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celiababy · 2 months ago

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Ain't Right part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's the holiday season and Joel is a Scrooge.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, oral sex (m!receiving), SQUIRT, creampie, threats of violence, alcohol

Celia's note: uhm hello??? what the flip thank y'all sm for all the love on my first post!! I got so many requests to make a part 2 so dinner's ready y'all dig in!!!!

Read the first part! > part 1

Jackson looked so pretty this time of year. The Christmas lights, the snowmen, the comfy sweaters and chocolate chip cookies; you loved it all.

Especially gift-giving.

To you, there was really nothing better than seeing someone's face light up when they open a present.

This year, there was someone special you planned to go all out for.

It had been 3 days since Joel Miller fucked you in his house, on his bed.

You hadn't stopped replaying the moment in your mind, especially the part when he finished all over your stomach.

However, it just so happens that after those amazing thirty minutes, Joel was called away by Tommy.

He had to leave and do something that you weren't allowed to know about. Undoubtedly some dangerous mission that pained you to think about.

So your victory was short-lived.

But, like the gentleman he was, he walked you home and made sure you were okay before he left. You wanted to kiss him goodbye, but felt too nervous to do so.

You don't know why—he literally had his cock in you a few moments prior.

Yet you couldn't, and just had to watch him walk away.

Now, you haven't seen him in three days and were starting to get serious withdrawals. Whatever he was up to couldn't have come at a worse time.

You finally had the taste of his perfection, now he was gone, leaving you to deal with your desire alone.

You tried to preoccupy yourself with helping set up all the Christmas decorations around town as well as baking an absurd amount of treats.

You also managed to get him a little gift in the meantime, stuffing it in the cutest box with the prettiest wrapping paper.

God, you hoped he'd come back soon.

And luckily, he did!

You had heard from Maria that everyone had returned from their trip—safe and sound.

She had also told you that she was throwing a little Christmas get-together at her and Tommy's house to celebrate.

She was careful to mention that Joel would be in attendance.

So, that night, you whipped up your signature cinnamon apple recipe and put on your cutest outfit.

You topped it with some fuzzy reindeer antlers because you were in a very festive mood.

As you walked alone to Maria and Tommy's, you were freezing your ass off in your skirt and sweater. You wore tights with your skirt in hopes that it would help with the cold, but who were you kidding?

You didn't care, though. You just cared if Joel thought you looked pretty or not.

You pranced up the steps of their porch, letting yourself into the house and getting immediately bombarded by the hoard of people inside.

Maria made it seem like it was going to be a small thing, but the entire Jackson population seemed to be in her living room.

Thankfully, Tommy catches you come in and walks up to greet you. "Hey there stranger," He grins, looking down at the dish in your hands. "What you got there?"

"Brought desert," You chirp, handing it to him with a proud smile.

"Well well," He muses as he takes the glass container from you, looking it over with surprise. "Didn't think you could tie your own shoes, let alone bake anything."

You roll your eyes before scoffing. "You're just mad because I can tie my shoes and bake something before you can conjure a coherent thought."

Tommy fakes a wince before chuckling. "Alright, touché kid. We're gonna be playing charades in a little bit so stick around, alright?"

You nod, having absolutely no intention of 'sticking around' for charades. Tommy wanders off with your apples, finally giving you a moment to survey the party.

Obviously, you were looking for one person in particular.

You squeezed through all the crowds of people, scouring what felt like every room in the house.

But no dice.

Joel was nowhere to be found and sadness washes over you like a tidal wave.

Was he doing this on purpose?

Torturing you by depriving you of his presence? This was hell.

You plant yourself by the special eggnog and down several glasses to take the edge off.

You were tipsy in no time, it really didn't take much. It was like Maria just dumped an entire bottle of vodka in the bowl and splashed some milk in it. It was disgusting, really, but it was getting its job done.

As you hunched yourself over the bowl, someone tapped you on your shoulder.

You spin around, your hopes high.

"Joel!—Oh. Hi Connor." The disappointment you feel inside displays clearly in your tone.

You're now face to face with the boy who has been unsubtly trying to sleep with you for months.

"Hey there! You look fucking great tonight." He flirts, a smug grin on his face.

You grimace because you know he thinks he's so cool, even though you'd rather die than stand here with him right now.

"Thanks." You say flatly, turning back towards the eggnog and pouring yourself another glass. For some reason, Connor takes this as an invitation to step closer, now invading your space.

You don't even bother trying to hide your disgusted expression. His cologne is attacking your nostrils, and it doesn't even smell good.

"That skirt looks amazing on you." His eyes unabashedly drag along the skin of your legs, making you shiver in disgust. He takes it too far when his hand comes up to brush your arm.

"You come here with anyone?" He coos, leaning against the food table like he was hot shit or something.

You couldn't stand this douche. Just as you were about to tell him to fuck off or something, you feel someone looming over you.

"She did." A gruff voice comes from behind you, and you immediately recognize that it could only be one person.

You whip around, your face lighting up at the sight of Joel.

His expression is settled into a natural scowl, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at the boy in front of you both. Even though he looked scary as shit, he was so fucking hot.

You're instantly horny just at the sight of him.

Connor scoffs, looking between the two of you, but your eyes stayed glued to Joel.

"Really? Him? But he's like—an old man." Connor spits, which immediately earns a glare from you.

Just as you're about to cuss him out, Joel beats you to it.

"Walk away before this old man breaks your jaw." His voice is stern, not to be tested.

It makes your core tighten with need.

Hearing the threat that he assumes to be all too real, Connor doesn't waste time scurrying off.

You turn back towards Joel, a warm, relieved smile spreading across your face. “Hi,” You whisper, wanting to hug him so bad but holding yourself back because he wasn’t a big fan of PDA. “M'so glad you're back." You do, however, step closer into his personal bubble.

His face softens when he finally looks down at you, and you can almost swear you see his lips curling up into a smile.

"Yeah, me too, kid." He husks out, looking between you and the bowl of half-empty eggnog. "Enjoyin' yourself?" He asks with somewhat of a disappointed look on his face, clocking that you were a little tipsy.

"Now I am." You answer truthfully, beaming up at him. "Have you been here the whole time? I was looking for you earlier but I couldn't find you."

Joel shifted on his feet, sliding his hands in his pockets. "Just got here. Tommy was talkin' my ear off at the door." He explained, an exasperated look on his face.

You laughed and nodded, knowing you both shared that experience.

"Are you having a good time, though?" You ask, actually curious because he seemed like he would rather be anywhere else right now.

He shrugs, brushing a hand through his short hair. "This Christmas holiday crap is givin' me a fuckin' aneurysm." He huffs out with complete honestly, scratching the back of his neck.

"What? Really? Why?" The shock and bewilderment in your voice isn't lost on Joel.

He sighs out, knowing you're about to explain the magical spirit of the season or whatever.

"The blizzards, people spazzin' out over gifts, all 'cause some fat guy is coming down chimneys—s'all just ridiculous."

You want to giggle at how actually annoyed he sounded, but you hold it down.

Grouchy old man.

"I'd let you come down my chimney," you flirt, but then correct yourself. "I have let you come down my—"

Joel shoots you a glare, daring you to finish your sentence.

You know when to cut your losses, so you don't.

"Well, speaking of gifts," You start, rummaging in your bag to pull out your present for him. You hold it up, the pink wrapping paper making him cock an eyebrow. "Merry Christmas, Scrooge."

Joel feels an unfamiliar feeling swimming around in his stomach at the sight.

He slowly takes the box from you, looking at it like it was a puzzle.

He really wasn't expecting anything from you. But he supposed people who have had the other persons genitals inside them should probably give them something for Christmas.

He finds himself very pleasantly surprised.

After a moment, he finds something to say.

"Couldn't find some manlier wrapping paper?" He coughs, his voice low but it's obvious he's joking with you.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Just open it!"

Joel somewhat grins at your impatience but finally starts to open the box.

That grin drops off his face after he sees the contents, an immediate bittersweet feeling swelling in his chest.

You're watching his face so intently, so scared that he didn't like it based on his reaction.

Joel pulls out the watch from the box, clutching it tightly. He's not saying anything, so you hear yourself start to ramble.

"Do you like it? I just saw that the watch you wear is broken so I figured I'd get you a new one. If you don't like it I can take it back."

You're starting to crumble underneath the weight of his silence, anxiety bubbling in your gut. Just as you're about to ask him if he's okay, Joel finally looks back at you.

"S'real great. Thank you." His tone is genuine, you can tell he's telling the truth. But why does he look so pained?

"Of course." Your murmur, your eyes searching his. After a moment of silence, you clear your throat. "There's one more thing, actually."

Joel's shoulder slump. "You got me another present?" He asked tiredly, looking at you with disbelief.

A guilty smile paints your face before you gesture for Joel to follow you. "It's upstairs. C'mon."

He doesn't know how much more his heart could handle.

Reluctantly, he follows you up the stairs, wondering why you had a gift waiting for him in Tommy's guest bedroom.

You open the door and close it behind you both, purposefully not turning the lights on.

Joel walks into the center of the room, standing aimlessly and confused as to why you hadn’t flipped the light switch yet.

But then he hears the rustling of clothes and when you eventually turn the lights on, you're wearing nothing but a bra and panties.

His cock immediately gets hard.

"What do ya think you're doin'?" He whisper yells, trying to keep his eyes on your face but that proves to be impossible because your tits looked so good in lace.

"What? You don't like it? I bought it for you." You give him a 360 and he has to brace himself against the bed.

Fuck you looked good.

He sits down on the mattress, dragging a hand down his jaw in thought.

He's debating if he's really about to fuck you in his brother's house.

Why were you always making him go against his morals?

A few seconds of silence pass between the two of you before Joel snaps his eyes back to your figure.

"C'mere."

Got 'em.

You squeal excitedly before running over, slotting yourself between his legs and placing your hands on his shoulders.

In turn, his large hands come out to hold your hips, his gaze zeroing in on your perfect-looking cleavage that he was now eye-level with.

Just as he was about to slide his hands up to grope your breasts, you sink down to the floor.

Joel's puzzled as he watches you get on your knees, looking up at him with those mischievous eyes. He truly has no clue what you're up to, that is, until you bring your lips to the bulge in his jeans.

You place the softest kiss on his clothed hard-on, earning a groan from him.

Now he knows what you're trying to do.

He juts his hand out, holding you firm by your shoulder.

"You ain't gotta do that, sweetheart." Joel says softly, probably the softest you've ever heard him say anything.

Your body erupts in goosebumps when you hear the endearing pet name slip so effortlessly from his lips.

"I want to—been wanting to since, like, forever." You murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his inner thigh.

Joel wasn't sure what to think right now.

His past romantic experiences taught him that blowjobs were a hassle for women—something that they did only if they felt they had to.

But here you were, looking up at him with those wide eyes and wanting nothing more than his dick in your mouth.

You surprise him everyday.

His dick has literally never been harder, especially when you finally start unzipping his pants to let it spring free.

You gaze up at him again, waiting for his green light.

Joel had one hand white-knuckling the edge of the bed, while the other gently caressed the side of your head.

He offers a short nod of approval, already trying not to come just by the sight of his cock so close to your face.

You waste absolutely no time in grabbing the base of his dick with both hands, gingerly licking at his tip to warm him up.

Joel throws his head back, groaning at the feeling.

You tilt it up so you can drag your tongue all the way up his shaft, then bring your mouth down on his tip.

"Fuck," Joel curses, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before snapping back open, not being able to look away from you.

Tears are falling from your eyes the farther you go down on him, the sensation of his head poking the back of your throat was making you dizzy.

But you don't stop. You're eager to please.

Your hands pump at the length you can't reach, while your warm mouth and tongue swirl around him.

You're too good at this, and Joel knows he's not gonna last long.

He can't help it when his hand in your hair turns into a fist, tightly gripping the strands like he was afraid you might go somewhere.

You moan when he accidentally pulls your hair forwards, forcing you deep on his cock. You bet he didn't even realize what he just did, based on the way his chest was heaving and his face looked so lost in pleasure.

You gag and more tears spill from your eyes, but you don't even dream about lifting off. If Joel was getting off on this, you were going to do more of it.

You moan, still keeping his cock in your mouth as you try to go even deeper down on it.

"Oh fuck—" Joel suddenly yanks your mouth off his cock, breathing heavily as he stares down at you.

You cough and sputter at the loss, looking up at him with that same fucked out expression you had last time.

"Why?" You manage to whine, wondering why he stopped you before he came.

Joel doesn't answer—instead he picks you up by your armpits and places you on the bed.

The quick change almost gives you whiplash, but Joel's surprisingly steady and husky voice guides you.

"On your stomach, pretty girl." He mutters as he taps your leg in a gesturing manner.

...Was he trying to kill you with that bedroom voice of his?

A whimper crawls its way out of your throat, your body having an audible reaction to his sweet words.

You flip over onto your stomach, instantly arching your back for him.

Being the impatient man he was, he rips your panties and throws them to the side in a lust-driven blur.

You literally didn't even care. Sure, they were new, but you'd just find another pair. The only two thoughts in your mind right now was Joel and Joel's dick.

Something warm and soft prods at your entrance before slipping to wedge between your folds, gathering up your slick.

You try to push back on it, but Joel holds you still, making you lose the rest of the small amount of composure you had left.

"Joelpleasefuckme," You sob, your cunt weeping for his cock. "need you so bad it hurts,"

You reach back, your hand finding his that was holding your hip and squeezing it.

Joel didn't want to admit to himself how much he loved the neediness in your voice, your obvious desperation made him harder.

"M'gettin' there, don't gotta beg me baby." He mutters, his hand that you grabbed intertwining with your fingers. His other hand was rubbing circles in the skin around your hips.

You feel that same sensation of his tip, but then Joel also brings his chest down to engulf your back.

You're already trembling, but when he begins to pepper kisses down the nape of your neck and back, all while slowly sheathing himself inside your pussy...

You effectively lose your mind.

"OhFUCKJoelloveitsomuch," You blabber, not having enough strength to hold yourself up anymore so your head drops into a pillow, muffling your moans.

Effortlessly, he pulls you back up so that your back is flush with his chest, his one arm wrapped around your stomach to keep you secure.

You rest the back of your head on his shoulder as she starts rocking into you, letting your body go limp because you know he's got you.

"Can you take it or do I need'a stop?" He asks, his tone making you dizzier.

You frantically nod, turning your head to the side to look at him. "I can take it, promise I can," you muster out between moans. "please don't stop—want your cock in me forever-"

Joel chuckles.

God, he really never stood a chance against you.

"I don't know about forever sweet thing, but I'll see what I can do for tonight, yeah?"

You giggle airily, like you weren't all there, nodding your head in acknowledgement. Your eyes are closed for a second but you feel his lips on yours, hungrily taking whatever they wanted.

You passionately return his kiss, mewling into it because his lips paired with the slow thrust of his dick was enough to drive you crazy.

The stretch of his cock is as close to heaven as you're ever gonna get.

His speed picks up which means your moans get louder, and Joel has no choice put to bring his other hand up and cover your mouth.

There's still a party going on downstairs, after all.

"Gotta be quieter baby," he pants, even though he's not slowing down his speed at all.

You whine into his hand, surprisingly loving the feeling of it because it's like he's swallowing you whole.

You feel that tight coil in your stomach slowly start to come undone, and you know you won't last long now. You try to tell Joel, but his hand is muffling your noises.

All the sudden, he speaks in your ear—his voice low and raspy. "Don't want you doin' this with anyone else, hear me?"

...Well.

You weren't expecting that.

His words probably made you soak the sheets because of how wet you became.

He sounded so stern when he said it too, making your heart flutter even more.

You nod, tears pouring from your eyes. He lets his hand off your mouth for a moment and you immediately jump at the opportunity to speak.

"Only want you, only ever wanted you, Joel—m'all yours, always been yours," You mewl after gasping for air, your body jolting with each of his deep thrusts.

"Fuck," Joel swears, quickly but carefully putting you down only to flip you over onto your back. Now in missionary, he buries himself all the way inside you again before dropping down so your faces are centimeters apart. "All mine, huh?" Joel reiterates, and you can't tell if he's mocking you or maybe asking for clarification.

Probably the ladder.

You agree nonetheless, a string of yes's spilling from your mouth.

"Yeah, just for me." He pants, slamming into you with more vigor than before. Your cunt is constricting around him like a vice, he's—not planning to last much longer either.

"M'gonna cum," you whine, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support.

When Joel hears this, he drops a hand down to rub at your clit, making you come undone altogether.

"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck waitwait Joel-" You feel something..unique boiling, but then Joel's expert fingers release the flood gates.

You scream as you squirt all over his cock, your entire body writhing with the overstimulating pleasure.

Your juices soak him. When he see's this, he comes immediately.

He groans as he finishes inside you, unloading into your snug cunt. The feeling is incomparable for the both of you.

Once the haze of perfect pleasure dissipates, Joel realizes what he's just done.

"Shit," he grits, pulling out and watching his seed drip from your hole. "Fuck."

You manage to sit up on your elbows, looking up at him with teary eyes. "Don't worry," Your voice is quiet and cracked—you just had the squirt fucked out of you, after all. "I've been on the pill since we had sex the first time."

Joel looks down at you, stupefied.

Eventually, he feels his heart start beating again and huffs out a sigh of relief. "Thank christ." He leans back against the headboard, raking a hand through his hair and thinking about how that was a fucking close one.

You're lying next to him, still trying to catch your breath. "That felt so good," You manage to murmur, your body still shivering from the after shocks.

After you catch your breath, you turn your head to look up at him. "M'serious about what I said, about bein' yours."

He looks at you and your serious face for a moment, then brings his hand down to gently ruffle the top of your head.

"Yeah, I know you are." His texan drawl prominent.

"I'd let you brand me with a fire poker if thats what you wanted." You say flatly, no joking tone in your voice whatsoever.

Joel is taken back by the sudden jump in intensity, assessing you to make sure you were being for real.

You were, and when he realizes this, he shakes his head. "You've lost your damn mind." He grunts, dragging a hand down his face.

You shrug.

"I think a ring would do the trick." Joel mutters, not meaning for it to have some kind of underlying message or anything. But you're quick to jump to conclusions.

"A ring?" You squeal, moving to lay on his chest which earns a huff from him. "Didn't know we were already goin' steady like that, Miller!" You tease, the giddiest smile on your face.

"I didn't mean—quit. You know what I was sayin'." Joel grunts, looking at you with an unamused expression.

You don't quit though.

"My ring finger is a size 6, would love 2 carats but if you can swing for 3 that would be perfect—also, I hate silver bands, it has to be gold—but make sure it's not that super yellow fake gold, I like more rustic looks, I mean, if that wasn't obvious-" You cast him a glance, alluding to the fact that he was rustic looking.

