#i hope i get to laugh and create with you forever because it's always the best time in the world to me

[strangewonderful]

hi dee, as we close out another year of knowing each other, i'd like to say that this year has proven quite a lot for us. we can spend a year apart just as we can together. we will always find a way to laugh. we will always come back from our tiffs and trites. but namely, i'd like to tell you that this year has proven a lot of you and that there the capacity you have for all things you let your heart take you into is greater than the galaxies and lores you've introduced me to. you have taken off this year in the rpc so beautifully and i still recall a time you shook your head left and right and told me you couldn't do this, and you weren't a write. i hope that what you leave 2024 with is a new hat (on top of the many i have always known you to have): a writer

✨SIXTEEN CARRIAGES✨

[yslgreen]

Fucking Disappointment

Pairing: dbf!Joel x afab!reader - 10k.

SUMMARY: You’ve always disliked Joel Miller, your dad’s grumpy friend and neighbor. Growing up, he was nothing but short responses and cold glares, never bothering to hide how little he cared to even speak to you. Rude. Dismissive.

You never thought you could feel anything for him. But years later, everything feels different. And so does the way he’s looking at you.

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT MDNI, no outbreak au, no ellie, dbf!joel, age gap, mean joel,pet names, alcohol consumption. weed consumption, oral m!receiving, dirty talk, degradation

A/N : First time writing Joel Miller, but this fucking guy is stuck in my head on a loop and I had to get him out of my system. Even created a whole new blog just for him. And now that I’ve written this, I somehow have even more ideas?? No beta, because life is life. Hope you enjoy

Here on AO3

ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ.ᖭ༏ᖫ

"Waiting for you at the exit!" the text from your dad read. You checked it one last time as you made your way toward the terminal exit, eyes scanning the crowd. The rolling of your suitcase felt almost too loud in the busy airport, but you barely noticed it as you searched.

And then, a hand waved in the air—there he was. Your dad. His face lit up with that familiar, wide grin, and before you knew it, he was already moving toward you, eager and excited.

As you reached him, he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you like you were still his little girl. You sank into the embrace, feeling the warmth of his chest against yours, the steady beat of his heart familiar and comforting.

You pulled away from your dad’s embrace, smiling up at him. "You look like you’ve been waiting forever," you teased, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. Your dad chuckled, ruffling your hair like he used to when you were younger.

"I’ve been here for a while, actually," he said, his voice a little too cheerful. "Couldn’t wait to see my favorite graduate."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I’m your only graduate, Dad."

"Yeah, yeah." He laughed again, clearly proud. "Still feels like a big deal."

You smiled again, the pride bubbling up inside you. It felt surreal ; starting college years ago, it seemed like a lifetime ago. And now, here you were, finally done with it all. Sure, college had been a great experience, but nothing beat the satisfaction of being done.

Your dad reached for your large suitcase, lifting it from your hand. “I can take it, really,” you protested with a smile, appreciating the gesture.

“No, no,” he responded, waving off your offer. “The flight must’ve been tiring. Today’s about you, so let me take care of you.”

You thanked him, feeling a warmth spread through you at his caring words, and the two of you made your way outside the terminal. As soon as you stepped into the Texas air, the familiar thick heat hit you like a wall. You had almost forgotten just how intense the summer heat could be, especially after spending so much time in the cooler, more temperate climate of Chicago.

You both made your way to his car, and soon you were on the road toward your childhood home.

"I'm so happy you're here," your dad said, his smile wide and genuine as he glanced over at you.

"Come on, I was here for Christmas," you chuckled, brushing off his excitement. "It’s not like we haven’t seen each other in years."

"It felt like it for me," he replied, his voice softening a little as he focused on the road. "The house always felt so lonely without you. I’m really happy you're home."

"I'm happy too, Dad," you said, your own smile creeping up. It felt good to hear that—good to know your presence meant something more than just the occasional visit.

The conversation naturally flowed as the miles ticked by. Your dad asked about your last few days at school, how the flight had been, and whether you’d managed to catch up with any of your friends before leaving. You found yourself laughing and reminiscing, the easy familiarity between you two making it feel like no time had passed at all.

After a little while, the car slowed, and you could see the familiar neighborhood signs in the distance. The streets, lined with houses you once knew so well, felt like a snapshot of your childhood, almost frozen in time. And then, the house came into view. The old oak tree in the front yard stood tall as ever, its branches casting long, familiar shadows over the driveway.

As you opened the car door, you could see your dad grinning from ear to ear, his excitement practically radiating off of him. You shot him a questioning look, but shrugged it off, assuming he was just that happy you were home. If you’d been paying closer attention, you might have noticed the unusual number of cars parked along the street—more than you'd expected for a quiet neighborhood.

But you didn’t notice. Not yet.

When your dad handed you the key to the house and told you to go ahead and open the door, you were too caught up in the warmth of the reunion to think twice about it. You turned the key in the lock, pushing the door open slowly, expecting the quiet stillness of home.

But before you could even step inside, someone flipped on the lights.

In an instant, a chorus of voices erupted from the shadows, and people leaped out from every corner, yelling, "Surprise!" Laughter and cheers filled the air as you blinked in shock, your heart racing. There, in the middle of the living room, was a crowd of familiar faces—family, friends from home, and even some you hadn't seen in years—all smiling wide with excitement, their surprise catching you completely off guard.

You clenched your hand to your chest, letting out a startled yelp. You hadn’t expected this. The shock of the surprise hit you hard, and before you could even catch your breath, your dad patted you on the shoulder from behind.

You turned to him, eyes wide. “What the—?”

He smiled, his voice loud enough for the entire crowd to hear. “She’s home!” And the room erupted in cheers once more.

“Say hello,” he continued, his grin never fading as he gestured to your luggage and backpack. “I’m gonna take these to your room.”

You were still frozen in place, your mind racing. This wasn’t how you had imagined the evening going at all. You’d expected a quiet night—maybe convincing your dad to order some takeout and watching a stupid movie together, just the two of you. Definitely not a surprise party in your honor.

Before you could even process it, people were already crowding around you, greeting you with warm smiles and happy chatter. It took a few sentences before your brain caught up with reality, but once it did, you found your rhythm, smiling and thanking everyone as you pulled them into quick hugs. You exchanged brief words, trying to take it all in, but it was impossible to focus on everyone.

You couldn’t even guess how many people were there—maybe twenty? Most of them had already split into smaller groups, some headed toward the kitchen, others into the backyard. The whole house felt alive with laughter and conversation, buzzing with energy.

Just then, your dad returned, his arm slipping around your shoulders as he pulled you in for a brief side hug. You squeezed his shoulder, still processing the surprise. 

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice full of warmth.“Is it impolite if I go take a shower and change?” you asked, motioning to your travel outfit—a worn pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt. You felt ridiculously underdressed for a party like this, your clothes inadequate for the occasion.

He chuckled, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He kissed the top of your head, then nudged you toward the stairs. "Go on, don’t take too long."

You quickly excused yourself, sprinting toward your room. Your dad had definitely gone all out to surprise you—the room was spotless, everything neatly in place, just as you remembered. It was a comfort to see your space waiting for you, a small piece of familiarity in the chaos of the evening.

You threw your suitcase on the bed, quickly unzipping it and rummaging through the contents in search of something nice to wear. It didn't take long before you darted into the bathroom, the cool tile floor a relief after the heat of the day. You were the type who loved to take long showers, sometimes staying under the warm water until your dad had to yell from downstairs, complaining that he also needed hot water for his own shower.

Tonight, though, you needed to be quick. You didn’t want to keep everyone waiting too long, especially after they’d all come out to celebrate you. The trip had been exhausting, and while the time under the water was always soothing, you knew there was no time to indulge tonight. The warm water washed away the tension from your muscles, soothing the soreness from the weird position you'd managed to fall asleep in on the plane. You barely bothered to dry your hair, knowing the humid air outside would do the job quickly enough.

You grabbed the first sundress you had found, a simple white one that was light and breathable enough for the Texas heat. It wasn’t too fancy, but it was comfortable and easy, and right now, that was all that mattered.

You made your way back downstairs, already feeling more like yourself. The shower had worked wonders, and the light sundress helped you settle into the warm, familiar air of your childhood home.

Your dad spotted you first, his face lighting up again. He was mid-conversation with one of your aunts but paused as you approached. “There she is,” he said proudly, motioning for you to join them.

Your aunt greeted you with a warm hug, immediately launching into the usual questions—congratulations, how was school, what was next. You gave her a polite smile and nodded through the compliments, but when she asked about your future plans—a question you weren’t ready to answer—you skillfully deflected, asking her about her work, her garden, anything to shift the spotlight.

Your dad stepped in then, mercifully. “I didn’t even offer—do you want something to drink?”

“Sure,” you said, flashing a grateful smile at your aunt before following your dad toward the kitchen.

On the way there, you exchanged quick hellos and short hugs with a few familiar faces scattered through the living room. The noise of the party pulsed gently around you—music low, conversations layered, the clink of glasses in the background.

Once in the kitchen, your dad turned to you, hands already moving toward the fridge. “What’ll it be?” he asked.

“What are you offering?” you asked, leaning against the counter.

He opened the fridge. “Well, we’ve got enough beer to last us a few days,” he said with a grin. “Or, if you’re feeling bold, I could get you something stronger.” He nodded toward the assortment of bottles lined up neatly on the counter.

“A beer’s fine to start,” you replied, smiling.

Your dad handed you one, and you popped it open, ready to head back and rejoin the crowd. But just as you turned, you collided with something solid—someone, actually.

You stumbled a little, beer sloshing near the rim of the bottle, and barely had time to react before your dad’s voice cut in, cheerful and unaware of the tension that had just shifted the air.

“Joel! Wondered where you went!”

Your whole body tensed for a beat, instinctual and sharp. Of course. You took a quick step back, enough to finally look up and get a good look at the man you’d just bumped into.

Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend since the day he moved into the house next door. He stood there, looking down at you with that same gruff expression he always wore around you. Taller than you remembered. Broader, too. The kind of presence that filled the room without trying.

“Was just outside,” Joel said, his tone casual as his eyes slid right past you. “Came in for a new one,” he added, lifting his empty beer bottle like proof.

Your dad reached into the fridge and tossed him another without missing a beat. Joel caught it with practiced ease, cracking it open one-handed. Then, for the first time, he actually looked at you—and at the matching bottle in your hand.

“Since when are you old enough to drink?” he asked, the words edged with something that wasn’t quite teasing.

You met his gaze, unimpressed, and took a slow sip before replying. “It’s been a while.” Your voice was flat, arms crossing over your chest.

The man had known you your whole life and somehow still looked at you like you were a surprise—and not a pleasant one.

The air between you bristled, charged with the same tension that had always simmered there. You didn’t like him. He didn’t like you. And neither of you bothered to pretend otherwise.

Joel turned away, launching straight into a conversation with your dad as if you weren’t even there. Like this wasn’t your party. Like none of this had anything to do with you.

Typical.

He’d never really cared about you, and he’d never made an effort to hide it. The bond between him and your dad had been instant, the kind of easy friendship built on shared interests you’d never been part of. Their jobs, fixing things, football and other stuff you’d always found boring or just flat-out irritating.

With you, Joel was different. Always had been. You weren’t part of the equation, just some brat he had to tolerate in order to spend time with your dad. He’d never been subtle about it either—rolling his eyes when you asked questions, sighing when you pushed his buttons, offering only the bare minimum in response when forced to talk to you.

You used to think he hated kids. But no—he just didn’t like you.

Which was fine, because you didn’t like him either. You tolerated him, because your dad liked him, but as you got older, you stopped pretending to be polite. If Joel couldn’t be bothered to try, then why should you? You rolled your eyes when he spoke, talked back when he got snippy. Your dad had always tried to get you to see the good in him, but you never did. And honestly, it didn’t really matter. Joel was just… there. Always hanging around whenever you came home, like part of the furniture : annoying, unavoidable, and easy to ignore.

You left them to their conversation, not bothering to hide your disinterest, and stepped outside to find people who actually enjoyed your presence. The scent of barbecue drifted through the air, warm and familiar, and your stomach growled as you grabbed a plate from the folding table piled with food.

Before long, you found yourself seated at a picnic table with a mix of childhood friends and cousins you hadn’t seen in ages. The conversation flowed easily, catching up, teasing each other, slipping back into old rhythms like no time had passed at all.

People came and went as the night wore on, stopping to hug you, offer congratulations, ask about school. You recognized a few of your dad’s work friends lingering on the patio, most of them clustered in the same spot—around your dad and, of course, Joel. 

The conversations kept going, and so did the beers. You were genuinely grateful to whoever had stocked the fridge like they were prepping for the apocalypse, because no one was going easy on them, least of all you and your friends.

As the night wore on, people started saying their goodbyes. A few last hugs, warm smiles, and congratulations passed between you and the guests as they filtered out. You thanked them all, the praise and attention making your cheeks ache from smiling.

Eventually, only a handful of people remained—six or seven at most. You and your friends made up one little cluster, your dad and his made up the other. Joel, of course, was still right there with your father, like he’d just been absorbed into the foundation of the house itself.

When your last friend finally stood to leave, mumbling something about an early shift, you pouted dramatically. “You’re really gonna leave me here with them?” you whispered, tilting your head toward the older crowd.

She snorted, pulling you into one last hug. “You’ll survive. But in case it gets too hard…” She slipped something into your palm with a grin.

You looked down to see a neatly rolled joint nestled in your hand.

“Figured you haven’t had time to stock up yet. Consider it a graduation gift,” she said with a wink.

You stifled a laugh, hiding it quickly in your fist like a teenager. “You’re the best,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Don’t I know it,” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared into the night.

You watched her disappear down the driveway, then turned back toward the house, heading toward the patio where your dad and his friends were still gathered, half-lit by the string lights draped above.

“Goin’ to bed already?” your dad asked as you passed by, the buzz in his voice saying he hoped you’d stick around a little longer.

You smiled, still carefully cradling the joint in your closed hand. “Nope. Just takin’ a lap. Think I might’ve had one too many.”

Frank leaned back in his chair with a chuckle. “Can’t hold your beer, huh? Like daughter, like father.”

You shot him a grin, backing away into the house. “Give me five minutes and I’ll prove I can outdrink him.”

That got a round of laughter, your dad laughing loudest of all while his friends chimed in with mock protests and teasing.

You were a smoker—on and off. Mostly when you were stressed, or buzzed just enough not to care, like tonight. Your dad wasn’t—never had been—and you didn’t exactly feel like getting a lecture tonight. You just wanted a little more fun, to stretch the evening a bit longer.

So you slipped into the kitchen, quietly opening one cupboard, then another. You were hoping, maybe, some old forgotten lighter had been tossed in a drawer. A leftover from a guest. Anything. But no luck so far.

You didn’t hear the back door creak open. Didn’t notice the presence behind you until a low voice cut through the quiet.

“What are you doin’?”

You startled, spinning around. Joel stood a few steps inside, the kitchen light casting a warm line across his face. You must’ve looked caught—like a teenager up to something—because his brow lifted in that way of his. That silent judgment.

Normally, he wouldn’t have cared. Would’ve walked right past you without so much as a glance. But not tonight.

He moved to the fridge, opened it like he’d done it a thousand times—which, to be fair, he had—and grabbed a beer. ““What’re you diggin’ through drawers for like that?”’

“Nothing,” you said, crossing your arms like a shield.

He cracked the cap off with one hand, took a long pull, then looked you over again. “Nothin’, huh.”

His voice was skeptical, casual in that way that always grated on your nerves. He didn’t believe you. That much was obvious in the way he leaned back against the counter and just... looked. Waiting.

The stare stretched long between you, hot and heavy like the Texas summer outside.

You didn’t look away. Just stood there, jaw tight, staring back. The message was clear in your eyes:

Why the hell are you still here?

You didn’t want to be the first to break, to move, to let him think he’d gotten under your skin. But at some point, your patience thinned, you just wanted to smoke and unwind. So you walked past him, your every step saying I’m done with this.

You didn’t bother hiding the way your shoulder brushed his slightly on the way out. Didn’t mask the glare you shot up at him as he looked down at you, still leaning there like he owned the place.

You didn’t speak. Didn’t offer a word. Just walked out of the kitchen, your footsteps solid on the hardwood as you made your way to the stairs.

You didn’t look back—but you could feel his eyes on you, lingering, sharp as ever, watching you disappear.

Once in your room, jaw tight and heart still a little too fast, you dropped to your knees by your bag. You were annoyed—annoyed at him, at the whole damn moment—and all you wanted was the comfort of a quiet high. You unzipped the front pocket, fingers digging past receipts and pens, and there it was.

The lighter.

Right where you needed it.

You walked down the stairs slowly, careful with each step, not wanting to draw any attention—especially not from Joel. If he was still brooding in that damn kitchen, you had no interest in crossing paths again.

A quick glance confirmed the coast was clear. No voices. No movement. You slipped through the front door without a sound.

Outside, the night wrapped around you in a warm hush. The air was thick with leftover summer heat, cicadas buzzing low in the distance. You made your way to the old oak tree, the one that had watched over you since childhood, and slid down with your back against its trunk.

The joint was still in your hand, slightly bent from your grip. You brought it to your lips and flicked the lighter you’d grabbed from your bag upstairs.

Nothing.

You tried again. Pressed harder.

Still nothing.

“Fucking really,” you muttered under your breath, jaw clenching as you stared down at the useless plastic.

You shook the lighter, flicked it again, and like a gift from someone above, a blessed spark appeared long enough for you to light your joint. You inhaled, slow and satisfied, the burn calming, the quiet of the night wrapping around you like a weighted blanket.

Then, a voice cut through it.

“You serious right now?”

Your eyes flew open mid-exhale. Joel.

He stood at the edge of the porch, arms crossed over his chest, face shadowed—but the tone was all too clear. Disapproval, plain as day.

You coughed lightly, caught off guard, waving a hand like you could erase the smoke between you. “Jesus, do you ever make a sound when you walk?”

“Didn’t think I needed to,” he said, stepping off the porch, boots crunching against the grass as he came closer. “Didn’t figure I’d catch you hidin’ out here like a damn teenager.”

“Not a teenager anymore,” you shot back, trying to steady yourself, annoyed by the interruption.

“You sure? Then why are you smoking here, hiding from your daddy?” he asked, his tone low, judgment lacing the words.

“Can’t I just want a moment to myself?” you retorted, holding his gaze steady as you took another hit.

Joel didn’t answer right away. Just stood there, arms crossed, eyes flicking down to the joint between your fingers. The judgment was all over his face. If a cigarette would've earned you a lecture from your dad, this? This would light a fuse.

But you didn’t hide it. You didn’t even flinch. Hiding it would’ve meant guilt. It would’ve meant Joel won.

And you weren’t giving him that.

He huffed through his nose, like he couldn’t believe you had the nerve, but wasn’t surprised either. “Y’know he’s gonna smell it the second he steps outside,” he muttered.

“Then maybe he shouldn’t step outside,” you said calmly, shrugging as you brought the joint back to your lips.

“You never admit when you’re in the wrong, do you?” he snapped back, his tone clipped. Joel didn’t like getting talked back to—especially not by you.

You stood up, brushing grass from your dress, chin lifting as you squared up to him.

“Oh my god, Joel. It’s one joint. I’m not twelve anymore,” you said, voice rising with each word. “I drink. I smoke. I do a lot of things.”

That made him pause. His eyes locked on yours, and for a second, it looked like he might ask what exactly those "things" were. You saw it, the curiosity, judgment, maybe even a flicker of something else but he bit it back, jaw clenched.

“Let’s not pretend you’re some saint who’s never touched a joint in your life. Or worse,” you added, eyes narrowing. “We both know that’s not true.”

He took a step closer, slow and sure like he always moved, and before you could react—before you could even take another inhale—his hand reached out. Quick. Firm. He plucked the joint from between your fingers like it was his.

“What the hell—” you started, already ready to snap, but the words caught in your throat when instead of lecturing you, instead of crushing it under his boot like you half-expected, he brought it to his own mouth.

Joel inhaled. Long, steady. The ember flared, lighting up the edges of his face—the hard line of his jaw, the crease in his brow, the scar on his temple..

He stood there, smoke curling from his lips, his eyes half-lidded as he brought a hand up to run through his hair like the weight of the night had finally sunk into his bones. There was more gray than you remembered. At his temples. Scattered through the strands like dust on old wood. He looked… older. In a good way.

You blinked hard. You didn’t want to notice things like that, not about Joel.

“Never seen you smoke before,” you said, trying to cut through the strange haze between you.

“That’s ‘cause I know how not to get caught,” he muttered, taking another pull. Calm. Unbothered.

You scoffed. “Oh, so you’re hiding too? What, scared my daddy’s gonna ground you?”

That pulled the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. Not a smile, exactly, but close enough to spark something sharp in your chest.

“You’re gettin’ old, you know that?” you said, letting it land like a tease, but there was an edge to it.

He tilted his head, gaze pinning you in place. “Am I now?” he said, voice low, thick with that familiar southern drawl—like honey and gravel. He stepped in just enough that you caught the scent of smoke and the heat from his skin. “Funny, comin’ from the girl sneakin’ off like she’s still seventeen.”

You rolled your eyes. You were starting to think this might be the longest conversation you’d ever had with him.

You reached out, palm up. “You gonna give it back?”

Joel didn’t answer. Not with words.

Instead, he stepped forward—close. Too close. The air shifted instantly, thick with something that wasn’t just smoke or summer heat. His hand lifted, steady, unhurried. And without asking, without a word, he pressed the joint back between your lips.

Your breath hitched. Not just from the inhale—but from him.

His fingers brushed your lower lip, slow and deliberate. Not an accident. Not rushed. Just enough to leave heat in their wake.

You stared up at him, lips parted slightly around the joint. Your heart beat too loud in your chest, but your body stayed still.

He didn’t look away.

Didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

His gaze locked on yours, heavy and unreadable, like he was waiting. Like he was daring you to break the silence first.

But for once, you didn’t.

You took a slow drag. Held it. Exhaled—right between the two of you.

And still, neither of you moved. Joel held your gaze for one long second more.

Then, like a switch flipped, he stepped back, just a half-step, but it felt like miles. The heat between you cooled instantly, and when he spoke again, his voice had that old, familiar edge.

“Well,” Joel said, his eyes flicking over you with that familiar, judgmental gaze, “didn’t even last a day before you were back to your old tricks.”

The words landed sharp, biting in that casual, offhand way only he could manage. Like everything you did was somehow a little wrong, a little too much..

And just like that, there he was—that Joel. The one who couldn’t help but offer a comment about everything. The one who never missed a chance to nitpick, to point out what you were doing wrong.

You scoffed, jaw tight. “There he is,” you muttered, dragging on the joint, blowing out a thick plume of smoke. “Was wonderin’ how long it’d take for the real Joel to show up.”

He raised an eyebrow, his voice low and sharp. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You took another hit, your thoughts swirling for a moment. You could just let him go, ignore him like you had countless times before. But no, he had to make that damn snarky comment, didn’t he?

You turned to him, the frustration boiling over, and before you could stop yourself, the words came sharp. You stepped in, jabbing a finger into his chest—hard, deliberate. “Always so fucking rude to me. What the hell did I ever do to you?” 

He stiffened at your words, clearly not expecting the bite behind them. You poked him again, harder this time. “You never said anything nice to me, never even looked at me like I was a person. Just a damn inconvenience in the way of your ‘good time’ with my dad. So tell me, what did I do to deserve that, huh?”

Joel’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist before your finger could make contact again. His grip was tight, not painful, but enough to stop you in your tracks. His eyes—those goddamn eyes—narrowed as he looked down at you, frustration boiling behind them.

“Come on,” he said, voice low and cutting. “You really wanted me to coddle you? Like your dad does—pretending you don’t make everything harder than it has to be?” He laughed once, bitter and short. “You’ve been a storm since the day I met you. You’ve been acting out your whole damn life, never grateful, always pushing. What, you think that deserves kindness?”

He stepped in closer, the distance between you shrinking, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m not your dad, sweetheart. I don’t have to pretend to care. And I sure as hell didn’t have to put up with you when you couldn’t even take care of yourself. You think I wanted to deal with you?” He gave you a smirk, as if the very thought was laughable.

The bitterness in his voice cut through you like a knife, the words searing with years of unspoken resentment. Maybe you had been a pain in the ass as a kid, always causing trouble, always pushing boundaries. But you were a kid. Yes, your dad worked himself to the bone to provide for you, and you were left trying to figure it out on your own. 

You looked up at him, jaw clenched, trying to hold on to the anger that was threatening to slip away.

“You think I asked for any of this?” you snapped back, your voice dripping with contempt. “I didn’t ask for you to come around, either. You think I wanted to be stuck between you and my dad, always the damn inconvenience? Maybe I was just trying to figure out my own damn life. Maybe I didn’t need someone like you breathing down my neck every time I fucked up.”

His eyes flashed at that, but he didn’t move. Didn’t back away.

"Was I just a disappointment to you, then? Is that it?" you spat out, the question lingering in the cold air between you two.

“No,” Joel replied, his voice hard but low, like he was forcing the words through clenched teeth. “You never disappointed me, kid. You were always exactly who I expected you to be.”

It hit you harder than it should have. Those words stung, but you didn’t let it show. You fought to keep your composure, to hold onto that anger that had been building in your chest. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much it hurt.

You yanked your wrist from his grip, the heat of his touch still burning into your skin. “Fuck you, Joel,” you muttered, the words biting as they left your lips. You didn’t give him a second glance as you turned and walked toward the front porch, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back.

The joint had stopped burning, but you didn’t care anymore as you trew it away. You needed a moment to breathe. You went straight to the bathroom, splashing some cold water on your face to shake off the heat of the argument. You stared at yourself in the mirror, frustration building inside you. Fuck him, you thought. Fuck him.

You spritzed some perfume, just in case the lingering scent gave you away, and then walked back down the stairs, your steps purposeful and steady. In the kitchen, you opened the fridge, but it was the bottles on the counter that called to you. You didn’t bother with the beer. Instead, you grabbed whatever whiskey was within reach, pouring yourself a drink and letting the burn settle in your chest.

You walked back toward the backyard, taking slow steps as you made your way to the patio. Your dad was deep in conversation with Frank and Bill, laughing lightly at something one of them had said. When he saw you, his face lit up with a smile.

“I thought you wouldn’t come back,” he said, his voice warm.

“I said I would,” you replied, offering him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You didn’t feel like explaining much right now.

You found a chair around the table, making sure to settle yourself just far enough from your dad. You didn’t want him to notice anything—the lingering scent or the storm still brewing in your mind. There was no need for him to ask, and no need to bring it up.

Joel wasn’t around the table, and part of you felt a little relief. Maybe he was already on his way home, back to wherever he belonged. But, as if summoned by your thoughts, there he was—appearing from the same way you had come.

"Thought you forgot where the bathroom was," your father teased as Joel slid into the empty chair across from you.

"Not that drunk," Joel muttered, a little too casually, his eyes flicking over to you like he was trying to catch your gaze. But you didn't bite. Instead, you focused on Bill next to you, making small talk, pretending not to notice the tension building in the air.

Your father’s attention shifted to your drink. "Didn't expect you to be a whiskey girl," he remarked with a smile, eyebrows raised.

You shrugged, taking another sip. "It's nice," you replied, your voice nonchalant, though the warmth of the alcohol barely did anything to calm you.

Your father patted you on the shoulder. "Well, finally, something you’ve got in common with Joel, huh? He’s the one who brought it, you know." He looked over at Joel, pride edging his voice. "You should see his collection," he continued, clearly pleased with the fact that you two could now bond over something.

You kept your eyes on your glass, trying to avoid the sharp edge of Joel’s stare, but it didn't escape you—the way your father was so eager to find common ground, any excuse to connect you with Joel. You gave your dad a small, practised smile enough to ease his attention off you. But your eyes caught Joel’s across the table.

He was staring.

Not in the careless, absent way people sometimes do when lost in thought. Joel was watching you, steady, unreadable, like he hadn’t stopped since he sat down. Like the words you’d thrown at him earlier were still echoing somewhere behind his eyes.

You tilted your head just slightly, a silent question or maybe a challenge, and took a slow sip of your drink—intentional, deliberate. His gaze didn’t flinch.

If anything, it sharpened.

Frank leaned forward slightly, swirling the wine in his glass. “So,” he said, glancing at you with a friendly grin, “Happy to be finished with school ?”

You nodded, taking a sip. “Yeah, finally..”

“Damn, time flies,” Bill said, impressed. “Feels like we were just talkin’ about you leavin’. What’d you end up majoring in?”

“Communications,” you said, voice light. “Which is code for ‘I still don’t know what I’m doing with my life.’”

That got a laugh from Frank. “Well, join the club. Took me years to figure out what I wanted, and even then, I changed my mind half a dozen times.”

Your dad beamed quietly, pride flickering behind his eyes. “She’s smart,” he said. “Always has been. Stubborn as hell, but smart.”

You gave him a small smile, choosing not to argue.

“So what about work?” Bill asked. “You stayin’ around here, or just visiting?”

You hesitated for a moment. “I don’t know yet. Thought I’d come back, take a breath before jumping into anything serious.”

There was a pause, and then Frank grinned. “And anyone special back at school—or here—giving you a reason to stay?”

You raised your eyebrows and laughed under your breath, deflecting with a sip of your drink. “Jesus, Frank.”

He held up his hands, grinning. “What? Can’t ask a question?”

Your dad chimed in, playing along. “Hey, pretend I’m not here if it helps.”

You laughed, relaxed. You didn’t mind your dad. The two of you had gotten close, especially in those past years, separated by college. If there had been anyone serious, he’d probably already know.

“No one worth mentioning,” you said after a moment, flicking your eyes back to Frank. “Just me for now.”

Frank gave you a look, all charm and teasing. “I don’t buy that for a second. Pretty thing like you? I bet you left a trail of broken hearts in Chicago.”

You let out a soft laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Eh,” you said lightly, the smile not quite reaching your eyes, “disappointment’s kind of my thing, apparently,” you said, smiling just enough to pass it off as a joke.

