen. You nod, accepting the last remaining proof that your parents existed. 

It was too late to go immediately, so after a restless night you finally decide to adventure to the graveyard. It’s a short walk, the small garden near the center of town housing a large community of gravestones. Your eyes skim each etched name as you walk past, all the lives that were lost from the same attack bringing a feeling of guilt.

You survived, they didn’t. It isn’t fair, but deep down you know dwelling on that won’t bring your parents back. That’s when your eyes find it, the two gravestones—each labeled with your parent’s names.

The stones are both grey in color, over a decades worth of moss and weathering covering every surface. The sight of your own last name is enough to make you feel overwhelmed with emotion. So many years without a trace of any family, and here they are right in front of you.

Standing before them, you finally let the tears fall. They’ve been here resting peacefully, and now you can finally be at peace too. You only hope they know you’re safe, yet there’s no way to truly be sure. It’s a relief to see them, and you imagine they’re relieved to see you too.

You imagine that maybe once long ago, they would hug you tightly just in case the day came that you’d never come back. Or the day that they would never come back. Because no one could’ve prepared for the tragedy that split this town apart.

As you’re deep in thought, the sudden crunching of leaves makes you jump. Turning around, you spot someone you’ve never been so happy to see. The blonde stands there with a sad expression, refusing to come any closer until you’ve given her unspoken permission.

“Yelena.” You begin to cry harder, nodding and allowing her to wrap her arms around you completely. You attempt to tell her something, anything, but the words don’t seem to form.

“Shh, It’s alright. I know everything. Your friend at the restaurant told me everything, and said I might find you here.” She consoles you, holding you tighter.

After a minute of letting yourself sit in Yelena’s comforting embrace, you pull back to look at her face to face. She’s smiling sadly now, moving a stray strand of hair out of your face as her green eyes find yours. “How did you get here so quickly?” You ask, now fully processing her presence here.

She chuckles. “That phone call had me worried, so I took the jet out here.” Now it’s your turn to laugh, shaking your head at the idea of Yelena flying out here at the first sign of panic. It makes you wonder to yourself, how did you get so lucky?

An average person wouldn’t consider this situation lucky, but for some reason you can’t help but feel that way in Yelena’s presence. If you can’t change the past, you feel there’s really nothing to change in the present. Nothing could beat Yelena’s support.

She notices you deep in thought, so she places a hand on the side of your cheek. “What’s on your mind?” Yelena asks softly, looking at you with the most warm and loving expression. It makes you nearly melt.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Yelena.” You state with a sad smile. She only smiles back, quickly pulling you into another hug as the two of you stand amidst your broken past, now put back together with the support of the blonde herself. You weren’t just loved before you were a Widow, you’re loved now and forever by the person who has always been at your side.