Joel rolls his eyes before gently nudging you off him, getting off the bed and walking over to your clothes that you discarded a long time ago.

You continue rambling from your position on the sheets, staring up at the ceiling as you recited, in extreme detail, how you loved oval shaped diamonds the most.

He walks back over and manhandles you to sit up. "Lift up your arms." He mutters, putting your sweater back on you.

"Hm, gettin' some serious deja vu right now." You murmur, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, yeah, hush." He grumbles before sliding your tights and skirt back on as well.

The act is so kind and heartwarming. You mumble a thank you before standing up, almost falling back down because your legs were still a bit weak.

Joel made a motion like he would've caught you, reaching his arms out. "Careful." He warns, planting a hand on your lower back for stability. You giggle and nod, regaining your ability to walk slowly but surely.

You guys tried to discretely walk back down the stairs, but with Joel's hand on your back and your happy expression--it wasn't hard for people to guess what happened.

***

A couple days had passed since Tommy and Maria's party.

You were finishing up some hand-made Christmas cards on your desk when you heard a knock at your door.

"Coming!" You shout, leisurely making your way to the front door.

When you open it, no one's there. You look around, only seeing a familiar male figure walking away in the distance. When you step outside to shout after him, you feel yourself kick something.

Upon looking down, a small velvet box lays at your feet.

You pick it up carefully, opening it to reveal a gold ring placed so delicately inside. The small note inside reads:

Merry Christmas. -Scrooge

#smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #drabble #I need him so carnally

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kazuhaiku · 6 months ago

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love story

summary: kinich makes a surprise visit to fontaine and wants to spend the entire day with you, no excuses.

warnings: gender neutral reader, fluff, might be ooc kinich (it's just my interpretation on his personality as of now).

notes: silly little kinich fic as my first post >< reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

“kinich!” you exclaim from the hunters’ guild, a huge smile on your face as you see him walking towards you, a nonchalant look on his face as usual. “hey! i didn’t know you were visiting fontaine. you should have told me!”

“it wouldn’t be a surprise if i tell now would it?” kinich replies, ajaw beside him nodding in agreement. “what are you doing in the hunters’ guild? did you receive a new commission?”

“mhm,” you hum in reply. “lumine and paimon are taking a day off so i’m taking over their commissions for today!” you hand him the list of commissions that are currently available to do and you swear you can see a faint glint of disappointment in his eyes when he sees how many commissions there are to do. “i’m-”

“let me help.” kinich abruptly cuts you off. “you’ll get this finished faster when i’m helping. i’m allowed to help, right?” his eyes flicker over to katheryne who is smiling amusingly.

“yes of course, if that’s okay with y/n?” katheryne eyes you knowingly. despite katheryne being a robot, she has a clear understanding of the tension between you and kinich (a little too well, if you must say).

you clear your throat. “oh um- yeah of course you can help!” kinich smiles at your answer. he keeps the piece of paper containing the commission details inside his pocket.

“come on, no time to waste. we have lots of things to do today.” kinich exclaims almost excitedly, and you can’t help but wonder what plans he’s got for you today (because why else would he come all the way from natlan to fontaine?).

kinich indeed wasted no time because as soon as there was a fight, he jumped straight into it, killing the enemies almost instantly. before you know it, the commissions are all done hours before your predicted finish time.

kinich wipes the sweat away from his forehead, acting as if he didn’t just do all the commission for you. he turns around and gives you a big smile. “we’re done now, yeah? you’re finished with work?”

“um, yeah…” you stare at kinich as if he just ate a spider.

kinich tilts his head to the side. “what? why are you staring at me like that?”

“no it’s just,” you let out a small laugh, suddenly finding kinich’s actions a bit funny. “aren’t you acting a bit too… desperate?”

“d-desperate?” kinich stutters, a red hue filling his cheeks. “i don’t- i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

you raise your eyebrows. “really? so you did all my commissions in under ten minutes, used every single teleport waypoint instead of exploring the land like you always do, and made me watch you do the commissions instead of letting me help?”

kinich’s cheeks turn darker as you speak, and he immediately covers his face, as if his plan has been busted. “okay, you’re right. i’m… desperate.” he removes his hand from his face, pulling you into a tight hug. “i missed you so much, okay? my work lasted much longer than i had expected, and there was no time for me to write a letter to you.”

you can practically hear the pout in his voice. you gently pat his back, consoling him. “i missed you even more, kinich. how long has it been since we last met?”

“four weeks.” kinich says almost instantly.

you hum. kinich lets go of you, however, one of his hands is still holding one of yours tightly. he doesn’t say anything, and only focuses on caressing your hands, as if you are going to disappear when he lets go.

“kinich,” you call out, and his head whips up. “i’m not going anywhere.”

“i know, i’m sorry,” kinich sighs. “i had so many plans for us today but now i can’t even think of what we should do first.”

“well, considering i- we finish the list of commissions earlier than i had expected… why don’t we start from the top of the list?” you suggest. kinich’s eyes lit up, however, there is a glint of confusion behind it. “of course i know about the list. we’ve been dating for, what, four months now? i know you keep a list whenever we go out.”

kinich makes a sound of surprise and he lowers his head, slowly grabbing the piece of paper from his pocket. he hands it to you silently. “you know me too well, y/n.”

you smile, opening the paper. there aren’t many things on the paper, considering that he listed only five things; explore the court of fontaine, stop by the cafe there and have a nice little coffee date with y/n :), ride the aquabus (seems like fun), visit the opera epiclese, visit the chioriya boutique and gift y/n an outfit!

“wow…” you gasp in awe. “chioriya boutique? how’d you know i like her outfits?”

“remember the letter we last sent out to each other?” kinich asks and you nod. “well, you briefly mentioned her. how you love the outfits she makes and you made a little note on the side saying how you really want an outfit from her but you don’t have enough mora to buy one.”

“that- kinich that letter was probably sent a month ago! how do you still remember that?” you ask, surprised that he remembers the small detail.

kinich only smiles in response. “well, no time to explain. come on, let’s ride the aquabus! i’ve been dying to ride them ever since i got here.”

he pulls you and starts running, almost making you tumble. well, since he’s really excited, you can’t really complain. a happy kinich is a sight to behold.

#crys' writing ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ #kinich #kinich x reader #kinich x you #kinich x y/n #kinich genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact kinich #genshin impact fluff #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin fluff #genshin kinich

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unknownati · 20 days ago

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xiii. tap tap tap

a/n: im. Cooking. I swear

idk whether to finish my reqs first or my wips 😭 but lowkey i've been busy asf sorry 😞 i am slooowly chipping away at them

warnings/tags: no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features, gn!reader, sub!ekko, crop top, living my truth, orgasm denial, handjob, short bleghhh, unproofread THIS ENDING 😒

_______________________________________________

a small groan rumbles in ekko's chest as he leans over his workbench, papers scattered across the wood surface in a chaotic organization.

"ugh," ekko's head shook, nose scrunching in frustration. nothing was adding up—none of the math circled back to the main problem.

his z-drive got messed up in a fight, and the whole thing was completely off now. not being able to figure this stupid thing out had his forehead heating up, his fingers flicking his pencil between his fingers, a constant rapping against the table reminiscent to a clock ticking.

a whole room over, the sound made your ears twitch at the familiarity, your mind's attention shifting from the book you were reading to that consistent noise.

you've asked ekko many times to try to not make that noise—it's a distraction, gritting to your ears. each word you read gets replaced with a 'tap tap.'

you know the context behind that noise too—so why not help him fix it?

you peek into ekko's room, the tapping filling your ears more clearly. your presence is thick, even with your lack of noise, ekko realizes you're there. he gives you a small grunt of acknowledgment, no time to think about anything more.

your chin rests on his shoulder, palms running up and down his forearms. your eyes pass over the work he has, not a clue in the world what any of this means. what your eyes dart to instead was that pencil. still tapping. you hum. "what's wrong, baby?"

his nose scrunches and he sighs, shaking his head. "i just can't figure this out."

you let the sentence linger in the air, squeezing his shoulders, fingers slipping to kneed his biceps. "hmm...well, what are you tryna do?"

his lips form a line and then he opens his mouth, explaining the entire plan out to you with reasoning, showing you pictures, showing you evidence, everything. you weren't listening to a word.

"but the thing is, i tried both, and doing the first one leads me down a complete different road. and i'm wondering if it's because—"

"mhm," you hum as he continues speaking, your eyes trailing up his gesticulating arms, then down. his shirt was cropped, his midriff peeking out from the angle you were at. casually, both of your hands begin snaking down. they both stop at his waist. he doesn't notice—it's a regular occurrence. you're always touching the visible skin when he's wearing a crop top.

you couldn't lie, the sight was tantalizing. every time he reached up for something, the shirt would raise and give you a larger view of his abs. something about the crop top was so much better than seeing him shirtless.

it wasn't until your hand started creeping up his shirt that he fumbled over his words. "what are you doing?"

"nothing, sorry. keep talking."

he cleared his throat, stuttering for a moment but then getting back on track to his sentences. he asks something, some question related to the papers in front of him.

"hmm, well i dunno baby. talk me through it, what do you think?" you throw the ball right back into his court. good thing ekko likes talking, because he immediately had an answer for you, his mouth running once again.

you give half-hearted noises of acknowledgment between pauses in speech, meanwhile, the hand that wasn't up his shirt was slooowly making it's way down his pants. once you breached the band of his boxers, he stuttered again.

"what are you doing?" he re-asks, more emphasis on his words. you shake your head.

"focus on what you have to figure out, not on me."

he doesn't respond, zoning out as your fist closes around his dick. it's slowly growing in your hand, twitching at your touch. the hand up his shirt taps. "focus." you repeat.

"um," he groans, picking up the next sheet of paper. "i just think that—"

his sentence was cut short by a gasp, since you gave him no time to prepare himself, immediately starting to stroke him. he thinks he knows what game you're playing.

"think that...maybe i should try thinking about it the other...way around...i–f-fuck..." his sentence trails off, shaky breaths filling the air and ghosting around him. the tapping grows weak until it finally stops, wood clattering and rolling against the desk.

"you...?" you pick the sentence off where it ended, your wrist flicking rapidly. his knees feel weak— he leans his weight onto his palms, which rest against the edge of the table.

"god, i–i don't know. i can't focus with you doing that..."

you allow him a few more moments of bliss, and you can tell he's close. you're leading him right into your trap, moving faster,

"ah,"

faster,

"baby, please, i'm-"

faster,

"oh fuck,"

...then it's all gone. the tight coil in his tummy simply...crumbled rather than unraveling. he almost collapses, arms wobbling to hold himself up on the desk.

"that's how i feel when you tap that pencil."

before he can even process his confusion, you're out the room, door shutting behind you.

maybe an unconventional approach—but you never heard that tapping again.

#arcane x reader #ekko x reader #ekko x you #arcane ekko #arcane x you #arcane smut #arcane x reader smut #ekko smut #ekko x fem reader #ekko x male reader

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e1dritchjackal0pe · 1 year ago

Text

𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔮𝔲𝔢 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰

Summary: Your relationship with Farleigh Start has always precariously walked the line between friends and enemies for years.

But maybe there's something else there, too.

Warnings: 18+ content; MDI. AFAB, Oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex (this is fiction, please use protection in rl), hints at s and d dynamics; brief, barely there choking, outdoor/technically public sex. Sex while under the influence (takes place during Oliver's party, so drugs for Farleigh and alcohol for the reader). Farleigh being an a*s, but what's new. Reader is American. Heavy denial of feelings in the beginning.

Notes: 14.6 k words. There is an abhorrent lack of Farleigh content on this site, so I thought I'd contribute. Not proofread, divider by @saradika-graphics

𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖎𝖎 - 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦𝔦

Honestly, it's a wonder how you always manage to forget the sheer opulence of the Saltburn Estate - even when it wasn't in the throes of a celebration that costs more than your yearly salary. It's like some sort of dream almost. While you're in it the details are all startingly intense. Overbearingly so. Flaunting in front of you with all of its details and sights; like a kaleidoscope. The memories never do the estate any true justice. The soft, rolling lush fields; the crystal blue skies that loom over the tall gray spires. It's all painted behind your eyelids with a haunting clarity. But as soon as you leave - as soon as you wake up - the entire experience never truly feels real. Bits and pieces slip through your fingers. It loses its tangibility somehow and you can't help but wonder if you had imaged the whole thing, even with Felix's number programed into your phone; a physical reminder that Saltburn is indeed a real, tactile place.

But even here tonight, while walking the halls and strolling through the courtyard, it doesn't feel like reality. It seems as though you've stepped into a fever dream, crossed some imaginary threshold and entered some mirroring realm. The air is charged. Electrifying. And you swear you could feel the magnetic net of adrenaline and excitement prickling at your fingertips. A cocktail of emotions amplified by alcohol and drugs and endorphins.

Everywhere you looked there were jovial, writhing bodies. People dancing and laughing. Some full on making out - and others dangerously close to toeing the line of having public sex - and others were having a less enjoyable time by collapsing in exhaustion or blacking out in an inebriated haze. One unfortunate soul had thrown up all over the floor boards of the foyer, and you had just narrowly missed being sprayed by the projectile vomit as you had passed. It was like the Exorcist.

Thank God it hadn't been on one of the Persian rugs.

It was someone's birthday, it seemed. A little impromptu. Not initially planned. Oliver's - at least that's what you believed it was. The same Oliver that Felix had mentioned during one of your phone calls. He had spoken of him fondly, but when Felix had rushed outside this evening to greet you from your taxi and help you gather up your bags, he had seemed less interested and even a little irritated in the mention of his newest companion - or as harsh as it sounds, charity case (he seems to have a new one each summer). And he had been quick to divert your line of questioning, stopping you with a somewhat curt, "he's just a friend from Oxford. That's all." And that was that. You knew not to press him over it.

But your time with Felix was cut short when he was pulled aside by an excited Elspeth, who had spared you a quick glance and a "hello, darling," before eagerly trying to get his advice on the party preparations. Which he didn't seem particularly enthused about being dragged into. And it left you to stand awkwardly on your on in the middle of the foyer, trying to force your bleary eyes open. Jet lagged with your will to live paper thin from only having a rough five hours of sleep to back it up. And for a moment you had feared that you might actually pass out on your feet but luckily Venetia had sought you out and saved you from feeling too awkward amongst the others. Occupying the time by gossiping and interrogating you about your time back in the States. All of which, you had confessed have been rather boring. Filled with exams and dead-end dates and careless flings. And even though the initial arrival always leaves you feeling like a fish out of water, you were thankful to have been invited back over to Saltburn. The sprawling, golden fields and fresh crisp air always a welcome reprieve from the loud, chaotic clamoring and the smog blanketed horizon of Los Angeles.

Even though the wild, scattered throng of sweating bodies that were bumping into you honestly weren't all that different from the clubs you frequent back home. Of course, the sheer show of wealth and splendor that had been rolled out for Oliver was nothing that you had ever seen before with the only thing to rival it (and surpass it, probably) being Felix's very own birthday party that you had been able to take part of a few years back. One that had been themed after a strange but no less entertaining amalgamation of cowboys, space and disco, and the costumes and decorations then had left you in a state of awe, much like tonight.

Everywhere you looked there was something else to gawk at. Glittering lights, a hired contortionist and at one point you had even seen a swan rush past you out on the courtyard - which you had only felt sad and a little angry for.

It was pure, unbridled pandemonium. Noisy and cloying with the scent of perfumes and marijuana and alcohol; and you couldn't escape it. Not even when you had gone outside to take advantage of the dark, balmy summer breeze to cleanse your lungs. And everything had been going well until a drunk man had lunged out of the crowd towards you. Wobbling on his feet with a loud wail akin to a war cry as he aimed a narrow tube directly at you. And you only had a fleeting second to wish that it was one of those party canisters full of tensile when he had set it off with a loud pop! And a large, shimmering cloud of glitter had burst over you like a mist, layering across your hair, and costume and skin like a sheen of sweat. You didn't even have time to yell at him before he was scurrying off into the crowd with a demented cackle, probably on his way to find some other unfortunate person to glitter bomb.

And even worse a quick glance downward had revealed that the drink in your champagne glass had been tainted by a thin coat of sparkling silver. Even if you wanted to be lazy and drink around the floaters, the amount drifting around in the champagne was too much. You probably would have ended up choking on all of it. It was with a defeated sigh that you tossed out the remainder of your drink onto the trampled lawn.

For the first time tonight you're actually thankful that Venetia had chosen to leave you for some tall, dark, and handsome stranger that she had met near the beginning of the party. You hadn't seen her since, but maybe it's a blessing in disguise. You would hate for her to see the state of her dress. It is just glitter, easy to wash off in the grand scheme of things, and too be fair she had said that she didn't even like the garment. It was just some random piece from another one of the Catton's wild parties - themed after Renaissance art and fables, you think. And she had sifted it out from the depths of her closet with little fanfare. "It's just some old thing, " she had told you plainly, even though the dress probably cost more than your monthly rent. Clearly, she wouldn't be distressed over some glitter, but you were still having a hard time fighting the sinking feeling in your gut. It was borrowed. She was letting you wear it. And now it was covered in a dust of silver because some guy decided to be a dick.

It could be worse though. It could have been a glass full of wine that he had dunked on you instead. You suppose you should take your wins where you could get them.

A part of you thinks about returning inside the manor and calling it a night. Taking a much-needed bath to clean off the layer of glitter from your skin and just going to bed. But really, you aren't sure if you'll even be able to manage falling asleep with the sheer volume of the music playing throughout various sections of the house, and the sound of the raucous cheering and laughter. And you could imagine what Venetia or Felix would tell you, to quit being so reclusive and to get out and socialize.

You did fly all the way over here. Planned this trip for a few weeks and made preparations with your job and roommate when Felix had called to invite you over for the summer. It would be a complete waste to turn in for the night and huddle yourself up in your quarters.

And with the fog of alcohol draping over your body you know you should probably put a pause on it for a bit but fuck it, it's a party and you need another drink.

You glance around the courtyard, hoping to spy one of that servants that have been forced to parade platers of alcohol around for the many guests but all you see are the scattered throngs of people dressed in fairy wings, strange animal masks, and plastic swords. Honestly, it never amazes you how many people get invited to these events. Even with all of the family members combined, there's no way they all know every individual here directly. There's probably enough to fill a damn stadium.

In your search your gaze sweeps over the steady bonfires, the temporary lovers grinding against each other and a pair talking amongst themselves - wait. That catches your attention. You feel heat prickling at your chest; irritation rising in some subconscious sort of reaction and as if they have a mind of their own your eyes skitter back over to them to confirm if what you thought you saw was true. And lo and behold, there he is. The bane of your existence. Farleigh Start.