Your dad chuckled, clearly not reading the undercurrent. “You? Please. You’re doing just fine.”

But Joel—he wasn’t laughing. He stopped mid-sip, his eyes fixed on you over the rim of his glass. His gaze was sharp, piercing, the silent understanding hanging between you like a weight.

You didn’t acknowledge him. You didn’t have to. You knew he heard it.

You kept the conversation going with Frank, though his words were starting to blur as the alcohol made him a bit more loose-lipped than usual. Bill, ever the more sober one, finally pointed out that it was time for them to head out. Frank, clearly one glass of wine too many, was a little wobbly on his feet, but that didn’t stop him from giving you his signature ruffle on the head. You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips.

“You’re gonna find someone who sees you for who you are, kid,” Frank slurred, his voice filled with an odd mix of affection and drunken sincerity. “You’re too smart, too pretty, not to," Frank said, his voice a little louder than necessary as he nudged you with a playful grin. “Ain’t she, Joel?”

Joel, who had been deep in conversation with your dad, looked up, clearly caught off guard by Frank’s question. "What?"

“She’s pretty, don’t you think?”

You raised an eyebrow, already anticipating the awkwardness that would follow. Frank was a little tipsy, but you knew he didn’t mean any harm. It was just Frank being Frank.

You half-expected Joel to brush it off, mutter something gruff, or look away entirely—anything to avoid the attention. But instead, he met your gaze briefly, his eyes looking you up just for a second, before shifting back to Frank.

“Very pretty,” Joel said quietly, the words not quite as reluctant this time. It was almost as if he couldn’t help it, like Frank’s teasing had pulled it out of him.

“See?” Frank said, giving Joel a playful shove, not realising the undercurrent of tension in the air. “Even Joel says so!”

Joel’s shoulders stiffened slightly, but he didn’t say anything more.

Frank and Bill left, their goodbyes echoing softly as they promised to invite you and your dad for dinner soon. You stayed outside as your dad continued his conversation with Joel about the upcoming game and who was going to host it. The voices of the two men blended into background noise, the hum of the conversation barely registering in your mind. You were half-listening, half-distracted, your thoughts lingering on the anger you’d been holding onto all night.

The burn of the whisky slid down your throat, and without even realizing it, your eyes found Joel. You were still mad at him, the words he’d spoken earlier lodged under your skin. It stung in a way that made it harder to push away. Normally, you would’ve brushed it off, moved on, but tonight, his words had managed to hit deeper than usual. And for some reason, it bothered you more than you were willing to admit.

At first, you looked at him with nothing but irritation, your gaze sharp, unforgiving. The way he leaned back in his chair, so at ease after everything he’d said—it grated on you. But then, without meaning to, your eyes lingered. You noticed how the porch light caught the strands of gray in his hair, more than you remembered. The lines around his eyes were deeper now, the rough stubble along his jaw peppered with silver. And yet, somehow, it suited him. He looked… good. Annoyingly so. That solid kind of good that didn’t come from trying. The kind that made some of your dad’s female friends earlier laugh too loud at his jokes and linger a little too long near wherever he stood. 

He shouldn’t have looked good. Not after the shit he said. Not after the way he always made you feel small and in the way.

And then, as if he could feel the weight of your gaze, his eyes found yours.

You hesitated for a second, but didn’t look away. You couldn’t. Not this time. You weren’t going to let him think he had any power over you. Not now. Not ever again.

He held your gaze, serious now, almost as if he was silently asking you what the hell you were looking at. It was like a challenge, an invitation for you to either break or keep going. But you didn’t flinch, didn’t break the connection.

Your dad, oblivious as ever, continued tidying up the table, clearing away the bottles, while he kept talking to Joel. But you didn’t shift your focus. And so, knowing damn well he was watching, a strange boldness crept in, aided by the drinks you’d had. You let your eyes trace him—across his chest, his hands, then slowly, almost instinctively, to his lips.

You took a slow sip of your drink, letting the tension hang in the air, lingering just enough on his lips for him to feel the weight of it. Then, you lifted your gaze back up to his. You saw the way his brows furrowed for a second, his eyes narrowing as if trying to make sense of what you were doing.

In that instant, your dad clapped his hands, breaking the tense silence between you and Joel. Both of you snapped your gaze away, turning towards him.

"I'm busted," he said with a grin, clearly oblivious to the quiet storm that had just passed between the two of you. "I think it's time for me to go to bed. What about you two?"

You raised your drink to him, trying to mask the lingering heat in your chest. "Gonna finish this first, then I'll crash too," you said, voice calm, though your mind was anything but.

Your dad chuckled, giving you a playful look. “Whiskey, huh? Careful, it goes under your skin quickly.” He glanced at Joel, raising an eyebrow. “What about you?”

“I’ll finish my drink too and go,” Joel replied, his voice steady.

Your dad nodded, then walked over to you, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. “So glad you’re here,” he said warmly. You squeezed his hand, smiling up at him, before waving as he turned to head back inside. As he passed Joel, he gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

And just like that, the two of you were alone again. Your eyes drifted to the door your dad had disappeared through… then back to Joel—only to find him already watching you.

“It’s rude to stare,” he said casually, but that familiar edge was there—like he was already halfway into a fight.

You scoffed, lifting your glass. “Funny, coming from you.”

Joel raised a brow, slow and deliberate. “What’re you tryin’ to say?”

You didn’t flinch. “That you’ve been staring at me all night. Like you’re tryin’ to set me on fire.”

He took a long sip, unfazed. “And why the hell would I wanna do that?”

You shrugged. “You’re the one who keeps acting like I’m a pain in your ass.”

Joel gave a low, humorless laugh. “Darlin’, you are. Don’t mean I gotta kill you for it.”

You leaned back, a smirk tugging at your lips despite yourself, the word darlin’ echoing like heat under your skin. “How kind of you..  So what do I owe this stare? Full of love and all,” you added, letting the word drag with thick sarcasm.

Joel scoffed, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. “Love ain’t exactly the word I’d use.”

“Mm,” you hummed, tilting your head. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He lifted his glass, took another long sip, then set it down with a soft clink—clear as day he was ending the conversation. Funny how he’d been the one to start this fight, but didn’t want to finish it. You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out; pushing his buttons was too tempting to resist.

“Am I really that pretty?” you pressed, leaning forward, voice low. “Is that it? Enough to make you unable to look away?”

You saw the way his jaw twitched before he met your gaze again, his eyes darker than before. In the past, that little tell would’ve tipped you off and you’d have backed down, let him off the hook. But tonight, you didn’t care. If he couldn’t find the decency to be kind, why should you?

“Not gonna answer?” you teased, your voice soft but edged. You lifted the glass in a salute, then drained the last drop.

“Careful.” His voice was low, dangerous and it made your stomach tighten.

“Or what, Miller?” you shot back, setting your empty glass on the table. “Gonna ground me? You’re not my dad, remember.”

With those words, you stood, smoothing the hem of your dress. For a heartbeat, you saw his gaze drop to your bare leg—just a glance—before snapping back up to yours. 

“Always gotta be smart, don’t ya?” he called after you, voice rough as you stepped toward the door.

You stopped mid-step, one hand on the doorframe, and turned back. The patio light caught your face just right. Arms crossed, you gave him a small, mocking smile. “Oh, so I’m smart now?” you snapped, tone brittle with sarcasm. “Pretty and smart—what’s gotten into you, Joel? Running out of insults?”

Joel didn’t miss a beat. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes hard. “Don’t push your luck,” he said, his voice low and dry. “I said you were smart, not that you stopped bein’ a brat.”

“Oh, right,” you scoffed. “Because you’re the king of saying exactly what you mean. Never cryptic, never cruel, never hiding behind that goddamn scowl.”

He stood then—slow, deliberate—his glass forgotten on the table behind him. His height always had a way of pressing down on a room, and now, with only the patio light casting long shadows between you, he felt even closer than he was.

“You done?” he asked, low and tight.

“No,” you snapped, taking a step toward him without even thinking. Your heart thudded hard in your chest, but you didn’t let it show. “You’ve been staring at me all night like I’m something stuck to your damn boot, but God forbid I look back. You start shit, and then when I give it back, suddenly I’m the one who’s too much?”

Joel didn’t flinch, didn’t move at first—but you saw it in his jaw, the way it clenched, the way his fingers flexed at his sides like he was holding something in.

He stepped toward you, and the space between you narrowed into something heavy—your skin prickling with heat, not entirely from anger. His voice dropped, rough and controlled, but far from calm.

“Does that mouth ever do somethin’ other than complain?”

The words hit like a slap, and a dare. The way he said it, slow, his voice coiled tight with something darker, something heavier, made your pulse jump.

Your breath caught, not from fear, but from the sudden pulse of heat that curled low in your stomach. Maybe it was the whiskey still humming through your veins, the warmth of it making you bold, reckless. Sober, you never would’ve said what came next.

You looked up at him, stepping in just enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body, the space between you now little more than a breath; eyes fixed on his, daring. “Why?” you said, voice low and steady. “You want my mouth to do something else?”

Joel didn’t hesitate. His fingers came up, rough and warm, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, firm, not gentle. He tilted your face up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“You wanna play like that, kid?” he muttered, the word kid sounding more like a warning than an insult. “Keep talkin’ like you know what you’re askin' for.”

The word echoed in your head—not just what he said, but how he said it. Low, rough, like gravel under pressure. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just stared, like he was waiting to see if you’d flinch first. Your heart kicked harder against your ribs. You should’ve backed off. Maybe any other night, you would’ve. But the way he was looking at you — like you were the last line he hadn’t crossed — made your mouth move before your brain could stop it.

“Not scared of you,” you said, but the words came out softer than you meant them to.

He leaned in closer, just a breath away, the porch light casting deep shadows over his face. “You should be,” he paused, his eyes dark. ”Get on your knees.” 

Your breath hitched at his words, the patio suddenly too quiet. For a second, you weren’t sure you’d heard him right. The heat that rushed between your legs, however, confirmed that you had.

“What?” you asked, your voice a little breathless.

Joel didn’t blink. His gaze stayed locked on yours, unmoving, unreadable. “You heard me, girl,” he said, voice rough, low. 

You should have backed off. You knew that. It was Joel, for crying out loud. The one you couldn’t stand. He was your dad’s best friend, your least favourite person in the world. The guy who made you feel small with every sharp word, every lingering glance.

And yet, you sank to your knees. The hand that cupped your chin went to the top of your head, guiding your descent. Joel’s breath became more rugged as you did, never leaving your eyes. 

Your knees fell on the cold patio floor, but you didn't care. Joel's gaze was intense, unreadable, yet unmistakably focused on you. His eyes locked onto yours, steady and unwavering, as if he was trying to see right through you. You feel the weight of it pressing in on you, challenging you to see how far you were willing to go.

You didn't want to back down. You looked in front of you, his crotch right there. Your hands quickly moved to unbutton his dark jeans, making them fall to the ground. He was already hard, the fabric straining against his thickness, precum staining the front of his boxer, leaving a print that made your mouth salivate a little more than it should.

Joel was big, of course he was. Broad shoulders, large hands, big cock. It made sense. You would be lying if you said you’d never thought about it. After all, Joel Miller was the better-looking of your dad’s friends. He just happened to be the most annoying. 

You brought your mouth closer, letting Joel feel your hot breath on his cock. His hand was still in your hair, a little tug inviting you closer, wordless but clear. Your hand rested on the waistband of his boxer, not taking it off just yet. You could see a bit of his happy trail, his dark hairs inviting you to explore more of his body. You pressed your lips into a small kiss where you could see the print of his tip, earning you a low, guttural groan from Joel. The sound was exquisite, and you already wanted to hear it again. So you pressed a few more kisses, relishing in the small noises he was making. You couldn’t wait to take him in your mouth. 

Finally, you took down his boxer, and his throbbing cock stood in front of you. Large, thick. perfect. You swallowed a gasp, realising you’ve never taken one so big in your mouth — or anywhere else for that matter. It only made it more enticing. You looked up to Joel, who had his eyes on you. Waiting, hungry, and he looked way too good in that instant. It made you feel things you didn’t want to think about Joel. Made you want to take a hand between your thighs and deal with the heat that had been pulsing all evening. But later. Now you only wanted to focus on him.

One hand on his thigh, the other finding the base of his length, you looked at him one more time before opening your mouth. Slowly, teasingly, you licked his tip, tasting the glistening precum off him. Salty. Musky. Joel. Then, you pressed your lips around his length, the warmth of your mouth making the man grunt. Knowing you were the one making him moan like this was exhilarating. Powerful even. The need to hear this sound again pushed you to take more of him, inch by inch. You started a steady rhyme, your mouth so full —  and you hadn't taken all of him yet. 

Joel let out a guttural moan, his hand pushing you further down his length as he thrusted his hips up slightly into your warm, wet mouth. You dared look up to him and saw how his head tilted backwards, the hand that wasn't in your hair on the table behind him, keeping him steady. Fuck, he looked so good and you were the one doing that to him. You clenched your thighs together, feeling a wetness you couldn't take care of right now. 

“Fuck, darling…” he groaned, his calloused fingers tightening their grip on your head when you took him a bit deeper, hitting the bak of your throat. The pet name made you moan around his cock without you even realising, the sound vibrating around his cock. 

At that, Joel looked down at you, a slow, smug smile spreading across his face. Your nose pressed agasint the base of his cock, your throat bulging obscenely with his girth.

“You like it, don’t you? Choking on my dick like that ?” He asks, his voice rough, almost breathless. His eyes darkened with something primal, something hungry, and it sent a shiver down your spine so sharp it left your skin buzzing. You nodded on his cock without even realizing. “Of course you fucking do, you mouthy little thing.”

He started to thrust harder, faster, driven by the thrill of having you here, worshipping his cock like it was your sole purpose. You had sucked dick before, sure. It was something you enjoyed, making your partner come undone with only your mouth. College had been the right place to experience it, but you never had your throat fucked like that. And you liked it more than you thought was possible.

“You take me so good, baby, “ Joel praises you, his voice heavy, taking in the sight of you, the way you are so eager on his cock, and the feeling shouldn't feel so good. You looked up at him, your eyes, your lips stretching around him, your eyes watering slightly as you take him as deep as you can. “F-fuck…” he curses, his breath ragged, as he watches himself disappear inside you inch by inch.“Gonna make me cum doin’ that. Are you gonna be perfect for me and swallow like a good girl ?”

The answer came in the way of a whimper you couldn’t stop, causing Joel to chuckle darkly as an acknowledgement. He picks up the pace and, with a final, hard thrust, Joel buries himself deep in your throat, coming in a strangled moan that sounds very much like your name. 

And so there you were—knees on the cold patio floor of your dad’s house, lips still tingling and your mouth full of cum. Joel Miller, the man you despised, was standing in front of you, his chest rising with rough, uneven breaths. His hand was still tangled in your hair, idly, almost possessively, like he hadn’t decided to let go yet. He looked down at you, and you swallowed under the weight of his gaze. His eyes dragging over your mouth, down your throat, and finally meeting yours again, his breathing just beginning to steady. Then, he loosened his grip in your hair, allowing you to move from him, a strand of cum and saliva connecting your swollen lips to the tip of his softening cock. The sight of you—lips parted, breath shaky, eyes still wide—made Joel chuckle, low and dark. There was no humor in it, not really. Just heat. Satisfaction. 

He helped you back up, his touch steady, almost too gentle after everything. You wobbled for a moment, heart still racing, and smoothed your dress with shaky fingers, eyes avoiding his like they might burn. The silence was deafening as he pulled back his clothes. You couldn’t even look at him, not really—not with the feel of his dick still lingering in your mouth, the taste of him still not gone. The air felt colder now. Or maybe it was you, sobering fast under the weight of everything that just happened.

But before you could say anything, his thumb slid over your lips once more. Just like earlier with the joint, but this time it wasn’t casual. This time it lingered, drawing a painfully slow line against your skin. His eyes were fixed on your mouth, dark with something primal, an intensity that made your breath hitch. It was like he could still feel you there, still feel the way you had taken him so well, so eager. And from the smug tilt of his lips, it was clear he liked it.

“Guess you can back up that mouth after all.”

[mehiwilldoitlater]

When you were taken by your original world and sent into some kind of ancient China, full of demons and monsters, you weren't exactly sure why you were supposed to assist the "Destined one." Damn, you didn't even know how this.

When you find out that this destiny one was some kind of successor of Sun Wukong, saying that you were surprised was a joke.

His eyes scrutinized you; they were dark with a tint of gold when the light stricked them. He silently circled you, creating some distance between you, himself, and the other monkeys, curious about the mortals that presented themselves on their mountain.

Every time you tried to keep some distance, he was ready to close it enough to never leave his sight. What a strange situation, and what strange creature was sent to him just at the dawn of his journey.

The stories portrayed Wukong, as the name says, as a monkey kind of guy: cheerful, ready to make some jokes, who liked to make fun of people and laugh. And yet, the destined one was nothing like this trope.

He was composed, serious, and always straight forward. It was like he decided to expel every fun side from him in order to fulfill his duty.

Despite that, he showed more side to you: he was caring, trying to understand your confusion and fear while in a new world, always remembering to keep your peace while walking to make sure that you didn't get lost around. He was your protector, always ready to strike at every danger, and a good friend in the moment of agony.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't cry for these things, but... I'm sorry, so sorry."

You missed home. You never could believe yourself, but you missed your monothone and unsavory life. You missed waking up, going to walk, listening to endless hours of your boss rumbling—you missed even the crappy food of the cafeteria!

Everything seems so far away, without hope of reaching it. And you felt like trash because he was the one that was there to listen. You felt ashame, ashame of the fact that you were there complaining about what you lost while he was there fighting for both of you. You tried to cover your eyes, holding your breath to calm down, but nothing worked at all.

A stream of tears keeps on crashing down, hiccups escaping your lungs without stop.

Then, you felt his arms—two pairs of strong and soft arms, protecting your now vulnerable state from everything and everyone. His tail followed his gesture, keeping you in place and warm—so warm.

"Please." His high peech voice is now reduced to a whisper. "Don't hold it. Don't hold the pain. I can't see you like this. Please, whatever cloud your heart, speak to me."

Soon, you both became inseparable. You followed him like a shadow, carrying pills and balms, making plans with him for your next move. Damn, even Bajie couldn't believe his eyes when he saw you behind the monkey, a little afraid of the newcomer of the group.

You weren't anymore just some random mortal the Destined one had found and kept at his tail; now you were the Destined done caompanion and trusted friend. His journey became your journey, and his task your task. You both became bound by a silent vow.

"Say...why don't you choose a name? A real one this time."

"I never thought about it." He started to play with a leaf fallen from the nearby tree, thinking about your new idea.

You reached his side, holding his hand in yours, caressing the black claws on it. Once those scared you, now you wonder if a nice manicure could make them look prettier than now.

"Well, you can't let me call you Destined One or Monkey forever! You need a proper name! Something nice! ...umm...how about... Yuánfèn?"

"Um? Since when can you name people here?"

"Well," you continued, "it's destiny in Chinese, no? Like..fate!"

He looked at you, then laughed between his teeth a little. "There's no difference in how they usually call me then!"

"Yes, but...this is how I call you! So is different!"

Soon, you start to not miss home that much. You start to hope to be closer to him—to not go back. You hope that, after your honeymoon, you can stay together and that, despite all, there can be a happy ending for both of you. And silently, in his head, he hoped that too.

"May i?"

He gave you his silent consent, allowing you to caress his cheek with your so small fingers. Your lips met his own, your gesture so timid and gentle that you ask yourself if it's still a small image in your mind instead of something that you're actually doing now. He hasn't moved an inch; confusion starts to come to him and yourself, to the point that you need to stop. Now you just feel ashamed; you felt that you crossed a line, and now you don't even know if you can even go back.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

A small shush from him, his finger holding your chin and guiding you against him. This time, he's trying to mimic your gesture, a blush forming from his face to the visible part of his ears. His kiss is trembling but fierce. He waited long enough to see your still puzzled face.

"I...may don't get how you did it...Can you show me...again, please?"

You don't need to let him ask again; soon your lips smash together again, showing him exactly what's happening.

Your fate is sealed with that kiss, and there's no force on heaven and earth to undo it.

@sun-jglim

[universefcb]

A BIRTHDAY WITH LANDO, LANDO NORRIS.

→ Summary: It's your birthday and he has a surprise plan for you.

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Fluff. Romance.

→ Author's note: This picture of him is so...���

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

Waking up on your birthday used to be a common occurrence. A notification or two on social media, a call from your mother, maybe a quick message from a distant friend. But that day started differently. Even before the first rays of sunlight had penetrated the bedroom curtains, your phone vibrated with an unusual notification: a calendar reminder created by someone else.

Today: The most important birthday in the universe. Get ready for the best day of your life. Love, Lando.

She smiled to herself, still half asleep. She didn't even have time to reply to the message because, in the next second, the doorbell rang.

Dragging herself to the door with one of his hoodies slung over her shoulders, she slowly opened it. On the other side, Lando was smiling, hair messy, a kraft paper bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Happy birthday, my favorite person,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to show up here before seven in the morning. “Coffee from your favorite coffee shop and chocolate croissants. I’m outdoing myself, huh?”

She let out a low laugh and pulled him inside by the hand.

“Did you hack my calendar?”

“I broke in. I really hacked. And this is just the beginning.”

They spent the morning together, taking lazy bites of breakfast and making out softly on the couch. He insisted that she couldn’t make plans for the rest of the day—“You just have to trust me,” he’d say with a mischievous smile. And she did.

Around 10am, Lando handed her a small backpack and told her to wear something comfortable.

“Not a spoiler?” she asked, curious.

“Not one. But I guarantee there’s sunshine, blue skies and something you’ll remember forever.”

The car took them out of town. Along the way, he put on her favorite playlist, sang off-key on purpose, and made up absurd versions of the lyrics just to make her laugh.

Finally, the vehicle stopped in front of a large field full of sunflowers, with a picnic table set up in the center. A wicker basket, two light-colored wooden chairs, and a small radio playing Taylor Swift's Lover in the background. She put her hand to her mouth in excitement.

"Like you...?"

“I listen when you talk, you know?” he replied, leaning his forehead against hers. “You once said that you always dreamed of a picnic in a field of sunflowers, but never had the chance.”

With tears in her eyes, she threw herself into his arms. Lando held on tightly, as if he knew that gesture was worth more than any words.

They spent hours there, laughing, eating strawberries and cheese, telling stories and taking pictures with an analog camera he had hidden. Every detail seemed carefully planned: the smell of the flowers, the taste of the food, even the position of the sun when he suggested they take a break to lie down on the grass.

“Do you want to know my real gift?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the sky. “Because what you’ve seen so far has just been the warm-up.”

She raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Is there more?”

“Yes. But you need to trust me again.”

The way back was quicker. He led her blindfolded to the top floor of his own apartment. When he removed the blindfold, she found herself in a transformed room: soft lights, dozens of photos of them hanging with little clothespins, white rose petals scattered on the floor, and a dining table set for two.

But what caught his attention was the small screen at the back of the room. Lando had set up a mini movie theater at home.

“And now... the special session: Our best moments.”

It was a compilation of videos he had filmed himself over the months—some she hadn’t even known he had recorded. Little moments, smiles exchanged in silence, her dancing in her pajamas in the kitchen, the two of them laughing until they fell into bed.

When the video ended, Lando was silent for a while, just holding her hand.

“I thought a lot about what to give you as a gift. And nothing seemed good enough... until I realized that the best thing I can give you is my time, my attention, and every version of me. Because if you want me to, I want to be here for all your birthdays. Every single one.”

She didn't respond with words—she didn't need to. The kiss that followed said everything she felt: gratitude, love, and the certainty that this was the best birthday of her life.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[misswynters]

Getting married to ekko

short drabble

requested by anon

There was a rare kind of joy that managed to push through the usual grime and chaos. Strings of mismatched lights. Some flickering, others glowing bright, were strung across the open square near the hideout. The firelight children had scavenged scraps of cloth and patched them together to create banners, their uneven stitching adding a charm no fancy Piltie celebration could ever replicate.

In the middle of it all, you stood on a small platform that the Lost Children had hastily constructed. Your dress wasn’t traditional, it couldn’t be. It was a creation, crafted lovingly by Zaunite hands. Pieces of old fabric, some shimmering with oil stains, others dyed in vibrant hues, came together to create something uniquely yours.

Ekko stood opposite you, his usual bravado tempered by something soft and awed. He wore his best—a patched-up jacket you’d once teased him about because he refused to throw it away. But it was clean, and you knew it meant something for him to wear it today. His hair was neatly made, the streaks of white bright against the locks. He had a grin on his face that was wide, even as he tried to play it cool.

Scar, who had appointed himself officiant, stood between you two. His wiry frame looked almost regal in the dim light, though his crooked grin betrayed his usual cheekiness. “Alright, settle down!” he called out to the gathered crowd of children and a few adults who had wandered in, lured by the unusual festivity. “We’re here for somethin’ special tonight. None of your usual fightin’ or stealin’, this is about family.”

The children, sitting cross-legged around the square, erupted in cheers. You caught Ekko’s gaze, and the two of you shared a smile, the kind that spoke of shared dreams and whispered promises.

Scar cleared his throat dramatically. “Now, I ain’t exactly licensed or whatever it is those Pilties do, but who needs paperwork when you’ve got love, right?” The crowd laughed, and he winked at you. “So, let’s get to it. You two got somethin’ to say?”

Ekko took your hands, his palms calloused and warm against yours. His thumbs brushed over your knuckles as he looked at you, his voice steady but soft. “I never thought I’d get to have somethin’ like this,” he began. “Not here, You—you’ve made me believe that we can make anything, even in grimy place. You’re my balance when the world feels too heavy, my fire when it’s too cold. I promise, no matter what comes, I’ll always fight for us.”

You felt your chest tighten, your heart swelling as the words you’d wanted to say fought to escape. “Aww!,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “You’ve shown me that even in a place as broken as Zaun, there’s beauty worth fighting for. You’ve given me hope, and I want to spend every day proving to you that you were right to believe in us. I’m yours, forever.”

The children cheered again, but Scar waved them down with a grin. “Hold on, hold on! We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” He nodded to a group of children at the side, who scrambled to their feet. The youngest among them, a tiny girl with oversized goggles slipping down her nose, held a small wooden box. She marched forward with all the seriousness of someone tasked with an important mission. Ekko knelt to her level, his grin widening as she opened the box to reveal the ring he’d made.

It wasn’t like any ring you’d ever seen. The band was crafted from a piece of scrap metal, polished until it gleamed faintly in the light. Set into it was a shard of green crystal, likely salvaged from some forgotten Zaunite machine. But the real magic was in the delicate etchings along the band—tiny gears and vines, symbols of growth and movement intertwined. It was unmistakably Ekko’s work, a reflection of his resourcefulness and heart.

“You made this?” you whispered, your fingers brushing over the ring as he slid it onto your hand.

“Course I did,” he replied, a hint of bashfulness creeping into his voice. “Nothing else felt good enough for you.”

Scar clapped his hands together, breaking the moment with his usual exuberance. “Alright, lovebirds, that’s it! You’re officially stuck with each other.”

Laughter and applause erupted as the children threw bits of torn paper and confetti into the air, creating a chaotic, colorful storm around you. Ekko pulled you into his arms, his laughter mingling with yours as the two of you spun in the midst of it all.

The celebration that followed was as Zaunite as the ceremony itself. Someone had rigged a broken radio to play static-filled music, and the children danced wildly, their joy infectious. A few of the older kids brought out food, whatever they could scrounge together. As the mismatched feast was laid out on a long, uneven table.

Ekko never strayed far from your side, his hand lingering on your waist or your fingers brushing against his arm. At one point, he leaned close, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You know, for a thrown-together wedding in the middle of Zaun, this might be the best day of my life.”

You laughed, leaning into him. “Might be?”

“Okay, fine. Is the best day,” he admitted, his grin softening.

As the night wore on and the children began to drift off, Ekko led you to a quiet corner, away from the noise. The lights overhead flickered, casting his face in warm, uneven purple shadows. “Hey,” he said, his tone still soft. “Can’t believe we are official married now!”

You reached up, your hand cupping his cheek. “Unreal that i can officially call you my husband.”

For a moment, the chaos of Zaun fell away, and it was just the two of you. Two survivors, two dreamers, building something beautiful in the midst of ruin. And as he kissed you, the city seemed a little brighter, and the air a little lighter.

note. if there’s any mistakes let me know!

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @annybah @niredsw @stqrlxght @kriss-w @marilovz @blkmystery @multiverse-fandoms-2001 @turquoizxe @mishellii @kor-0suu @feelya @theamazingmilli @multim00n @m00nd0v3 @sodavrr @maialublmere @radtragedyarcade @spiderhook @night-fall-moon

banner. @anitalenia

[theonevoice]

Have a gold star...

I swear, I started this as a wholesome innocent comment on how when Crowley has to think of a prize, after 6000+ years, his sweet head still goes to stars as the ultimate symbol of something beautiful and cherished.

But then I was struck by something: sarcasm.

Both times, when he tells someone to "have a gold star," he doesn't say it with a tone of affectionate irony, like the cool-but-sweet uncle with a rough personality but a soft heart. He says it with a tone of bitter sarcasm, of painful disenchantment.

Because it's not a prize that he is offering; it's a sop, a cruel joke-gift, something that will get you excited at first just because you have a stupid, naive, innocent soul, and you will later realize that it means nothing to the one who assigned it to you, and that they are ready to take it away whenever they want, while the rest of the world laughs at your ridiculous gullibility.

Because this is what stars were for him.

They were his beloved, exciting creation. The star-factory nebula was his cherished task, assigned to him by God, and he believed that it was meant to be a thing of beauty and splendor, and hold value in the grand scheme of the universe... only to discover, immediately after he created it, that it was never intended to have any value at all. It meant nothing to God. It wasn't even planned to last enough to fullfill its purpose. It was a joke, a cruel prank. 

The stars were God's bad pun of giving angel!Crowley something to do, and love, and have hope and expectations for, and then taking it away. Revealing that it was just a shiny piece of gold cardstock that only a simpleton could consider valuable. Of course he can only say "have a gold star" as a dry snarky sarcastic comment on someone who thinks they have achieved something meaningful when it's actually nothing. Be it the Them defeating the Four Horsemen. Be it Muriel being noticed by the Metatron.

Great, sure, have a gold star, be all excited and squealing with happiness, it will turn into ashes before you even know it.

I am not sure that Crowley's snake eyes were ever intended to signal that he cannot see the stars because snakes have bad vision (even ignoring the zoological fact that they are sensitive to UV light though, so they should still see astronomical objects, in the book it says that demons must be able to see at night, and that's why Crowley doesn't need to turn on the lights on the Bentley), but for sure the Fall and Heaven's cruelty has ruined the stars for him, in a way.

Now, in his mind, they are the ultimate symbol of delusion, of naivety, of foolishly investing your love and passion and hopes in something, of stupidly ignoring that the things you cherish will be ruined or taken away from you or leave you on their own accord.

That's also why Aziraphale's "nothing lasts forever" cuts him so deep. That's why his "no... no, I dont' suppose it does" sounds so much like a truth that he is remembering instead of one that he has jsut discovered.

Here you go, you did it again, you thought you had something significant and instead it was just like your stars, you should have known that whenever you find something beautiful it's just a matter of time before you lose it, you shouldn't get too attached.

In s1e6 he says it to the Them, in s2e6 he says it to Muriel. I do hope that in s3e6 he will get the chance to say it again, but this time it will be honest and out of joy, because whatever is going to happen will make him able again to believe that you can be happy, and can hold onto the good things that you love. You can have all the gold stars, for real. They don't always have to disappear and leave you in pain. They can stay with you.

[tarotwithavi]

Love letter from your future spouse

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Masterlist

Paid services

I have been scammed recently and am now in urgent need of money. Any help you can offer would be greatly appreciated.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 1

My Dear Sunshine,

From the moment I first laid eyes on you, my world changed in ways I never imagined possible. I remember that day so clearly the way you walked into the room with such grace, your smile lighting up the space around you. I was completely captivated. My heart raced, and I knew, in that instant, that you were someone extraordinary.

As we spoke, I found myself drawn to your kindness, your intelligence, and your genuine warmth. Every word you said, every laugh we shared, deepened my infatuation. I had never felt such a powerful connection with anyone before. You were like a breath of fresh air, and I couldn't get enough.

I often think about that first meeting and how it felt like destiny had brought us together. I am so grateful for that moment because it was the start of something beautiful, something I never want to end.

You have become such an important part of my life, and I can't imagine my future without you in it. I want you to know that my feelings for you are deep and unwavering. I am committed to cherishing you, supporting you, and standing by your side through all of life's ups and downs.

I promise to never let you go, to hold onto this incredible love we share, and to always make you feel as special as you are to me. You are my heart, my joy, and my everything.

Thank you for being the wonderful person you are and for allowing me to be a part of your life. I look forward to many more beautiful moments together and a lifetime of love.

Yours forever,

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 2

My Dearest Love,

Every moment without you feels like an eternity. I long for you with every beat of my heart and every breath I take. My days are spent thinking of you, dreaming of the life we’ll share. I am waiting for you, holding onto the hope that soon we will be together.

I have so many plans for us, my love. I imagine us exploring the world together, hand in hand. We'll travel to the places we've always dreamed of, wandering the streets of Paris, watching the sunset in Santorini, and walking through the cherry blossoms in Kyoto. Each place will be a new adventure, a new memory created with you by my side.

But more than the places we’ll go, it’s the journey we’ll take together that excites me the most. We’ll face the challenges of life, supporting and loving each other through every obstacle. We'll fight against the world if we must, standing strong together, never letting go of each other. Your strength and courage inspire me, and with you, I feel I can face anything.

Eventually, we will create our own world, a sanctuary built on our love and shared dreams. A place where we can be ourselves, free and happy, surrounded by the warmth of our love. I see us building a home filled with laughter, joy, and endless love. A place where our hearts will always find peace and where our souls will be forever entwined.

I miss you more than words can express. My heart aches for the day when we no longer have to be apart. Until then, know that I am here, waiting for you, planning our future, and dreaming of the incredible life we will share.

With all my love,

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 3

My lovely butterfly,

I hope this letter finds you well, wrapped in the warmth of your own beautiful spirit. There are so many things I want to say to you, so many feelings that often get lost in the day-to-day rush of life.

Firstly, please know that I see you. I see the strength in your independence, how you navigate life with such grace and determination. It's one of the things I admire most about you; your ability to stand tall even when the world tries to push you down.

I want you to promise me something, my love. Promise me that no matter what challenges come our way, you'll never lose hope of finding me. Promise me that even on the darkest days, you'll hold onto the belief that we are meant to be together, that our paths will cross when the time is right.

I cherish every moment we spend together, every smile you grace me with, every laugh that echoes through my heart. Your jokes, even the ones that aren't funny, they light up my world in ways you can't imagine. And your madness, oh, how I adore it. It's the spark that ignites our moments together, the unpredictability that keeps life exciting.

I want you to know that I'll never ask you to change who you are. Your beliefs, your dreams, your quirks, they are what make you uniquely you, and that's who I fell in love with.

I promise to always respect your individuality, to never force my beliefs upon you or mold you into someone you're not. Through the ups and downs, the twists and turns of life, I'll be there. I'll be your rock, your shoulder to lean on, your unwavering support. My love for you knows no bounds, it's a love that grows stronger with each passing day, with every sunrise we witness together.

So, my love, hold onto these words when doubt creeps in. Know that you are cherished beyond measure, loved unconditionally, and admired endlessly. Our love story is still unfolding, and I can't wait to see where it leads us next.

Wait for me

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[maudie-duan]

Summary: What happens when the man you've loved since childhood decides he's ready to settle down, but it turns out you are no longer his forever. How would you cope with the sudden engagement? For Blair, it's a hard pill to swallow, knowing that the beautiful girl smiling in all his pictures will get her forever. I guess it's a blue Christmas this year.

A/N: I have to make a confession: I hate Christmas music, but the first time I heard Sabrina Carpenter's 'Cindy Lou Who' I knew this was my kind of Christmas song. I love a sad song, and this song feeds my "angsty soul," So please give it a listen before you read. This whole story is my interpretation of the song. Hope you like it. Happy Holidays enjoy!!!!

Requests: Here

Word Count: 6K

Warning: Mentions of Sex, Strong Angst and Langue, Family Dynamics, Mentions of Pregnancy, Heartbreak.

 I don’t think sneaking my ex-boyfriend out of my parent’s house is the best look for anyone on Christmas morning, but technically, it’s still Christmas Eve if you haven’t gone to sleep yet, right?

To be fair, he was the one knocking on my window, stumbling his way to my bed. Casually, bringing up the past, circling back to things I thought I had already unpacked with my best friend after I scrolled his girlfriend’s social media, backtracking five years.

To be honest, she had me borderline obsessed.

He made his way to my bed and in between my legs, touching places and sharing space in the best way we knew how, and that’s the funny thing about having history.

Sometimes it makes it harder to say no when it’s knowingly what you want the second they step foot into a place that once served as a sanctuary to you both—a garden where words weaved trust that turned into secrets, carving out a space of our very own; a world that we created and while he wasn’t my first kiss he was everything else.

I’ve lost track of how many times our words of forever were passed between our mouths, tangled in shared breaths of “I swear until the day I die, I’m yours.” 

When you’re young, you believe it because it’s all you have—and we took that with us when we thought we were ready for the world—two foolish kids on an endeavor to forge these grown-up dreams of a grand gesture without a second thought, only relying on the word “love,” like love could weather any storm.

The hardest lesson we learned was that love isn’t always enough. Sometimes, you can love someone with all your being and forget that they’re not a possession—but a person. Was that our mistake? I don’t know, but we wanted to be our own people at some point and find ourselves outside of only identifying as “we.” 

Let me tell you, that’s a hard pill to swallow, and from time to time, I still find myself choking on it, especially when it is obvious we still click—we didn’t need sex to know that we still worked. That we still fit together like a puzzle that had been forgotten and dusted off, only to find that you still had every single piece. 

Still, when Harry tried to kiss me goodbye, I pulled away.

“Hey—what is it…tell me?” he asks

“Nothing…it’s just late. You know how my mom is about Christmas morning.” I lie because the reality of his leaving is starting to sink in. I’m not ready for him to leave, but we both knew that there would be an ending to this.

He laughs, attempting to shrug his jacket on, and I glimpse the joy of the familiar memory dance across his features, “Yeah, she can be kind of crazy, right?”

“Yeah—but not any crazier than your mom,” I laugh. 

“Hey now—actually…you know they kind of feed off each others crazy…” He says, fighting to find the sleeve of his jacket and when I reach to help, something falls from his pocket, a loud thud clashing against the hardwood floor, and I look down, thinking he knocked something off my shelf.

 But then I see it.

We both stare at the ground, a small box lying in the space between us, “You shouldn’t have…” I joke, bending down.

Looking back now, I don’t know what I was thinking.

You know this tends to happen when you rely on your wit to get you out of awkward situations. I thought it would be cute and clever. I would open the box, and it wouldn’t be exactly what I knew it was—a ring, but not just any ring—the ring.

“Hey—hey—hey…give me that,” He jokes, trying to turn it into a game, but I’m in too deep to give it up. I can only focus on getting a peek at the ring, which is now a broken promise, and right this second, I’m desperate enough to open this box—basque in the feeling of the “what if” this was mine.

I turn away, shoving his hand out of the way, compulsively straining to get a look at this ring, immediately getting aggressive when he tries to reach over my shoulder. “Stop Harry—” I urge.

“Come on, Blair—this isn’t funny…” He says, unamused, but he’s too late, and as I shove my elbow into his ribs, the box is flipping open, the glint of the diamond catching the light of the moon shining through the window. He stops then because what’s the use, right? Here it is—the ring—perfect, everything I would have wanted. It’s almost like a slap in the face, like he looked back on one of the many pictures I sent over the years, thinking one day this would be me. 

The ring is stunningly beautiful. There is so little light yet it’s drawn to every facet; immaculate, precise cuts creating the perfect sparkle. There is nothing humble about it, but nothing seems to be humble about him anymore, including his life choices—and here I am, holding my breath, afraid to move, listening to his flustered exhale when I slam the box closed, a loud clap shut. 

Without a word, I nudge him away from me, “Blair, listen—I was going to tell you…”

“When—? Before or after we had sex, Harry…Is that what this was?” I yell.

He panics and cups a hand over my mouth. It’s not hard, but it annoys the hell out of me, and I wrench his arm away, forcing him toward the window, “Don’t you fucking do that—you don’t get to do that—”

“I’m sorry—but seriously, Blair, let’s not wake your family,”

I let out a dry laugh, “Oh—trust me, they would understand—” I seeth.

“Oh, for fucks sake, Blair, that’s not fair—I don’t know what this was…I just really wanted to see you—” he says, raking a hand through his hair, a deep crease forming between his brows, and he licks his lips, running a hand down his face as he turns away.

“What do you want me to do? This is the way it’s supposed to work out. You know my family …I don’t really have a say. You know that—”

“Please—Harry—you’re almost 30 years old. You don’t think you have any say in your life?”

He turns around, a condescending laugh filling the space, “You of all people should understand…”

“Well—I thought I did…but I don’t think I do anymore. It just doesn’t make sense…none of this seems to make sense anymore. I don’t understand how we could be perfectly fine one day, and as soon as your dad put you on the path to be a partner at his firm—which we both knew would happen—” I start.

He shakes his head, pinching his lower lip between his thumb and index finger, contemplating my words, “Help me make it; make sense. When we knew all along what the path was going to be. Where did “WE” get lost because I did nothing but support you, and then you went away on that trip with your family—”

“And you’re on about this again…” he interrupts, words cutting like knives because this was the theme of some of our biggest arguments.

I’m shaking my head this time, confusion inching through my brain, straining to grasp for details I thought I packed away. “Now that’s not fair…” I force, my throat burning with the effort of biting back tears. 

“Listen—this is my fault—” he says, reaching for the box, “I shouldn’t have come. I knew this would be a bad idea, but I just—”

I grasp onto the box, wanting to catch his eyes. I want to see the regret, “Tell me, does it hurt you, hurting me…I could have waited for your mom’s Facebook post…I know she’s over the moon with her…just fucking smitten that’s she’s everything and more—”

“I should go,” he says, his eyes darting to the window before he slides the box into his pocket. He opens the window, and the cold breeze flits into the dark room, reminding me of how little I have on. My eyes float to the bed, already mourning us like a fading memory—disappointment crawling up my spine, the sick twist of regret already tearing at my emotions as tears fill my eyes.

“Yeah, this was a bad idea…” I tell him, choking on the words, and I can feel my body starting to tremble. I want him gone, forever, to leave and be with his girlfriend, who will get him in the daylight. Who will kiss the mouth of the man I love for the rest of her life—and I’m sick—sick with the thought of them—and damn—This was easier when there was distance when I could pretend he didn’t exist.

“I’m sorry, bee—” He whispers, a slight trimmer in his voice as he reaches out to me, and let him because if this is all that is left. I want that last kiss. I want a kiss from the lips that were once mine, but when he pulls me in, I reach for his face, and he interjects, grasping my hands in his, denying me my one last wish.

“Harry…” I whisper, hot tears burning my eyes, “It’s just you and me right now…” I plead because he has that look of goodbye in his eyes; the reality setting in, like me standing here in his old tee-shirt, is too real for him—The cold draft of the air brings the world in with it. Yes, I feel it too, but his hands are so warm, his face is so sweet and kind, and I know what he’s about to do.

“Bee—” He tries, swallowing hard, like the words are stuck in his throat, tears drawing in his eyes, and he rubs his lips together, shaking his head as his eyes dart to our hands, and I grip his hands harder because he’s going to leave.

He’s going to leave, and I’m never going to get him back.

 This man—the love of my life. 

There’s never a time he hasn’t had me, and he’s going to leave, he’s going to move on, and he will still have me because I could never let him go.

And when the tears spill over and fall down his cheeks, my body aches with a longing that’s so deep in my bones it hurts—my love for him hurts so fucking bad that I don’t think I’ll ever not love him or not want to be with him. He’s standing here breaking my heart all over again, and I still love him. I still want him always and forever like he fucking promised me because he did promise, and now she gets him; she gets to have my always and forever.

Now he’s pulling away, and I won’t let him go; I can’t let him go. 

“Bee…please…” he begs softly.

“I love you,” I cry out, “I love you so much, H—” and he pulls me into his body, letting me sob into his chest, my hot breath seeping into his body, and I breathe him in, trying to memorize our scent, but it’s there like muscle memory something I could never forget.

“You know I love you, Bee…” he breathes, pressing a warm kiss to the top of my head, “You know I will always love you, but you know that we can never do this again…”

His words slice through my pain, filling me with rage, and he’s right. We can’t do this ever again; he doesn’t get to have me like this and go back to her—and I’m so fucking mad at myself for falling into his trap because I’ve been so good. I can’t even remember the last time I talked to him. He knew what would happen when he knocked on my window, and I was so stupid to let him—yet here he is still wielding his power. 

“You have to go,” I tell him, trying to force myself from his arms, and Harry’s grip tightens.

“I’m sorry, Bee—”

“No—this was wrong—this was all wrong, and you shouldn’t have done this…we shouldn’t have done this—”

I push him toward the window, angry adrenaline a trimmer in my fingertips when I bring a shaky hand up to tuck my hair behind my ear, “You did this to us…” I tell him.

“I’m—” he starts, and I know he’s just going to try and apologize, but that will never be enough, not when I know what happens next—and what? Did he use me? Did he feel sad and come looking for my sympathy?

“Leave—” I spit.

“Bee…come on—”

“Leave!” I say louder, loud enough to send an echo through the room. He stiffens, his panic reaching his face, and I cross my arms over my chest.

“Fine—” he hisses, his hair falling into his face as he bends his body halfway through the window. Harry doesn’t even look back; he doesn’t even give me a tiny morsel of hope, and I don’t know what I was expecting. Then Harry is out the window, and I slam it shut, swiping the curtains closed.

“Merry fucking Christmas, you Asshole…” I breathe, falling onto the bed to cry. 

…

Here’s the thing about Christmas in my house: we wake up and celebrate, and nothing else is allowed. It’s the one time of the year when my mom is allowed to live in the delusion that everything is merry and bright. There’s no space to be sad. She’s up with the rising sun, her hair perfectly manicured, her make-up set for pictures, wrapped in a festive robe she just “rolled out of bed” in, and then she’s on to two more outfit changes. 

So this morning, when I woke, ready to welcome her joyful cheer, I was surprised to see none. 

I found her standing at the sink, my dad leaning against the counter like I had just interrupted a fight, maybe some disagreement they didn’t want me part of. My first thought was that they knew. They saw Harry leaving, or maybe my voice had carried, and they heard me arguing with him.

It was like being a teenager all over again as I walked toward the coffee maker to pour myself a cup. Without fail, the clink of the dish against the stone countertop ricochets through the thick silence in the room, making me jumpy; the slurp of the pour interrupted when my mom speaks.

 “All I’m going to say is let’s get through this day. I don’t want to talk about it. We can call all touch base once everyone is gone—Bee, will you stay longer this time or not?” 

I’m in the midst of taking a sip, and the hot liquid hits my top lip, burning me as my eyes move from my dad to my mom in question, confused by whatever this is that I walked in on, “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay longer…I have a project—”

“Can you—?” she asks flatly like you better say “yes.” 

I look to my dad, who raises his brows, eyes widening, and he blows out a breath, his lip puffing as he brings his coffee to his mouth, “Fine.” I answer because it doesn’t seem like there’s any other option.

And that was it—She switched up her mood as quickly as the conversation ended. I stood there sipping my coffee, mentally preparing, and that’s how we carried on, pushing it under the rug.

It started with presents, each gift given its proper praise, mom all smiles, dad snapping pictures, my sister nudging my shoulder as a constant reminder to keep up the show, and it was perfect—it was— but every time the camera flashed. I could feel myself drifting to the thought of all the pictures that would greet me when I opened my phone

How her red lips and long dark hair would steal my breath, her beauty outshining us all. 

She became the jealous quake in my bones at the thought of Harry down on one knee, entrancing my thoughts, repeatedly threatening to pull me out of the moment—and now my mom is shouting from across the room, bidding for my attention, as I try and swallow the persistent lump burning a hole in my throat, making every word a battle of will to say the most straight-forward sentence

 It wasn’t fair; It wasn’t fair that I got to sit with it all day—a reel of memories cascading through my mind, always the slightest reminder to remind me of the past.

The smallest gestures, a deep-seeded pain strangling my insides; all my dad had to do was glance down at his watch. The watch Harry gave him when he turned forty or every time my mom tucked her hair behind her ear, I caught sight of the diamond earrings he got her and his mom, making them both laugh the last Christmas we all shared because that was our thing—it almost doesn’t seem real that our moms used to be best friends, nowadays it feels like a lifetime since they even shared one word, my mom growing bitter the day Harry broke my heart.

A sudden breakup can wreck anyone, and inherently, our families became the collateral damage, causing a complicated ripple through us all, a rigid divide that none of us knew how to address, let alone manage any semblance of a relationship; maybe that was our fault. I couldn’t be his friend. It hurt too much to try and mask my feelings, to manipulate them into something they weren’t, like right now—how I’m torturing myself, scrolling through social media, almost hoping I’ll see the pictures I know his mom will post. 

Perhaps it will be what I need; to rip the bandaid off, the right push I need to fucking move on because I don’t know how much longer I can live in the misery of what was and wasn’t.

Disassociating.

The word of the day—a single word that could describe my whole day because somehow it’s dinner, and I’m sitting around the table trying to piece together the lapse in time I’ve lost.

 All it takes is one look at my mom to straighten up and be present. I don’t even know what they’re talking about, nor do I care, but when my cousin Jenny asks me to pass the potatoes, and the light captures the glint of her new engagement ring, my stomach drops, the hideous ache of jealousy climbing up my spine, and I’m sick again, my stomach turning at the thought, that maybe he’s already done it, maybe he’s asked her and she’s wearing his ring on her finger, and they’re sitting around the table; and every time she takes a bite it reflects the light from the chandelier, everyone smiling because what a happy time, what a perfect day.

What a bright fucking future they have.

This time, I can’t control it; it’s all too much, and I’m scraping the chair back, politely excusing myself, then bound to the upstairs bathroom, yanking my phone from my pocket—and without a passing thought, I’m doing it—I’m calling Harry—by the first ring, I’m in panic mode, pacing back and forth, willing myself to end the call, trying to keep the phone from sliding down my sweaty palm.

I’m all adrenaline as I force the phone against my ear, the ring getting louder, and each time it rings, a gnarled knot of guilt builds in the depth of my belly. I keep looking to the toilet on the verge of falling to my knees and heaving anything that made its way to my stomach—then Harry forwards the fucking call to voicemail, and tears are spilling over my lids, my whole body hot, like maybe I’ll combust right here, explode with the fury of heat rising in my body.

I’m surprising myself when I press his name again, bringing the phone back to my ear, and I hold my breath, waiting for the first ring. It rings and then rings again, and by the third ring, I think I might get through—and it’s all a joke because yeah fucking right—By the fifth ring, I’m second-guessing myself again, shame eating away at my flesh, and then he’s forwarding the call again—my shame flying out the window.

Okay, yes, maybe this is the part where I tell you I should be embarrassed—but fuck it, I’m calling again, losing myself a little more each time he forwards my call. 

By the 8th call, I’m tormenting myself, a pitiful excuse of a human on the ground so caught up in my own grief that I don’t even hear my sister knocking on the door. The knock sounds, making my heart leap in my chest, the fear of being caught ripping through like an earthquake, and I’m up, catching sight of my reflection in the mirror, not even recognizing the person looking back at me. 

I haven’t felt this desperate since we broke up, like an anxious tick buzzing under my skin. The humiliation of it all is a time bomb, counting down the seconds until it ignites inside me—and I’m there. I ignore the steady stream of knocks and crouch down like the monster I’ve become because I can’t look at myself and do what I know I’m about to do—it’s my one last stance, and I shoot Harry a text:

“Your a fucking coward!” I send and then realize I used the wrong fucking “your,” and my pride won’t let me go out like this. I send a quick “you’re” to fix my mistake and watch the screen, knowing he is now more aware of his than before. When the line changes from “delivered” to “read,” I watch the tiny dots collect in the corner of the screen, awaiting his reply.

They appear and disappear several times until it finally stops altogether, and he leaves me on read.

Just as I’m about to send “fuck you!” my sister opens the door, pushing the bobby pin she used to pick the lock back into her hair, and closes the door behind her. “Dude, whatever is going on right now—you need to get it together—it’s one fucking day, okay…that’s all mom asks for, and she���s down there growing impatient. So seriously…if you’re up here freaking out about another dude you met on a dating app—like this isn’t the time—”

“I had sex with Harry—” I confess right then and there because I know this will be the only thing that will make her understand.

“No—” she says, pulling a handful of toilet paper from the roll, “We’re not doing this right now…” She wipes the tears from my face and forces me out of the bathroom and into my room.

“You have two minutes to get your shit together. I need Mom to be in a good mood today…listen, I have big shit going on too, but you don’t see me up here crying—” and she’s right. I saw her pregnancy test in our shared bathroom trash. She must have been panicked when she half-assed her wrapping job on her test. I know I taught her better than that, but this was what I needed to pull myself back up.

I came down the stairs with a smile. 

Everyone in the sitting room was having coffee and dessert; this was the last stretch. This is all we had left, and then I could check my phone that my sister made me leave upstairs—and so I would drone on keeping up with conversations, tossing out witty remarks, bringing laughter and joy to everyone around, and when my mom sent me a genuine smile, I felt myself smiling back, enjoying the company of my family; and when dad slipped me the “good” eggnog, I realized that there’s nothing better at taking the edge off then alcohol.

Four eggnogs in on an empty stomach, and I was working the room, exaggerating about my life and all the projects I’ve taken on at work, dodging questions about my dating life, and when my grandma brought up Harry four times, dammit, I didn’t even flinch, I just kept the conversation moving, filtering out the emotions coursing through me like a breeze on a sunny day, right before a summer storm sets in. I even kept it cute and classy when cousin Jen took her engagement ring on a tour around the room, gutting me like a fish when she said, “I never thought I would get married before you…you know…like you and Harry were like “it” you know—” and I’m smiling again, getting a nod of approval from mom when she hears me congratulate Jen again, admiring her beautiful ring.

By eggnog five, I’m switching to “what he’s having,” I shout to my dad as I watched him pour, maybe whisky over the rocks, a shallow pour, but it packed a punch.

 I knew it was time to dial it back when I found myself leaning over Jenny, who was flipping between her social platforms, landing on Facebook, where I know for a fact Harry’s mom would be posting, taking care to tag everyone in each photo—which brings me back to the time when dear ole’ cousin Jenny started following Harry. It was Christmas break, we had just turned fifteen, and I could tell she had a crush on him. She spent all Christmas break following us around, cornering him anytime she could get him alone; I had to share my bed with her that Christmas, and I remember how miserable I was without the gift of Harry crawling through my window on Christmas Eve.

It’s wild to think of how feeble my grasp on time was when we were young, how a couple of weeks could feel like an eternity; it’s been less than a day since I saw him last. How am I supposed to go a lifetime of never hearing his voice again, to not look into those green eyes that have seen me through so many changes, not to feel those hands that have cradled me like a child, held me like a lover, squeezing and pulling me into shapes that fit him; arms that carried and lifted me to heights that I could never have reached on my own.

Maybe I’m speaking figuratively because no one has carried me at my worst or lifted me at my best until I was the best version of myself, but isn’t funny how the people that bring out our best know exactly how to rally the worst parts of us.

Mom taps her dessert spoon to her glass, grabbing everyone’s attention. It’s time for her big send-off speech. My eyes dart to my sister leaning against the fireplace, rolling her eyes, “I just want to start by saying I’m so thrilled that you’ve all chosen to spend this joyous holiday with us…you all know this is my absolute favorite holiday and every year I look forward to spending it with each and every one of you—” she tells us raising her glass, and everyone knows what’s coming next and as she starts her final lines— the same lines she uses every year—my sister sends me a wink mouthing the lines in unison with our mother.

“There’s no time like Christmas to let you know how appreciated you are. I feel honored to call you family…” and her hook, line, and sinker is, “May the light of Christmas warm your hearts this holiday season and remember love is the true spirit of Christmas—” 

My throat burns as she finishes, “And always know how much I love you and always will…so before I start getting too emotional, I better cut myself off—” she laughs, wiping a tear from her eye, and as much as I hate how crazy she gets about Christmas, she really is amazing at being so selfless; to give everyone such a beautiful day, and I’m so grateful for her and my family, and then the doorbell rings taken everyone by surprise.

 We all freeze, eyes moving around the room because we’re all here, and no one is expecting anyone.

“Fred—” my mom calls to my dad. “Are we expecting anyone else?” 

My dad’s reaction is slow, but he launches himself from the chair and excuses himself. When he comes back, he looks bewildered, half-tipsy as he shrugs his shoulders to tell us no one was there—and that was that. No one blinked an eye—yet my first thought was Harry, and I felt myself slipping because the whole day had passed; certainly, theirs was over by now, and the thought had me breaking my own heart, picturing her in his old bed, the whole family tucked away in their rooms, still riding out the high of such a magically joyful day.

And she’ll kiss his lips and say, “I love you.” He’ll lay her down in the bed I gave myself to him in, and he’ll make love to her like he loved me last night, and there is no end; there’s no end to the torture of it all because how can one person fuse themselves to every fiber of my being—and more importantly how could I still allow it?

As the last guest passed our threshold, Mom, being the gracious host she was, sent them off with candies and cookies, and I stood there wishing I was more like her, like my sister, who could always pretend, who knew how to wear “the smile” like a badge of honor.

 I wondered why this all had to be so hard. Why is love all or nothing? Why can’t we flip a switch and “poof,” it’s gone?

I watched my mom close the door, my siblings dispersing, and my dad already making his way back to his chair, but my mom just stood there. She let out a heavy sigh, her once-perfect posture decompressing as she held on to the doorknob.

 “Oh Bee—” she said, eventually turning around to face me, and suddenly it looked like the weight of the day had finally caught up to her beautiful features, now tired—a mournful pinch between her brows, pursuing her lip while her eyes roamed my face. I’m trying my hardest to keep it together because there is something about that look a mom can give, that “I can fix everything with a hug” look.

“Do you need anything…I didn’t sleep very well last night. I was thinking of calling it early. if that’s okay?” I ask

“Oh honey, don’t worry about it…it’s been a long day for everyone,” she states, unbuttoning the first two buttons of her silk blouse, that mournful look still lacing her features.

“Let’s just deal with the clean up tomorrow…sound good, baby?” she tells me, slinging an arm around my shoulder, “I know today was hard for you…Thank you for being such a good sport. I’m so proud of the way you handled yourself. You did a beautiful job, sweetie.”  Her words catch me off guard, and I turn to face her, my throat burning at the thought that she knows everything.

I swallow hard, opening my mouth to let out the words building up, but I can only manage a small whimper. “Listen, honey,” Mom starts, and I’m already a puddle in her arms, wanting my mommy to make it all better.

“I’m not going to lie and say it gets better, but one day, it’s not going to hurt as bad as it hurts right now, and eventually, when you find someone new—” 

I gasped out a sob then, her words hitting every sore spot on my body, “Shhh—Shh—I know baby, I know—but listen,” She said, cradling my face in her hands, “I know that this isn’t what you want to hear—”

“But one day you will find someone new, and they’ll be just enough to get you over that last slump of pain, and maybe if you’re lucky enough…which I know you are…Harry will become a pleasant memory of the past, baby, because both of you were so lucky to have what you had. Not everyone will get to say they had a love like the two of you shared, and that is so so special, honey, so special—”

The tears are rolling down my cheeks faster than my mom can swipe them away, and it’s taking every ounce of strength I have to keep myself upright, “I love him so much—” I push past the sob, shuttering through me.