Your eyes flicker across him from his head to his old-fashioned boots. He's holding some sort of mask in one of his hands. A big bulky thing with long protruding ears and an equine shaped face and you have to squint to come to the concussion that it appears to be a donkey.

He seems to be talking to someone. A person that you don't recognize but they both seemed to be engaged in some sort of heated stare off from near a rotating pig on a stick. It looks like he's found another unfortunate victim to prod at and humiliate. Not that it was difficult for Farleigh. He was always eager to find someone to harass and belittle. And the more that someone fought back, the more interested he seems to become. He's been a personal thorn in your side for longer than you'd like to admit.

Of course, you knew he would be here, but that didn't necessarily mean that actually seeing him made it any easier. It had to have close to a year since you've last interacted with him, which had to have been during that awful Christmas party back in the States. Why Graham had invited both of you when he knew that neither of you get along is a mystery. It could have been some lame attempt to get two of his closest friends to finally clear up whatever animosity was between them, but in all actuality it had just made worse. All of the passive aggressive barbs and thinly veiled sneers had nearly reached a boiling point that night when Farleigh wouldn't just leave you alone. Seeming to make it his mission to antagonize you at every turn with childish insults. But as childish as they might have been, they added up over time until you were giving him what he wanted, lashing out in response to his nasty little comments.

And to think at one point you had actually been excited to meet him. As Graham's close friend and roommate, you were interested in getting to know the guy that he couldn't stop gushing about. The one who he had praised nearly nonstop. Farleigh had been nice enough in the beginning. And you even enjoyed his company for a time. His humor had always been a bit snarky, and the jokes he told were usually at another's expense. But he had been - as much as you hate to admit it, fun. And at one point, you had even considered him a friend of sorts. Or at the very least an acquaintance whose company you enjoyed while you both rambled on about nothing and everything, often gossiping about others.

It had all been fine between you. That was until Felix had come down to L.A. to visit. He had gone out with Farleigh and Graham to go and sightseeing, which eventually steered into hopping from club to club as the day wanned into night. And when the invitation had extended to you, your relationship with Farleigh had taken a turn. For whatever reason talking to Felix was easy. But that was just Felix you suppose; always able to make friends with just about anyone in the room. And the closer that the two of you had become, the more strained your association with Farleigh had grown until it was filled with nothing but sardonic remarks and passive hostility. And instead of being a sort of surface level confidant, he gradually became a presence that you detested. And your relationship had gone from a mutual respect and cordial conversations to some sort of strange cat and mouse game. The both of you exchanging snarky jabs in an attempt to see if the other would crack.

You would be lying if you didn't admit that some part of you enjoyed your little spats. And maybe you had hoped that he would be here tonight. Not that you'd ever tell him that. You'd rather trip onto the sharp end of a knife.

Suddenly Farleigh is stepping towards the stranger, shoulders rigid and body pulled taught, seeping with irritation. And he takes ahold of their face, forcing the shorter man to look into his eyes in some sort of intimidation tactic. Farleigh's nearly seething. And his expression is firm with an apparent frustration. You don't think you've seen him so visibly aggravated before. You can't help but wonder what the mystery guy may have done to warrant such a response from him.

And then Farleigh is pulling away, releasing the stranger from his grip with a smug smile. But on him it looks more like a sneer with the way his lips are stretched and showing off his teeth. He's moving towards your direction now, probably intending to head back to the house, and he's yet to notice you. You contemplate leaving. Of slipping back under the cover of the scattered crowd and disappearing before he sees you, but your body doesn't move. Instead, you're stock still. There's some awful feeling in your gut that seems horrendously akin to anticipation; fluttering and soft and nauseating.

You should just leave. You could leave if you'd just move. But it's too late. You swear there's some awful full body reaction that occurs when Farleigh's gaze meets yours and he stops in place to assess you. For a moment it's like you've been sucked into a black hole. It's like time has dilated and shrunk down around you until it's frozen solid and suddenly the lively chaos around you falls quiet, muffling down into an insignificant hum in the background. Recognition flickers in his eyes and something else crosses his face too. Something that you don't quite recognize but regardless, it feels as though the both of you are engaged in some sort of wordless exchange. There's another smile growing on his face. It's mischievous but still much more relaxed and familiar than the previous one that he had worn, and you can't help but return one of your own.

It's then that you're finally able to gain control of your own body, walking backward a few steps before you twist around to slip amongst a gaggle of passing girls with something that is suspiciously close to excitement bubbling in your gut. You briefly use them as cover to get you closer to the house entrance, and they're all too occupied with giggling and gossiping to notice your presence. But you're able to remove yourself from the cluster when one of them drunkenly trips on her skirt, and she saves herself by latching onto the shoulder of one of her friends with a wild laugh. The others all gather around her to jokingly reprimand her as they assist her in righting herself but you're already stepping through the back threshold of the manor, and you're thrown headfirst into the alcohol infused, neon casted mayhem. Party streamers, glow sticks and blaring upbeat music. It's complete madness. You can hardly hear yourself think and trying to work yourself through the tight gaps between people's swaying bodies proves to be a challenge of its own and it's a heavy reminder as to why you had even gone outside in the first place.

The atmosphere is cloying and thick; you feel as though you might actually be able to choke on it like it's a physical thing. As otherworldly and exciting as this party is, it's another experience entirely when you're being elbowed in the ribs by an oblivious drunk girl who isn't aware of her windmilling arms and all the intoxicated men who think that you're trying to feel them up and flirt with them when in reality you're just trying to get by. And for a split second you feel as though you may never make it out of the tumultuous sea of bodies. That you'll be cursed to wander around aimlessly in the wild, dancing masses for eternity. Subjected to the ear shattering music and scent of spilt wine and bourbon and sweat.

But then you hear something that sounds suspiciously like your name. It's distant and damp as though your ears are plugged and for a second you had thought that you imagined it before you hear it again. This time louder and there's no mistake that someone is calling you. It has you pausing for a moment to analyze your surroundings and then you catch sight of someone familiar at the far end of the room and for a moment you think that your eyes might be lying to you with the aid of the dim lighting. The deep, saturated, shifting hues of purple and blue and red tinting the chaotic space doing very little to aid you. But someone is waving their arm up the air for you to spot them better and a long glance confirms that you were right in your assumption. The relief that sweeps across your bones is insurmountable and the glimpse of a hand raised up in the air to beckon over you is even more incentive to press forward. And you have to shoulder past people until you enter a small break in the crowd.

"There you are!" Venetia shouts triumphantly, swaying to the rhythm of the song playing at full blast. "I've been looking all over for you!"

You don't bother refuting her. Of countering that she was the one who had wondered off without any plans to meet up afterwards. Instead, you just move up closer to her, doing your best to match her movements and energy but you're entirely too self-conscious to actually meet her. And you feel the fleeting sense of relief that she has yet to notice all of the glitter covering her dress or doesn't care.

"I had to go outside and get some fresh air, " you confess and even underneath the low lighting you can see the way that she nearly rolls her eyes at you, but even then, there's a well-meaning smile on her face.

"You're at a once in a lifetime party, and you were spending it outside?"

"Just for a minute." But she looks completely unamused by your apparently flimsy defense and suddenly she's grabbing you by the shoulders and leaning towards you like it might seal in her words better.

"Well, you're supposed to be inside. Dancing and partying and getting drunk." She squeezes her hands against your skin. "Seriously, it's like you're allergic to fun."

Okay, a little bit rude. And you try to remind yourself that she's just saying it because she's probably drunk. For the most part, all of the younger Catton's (Farleigh included) have a tendency to be social butterflies and party animals. It was something that you had struggled to keep up with when you had officially become friends with Felix. Luckily, he was typically the most understanding out of all of them, and he was aware enough to take notice when you were burning out. It was something that you had thought that Venetia had come to terms with as well, but every now and again she always makes sure to voice her objections.

And you open your mouth to protest but you hardly get anything out. "That's not tru-"

"And as your friend it's my duty to ensure that you do exactly all of the above!" She pulls away with a smirk that is entirely all too satisfied, and it immediately has the alarm bells inside your head blaring. "And maybe even a bit more."

You don't like that last bit.

"There's someone who I think you'd love to meet!" And you swear you can feel your stomach drop at those words but exasperation bleeds through the discomfort until you're holding back an irritated sigh as she practically gushes some stranger's name. "Reuben!"

And at the call of his name, the guy seems to appear from the darkness and shifting bodies like some sort of spirit. It takes you completely off guard how closely and quickly he moves, and you have to physically keep yourself from flinching back. The entire situation is jarring, and you feel like an insect pinned to a corkboard with how both Venetia and this stranger - Reuben are watching you expectantly. And it takes everything to muster up a smile that you know must look strained and unnatural. "Hi," you greet lamely, but he doesn't seem to be the least bit deterred or put off.

And he is cute, you'll admit. Kind, joyful eyes that you think are hazel but it's honestly impossible to tell in this lighting and there's a dusting of freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. He seems inviting enough if first impressions are anything to go by, but for whatever reason you don't find yourself gravitating towards him or longing for any sort of conversation with him.

"It's nice to meet you!" He returns, loudly projecting to be heard over the stereo system. "Venetia's told me a bit about you."

"Uh-huh, " you nod for him to continue or maybe divulge, but he doesn't. He just stands there silently without removing his gaze and you can't tell if it's because he's just oblivious or if maybe he's just socially awkward, but it has you shuffling on your feet all the same, desperate to move or do anything to make this less weird. And you glance over at Venetia who still has that hopeful expression on her face, doing your best to telegraph your discomfort without tipping Reuben off. And she does seem to notice but she doesn't tell him to leave or direct him somewhere else like you had wanted.

"Reuben said that he's been to America before," she reveals. Apparently trying to salvage this little interaction and cultivate it into something more.

"Oh, really?" You perk up a bit, or at least try to. "Where did you visit?"

"Uh, New York. City, " he clarifies at the end before his demeanor shifts into something a bit sheepish and playful and the gold plastic crown perched atop his head glints in the lights. "It was a bit of a bore, I won't lie. But that was probably because I was there on a business trip and not on holiday, so feel free to put the blame on me."

His attempt at joking does thaw at some of the unpleasant tension that had burdened the air, but even with the initial ice broken there's still just a simple, straightforward uninterest underneath it all. You aren't stupid. It's obvious why Venetia had pressed to introduce him to you, it's obvious why he had agreed. And you don't fault him for trying to get lucky at what might just be the party of the decade (for you at least) but keeping him here and stringing him along is a complete waste of everyone's time. You aren't going to sleep with him. Not tonight or any other night. And then you go to tell him as much, parting your lips to just get to the point and lay all of your cards out on the table but then Venetia is tapping on your shoulder, making you pause to look over at her.

She has this strange, delighted smile on her lips that's even worse than the one she was wearing when she had invited Reuben over. She nods her chin over to your right, watching eyes trained on something or someone. "Your shadow's here."

You nearly break your neck to follow her line of sight and your heart skips a beat when you see Farleigh standing several feet away from a gap in the crowd and you have to wonder just how long he's been standing there for. And you don't know why you suddenly feel as though you've been caught doing something wrong. Why your body flushes and prickles with shame and you feel like cringing. Maybe it's because of the way that he's looking at you. How his eyes dart from you to Reuben like he's assessing something. Most of the emotions flickering across his face are unreadable. But for second you think that you catch glimpses or what might be anger or irritation and worst of all betrayal before it leans into something neutral and flat. And then just as you had, he's turning on his heels and vanishing. But unlike you, he doesn't smile as he leaves. He doesn't walk away with a silent invitation to follow.

And then Venetia is turning to Reuben with a sweet smile and tilting her head. "Alright, you can go now."

He looks just as confused as you do, and he turns to look at you like he's expecting you to jump in to defend him or at the very least offer an explanation, but you don't have one to give. You're just as lost as he is and when you don't speak and tell him to stay, he backs away, spreading his arms out in a sort of silent 'what the fuck?' gesture and vanishes back into the throng of bodies.

"What . . . was that?" You ask, tense with a mutated type of bewilderment and anger.

"I just wanted to see it." She says cryptically and irritatingly, begins to dance in place before finally disclosing on that little comment. "The look on his face."

"What?" You snap.

"Please, the way you two dance around each other is getting dreadfully old. It's boring and tired. I just did something to get the ball rolling."

This in particular isn't new by any means. You had heard it all before from the two Catton siblings. Their vehement insistence that you and Farleigh had some unspoken attraction for the other that you both refused to act or speak on. It had nearly become a joke for the both of them. To prod and poke at you and Farleigh with to their hearts content. It was something that the both of you had learned to accept over time - somewhat - and ignore. But this. This new and entirely strange.

"So, what? You were trying to make him jealous?" Your forehead crinkles as you watch her; incredulous and perplexed.

"Trying?" She echoes amusedly." I succeeded. Did you see the way that he was looking at you? He was practically seething."

You almost scoff. He wouldn't be jealous; he had no reason to be. And you don't know why Venetia's little ruse has pissed you off, or why that strange look on Farleigh's face had made your heart drop, but it did.

"The two of you are so dense that it's honestly as frustrating as it is entertaining," she says with pure exasperation. "I mean, whenever you're here, you're practically fused at the hip. Bickering like cats and dogs like we can't all see the truth." She laughs but it's more of a scoff really. "He speaks about you. All the time. Always whining and complaining about something you've done. But it's different. He practically has hearts in his eyes while does it. And it's exhausting." And then she's backing away from you, leaving you to settle and drown in the disarray of your own thoughts and come to terms with that. Does he really speak about you like that? Surely, there's no way.

"So can the two of you, for all of our sake's, sort whatever mess you've got going on between you and just fuck already? "

And then she's spinning away her heels, sending you a wink over her shoulder and the silver chains wrapping around her body in a delicate draped halter glint and twinkle underneath the lights; showcasing that elaborate weblike shape that they've been constructed in. And she just leaves you. Abandoning you in the middle of the temporary dancefloor while you fight with an upstream of odd emotions. You just standing there while you tussle with the urge to find Farleigh and apologize (apologize for what?) and tell him that it was just some weird joke from Venetia (why does that matter?). You don't know why you feel the need to go and try to repair whatever damage Venetia may have just done. What that said 'damage' may even be, you don't know. And you also don't know why you're suddenly heading off in the direction that Farleigh had disappeared in, scanning the crowd for him with some ugly sense of desperation that you don't want to unpack and analyze. Not even as you yield to it.

You aren't even sure how long you search for; your gaze jumping over every face and person that you see in the hopes that you find him. But the room is packed to say the least, and the odds of you actually stumbling across him must be low. He might not even be in this specific room anymore. And if that's case then you might as well as give up now. The estate is sprawling; if he doesn't want to be found, then he won't be. And you think about giving up. Of turning in for the night and trying to talk to him in the morning when you inevitably see him at the breakfast table.

But then you see him. Only this time there's no double take or reason to reconfirm that it is him, this time you spot him immediately.

He seemed to have shed his doublet at some point, leaving him in his pale undershirt. His mask is gone as well. And it takes your mind a second to realize that he's not alone. That he's pressed against some girl like he might kiss her. There's a smile on his face; inviting and flirtatious and the tips of their noses brush together as they lean in close.

You're an unintended observer. You shouldn't be here watching them in a moment that clearly isn't meant for you but it's as though your feet are glued to the floor. It's like watching a car crash. You don't want to look; you don't want to be here but some awful part of you is making you stay. Your muscles have gone still from something prickling and cold and disarming. You can feel it in your chest too. It's making your lungs seize and for one long, paralyzing moment it's almost like you can't breathe. But you don't have a right to be bothered by this. Farleigh's entitled to have one-night stands or flings or to go on dates with people if he wants to. There's no reason why he can't. And there's no reason why you should be feeling shame and betrayal and hurt right now. Absolutely no reason. You wonder if this is what he had felt just a few moments before while you were standing with Reuben and that odd little side of you hopes that he had.

God, what if Venetia had been right? What if -

Their lips brush together.

They're going to kiss, some hideous part of your brain whispers and even worse your body tenses and coils like it's bracing for some sort of dreadfully anticipated impact. This is it. The moment the car crashes and erupts into burning flames.

But then Farleigh goes still. Pausing as though someone had called his name or he's remembered something. The girl that he's pressed up against leans back with a confused furrow pinched between her eyebrows when he turns his head and his eyes land on you.

Your mouth goes dry, and your tongue seems thick and useless, and you try to swallow around it. Now that you're here you don't even know what to do with yourself. You aren't even sure what you had gone after Farleigh for. You didn't have a plan to begin with; you didn't know what to say. You have to internally curse yourself for following after him and putting yourself in this situation. It's strange and awkward and it takes everything for you to even manage a smile. To try and look casual and pretend that maybe you had just stumbled across them and hadn't intentionally tracked him down. And you lift a hand up in a lax wave while your mind ceaselessly chants for you to leave. To just go.

You can feel Farleigh's gaze searing into you, drilling holes into your head even as the girl that he's with leans towards him and you can't hear over the distance or the music, but she appears to be saying something if the way that her mouth is moving is any indication.

You're quick to turn on your heels and all but nearly speed walk away from the both of them, eager to create as much distance between you and them as possible. You don't feel like you're apart from your body. It's like you're disconnected from it, uncomfortably aware of your limbs and movements as you rush away. And it's like your emotions are stuffing your body full and threatening to tear it at the seams. Emotions that you don't recognize; that you don't want to recognize.

A warmth and pressure suddenly encircles around your wrist, much like a hand would and for a moment you think that you've imaged it. But then you're being pulled back gently by the strength of someone's grip, and it forces you to stop. You know who it is before you turn to look at them. You can smell the burn of tobacco from his cigarette habit on his clothes, and it blended with the delicate musk of his cologne. The woody notes of amber joining along with vanilla and bergamot and cardamom made your mouth water in some horrid Pavlovian response. It was humiliating.

Then your eyes are meeting his; dark and glimmering underneath the flashing, sweeping lights dancing about the room. And for one agonizing moment neither of you say anything. It's like you're both simultaneously drifting away and stuck in place. The energy looming over the both of you is foreign and strange, and Farleigh can feel it too if the blank, unsure expression on his face gives away as much.

And then he's releasing your wrist and you let your arm drop down at your side. He shifts on his feet and the weird tension in his shoulders drop as easily as if it were a piece of clothing and a smirk takes shape on his face. This is the Farleigh that you're more familiar with, with the condescending look in his eyes and a prideful tilt to his head. It puts you at ease. Dulling the nervous butterflies in your gut and allowing you to settle underneath his presence.

"Well, if it isn't Felix's favorite little pet." It's meant to be an insult. Most would read it as such, but for you it brings nothing but relief. It feels like a consolation almost. That whatever these strange little interactions have been they haven't damaged your relationship with Farleigh (what relationship?) and made things odd. He glances around the room and all of the festivities, the swaying crowd and streamers and flowing alcohol. He wrinkles his nose in a way that comes off as falsely apologetic. "Or I guess I should say second favorite now."