“I know, honey, I know—one of the hardest lessons we can learn is to let the people we love go, let them go so they can be free, and if it’s meant to be, they’ll come back—”

“I can’t, Mom, I can’t do it,” I cry, trying to bury my face into her shoulder, but she has a firm grip on it. Blair Marie, you are so strong, honey, and we are all here for you. You can do this, okay?” she says, nodding her head up and down.

“Okay?” She asks again, and I nod in agreement, “Listen—between you and me, we’re going to have our hands full anyway, right? Don’t think I don’t know about your sister—she’s next.”

I’m stunned into silence. “Yeah, I know. That’s how I felt at first. Honey, I love you. I am here for you. Now go get some rest…” she says, pushing me toward the stairs.

“Oh—and hopefully, we aren’t expecting any unexpected guests this evening….”

I shake my head, “I—” 

“Yeah, slamming your window at the crack of dawn is a dead give away—”

Somehow, she manages to get a smile out of me, and I roll my eyes, ready to make my way up the stairs, “Hey, Mom, thank you for making today so beautiful…it really was beautiful.” I tell her.

“Oh—! And Mom, thank you for those kind words. I love you.” she smiles, placing a hand over her heart, and we share a look of knowing—and without a doubt, that woman managed to lift my spirits—again. 

She’s too good at that; she is father fucking Christmas.

And while my heart still felt heavy, I felt like I could get through this night. I would march into my room, head straight for my phone, and turn it off; there would be no doomsday scrolling. 

I would take a shower, hell maybe even take a hot bath to rid myself of this day—Maybe I would even start packing away everything in my childhood room that reminded me of him, set myself up for the next year, and seriously, it was amazing how quickly the motivation surged up my chest; almost bursting at the seams with the very thought of it.

So by the time I turned my knob, I was ready, so fucking ready—But as the door clicked open, a cold chill grazed over my wrist. All I saw was my curtains billowing back and forth with the breeze flowing in and out of my window, and I rushed over to shut the damn window because I didn’t remember opening it, but maybe my sister opened it while I was fixing my make up earlier and that’s when I hear it:

“Bee—” 

I slam the window shut, panic rushing through me, every limb on my body shaking with it as I turn toward the sound. And there he is, the love of my life, sitting on the edge of my bed, hunched over with his face buried in his hands, and when he looks up. I can tell he’s been crying, and he pulls a small box from his pocket and places it on the nightstand, right next to the very same box that held his future, and all he says is, “I couldn’t do it—”

[m4rv3l-girl]

bucky barnes couldn't be happier having not only been married to you for about a year now, but your also six months pregnant James is obsessed with your belly and starts talking about how happy he is about his life

Couldn’t Be Happier

Warnings: Pregnancy. Fluff.

Bucky Barnes stirred awake, his senses immediately drawn to the familiar, comforting weight of your body curled against his.

His metal arm, now warmed from hours of resting against your skin, lay protectively over your midsection, fingers spread wide across the growing curve of your belly.

He blinked, his blue eyes slowly focusing on you. There you were - his wife, his everything - tucked into the cocoon of blankets. A soft, sleepy smile tugged at his lips as he took you in. Your face was peaceful, framed by strands of hair that had escaped your messy bun, and your hand rested on top of his over your belly, cradling the little life the two of you had created.

“Good morning, doll,” he murmured, his voice low and raspy with sleep. His lips brushed against your temple, lingering for a moment as if to soak in the serenity of the moment.

You stirred, letting out a small hum before opening your eyes to meet his. “Morning, James,” you replied, your voice still heavy with sleep, the way it always softened when you used his first name sending a pleasant warmth coursing through him.

Bucky shifted slightly, propping himself on his elbow to get a better look at you. His eyes immediately wandered down to your belly where his child grew. The sight made his heart swell with a mix of pride and adoration. His free flesh hand joined the metal one, both gently caressing the curve as though it was a sacred treasure.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he said, his gaze flicking back to your face.

You rolled your eyes playfully, though your cheeks flushed under his intense gaze. “You’re just saying that because I’m carrying your baby,” you teased, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed how much his words meant to you.

Bucky shook his head, his expression turning serious. “Nah, doll. You were beautiful before, and you’re even more beautiful now.” His voice softened further as he added, “You’re glowing, and it’s not just the pregnancy. It’s you. You make everything brighter.”

You laughed lightly, a sound that always managed to put him at ease. “You’re too sweet for your own good.”

“Nope,” he said again, leaning down to press a kiss to your belly. “I’m just lucky. I get to wake up every day next to my best girl. And now…” His voice trailed off as he glanced at your bump, his eyes twinkling with emotion. “Now we’ve got a little one on the way. Life doesn’t get much better than this.”

Your heart melted at his words.

Bucky had always been an open book when it came to you, but seeing him like this—so openly in awe of the life you were building together—made you fall in love with him all over again.

“What do you think they’ll be like?” he asked suddenly, his voice tinged with wonder. His hands remained on your belly, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns as though he were communicating with the baby. “Do you think they’ll have your eyes? Or your smile? God, I hope they have your laugh.”

You chuckled, reaching up to run your fingers through his dark hair. “I don’t know, Buck. But I do know one thing—they’re going to have the best dad in the world.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. Instead, he leaned down and kissed you—a slow, tender kiss that spoke of gratitude, love, and promises of forever.

As the morning stretched on, the two of you stayed like that, tangled together in your little bubble of happiness. Bucky spent the better part of an hour talking to your belly, his voice light and full of excitement. He told the baby about all the things he couldn’t wait to do—taking them to Coney Island, teaching them to ride a bike, watching them grow up and become their own person.

“And I’ll tell you what, kiddo,” he said with a grin, his forehead resting against your belly. “I’m gonna make sure you and your mom know every single day just how loved you are. That’s a promise.”

You watched him with a soft smile, your hand gently stroking his hair. He was completely and utterly smitten, and it was a side of him you never grew tired of seeing.

“James,” you said softly, catching his attention. He looked up at you, his expression open and full of love. “You’ve already given us everything. Just you being here… it’s more than enough.”

His brows furrowed slightly, and he moved to sit up, pulling you into his lap with an ease that still surprised you. “Doll, you’ve given me everything. This—” he gestured to your belly and then to the two of you—“this is all I ever wanted. A family. A home. You.”

You blinked back tears, overwhelmed by the depth of his words. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

“I love you too, kitten. More than anything,” he replied, his lips brushing against yours once more.

As the day went on, Bucky remained as attentive as ever, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. He was obsessed in the best way, constantly doting on you and the baby.

Even though he was already your husband, your everything, it was in moments like these that you realized just how deeply he cherished the life you’d built together.

——————————————————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed this, Hun! 🫶

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

BABY GIRL

Pairing - Jackson Rippner x fem!reader

Summary - Jackson likes to keep you doped up for both of your safety.

Warnings - Non-con, dub-con, drugging, manipulation, degrading, p in v, edging.

Word count - 1.9k+

Notes - Guess who wanted to work on one of her WIP's but decided to watch Red Eye and just had to write another one about my favourite boy.

You laid on the bed, completely naked against his body, he only wore his boxers, your left leg draped over his hips, his hand slowly caressing your back as your face was pressed up against his lean bare chest. 

The audio of the television was muffled, your sight blurred as you slowly breathed in and out. The sheets were hardly covering your flesh, but you were too dazed to pay attention to it. The sensation of his large fingers caressing your tender skin was enough to earn gentle moans from your soft lips. His cold blue eyes watched you like a hawk. Almost skeptical that you would commence a ploy against him, despite your doped state. 

Jackson Rippner was fascinated by you. The moment he saw you, he knew that you would be his. It was unfortunate with the circumstances you met under. Star crossed lovers in his opinion, a bit of a spiced uniqueness to your relationship.  

You were assigned to investigate him for terrorism. Many times you were warned about your high levels of ambition, your eagerness put you in danger. But you were always too stubborn to listen to your superiors. 

“Jackson” you murmured against his chest, almost drooling. He sighed lightly, his hand rubbing circles around your lower back. 

“Yes baby?” He asked softly, there was silence for a brief moment. Jackson waited patiently for you to respond as you raised your heavy head. 

“Are you going to keep me drugged up forever” you slowly questioned, your eyes ached to stay open, your thoughts blurred with sweet nothings. 

There was this blank, emotionless stare from him. As he was questioning himself, he really did wonder what he’d do with you in the long run. The thought of him keeping you mindless for the rest of your days made the blood rush to his cock. Only being mentally capable to muse the thought of him touching, fucking, loving you. 

But then he also wanted to take you out for an expensive dinner, vacate at a ski resort, hold you from behind as you cook him a loving homemade meal. Jackson never considered himself a romantic, but different people create a better you. The idea of having a life as one together made his heart flutter. 

“No baby girl” he answered eventually. 

“When will you stop” you breathed out, a small smile on your lips, a thread of hope. There was a small grin on his lips as his hands gently rubbed your hips. 

“When I know you’ll be a good girl for me” Jackson mocked, pulling you completely over his hips to saddle him. 

“I am a good girl” you countered, your head felt heavy yet your thoughts light. 

“Because you’re drugged up” he laughed softly, his large hand caressing your cheek as your face fell limp on him. 

“Touché” you snorted and he patted your cheek a couple of times. Sluggestly, you lifted your head back up, looking at him with innocent eyes. “Please sir, I promise to be good” you assured, but your small smile was all so devilish. 

That title always got the blood flowing to his cock. You could already feel his size growing underneath you. 

“Really? You cross your heart, hope to die, type of promise?” Jackson razzed, flashing you a toothy grin as his fingers slowly moved closer to your core.

“Yes sir” you promised, batting your eyes towards him. 

“Oh baby girl, how can I be so sure?” He toyed, titling his head to you. 

The scratches on his face were faint. Whenever he sobered you up, you were quick to get in every shot you could at him. However, you were foolish not to carefully plan out your scheme to escape, or as you preferred to do, attempting to kill him. 

“Because I love you cock Jacky” you moaned, his fingers toying with your clit. 

Within a blink, Jackson had flipped you onto your back. Holding your throat down against the mattress and huffing, flaring his teeth at you. “What did I tell you?” He snarled, his thumb rubbing over your chin.  

“You hate being called Jacky” you choked out, but you were still grinning at him. 

“And I thought you wanted to be a good girl” he pouted to you. 

“I do” you almost sang, coughing at the restriction to your throat. 

“Fix your mistake then” Jackson ordered calmly. 

“Because I love your cock, sir” you choked out, emphasizing the correction. With the release of your throat, Jackson sighed. 

“That’s a good whore” Jacksont grinned at you, flexing his hips forward. You pouted to him. “My good whore” he corrected himself, dropping his lips onto your neck.

It was pointless, trying to deny the sensation Jackson always brought over your body. It was too much effort to try to hide the pleasure he always bathed you in. 

This is where you belonged, underneath him, figuratively and literally. 

In small circular motions, his tongue swished over your heated skin, his hands ran slowly up and down your torso, his fingers playfully scratching at your nerves, his stubble tickled you. Your arms gradually enveloped around his back, your fingernails scraping at his skin lightly. 

“I’ll always take care of you baby girl. You know that right?” Jackson asked as he pushed his boxers down enough to free his throbbing length. 

“Yes, Jackson” you breathed out, laying your head back carelessly. 

“Could have gotten you killed, interfering with my business, like a little fucking brat. But I saved you…” Jackson grinned as he lined himself up with your gushing entrance.  

“No Jackson” you shook your head, moaning out softly as he gently pushed himself inside of you. 

“Who are you lying to?” Jackson snorted as he rested himself completely inside of our canal.

“This isn’t living” you countered, your hands rising up to the back of his neck, your legs raising up to your hips in unison.

Jackson couldn’t help but to laugh as his hips snapped back and forward. His lower lip was stuck in between his teeth as he searched for the perfect pace and speed.

“For someone who is constantly high, you sure as hell are conscious” he remarked, his hands holding onto your sides.

“I was always smarter than you” you murmured, biting onto your lower lip. 

Jackson laughed gently as his teeth nipped at your earlobe. 

“Yet look at where you are now. Be my good girl, I want to spoil you rotten. Don’t you want those things?” He toyed, his fingers rubbing your sensitive bud. 

“Yes Jackson” you answered emotionlessly. 

Most of the time it was easier to give him what he wanted, your complete submission. You were always so weak, tired, feeling out of body. The effect his touch had on your body was the biggest punishment. If you weren’t always so high, you’d be heavily humiliated with how badly you craved him. The control he had over your body was frightening, he was your puppeteer, always pulling on your strings despite how desperately you tried to cut yourself free. 

“I want to give you the world” he professed as he found the perfect rhythm to fuck you to. 

“I want to kill you” you whined out, face twitching as the high stimulation took over full steam ahead.

“No you don’t, you could never do such a thing” he mumbled, his hands pinning yours above your head. 

“But I’ve tried” you groaned as he hit your cervix. 

“And that’s okay” he assured you, kissing you in a sloppy manner as if to comfort your distressed thoughts. “You’re learning to be my good girl, yeah?” Jackson asked, teasing your bundle of nerves as he kept your pleasure swimming by the edge. 

“Yes Jackson” you shamefully admitted, your eyes swelled with tears as his thrusts became more painful. 

His mouth fell open into a large smirk at the sight of you crying. It was one of his favorite looks of yours. Over mere seconds, your tears formed into a stream as you sobbed underneath him. The clarity of your predicament washed over you once more. 

“Yeah, you’re so fucking pathetic. Acting like a tough, stuck up bitch. But you’re nothing but a little whore for cock, my cock to be precise” he grunted, feeling your walls clench around his throbbing size.

The sounds of your troubled moans always felt like a melody to him. The mixture between your logical and sensual thoughts left you in shame. Jackson kissed you deeply, your mouth was wide open but you refused to kiss him back. The taste of your tears made him growl like a wolf.

“Fuck, your director would be so disappointed in you. Everyone thinks you’re fucking dead. So get the stupid thoughts of breaking free out of that little mind of yours” he sneered, his free hand holding your chin in place as you tried to turn your head to the side. 

“Stop talking Jackson” you whimpered, desperately trying to focus on the pleasure and not his taunting words. 

“No one is looking for you. I have no tails, nobody cares about me. Only you did, you felt it too from the beginning, just like I did, our connection” he grinned as his balls slapped against your entrance. 

“Shut up Jackson” you whined as you felt your climax build. 

But Jackson loved watching you cry. It was amusing to watch your emotional strength crash, it was pleasing to look at your humiliation. A wonderful reminder of how reliable you are on him. Jackson loved to pull your strings around, to keep you on your hands and knees as he yanked you across the dirt. 

“Bet you wanted me to steal you away from your useless life. Now your biggest stress is wondering how many times you’ll get to squeeze my cock each day” he moaned out, kissing your tears away. 

“Shut the fuck up Jackson!” You screamed out as loud as you could, your weak body thrashed under him but it quickly left you exhausted. 

“Someone’s getting sober” Jackson pointed out with a grin, holding you down effortlessly. “Might just keep you tied up instead, I like your screams” he winked to you. 

“Please stop, please, please” you begged repetitively as he continued to fuck you senselessly. 

“Then tell me what I want to hear” he sighed, his hand combing back his damp hair from the sweat that trailed down his forehead.

“N-no” you shook your head, you could feel him twitch rapidly inside of you.  

You knew exactly what he wanted you to say. It was the thing you hated doing most. He always wanted you to say it when you were so close to finishing. 

“Please” he toyed, playfully begging you as he kept your built orgasm dangling from the edge.  

“Come on baby girl, make me feel good” he grunted as he smacked your rear. 

There was another weak shake of your head so Jackson held his body still inside of you. Pathetically, just like he always described you as, you whined out at the pressure built in your core. All you wanted to do right now was come undone, feel something good in this torture. But Jackson stared at you sternly, menacingly. His hands pressed down on your hips as you tried to rock yourself around him. 

“I-I love you” you admitted, your cheeks beet red. 

Instead of fucking you senselessly like you assumed he would. Jackson pulled himself out and jerked himself over you. Quickly, his white ropes of semen sprayed over your sweaty stomach. You panted, looking at the mess he made on you as your distressed expression made him chuckle silently. 

“I love you too” he replied blankly. 

As you caught your weak breath, Jackson laid his body on top of yours, his fingers touched your sensitive core, gently teasing you. You moaned out, ready to do anything to free yourself of your painful climax. 

“But so, drugged or tied?” Jackson cocked an eyebrow to you.

[seospicybin]

ON THE ROAD.

PART I

Bangchan, Han & Jeongin x reader. (s,f,a)

Chapters: Part II

Synopsis: A group of friends going on a road trip that, little did they know, will change their lives forever. (19,1k words)

ON THE ROAD PLAYLIST.

Author's note: My inbox is always open for feedback and your wild theories hehehe enjoy this one too! x

A famous author once said that friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too?"

For years, Chan believes that in order to make friends, he has to have common things with them, for example, having the same favorite books having the same hobbies, etcetera.

That's what he thought until he found out that in real life, that's not always the case.

Chan learns all about friendship when he meets his friends. He first met them at the art school 8 years ago and they remain good friends to this very second.

Because they're now living in different places and working in various professions, they have this weekly group video call every Friday at 8 pm.

Chan is so busy editing videos that he almost forgets that it's Friday and it's ten minutes to 8, he hurriedly opens his laptop to start a video call with his friends. He knows it'll take them some time to come online so he notifies his friends through the group chat too, not forgetting to add that he'll not make them watch a foreign movie tonight in the hope that they'll hurry.

That's one thing about Chan, he's passionate about movies and dreams of becoming a great movie director someday. Other than that, Chan has many great qualities about him. He's smart, he's good looking, he lives a healthy lifestyle, and a true social butterfly, something about him that makes people comfortable being around him. Those qualities combined with his dimpled smile create this magnet that attracts a lot of girls.

However, Chan only has eyes on one girl and one girl only.

"Oh, hi, Chris!" A voice that's way too familiar says through the laptop, a voice that evokes something deep within him and sends a tingle down his spine.

"Hi, Jinnie!" Chan says back with a smile.

-

Jinnie's Friday night is like any other night, she's drawing in her studio with the scented candle filling the room with the soft and sweet smell of vanilla. At times, she'll take a break to sip her tea and check her phone for the time.

It's almost 8 and she wonders why the group chat isn't blaring with notifications, she pouts thinking that everyone is too busy to have a video call tonight.

Just like the universe heard her wistful thinking, her phone chimes with a notification and her face lights up as she opens it.

It's Chan sending a link to the video call. Jinnie wastes no time to get on her laptop and clicks on the link that takes her to where everyone is going to virtually meet. A few seconds later, her face appears on the box on the screen next to Chan and that means she's the first to come online after him which is not a surprise.

"Oh!" She delightfully gasps, feeling happy to see a friendly face even though they had one of the video calls a week ago.

"Hi, Chris!" She greets him while smiling and enthusiastically waving her hand through the screen.

"Hi, Jinnie!" Chan replies with his sweet, dimpled smile.

It's kind of adorable to find him waving with his muscular arms and Jinnie can't help but smile. She adjusts her desk lamp to give her proper lighting then stacks her hands together.

"It's always us, huh?"

"What?" Chan asks as he leans closer to the screen.

"It's always you and me," Jinnie says, pointing at him and then at herself while half laughing.

Chan cracks a laugh at that, "And that means Jeongin will come next."

"Cause we all know who will come last."

"You mean who will come late?" Chan corrects him with a smirk.

Jinnie lowly chuckles and grabs her cup of tea from the other desk, "How are you, Chris?"

"I'm doing great, I guess," he answers.

"I guess?" Jinnie squinted her eyes at him as she repeated his words, "You've been staying up all night again, did you?"

"Well, uh..." Chan tries to make up an excuse but fails, he covers his eyes in embarrassment and laughs it off, "I tried not to."

"Are you working on something?"

"Yeah, I'm editing these videos for a short film I did with a friend," he answers.

"Oh? Is it the same one as the one you told me?"

"No. It's a different one."

"I know you're working, I hope you keep taking care of yourself well, Chris," Jinnie warmly tells him, genuinely concerned as a friend.

Jinnie has always been like that, kind, attentive, and a great illustrator, she's as gentle as the colors she uses in her art. She's beautiful but not solely because she's the only girl in this group of friends.

Jinnie's outer appearance matches her inside and you rarely find that kind of person.

The other often think of Jinnie as an angel that unluckily fell on this part of the earth, right in the middle of this friendship, and has become a blessing to everyone ever since.

"Oh, there's Jeongin!" She gasps, showing the same enthusiastic and bright smile whenever she sees her friends.

In other words, there's lucky to have Jinnie as their friend.

-

The letter feels heavy on his hand even though it's only a piece of paper, a piece of paper that holds his future and will forever change his life.

Jeongin should be happy, this is what he wants but something is tugging at his chest. He slips the paper back into its envelope and hides it in between pages of the book he's reading.

He reclines on his chair and runs his hands through his hair, feeling torn but he doesn't know what makes him feel that way. He closes his eyes as if it would help him shutting his mind off and ignoring the chimes that come from his phone until he remembers to check it.

Using his hand, he gropes around the table to find his phone without looking and unlocks it to find some notifications, the first three are coming from Chan.

Jeongin rushes on his chair realizing that it's Friday and he forgot about the video call. He immediately gets on his computer and logs into the link Chan sent him through the group chat.

Despite knowing that he's late, he remains calm because he knows he'll not be the last to join, there's someone else who will come later than him.

The screen takes a moment to load the video call and he appears on the lower box between his two friends, Jinnie and Chan.

"Oh, there's Jeongin!" Jinnie exclaims in joy, as beautiful and bright as usual like she's bringing her own sun wherever she goes.

"Well, Chan said we're not going to watch a weird foreign movie so here I am," Jeongin jokingly says.

"Thank you, Jeongin," Chan says, poking his cheek with his tongue, easily offended as expected which truly shows he's the oldest one in this group of friends.

"But the last one we watched was really good," Jinnie says, defending Chan with his exquisite taste in movies.

So here's the thing, everyone knows that Jinnie and Chan would make a perfect couple but it's a mystery why they're not dating yet.

Jeongin knows for sure that Chan has a feeling for Jinnie and it's so obvious, but he can't say the same about Jinnie even though it's impossible that she missed all of those signs.

Or maybe love is a simple thing because Jeongin is someone who watches from the outside and it's different for those two individuals involved. But still, Chan has been there all along and Jinnie doesn't see it, which infuriates Jeongin at times.

Whenever he sees them together, he gets the urge to point out everything but instead of that, he lets out a sigh and then puts on a smile.

"So, how are you guys?" He asks.

Jeongin has always been the quiet one, but don't take his silence as ignorance, he's very observant. He watches everything and remembers everything to the tiniest details, that's also why the others become extremely careful with what they say or do around Jeongin because they know he has their cards under his sleeves.

But being observant also means he has sound judgments about things, he's fair and sensible and that makes Jeongin the most reasonable one.

"I'm great. I'm having a cup of tea with me," Jinnie says, showing the cup of tea she's holding with both hands with her eyes forming two crescents as she smiles.

"And I'm good, thank you for asking," Chan says with his dimpled smile.

"I'm not asking you, Chris," Jeongin jokes.

Chan presses his lips together until they form a thin line and lets out air through his nostrils with his eyes closed while Jinnie is giggling.

"How was the recital going?" Jinnie asks.

"It went well," Jeongin answers.

Honestly, everything went so well, he's still playing piano as always and has shows to do but something about it makes him feel a little distressed that he feels the need to shift the talk.

"Well, we're not watching Chris' weird movie tonight—"

"It's not weird," Chan groans in disagreement and a glare aimed at him.

Jeongin refuses to correct his earlier remark and continues, "So what we're going to do tonight?"

Truthfully, Jeongin really needs the distraction tonight and he doesn't mind at all even if it means he has to endure three hours of watching a movie he can't understand, plot or language-wise.

"I have an announcement," Chan says.

"What kind of announcement?" Jinnie curiously asks with her eyes comically widening.

Chan swivels his chair to the side and plays with a stress ball in his hand, "I can't say anything yet until everyone gets here," he says.

Jeongin groans as he reclines on his chair and covers his face, knowing that it'll take only God knows how long until the last person finally comes online.

"In that case, I'll get myself a can of soda first," he says to everyone, then gets up from the chair.

When he returns to his room, Jeongin notices that the fourth person has joined the video call. Actually, he can hear it even before he enters the room from his babble.

"I know you guys have been waiting for me. No need to get that excited!" Han says, acting like he didn't just make everyone wait for him as usual.

-

Han is trapped in his own head like usual, arranging words in his head to make good lyrics for the track he made last night. He pictures those words in his head as he hums the melody to himself and then jots them down in his notebook.

He puts the headphones on again to hear the track once more, singing the lyrics to fit the melodies and only realizing that his mom is calling for him once she appears in front of him.

Disoriented, Han sits up on the bed and puts his headphones down, "What's wrong?"

"I've been calling you for dinner!" His mother scolds him.

He lets out a chuckle and takes his headphones off altogether, "But it's only five," he says.

His mother must have been so used to seeing him in his room and unaware of the time.

"I put the dinner in the oven," she informs with a dramatic head shake before exiting his room.

Is it dinner time already? He looks around for his phone on the bed, he's sure it's somewhere in there. He's flinging the duvet and then there's the sound of his phone falling onto the floor.

"Owh?!" He gasps, covering his small mouth with his hand.

Han rushes to the other side of the bedroom and picks it up, fortunately, his phone doesn't crack or break, but the time...

"Oh??!" He gasps again in a rather panicky tone.

It's almost 9, he's late for the video call again. He rushes to his laptop and it won't turn on because it runs out of battery.

"Ugh!" He groans as he struggles to plug it in the first time and groans again as he plops onto his chair.

It's always like this, losing track of time when he starts working on something. He remembers it was only four when he started writing his lyrics and now it's almost 9 pm.

It's like the laptop knows he's in a hurry it decides to take more time to boot and Han nervously taps his fingers against the desk, knowing that he makes his friends wait for him for the umpteenth time.

His fingers are typing as fast as they can to log in to his account but it takes him another moment to load the video call.

"Work faster you piece of a—"

"Welp. There he is!" Chan exclaims, looking annoyed but relieved at the same time.

"Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence," Jeongin says with the right amount of sarcasm in his tone.

"Oh, hi, Han!" Jinnie says, being the most welcoming out of the three.

"I know you guys have been waiting for me. No need to be that excited!" Han playfully says. He knows they're upset and tries to lighten the mood.

In his defense, he didn't do it on purpose. It becomes a habit at this point and he knows everyone will eventually let it slide.

"I guess you've been busy working on your lyrics again, huh?" Jinnie asks, propping her hand under her chin.

"No, I was helping my mom fold the laundry," Han makes a joke out of his own life.

Unlike everyone else, Han is the only one who hasn't figured out yet what to do with his talent for producing music. He's been working on some tracks but that's about it.

"Anyway, what kind of weird movie are we going to watch tonight?" He asks, shifting the talk to something else.

Chan clicks his tongue and says, "Thank you for making it obvious that you didn't read the group chat."

"Well, I opened them but didn't read them like all cool people do," Han confidently says with a sly grin plastered on his face.

Despite the uncertainty of his career, Han thinks he's the coolest of them all and doesn't care if anyone thinks otherwise. He's funny, and he's the mood-maker of the group but in all honesty, he's just being his authentic self 24/7.

"Okay, now since we're all here..." Chan says, sitting upright in his seat.

"Oh, so we're not watching a movie tonight," Han says in utter confusion, this is why he shouldn't be late so he won't miss out on a lot of things.

"Just shh..." Jeongin hushes him with a finger in front of his jutted lips.

"You're not like... dying, right?" Han hesitantly asks because Chan puts on a serious face, "It's cause you look so pale..."

"I've always been pale. What are you talking about?" Chan grumbles in disbelief, not accepting the fact that his pale skin makes him look like he's dying to him.

"Hannie!" Jinnie sharply calls his name, that is her way of sparing herself from using profanities

"I told you to just shh..." Jeongin scolds him more.

"Okay, okay, I'll shut up," Han says with both hands raised in defeat.

"Anyway," Chan reels the conversation back to the main thing and claps his hands together to get everyone's attention, "I need you guys to get days off for a week at the beginning of next month."

"But why?" Jeongin asks.

"Jinnie, Jeongin, I give you guys a month of forewarning so there's no reason you can't do it," Chan explains, not taking any excuses.

"And you're not concerned about me?" Han asks, feeling left out.

"That's because I know you're always available," Chan shortly answers.

"I need to ask permission from my mom!"

"To do what?" Chan squints his eyes at him.

"Permission to go on a road trip with you guys," he innocently answers.

"You're not some 12-year-old going on a school field trip," Jeongin reminds him that he won't be needing that.

"Oh, yeah, okay," Han meekly says with a nonchalant shrug.

"Well, that means I only need to finish some of my drawings early," Jinnie calmly says.

Chan smiles at her through the camera, "I know you can do it," he sweetly says.

"Thank you, Chris," Jinnie says with a smile.

"Wait, wait, you haven't answered my question," Jeongin interrupts the tender moment between the two, "Why?"

Chan sucks air through his teeth and stretches his arms out, not sure if he's trying to show off his muscular arms or just wanted to stretch them out.

"Because we're going on a road trip!" He announces in a cheery tone.

Jinnie grins in reaction and then claps her hands in excitement, "That sounds fun!"

"Where are we going?" Jeongin further asks.

"I don't want to spoil it yet. It's a surprise," Chan replies.

"I doubt that it'll be a good surprise," Han says just to annoy Chan.

"Just trust me on this!" Chan remarks with a confident smile.

"I just can't wait to spend time with you guys," Jinnie warmly says, being not shy to show her excitement which makes Chan get a little flustered.

"For the rest of this month we'll stop the weekly video meeting," Chan comes with a shocking announcement.

It's the only way they can hang out with each other and knowing that they won't meet until further notice kind of bummed him out.

"Why? Why? Why?" Han repeatedly asks like a parrot.

"So you guys can sort things out," Chan explains, "and Jinnie needs time to finish the drawings, right?"

"Yeah, but..." Jinnie looks a little taken aback too, "I'm sad that we'll not be hanging out for weeks."