"Then it's a good thing that I didn't come here for him," you respond easily enough. Internally thankful that the last remaining remnants of tension in your throat hasn't prohibited your ability to speak. "I just know how thrilled you always are to see me, and so I couldn't possibly bring myself to skip out on the trip."

"Thrilled," he echoes with a scoff. "Is that what you think? Because personally I feel like drowning myself in the pond right about now."

"No one's stopping you, " you quip back easily, finally slipping back into your old dynamic.

His forehead scrunches as he pins you with an incredulous look, tilting his head as he moves in closer towards you. "And leave you here all alone? What would you do without me?"

"Thrive. Live. Experience peace."

"Sounds boring."

But you don't have time to respond. He's leaning back on his feet and stepping away from you while he digs one of his hands into the pocket of his costume's pants. And when he removes his hand, it comes out clutching a packet of cigarettes, which he's quick to ruffle around in. "Come on, I wanna smoke."

You don't ask any questions as he moves, leading you out from the dancefloor and throughout the house. Every so often he glances back over his shoulder like he's reconfirming that you haven't wandered off and left. He guides you up a set of staircases, past the couple planted by the first step who are openly making out and grinding on each other and up into the twisting, changing hallways.

"Where are we going?" You ask, nearly getting shoulder checked by a pair of girls who rush down the corridor in a fit of giggles.

"I told you, " he replies and hardly looks back. " I want to smoke."

You want to press him about. About how suddenly he's unable to smoke inside when you've seen him do at least a thousand times. Even at the breakfast table. He probably does it on the toilet too. It wouldn't be a surprise. You aren't sure how long the two of you walk for, higher up into the highest floors of the house until he's finally stopping and opening a door at the end of the hall. He pauses in the threshold, dipping his head in and looking in like he's checking to see if it's occupied. He could have just knocked. It would have been an unpleasant surprise for the people inside if it actually had been unavailable. But the coast must be clear because he's slipping inside and nodding his head for you to follow after. He shuts the door behind you, closing it with a click and gives you a passing smirk when you shoot him a curious glance.

You follow him into the room, vacant apart from some paintings and a few pieces of furniture - an old office maybe, and he leads you across the floors towards a pair of large glass double doors.

He tugs on one of the handles, swinging it open, revealing what appears to be one of the balconies. He's outside before you. And by the time you slide up beside him he's already leaning against the chiseled stone railing on his elbows and the cigarette perched between his lips is lit and smoldering.

The air outside is still warm, sweet and earthy with the scent of moister in the air, like some distant, unseeable storm is brewing. And you can see so much of the estate from this high up. The frolicking people down below in their costumes and those massive, glowing lotus lamps drifting in the pond. But even with all of the guests down on the courtyard engaging in various kinds of trouble; drinking and shouting and singing amongst themselves, up here their voices can harldy reach you. It sounds like a faint murmur on the soft summer wind. And for maybe the first time tonight you actually feel a sense of calm.

"He's a selfish lover, " Farleigh says randomly, flicking the butt of his cigarette to sprinkle the dead ash onto the far grounds beneath. "And a notoriously fast one too. Eliana Merrick said he busted as soon as he put it in."

He notices the lost look on your face and sighs, twisting around on his feet to lean his back against the railing instead. "Your little boytoy from earlier. Reuben Amory." He spits his name out with something that sounds suspiciously like contempt. Venomous and irritated and he lifts the cigarette up to take another drag. "His father's a friend of the family. To James specifically. That's how he always manages to weasel his way into our parties."

"I guess I dodged a bullet then." You joke, absentmindedly fiddling with one of the elaborate pearl earrings dangling from your ear.

"What? He didn't scratch your itch?"

"No," you shake your head with a light shrug. "He was fine. It's just . . . I don't know, I wasn't interested."

Farleigh snorts, making you glare at him, eyebrows furrowing. "What?"

"Nothing." But his tone is a little sarcastic, and unconvincing and the nasty smile on his lips reveals as much. "He just seemed to fit the bill of your type pretty well. Well-meaning, polite and a little pathetic."

You nearly laugh but it comes out as more of a scoff. "That is not my type."

"Oh, really?" He challenges, moving closer towards you and you can smell his cologne again. The vanilla sticks out the most this time. Delicate and sweet. "What about that guy you used to flirt with at IHop? "

"He was a server. It's literally his job to be nice-"

"And then there was your neighbor back at the apartment. The one across the hall with the abysmal amout of plants. And then who could possibly forget, what was his name? Adrian? Who you dated for all of four weeks."

It has you falling silent, unable to counter his argument even though you have a remark waiting on the tip of your tongue. You've never realized that Farleigh had ever paid that much attention to you and your affairs. It has that syrupy, fuzzy feeling pooling in the center of your chest despite that fact that you're actively telling yourself that it doesn't actually mean anything. It's normal for people to notice things about people that they're forced into proximity with.

"Wow, I never knew you were so interested in my love life, " you say, gripping onto the rough texture of the railing. Stroking your fingers over the soft groves and bumps. "Maybe you should get one of your own."

"But yours is always so entertaining," he snuffs out the cigarette and carelessly drops the butt onto the ground near his feet. "You know, with the way that it always seems to crash and burn."

It probably would have stung to hear if you weren't able to say that you were the one to end all of the relationships that you had been in. That you were always the one to take the first step in severing ties. Even with Adrian you had been the one to sit him down and explain that you just hadn't been able to see it progressing anywhere. The both of you were too different. Your goals and wants in life were polarizing and the only things that had brought you together were superficial at best. You just weren't built to last.

"Please, like yours has ever been any better." But he doesn't look the least bit offended. Instead, there's a satisfied quality to his expression. Your lips purse and something akin to defeat weighs down your shoulders. "Besides, they were all too sweet anyway. A little too nice. They could never keep up. I'd always end up saying something to hurt their feelings on accident and they would think that I meant it and then I'd get the silent treatment."

"Not like us, huh?" Farleigh responds a little softly. And he was right. There was always something about your dynamic with Farleigh that you had never been able to achieve in your relationships. The constant push and pull. The competition of your endless banter and insults. The way that you could be completely bare and unrestrained with your words without putting your standing with him at risk. There was . . . an intimacy in it that couldn't compare with anyone else. You had seen the worst of Farleigh. The sneers and jabs and heated sarcasm. And in turn he had gotten the brunt of your own ire and jokes, but it still didn't change a thing. Neither of you ran from it. Instead, you both seemed to revel in it. To seek it out even. It was a type of security that you had never found with any other friend or lover.

And you don't know what it is, but some invisible element shifts and rises between the both of you. Something that's always been there. Simmering and quiet, building up underneath your every interaction like water boiling on a hot stove.

"No. Not like us," you admit in a near whisper like if you spoke to loudly that it might disrupt whatever magnetic thrum has fallen over you both. So low that he might not have heard you. But then you see something flash in his eyes. Something hungry and eager and he's moving closer until you can feel his body heat pouring over your skin, seeping underneath the delicate fabric of your dress and into your bones.

"I hated all of them," he says it like a confession. Hushed and passionate. And you suppose that it is one. Told in total confidence, with a certain fervor like a sinner tucked away in a confessional booth. "I hated them because they should have been me."

It makes you gasp lowly. And your fingers squeeze around the banister like it might ground you and keep you from floating away. And suddenly Venetia's previous statements are echoing around in your skull; mocking and satisfied. You feel slightly stupid now. Blind. But never in a million years would you have guessed that Farleigh had actually ever been jealous of the men that you had dated. It seems like such a silly concept. Or else it would have in the past, but now here he is confirming the very thing that the two Catton sibling's have been vehemently trying to drill into your head for years. And you like it. God, you actually like it. Some nasty little side of you is completely satisfied and even elated that he's been seething over all of your old flings and exes. It feels good because you've been doing the same thing you suddenly realize. Every time that stinging burn had caught up in your chest at the sight of him curled up with some other person - it hadn't been irritation for Farleigh. It was jealousy. You had actually been jealous.

"Can I tell you something?" You ask.

He just hums, low and soft. You can't even glance away from him. Not even if you wanted to. Not with the way that he's looking at you. His stare is heavy and intense, and it feels like you're being held by the throat, forced to maintain eye contact with your breath steadily being stolen from your lungs. "I wished they were you, too."

It's like something breaks free from you when you say it. It was heavy, oppressive and suffocating and in its absence, it's replaced by a sense of ease and a freedom that makes you want to laugh and maybe even cry. And maybe if you weren't preoccupied with the entirety of your attention zoned in on Farleigh you might would have.

Now he's stepping even closer than before, and now you can actually feel the press of his body against yours. The pressure of it has your lips parting, and you have to angle your head to maintain your shared gaze without breaking it. Then his hand is tucking underneath your chin; the pad of his thumb lifts to brush over you, tracing the shape of your bottom lip with something that feels close to reverence.

"Can I kiss you?"

Something inside of you breaks apart at the question, crumbling and washing away like sand underneath the crashing power of a wave. You nod before you even fully register it, and your body is buzzing with a honeyed heat. And you understand that if you do this then whatever relationship you have with Farleigh is going to fundamentally altered. It will be the point of no return and the consequences, positive or negative, will be unavoidable. Maybe tomorrow things will go sour. Maybe by then you'll be back to hating each other, even worse than before. But you want this. Consequences and all.

"God, yes. Please."

His lips are soft and warm, and they taste sugary and faintly floral with what might have been the flavors of some beverage that he had drank earlier. There's the bite of tobacco on his skin too, sharp and smoky. It's usually something that you had never enjoyed when kissing people in the past, but right now it hardly even registers. You're too busy getting lost in the feel of him. The warmth of his hands framing your face, the way that he shifts you on your feet and nudges you back against the railing of the balcony. Your hands are everywhere that they can reach, stroking down his chest and dipping down to grip his hips, pulling them flush against you like any amount of space left between you might kill you.

He groans into your mouth at the gesture, nipping at you lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. It has heat, liquid and thick building between the cradle of your thighs. And you know that it's just kissing, but you can't help but internally berate yourself, because if the both of you hadn't been so horribly bullheaded you could have been doing this the entire time.

And he pulls away from you all too soon, making an embarrassing whimper bubble up from your throat, but he's hushing you with a soft coo, snickering lightly under his breath when he ducks his head beneath your chin to suck at the skin there. Taking it between his teeth and lips and you can't help to soft, breathless pants that start to leave your chest in response. It's purely possessive and you're sure that he's trying to leave marks there, and you can't find it in yourself to tell him not to. It's like your muscles are melting, going boneless at the sensation of his tongue tasting your skin, licking up the salt from it. You can feel the shape of his smug smile against your throat, and it makes you want to slap him. But instead, you're reaching a hand up to cradle the back of his neck, keeping him close to you.

You're wet already, soaking through your underwear. It's something that you would have been awfully conscious of in the past with another partner, but here and now you can hardly think around the red fog that's beginning to cloud your brain. And then he's shifting, sweeping a hand underneath the silk skirt of your dress to clasp around your thigh so that he could pull it to the side, allowing him to nudge his leg between the both of yours.

"Farleigh," you gasp, and he cruelly grinds his thigh against the heat of you, steadily feeding the pressure thrumming there but not letting it build towards anything more. It's frustrating. Mean. And it has you clawing at his shoulders impatiently.

"Yeah? What is it?" He asks, nipping at the sensitive skin on your ear, making sure to be mindful of your earring. You don't respond at first, unable to with the way that he's still steadily moving his thigh against you. It's simple, but with the way that you're already so pathetically worked up, it feels like agony. "Come on, you can tell me."

And to make it worse, that hand that had been gripped around your leg is now moving further underneath your dress, slipping between the press of your bodies to settle above where you want him. His fingers play with the elastic band of your panties, teasing, implying more. But then he hooks it in the crook of his fingers and pulls, letting it snap back against your skin. The sting is dull, but it has you gasping regardless. You mindlessly reach for his hand that's still underneath your skirt, taking it into your own. And you briefly fear that he'll pull it from your grip. But he allows you to guide him. He removes his head from your neck to look into your eyes, watching your expression when you finally slip his hand underneath your underwear, and you can feel the shocking chill of his signet ring trailing across your heated skin. He takes over from there and you can't help the way that you arch into him when his fingers finally move down to where you need him the most. His face pinches when he spreads you open, and he nearly groans at the feel of you. "Jesus, baby, you're fucking soaking already."

Your eyes flutter from the drag of one of his knuckles brushing over your clit and it's like it's directly connected to every individual nerve in your body, making you squirm and moan raggedly.

"Is this all for me?" He asks, dipping one of his fingers lower, teasingly circling the entrance of your cunt but he doesn't go any further.

"Yes." Your lungs feel tight and your nipples brush against his chest with each breath that you take, doing little to help ease the tension and desire threatening to tear you apart. "Yes, it's 'cause of you. Please, Farleigh. C'mon."

"What's the rush?" He taunts, angling his head to take your bottom lip between his teeth and biting. "The night's still young. "

He rocks his thumb against your clit, smirking at you with pure arrogant satisfaction from the way that you shudder underneath his touch. You know that he's absolutely delighting in the way that you've been practically turned into mush by what is essentially some heavy petting. Especially after all of the years of trying one up each other, you're sure that this is doing wonders for his ego. Like it needs to get any bigger. That little prickle of irritation peeks out from underneath the saccharine haze shrouded over you, and you can't keep it down. "I fucking swear, Farleigh, " you nearly hiss, nudging your hips in the hopes that it'll drag the pressure of his fingers closer. "If you don't do something, I swear I'll-"

"You'll what?" Comes his immediate reply, the low rasp of his voice sounds completely unbothered.

"I'll leave, " you say firmly. Or as firmly as you possibly can with the way that the knuckle of his thumb has begun to rotate around your clit in tight, but soft sweeping brushes. But he doesn't appear to be worried in the slightest. He just grins at you. And shakes his head as he lowers it to nudge his nose against yours.

"No, you won't." He says it so certainly. Like he's omnipresent and has already seen the decided future. Like your fate is already sealed. And he's right as much as it pisses you off to admit it. You won't leave. But you don't want to tell him that and give him the satisfaction. " 'Cause you need me don't you, baby? Need me to make you cum."

You're nodding in agreement before you even realize it, throwing whatever semblance of control that you had right out of the window.

"Yeah? Gonna let me taste you?" Just the words alone nearly makes you keen aloud like some desperate slut, and you just barely swallow the sound down. But he must see it in your eyes. The sheer want and desperation that you feel coursing through your body like a drug. The need possessing you might actually be debilitating and you're back to clawing at his shoulders and arms in an attempt to just do something. To pin your focus on something other than the heavy ache between your legs. And you can just distantly hear yourself chanting a string of 'yes' like a broken record.

He tugs his hand from your underwear, and you can't help but mourn the loss, even when he's lowering himself down on his knees and planting kisses down across the expanse of your body as he goes. But then he's rucking the skirt of your dress up over your hips and tucking his fingers back into your underwear like he's getting ready to pull them down. Instead, he's just staring, and his eyebrows are pinched together almost like he's pained.

"You really are soaked," he says with a sort of awe. A thrum of embarrassment rings through you when you realize that he's probably admiring the noticeable wet spot that has dampened the crotch of your underwear from your arousal. You try to close your legs, mostly out of reflex but the sharp, reprimanding smack on the outside of your thigh that you get in response makes you freeze in place. He glares up at you and you have to reach behind you to grip the railing to keep from collapsing from underneath the intensity smoldering in his gaze.

"Keep them open," is his only warning before he all but rips your panties down your hips. Guiding one of your legs up with a hand for you to step out of them, but he leaves your lace underwear to hang from the high heel on your opposite foot; apparently too impatient to fully remove them. And he barely gives you time to think or breathe before he's taking ahold of you by your waist and swinging both of your thighs over his shoulders.

The feel of his tongue laving over the heat of your pussy in a long, greedy swipe makes you scream, completely uncaring for all of the guests down below. And all some distant, buried part of you can do is hope that you're up too high for anyone to hear you. That no one happens to glance up and see you clutching onto the railing for dear life. There's no build up to it. He's completely unrestrained, apparently having the goal to make you cum as quickly as possible with the way that he's working his mouth on you. Swirling his tongue over the swollen, sensitive nerves of your clit and lapping at the dripping entrance of your cunt like a man possessed.

You mouth drops open with heavy pants, and your hands scramble across the cool chiseled stone for something to ground you and keep you pinned to reality. You can see the glint of your arousal smearing across his lips and cheeks and the look in his eyes is a blend of determination and a dazed kind of contentment, and you can feel him groaning against your pussy, amplifying your pleasure. And if it wasn't for the way that you could barely stop whimpering and crying out, you'd nearly think that he was enjoying this more than you with his pleased hums thrumming throughout your body.

He takes your clit into the cradle of his mouth and sucks, and you think that you actually sob but you feel miles away from your body and also helplessly, deliciously trapped inside of it. "Farleigh, " you keen, humping against his face in a debauched display of hedonism. One of your hands reaches down, gripping onto his hair when your eyes roll back from the hot suction of his mouth.

"You taste so good, baby, " he huffs, lapping at the entrance of your cunt with firm, maddening strokes. "So fucking good."

It's too much. You feel like you're on fire. Like he's pulling you apart with each swipe of his tongue and putting you back together again one agonizing piece at a time. It feels cruel but it's also utter bliss. Your thighs are shaking from how tightly they're seized, clamped around his head in a tight squeeze. But he doesn't seem to be bothered about it, because when you try to be mindful and spread them open, he just takes them into his hold and presses them back up against his ears again like he wants to be suffocated. And the thought of that alone has something sharp and electric zipping through you. You file that little theory away for later.

And that familiar ache is rising up like a high, simmering tide. Building and rushing towards you with a quickness that takes you by surprise and you can feel your entire body winding up and coiling tight in anticipation. He drags you closer to his mouth, scooting you down lower against the railing. You're pretty sure that your back is going to be covered in scratches from the rough texture digging across your skin, but as of right now you couldn't give less of a shit. You let your head loll back on the stone, unable to find the concentration or strength to keep it up yourself. You stare up at the sky sightlessly, just barely taking in the winking glow of the scattered stars above while pure, liquid heaven seeps across your limbs.

That overwhelming looming pleasure is right over you now, just a few good strokes off. And with the way that he's licking and sucking at you with his mouth it won't be long before you're breaking apart for him.

"Farleigh," you whimper, choking around a wanton moan, trying to warn him.

He doesn't give you any verbal indication that he hears you. But the grip on your thigh's tense in response, and he circles your clit with the tip of his tongue before dipping it down inside of you; fucking you with it. You can't help the way you're grinding against him, crying out breathlessly when the point of his nose nudges against that swollen bundle of nerves, urging your orgasm to rush towards you at a breakneck speed that you can't brace for.

"Farleigh!" You nearly shriek this time while that wild, rush of pleasure crashes down on you with the intensity of torrential downpour. It tears through your body in a way that's almost violent, making you twist under the heat of his mouth and the iron grip that he still has secured around your legs like you've been jabbed with an electrical current. You sob through the brunt of it, probably alarming the entirety of the Saltburn Estate of your current position. And even after the most of it has made its way across your body, he doesn't stop lapping at you, determined to make sure that he wrings every ounce of your pleasure out of you. It isn't until you're weakly nudging his head away from your sensitive cunt that he pulls his mouth away, but he occupies it by kissing at the inner stretch of your thighs. He massages your hips gently and the sensation works to help guide you back into your own body and return a sense of coherence to you.

All you can do is just sit there and catch your breath, panting raggedly into the night air. You stare up at the stars with complete disbelief while your brain tries to catch up with the fact that Farleigh had just casually sucked your soul out of your body. Sure, you had heard stories of his sexual prowess from some of his past flings before. Heard all of the people gushing and praising his technique in the bedroom, and you had never not believed them per se, you had just never imagined that he was actually this good.

"You doing alright up there?" He asks and his voice is ragged and a little raspy like he was the one screaming and not you.

"Yeah," you confirm after a brief pause. "Just give me a minute and I'm gonna suck your dick."

You can feel him chuckle against you, playful and more than a little cocky but he's more than earned the right to be. "Take your time."

Thankfully, the strength has begun to come back to your body. And even though your limbs are still a little bit shaky you're more than determined and able to ignore it and push through. You raise your head up look at him, using your arms to shift and lift yourself up. He looks up at you expectedly, eyebrows raising with amusement while he aids you in removing your wobbling legs from his shoulders.

He must notice something in your gaze; desperation, want, determination, because he just moves to lean back on his elbows with a relaxed smirk.

"Right here?" He asks. You just nod wordlessly as you lower yourself down on your knees. You could go inside. You probably should. There wasn't a bed in the room that you had entered the balcony from, but there was a couch. Hell, even the floor in there would probably be more comfortable for the both of you than the harsh rock underneath you right now, but you don't want to wait. Not even with the room being so close. Your knees are going to absolutely hate you tomorrow but as of right now, you can't find it in yourself to care.

He parts his legs for you to settle between them and you're fast to crawl over him while he lifts himself up to kiss you. Your lips connect with teeth and tongue, and you moan into each other's mouths when you reach down to cup the length of him from over his pants. He's hot and heavy, even with the layer of fabric covering him. You're still sensitive from your recent orgasm but when you feel the weight of him against your palm, your pussy flutters and tinge of heat settles in the base of your abdomen.

"Baby please, just take it out, " he whines. His voice is petulant and quivering. On any other night you would have used it as an excuse to tease him, but as of right now, you don't have the heart (or patience) to. The urgency in his tone has you thumbing at the buttons closing his pants, but it doesn't help that they're so small and that its dark. You have to squint underneath the dim moonlight to find them and your fingers slip more than once. But luckily you manage to pop all of them through their opening in the fabric; even with the way that Farleigh impatiently grinds into the air, trying to use your hand and forearm as something to grind his cock against.

It's so desperate and dirty but it's also so fucking hot. Seeing him all laid out and begging has a heavy anticipation fizzling underneath your skin, prompting you to grip at the edge of his pants. He's eagerly lifting his hips up, aiding you as you tug the fabric down, working it around the swell of his ass and his hips. And he audibly groans in relief when his cock springs free from the restraint of his clothes. It's so hard that it looks like must be uncomfortable, and there's a steady stream of precum pouring from the tip and trailing down along a thick, throbbing vein in a pearlescent sheen.

Your mouth waters at the sight, and you have to swallow it in the fear that you might actually drool if you don't. He catches the way you're admiring him, and something smug bleeds into his dazed expression. A reversal from the way that he had outright begged for you earlier. You really want to wipe that look off of his face.

Then you're giving into your basest desires and leaning forward to lick at the head of his cock with long, steady sweeps, scooping up the salt of him into your mouth. He's rewarding you as soon as you touch him, breathing out a strained, "fuck," while his fingers come up to grip your hair, already knocking a few of the fake flowers clipped along your updo free; honeysuckles and pink camellias. He doesn't force your head down, but he doesn't remove his hold either, gently urging you to keep going and you can't help but concede. Stretching your jaw open further to slip him inside your mouth before slowly pulling off of him with a firm suck, lapping at the slit of his cock when you do.

He isn't the biggest you've taken, but he's still thick enough for you to feel a slight strain at the hinges of your jaw, but it doesn't deter you in the slightest. You nod your head down to take him in your throat, making sure to be mindful of your teeth as you go and luckily, you're aided by the lubrication of your saliva. You don't stop until you feel the faintest hint of your gag reflex and even then, you have to push off the thought to just keep going, to let yourself gag on him. You'll save that for some other time. As of right now, you want to be able to savor every little movement and twitch and whimper.

You've just started and it's already so sloppy, wet with the way that your drool smears around your lips and chin, and Farleigh seems to be struggling to keep his hips still, resisting the urge to fuck your mouth. His thighs are tense underneath the palms of your hands, muscles flexing and twitching with frayed restraint and each jerky hitch of his hips is punctuated by airy sighs and moans.

A glance up from your place between his legs has you appreciating the way that his back is already arching. He looks gorgeous like this, all splayed out with the thick of his eyelashes fluttering against the jut of his cheek bones. You've always had the sneaking suspicion that Farleigh would lean a bit on the submissive side in bed. Always overcompensating with his arrogant attitude and sarcasm, but you didn't think that he'd be this sensitive. You aren't sure if it's just because he might have already been so worked up from eating you out, or if he's naturally just responsive, but either way the way that he's acting is doing wonders for your ego. The power that you're getting from seeing him already so pleased and dazed is filling your head full of a syrupy sort of satisfaction.

You pull off of his cock with a pop, delighting in the way that he whimpers in protest. You just hum in response, smirking at him while you nuzzle your nose down the line of his shaft and all of his complaints die out once you take one of his balls into the warm cradle of your tongue, reaching up to grip him in your hand while your mouth is occupied.

He moans raggedly, a string of whispered, "so good, don't stop - please, don't stop." Like you'd ever do that now that you've got him underneath you. And not to sound dramatic, but the sky could split open with brimstone and hellfire and the apocalypse could reign down on Saltburn and you still wouldn't pull away from him. Not when he sounds so sweet. Not while he tastes so good. Salty and earthy across your pallet. And the way that he pants into the balmy night air, already breathless has the heat between the apex of your thighs back with a vengence; burning and wet, and you have to rub them together in an attempt to ease the tension there.

You can't help the way that you moan around him, lightly sucking at the sensitive point between his balls and the base of his cock while you smear your thumb over his slit. You the use the fluid to aid in few more pumps from your hand before you're licking back up his shaft again, swallowing him back down while your hand switches places to fondle his sack and the cry that he lets out in response is heavenly. Urging you to bob you head down on him in a steady rhythm. You try to remember to breathe through your nose but in your fervor, you often find yourself neglecting to take in lungfulls of air and as a result an oxygen deprived haze has begun to fizzle over your head. But you can't bring yourself to be worried over it. It feels good. The fuzzy, drunken buzz stuffing your skull full while you work his cock is stupidly addictive.

He must notice the glazed over look in your eyes because he's smiling at you from around the way that his lips have dropped open to release a bout of heavy pants. He drops the hand that had been clutching your hair to sweep his fingers across your face in a gesture that's way too sweet for a guy who's getting head. And it has something soft and sweet blossoming in your chest when he strokes your cheek with his thumb; it makes you feel delicate and adored even while your chin is smeared with spit and cum and your jaw is starting to ache.

"You're already a little fucked out aren't you?" It's rhetorical, you know, but you find yourself moaning in response regardless. "You look so georgous like this."

Liar. There's absolutely you look even remotely attractive right now. You can feel the prickle of tears threatening to slip past your water line and down your face, and you're sure that your lashes have begun to clamp together from the damp. Your lips are swollen and there's a sheen of sweat glittering on your forehead. You probably look like a wreck but it still has you melting, and you begin to lick and suck at him with even more passion than before.

And it must have felt good for him because his head is rolling back on his shoulders and his elbows nearly collapse, leaving him to drop onto his back with a gutted groan. His eyes roll back, and his thighs seize. His white undershirt has ridden up around his ribs, showing off the stretch of his abdomen and you can see the way that his muscles flex and tense with the same pulse of his hips. He's close and it only has you doubling your efforts with even more vigor, desperate to taste him on your tongue, to feel the heat of him in your mouth and throat. The sound of his gasping has changed in pitch, rising into something that sounds close to a sob.

But then you're being torn off of him without warning and you can't contain your mournful whimper when the weight of him leaves your mouth. Irritation and betrayal flares and you can't keep yourself from glaring at him even while he looks close to wrecked, rambling underneath his breath something that sounds like, "I'm sorry baby, I need to feel you, " as he hauls you onto his lap.

And your scattered brain is still able to grab onto what he wants. You gather up your skirt to settle your knees on either side of his hips and you're quick to grab ahold of his cock to line it up with your entrance. Neither of you have the mental capacity to tease or draw the process out longer than it needs to be, and you're thankful that he had already ate you out earlier, giving you some semblance of prep. And without any fanfare you're sinking down onto his cock, and your pussy flutters around his girth, stretching until he's buried in at the hilt.

The shared groans that you let out are ones of relief and pure bliss. Your body shudders at the fullness nestled within the apex of your thighs and Farleigh impatiently grinds his hips up into yours, rocking his pelvis into your clit with a petulant huff. "Come on baby, ride me, " he urges. "Fucking take it."

You can't find it in yourself to deny him. Or yourself. And he lets you plant your hands onto his chest for support when you lift yourself up with your thighs to begin wildly bouncing on his cock, grinding and swiveling your hips with each downstroke. That thick, heated pleasure is already building up near the base of your spine, and you already know that you aren't going to last long. Not with how worked up you are. And you don't think that he's going to be able to hold off either.

He's watching you with something akin to wonder in his eyes and his lips are snagged between his teeth like he might be trying to quiet himself. Like he's trying to selfishly hide those punched out little moans. And you don't know why he tried to be hushed now after he's been groaning and whimpering this entire time but that petulant expression on his face tells you all you need to know. He's doing it on purpose, the brat. It has you leaning over him to pepper soft kisses over his cheeks, nipping at his chin and jaw sweetly, before you squeeze your pussy around his cock like a vice and you place your hand around the base of his throat. You don't tighten your fingers around it, but let him feel the pressure of your grip, testing the waters to see if your earlier theory had been right.

And his body goes taut underneath you while his hips thrust into you with a harsh twitch. A gutted moan follows closely behind, and he grips onto your thighs like he needs it to ground himself and keep himself present.

"Feel good?" It's admittedly a little condescending but even then, you can't help the softness that bleeds through your tone. He nods his head drunkenly, tilting his head back to bare his throat to you. The way that he's melting underneath the ceaseless roll of your hips and mindlessly fucking into you with deep, heavy thrusts is already driving you towards that tide of heat and ecstasy, and they way that you openly keen reveals as much.

Your knees are already stinging from the harsh stone floor digging into them and your thighs are already burning with exertion from the ruthless pace that you had set. But you have no desire to stop yet. To switch positions or ask him to take over, not with how beautiful and fucked out he looks beneath you.

You're both already messy and incoherent, chasing after your pleasure desperately. The noises coming from the place where your bodies are joined is filthy with the repetitive smack of skin on skin and the crude squelching of your cum echoing off of the rock walls around you. And maybe if your brain wasn't practically mush you might would have had the capacity to care, but you just can't find it within yourself while you watch every minute, rapturous expression flit across Farleigh's face. Not while his plush lips are parted for him to gasp, and his eyes have nearly gone cross.

"Baby, " he whines brokenly. A warning for the way that he's quickly hurdling towards his release from the constant rock of your hips. Yours isn't far off either, simmering and curling within the pit of your abdomen and you can already tell that your orgasm is going to destroy you. It's so close. So, so, so close and you find yourself nodding shakily in response to him.

"I know, I know, " your jaw goes lax at a partially hard thrust from his hips, muscles spasming around the drag of his cock.

"Where - where can I- "

"Inside," you answer, choking on your breath." I'm on the pill - it's safe, you can- "

He cuts you off with a gutted, shredded groan of your name and his entire body seizes up from the power of his orgasm. The warmth of his release spreads throughout your lower stomach and another choppy, wild thrust from Farleigh grinds his pelvis into the tender nerves of your clit. It just sneaks up on you. Sweeping you up and dragging you down before you can even register that it's ravaging your body and making you scream. For a second you completely forget what it means to have a physical body. You don't have hands, or feet, or a mind. You don't have a favorite song and there aren't any bills to pay, or an apartment back home in America, and the chaotic party downstairs doesn't exist. The cold stone floor beneath your knees isn't there. You're just floating. Suspended in a state of bliss and pleasure.

For a moment you just are.

And then your lungs are gasping, filling up with oxygen. Clarity comes back to you in pulses and the feeling in your limbs follows behind. Sensation returns to your toes and fingertips and then your eyes are fluttering open. The first thing you hear is the rapid pulse of a heartbeat and when you breathe the scent of something like vanilla and cigarette smoke nestles within your lungs. It has you rubbing your cheek against the heat of their chest - Farleigh's chest, your brain supplies sluggishly. You don't remember collapsing on top of him but apparently you had.

"God damn," he slurs, prompting an amused, tired laugh from you. For a moment the two of you just lay there, taking the time to return to yourselves and grasp your senses. And with it, reality rises up too. That you're laying here with Farleigh on an open balcony with his cum dripping from between your thighs. And apart from his confession earlier there's some small insecure part of you that's worried that he hadn't fully meant it. That this was just a simple fling. Something to ease the tension that's been brewing between the both of you for the past few years. But you don't get to wallow in your fears for long before he's tapping on your thigh and shuffling up onto his elbows.

You just hum at him questioningly, not yet trusting your voice.

"Need a cigarette," he answers.

That has you moving, lifting yourself from his hips and you both hiss, sensitive and raw when he slips from you. Your knees are tender too, aching and you inelegantly plop yourself on your rump beside Farleigh to give them some relief. And you briefly occupy yourself with your underwear, slipping it back underneath your dress and smoothing out your skirt as best as you can.

He works on slipping his pants and tights back over his hips, digging into his pocket as soon they've been righted for a cigarette and his lighter. You watch him with something nervous in your gut. And you tell yourself that you're being stupid and overdramatic. So, what if this was just a one-time thing? It was an amazing time. And if this turned out to be some random fling then that would just make it even more special, right? And he said that he was jealous of your past exes but that didn't necessarily mean that he had feelings for you. You had been the one to jump to conclusions and assume.

And even if by tomorrow he pretends that this never happened then that would be fine. You'd make do. You'd survive. It won't be the end of the world.

"Do you want to spend the night with me?"

The question tears you from your thoughts. Saves you from them really and pulls your attention onto Farleigh. His eyes are glimmering from the burning embers at the end of his cigarette, laying some strange quality in his gaze bare. But whatever it is looks uncertain and hesitant. And it serves as reminder that this is new territory for him as well. That he's just as unsure as you are. It gives you a little boost of confidence that you aren't alone in your self-induced doubts. It makes you smile; soft and relaxed and you hope that it helps whatever thoughts he may have running around in his own head.

"Sure," you say. "But I want to rewatch House of Wax. "

His face scrunches up in response, but he's already rising up to his feet and holding a hand out for you to take, helping to pull you up on your wobbling feet. "That movie is shit."

"Well, I wouldn't be able to tell with the way that you wouldn't stop talking the last time that we all watched it." You grip onto his forearms while you find your balance, lowly cursing your heels and unsteady ankles. The energy has shifted into place, as easily as breathing; thawing all of the worries and insecurities that had initially clattered around in your brain as though they hadn't been there at all.

"That's because the characters were nothing but cliches and one note, " he scoffs and promptly drops his cigarette on the balcony, snuffing it out by grinding it with his shoe.

"I also need a bath."

A smile curls on his lips, a little teasing. " Want to share?"

You stare at him, a little disbelieving. There's absolutely no way that you could do that again tonight. At least not so soon. You're exhausted, barley holding yourself up as it is and you're still clinging to one of Farleigh's arms for support.

"Really? After that?" You question, eyebrows raising, but you can't keep yourself from trying to joke despite your surprise. "You're terrible."

Farleigh chuckles, guiding you towards the double doors gently, "Oh, don't look at me like that," he says, purely amused. "I wasn't suggesting another round, you're the one with your head in the gutter."

You don't reply. Too caught up in the fuzzy way that it makes you feel; his request to share a bath with you. A small gesture maybe, but it also feels wonderfully domestic and intimate. It has you leaning into his side as you step into the adjacent room, breathing in the scent of his cologne, soaking up the body heat that radiates from his skin. Whatever new chapter between the both of you has opened has still left you two with a lot of unsaid questions and answers. You still don't know what you two are. If there's a label to apply to you both of it was just a one-night stand, but you don't have to get those answers right this second. For now, you can just bask in his company and come morning, once you've both had time to think and adjust you can sit him down and have a conversation. And maybe (hopefully) your relationship will finally become something more.

But as for now, you don't mind spending the night in his room. Of cuddling up underneath the covers of his bed after a nice bath and watching a movie together, even though you know that the duration of it is going to be spent with him criticizing every line of bad dialogue and griping over plot holes, no matter how insignificant they may be.

It sounds like the perfect night, honestly.

But still there is still one burning question that's searing at your brain like a hot coal, and you can't keep yourself from voicing it.

"Do you think anybody heard us?"

And his answer is blunt and honest.

"Oh, yeah, there's no way they didn't."

#farleigh x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh start x you #farleigh start smut #farleigh catton #saltburn #saltburn movie #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn x reader #saltburn x you #oliver quick x reader

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caitified · 2 months ago

Note

Caitlin family fic where she goes absolutely overboard on Christmas gifts for Bella even though Bella’s too young to use most of the stuff.

advent calendar day one

first christmas

caitlin clark x reader

sorry for delay on this series, much more to come.

“caitlin,” you began softly, making sure your tone was playful but firm. “i know you want to make this christmas special for bella, but i need you to promise me something.”

caitlin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “what’s that?”