"But we'll meet again," Chan assures her.

He clasps his hands in front of him and goes into serious mode once more, "I need you guys to gather at Jinnie's on the first day of July and I'll pick you up there," he informs.

Jinnie nods

"What should we pack?" Jinnie asks, even getting her notes ready to write them down.

"Pack clothes for a week, swimsuits, sunblock, hiking shoes..." Chan lists various things.

"Hiking shoes?" Han gasps, "I'm not going then."

"Even better," Jeongin lightly comments.

"Any more questions?" Chan asks everyone.

Han raises his hand even though he's not in a class, "How's your little sister doing?"

This is where Chan gets a little more serious, he hisses and then says, "I'm not taking any more questions then."

"Why are you so against us dating?" Han pokes fun at him, knowing that he doesn't like it, especially when he asks about his sister.

"Wouldn't it be nice if we become in-laws? We can be brothers for real!" Han annoys him more.

"I'm going to say this once and for all, I don't want to become in-laws with any of you," Chan firmly remarks and then crosses his big arms together.

"So that means you're okay with us dating..." Han relentlessly annoys him with a smirk dance on his face.

Jeongin drops his head into his hands and shakes his head witnessing the interaction while Jinnie is quietly giggling with her cup of tea in hand.

"How am I going to survive not seeing you guys for weeks?" Jinnie sadly says with a pout.

"Not me. I'll manage," Jeongin coyly says, reclining on his seat while playing with his hair.

"We'll see each other soon," Han assures her this time.

Jinnie smiles and cups her cheeks with both hands, "I can't wait to see you all," she says.

There's a moment of silence but the comfortable kind and not conjure any questions, everyone lets it go on for another moment before it gets to the time to end the video meeting.

"See you guys soon," Jinnie says, blowing air kisses through the camera.

"See you guys. Don't miss me," Han says with a sly grin on his face.

"There's no being late," Chan warns a specific someone.

"Jeongin, don't be late!" Han averts the blame to Jeongin.

Jeongin shakes his head again and raises his hand at everyone, "Bye, everyone!"

"See you guys in a few weeks," Chan says, waving his hands close to the camera then ends the video meeting.

-

A FEW WEEKS LATER

When you asked Chan if you could tag along on their road trip, he said no for what you guessed these two reasons: one, he hates seeing you around the boys and two, he hates for you to see him act around the girl he likes.

But, of course, in the end, he said yes for one solid reason: because you're his sister and he can't say no to you.

It's so obvious that Chan is nervous and you guess it's because he's going to meet the friends he hasn't met in weeks and more importantly, a certain someone that he secretly misses but can't tell.

As Chan's little sister, you notice these kinds of things, the change of attitude or how he gets nervous all of a sudden.

"Unclench your jaws, Chris," you remind him.

"I'm not—" he stops himself from talking and does as you told him, unclenching his jaws.

He may have unclenched his jaws but now his shoulders tense up. You take matters into your own hands and push his shoulder down.

"You're way too nervous to see a friend," you poke fun at him.

"Shut up!" He spews out and you know it's coming out of his nervous system.

Everyone knows that Chan likes Jinnie and he's always been for only God knows how long, you guess you're not the only one annoyed by the fact that they're not dating yet because they're just so perfect for each other.

"Okay, shutting up now," you say, making a gesture of zipping your lips together to not let the scary mad Chan come out.

The car makes a turn toward an apartment building and Chan parked it next to the entrance. It seems like Jinnie has been waiting for his arrival, she comes rushing down the stairs from the second floor where her apartment is.

"Oh, my God! Chris!!!" She excitedly comes up to him with open arms

Chan is obviously as excited to see her and catches her right into his arms, he even lifts her off the ground for a moment and gives her a spin.

They're so stinking cute that you can't help but smile watching them through the rearview mirror.

"Good to see you!" She says once he puts her down.

"Good to see you too," Chan says back while holding her hands in his.

When you deem that it's the right moment to insert yourself into the scene, you get out of the car and slowly make an entrance.

They're so immersed in each other that you hesitate to burst their cute little bubble.

"Hi!" You awkwardly wave your hand at her.

Jinnie's face lights up when she sees you, "Oh, hi! Long time no see!"

You come up to her to exchange a hug with her, "Long time no see, indeed."

The fact that she, possibly, would become your sister-in-law doesn't bother you at all, Jinnie is as perfect as one can be. She's beautiful and kind, the nicest human you've ever known, you couldn't be happier if that becomes true.

"I hope you don't mind that I brought her along," Chan says, flashing a thin smile at you.

You shoot him a side eye in return and stay by Jinnie's side.

"Are you kidding? I'm happy that I have a girl companion," she says, pulling you close to her side and squeezing on your shoulder.

"Jinnie, do you mind if I use your bathroom?" You ask, getting the urge to pee all of a sudden.

"Not at all. I'll take you—"

"That's okay. I know where to go," you kindly refuse her help to show you where her bathroom is.

That way, you can give them another moment to catch up with each other. As you climb the stairs to Jinnie's apartment, you see how Chan is grinning from ear to ear and it seems like it will stay like that until the road trip ends. Maybe that's also another reason why he agreed to let you join the road trip, Chan needs a good wingman by his side.

-

The moment he got out of the taxi, Han immediately thanked Jeongin non-stop.

"Thank you Yang Jeongin," he says, calling Jeongin by his full name.

"If you didn't pick me up, I'd be dead late," he grumbles, lowering his voice as he's a bit ashamed to admit it.

"I just knew you'd be late," Jeongin says while hoisting the strap of his backpack higher on his shoulder.

Han hurriedly puts on a smile to greet his friends, acting like he almost got here late for the road trip. He sees his two friends, Chan and Jinnie putting their stuff in the back of the car.

"Rejoice everyone. Your favorite boy is here!" Han announces his arrival while walking in big, confident strides.

Chan and Jeongin just leer at him and Jinnie is the only one giving him a proper welcome.

"It's so nice that everyone's here!" She exclaims, smiling even brighter than the scintillating sun.

She gathers everyone into a circle and puts her arms around Han and Chan's shoulders.

"I missed you guys," Jinnie says, jumping on her feet like a child. She really is the special glue that sticks them all together.

Deep down, everyone feels the same way, Han must say it feels good to reunite with them, it evokes the same feeling of coming home. They're huddling together for a big group hug, relishing that longing for each other.

Han breaks away first to take the last empty spot on the trunk for his backpack, "Dibs!"

Chan and Jeongin groan in unison but at the same time, not surprised to see this display of childish behavior from Han. Chan continues organizing everyone's stuff in the trunk with Jeongin's help while Han comes around the car.

"I'm riding shotgun!" Han shouts, calling dibs for the passenger's seat.

Jinnie appears from behind the car, "I think Chan's sister will ride shotgun," she informs.

Han thinks he misheard her, he lingers by the car door and turns to ask her, "Who?"

"Chan's sister, she's coming with us for the— oh, there she is!" Jinnie points at the stairs.

Han's eyes are following where she's pointing and turns his head that way.

"Oh, everyone's here!" You say as you look at everyone from the top of the stairs.

Time suddenly goes so slowly as you descend the stairs, softly smiling as the gust of wind blows your way, sending your hair flying, and with the sun shining down at you, it creates a halo around your head.

Jeongin accidentally bumps him as he opens the car door, "sorry," he shortly says.

Han is completely gobsmacked to care, his eyes just can't stop following you even after you arrive at the base of the stairs and walk up to the car.

"I think it's true," Han foolishly says with a gaping mouth.

"Huh? What?" Jeongin asks in confusion.

"When the love is real... it finds a way," Han dramatically sighs with eyes big and wide like seeing something so wondrous.

Jeongin gives him the side eyes, but he decides to ignore him and gets into the car.

"I'm going to lock my apartment first," Jinnie informs, going up the stairs to her apartment.

"Hi, Han," you greet him.

Han tries not to crumble hearing you calling his name and instead of answering, he awkwardly raises his hand at you with a stupid grin on his face.

"Are you sitting in the front?" You ask.

Han's brain is not well functioning yet and it takes more time for him to compute a word.

"Well, then I'm going to take my bag," you say, stepping forward and getting in between him and the car door to take your bag from the passenger's seat.

The smell of your perfume is sweet and soft yet it's enough to get him intoxicated, he wants more of it. He suddenly has no desire to ride a shotgun and arranges a new plan in his head.

He rushes to the back of the car and yanks at Jeongin's jacket, "Jeongin, get in the backseat!"

"What?" He asks in utter confusion.

"Get in the backseat! Hurry!" He urges him, opening the seat to the back so he can move.

Doesn't want to deal with him, Jeongin reluctantly moves to the back as requested and Han sets the seat right back up, then keeps the car door open for you.

"Get in," Han says to you.

"Oh, thank you," you mutter, carrying your bag in one hand as you get in.

Noticing Jeongin in the backseat, you smile and greet him, "Hi!"

"Hi," Jeongin sheepishly says to you.

Han sees that Jinnie has returned from locking her apartment and hurriedly opens the car door for her, "You can sit in the front, Jinnie."

Jinnie looks at him, perplexed, "I thought you are..."

He can't hear the rest of what she's saying as he gets into the car and sits next to you.

"I hope it's okay that I tag along for the road trip," you say, putting your bag on your lap.

Han realizes that he should get his act together and forces his brain to function, "It's more than okay," he says with a smile.

This road trip turns into a chance of a lifetime for him. What could be more fun than being stuck in a moving vehicle with a girl he likes?

Chan gets into the driver's side, sighing as he's exhausted from arranging the trunk, and puts the keys into the ignition.

Oh, fuck, Han forget about the part that her brother is in the mentioned moving vehicle too, and drives it. Now, his sense of protection is heightened after seeing you sitting next to him.

"What's with this seat arrangement?" He asks, glaring at Han through the rearview mirror.

He innocently shrugs while Jeongin is staying quiet in the backseat by himself, enjoying the spacious seat for himself.

Jinnie is the last to enter the car and lets out a delighted sigh once she buckles her seat belt. She then looks around at the people in the back and asks, "Everyone is ready to go?"

In response to her question, Jeongin raises a thumbs-up while Han is weakly cheering with his fists in the air and you're laughing at him.

Jinnie then turns her head at Chan and says, "Let's go!"

And just like that, the road trip begins.

-

Everyone else thinks that Han's liking toward you is just a joke and he does that as a way to annoy Chan. Unfortunately, it's not.

He admits that at first, he didn't think of you that way. The very first time he received the information that Chan has a sister, he thinks of you not more than that, a younger sister of his friend.

That night Chan invited everyone to the bar to celebrate his birthday and you've recently turned 21 that year which is why your brother finally took you along with him to hang out with his friends for the first time and he believes that was when things take a different turn.

Han met you once, briefly at Chan's graduation and you've just entered college at that time. When he met you again that night, he almost couldn't recognize you because you've grown so much.

You were just a young girl when he met you for the first time and that night, he saw that girl had flourished into a grown woman and attracted him immediately.

He was so deeply mesmerized by you that he just stared at you the whole night that Jeongin had to constantly snap him out of his head.

The one moment that got him enamored is when you decided to take your jacket off that night and revealed the white camisole you wore that night, he could tell you were wearing nothing underneath because your nipples were poking through the silky fabric. He remembers watching you enjoy the night and dancing your heart out with Jinnie the whole night.

Han couldn't get you out of his head ever since, he grew some sort of infatuation with you, and he followed you on your social media.

When he feels bold enough, he slides into your DMs and asks how you're doing. Chan doesn't know and the fact that he's still oblivious about it means that you don't mention it to him and that's good, it spares him from his doom coming sooner than everyone else's.

Now that he gets to see you in person, sitting side by side when all he could do was just admire you through the pictures you posted. It feels a little surreal that he has to pinch himself a few times to convince him that you're real.

Since Chan is busy talking with Jinnie in the front, he takes it as an opportunity to talk with you because he's wasted three hours secretly staring at you.

"So, how are you doing?" He awkwardly asks while still getting used to sitting next to you.

"I'm doing great," you shortly answer, placing your hand on the space between you and him.

"I heard you're working at the magazine now?" He asks, making it sounds like he heard it from Chan but he actually knew it from your Instagram post.

"Yes, I am," you answer with a sheepish smile.

"I think that's great!" He praises and tries to keep his excitement in check.

"I'm just a copy editor for now. I don't think it's that great," you sheepishly say.

"No, I think that's great," Han feels the need to convince you so he seeks validation from a third party, "Right, Jeongin?"

Jeongin scratches his chin and stifles a nod, "Yeah. That's great!"

"Thank you," you mutter with a shy smile and tuck your hair behind your ear, "How about you? How are you doing?

"Good," he shortly answers but he knows you need more from his answer, "I've been working on a few tracks."

When it comes to you, Han doesn't feel like the coolest person but the objective remains the same, he wants to impress you.

"And I worked on that thing," he scratches his head while considering whether it's right to share it with you.

You tuck your hair behind your ear and look at him, "Worked on what?"

"I made this jingle for an ad," he hesitantly shares.

You shift your body toward him and ask further, "Do I know this ad or...?"

Seeing that you're genuinely curious about it, Han gains a little confidence to share more.

"It's for a shaving cream commercial and it goes like this..." Han starts humming the melody and serenading it to you.

"Didn't you do that thing last year though?" Jeongin interrupts his serenading with a truth bomb.

Han looks over his shoulder and glares at him, making Jeongin see his displeased expression that he's not a great wingman at the moment.

"Yeah, but..." he turns his body more to look at him but can't find something to defend himself.

"I did that," he continues as his confidence deflates in each passing second, "nonetheless."

"Everyone," Jinnie says from the front, "We're going to stop for gas."

Even Jinnie makes a better wingman than Jeongin and she's clueless about what happened in the back earlier.

"Oh, great timing! I need to go to the bathroom," you exclaim, gathering your hair to put it into a ponytail.

This is not a good start, he can tell that you're not impressed at all and far from attracted to him. He consoles himself with snacks, eating them right outside the convenience store.

"I blew that up," he sighs, then shoves chips into his mouth.

"That's because," Jeongin says, then pausing to take another sip of his soda, "you keep staring at her like a creep."

Han elbows his side quite hard that Jeongin yelps, "and you didn't help at all," he grumbles with his cheeks full of food.

"You're hopeless," Jeongin easily replies and steals some chips from Han.

"And you didn't think that's why I need the help?" Han grumbles again and shoves more chips into his mouth.

Jeongin coyly shrugs as he drains his can of soda empty then proceeds to crumple it and toss it into the trash bin.

"Hey, what are you guys having?" You appear from the corner along with Jinnie.

"Where's Chris?" Jinnie asks while fixing her hair.

"He's inside," Jeongin points to the convenience store.

Han quickly swallows everything in his mouth and brushes the crumbs on the front of his shirt, "Do you want some?" He offers you his bag of chips.

"Do you have something sweet with you?" You ask.

"I do, I do," he eagerly answers, rummaging through the bag of snacks he bought and pulling out a pack of strawberry jellies, "I think you'll like this."

"Oh, no, I'm allergic to strawberries," you inform.

Han quickly pulls out another pack of snacks from the plastic bag, "How about this?"

You take it from him and delightfully gasp, "Oh, I love these."

Chan comes out with Jinnie carrying packs of drinks for everyone and without warning, he tosses the car keys at Jeongin, fortunately, he has a good reflex and catches it right into his hand.

"Your turn to drive," Chan says to Jeongin.

Jeongin doesn't say anything else but walks up to the car with everyone following him from the back.

Han opens the car door for you when Chan grabs your hand and stops you on the track, "You ride shotgun."

"Yes, sir!" You also obey without complaint.

"And you," Chan points at Han, "Get on the backseat!"

Han frowns that Chan purposely separates the two of you and reluctantly goes to sit by himself in the back while Chan and Jinnie sit in the middle.

From the back of the car, Han can only watch you share the pack of chocolate maltesers with Jeongin in the front.

-

After four hours of driving, the car stops for dinner and everyone gets so quiet once the food arrives.

Chan makes sure everyone has finished so he can have all of their attention as he explains what the next plan is. Before you can ask for his dessert, he slides his plate towards you.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" He says.

Jeongin is mindlessly stirring his glass of soda with the straw but putting his attention on him meanwhile Han is slowly dissociating so Chan snaps his fingers right in front of his face to reel him back to reality.

Han swats his hand away and groans, "I'm listening, I'm listening."

"Okay, so, we're not going to continue to drive," Chan announces.

"Oh? We're sleeping somewhere for the night?" Jinnie asks, then dabs her mouth with a napkin, "And I need you guys to sleep early tonight because—"

"Because of what?" Han asks as he lazily brushes his hair to the back.

Chan sighs because Han cuts him off instead of letting him continue talking, "Because we have to leave early tomorrow morning."

"And where are we going?" You ask, sliding the plate back to him. Chan glares at you for leaving a small piece of dessert for him and you grin at him in return.

"Let me guess, surprise?" Han says with a mocking grin.

Chan scoops the last piece of cake into his mouth and ignoring Han's insinuation, he has a way to get back to him.

"Who voted for Han to pay the bill?" He says with his hand already raised in the air and Jeongin is the next one to raise his hand.

"W-what? Why? Why me?" Han blabbers in a slight panic.

Everyone turns their heads at Jinnie and since two of his friends already voted for him, she follows the majority and hesitantly raises her hand.

"Sorry," she meekly mutters at Han.

When it comes to you, you hurriedly shake your head and refuse to be a part of their shenanigans. Chan intensely glares at you, pressuring you to also raise your hand.

"Please, leave me out of this," you plead.

Having no other way to make you do what he tells you to do, Chan grabs your hand and raises it in the air. He then triumphantly grins at Han until his dimples sunken into his cheeks.

"Everyone says 'Thank you, Han'!" He orders.

"Thank you, Han!" Everyone says in unison while Han is slumped on his seat, suddenly not looking drowsy anymore.

With the information gained from the restaurant staff, Chan easily found the motel a ten-minute drive away. Arrive there, he immediately goes to check in while everyone is getting their belonging from the trunk.

Without saying anything, Jeongin hands you a bag and you look at it for a moment until you realize that it's yours.

"Oh, thank you," you mutter.

You also take Chan's bag, it's so heavy and you bet he's taking his laptop and camera with him which only reminds you to be careful with it. Once he gets back with the room keys, you hurriedly hand him his bag.

"This one is for the ladies," Chan hands one of the keys to Jinnie.

"Got it," Jinnie says, linking her arm with you to start walking to your room.

Everyone is heading the same way since the boys are staying in the next room. You can't wait to lie down after spending more than ten hours sitting in the car.

"It seems like we're sharing the bed," Jinnie says, seeing there's only one bed in the room.

"Don't worry, I don't snore like my brother," you immediately remark as you throw yourself onto the bed and sigh in delight.

Jinnie laughs as she unpacks her bag, "Wait... Chris snores?"

You roll to the side and prop a hand under your head, "I thought you knew," you say.

"I've seen Chris sleeping but he didn't snore," Jinnie shares, taking clean clothes out of her bag.

"Of course," you talk to yourself, Chan wouldn't let his crush know about his sleeping habit especially something as bad as snoring.

"What's that?" Jinnie asks, hearing you mutter to yourself.

"I just remember I need to charge my phone," you lie, rolling over to the other side to rummage through your bag.

"Do you mind if I use the bathroom first?" Jinnie politely asks, holding her clothes close to her chest.

"Sure," you answer with your hand still groping around to look for your phone charger. Getting hopeless, you call for Jinnie as she's about to enter the bathroom.

"Hey, Jinnie, can I borrow your charger?"

She stops on her track and then puts her clothes on top of the dresser, "Sure," she says, going back to her bag to get it and give it to you.

"I think I dropped my phone in the car," she mutters as she looks through her bag.

"Oh, no," you mumble but an idea comes to mind.

"I can call Chris to help you find it," you offer, turning her misfortune into an opportunity to set them up.

"No, it's okay. It's probably under the seat of the car," she says but she looks worried.

"Are you even sure that you dropped it in the car?" You ask, making her doubt herself.

Jinnie looks concerned now that she clasps her hands together in front of her, "I don't want—"

Before she gets to finish her sentence, you hit call on Chan's number and he picks up on the third ring.

"What's up, baby sist?" He slurs his words, he's just as tired as everyone.

Without greeting him first, you talk straight into the phone, "Jinnie dropped her phone in the car. Can you help her find it?"

You hear rustles from the other end of the call and his tone changes all of a sudden, "Just need to get my car keys and I'll be on your door in a minute."

There's no need to plead or beg, you only need to mention Jinnie's name and he's ready to do anything, he'd probably move mountains for her too if she asked for it.

You hold the urge to laugh and calmly look at Jinnie, "He'll be here soon," you tell her.

"Oh, thank you," Jinnie says, canceling her plan to wash up and putting her sweater back on.

A few minutes later, the knocking comes on the door and Jinnie goes to open it. You peek from the side to watch the interaction.

"Heard you dropped your phone in the car," Chan says to her.

"Yeah, I hope I didn't disturb you," Jinnie says.

"Not at all," he immediately says.

Jinnie looks at you and you pretend to be busy looking at your phone, "Hey, I'm going out for a bit."

"Yeah, sure, take your time," you say with a smile then realize that you're not using the right tone.

"Hope you find your phone," you quickly add.

Jinnie is trailing behind Chan as they walk back to the parking lot and he hurriedly unlocks the car at the first sight of it.

"I'm sure it's somewhere in the middle seat," Jinnie says, opening the car door and going straight to feel the gap between the seats.

"I'll look from the other side," Chan says.

He walks around the car and looks from the other side, he turns on the flashlight from his phone and shines it under the seat. All he finds are candy wrappers and he knows who the culprit is.

"Let's get these seats up," he suggests, turning the lever to fold the seats and making it easier to search for the phone.

As they're busy looking for the phone, their heads meet in the middle, and bumps against each other. Chan reflexively reaches for Jinnie's head and rubs on it.

"I'm sorry," he says while giggling, "Are you okay?"

Jinnie can't answer as she's busy laughing and after taking a breath, she nods, "I'm okay."

"You know, it'll be much easier to call you," he says, coming up with a faster way to find the phone a little too late.

"Why didn't I think of that earlier?" Jinnie says, feeling embarrassed as she holds her hair from curtaining her face.

Chan looks for her number and presses the call buttons, he waits for the dialing tone while Jinnie looks around in the dark.

"Oh, I heard it!" She gasps.

The muffled ringtone comes from the back and Chan flips the seat to the front, discovering Jinnie's phone caught between the seats. With his long arm, Chan outstretches his arm to get it and hurriedly hands it to her.

"Thank God!" She sighs in relief and takes the phone from him.

Chan closes the car door and quickly locks it again, he checks by pulling at the car handle to know if it's locked for good.

"I was so scared that I dropped it somewhere else," Jinnie shares, clutching her phone close to her chest.

"I'm glad you found it," Chan says, smiling because he feels good knowing that he makes Jinnie happy.

"Thank you for helping, Chris," Jinnie sincerely says with a smile that is as soft as the moonlight.

Chan would do anything to see that smile on Jinnie's face again, he then looks away before it gets too intense.

"Don't mention it," he coyly says.

As they walk back to the rooms, their hands lightly grazing each other's, and on a nice, summer night like this, Chan feels tempted to hold her hand.

He looks down and her hand is right there, a grasp away from him. All he needs to do—

Jinnie draws her hands and crosses them together in front of her, "I'm so curious where you'll take us tomorrow," she says.

Chan clears his throat and shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"Trust me, you guys will like it," he confidently says, "especially you."

Jinnie looks at him with a bewildered expression, "Me?"

"Yeah," he nods and grins.

"That only makes me more excited for tomorrow," she says, hugging herself tighter as a gust of wind blows their way.

Jinnie stops right in front of your shared room, she looks at Chan who's standing on the door to his room, "Thanks once again, Chris."

"It's not a big deal," he says with a smile.

Jinnie knocks on the door and a while later, you open the door with your head wrapped in a towel, "Did you find it?"

"Yeah," she answers, showing you the phone in her hand.

"That's a relief!" You exclaim, then step to the side to let her in.

Jinnie looks at Chan for one last time and smiles, "Goodnight, Chris."

"Goodnight," he says back, and once Jinnie gets inside, his foolish smile drops from his face knowing that you're watching him.

"Get back inside. Lock the door and sleep!" He strictly orders.

"Yes, sir," you reply along with a salute.

You grab the handle of the door and take one more chance to poke fun at him.

"Goodnight, Chris," You try your best to copy Jinnie's soft tone of saying it and quickly close the door before Chan gets the chance to scold you.

-

When Chan said they needed to leave early the next day, Han didn't think it would require him to wake up at 6 in the morning.

He doesn't know how Chan did that because he was the last one to sleep but he also woke up the earliest and even brought breakfast with him when he came to the room.

"Your turn to drive today," Chan says, throwing the car keys and clanging against the floor as Han fails to catch them.

"Ugh..." he lets out an exhausted groan and picks them up from the floor.

Concerned with his state, Chan grabs his shoulder and squeezes, "You sure you can drive?"

Han knows that if he says no, then Chan will take the task from him and he doesn't want that, Chan already did so much. He's sure he's more tired than everyone.

"Yeah, I can drive," he assures him with a not-so-convincing smile.

The doubts linger in Chan's eyes, he gives him a pat on the back and then says, "You know what? I'll get you another cup of coffee!"

The sun is peeking from the horizon and slowly climbs its way out, the sunray hits his eyes as Han arrives at the parking lot.

He unlocks the car from a meter away and puts his bag in the trunk first before walking to the driver's side.

"Ugh..." he groans again with one hand on the handle of the car door.

The last person who drove was Jeongin and thanks to his long limbs, Han has to readjust the seat because his arms aren't long enough for the steering wheel.

He's yawning as he takes his phone out and connects it to the car stereo, at least, being a driver means he has full control over the music.

"Morning," Jinnie cheerily says, with a smile that shines brighter than the morning sun.

Something about her smile that makes him can't help but smile back.

"Morning," he says back, "Do you need help with the bag?"

"It's okay. I'll do it myself," She says, heading to the back of the car.

Not long after, Chan comes carrying bags on each shoulder but looking unbothered by them, he ends up helping Jinnie with her bag. Jeongin comes next, handing his bag to Chan before getting into the car and sitting in the back.

Han is busy scrolling his phone to compile a playlist for the trip to realize that everyone is already getting in except for one person.

He looks to the back and sees Chan sitting in the middle with Jinnie so that means...

"I have your coffee with me," you say, climbing into the passenger's side.

He turns his head to the back to check if Chan approves of this seating arrangement but he's already snuggled up in his hoodie to sleep.

"Americano, right?" You ask, handing the cup of coffee to him.

"Oh?" Han looks at you and then at the coffee.

The second he realizes that you're waiting for him, he hurriedly gets it from you, "Thank you!"

Sensing that the coffee is hot, he carefully puts it into the cup holder and turns on the car engine. He waits until you're buckled in to start driving.

"So, where are we going?" He asks in utter confusion.

You let out a chuckle thinking that he's joking and Han chuckles as well, maybe it is a joke that he didn't ask Chan where to go before he started driving.

"Chris said you only need to follow the GPS," you inform.

"Oh, yeah, that's right," he feels embarrassed to ask and even more embarrassed to say that he is not good at multitasking.

It feels as if you read his mind, you look at him and say, "Don't worry. I'm a good navigator."

The cool morning air is so refreshing that Han doesn't feel sleepy anymore and with every sip of coffee, he feels more awake than ever.

He looks through the rearview mirror and sees that everyone in the back is sleeping so that means only you and him are awake in the car.

"Oh, wow, look at that," You sigh at the view of the sun rising on a hill, "It's beautiful!"

Han briefly glances away from the road to see it but the view he sees is of you and your hair flying around your face basking in the soft glow of the morning sun.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," he mutters and looks back at the road.

He's only an hour away from the destination but he likes this scene, the view and the road ahead of him, the person sitting next to him, also the faint music that plays through the car stereo. He wants to stay in it for a little longer.

"I love this song!" You exclaim out of the blue as the playlist plays a new song.

Han recognizes the song right away because it's coming from his playlist and it's one of his favorites.

"You know this song?"

"The Beatles, right?"

"Yes."

"It's in one of the playlists you sent me," you tell him.

The playlist is Han's love language. When he likes someone, instead of flowers or chocolate, he compiles a playlist of songs that reminds him of that person and gifts it to them.

When he sent them to you, Han isn't that confident that you will heartily listen to them because it's just a playlist of songs and you'd barely see the romantic gesture behind it.

"I'd like to be under the sea..." you start singing along to the song.

"In an octopus's garden in the shade..." Han joins in on the second line while keeping his eyes on the road.

"He'd let us in, knows where we've been. In his octopus's garden in the shade..." Together you sing the rest of the verse while smiling as the sun is getting higher in the sky.

"In an octopus's garden with you... In an octopus's garden with you..."

The GPS says the destination is only ten minutes away and it's directing him to turn onto the small road with nothing but trees that line up on each side.

"Are we going the right way?" Han asks you in a slight panic, not seeing any road signs.

You check the GPS and turn to look at him, "You're going the right way, yeah," you confirm.

Han bends down to see if there's any sign of life or if Chan accidentally puts the wrong address into the GPS.

"I'll wake my brother," you offer, turning around in your seat and outstretching your arm to reach Chan who's still sleeping.

You manage to grab the sleeve of his hoodie and yank at it, "Chris, wake up!"

Instead of Chan, Jinnie is the one who answers your call, "Mmh, are we there yet?" She asks.

"We're not sure," you answer and yank harder at Chan's hoodie.

Jinnie notices you need the help, she places her hand on Chan's arm and gently shakes him awake, "Chris?"

On the second try, Chan finally wakes up to Jinnie's call and you roll your eyes because it's getting ridiculous now that he recognizes her voice well instead of his sister.

Han decides to pull over to the side of the road and turns his head around, "are we going to the right place?"

Chan pulls down his hoodie and quickly brushes his curls to the back, he closes his eyes for a moment to adjust them to the light.

One glance at the GPS and he slumps back on his seat, "Yes, it's right," he slurs his words.