“no going crazy with the gifts,” you said, giving her a serious look. “she’s one. one! i know you love spoiling her, but we don’t need to turn the house into a toy store.”

she bit her lip, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “promise,” she said, holding her hand up dramatically. “i won’t go overboard. i’ll be… reasonable.”

you nodded, a little skeptical but hopeful. “i trust you, cait.”

and for the next few days, however, it seemed like caitlin kept her word. she didn’t show you anything else she’d bought, but you didn’t hear her ordering anything online, and the packages that showed up were relatively few.

or so you thought.

by christmas eve, however, the first few items had turned into an avalanche. every time you turned around, another box was arriving at the door, another delivery notification pinging on your phone. when you went to the front door to grab a package, you could barely see over the piles of toys, clothes, and other “essentials” caitlin swore bella would need. the last few deliveries, you noticed, were marked express shipping.

“cait…” you called, walking into the living room with a delivery in your hands.

caitlin glanced up from her phone with a sheepish smile. “i may have gotten a few more things. but don’t worry, it’s all for bella.”

you stared at the box in your hands, then back at caitlin’s nervous grin. “a few more things?” you raised an eyebrow. “how many few things have we reached?”

she shrugged, not quite meeting your gaze. “okay, maybe a little more than i originally planned… but they’re cute, i swear! bella’s going to love them.”

you sighed, trying not to smile at caitlin’s puppy-dog eyes. “i told you,” you muttered. “you promised…”

“i did promise!” caitlin protested, standing up and walking over to you. “but come on, look at this one!” she pulled out a brightly colored rocking horse from one of the boxes, completely ignoring your skeptical look.

you rolled your eyes, holding your hand out to gently stop her from unboxing more things. “caitlin, she can’t even walk yet. you really think she’s going to use a rocking horse?”

she paused, looking at it for a moment, before laughing softly. “you’re right, you’re right. okay, no more huge toys.”

that night, you tried to put your foot down, but you couldn’t help it—when you saw the joy on caitlin’s face, your heart softened. after all, this was your first christmas with bella as a family, and caitlin just wanted to make it unforgettable.

christmas morning arrived, and you both watched as bella excitedly tugged at the wrapping paper, more interested in the crinkling noise than the toys inside. but as you looked around, you couldn’t help but notice the growing pile of gifts at her feet.

caitlin had completely outdone herself. there were plush bears as big as bella, colorful blocks that would take years for her to even notice, books that were well beyond her age level, and even a tiny little basketball hoop you were fairly certain she couldn’t reach for at least another couple of years. the entire living room was practically swallowed up by it all.

but as you looked at caitlin—who was practically vibrating with excitement as bella slowly started to rip through the paper—you couldn’t help but laugh.

“i thought you promised…” you began, raising an eyebrow as you picked up a box that looked like it belonged to a toy store.

“i did promise,” caitlin said with a sheepish grin. “but she’s only going to be one once, right? next year, i’ll be more practical, i swear.” she winked and nudged you, clearly proud of herself despite the slight overboard on the presents.

you chuckled, your heart swelling at how much caitlin adored bella. “you went all out. i don’t even know where we’re going to put all this stuff.”

“well,” caitlin said, sitting beside you and gently placing a wrapped box in bella’s hand. “maybe we can just start a whole new room for her toys.”

you laughed, kissing caitlin’s cheek. “next year, we’ll start with a simpler list.”

caitlin grinned, pulling you closer. “deal.”

thanks for reading!

#wnba x reader #caitlin clark x reader #wnba imagine #wbb x reader #wbb imagine #iowa wbb #caitlin clark #caitified christmas

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huellitaa · 11 months ago

Text

girl's guide to academic success: ep 1! ⊹˚. ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 this post focuses on: actively rooting for success! ♡ part 2 -> ♡

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. organisation

first off, have something to organise ur academic life with! i personally use notion (which i'll add later) but u can use anything as long as it's cute, convenient, unique and accessible to you, your life and your schedule specifically. especially as a visual learner, i like to have somewhere i can dump literally everything regarding a singular area in my life, so i do this for almost everything along with school and i highly recommend this <3

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. recognition of talents & improvements

analyse your strengths and weaknesses. think back on tests, exams, marks, and analyse which ones you got highest and lowest on. dont beat urself up for it, obviously; it's just to check which subjects you're doing good in and which ones have room for improvement. for example i love science but im not the best at it sometimes and we had an assessment recently and i didn't get as high as i'd like so i wrote down a little list on a piece of paper in my pencilcase for the topics i got the least in for me to study on my own to practise later.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. laying out goals

set down specific goals; i like to do this week by week accustomed to my schedule that week in my school notion page along with images and vision boards based on the term/semester, but you can do it for the week, the month, the year, anything as long as its helpful to you

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. productive planning

plan accordingly based on ur time energy. when creating any to do list or productivity plan dont pile a ridiculous amount onto it that just leaves you stressed and overwhelmed because that defeats the entire point; this works the same for academic plans and goals and lists etc.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. extra credit

put extra work in to the subjects you know will help you in the future. for example, for my personal aspirations i need to excel in english, history and textiles so i always try my absolute hardest and put my all into those lessons and do extra studying for them in my free time where i can. school is to prepare you for the future so take advantage of that

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. asking questions

please don't be shy to ask questions! that's what teachers are there for and you won't have them forever so take advantage of it while you can! you can even do it in that little window of time just after class if ur too nervous to ask in class. for example, on my last english exam i went to my teacher after class and asked about what i needed to improve on to get the marks i missed next time, and he told me i added too much detail and some other things so i wrote it down and am keeping a note of it to remind me to improve on that next time! (i got top of my class though so i didnt mind. still kind of pissed i added too much detail though)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. participation

participate! ok im saying this as someone who still struggles with social anxiety a fair amount but if u wanna get higher marks and get on good terms w ur teacher i 100% recommend this. i don't do this in every class but i do it where i can and when i'm confident in my answer, and it's really intimidating at first but what i did is i did it first in the classes i felt most comfortable on and continued from there. it gets easier every time i swear, and nobody's judging you; they'll forget about it after five minutes. plus, what would they be judging you for? being smarter than them?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. prioritising ur health

this is mentioned a lot in these types of posts but if you're tired or burnt out or overworked or just feel like you need to take a break then do. do the best you can and compromise like i said earlier if you need to, just make sure u are prioritising yourself over anything. <3

──★ ˙ ̟🎀inspo

──★ ˙ ̟🎀my notion

i also really recommend this layout by @honeytonedhottie ♡

all my love 🩷✨💬🎀💗

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yerimbrit · 10 months ago

Text

10 hour flight : p. hanni

synopsis: you bump into a girl more than once at the airport. you learn that she's on the same flight as you, and to top it off, sits right next to you on the plane.

# pairing ! trainee!hanni pham x art student!reader

# tags ! fem!reader, slowburn...?, strangers to lovers, fluff, hanni's debuting soon, reader did some... insane shit in her past, but tbh she's not all that insane herself i swear, she's just reckless, hanni's afraid of flying, reader is '04, reader is a loser unfortunately

# wordcount ! 16k

# warnings ! lots of mentions of injuries/scars

today was probably one of the biggest days of your life.

you had just graduated from high school in australia in may about 2 months ago, getting into SNU's college of fine arts. you intended to pursue your passion in painting. ever since you were a baby, you've loved to have a hand in art — always scribbling colorful images on everything you could touch, from big pieces of scrap paper to the walls of the living room.

from a young age, you have won a significant amount of trophies and medals for your paintings entered in art competitions. your parents were highly supportive of your hobby, pouring months worth of paychecks into your art lessons and academy tuition fees.

although you were quite grateful, you thought they could be overbearing sometimes. that's why you chose to attend a school far away; to have a breath of fresh air, away from your overprotective mother and father. you could never relax and let loose like you wanted if they were worrying over every little move you made.

for example, the time your parents had left you alone in the house for the first time because they were going to a friend's wedding. they made an extensive list of things to do and not do, and of course, you used the 'not do' side as a checklist.

in your defense, you hadn't planned to have so many people over, just your friend group. but your friend chaeyoung knew a girl that knew another girl that knew a guy, and suddenly your house was hosting a massive party for the entire student-body. it was an honest mistake on your part, vowing to never host a party like that ever again, and sticking to stunts that you could do yourself for some healthy adrenaline.

obviously your parents weren't pleased when they returned, seeing the aftermath of the events taken place the day prior. you were given a big scolding, but you didn't let that stop you from attempting to wreak havoc the next time they were out.

now, family gatherings weren't your favorite. you couldn't get away with anything so long as someone older was watching you. they thought you were a demon. an artistic prodigy demon. they didn't understand how someone like you could be so good at something that was supposed to be so peaceful. you think you've matured enough though; it's been years since you've actually done something bad.

a few of your relatives stayed in seoul after your parents left for melbourne, including your idiot cousin hyein and her parents. it was decided that you were going to live with them, since you've already stayed there on previous visits.

speaking of hyein, it had been a while since you've seen her, last being christmas, which was a disaster. did you say it's been years since your last incident? well, you lied.

all the adults were out for something that you don't remember anything about, and you, being the troublemaker that you were, had convinced the younger girl to help you hang yourself from the ceiling right above the tree. your reasoning was that you'd "wanted to be the star for the night," and sweet little hyein agreed because why wouldn't she agree to her cool older cousin?

(you don't know where hyein got the harness and rope, or how hyein managed to wrap the rope around the beam on the ceiling that extended past the second floor, but the younger lee's eyes practically sparkled at the thought of accompanying you in one of your schemes, so you decided to ignore it.

hyein buckled the harness, tightening it as you squirmed against the restraints. she flashed a mischievous grin at you.

"ready?"

"i was born ready.")

both of you failed to realize that the rope you were using was extremely frayed at the ends and had definitely gone through years of wear-and-tear. it ended up snapping, and in the process, dropped you onto the christmas tree that had just been decorated that morning.

your relatives came home to you and hyein on the floor, wide-eyed, with wounds littering your face and arms from falling onto the tree.

needless to say, you and your little cousin were never allowed alone without supervision again.

on another note, you finally arrived at the airport!

your dad went around the car to open the trunk and started taking your luggage out. shortly after, you and your mom got out of the car and went to join your dad in getting your things.

"so, SNU huh? you're going too far, kid!" your dad chuckled, extending his hand for a handshake.

you gripped his hand firmly, feeling the roughness of his palm, and moving your hands up and down once.

you grinned. "i'll be back before you know it, dad."

you were about to let go until your dad brought you into a tight hug, leaving a kiss on top of your head.

"i know... it's just, we'll miss our star girl, you know?" he patted your back. "it'll be hard for this old man without his little girl around all the time."

you stared amusedly. "even though i always cause trouble when you're not looking?"

your dad let out a hearty laugh and ruffled your hair, much to your chagrin. you took this moment in, absorbing as much of it as you can so you could remember every detail. there were more wrinkles in his skin, and there were visible bags under his eyes. even though he's aged physically, you could tell in his laugh that he was still the same old dad that you've adored since you were little. (he was always the more spoiling parent between him and your mom.)

he stepped back, allowing your mother to rush in for a passionate embrace. you slowly felt your sweater getting damp as your mom sniffled into your shoulder.

"be sure to call when you land, okay? and eat on the flight, it's a long way there. also, the plane is cold so use that blanket i put in your backpack, and-"

you gave your mom a squeeze and briefly pulled away.

"i got it, mom. you told me all of this last night, remember? i even checked everything you said off before we left this morning so i wouldn't forget, so don't worry about me."

she managed a small smile and brought you back into the hug.

"let us know when you've arrived at hyein and her parent's house. and tell them we said hi and to take care of you."

you gleamed. "of course."

after making sure you had everything you needed, you gestured to your parents for a big group hug.

"i love you guys."

"ditto." your mom slapped your dad's shoulder, and you all laughed.

once you made it to the security checkpoint, you waved your parents one final goodbye, before the start of a long journey ahead.

"excuse me," you mumbled, narrowly avoiding bumping into others in the bustling crowd of the airport. there was a lot of people going back home after vacation, or going back to school or work after visiting home.

heaving a sigh of relief after making through the crowd, you took a moment to look around the area, a plethora of shops and restaurants standing before you. in doing so, you failed to realize you were still in public with thousands of people walking around you, and bumping shoulders with a girl.

"ah!" "ow!"

you widened your eyes as you turned to look at the person you just walked into, swiftly picking her bag up from the ground and handing it to her.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry. i wasn't paying attention," you said, bowing out of habit. the girl giggled. 'oh my god. she has the cutest laugh ever,' you thought to yourself, before looking up to see her face. 'oh my god. she's the cutest girl i've ever seen.'

"it's okay. at least we didn't fall over, right? are you hurt?"

snapping out of your daze (you were staring, and she definitely noticed, you think), you shook your head.

"no, i- i'm okay. are you?"

"mhm, i'm fine! don't worry about me."

you tried to muster out any words relating to asking the girl out, but when you opened your mouth she was already waving to you and turning around.

you cursed to yourself, frowning. "damn it, y/n. you can do all sorts of stupid stuff but you still can't even talk to a girl?"

for as long as you could remember, you've always been unlucky with the girls you talked to. for example, the girl you met at a music festival, who you went on a few dates with. she stopped talking to you after hearing about all the risky things you've done. or the girl who you were paired up with in your advanced painting class, who you almost dated. she cut things off with you because you were too much of a "genius" in art. you still thought that was an asshole move, because what does that even mean?

shaking your head, you forced yourself to stop thinking about your love life in ruins and instead started strolling around the spacious corridors of the airport. you made a mental note to buy something for hyein upon seeing the variety of gift shops lined up next to each other.

you sipped on your steaming cup of coffee, mindlessly scrolling on your phone to pass the time. your croissant laid half-eaten on the plate. the chatters of the people around you became white noise as you fell into the cycle of liking a post and scrolling down to the next one. if you zoned out enough, you could make out some of the conversations around you. you sighed.

'i miss mom and dad already...'

a bag being placed on the table interrupted your inner monologue before it could even start. startled, you looked up to see a girl. 'oh, a very pretty girl. wait, isn't this the girl from earlier?' you blink. 'shit! it's the girl from earlier!'

"excuse me, but could i take this seat?" she glanced around, then met your eyes. "there's, well. not exactly anywhere else to sit, ahaha..."

opening and closing your mouth, you wordlessly moved some of your things so she could set her cup down. she smiled at you, eyes crinkling up into slight crescents, and you think you've met the love of your life, judging by the way your heart thudded in your chest after seeing the human embodiment of an angel.

she took a sip of her drink. "thanks."

the atmosphere became suffocatingly awkward, and you nervously tried to redirect your gaze to anything but the pretty girl sitting in front of you. your attempts failed, unfortunately, because apparently trying not to look at someone is a lost cause, and your mind automatically filled with the brief memory of the stranger's laugh, smile, and face. giving up, you let your eyes find their way back to her face, surprised to see that she was already looking at you. you coughed.

"so," you started, "whEre-" 'what the hell. leave it up to me to have a voice crack while starting a conversation.' she giggled, and you bit your lip trying not to scream.

fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you cleared your throat and started again. "ahem. i um, meant to say... where, where are you headed to?"

she hummed, taking another sip of her drink. "korea. i'm... hoping to make music there. where are you going?"

you nodded. "music, huh... that sounds really cool," a look of realization dawned on your face, and your eyes widened. "wait, did you say korea?"

a questioning look appears on the girl's face, and she nodded. "yeah, korea. why?"

"i'm going to korea too! i got accepted to SNU's college of fine arts. i paint and stuff."

her mouth formed an "o" shape and she gave you an impressed look.

"that's impressive! it must've been stressful for you."

you grinned, taking a small bite of your almost-forgotten croissant. "it was. i almost lost hope, refreshing my email page over and over at night," you said, shaking your head. "by the way, what's your name?"

the girl looked startled, clearly not expecting the sudden question. the flash of surprise only lasted briefly, however, and she hastily cleared her throat to reply.

"hanni," she smiles, "hanni pham. what's yours?"

"y/n. lee y/n."

"well, y/n... it was really nice meeting you. maybe i'll see you in korea. you could design one of my album covers, haha."

you gulped, trying to ignore the burning heat rushing to your cheeks at the way your name rolled off her tongue. "oh! yeah. it was great talking with you, hanni. and if we do meet again... i'll do my best with the design."

she took her finished cup of whatever she ordered, and her bag, and waved to you with that angelic smile of hers as she walked away with her suitcase.

"nævis, calling-" as if right on cue, your phone's ringtone went off, the beat drop of aespa's next level playing at an extremely loud and embarrassing volume. you sheepishly mouthed sorry to the people around you, who were staring because of the noise, and picked up the call.

you cleared your throat, lowering your voice. "hello?"

the excited voice of hyein rang out into your ear, "unnie! y/n unnie!"

you winced and moved the phone speaker slightly further away from your ear.

"hi, hyein. what's up?"

you heard some shuffling around, and what seemed to be like your aunt's voice scolding hyein for yelling.

"hello y/n, sorry about hyein, she's really excited to have you here soon."

you subconsciously smiled at the thought of your little cousin counting down the days until your arrival. "don't worry about it, auntie. did you need something?"

there was some whining from hyein in the background, and your aunt sternly called her name, effectively shutting her up. "nothing, nothing. just wanted to check in with you. you're at the airport now, yes?"

you nodded, even though she couldn't see you. "yeah, i am. i got some coffee at a cafe and i'm about to head to the gate. by the way, did you guys want anything for the last time in a while? the chocolates at the gift shops are always good, i know you and uncle like them."

there's a thud, and you blinked at the silence that followed. you waited, checking your phone to see if the call was still connected, and raising an eyebrow when hyein's voice finally crackled out into the microphone.

"haah... haaaah... finally..."

"hyein?"

"i want a kangaroo keychain! the cute plush ones!" you once again pulled the phone speaker away from your ear when she yelled again.

'aren't those really expensive?' you thought, slightly grimacing at the thought of your soon-to-be empty wallet. 'oh well.'

you laughed as you pressed the phone to your ear to speak again. "okay, okay. anything else?"

"get two. i wanna match with you, unnie!" by now your wallet was really crying. 'the things i do for you, hyein.'

"alright... well, i have to get to the gate now. i'll see you later? say bye to auntie for me," you told hyein, finishing your pastry and cleaning up your table before getting up from your seat.

"okay! bye unnie!" and the call dropped. you sighed, shaking your head while smiling, and started making your way towards your gate.

(you held the small keychains in your hand. they were the size of your palm, and you turned it around to check the price tag.

"holy shit, 15 dollars for this tiny thing?!"

"it's for hyein, she wants to match. it's for hyein, it's for hyein, it's for hyein...")

"hanni?"

"y/n?"

well, that was sooner than you thought. as soon as you made it to the seating area, you spotted a familiar face: the pretty girl named hanni that you bumped into earlier. before, you couldn't start a conversation with her without stuttering and stammering, but the feeling of your lighter wallet must've left you more easygoing after mourning your diminished funds on the way to the gate. (you were at least glad you could make hyein happy.)

she gestured to the seat next to her, her bag occupying it moments prior. grateful, you thanked her, and moved to sit, setting your suitcase in front of you. just as you started to relax, hanni gently tapped your shoulder, nearly making you jump.

"fancy seeing you here?" she said, her grin accompanied by a lighthearted tone.

you breathed a sigh of relief. her lopsided smile sent waves of comfort through you, allowing you to ease into the moment.

"yeah, what are the chances? we're on the same flight," you remarked, a small grin settling on your face as well—hanni's smile was very contagious when you weren't distracted by her beauty, you noted.

hanni nodded, grin widening. "seems like the universe has its plans. maybe it's fate?" she quipped.

"haha, maybe."

a moment of silence passed, and you both burst into a fit of giggles.

you never believed in fate, despite your friends talking your ear off about it. whenever they asked for your input, you brushed it off as a silly superstition. comes with messing around doing stunts all the time, you supposed. after all, you were unpredictable, and so was the world. the thought of your future being predetermined made you shudder.

wanting to continue the conversation, you racked your brain for anything she told you earlier. what was it she was doing... ah, music!

you cleared your throat, bringing hanni out of a daze. she turned her attention to you, eyebrows raised.

"you're doing music, right?" she nodded, "yeah, i've already signed with a company and all."

"really? which company?"

she hummed thoughtfully, and pursed her lips. "sorry, i'm not allowed to tell."

"ah, that's okay," you said, scratching your neck. "do you play an instrument? or do you sing?"

"i do both, actually!" she said with a smile, her voice warming. "but i'm focusing on singing. what about you? you do art, right?"

you perked up at the mention of art. "yes, i do, i love painting," you said, eyes brightening.

"actually, there was this time where i tried to smash my head through the canvas for a project- hey, don't laugh, let me finish! i tried to make it so that the end product would be my face, with action lines outside the rip marks, but the canvas broke in half, and i ended up with a ton of scratches on my face..."

the two of you continued to chatter away, the conversation flowing effortlessly between you. your surroundings became a blur as you lost yourselves in the moment, unaware of anything happening outside of your bubble of conversation.

you suddenly remembered that you were waiting for a flight, and frowned. "hey, don't you think it's been a while since they've said anything? it's close to boarding ti-"

the calm voice of a flight attendant interrupted your question.

"attention all passengers going from melbourne to incheon: there's been some technical difficulties, and we are disappointed to inform you that your flight will be delayed. departure time will be pushed back by approximately one hour. thank you."

as murmurs spread through the gate and disappointed voices filled the air, you felt a sense of frustration wash over you. fishing your phone out of your pocket, you quickly sent a text to your aunt about the delay, your irritation evident in your furrowed brow.

hanni puffed out her cheeks in frustration. "ugh, unlucky."

you nodded in agreement, a sigh escaping your lips. "yeah, it's frustrating. now we're gonna be there even later in the night," you replied, your gaze shifting from your phone to meet hanni's disappointed eyes.

"i guess there's nothing we can do about it now."

"yeah, i guess so."

hanni always thought she led an honest life, steering out of trouble and focusing on her passion for music. she made sure to feed the dogs, keep up with her studies, help her mom cook, and get along with her younger sister. she had a lot of friends, and she was in a dance cover group with some of them too. she played the ukulele, guitar, and piano, and she sang as well.

then she auditioned for hybe, and passed. her family was proud of her, and she left to korea for training shortly after. she missed home a lot. like waking up to milly and mia's excited barks for breakfast, or bickering with her sister in the car on the way home from shopping, or having family bonding time during dinner.

love was the last thing on her mind when she started training. sure, she's had some crushes here and there, but she's never pursued any of them. that was all there was to it; just a silly crush. when she became a trainee, any thoughts of crushes in hanni's mind were pushed aside for dancing and singing lessons, as well as korean classes.

but after your fateful encounter (or, well, encounters) at the airport, hanni thought she could forget about coming back to training for at least one day.

from the moment she saw you, hanni pham was dazzled. when you bumped into her, you immediately apologized, and even picked up her bag for her. when you finally looked at her, and she could see your face, hanni almost screamed. you were so, so, beautiful. and she had to make her leave before she actually screamed.

then hanni saw you again at a random airport cafe, and everything clicked. lady luck must've finally looked on her side this time, because there were clearly open tables all around you, but you still let her sit with you. with that, she let the conversation flow between the two of you.

by the end of your second encounter, hanni must've thought her luck ran out by now and left with an open offer, knowing you would never see her again after she left.

and then you finally reunited at the gate. well, if hanni thought her luck ran out at the cafe, then it had definitely run out now. there was absolutely no way she could get any luckier than being on the same flight as you.

was it bad she's started to develop a crush on you?

there was a thump next to her, and hanni felt an added weight fall on her shoulder. she turned to see if you dropped something, but it seemed that your head dropped on her shoulder, having fallen asleep. your head. on her shoulder. you fell asleep on her shoulder.

hanni's face was bright red at the realization. you fell asleep! on her shoulder! her body immediately tensed, instinctively trying to get you off, but gave up after you only shifted closer to her. and well, she didn't want to interrupt your sleep, since you seemed exhausted just moments ago.

she couldn't help but think your sleeping face was beautiful too.

"attention all passengers going from melbourne to incheon: apologies for the wait. boarding will begin in 15 minutes. thank you."

the announcement jolted you awake, and you sleepily rubbed your eyes and lifted your head from where you were leaning it on, stretching your neck to hear a few satisfying cracks.

"did you sleep well? you just suddenly passed out; i was worried," a soft voice asked.

you tried to blink out more of the sleep out of your eyes and focus on the voice next to you, finally seeing hanni's concerned expression.

clearing your throat, which was hoarse from your nap, you offered her a sheepish smile. "yeah, i slept well. i was so anxious last night that i went to sleep really late, that's probably why. sorry about that."

hanni nodded. "no worries! going away from home is scary, i agree."

you tried to reach for your phone, only to look down and see hanni's jacket draped over you. 'huh?' you thought. 'wait, come to think of it, what was i sleeping on?'

you shot a glance over to hanni, who tilted her head. you squinted your eyes, trying to connect the dots. then, it hit you like a pile of bricks: you fell asleep on hanni's shoulder. your cheeks dusted pink in embarrassment, and you cringed at even the thought of it.

'god, that's embarrassing!' you thought, feeling a sense of mortification burning in your chest. 'she even used her jacket as a blanket for me, and she asked if i was okay when i woke up...'

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" you blurted out, the words tumbling out of you in a rush. "i really didn't mean to fall asleep on you, i mean i didn't even realize i was falling asleep, but-"

hanni giggled, the pleasant sound resounding through your ears.

"it's okay, y/n. i don't mind."

'ah... it's almost like an angel got sent down from earth.'

despite you intruding on her personal space, hanni was still so kind and considerate to you, even though you only met each other a couple hours ago. a heavy blush overtook your face.

"here's your jacket back, at least," you offered, a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment showing in your tone.

she shook her head, waving her hands. "oh no, you can keep it on. you must be cold in only that sweater."

you opened your mouth to protest, but ended up just smiling.

was it too soon to say you liked her?

the flight attendant walked up and down the aisle, checking for everyone's seatbelts. you and hanni sat comfortably towards the front of the plane, flashing friendly smiles at each other.

you and hanni sitting next to each other? what? wait, let's rewind. how did you find yourself sitting next to hanni, the girl of your dreams who you were talking to at the gate, and at the cafe, and outside of the security checkpoint?

well, the two of you were in the same boarding group. and taking a look at your tickets, you were actually seated right next to each other.

funny how fate plays out, huh.

it seemed like hanni was thinking the same thing, because she started giggling, nudging your shoulder.

"it's funny how fate plays out, huh?"

"absolutely," you replied with a grin, matching hanni's playful tone. "seems like fate has quite the sense of humor, doesn't it?"

hanni giggled again, her laughter echoing softly in the aisle.

"definitely," she agreed, a hint of amusement sparkling in her eyes. "who knew our paths would cross like this? and especially so many times in a day?"

as the flight attendants made their final rounds, you relaxed in your seat and turned to observe hanni, who was looking out the window. her gaze wandered, from the people on the ground crew to other planes preparing for takeoff. you noticed her shiver, and quickly took her jacket off from your shoulders and draped it over both of your laps.

surprised, she looked over to you with raised eyebrows, then smiling at you, mouthing a 'thanks'. she turned her attention back to the window.

you directed your gaze to your lap, leaning back in your seat. your seatbelt kept you from slouching back. you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you unlocked it to see a text from hyein.

from: mom's favorite child (🐣) UNNIE!!!!!! 😚😚 what do u want for dinner moms asking also did u get the keychains 😈

you laughed to yourself, typing in your response. you purposely waited between each message sent, to tease her; hyein always hated when you did that.

to: mom's favorite child (🐣) hi hyein 🤓 i want kimchi jjigae!! also [attachment: 1 image] yes i did

you almost drooled at the thought of your aunt's kimchi-jjigae. the first time you had it, you were hooked. no matter how many times your mom tried to recreate her sister's cooking, it never hit the same as when you'd stay at hyein's house for the holidays and wake up to the smell of your favorite dish in the morning.

from: mom's favorite child (🐣) got it o7 (replied to [attachment: 1 image]) ↪ AHH THEYRE SO CUTE OMGOMG (replied to "hi hyein 🤓") ↪ who are you calling a nerd.

giggling to yourself, you decided to leave hyein on read, swiping out of her contact after reacting to her text confirming your request with a heart.

the jets of the plane fired up, starting to taxi down the runway, and you pocketed your phone and joined hanni in looking out the window.

"have you flown here before?" she asked, keeping her gaze outside.

you hummed, thinking back to your very eventful past visits to your aunt's place for vacation.

"yeah. i have family here, that's where i'm staying for college." you said. "i've gone over a bunch of times for the holidays."

the girl next to you stayed quiet, still staring outside. the plane started to tilt up, and you could see hanni bite her lip. as the aircraft gained elevation, going higher and higher, her eyes grew shut and her face scrunched up.

then her hand flew to yours, clasping yours with an almost crushing grip, eliciting a slight wince from you.

"hanni...?"

her eyes remained tightly shut as she stuttered out a response. "so-sorry! i'm a bit... afraid. of- of planes."

you felt the plane make a sharp tilt to the right, and the left, and hanni's grip only intensified.

"no matter how many times, i- i fly... it doesn't seem to get any better... i'm sorry," she mumbled. if you weren't craning your head to listen, you wouldn't have caught half of what she was saying, considering she was trying to focus on containing her fear.

her hold on you loosened, almost as if she was ashamed, but you only responded by firmly squeezing her hand back. if she's scared, then you should comfort her, right? it's only the right thing to do.

the action caused her to whip her head towards you, her gaze darting between your hand tightly grasping hers and your face. this went on for a few seconds, your concern for the girl growing as the moment stretched on. you watched her closely, noticing the furrow in her brow and the tension in her soft features.

when she finally stopped at your face, you offered her a comforting smile. she blinked a few times, widening her eyes, and reciprocating the gesture.

the plane started to stabilize in the air, letting hanni's anxiety simmer down while you rubbed soothing circles into her palm. it seemed to help, since her shoulders visibly relaxed as she took deep breaths, flashing a grateful smile to you. despite the plane now flying steadily, you never let go of her hand, continuing to offer a sense of solace in case the girl's anxiety spiked.

after around 10 minutes (you didn't really know, your watch was in your bag and you still hadn't let go of hanni's hand) a flight attendant started making her first round down the aisle for drinks and biscuits. as she reached your row, her cheeks raised up in a cooing smile, her gaze clearly lingering on you and hanni's now-intertwined hands.

"aren't you two just the cutest couple," she remarked, her smile widening.

hanni's cheeks flushed, and she quickly shook her head, stammering, "oh, no, i'm, we're not-"

before she could deny the attendant's assumptions, though, you swiftly interjected, flashing a grateful smile to the attendant. "thank you. we'll have a cup of water," you glanced at hanni, thinking for a moment, "and some hot tea."

the attendant gladly poured your refreshments, sending you a "hwaiting!" gesture before moving on to the next row.

"i'm so sorry," you turned to hanni, releasing her hand. a wave of disappointment hit you at the loss of hanni's warmth. she seemed to share the feeling, although you didn't notice.

"it's fine. it would've been embarrassing for all three of us, anyway."

"yeah..."

the two of you turned away from each other, blushes overtaking your features.

'the thought of dating her doesn't seem so bad.'

it had been about an hour and a half since takeoff. you texted some of your friends, who checked in on you frequently, asking things like 'are you dead' or 'did the plane crash yet', to which you replied 'not yet sadly' or something similar. you were doodling random cats in your notes app in between texts.

to your left, hanni had pulled out a book, seeming invested in the pages filled with words of plot. she was almost at the end, you noticed—there were only a few pages left.

a few more minutes passed, and the girl closed the book with a content sigh. after tucking the book safely into her carry-on bag, she peeked around her, her eyes landing on you, scanning your features.

"hey, how'd you get this scar on your cheek?"

you felt a poke on your upper cheekbone, hanni's finger pressing lightly on the tender patch of skin. you brought your hand up to your face to touch the already fading scar, and tried to remember which incident it was from.

"i think it's from when i jumped out one of the school windows," you answered, turning to look at hanni.

"oh," she replied, then raised her eyebrow. "wait, what? you jumped out the window?"

you scratched your neck, feeling embarrassed. 'she's definitely gonna be scared away after i tell her,' you thought ruefully. glancing over to hanni, you quickly realized you weren't going to get away with not telling her the backstory of the scar.

you sighed. "it's not that interesting, i mean..."

the girl beside you watched with expectant eyes, eagerly awaiting your next words. you pondered, wondering if you should really tell her.

"i set off some firecrackers on the school roof, and they found out it was me not even five minutes later," you explained, "i sped down the stairs and hid in some cleaning closet. but they somehow knew i was in there, so i had to jump out the window and run home before they caught me."

a few beats of silence followed, your self consciousness catching up to you as the tip of your ears flushed bright red. when you sneaked a glance to your left, you saw hanni's mouth agape.

"wow," she blinked. "that's insane."

"i know."

you rubbed your elbow, fidgeting with the fabric of your sleeve. 'she's definitely weirded out. see, y/n, this is why girls never-'

"but you're okay, right?"

'huh?' you thought to yourself, then facing hanni. she had a worried smile on her face, head tilted to the side. your cheeks burned. you couldn't win against pretty girls.

"oh. yeah, i am. i just landed in a bush, and a branch scratched me."

she nodded, scanning your features. aside from the one on your cheek, there were a few other minor scars on your face, from similar events, although those were more hidden. there were a lot of them around your body too, from burn marks to scratches and cuts.

"what's this one from, then?" she pointed under your ear, where a small scar from a healed cut laid.

"this one? it's kind of recent. i was trying to make an outline of myself with throwing darts, but my friend had terrible aim. it grazed my neck."

hanni winced, cringing as she imagined how that felt for you. "yikes."

she thought for a moment, a memory resurfacing at the mention of darts.

"that reminds me, there was a time me and my friends were playing darts, but we all kept missing the board," she smiled, reminiscing on the past moment. "we hit everything in the house but the dartboard."

you smiled as well, finding humor in the similarities between you and hanni's experiences. well, except for the fact that your friend was supposed to miss you, the target.

"what did your parents say?" you asked, genuinely curious. your parents usually restricted your actions, like not letting you go out after school or supervising your purchases, but ultimately let you off the hook in the end. you thanked them for that mentally, albeit feeling a tad guilty for being spoiled.

she tapped her chin. "they just scolded us and told us not to do it again. and we had to clean up our mess—there were a bunch of darts on the ground, and things that fell because of the darts."

you laughed, finding her memory relatable. there were countless times you were made to clean up your messes, although you didn't exactly learn from your "mistakes." (you considered them "happy accidents," as bob ross said. alas, your peers, relatives, and teachers alike, disagreed.)

"how did your parents react to your injuries?" hanni questioned, her expression softening.

"well..."

you and hanni started getting to know each other better, warm and lively conversation filling the air. you learned that she was raised in melbourne, and that both of her parents were vietnamese. she had two dogs and a younger sister, and she played a variety of instruments.

you told her about some other incidents, to which she was amused by, and touched lightly on the awards you've received for your paintings.

topics shifted constantly, the two of you seeming not to run out of things to talk about. with debates on something as trivial as which juice flavor was better, more memories from your childhood came flooding back, the two of you sharing your experiences and bonding over them.

'this is nice,' you thought, a glimmer of hope rising. 'maybe, things will go well this time.'

from: 🆕👖 (soon) meanjee 🐻 hanni are you on the plane? kitty kang 😾 did you bring the tim tams dani ☀ omg did you get tim tams for us 🥺🥺 you yes dw i also made a friend meanjee 🐻 who dont lie 🤣😂 you excuse me her names y/n shes an artist guys shes so cute 😭 we kept bumping into each other and guess what kitty kang 😾 you tripped over yourself? dani ☀ you asked her out!? you (replied to kitty kang 😾: you tripped...) ↪ do you want the tim tams or not kitty kang. (replied to dani ☀: you asked her...) ↪ NO we just met but i was TRYING to say that we bumped into each other accidentally like 3 times and we're on the same flight and sit next to each other dani ☀ it's destiny!! meanjee 🐻 i never thought i'd see the day hanni having luck in girls 💀 you WOW im js gna ignore that. remember my fear of flying? she held my hand the whole time bc she saw i was scared :(( shes js so AUGH :] i think she likes me too kitty kang 😾 she has more game than you im glad she could comfort you though dani ☀ AWW that's so cute you two are so cute i wanna meet her! you maybe if things go well with her hyeinie THE BEST MAKN😎E hiii whats going on (replied to you: excuse me her names...) ↪ wait did u say y/n?? you yeah why? hyeinie THE BEST MAKN😎E um actually its nothing i have to help mom with cooking bye unnies!! you ???

hanni stared at your hand, which was holding out an earbud, in confusion. she tilted her head.

"ah, sorry. do you want to listen to something with me? you can choose the song," you smiled, showing your phone screen which displayed the spotify search menu. (you made sure that it stayed on the search bar and not showing one of your many embarrassing playlist names.)

her eyebrows raised, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes as she processed your words. you swallowed nervously, about to retract your hand until she took the earbud from your hold, her hands brushing against yours briefly.

"sure," she agreed, then reaching for the device from your other, outstretched palm. "do you like daniel caesar?"

your bangs fell over your face as you nodded eagerly, blocking your vision. you moved to tuck your hair behind your ear, though hanni beat you to it, her cold hands contrasting with your now-burning-red ears.

hanni cleared her throat with a quiet cough, breaking into a smile shortly after. the two of you listened to the melody of the song that was being played into your shared earbuds, hanni occasionally humming along.