"Why am I not seeing anything else but trees?" Han hesitates but keeps driving anyway.

"Just keep going," Chan mumbles, getting a bottle of water and drinking it.

A moment later, Han's doubt is answered as a sign appears in front of him and it says that the campsite is 100 meters away.

"Oh, my God!" Jinnie loudly gasps, making everyone in the car startle in surprise, including Jeongin who's just woken up from his nap.

She looks at Chan with eyes widening and sparkling, "We're going camping?"

With a stupid grin on his face, Chan answers, "Yes."

-

While the boys are busy setting up the big tent, you and Jinnie are making sandwiches for lunch. Jinnie does most of the work while all you do is unwrapping the cheese singles and preparing the loaf of bread.

This is one of those moments that makes you think how can someone be this perfect? Jinnie is beautiful, smart, kind, and patient, she's great at drawing and now, you find out she's good at cooking too.

"What can't you do? Really?" You praise in awe as she meticulously arranges the ingredients from the vegetables to the condiments.

She lets out a shy chuckle in reaction and doesn't let it get to her head, she's concentrating hard on putting everything together without making a mess.

"You're an only child, right?" You curiously ask.

Jinnie wraps each sandwich with a food wrapper and does it so meticulously as if she's wrapping a gift, "Yes, I am."

"Would you like a younger sister?" You jokingly say.

She smiles at you and hands you the first sandwich she wrapped, "I already think of you as a younger sister," she says.

You grin at that and put the wrapped sandwich into the basket, "We should make it official then," you teasingly say.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"You know... you can be my sister-in-law," you coyly say while paying attention to her reaction.

Jinnie shakes her head in disbelief and shyly laughs, "You silly!"

It's too obvious for her to miss it, right? She should have known that you're hinting at something and it's your way to cajole her to open up but in the end, you're always the one left puzzled by the mystery of why Jinnie and Chan's ship is not sailing yet.

The peaceful nature sounds are interrupted by the sound of Chan hammering the spike to pin down the tent while Jeongin is setting the canopy. He pauses once he notices that you're struggling to carry the cooler box by yourself. He rushes to get it from you and puts it down next to the tent.

As a form of gratitude, you grab a can of soda from the cooler and hand it to him, "Here!"

Jeongin softly smiles and it's enough to make his dimples appear on both of his cheeks, "Thanks!"

"Baby sist, I want one too!" Chan grumbles as he sits on the ground, also exhausted from setting the tent.

It's fine when he called you that ten years ago but as you grow older, he should know that you've outgrown that pet name. You let it slide because his friends got used to hearing him calling you that around them.

"Catch!" You warn before tossing it his way and he catches it right in his hand.

Jinnie comes not long after, carrying the sandwiches along with some snacks on the side, "Lunch is ready!" She announces, putting everything on the table.

Han hurriedly carries more folded chairs and arranges them around the table. Everyone stops working to huddle around the table for lunch.

"Is it done?" Jinnie asks while distributing the sandwiches around.

"Yeah, we just need to put the mat and sleeping bags inside but we can do it later," Chan answers, ripping through the wrapper and taking a hearty bite.

Despite it being the beginning of summer, there are only two other campers on the site. But that's a good thing, it's not crowded and it won't spoil the serene, relaxing experience of camping.

The lunch feels so rewarding, especially to those who worked on the tent and everyone gets so quiet after. You and Jinnie work together to gather the trash and put it into a plastic bag.

"So... what now?" Jeongin asks, glancing his eyes from side to side.

Chan crumples the empty can in his hand and puts it into the trash bag, "We're resting for now and we'll go hiking in an hour."

"Hiking?" Han asks in panic, not in favor of the idea.

"I told you to bring hiking boots for one specific reason," Chan explains, putting his hat backward and then reclining on his seat.

Han slumps on his seat and makes those high-pitched groans while flailing his arms in the air.

To avoid the harsh sunlight, the hike starts a little after three and the boys are tasked to carry a backpack full of snacks, water, and clean clothes.

The forest hums with life as the five of you walk the trail with the sun breaks through the cracks, lighting up the dirt path ahead, decorated with outgrown roots, wildflowers, and fallen leaves that crunch beneath your feet.

You're gazing up at the canopy, searching for the birds that sing sweetly against the soft sound of the wind whistling between the leaves.

Chan leads the way and once in a while, he looks back to check if anyone needs a break. Seeing that everyone needs a break, he stops on his track and turns around.

"Let's have a quick break!" He announces to everyone, then uncaps a bottle of water to hand it to you.

"Thank you," you mutter.

You lean back against the tree and reorganize your breath to finally have a long sip of water that quench your thirst.

"Is it still far?" Jinnie asks, taking a new bottle of water from Han's backpack.

Chan swallows his water and wipes his lips after, "About half an hour more of hiking."

Han takes off the plaid shirt he's wearing and hangs it on one shoulder, "And how long have we been hiking?"

Chan looks at his smartwatch to be able to answer him, "About 25 minutes."

"Fuck!" Han curses, scaring away the small animals hiding between the bushes, "Why does it feel like we've been walking for hours?"

"That's just you," Jeongin sneers, drinking his water like he's shooting an advertisement video.

"It's going to be worth it, I swear," Chan convinces, brushing his hair to the back before putting his hat back on.

Hanging on to his words, everyone continues the hike, following Chan's lead while enjoying the greenery. Jeongin catches squirrels running in between tree trunks.

"Han, say hi to your friends!" He says to Han.

Funny that Han decides to play along with it, "Furry babies, hi!"

Chan notices that you're getting exhausted as beads of sweat roll down your neck, "Here! Hold the back of my t-shirt!"

You don't see why it would help you walk, "Why should I?" You ask in utter confusion.

He grabs your hands and makes you hold each side of his t-shirt, dragging you along with him as he tirelessly keeps following the trail.

"I swear to God if it isn't worth it like you said..." you grumble as you feel every muscle in your legs strained and screaming in pain, and your mouth is dry from you constantly panting, running out of breath.

The scenery slightly changes the further you walk, there are no more dead leaves on the path and the rich earthy smell is soon replaced by water-saturated air.

"Oi, look!" Chan taps your hand and then points at the view ahead of him.

Getting a glimpse of what lies ahead, you walk past Chan to discover a view that is too beautiful for your eyes to comprehend.

A white, frothy cascade of water falls into a plunge pool with mist billowing out in soft clouds, creating a mystical atmosphere but when the sun hits and refracts the lights, a rainbow appears.

It's a waterfall, a majestic one.

"Be careful! It's slippery!" Chan shouts, watching you walk down the rocky outcroppings. He knows that there's no stopping you and you can't hear him anyway.

Han dashes after you with the backpack bouncing on his back, trailing after you like a puppy.

"I was right to trust you," Jinnie stands by his side and places a hand on Chan's shoulder, "It's worth the one hour of hike."

Jinnie shoots him a warm smile that makes Chan's inside melt and turns into jelly and in response to that, Chan unknowingly grins at her, the kind that shows how much of a fool he is for her.

Unbeknownst to him, Jeongin has been quietly watching this interaction, including the shit-eating grin Chan has on his face.

"You're pathetic," Jeongin says to him once Jinnie leaves.

"Hey!" He yells in disagreement but Jeongin ignores him and walks away.

Taking a little rest from the hiking, Chan sits on the sun-baked rocks while admiring the waterfall and the serene surroundings.

"This is a beautiful place to tell someone your feelings," Jeongin says, taking out a can of soda from his backpack.

Chan scoffs and plays dumb, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on!" Jeongin groans and subtly rolls his eyes at him.

"We all know you have feelings for someone," he pauses to gesture at the figure standing on the rocky perch, "There she is!"

This proves two things, their years of friendship and that Jeongin always observes, either way, he feels so caught by his own ineptness.

Worse, Chan decides to keep playing dumb and looks away even though it's too late for him to do that, there's no way he can escape Jeongin's observant eyes.

"Why-why should I..." he scratches his head in a slight panic.

"Just tell her how you feel," Jeongin says, "I think she feels the same thing for you."

At first, Chan wants to keep it to himself but since Jeongin knows already and it's tiring to have to keep hiding, he decides to tell him.

"It's hard," he openly admits with a heavy sigh, "We've been close friends for too long that I can't tell the difference anymore."

It feels so good that Chan is finally able to get that out of this chest and he knows he can trust Jeongin to keep it between them.

"And she's just... she's just perfect," Chan says with a hopeless sigh, he picks up a pebble and throws it into the water, "and I don't want to lose my good friend."

Jeongin leans back by propping his hands behind him and lets out a sigh, "It doesn't matter if the guy is perfect or the girl is perfect, as long as they're perfect for each other," he eloquently remarks.

"Wait, I think I heard that somewhere before," Chan's forehead wrinkles as he rakes his brain to recall where he heard this line before.

All of a sudden, Jeongin punches him in the arm, "It's from your favorite movie. Good Will Hunting!"

"Oh?!" Chan loudly gasps, it feels like a crime that he doesn't recognize the quote taken from his favorite movie.

"At this point, Han will beat you up to it."

"What?"

"He'll date your sister faster than you get to date Jinnie," Jeongin says with sheer indignation.

Chan's eyes dart at you and Han talking under the shade of a tree that stoops so low it's almost touching the surface of the water.

"Ugh, no, that can't happen!" He says in disgust.

"I bet he's serenading your sister with the jingle he made, again," Jeongin mumbles.

At the same time, Jeongin and Chan look at each other and start singing the jingle together, surprising themselves by how well they memorized it.

"Are you guys talking about me?" Jinnie jokingly asks as she walks by.

They immediately shut up and Chan turns his head away even though his eyes are searching for her, demanding her to always be in his sight.

"Are we waiting for Christmas to swim or what?" Han shouts, fussing like a child with his hands planted on each side of his waist.

-

Han once thought that if someone ever gets to see your body, he believes they'd turn to stone and that's because he thinks no one can handle that much magnetism and sex appeal.

Today, he gets to put that notion to a test even though he's risking himself to the possibility of getting petrified. He tries to keep his cool as you stand not far from him, tugging the hem of your t-shirt and then pulling it over your head, revealing the top half of the swimsuit you're wearing underneath.

So far, he still finds himself breathing and able to move his limbs but let's see when— he holds his breath as you unbutton your denim shorts and pull it down, slightly bending down to get it off your legs.

His eyes immediately travel down your body, admiring every curve of your body as you bask in the warm sunlight and the tiny droplets of water land on your skin.

You flip your hair to the back and slip your fingers under the strap to adjust it on your shoulder, his breath hitches as you pull it and let it slap against your skin.

Now, he's petrified. He knows he shouldn't be ogling at his best friend's sister, especially with her brother around but he can't help it, he's instinctively attracted to you like a moth drawn to light.

Jinnie offers her hand at you as she's already in her swimsuit as well, "Come on!" She says.

You take her hand and giggle as you slowly make your way toward the water with pebbles against the bottom of your bare feet.

"Ack!" You shriek, feeling a shock of cold water touching your feet then back to giggling again.

Han realizes that if he doesn't want to miss anything, he should get changed now. He gets up from the bed of rock he's sitting on and finds Chan is already hallway to get naked, exposing his muscular upper body, his pale skin shines under the sun.

"Show off," he mutters, placing a gentle slap on his abs as he walks past him.

"What's that for?" Chan says with a perplexed look.

The breeze plays with Han's hair as he treads the water and more droplets of water hit his skin the closer he gets to where you are

For a second, he loses sight of you until you emerge from the surface of the water, glistening wet with your swimsuit stuck to your skin, enhancing the features of your heavenly body.

You're saying something to Jinnie as you're floating in the water but the words are lost in the roar of the waterfall. With a grin plastered on your face, he doesn't need to hear it to know you're having fun.

"Hey, come here," you shout in his direction.

Han looks around thinking you're talking to someone else but there's no one else but him there. He looks back at you and you're already making your way to him.

"I want to show you something cool," you say, taking his hand and dragging him with you.

Honestly, he's willing to go anywhere you take him even if you take him to the pit of hell and sweat he'll follow you there.

"Now, we have to dive in," you say, getting to the center of the pool where it's deep enough for a dive.

Han draws a big, deep breath before following you where you lead him, he sees through the blurry water where your figure is diving to and then comes out of the water.

You wipe the water off your face and put your hair away, "It's cool, isn't it?"

Han doesn't realize it at first but once he rubs the water off his eyes, he's standing on the other side of the waterfall, and behind him is a tall, slippery wall of rock.

It's just you and him, concealed behind an iridescent wall of water.

"Yeah," he nods as he looks at you to which you respond with a smile.

Out of nowhere, two figures emerge out of the water and startle you both. It's Jeongin and Jinnie, discovering the spot and finding you both there.

"Wow! This is amazing!" Jinnie gasps as she looks around while wiping the water off her mouth.

Jeongin doesn't say anything but stands close to the back, his skin a contrast with the dark of the rocky wall behind him.

The smile on Han's face slowly fades knowing that someone has shattered the tender moment he's having with you. He looks at you and your eyes are nowhere near his eyes, the next thing he knows, you dive your way out back to the world.

The fun continues as you and Chan team up to fight against Jinnie and Han. He's carrying you on his shoulders and clashing you at Jinnie who also rides on Han's shoulders, coming at each other until one of you falls into the water. Thanks to Chan's strong lower half body, you won most of the time.

Tired from swimming, everyone is chilling on the big bed of rock, drinking and eating the snacks they packed while drying up under the warm afternoon sun.

With your fingers pruning up, you're struggling to open a bag of chips and someone takes it to help you to open it.

"Here," Jeongin says, after swiftly opening it for you.

"Thanks," you mutter.

Jinnie let out a sigh as she hugs her knees, "I think this is the most fun I ever had in a long time."

Han gets up from lying down and puts his arm around her shoulder, "That's true."

Chan triumphantly grins as he uncaps a new bottle of water, "I told you guys to trust me."

"I trusted you," Jeongin mutters in defense.

Chan points at Han as he drinks his water, hinting that he's talking about a specific person. Grinning as he sees Han feeling called out by that.

"I didn't say anything," he defends himself, waving his hand in front of him in strong disagreement with Chan's accusation.

"Yeah but you were like whining the whole hike," Chan says, giving him a head shake of disbelief.

"I didn't," he resists to admit it, then looks at Jinnie to seek someone on his back, "I didn't, right?"

Jinnie looks at him and then looks at everyone, "Well, I wouldn't call it whining," she says.

Han glares at her as he senses a but trailing behind Jinnie's sentence. He puts his arm away from her and grumbles, "You know what? I'll not say anything on the hike way back."

On the hike way back, Han doesn't whine like he promised but he makes grunting noises. Chan knows he wants to complain but he wants to stick true to his own words.

He guides the hike back with you by his side and he's been catching you looking back a few times. He scoffs, knowing his sister so well to know that you're not just looking, you have eyes on someone.

"Who is it, baby sist?" He curiously asks.

You snap your head back and look ahead, "Huh? What?" You play coy.

With his hand on your shoulder, he stops you on your track and looks into your eyes, "I'm your brother. I know when my sister likes someone," he states.

You sigh because that's true, you can't hide the things from someone you've grown up your whole life with.

"Yeah, okay, you got me," you say in defeat.

"I didn't think much about it then but now, he's always in my head," you share, surprised that you don't find it awkward to tell personal things like this with him. Deep down you know it's not awkwardness you feel, you fear that Chan wouldn't be accepting of your choice.

"So, what do you think?"

Chan softly laughs and offers his hand at you as support to climb the outgrown tree roots, he waits until you safely land on the other side to answer.

"Well, I don't really have a say on that, do I?" he says.

"As far as I remember, you're really against it," you say, reminding him of the same ultimatum he says to his friends plenty of times.

"Yeah, but you know, as long as you're happy," he answers, along with a coy shrug.

Out of the blue, he playfully nudges your shoulder with his, "Ooo, baby sist is falling in love," he teasingly says.

You shove him hard until he's staggering to the side, "Stop calling me that!" You slap his big arm with each word.

Chan is as protective as a brother can be but he knows that he can't dictate every aspect of your life, including the person you like. However, as your brother, his opinions matter and it feels good to know that you have his approval.

-

The sun is setting when everyone returns to the campsite, painting the sky with bursts of red and yellow, gradually sending the day into the calm of night.

Before it gets dark, Chan orders everyone to work for dinner, he and Jeongin immediately build a campfire and the rest are setting the gas stove to cook.

"Can I help you with something?" Han offers his help to you and Jinnie who's busy prepping ingredients for dinner.

Jinnie hands him a pot, "Can you fill it with water?"

"How much water?"

"Just fill it full," she answers.

"Got it!" He takes the pot with him and comes back a few minutes later, carrying the pot of water with a lot of focus and cautiousness.

"Where do I put it?" He asks in a panic.

Jinnie gets out of the way to make space for him, "Here! On the stove!" She says.

He is concentrating hard on putting it right on the stove without spilling a drop, "How do you turn it on?"

You look away from the vegetables you're chopping and notice something on Han's leg, it seems like he scraped his knee without him knowing.

"Goodness, Han!" You gasp.

"Wh-what?" He asks in panic, looking at you in worry when he should be worried about himself.

"Your knee is bleeding," you point at the blood gushing out of his scraped knee. You scramble to find something for his wound.

Jinnie gets ahead of you, she comes with a bottle of water to wash the blood and tells him to sit down as she runs to the tent to get a first aid kit.

"Does it hurt?" You ask, finally find a napkin for it.

Han is surprisingly calm about it as he gently places the napkin over his wound, "I think I hurt my knee when I was getting water."

Chan pauses on grilling the meat to know what the ruckus is about, "What's going on?"

"Hannie scraped his knee," you shortly answer.

Jinne comes through with her bag of first-aid kit and pulls out a tube of ointment, she takes a dollop with a cotton bud and with so much gentleness, she dabs Han's wound with it.

Han hisses and winces in pain, reacting to the treatment and Jinnie quickly blows on it to soothe the pain.

"I just need to put a band-aid on it," she says and proceeds to take one from the pack. She puts a lot of care into covering his wound with it then sighs in relief.

"Thank you, Jinnie," Han sincerely says while holding the side of his knee.

Jinnie looks up as she's kneeling in front of him and warmly smiles, "You're very welcome, Han."

Despite the minor incident, dinner was a success as everyone finished the food in under an hour, and there was no better way to end a tiring yet fulfilling day than with cans of cold beer.

The night brings such a silence that the crackle of the campfire is all that could be heard with the sparks flickering and drifting upward. The smell of smoke mixed with the sweet smell of roasted marshmallows.

Being the good brother he is, Chan hands you the smores he made and takes the stick of marshmallow you're still roasting.

"Thanks," you mutter, wasting no time to bite into that gooey, crunchy sweetness.

Han wants to do the same for you, he makes smores out of the marshmallow he roasted a little too long and nudges Jeongin by the elbow.

"Pass it to her," he whispers, asking for his help to deliver it to you.

Jeongin doesn't say anything but takes it from him and without hesitation, he bites right into it.

"Hey, I made it for her!" He scolds him, putting his hands around Jeongin's neck to choke and force him to spit the smores he ate. That doesn't faze him, Jeongin has another bite to finish it and has no problem swallowing it down.

Thinking that Han is mad because Jeongin ate his smores, Jinnie gives the one she made to him as a consolation, "Here. You can have mine."

Han looks at it and feels bad to take it, "I– It's okay, I'm full anyway," he lies with a grin.

The night is a special kind of blackness, the kind that wants only to hold the stars and help them shine all the brighter. You tilt your head up and see those stars like pinpricks against the dark of night.

"Woah, look at those stars..." You sigh in wonder.

Everyone else follows suit, looking up at the night sky and feeling the same feeling of awe. When we realize how vast the universe is, our matters suddenly feel so small, don't you think?

"I have something to share with you guys," Jeongin suddenly announces.

Everyone stops staring at the night sky and looking at Jeongin, some are merely curious and the rest are anticipating what he tries to share.

"Remember when I told you guys I auditioned to join the Royal Orchestra?"

"Yeah, a couple of times," Chan says, bobbing his head at him.

"Last month I got the letter," he shares further.

"Oh!" Jinnie gasps in excitement even though Jeongin is not finished with the announcement yet.

Jeongin looks down at the blazing fire that gnaws on the logs of wood, making everyone wait for him to continue. After a while, he looks up and finally announces, "Well, I got in."

"Oh, my Gosh..." Chan sighs in relief with one hand clutching his chest.

"Yeah, man!" Han gives him a celebratory punch in the arm then puts his arm around him, "I just knew you'd get in."

"Duh!" Jinnie eggs in, "You're a great pianist, they're stupid if they didn't let you in."

"Congratulations, Jeongin! We're so proud of you," Chan says, giving him a pat on the back and a proud smile that exudes his paternal side towards Jeongin.

Jeongin looks at you and his eyes drop to his hands, "Which also means that I'll leave soon," he continues with shocking news.

The smiles on everyone's faces slowly fade at that announcement, it turns quiet again as everyone processes that there's a downside to this happy news. Jinnie looks devastated and she rests her head on Chan's shoulder to seek comfort.

"When do you have to leave?" Han asks.

"Next month," Jeongin replies.

"So... this will be the last time we're going to be together?" Jinnie sadly asks even though she's on the verge of tears already.

"Guys, I'm not dying," Jeongin says with an attitude.

Everyone lightly chuckles at that, Chan rearranges the logs to keep the bonfire alive and looks at Jeongin.

"How long will you be there?"

"It's a two-year contract," he answers.

Jinnie sniffles and puts on a small smile, "Just promise us that you'll always come to our weekly video meeting," she demands.

Jeongin chuckles and nods, crossing his fingers together as he says, "Promise!"

"Two years isn't that long," Han coyly says, poking the burned log with a tree branch.

"By the time I get back, I expect one of you to already be married to someone," Jeongin jokingly says, secretly throwing a glance at Chan and raising his eyebrow at him.

"I'm getting drowsy," you say, stretching your arms up and tilting your head side to side, "I'm going to head in and sleep."

Jinnie lifts her head off of Chan's shoulder and crosses her arms together in front of her, "Yeah, I'm going to sleep as well," she says.

It's getting late and the night only grows colder, Chan decides that it's time to sleep. He volunteers to put out the bonfire while Jeongin heads straight into the tent.

After taking a quick trip to the bathroom, Han enters the tent and sees that the sleeping bags have been arranged. Jinnie takes the farthest right and you're sleeping next to her, bundled in the warmth of your sleeping bag.

The middle one belongs to Chan and since Jeongin takes the farthest left which means he's going to be sleeping between them. He slips himself into his sleeping bag and turns his head only to find that you're still awake.

"I thought you're sleeping already," he lowly mutters.

You don't say anything but smile at him with your eyes soft and tender, blanketing his heart with warm feelings.

When it occurs to him that he's sleeping in this shared space with you, he gets that fluttering feeling inside, a kaleidoscope of butterflies flying around in his stomach.

"Goodnight, Han," you lowly murmur.

"Goodnight," he murmurs back, not taking his eyes off of you until you turn your head to the other side.

Han continues to admire your profile from the side, your eyes, your nose, and the plump of your lips that he's dying to taste. You're so beautiful and he gets to enjoy that beauty as much as he pleases.

"I'm surprised I didn't find you snoring already," Chan says as he enters the tent and zips it close.

Then there's the brother who always ruins this special moment. Han turns his head away and scoots slightly to the side to make more space for Chan, knowing how big he is.

"Let's see who gets to snore first," Han dares him.

The next thing he knows, Han finds himself in the forest again and he can hear you laughing. He looks up and finds you standing next to him with your hair wet and your feet bare.

"Take you somewhere..." you vaguely say.

Han doesn't answer but takes your hand, together you're walking through the forest. He feels the rough stone handholds against the palms and fingertips and tall lush grass sliding across calves.

Then he looks at you and you're smiling at him, your eyes bright and droplets of water are dripping down the end of your hair.

"It's cool," you say, laughing at him.

He thinks you find something funny about him so he starts to grope his body around and checks what is it that makes you laugh.

"Come here," you say, giggling with your hand still holding his.

"What?" He asks.

"It's cool," you say again, then you take the straps of your swimsuit and pull them down your shoulders. You're giggling while keep pulling the straps down, revealing your bare chest to him little by little until—

"Han, wake up!"

The image blurs as someone shakes his body awake. He ignores it and tries to go back to sleep, hoping that he gets to continue the dream.

"Wake up!"

"Ugh... mmh," he incoherently complains and curls up in his sleeping bag.

"Just let him sleep," you say to someone.

Han's eyes snap open the second he hears your voice, he then scrambles out of his sleeping bag, disoriented with his hair tousled.

"Are you coming?"

Without looking, Han can tell that it's Chan's voice.

"I'm coming, yes, coming," he mumbles with half-shut eyes.

He shivers as cold air blows into the tent, he gropes around for his jacket with eyes barely open, "What time is it?"

"It's four," Chan answers.

"In the afternoon?" He gasps in shock, can't believe that he slept through the day.

"In the morning," Chan corrects him.

It's even more shocking that he wakes up at four in the morning when the sun is not even out yet. He opens his mouth to complain but he sees you coming into the tent.

"Chris, can I borrow one of your hoodies?" You ask.

Han grabs what he assumes is his hoodie and hurriedly gives it to you, "You can wear mine," he offers with a sleepy smile.

Chan takes it from his hand and then gives it to you, "Hurry up! It's sunrise in any minute now," he rushes him.

Han is barely functioning but he tries to keep up with the group, walking through the path in the dark of the night that still lingers and the stars that insist on shining bright against the bruised sky.

He rushes to walk next to you while hugging himself to shield himself from the cold, "Where are we going?"

"Just to the top of that hill," you answer, looking beautiful even with your face bare and your eyes puffy from the lack of sleep.

It gets tricky as the path turns into climbing the rocky outcroppings and it's a bit embarrassing that you're the one helping him not the other way around.

"There she is," Chan says, pointing to the golden disk that rises on the horizon with its honeyed glow.

It is the time when the day casts away the cloak of night and makes an entrance with a bright, gold light of warmth, making it known that she rules the day once and forever more.

Jinnie walks up to Chan's side and stands so close to him, arms brushing and elbows grazing.

"It's like you have to whisper," Jinnie murmurs, thinking that she would disrupt the serene view by talking loudly.

When Chan looks at her, he realizes one thing. Jinnie is like the sunrise, she doesn’t care if anyone watches it or not, she will keep on being beautiful, even if no one bothers to look at it.

"You know what, Chris?" She suddenly asks.

"Yes?"

"This is one of those moments that I'll share with my future husband and children," she says, her eyes set on the sun that keeps on rising, gently and swiftly at once.

Hearing her talking about the future makes Chan wants to make it all true for her and have the chance to tell her future children, 'Yes, Dad was there too'. Just the thought of it already makes him so giddy that he finds himself smiling.

Jinnie slowly rests her head on his shoulder to enjoy the sunrise together and Chan gets what she said earlier, he also feels like saying things out loud would only ruin the moment so he decides to keep it in his heart a little longer.

"Ugh! He's stressing me out," You mutter to yourself, seeing Jinnie and Chan sharing an intimate moment and instead of using this as an opportunity to say something, Chan does nothing but stare at her like usual.

"That's my hoodie," Someone says.

You turn to the side and find Jeongin there, "Sorry?"

"You're wearing my hoodie," he says, pointing to the hoodie you're wearing which you thought belonged to Han.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," you meekly say, torn between keeping it on or not, but you know you need it, it's so cold to take it off.

"That's okay," Jeongin says, leaning on the rock next to you.

It's hard to interact with Jeongin because he rarely talks, he only talks when he has important things to say or has savage takes on things. You hesitate to talk to him without feeling like you'll waste his time. Still... you muster up the courage only to get interrupted by Han's head lolling onto your shoulder.

You check on him and see that he's falling back to sleep. You quickly put your arm around him to keep the back of his head from hitting the rock.

"We should have let him sleep," Jeongin says.

"Yeah," you respond with a soft laugh.

Now that he's speaking to you, you use this as an opportunity to congratulate him, "I didn't get the chance last night but congratulations for joining the Royal orchestra," you tell him.

Jeongin brushes his hair to the back and then clears his throat, "Thank you."

"I went to one of your shows two months back," you share and instantly regret doing it, what are you expecting though? For him to thank you.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jeongin asks, he seems to find it important to know the reason.

"Well, I just... I don't know, I don't want to disturb you and I was with a friend anyway so..." you vaguely explain.

There's no other reason why you came to his show except to watch him playing his piano, you thought of seeing him after the show but you were afraid that he'd be too busy for that.

"We could have hung out. I'd treat you to dinner," he says while scratching his ear.

"That sounds nice," you comment with a smile.

"I'm not a cheapskate like Han," he jokingly adds with a soft laugh.

"Well, I was think— Oh!" You abruptly stop talking as Han nuzzles his head further into your neck and puts his arm across your chest.

Jeongin gets on his feet and makes you switch places with him. He takes Han's arm from around your shoulder, offering himself for him to lean on instead of you.

"Is Han sleeping?" Chan asks, noticing his friend is draping on Jeongin's shoulder.

"I told you to let him sleep," you grumble at him.

The walk back isn't as bad as the climb, Han is being dragged by Chan to make sure of his safe return to the campsite. Jeongin is tasked to brew coffee for everyone while Jinnie and Chan are making breakfast together. You volunteer to tidy up the tent and fold the sleeping bags.

Once you're done, you join everyone around the campfire and Jeongin immediately hands you a cup of coffee.

"Thank you," you mutter, holding it with both hands to absorb the heat.

Chan mischievously slaps Han's shoulder, startling him awake from his sleep and making him jolt on the chair.

"Time for breakfast!" He informs him.

He looks at him with wondering eyes, stretches his arms out, and then lets out a big yawn. Even with a barely functioning brain, Han knows that it's time to eat, he takes a plate and a piece of toast.

"Here. Have an egg," Jinnie says, sliding an egg onto his plate from the frypan.

She then turns at you and says, "You too."

You hurriedly grab a plate and mutter your gratitude at her, wasting no time to start digging in. Soon, everyone is stuffing their mouth with food and it gets quiet that you can hear the forest come alive around you.

"We're going to drive the whole day today," Chan informs out of nowhere.

"Can we know where we're going now?" Jinnie asks, taking a bite of her bread.

Chan pulls out something out of his jeans pocket, a piece of paper but he continues to unfold it open. With an excited grin, he turns it around and reveals a poster.

"How long have you been keeping that poster in the back of your jeans?" Jeongin curiously asks, then takes a small sip of his coffee.

Not getting the reaction he expected, Chan frowns and his shoulders slumped. Han snatches the poster from his hands and looks at it with utter bewilderment.

"What? Did you get tickets to this? How?" He asks with his cheeks full of food.

You don't recognize it at first until you see the logo of the band and gasp in surprise, "Am I seeing The Hare concert poster?"

The grin blooms on Chan's face once more, "More like the poster for their secret gig this Friday night," he humbly brags.

"What?" You ask again with eyes widening.

Han roughly yanks the sleeve of Chan's sweater, "How did you get the tickets?"

"Let's say I knew someone who knows someone," Chan cryptically says, deciding not to tell everyone how he acquired those tickets.

"Anyway, I think it's better if the girls take turns to drive first," he continues with the planning.

"Yep. It's best if you boys get some rest before driving all night," Jinnie agrees, already collecting the trash from around the table.

You're representing everyone when you say that Jinnie and Chan make a great team, they're the ones who came up with the planning and handled the financial stuff, and they make sure everyone is doing well and having fun. They're basically playing parents to you, Han, and Jeongin which adds one more reason why they should date as soon as possible.

-

Jinnie offers to take the first turn to drive and Chan is the last one to get into the car as he has to return the rented tent and pay for it.

"Everyone please make sure you've checked your belongings," Chan says as he puts his safety belt on.

Jinnie turns on the car engine and checks everything, her safety belt, and the angle of the rearview mirror, and then adjusts the seat.

"Do you mind if I play music from my phone?" You ask.

"Not at all," Jinnie replies, tucking her hair behind her ear as she backs the car from the parking lot and starts driving.

Not long after the car driving through the main road, Han startles in the backseat and then asks, "How long have we been driving?"

Chan glances at his smartwatch and turns his head to the back, "About 35 minutes. Why?"

"I want to pee," Han says, his face doesn't show any expression but it makes his face appear so round.

"Can you hold it?" Chan asks.

Han considers it for a moment then slowly leans back on his seat, "Yeah, I'll– I'll hold it," he doubtfully says.

"Distract yourself, you know, think of something so you don't want to pee anymore," Chan suggests.

"Think of the waterfall we went to yesterday," Jeongin playfully adds with a suppressed laugh.

"Hey!" Chan slaps Jeongin's arm, saying the opposite of what he suggested.

"I'll try to sleep," Han finds a better solution to detain his urge to pee.

"That's a great idea!" Chan says.

It's a good thing that Han is one of those people who can sleep anytime anywhere. He manages to sleep through two hours long of drive until the urge comes back.

"Guys, I don't think I can hold it anymore," he mutters, biting his lower lip until it turns pale.

Jinnie looks at him through the rearview mirror and sees how he can't hold the urge anymore, "The sign says rest area is only 10 kilometers away," she informs.

Han grips the headrest of Jeongin's headrest, "Okay."

"Are we good?" Jinnie asks.

"Yeah," he meekly answers.

"Just a few more minutes," you convince him.

There's nothing you can do to help him but you can relate to that feeling, you look back to check on him once in a while.

"Jinnie?" He calls again.

"Yeah?"

"Please step on the gas!" Han says, looking a little pale now.

Considering the urgency of the situation, Jinnie allows herself to go above the speed limit, she steps on the gas and the car picks up the speed, launching the car forward.

Sensing the change in speed, Chan wakes up from his nap and looks around in confusion. But the first thing he does when he gains his sense is check on Jinnie.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Han needs to pee," you answer for her since she focuses on driving.

"Almost there!" Jinnie says as she changes the lane to enter the rest area.

Han hops out of the car once the car gets to the parking lot of the rest area and immediately runs to search for the bathroom.

Once the car is parked, Jinnie lets out a sigh and leans back on her seat, "That was the most intense ten minutes I ever had in my life," Jinnie says.

Seeing the hilarity of it all, the three of you burst into laughter almost at the same time, making it one of those memorable little things that happened on this road trip.

The laughter wakes Jeongin up from his nap and he looks confused as to why everyone is laughing, "What's happening?"

No one is answering him but keep laughing until we're running out of air. Oh, there's nothing like the deep breaths after laughing that hard. 

-

Since they're stopping at a rest area and it's close to lunchtime, they may as well take a break from driving to ear. Everyone scatters the second they step into the food court to order the food they want. You decide on a bowl of ramen and get in the queue with Jinnie behind you.

Even though he's already carrying a tray of food in his hands, Chan stops next to the queue and scans the menu.

"Hey, baby sist!" He loudly calls you.

The people in the queue turn their heads to see who he calls baby sist, you hurriedly turn your back to them and glare at Chan.

"Please don't address me with that name in public," You scold him through your gritted teeth.

"Order a portion of fried dumplings for me," he says, ignoring your complaint and leaving with a grin.

Everyone gathers at one of the long tables in the middle of the food court with their choices of lunch, you slide the plate of fried dumplings at Chan and steal one piece with your chopsticks.

"You better not drink a lot of sodas if you have a weak bladder," Jeongin and his savage intake make an appearance.

Han pretends not to hear him and continues to stuff his cheek with more food.

The lunch is not enough, so everyone scatter once more to buy snacks. You're getting a bag of mini fish-shaped cakes for desserts and Han appears behind you with a big smile on his face.

"Got you ice cream," he says.

"How nice of you!" You delightfully exclaim.

"I don't know what you like so I chose three flavors at once," he explains the different flavors of ice cream in one cone.

"Thank you," you mutter your gratitude with a smile.

"I have to go for another bathroom break," he says with a grin lingering on his face, then leaves the other way.

The ice cream would make a great dessert if it didn't have strawberry ice cream in the mix. It's obvious that Han completely forgot that you're allergic to it, you can't eat it, or throw it away. You can give it to Chan but Han would know that you're not eating the ice cream he specifically bought for you and he would find that disrespectful, or worse, upset him.

Making your way out of the food court, you carry the bag of snacks in one hand and the ice cream in the other, still have no idea what to do with it.

Out of nowhere, Jeongin comes from the side, also carrying an ice cream in hand. He takes the one from your hand and switches it with him, a chocolate-flavored one.

"You can have mine," he says, not waiting to bite right into the ice cream.

Not only that he remember your allergy, but he also comes with a new ice cream and you find that endearing. You let out a mix of scoff and laugh, "I've never seen someone bite into ice cream."

"Well, there's always a first time to everything," he coyly says.

-

It's your turn to drive now and thankfully, you have set up an hour-long playlist for it. Jinnie remains in the front, sitting on the passenger's side and putting her legs up as she draws on her sketchbook.

The boys don't find it hard to fall back to sleep after a hearty lunch, you lower the volume of the music and only hum along to the song currently playing in the car to not wake the sleeping beauties in the back.

"What do you think?" Jinnie asks, holding her sketchbook out to you.

You keep the steering wheel steady to glance at the rough drawing of you from her point of view, then look back straight ahead.

"Wow. That's good!" You compliment.

Jinnie is a great illustrator, she mostly does illustrations for children's books and magazines which explains her exceptional talent for drawing.

"Please tell me you'll finish it and then email it to me," you say, already planning on making it your profile picture for your social media.

"I'll finish it when I'm not in a moving vehicle," she says, putting her pencil back into its case and putting it on the dashboard along with the sketchbook.

"I think it's cute," Jinnie says while stretching her arms to the front.

"What cute?" You ask with a perplexed smile.

"The way Chris calls you baby sist," she answers.

Oh, she must be talking about that little incident that happened back at the food court. You nod and tap your steering wheel to the rhythm of the song playing.

"Look, I don't mind when call me that in front of you guys. Just don't do it in front of a bunch of strangers," you explain, briefly shifting your focus to driving by a big truck.

"I mean... what if there are cute guys there and they heard it," you playfully remark.

Jinnie softly chuckles and grabs a bottle of water from the cup holder, "You're beautiful and smart, you shouldn't have any problems getting a cute guy," she says.

"That I agree!" You jokingly say with a sassy eyebrow raise.

When it occurs to you that this would be the perfect opportunity to have another crack at her, you arrange the words in your head before saying them out loud.

"I can say the same thing about you, Jinnie. You're beautiful and smart, except you have a lot of patience in you," you pause for a chuckle and briefly glance at her, "you shouldn't have any problems getting a hot guy."

Jinnie gets quiet and you begin to think that your words offended her in a way yet you give it another moment for her to digest your words thoroughly. She suddenly looks back, probably making sure that none of the boys are listening in on this conversation.

"I'm just a girl," Jinnie meekly says, lowering her voice as she slightly slumps in her seat, "All I can do is wait for the other person to profess their feelings to me."

Oh, finally! You manage to successfully crack her this time. You keep your cool and continue to crack deeper into it.

"I have to stop you right there!" You tell her with your hand raised, making a stop sign at her.

"You're not just a girl, you're incredible!" You may have exaggerated your tone a little bit but she needs to hear the truth in your words.

"You're not just beautiful and smart, you're kind, compassionate and you're strong and gentle at the same time. And if I'm being honest, I look up to you a lot," you openly admit.

"Aww..." Jinnie coos, she seems to be taking your compliments well along with a shy smile.

"And a girl like you shouldn't wait. A girl like you take matters into your own hands and you know, tell him how you feel," you encourage her.

Yeah, okay, maybe there's an underlying motive here but that doesn't make what you said to her a lie.

"It's a different thing when the person you like is your friend and you've been close with that person for so long," Jinnie sighs, her voice drops lower and she seems smaller than ever.

However, the mystery is now solved. Jinnie is indeed having the same feeling, she's hesitant only because they've been friends for too long. You get it that sometimes it's a bit scary to date someone who knows so much about you but if you focus on the good side, it means that they'll be more accepting and understanding towards your qualities.

If there are two people who truly deserve each other, it's Chan and Jinnie.

"Isn't that a good thing? You've known each other long enough to learn so much about each other and understand each other better," you give her your opinion and secretly glance to see her reaction.

Jinnie plays with the lint on her jeans as she digests your words while looking at the ever-changing scenery as the car keeps moving forward.

"You're right," she finally responds to your words.

Now, that you've tried your best to give her that little push, you can only hope for the outcome and hopefully, it'll be the best one.

"I know I'm right," you confidently remark, then burst into laughter.

Unbeknownst to you and Jinnie, Chan has been listening all along and behind his dark hoodie, he's smiling from ear to ear.

-

After stopping for dinner, the trip continues with Chan behind the wheel and Jeongin on his side. Jinnie takes the middle seat with Han and you occupy the backseat, using the extra space to curl up and sleep.

It's a bummer that you're not sitting next to him but this way, Han can easily look to the back and see you peacefully sleeping with a hand under your head, lost in your sweet dream.

"Hey, Han, can you get me a can of soda?" Chan asks without looking at him.

Since he's too busy watching you sleep, Han doesn't hear it the first time and snaps his head to the front, "What?"

"Get me a soda," Chan repeats while holding his arm out to the back so Han can hand it right into his hand.

Han rummages inside the small cooler box next to his feet, grabbing the first can that rolls into his hand and putting it into Chan's hand.

"Thanks!" Chan shortly says to him.

The road is eerily empty as it turns smaller from four into two lanes and the last sliver of sun has fully disappeared, replaced by the soft moonlight on a hot summer night.

Having nothing to do, Jeongin looks into the GPS to assess the route and the final destination.

"It says we'll arrive at 7 in the morning," he says.

"Yep, there's no hurry. We have plenty of time until the gig," Chan calmly says, still holding the soda in his hand, unopened.

Jeongin reclines on his seat and crosses his arms together on his chest, "And what we're going to do until then?"

"I booked us rooms at a hotel nearby," Chan informs, "we'll have some rest before leave in the afternoon."

"Hotel, right? Not motel?" Jeongin asks with suspicious eyes because the last time they stayed at the motel, he had to share the bed with Han.

"Yes," Chan hastily answers.

"I'm going to get my own room," Jeongin says.

"I thought you like sharing the bed with me," Han jokingly says.

"That's the least of my worries," Jeongin says, then gives each of them a glare.

Han pops his head in the middle of them, "Then what's the problem?"

Jeongin gives each of them a glare, "It's you guys snoring. It's like a whole orchestra in there but all the instruments are tuba," he says with a shiver.

Han grabs the front of Jeongin's shirt in response, "My snore sounded nothing like tuba!"

"How do you know what your snores sound like?" Jeongin asks, giving him the side eyes.

"Last time I checked it's Beethoven's Symphony No. 9," Han answers without a beat.

Jeongin leans at him and gives him a perplexed look, "What?"

"What?" Han asks back with daring eyes.

"Beethoven's Symphony No. 9," Chan says, finding himself giggling to it and his giggles gradually turn into laughter that fills the small, enclosed space.

Chan slows down the speed and holds the steering wheel steady with his forearms to open his can of soda. The second it pops open, the carbonated drink fizzles and spills out of the can.

"Oh, no, man..." he groans in complaint, seeing the soda get all over the steering wheel and dripping onto his lap.

"You made a mess, Chris," Jeongin grumbles, pulling multiple tissues out of the box and then handing some to him. He helps to wipe the droplets that somehow land on the console.

With one hand steadily holding the steering wheel, Chan keeps on dabbing the wet patch on the jeans with a ball of tissues.

"Ugh, it's sticky," Chan groans in disgust and then looks down at his lap to see if he misses anything.

The moment Chan's eyes are off the road, the headlights shine on an object that comes into sight, and Jeongin, as the only one aware of the deer standing in the middle of the road, reflexively grabs the steering wheel and turns it hard to the right.

Losing control of the car, no one can do anything to stop it. The tires are screeching against the asphalt as the car spins around, and eventually stops as it hits something with a loud banging sound, but no one is moving.

-

Support my blog by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @yourmomscuntis2tighy @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @jebetwo @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @cutiespaghetti @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist @9900z

[penkura]

last forever [13/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed without realizing how happy you would both become and the family you would create together.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and having a baby, that's all

Note: I didn't initially plan this. I was going to stop this fic at twelve chapters, but I felt like ch.12 was getting to be way too long so I broke it up and put the epilogue at the end of thsi one. Do not be surprised if I ever come back to this fanfic universe for one-shots or drabbles. This is shorter than I expected, but I'm happy with how it turned out, thanks for reading this fanfic, I hope you've all enjoyed it! :)

The latter bit is set ten years after chapter 12, Zoro is 31 and Reader is 30.

Taglist:

@misfits1a | @alucardsdaddyissues | @louweasleymalfoy | @fluffybunnyu | @yerrimm09 | @eyes-ofhell | @emmaiscool22 | @xenop0p | @hank88999

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6] ● [Ch. 7] ● [Ch. 8] ● [Ch. 9] ● [Ch. 10] ● [Ch. 11] ● [Ch. 12]

Your morning is quiet, despite Nami and Robin sharing knowing looks when you and Zoro entered the galley together for breakfast. Nami swears you're glowing and it grosses her out for a moment when she makes the suggestion to Robin who laughs, and says the three of you will need to have a girls night later to talk. No one asked where two had disappeared to the night before, it seemed like none of them had noticed, which you were grateful for. It kept you and Zoro from having to answer any awkward questions for the time being.

Zoro didn't notice or care, if someone had asked he would've told them, but still keep you from feeling embarrassed or anything, this is all still new to both of you of course. Breakfast goes by without anyone bringing anything up, even as Sanji gives you a smile that you return, discreetly showing him your ring and confirming that he was right, everything turned out okay so far.

Most of your day is spent doing the normal things you’ve always done, the Sunny is docked at an island for a restock, you choose to go into town with Robin and Jinbei, Zoro tried to go along but Nami pulls him back, telling you to go ahead while she takes your husband for help with other things. You don’t question it only because that’s completely normal, you don’t even question Robin in town when she tries to convince you to buy a pretty white dress you seem to be staring at. You try it on but don’t buy it, there’s no reason to.

“Are you sure, [Y/N]? It’d look lovely on you, I’m sure Zoro would think so too.”

“Nah, I don’t need it,” you laugh a bit as you go to look at something else that’s caught your eye, “Zoro doesn’t care what I wear anyway.”

“Mm…if you say so.”

You swear there’s something Robin isn’t telling you, even as you both try of different clothes and buy a few items, deciding you’ll bring Nami by later too, there’s plenty here she’ll like.

You do find it odd when Jinbei tries to get you to purchase a flower crown or a small bouquet of your favorite flowers for yourself, denying again that you really don’t need them. You’re not sure if you were imagining it or not, but you think the two share a knowing look with slight smiles as you head back to Sunny a while later.

When you make it back and see almost none of your crewmates around, you start to get suspicious something else is going on, especially seeing the way the ship deck is decorated to almost resemble a wedding, though with its own Straw Hat character, and Zoro waiting for you.

Face red, in a suit (that fits this time), and a bouquet of your favorite flower surrounded by daisies, heliotrope, and aster.

It dons on you immediately what Jinbei and Robin were doing, they were trying to get you ready for an impromptu marriage ceremony, but you didn’t catch on until now, you feel kind of stupid. Of course the white dress and small bouquet make sense now, even though Zoro hasn’t said anything. He doesn’t even notice you’re there at first, not until you say his name and he finally looks at you.

“Hey…you’re back.”

“What,” You’re trying hard not to cry but you can’t fight the smile that’s starting to creep onto your face as Zoro hands the flowers over to you, still nervous about this and maybe embarrassed over it, “What’s this about…?”

He’s quite for a moment, while you look over the flowers, a bright and happy look on your face. You know he’s had help with this, it’s what he and Nami were probably out buying while the others set things up.

“When we got married, legally, it wasn’t really a wedding,” scratching the back of his head, Zoro sighs just a bit before taking your hand and getting on one knee in front of you, returning the smile you’re giving him, “I know I was a stubborn ass about this for a long time, but you already know my thoughts on this, on us now…so I want to give you as real a wedding as I can. One you deserve.”

You have to stop yourself from laughing when it takes Zoro a minute to dig through the pockets he’s not used to find an engagement ring, one you don’t need but you figure Nami made him buy it just so you had one, even with your wedding band already on your hand.

“We’ve already got rings, and this time real witnesses,” you both can hear Luffy not so quietly asking Sanji for food before he's hushed and told to wait, everyone watching from the various places they’re hiding in, “Luffy’s ready to say whatever he needs to for us to be considered married on this crew, but I still have to ask you. So…will you marry me, for real this time, [Y/N]?”

“Of course, Zoro!” It’s not even something you can pretend to think about, not after everything you’ve gone through now. You throw your arms around him and Zoro hugs you close, there’s obvious relief like he was worried you’d changed your mind overnight while he tells you he loves you.

“Heyyy, can we do the ceremony now and eat?!”

“You idiot, she’s got to get dressed first!”

“Sanji made a great cake, it’s really sweet!”

“We were all glad when you went into town with Robin and Jinbei, we probably wouldn’t have gotten this all done if you hadn’t!”

“This is super great for both of you!”

“Yohohoho, I’ll get ready to play the wedding march then!”

“Mosshead, you better treat her right!”

“It’s wonderful to see you both happy now!”

“I may not have the full details of your circumstances, but congratulations to you both!”

You barely listen to your crewmates, your main focus being on Zoro and how this was pulled off so quickly, but you don’t bother to ask any questions, kissing your husband briefly.

“I suppose I should go get ready!”

“Yeah,” Zoro gives you a slight smirk before kissing your forehead, “I’ll be here, wife.”

Robin and Nami rush you off to your shared room to get you dressed, Robin having been sneaky and showing she’d purchased the dress she told you to buy, along with a small bouquet of flowers for you to carry. It’s nothing fancy, but that works perfectly with your relationship and how you’ve come together with Zoro.

Once they’ve got you ready the two go back to the deck to make sure everything and everyone is situated, sending Sanji after you a bit later, he’s agreed to be the one to give you away essentially, though you stop him just ad you’re about to head to the deck, he gives you a concerned look.

“Sanji, do you…do you think Zoro and I will last forever?”

Sanji takes a breath, before smiling and taking your hand as he lets it out.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a couple more destined to last than you two. Besides, I don’t think the mosshead is willing to wear a suit for just anybody.”

You laugh and agree, telling Sanji you’re ready before he leads you out to the deck.

It’s not a very long or formal ceremony, Luffy stumbles a few times trying to remember what he needs to say, he even gets choked up a few times when he thinks about how he’s seen you and Zoro go from a marriage born of convenience to now being in love and properly married. It almost gets to you as well, but you keep all your tears back, just a few slipping g out when Luffy tells Zoro to hurry up and kiss you which makes you laugh. You know Zoro hates public displays of affection, but he’s willing to look past it for you, only you he’d justify. After that Luffy shouts for the party to start, you and Zoro laughing together just a bit while he holds you close.

“Thanks for not giving up on me, wife.”

“Hmm, thanks for saving me, husband.”

Chopper is right, the cake Sanji made is sweet, you’re surprised Zoro even has some, that he mostly stays away from alcohol except when you bring him a drink later on. It prompts him to pull you to his lap, pressing a kiss to your cheek to make you giggle.

“What’s this for?”

“Nothing,” he sighs a bit, holding you closer and laying his forehead on your shoulder, “Just glad you’re my wife is all.”

“Forever, right?”

“Forever. No matter what happens.”

Nami and Sanji watch you two from the side, giving each other looks that tell more than anything they know you’ll make it. They’ve both watched you ever since they each joined, seen how Zoro treats you and how much you’ve come to love each other. Even when Luffy comes over and drags you away from your real, permanent husband to dance with your captain, the same look Sanji swore to you he’s always seen on Zoro’s face. Soft and loving, he just watches you while you and Luffy giggle together.

When everyone starts to settle down, you’re surprised by Chisa returning to you after being gone since you arrived in Wano. She stops in front of you with two letters, one you know is from Elias and the other from your parents, finally. You’re not sure what to think, even when Zoro wraps his arms around you and sets his chin on your shoulder.

“Well?”

Pursing your lips, you shrug, before tearing up the letter still in the envelope causing Zoro roll tighten his hold on you. For a minute you don’t say anything, before you sigh and lean back against him with a smile.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t want care about what they have to say…I only care about you.”

“Hmm,” Zoro kisses tour cheek which makes you giggle before you do the same to him, “That’s my wife, I’m proud of you.”

“Love you, Zoro.”

“Yeah…I love you too.”

You two are going to last forever.

+!+

~10 years later~

You have a newborn baby girl to care for now, literally minutes old as she lays next to you and cries, unhappy about her new surroundings. It’s the middle of winter and the only people you’re allowing around her at the moment are the midwives of Shimotsuki Village that had come to help you deliver your baby in the middle of the day. Every one of them praises you for doing so well, but all you care about is your daughter and Zoro getting to see her, to meet her face to face. He’d been more anxious about it as you got closer to your due date, neither of you knowing if you’d have a boy or girl until the moment you gave birth, and now you have her!

She’s perfectly chubby, her little hands trying to grasp at the air while she wails and kicks her feet at the same time, even as you take hold of one of her hands. You want to laugh seeing her hair is just a slightly darker shade of green than Zoro’s, but smile instead as you calm her down.

“Shh, shh, baby girl, everything’s okay. I’m here, sweetheart. Your daddy’s on his way.”

It’s not even five minutes later you hear Nami yelling outside your door about how someone could miss this, while Sanji starts to swoon at her for being so protective of you but asking her to calm down, stress isn’t good for her or their own baby either. You hear Luffy laugh a bit himself, saying something you can’t understand before Usopp and Robin suggest they all leave you alone, as the door to your room opens and you’re so glad to see who’s finally there.

“Zoro~”

“I’m sorry I missed it, I was asking master something,” Zoro takes your hand you reached for him with, kissing your forehead before he sits beside you, looking at your baby with nothing but pride and love on his face, “We…we have a baby…”

“We have a daughter, Zoro.”

“She’s perfect. Just like her mama.”

Rolling your eyes, you just watch for a few minutes while Zoro takes in the fact you have a daughter to raise now. Honestly, you had been expecting to have a boy, and Zoro never told you what he thought you might have, he said it didn’t matter because it was your child, you made this baby together, he’d love them no matter what. But seeing him gently stroke her hair and let her hold onto his finger, you swear you’re falling in love with him all over again.

“Did you ask your master what we talked about?”

Zoro doesn’t hear you at first, he’s too focused on your daughter and watching her settle down, starting to sleep, before he realizes you spoke to him and asks you to repeat your question. When you do so, he nods, looking back to your daughter.

“Well?”

“He said nothing would make him happier…”

Nodding, you sigh in content when Zoro kisses your forehead again, before doing the same to your daughter.

“Welcome to the world, Kuina.”

You plan to give your daughter everything you never had and more, all the love in the world and no expectations to marry rich unless she decides to. Watching Zoro with her the rest of the day makes you realize this was all you ever wanted.

To love someone and be loved the same, and give that love to your own child forever.

[callalillywrites]

Bad Idea Made Better

My first entry for @flufftober's Fluff Bingo. A5 - "This is a bad idea."

This is also my first real fic for Aaron Hotchner and the Criminal Minds fandom. I hope I did him justice here.

Fluff Bingo Masterlist | Aaron Hotchner Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader

Word Count: ~2200

Summary: Everyone is wanting to celebrate Dave's newest bestseller, but things go a bit awry. Thankfully, you and Aaron know how to work together to make everything better.

Warnings: mentions of illness; surprise parties; lots of fluff and sweetness all around

A/N: I really do adore this story, and I'm definitely looking forward to writing more of Hotch as he's always been one of my favs from the show.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

*****

"I don't know, Aaron. This feels like a really bad idea," you couldn't saying as you both juggled the multiple objects in your hands. "Dave doesn't strike me as someone who appreciates others invading his space."

Aaron Hotchner had the audacity to chuckle at your misgivings.

When you would've liked to nudge him or playfully shove him for laughing, all the stuff in your arms prevented you. The only thing left in your arsenal was snark, and you'd always had plenty of it.

Before you could unleash any though, Dave's front door opened.

Penelope squealed upon seeing the many items you two carried, motioning you both inside. "Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh, I'm so glad you're here. We could really use your help, my sweet lady."

You didn't get to ask why because Penelope had grabbed the only free space she could find and dragged you from Aaron's side. A glance behind you to see Aaron shaking his head, his smile visible and growing, before you were pulled deeper into Dave's home.

Penelope didn't let go until she'd gotten you into the massive and beautifully kept kitchen.

Well, used to be beautifully kept, you realized. It honestly took you a few moments to find the kitchen you considered your dream kitchen under all the mess.

"What happened in here?"

That was all it took for Penelope to dive into the juicy info she'd gathered since she arrived that morning.

From your understanding, Joy had been in the process of starting some food prep with her hubby when Kai woke up sick. Of course, they'd dropped everything and took Kai to the ER. His temp was way too high, and he complained of tummy ache. The ER took them forever. Kai was diagnosed with a stomach bug that should resolve itself in a few days. By the time they returned to Dave's place, they'd been too exhausted to even recall the mess they'd left behind.

Kai, understandably, has been their priority over any cleaning they might've done this morning before Penelope and Derek arrived.

"Penny," you surveyed the damage, not comprehending how a little prep has led to this much mess, "this can't be all Joy."

"Oh, it's not," she assured you before she recounted more of this kitchen's odyssey.

When she and Derek arrived, they did set out to clean up and start over, but neither of them had ever really been so great at making pasta, let alone Dave's favorite dishes. They'd gathered every cookbook they could find around the house before Penelope got out her laptop.

Every appliance Dave owned had been pulled from their respective spaces and used in some capacity. Not one of them had been saved from a dusting of flour or whatever paste the two had seemed to create instead of pasta dough. Some of it even appeared to have started crusting over, hardening where it'd been left.

"Take these," you said in a nonsense but gentle tone, "and get Aaron. I'm going to need his help in here. Oh, and Penny, please pray I can get through this mess and still have time to make everything we agreed to make."

"On it, sweet lady," she said, her heeled steps clicking her departure. She paused in the doorway and met your gaze over her shoulder, her smile sweet and infectious. "I'm really glad you're here, and I have complete faith in you."

You surveyed the mess once more, developing a working game plan. The mess would take at least a half-hour to clean. Another hour or so to make enough food for the surprise party. Time would be cutting it close, but you felt confident this could work.

"What do you need, honey?" Aaron asked, his arms coming around your middle.

Your confidence increased at his arrival and sweet words of assistance.

Turning in his arms, you rose as high as your toes allowed to place a sweet kiss on his lips. A smile crept over your features as you met his warm brown eyes. "Your attention to detail and some elbow grease."

"You've always got those," he said with such promise. His lips curved into a grin that had your insides melting a little, but you reluctantly pushed those feelings aside. Oh, this man could do things to you that you never thought anyone would be able to do.

It took a moment before you regained your professionalism and set him to work.

Between you two, Dave's disaster of a kitchen returned to his level of pristine cleanliness. You'd even done it with a few minutes to spare with the half-hour block you'd estimated earlier.

It helped that you two had learned to work so well together, having cooked many meals together.

Sure, the days where Jack joined were a bit more chaotic, but they were no less fun and soul healing. Jack, not so little anymore, still proved helpful and resourceful whenever a mishap threatened to topple whatever plans had been made. He'd even picked up quite a few skills from both you and Aaron, doing his part whenever it was called for.

You wouldn't trade any of the days you've shared with Aaron and Jack for anything, you realized, as he set up the few appliances you needed. Your love for them had been set deep within your heart, and you looked forward to having as many more as they'd allow you.

"What's that face?" Aaron asked, his hand coming up to trace over your cheek. "I don't know that I've seen that face before. You okay, honey?"

Shaking yourself, you smiled with all the love you had. "Yeah, I'm good. Really good."

He studied you another moment. Whatever he saw must've lent truth to your words because he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

A squeal from the doorway had you both turning towards it. Wry grins stole over your features as only one could make that noise from the team, and that was Penelope.

"You two are just so cute," she gushed.

Her hands were clenched beneath her chin as she practically vibrated where she stood.

You could only shake your head as you asked, "Need something, Penny?"

"Oh, yeah, I need to borrow Hotch. I'll send him right back, sweet lady."

After assuring Aaron and Penelope you could manage on your own for a bit, you quickly set about to work. The first task you needed to complete was making enough pasta for everyone joining for this celebration of Dave's latest bestseller.

A quick glance at the clock promised you'd have just enough time to get everything finished on time as long as no other hiccups occurred.

Aaron returned a few minutes later, and Joy even managed to join you two. She quickly figured out what was left and set about doing that, her gratitude evident despite her exhausted state.

When you were certain you had everything under control, you quickly searched out the fully stocked fridge and cabinets of Dave's kitchen. After grabbing a few items, you set them down on the counter and quickly made up something soft but filling for Joy, Kai, and Shawn. It wouldn't do to make them wait another hour or so for Dave's surprise dinner to eat something.

"You really don't have to do that," Joy said when she realized what you were doing.

Shaking your head, you shushed her. "It's not a problem. I've learned how fussy a young boy can be when they're not feeling well. This was one of Jack's favorites whenever he caught something. Maybe it'll help Kai as well."

Joy didn't argue after that, simply sat and watched as you finished everything up yet again.

When you would've trayed it up, Aaron stopped you, nudging you aside and taking over. His hands took up the few plates and bowls you'd prepared and set them in a manner that only one trip would be needed.

"I'll bring the tray if you'd like to grab the drinks, Joy," he said and waited until she led the way from the kitchen. When he reached the doorway, he paused a moment to meet your gaze. The softest smile graced his features as he said, "Do you know how much I love you?"

A smile bloomed until your cheeks hurt.

You nodded. "I do, and I love you just as much, Aaron."

"That's impossible, honey."

He didn't give you the chance to argue, his feet quickly taking him out of the doorway and catching up to Joy.

With the kitchen to yourself once more, you turned back to what was left to do.

Well, you thought you had it to yourself.

A noise near the back door had you turning to find Dave standing there. His suitcase sat at his feet and an amused but affectionate expression rested on his own obviously face.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough, mia bella," he spun his keys in his hand before coming further into the kitchen and sitting at his large island, "to know how much you mean to this team and even to my family."

Being the premier profiler, he didn't give you a chance to flounder but rather continued by changing the subject. "So, how much damage have they done to my house?"

You huffed, shaking your head at him. Amusement filled you when you caught the twinkling humor lurking in his expressive eyes. He only allowed a few people to see his mischievous side, and you felt quite honored to be one of those people.

"I'm sure it's not too bad. I did try and tell them this was a bad idea, but they were quite insistent as I'm sure you're aware."

"You're a good kid. If Aaron doesn't put a ring on your finger soon, let me know. We'll find you a good Italian boy, someone who'll appreciate all you have to offer."

To emphasize his words, he reached into the pan closest to him and snatched some of the pasta you'd just finished preparing. A soft moan of appreciation left his throat almost involuntarily, chewing slowly to enjoy each of the flavors you added.

"If I were twenty years younger…"

"You would make me wife number five?"

"You wound me, mia bella."

"My apologies, Dave," you said sincerely.

"Hotch is gone five minutes, Rossi, and you're over here trying to propose to his girl," Derek said from the doorway, his brows raised even as a wide grin spread over his face. "You're either a brave man or a stupid one. Ring or no ring, we all know Hotch is all in with Pretty Mama."

"That I am," Aaron agreed, stepping back into the room.

He didn't stop until he returned to your side where he belonged and had belonged for some time. His arm came up to wrap around your waist even as he dropped a kiss into your hair.

In a voice low enough only you'd hear, he said, "I have the ring at home. I'm taking you to dinner this weekend. Your favorite place. Our favorite table there. Have them slip it into your favorite dessert. Hope with everything in me that you'll say yes."

"You got Jack's blessing?"

He nodded. "He helped me pick out the ring. Even told me it took me long enough."

Laughter spilled out of you at that. Leave it to Jack Hotchner to know what he wanted before his father did. It heartened you to know that Jack cared about you that much as you cared about him just the same. You'd do anything for Jack, including stepping aside if he didn't want you in his or his father's life anymore.

Meeting his gaze, you found yourself getting lost in the love he so freely expressed in his gaze. It was enough to have your breath catching. His love for you hadn't been a secret for several months now, but every time he looked at you like that, you always lost your breath. How could you not when you had a man like Aaron Hotchner?

"What do you think?" he asked after a moment too long in silence. "Bad idea?"

You shook your head. It took several rapid blinks to get your emotions back under control. One of your dreams was coming true even if it was going to be another couple of days. You could wait. You would wait forever if it mean a lifetime with Aaron and with Jack.

"No, no," you said, swallowing down the lump that had risen, "it's a very good idea. The best idea you've ever had."

"So, you'll say yes?"

Happiness swelled within you, but you tempered it. No reason to not tease him for a moment after the incredibly sweet bombshell he'd dropped on you. Your eyes were surely twinkling as you said, "Guess you'll have to wait until this weekend to find out. Though, I'm certain the odds will be in your favor."

"You're going to keep me on my toes, aren't you, honey?"

"Always."

He pressed a kiss to your hair again as he whispered, "Good."

[flowershines]

Loving You

fwb! Yang Jungwon x F!reader

Summary: Being friends with benefits with the character went smoothly for a couple of months till you both broke a rule of having an attachment to each other.

Warnings: Smut, switch! won, overstimulation, fwb, fluff, choking, riding, nicknames, edging (lmk if i missed any)

“If you keep clenching like that around me i’m gonna fucking cum in you so hard.”

Grunts and moans filled the room around you, the man above you was no other than your best friend of a couple of years. See now the meaning of you two being friends was that if one was horny you would hit one another up and fuck, the more you fucked him the more you realized how you love the way he touches you, the way his teeth would nibble at your lips, his eyes would roll back even from the slightest bit of pleasure, how his eyes would always sparkle when he would cum, and the way his hands would rest on your waist as he slams into you.

“Fuck won keep going.” you moaned to him as you grinded up against him, causing his eyes to roll back. You could feel every vein on his cock hitting your insides in all the right places, being friends with him for a long time helped you to get to know each other’s bodies better. You knew all the tricks to make him cum within seconds and tricks that would make him last longer, he was always the guy that was to shy to talk to anyone so when you offered to fuck him you thought that he would get all shy and say no. But that was the complete opposite, it was like something inside of him turned on. He was acting like a complete different person, he would be all cocky about how well he is fucking you as the night went on and you both came down from your highs he was his shy self once again.

“You make me feel so good, you take me so well.” He rested his hand on your cheek as you nuzzled into his hand you looked into his brown eyes, you could stare into them forever. He was gorgeous, nice, sweet, handsome, and very kind. You loved how kind he was to others, sure he was shy but once you got to know him he is the sweetest person you could ever meet. You just hoped that you were the only one who sees him exposed and vulnerable like this, “Fuck get on top of me, I can’t hold back anymore and I don’t want to hurt you.” he held your hip and started to lift them you grabbed his wrists, “Hurt me.” he grabbed your hips and flipped over so now you were on his lap, “Don’t be fucking crazy Y/n, you know you can’t take it.” you looked him in the eyes “Try me.”

His hands that rested on your hips were now gripping desperately on your hips grabbing every free surface on your body, as he elevated you into the air by your hips and began to start aggressively thrusting up into you. You bent down your head so that way his shoulder was muffling your moans but them being loud enough for him to hear. “Don’t back out now, you were so confident let me hear how good I make you feel.” His free hand ran through your hair, which you always loved because no matter how hard this man is pounding into you he will always show some kind of affection and love for you. “M-my tu- turn.” You told him as your words were shaking from the stimulation he was creating, sitting up you pushed his knees down the best you can and rested your hands on his chest for support as you started to ride him like your life depended on it.

Your thighs started to shake from the pressure being put in your knees, he noticed your body’s reaction and laughed to himself “I thought you said you got this?” you nodded your head and continued to riding him “Is my baby struggling to much, need help?” you shook your head. “Don’t ‘baby’ me, i thought we agreed. No nicknames.” His hand snaked up to your chest playing with your breasts “But why, I can tell you like it and I know you love it when I call you princess as well.” he wasn’t wrong you loved it when he called you nicknames, but you knew if he did that you would constantly be reminded of him every time you hear someone say that certain name.

“See…” he pulled you closer to him till you could feel his shaky breath on your ear, “… you might say that you don’t like it but your body betrayed you.” his cock twitched inside you as he kissed your neck. Staying quiet was the best option right now, you wanted to show him who can be dominant but whenever you try to he always gets his way and ends up having you underneath him, taking his cock. “Nothing to say?” You sit back up and looked at him in the eyes, smirking at him as your hand ran along his nipples teasing them while your other hand traveled to around his neck putting slight pressure on him. A soft moan left his lips as his eyes turned from lewd dominant ones to now softer doe eyes, “Harder, fucking choke me Y/n.”

No matter how hard your legs were shaking you still gave it your all and continued to pleasure the man underneath you, your hand that is around his neck tightened while the other hand continues to flick, pinch, and pleasure his nipple. He was a mess, his eyes would sparkle, his cock would twitch very frequently, his hips would squirm beneath you, he would try and push his hips up only to be rejected which would push his cock in deeper to you, and every swear he could think of as well as noises would leave his lips with every bounce you took.

“F-fuck… pl-ease please.” You grabbed his chin and made him look up at you “Please what baby?” his eyes couldn’t say on you for very long, they would roll back, look anywhere but at you. “Why won’t you look at me?” He started to squirm underneath you, his hands moved to your hips and pushed you up. You were confused because he still wasn’t saying anything except for moans that fell from his lips, “Y/n, off.” being extremely confused you obeyed his request and got off of him and looked at him. His eyebrows were knitted together, his hand rushed to his cock and stroked it vigorously and now is when you realized that he was gonna cum. That was why he told you to get off, squirming beneath you, saying ‘please’, you grabbed his wrist and pulled it away from his cock. “Did you ask?”

He ignores you and used his other hand since you were still holding his other wrist, you grabbed the other one which made him whine from the loss of stimulation. “Please Y/n, g-gonna cum.” His cock started to twitch against his abdomen, “No, you didn’t ask and now your being stubborn.” he whined and squirmed “Y/n-n don-t do this, p-please.” you let go of one of his wrists and used one of your hands to hold on both of his wrists. With your free hand you brought it up to his chin making him look up at you “Bad boys get punished.” he shook his head “But i’m a good boy, your good boy.” you looked at him ‘tsk’. “Can I please cum.” “Fine, but i’m not letting go of your hands, find a way to cum.” He whined at you as he looked down at his cock while he is now purposely making it twitch against himself for some sort of release, “Feels good?” his eyes were still focused on his cock “Not as good as you do it.” precum leaked from the tip and left a string from his tip to his abdomen. “Want my help?”

He finally looked away and looked back at you “Please.” the desperation in his voice was clearer than ever, “To bad you were a bad boy earlier.” he was now focused back on his cock as his lip fell in between his teeth, his hair was a mess, the ones in the front stuck to his forehead from his sweat that fell down on his face. His hips rutted up against you as well as his head being thrown back, you looked down at him and see spurts of cum leave the tip of his cock. His lips failed to muffle his moans while they were still trapped in between his teeth. Falling down from his high you let go of his wrists, he started to relax into the pillows until you wrapped your hand around his cock. This surprised him making his body jump, he frantically tried to grab at your wrists to make you stop him from being overstimulated but failed as his body jolted. “Y/n-n no mm-m-ore.”

He mumbled, “See now if you really wanted me to stop we both know the word would have been said by now.” moans fell from his lips while he was still trying to have you let go of his cock, following his instructions you let go leaving his second orgasm to be high and dry. Whining was heard from the man next to you “I thought you wanted me to stop?” he mumbled incoherent words with a pout on his face, you grabbed him by the chin and placed a kiss on his lips. He held the back of your head pushing into the kids more, he mumbled something on your lips not being able to understand you pulled back “What’d you say?” he shook his head “Not important.” trying to pull you back into the kiss “If you said it than it is.” “It’s stupid just ignore it, kiss me please.” “It’s not stupid please just tell me I wanna know.” he sighed “If I tell you can you keep kissing me?” you nodded to him “Fine, I said that I wish you wouldn’t leave.” “Leave what?” you tilted your head “Me.” he looked down as he played with his fingers “I would never leave you, unless you wanted me to.” you comforted him as he looked up. “Your perfect.”

He pulled you back into the kiss and he had you laying down next to him, “Jungwon, I know we agreed on things being just us hooking up but I really need to get this off my chest and I totally understand if you don’t want to keep having sec after-” “Quit blabbing, just tell me.” he said smiling “I like you, a lot and I completely understand and respect if you don’t like me b-” his lips cut you off as they were now on yours. “I like you too, maybe even more. Promise to never leave me.” you nodded “Promise.”

[roturo]

✒ LOML ⋆⭒˚.⋆ (geto's version)

⋆⭒˚.⋆ sypnosis: You and Suguru Geto were once inseparable, bound by shared dreams and laughter. As time passed, the warmth of those days faded into distant echoes, leaving behind only the haunting traces of a love that once was. Feeling the touch of someone closer made you feel real again. But nothing lasts forever, right?

warnings: smut, unprocteted sex, angst, widow!reader, cult!geto suguru, mentions of ptsd, mentions of death, time passes, soulmate!geto suguru, reader x gojo satoru, mentions of past, let me know if i missed smt.

A/N: okay so, i just broke my back at dance but dw guys i just finished this request so i'll upload it, that means it’s npr— i dont know if yall will get my idea but i made a try, reblog and leave a comment for support !

The bell rang, reminding you how you felt once at the end of another day at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical School. Amid the crowd of other sorcerers streaming out of the classrooms, you and Suguru Geto stood out as high school sweethearts. You were inseparable, sharing laughs, secrets, and dreams of a future together. Your friends always snickered about when you would marry and have kids. Gojo claimed he would love to see a mini version of yourself and… well, his best friend.

Years passed, and true to the bets, you and Suguru were married in a small, intimate ceremony surrounded by friends and loved ones. The months that followed were filled with joy and love, building a life together that you had once only dreamed of.

But life has a way of taking unexpected turns. As Suguru delved deeper into the world of curses and his cursed technique, his views began to shift. He started to question the very fabric of the world, why he should risk his life to save his and yours, just because of some dumb curses humans create by bringing evil into this world.

"Suguru, what's happening to you?" you asked one evening, your voice stern with concern. He had been distant lately, his once warm eyes now cold and calculating.

"I'm becoming something greater," he replied, his tone flat and emotionless but his face was displaying a sophisticated smirk. "A savior for the sorcerers of this world."

"W-what do you mean?" you asked. "What about the plans we made before getting married?"

Suguru turned to you, a flicker of the old him flashing in his eyes at the memories before it disappeared with a tilt of his head to the side. "We were just kids, babe," he said, almost dismissively with a smile. "Those were dreams of a different time. Ever since I stopped relating to the jujutsu society and more with people of our kind, I finally understand the real meaning of this world and us in it."

“I don’t mind, it takes time, Suguru.”

“You and I went from one kiss to getting married and you think I wouldn’t do this for our world? Our kind? For us?!”

His words cut deep, a painful reminder of the widening chasm between you. Despite your attempts to reach him, Suguru continued down his dark path, growing more entangled in his cult and his delusions of grandeur. The man you had fallen in love with seemed to vanish, replaced by a stranger who saw himself as a legendary figure, destined to reshape the world.

One night, after another heated argument, you woke up startled from another bad dream. He stood before you, a shadow of his former self. "I'm doing this for us, for a better world," he insisted.

He used to think you were better safe than starry-eyed. But you have never felt aglow—never before and never since.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face unconsciously. "No, Suguru. You're doing this for yourself. You're not the man I married."

He paused, looking at you with a mixture of anger and sadness. "Maybe you're right. But it's too late to change now."

The anguish in his voice was almost too much to bear. You reached out, hoping to find a trace of the boy you once knew, but you couldn’t touch him, every time he felt even farther away from you.

"Suguru, please," you whispered, your voice breaking. "We can still fix this. We can go back to how things were."

He shook his head slowly. "No, we can't. We've come too far. But remember what I said last time? I will never let this get in the way of yo—of us. You’re the love of my life.”

His words echoed in the empty space between you, a final, bitter nail in the coffin of your once bright future. As you blinked and gained full consciousness after waking up, you felt a part of yourself break, knowing that the man you loved was lost to a darkness you couldn't understand or see.

And yet, here you were, standing alone in the ruins of what once was, clutching the shards of a dream that had shattered beyond repair. The emptiness inside you grew, consuming the remnants of hope you clung to, leaving behind an ache that seemed to echo in the hollow spaces of your heart.

He was gone, but his ghost lingered, a painful reminder of the love that was and the love that could never be again.

He wasn’t there anymore, was he?

Holy ghost, he told you he was the love of your life. 

About a million times.

Years later, as you stood alone in the quiet of your home, now a dorm back in the school buildings as you decided to work for those sorcerers who started feeling like your loved one, you reflected on the boy you had once loved and the man he had become. The memories of your high school days seemed like a distant dream, a time when you were just kids, full of hope and promise.

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Your breaths and moans mingled, hot and desperate, as Gojo's lips traced a path down your neck while humping his hard cock on the slippery sweet cunt of yours. His touch was familiar, yet foreign, as if you were trying to grasp a memory that slipped through your fingers like sand.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be swept away in the moment. You could feel Gojo's need in the way he whispered your name, like he was asking for permission for something, or… someone. His voice, usually so confident and teasing, held a whine that made your heart ache with a confusing blend of longing and sorrow.

His hands roamed over your body with a practiced ease, yet every touch felt like a plea, a silent question of whether this could ever be enough. His lips traced familiar paths down your neck and across your collarbone, igniting sparks that threatened to consume you whole. 

Once he finally thrust inside you, both of you moaned out loud and made you open your eyes with a blurry sight, contemplating his dark hair falling on your face while he moved within you. A feeling of completeness invaded your tummy as you whimpered when he touched that spot inside of you.

“Please,” you whispered, but it sounded like a desperate call to the ghost of your past. The reality of the present and the memory of the past blurred, creating a disorienting whirlpool of emotions. “I got it baby… just– Mhm-I”  The touch felt so good and… right. You lost yourself in the feeling as tears started drowning your eyes in a mix of emotions.

Gojo's grip tightened as he felt your tears, his whispered name of yours almost a chant, a plea wrapped in longing and regret. The confusion of your feelings deepened—did he really say your name?

You looked back at him, his cold but reassuring black purplish eyes invading the light coming from the lamp as it was the only thing that shined for you. The way his hair fell, the curve of his lips as he groaned, it all felt too familiar and too alien at once. Your climax and his were getting closer, moans escalating in volume as you both sought a release that felt more like an escape.

When your impressionist paintings of Heaven turned out to be fakes, it was as if the vibrant colors of your love had faded into a monochrome nightmare. You had been sold a get-love-quick scheme, and the ink bled into a mess of confusion and heartache.

As you finally reached your high with a shared kiss, Gojo cleaned you up in silence and gave you a water bottle. It was over. You lay there, entwined in Gojo’s arms, feeling his hair cover a part of his chest as you leaned down your head on it.

When you woke up, the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room. You were naked, tangled in the sheets, Gojo's arm still draped over you. The events of the night before replayed in your mind, and the stark reality hit you like a punch to the gut. It hadn't been him; it was never him.

You had been digging up the past, trying to revive a love that was long dead. The realization washed over you, cold and unforgiving. You should've let it stay buried. The feelings you were trying to resurrect were entombed with the boy you once loved, and no amount of closeness with Gojo could bring them back to life.

The night had been a cruel reminder that some ghosts could never be laid to rest, and the void left by his absence was one that Gojo could never fill.

As you stared out at the morning light coming through the window, you knew that you had to find a way to move forward, even if it meant leaving the past behind. The touch of Gojo's arms around you, once comforting, now felt like chains binding you to memories you could never escape. The warmth of his body next to yours only highlighted the cold emptiness within, a void that grew larger with every passing moment.

The room, now bathed in the soft glow of dawn, felt like a cage. Each shadow seemed to whisper the name of the boy you had lost, each ray of light a painful reminder of a future that would never be. You could still feel the echo of his touch on your skin, a ghostly caress that lingered long after the night had ended.

Gojo stirred beside you, his arm tightening around your waist in a sleepy embrace. You glanced back at him, his serene expression a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. He had tried to fill the void, to be the light in your darkness, but the shadows of the past were too strong, too overwhelming.

You gently extricated yourself from his grasp, moving silently to avoid waking him. As you stood by the window, the first rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds, you felt a tear slip down your cheek. It was a tear for the love you had lost, for the boy who had once been your world, and for the man who now lay beside you, trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered heart.

The realization was stark and unforgiving: no matter how much you tried to move forward, the past would always be a part of you, a haunting reminder of what could have been. And as the morning light washed over you, you knew that the journey ahead would be long and painful, but it was a path you had to walk alone.

With a deep breath, you turned away from the window, determination settling in your heart. The ghosts of the past would always linger, but you had to find a way to live with them, to find peace in the midst of the storm. And maybe, just maybe, you would find a way to heal.

“Suguru,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, “promise me something.”

Suguru’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his eyes reflecting the last rays of the setting sun. “Anything,” he replied, his tone sincere and tender.

“Promise me you’ll never put anyone or anything above us,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “That we’ll always come first.”

Suguru took your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’ll never leave,” he said, his voice unwavering. “Nothing and no one will ever come between us. You’re my everything.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, his words wrapping around your heart like a protective shield. His lips curved into a gentle smile, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I promise,” he murmured. “I’ll always be here for you. We’re in this together.”

The moment felt eternal, a promise etched in the quiet of the twilight. As you nestled against him, the world outside seemed to vanish, leaving only the certainty of Suguru’s words and the warmth of his embrace. You closed your eyes, letting the peaceful promise settle deep within you, trusting that no matter what challenges lay ahead, his commitment would remain steadfast.

In that perfect, fleeting moment, you believed with all your heart that Suguru’s promise was unbreakable.

The memories of his promises, once a source of solace, now felt like daggers, each one twisting deeper into your heart. “I’ll never leave,” he had promised. And yet, here you were, alone, with the emptiness where his presence used to be. The truth was inescapable: Suguru had left, and his promises had been nothing more than comforting words, hollow and unfulfilled.

The room seemed to close in on you, the silence amplifying the ache in your chest. You could still feel the ghost of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, but it was all a cruel illusion, a mirage that had vanished with his departure. “Never mind,” you said to yourself in a breathless chuckle, trying to hide the pain your chest felt, the realization hitting you with a cold, harsh clarity. All those promises were just words—a fleeting comfort that had crumbled to dust.

You buried your face in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks, each one a testament to the love you had lost. The future you had once envisioned with Suguru was nothing more than a shattered dream, a vision that had dissolved into the stark reality of his absence.

The pain was almost unbearable, the weight of his betrayal settling heavily on your shoulders. You had been left to pick up the pieces, to grapple with the knowledge that the love you had cherished was now a ghost of the past. And as the darkness of the room closed in around you, you knew that the journey to heal from this loss would be long and fraught with heartache.

In the silence of the night, you felt the full force of Suguru’s absence, a painful truth settled within you with the weight of an unbearable burden. “Shit,” you whispered to the empty room, the words trembling on your lips as if they carried the weight of a thousand broken dreams. The room seemed to absorb your sorrow, its silence amplifying the ache in your heart. Each breath felt labored, the air thick with the heavy, oppressive realization of Suguru’s absence.

The absence of his presence was like a gaping wound that no amount of time or consolation could ever heal. His laughter, once so familiar and comforting, was now a distant echo that haunted the corners of your mind. The love you had cherished, so vibrant and full of promise, was now a ghostly whisper, a reminder of what once was but could never be again. The memories, once a source of warmth, now felt like cold, unyielding shadows that only deepened the chasm within you.

The pain was almost unbearable, each moment a torment as you faced the stark reality of Suguru’s departure. The void he left behind was a vast and insurmountable chasm, a darkness that seemed to stretch on endlessly. It was a wound so profound that no amount of time or effort could ever hope to mend it. You tried to imagine a future without him, but every thought seemed to fall short, every hope tarnished by the cruel reality of his absence.

No matter how hard you tried, you knew that the echoes of your shared past would never fully fade. The journey ahead would be marked by the persistent shadow of what you had lost. Each step forward felt weighed down by the remnants of Suguru’s memory, a constant reminder of the love that had slipped through your fingers like sand. The future you once envisioned, full of hope and promise, was now a mirage, forever out of reach.

As the darkness of the room closed in around you, you felt the full force of Suguru’s absence. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the warmth and intimacy that once defined your life together. The realization that the loss of him was a scar that would remain with you forever settled heavily upon you. It was a mark that no amount of time or healing could ever truly erase, a reminder that some wounds are too deep, too profound, to ever be fully healed.

In the quiet of the night, with the shadows stretching long and dark, you felt the weight of Suguru’s absence more acutely than ever. The pain was a constant companion, a relentless reminder of the love that had once been your everything but was now a haunting, unending loss. The room, filled with the echoes of what once was, bore witness to the depth of your grief, a silent testament to the enduring impact of Suguru’s departure on your heart and soul.

And as you sat in the suffocating silence, grappling with the emptiness that had consumed your world, you could only utter one final, heart-wrenching truth: “You’re the loss of my life.”

[universefcb]

Getting matching tattoos with Marc Bernal 🤎

↬❥ Forever on the skin

Marc Bernal x Reader!fem

Synopsis: You were sitting on the couch and he had the idea of getting couple tattoos.

a/n: Marc is underage and has a tattoo and my father is forbidding me from having a boyfriend 🙄

REQUESTED

warnings: no

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

The idea came to you one afternoon, amidst laughter and carefree conversation on the couch in Marc's apartment. You were lying with your legs on top of his, fiddling with your phone, while he absentmindedly ran his fingers down your arm.

“You know what would be cool?” Marc asked, interrupting the comfortable silence.

You looked away from the screen and arched an eyebrow.

"What?"

He smiled sideways, that smile that always made her heart race.

“Get tattoos together.”

His heart skipped a beat.

“Matching tattoos?”

“Yes. Something small but meaningful,” he explained, his eyes shining with excitement. “Like a symbol of ours, something that represents us.”

The idea took you by surprise, but at the same time, it didn’t seem so far-fetched. You and Marc had been together long enough to know that this wasn’t a passing thing. And if you were going to mark your skin with something, make sure it was something that really mattered.

“And what do you have in mind?” you asked, resting your chin on your hand.

Marc thought for a few seconds, then picked up his phone and started looking for inspiration. He turned the screen to you.

“Something like that.”

You looked closely at the image. It was a minimalist drawing of a small lightning bolt. Simple, understated, yet full of meaning.

“A lightning bolt?”

“Yes. Because you are like a bolt of lightning in my life. You came out of nowhere and changed everything,” he said, his voice full of affection.

Your face heated up, and you looked away, smiling.

“That was cheesy,” you joked, giving him a light slap on the arm.

Marc laughed.

“But did you like the idea?”

You looked at him and then back at your phone screen. Tattoos were permanent, but your love for Marc seemed to be too.

“I liked it. Let’s do it.”

The smile that appeared on his face made any doubts you might have had worth it.

The tattoo parlor had a modern yet cozy feel. Art prints lined the walls, and the background music helped create a relaxing atmosphere. You wanted to relax, but your stomach was in knots.

“Last chance to give up,” Marc joked beside him, a teasing smile on his lips.

You huffed, crossing your arms.

"I will not give up!"

“Then why are you pale?”

You rolled your eyes, but the truth was that you were nervous. You had never gotten a tattoo before, and even though everyone said it didn’t hurt that much, the idea of a needle piercing your skin over and over again didn’t sound very exciting.

The tattoo artist, a friendly guy named Alex, invited you to sit in the chairs.

“Who goes first?” he asked, readying the machine.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Marc was quicker.

“me!”

Of course he wanted to go first. He looked relaxed, sitting there like he was about to do something as simple as getting a haircut. You watched as Alex positioned the little lightning bolt stencil on his arm and began tattooing.

Marc didn't even move.

“It doesn’t even hurt that much,” he commented, looking at you with a smirk.

You narrowed your eyes.

“Easy to say. You play football, you must be used to pain.”

“You’ll get it right” he winked at you.

You weren't so sure.

When it was his turn, he sat down in the chair with sweaty hands. Alex positioned the stencil in the same place Marc had made his, only on his arm.

“Ready?”

" I think so…"

The machine began to vibrate, and the moment the needle touched your skin, you knew for sure: it hurt much more than you imagined.

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed, squinting your eyes.

Marc chuckled softly beside her, but quickly took her hand.

“Breathe, love,” he said softly.

You squeezed his hand tightly.

“You lied! You said it didn’t hurt that much!”

“I just didn’t want to scare you,” he replied, holding back a laugh. “But you’re doing fine, I promise.”

You opened one eye and stared at him.

“Are you lying again?”

“Maybe a little.”

You tightened your grip on his hand, and Marc made an exaggerated grimace.

“Okay, okay! Feel free to squeeze. I’m strong, I can handle it.”

Despite the pain, you laughed. Having him there, holding your hand and distracting you, made everything seem a little easier.

After a few minutes—which felt like hours—Alex finished the tattoo. You let out a sigh of relief.

“There you go,” the tattoo artist said, cleaning the skin and placing the protective plastic on it.

You looked at the little lightning bolt on your arm and then at Marc's. They were perfect.

Marc came closer and kissed her forehead.

“Now, yes, officially marked by each other.”

You smiled, feeling your heart melt.

“It was worth the pain.”

He laced his fingers through hers and smiled.

“It was worth it because now you have something of mine on your skin.”

“And you have something of mine in yours.”

"Exactly."

And, as cliché as it sounded, at that moment you knew that nothing in the world could erase that.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @p4uul0vr @nngkay @meganesanchez @bymerinott @htpssgavi @luvvpedri