"and i'd love to make you mine," she softly sang, her gentle voice filling your ears. she sounded like cotton candy, so sweet, like honey drizzled over warm toast on a sunny afternoon. each word that she sang sent you into bliss, arrows of cupid piercing your heart. 'maybe,' you thought, 'just maybe. i'll ask her out on a date by the end of this flight.'

the last few seconds of the song faded out and started playing whatever was recommended by your spotify (which was a wave to earth song) but you couldn't pay attention as you found yourself replaying hanni's singing in your head.

noticing your furrowed eyebrows and your dazed look, hanni nudged your shoulder. "sorry, was i too loud? i tend to sing along sometimes; it's always been a habit of mine."

you widened your eyes, shaking your head no. "no, you're fine! i think your singing is quite nice, actually. you have," you blushed, "a very pretty voice."

her cheeks lifted into a closed smile, sending a flutter through your chest. you took a few deep breaths, trying to calm your thumping heart. at least you didn't panic at everything she did, unlike the past 10? 20? times she did so much as smile.

"thank you," she giggled, leaning her head on yours. deep breaths were not going to help in your situation, since it seemed to get even worse for your heart every time. instead, you focused on the song playing in your ear, and the rise and fall of hanni's chest. it wasn't too long after the next song started when you started hearing small snores next to you.

'ah,' you thought. 'she must've been tired.'

moving her head to sit more comfortably on your shoulder, you brushed her bangs out of her face, unconsciously smiling at how peaceful she looked asleep. you adjusted the jacket that was laid over both of your laps to cover more of her legs instead of yours, slightly shivering as you instantly felt the cold from the cabin aircon replacing the warmth from hanni’s fleece jacket.

‘oh, well.’

you rested your head on top of hers, sarah kang’s once in a moon quietly playing into your shared earbuds, and you let yourself slowly drift off to join hanni in dreamland.

"mmph..."

you groaned as you rubbed your eyes sleepily. your neck was stiff, your shoulder was sore, and you had 12 different cramps in your legs from your uncomfortable position in the airplane seat.

hanni shifted on your shoulder, and you panicked, thinking you might've woken her up from your stretching. thankfully, her soft snores continued after a few moments.

you sighed in relief. you would've felt insanely guilty if you ended up waking her.

stretching your shoulders back, (though still careful not to wake the sleeping girl leaning on you) you reached into your backpack under the seat in front of you, and pulled out your sketchbook.

the thing itself was around a year old. over that year, you'd nearly filled it to the brim with dozens of drawings, including ones you drew on buses, trains, at parks, in history class, on your bed, everywhere. similarly, you kept a sketchbook for each year prior to the one currently in your hand. it was almost time to retire this one; you only had about 3 pages left.

taking a small pen out from your wallet, you pressed the fine tip to the smooth beige paper, soon letting your arm move freely across the page, sketching things you could see around you—the overhead aircon, someone's paper cup of water from the recent beverage round sitting on their tray table, and...

you looked to hanni, then back to your sketchbook. you'd subconsciously started drawing hanni while looking around your surroundings (or, lack thereof). although it was quite difficult to get a decent look of her features as a whole, you managed to sketch out the way her bangs framed her face, the curve of her eyelashes, and her mouth slightly ajar.

the people around you must've thought you were crazy watching you try to lean forward to look at hanni, while also trying to keep your movements minimal as to not wake her. but that was okay. people back home already saw you as crazy when you did anything, especially after the wheelie incident, which you didn't want to think about.

after finishing the initial sketch, your hand appeared to have a mind of its own, because it moved to the next page over and started doodling more of hanni. you squinted your eyes, trying to remember what she looked like when she bumped into you, when she sat across from you at the cafe, and when she was sipping from the cup of tea you called for her a few hours ago.

the page was filled with hanni's face in the blink of an eye. you didn't know how it happened, but it would be really embarrassing if said girl woke up and saw this right now.

"mmm..."

...why didn't anything go your way?

you flipped back to the page full of doodles of the cabin before she could see anything, covering the page with your sleeve. you tensed your shoulders in nervousness, quietly clearing your throat.

"sleep well, hanni?"

hanni's lips upturned into a sleepy smile (you screamed a little mentally at her cuteness) and she nodded, giving you a thumbs up.

"thanks for letting me use you as a pillow," she said, rubbing your numb shoulder.

you laughed to yourself, mostly because you couldn't feel your shoulder as hanni touched it. "it's no problem. i wasn't going to let you have neck cramps from leaning on the wall."

she nodded again, stretching out her muscles and letting out a big yawn. her eyes shifted back towards you and down at your lap, where you placed your sketchbook.

"what's that?"

a bead of cold sweat rolled down your forehead, and you gulped. what if she was creeped out at your drawings of her? then, your mind wandered to the moments you shared just earlier, and you thought, 'there's no way hanni would act like that.'

you shyly uncovered the page, passing the book to the girl, watching intently as she pored over the details that you'd meticulously drawn. her mouth gaped in astonishment, in awe of your ability to capture the scene around you.

she turned her head towards you, eyes sparkling. "this is amazing, y/n!"

you bashfully scratched your neck, giving her a sheepish smile.

"it's nothing, really," you tried to say, but her attention was already on the next page.

"this is... me?"

crap.

"um, yeah. it is. there's not much to see from our seats, so i ended up drawing mostly you," you tried to defend, hoping she wouldn't take your actions badly. "you're also, very," you cleared your throat, blushing, "pretty. very... pretty, yeah."

she grinned, cheeks dusted pink, and trailed her hand down the page, tracing over the soft features—her features—that you'd effortlessly drawn as she slept.

"can i keep it?" she asked, looking into your eyes for approval.

shrinking back from the unexpected eye contact, you gulped and nodded. you were thinking about giving it to her anyway.

"yes. i'd love to give it to you, as something to remember me by, haha."

after you finished your sentence, you gently grabbed the sketchbook from hanni's already offering hands, and left your signature on it. the ripping sound of the book hummed as you removed the page from the confines of the spiral spine, handing it to your seatmate.

her grin grew wider as she accepted the paper. "thank you so much, seriously. this is so cool!"

"it's no problem," you laughed, tipping your invisible hat to her.

the flight intercom beeped.

"hello, this is your pilot speaking. we have arrived in incheon, local time is 10:42 pm. please make sure your seatbelt is secured and your seat trays and window blinds are up, and also unplug any devices you may have. enjoy your stay in korea and have a good night."

hanni, who just tucked your drawing into her bag, looked over to you with surprised eyes. "it's the end already? i swear we've just been here for like, 3 hours."

you were shocked too, your eyebrows raised. "i know, right? but i guess we did spend a lot of it sleeping."

"yeah, you're right," she giggled.

you took a deep breath, not knowing what to say. "it was, um... really nice getting to know you. i know it was weird seeing each other so much in a day by chance," you said, "and uh, if you'd like, we could, um, go out on a date sometime?"

a scarlet blush overtook your face, and you think the people behind and in front of you must've heard you say that because you heard a gasp or two from your surroundings.

hanni's face was terribly red as well, and it made you feel a little better knowing you weren't having one-sided feelings.

"o-okay. deal."

the rest of the time spent after that was a blur to you, and it took you until you sat down on hyein's living room couch that you forgot to give hanni your number.

holy shit, y/n. you asked a girl out on a date. and after spending basically the whole day together, you forgot to exchange contact info with her? this was on a whole new level of sick and twisted, even for you.

"we're home!" a gruff voice called, followed by the sound of the heavy door closing, and the sound of excited footsteps followed, rushing in your direction.

a minute later, you got tackled by a very hyper hyein.

"unnie! unnie, you're here!"

her hold on you was incredibly tight. you don't think you could squeeze out even if you wanted to. nonetheless, you returned the embrace, patting her on the back and nuzzling your nose into her messy hair.

"hey, hyeinie. i missed you," you murmured, moving your hand up to card through her dark brown locks.

your younger cousin's eyes sparkled, and she broke out into a huge grin. you felt yourself being squeezed even tighter, before you coughed and wheezed out, "can't- breathe."

your uncle gently separated hyein from you, and you stood up so you could bow and give him a hug.

"welcome back, y/n!" he laughed, giving you a rough slap on the back which made you stumble a little.

your uncle was a warmhearted man, much like your father, even though they weren't blood-related. you didn't exactly know what he worked as, but he was always dressed to the nines whenever he went out, regardless of the occasion.

"i'm glad to be back. i'll be staying for a while, too," you added.

turning and smiling at hyein, you ruffled her hair, making her stand up and do it back to you. thankfully, you dodged in time. wait, did you shrink? or...

"hyein, you got taller again!" you exclaimed. last christmas, she was at about your height; a little above average, a solid 5'6. but looking at her now, she was probably around 5'7, almost as tall as her dad.

the younger girl blinked, staring wide-eyed at you. she slid her hand from the top of her head to the empty space above yours. being honest, the difference wasn't all that much, but your brow twitched at having to even slightly flicker your eyes up to make eye contact.

"did i?"

this was starting to irk you. you knew that hyein just realized this was something she could hold against you, and that was the last thing you wanted to happen.

defeatedly, you sighed.

"dinner is ready!" your aunt called from the kitchen. your eyes lit up as the scent of your favorite kimchi-jjigae wafted through the air. bless your aunt's soul.

you slowly turned to your cousin, a glint in your eye.

"last one there is a rotten egg."

and then, chaos.

"y/n, you haven't been here in a while. now that you're here to stay, would you like to do anything in korea?"

you adjusted the bandaid on your knee, and hissed as hyein pressed on the bruise just below it. of course, you hurt yourself while trying to race the younger lee to the dining room.

snapping your eyes to your aunt, who was setting the pot of stew in the middle of the dining table, you tried to think of something you've never had a chance to do. but you've been to korea countless times before, and you'd always gotten to do something new. it'd been around a year since you last came, since your relatives came to you for christmas 7 months ago.

"i guess... just walking around like a local? going to a café, walking around the city. and..." you bit your lip, struggling to remember the name of the theme park that was so famous.

"oh!" you snapped your fingers, "lotte world!"

hyein's hand twitched. one glance at her, and you could see that she was practically buzzing with excitement. she looked as if she was about to bounce off the walls like a pinball. you pinched her arm, causing her to yelp.

"lotte world! that sounds fun," your uncle commented, "i wish i could join. work's been busy lately."

your aunt laughed, "me too! but y/n," she shot you a stern look, "don't go causing trouble for people. i don't want to see you on the news for the wrong reasons."

'that's very encouraging and totally non-threatening!' you shivered. still, her words only tempted you. knowing you, it wouldn't be long into the school year before you were a known figure on campus.

portions of the stew were distributed to everyone's bowl, and you licked your lips. you didn't have anything on the plane, since you'd slept through most of it and missed the in-flight meal.

"thank you for the food," you said, before bringing a spoonful of the stew to your lips.

with that single bite, you think you've ascended to heaven and above. you wolfed down the rest of the food, eating like you hadn't eaten in a week (which you felt like you didn't) and before you knew it, you'd finished your dinner. seeing this, hyein also tried to finish her food quickly, but was stopped by your aunt.

taking a few swigs of water, you looked to your aunt, who watched you in bewilderment. "auntie, that was so good. seriously, that was soooo good. can i have seconds?"

everyone at the table broke out into a fit of laughter.

"of course, y/n."

as dinner went on, and you caught up with hyein and her parents, everyone had finished their serving, and you, your third serving. you tried to help your aunt with the dishes, but she just shooed you away to you and hyein's shared room.

despite already having been in the bedroom to drop off your luggage, you let your cousin lead you to it. it was very spacious, having enough room to hold a sizable tv that you could watch netflix on from the bed, and enough room to walk around comfortably. hyein's desk was messy, as always. it was filled with school papers, colored pencils and highlighters, and a book you got her the last time you visited.

speaking of the bed, it had been replaced by a very charming bunk bed, complete with fluffy white comforters and a surprisingly stable ladder. you already claimed the bottom bunk as yours, your phone laying on the plush pillow.

"tada!" hyein presented to you, doing jazz hands towards the bed. "i know you've already seen it, but try laying in it! it's pretty comfy for a bunk bed."

following her suggestion, you went ahead and sat yourself on the bed, immediately sighing in content. moving your phone so you could lay down, you swung your legs over the bedframe so you could soak in the comforting feeling of the bed. the mattress was fairly soft, perfect for your strange sleeping positions. you flashed an upraised thumb to hyein, who grinned triumphantly.

she puffed up her cheeks. "see?"

"i do see, hyeinie," you said, reaching for your backpack, "before i forget..."

the younger lee gasped at the sight of the matching kangeroo plush keychains, even though she'd already seen them over text. one was purple, her favorite color, and the other, blue. attached to their hands were small magnets, which would allow them to connect together.

she squealed, holding the purple one to her chest. "they're so cute! i love it, thank you y/n-unnie."

you were, once again, brought into a soul-crushing hug. 'at least hyein is happy.'

10 minutes later and you and hyein were now wrapped up in a fiery race of mario kart. you had successfully hooked up your switch to the tv just a bit ago, and of course you had to compete with her in your shared favorite game. it was a tradition for the two of you to play through at least two rounds of the grand prix mode, usually playing for the special cup for one of the rounds.

a hand covered your field of vision, and you batted it away, groaning at your little cousin. "stop, i was winning!"

she cheekily stuck out her tongue, swiftly overtaking you in the race. you cursed whoever picked the mushroom cup (you did) because the piranha plants in sweet sweet canyon were beating your ass, and your rank just kept dropping after hyein rudely interrupted your groove with her hand.

"ahhh..." you sighed as a bot passed you on the second lap. setting the cpu level at the maximum was a mistake. hastily, you collected the power up block, your eyes lighting up seeing the formidable blue shell on the dice roll. spotting the shortcut, you performed a sharp-angled drift that you were only able to do after years of perfecting the technique, and expertly boosted yourself to catch yourself up to 4th place.

it appeared that hyein was too focused on smoothly driving through the track, so she didn't notice your newly-acquired trump card. you smirked. 'she won't see it coming,' you mischievously thought.

it was now the third lap. you were saving the shell for right before the finish line, and you were currently in a solid 3rd place, with hyein in 1st and a bot in front of you.

the younger lee glanced at your side of the screen and widened her eyes. 'did she just now notice i had the blue shell?'

"unnie! you can't! i'm so close to winning!" she shouted. the finish line was nearly in sight. the bot slipped on a banana peel and your smile only widened as you watched the flailing animation while passing by. hyein tried kicking you to distract you, but it was no use. you had already thrown the power up that would help you win the race.

"checkmate," you smugly said as you patted hyein's back. the girl was watching the finish screen in despair, gripping her controller tightly in annoyance.

she slowly turned to you, a menacingly determined look on her face. "i'll win the next one. it's thwomp ruins, you suck at thwomp ruins."

damn it. she was right.

hyein ended up winning the next race, as she declared. you always had trouble avoiding the obstacles on the track, much to your dismay. with that win, she also won the cup, because she also won the first two races. you blamed it on the jetlag.

(when you awoke, you felt a heavy weight on your chest. you blinked, barely making out the image of hyein laying on you, softly snoring. you checked your phone. 5:12 am. well, whatever. it was too early to think about anything. gently combing your fingers through her hair, you fell back asleep.)

“y/n?”

the door to your shared bedroom creaked open, and you shoved the covers over your face.

“y/n, it’s 11:30, wake up,” the voice called.

slowly, you peeked from under the comforter that was very much doing its job at keeping you comfortable, to see your aunt standing in the doorway with a ladle. reluctantly, you climbed out of bed.

"morning, auntie," you mumbled as you rubbed your eyes, making your way to the bedroom door.

she stepped aside to let you exit the room. "good morning, sleepyhead."

you spent a few minutes to brush your teeth and wash your face in the bathroom before coming out to the living room. the house was eerily quiet without the presence of your uncle and hyein.

...wait, where's hyein?

looking around suspiciously, you still found no trace of the younger girl in the house. she was gone when you woke up, too. where could she have gone? it was summer break, and hyein was barely entering high school.

coughing, you asked your aunt, "um, where's hyein gone?"

"oh, she's at the company. she has practice today, didn't she tell you?"

"what practice?"

"...dance practice? vocal lessons? she's debuting this month, remember?"

debut... dance... vocal... that rings a bell...

'wait, what the fuck? is hyein a kpop idol?'

your heart beat faster at the revelation. hyein? your cute little cousin who you swore had just graduated from elementary school two years ago? you knew she took dance lessons, and her other activities that came to a halt last year, but... debut? she was still a kid! and it sounded like this debut was serious, the real next step in her career.

your emotions were all jumbled up upon thinking more on the matter. why didn't she tell you?

"y/n? hey, how about you eat now," she placed a bowl in front of you, "and maybe later you can talk to hyein about it. don't worry until then."

"easier said than done," you replied, digging into the rice with your spoon. but she was right. you could talk to hyein later; you still had to unpack your bags.

breakfast tasted dry and bland, even though you were sure your aunt cooked it with perfection and love in mind. there were just too many thoughts in your mind.

putting your finished bowl in the sink and washing it, you shuffled back into you and hyein's room, intending to tidy up the space and also set your things down. this was where you'd be living for the next four or more years, after all.

this bedroom brought back memories. what used to be a guest room that five-year-old you would sleep in during the holidays, was now turned into your dear little cousin's haven of comfort. from the moment she was born, you've adored her—it was like having a little sibling, since you were an only child. the guest room was more lively, more full of energy with hyein there.

as she grew up, there were times where she, of course, kicked you out of the room, because it was 'too embarrassing' to have her older cousin sleep in the same room with her. although you always woke up in the middle of that night to see a hyein-shaped lump on top of you. it was endearing, really, to see, to know that the girl loved you as much as you did her.

you traced your finger along the edges of the old closet in the corner of the room. there was a barely noticeable dent on the side, from when you were playing a game of operation and accidentally threw the tweezers too hard in a fit of rage.

a piece of duct tape you'd painted white that was stuck onto it for a good week, because that was the best that a 14-year-old and a 9-year-old could think of. your mom and auntie still got mad, though.

you got to cleaning and unpacking, patiently waiting for time to pass so hyein could come home and you could talk.

dinner came and went, and you were now sitting on the bed, waiting for your cousin who was washing up in the bathroom.

"hey unnie... why are you just sitting there?"

you wordlessly patted the space next to you, your silence being an indicator that what you wanted to talk about was serious.

"why didn't you tell me you were a trainee?"

"..."

"hyein?"

she stared at her lap, guilty. "i..." she choked out, "every time you came, i was just having so much fun. and i didn't know when to tell you because i thought you would make fun of me, or something. i don't know."

hyein sniffled, and looked at you with tears streaming down her cheeks. you sighed and wiped them away with your thumb. she continued.

"and this training, i know you think it's a lot for me and it is, but my members, they make it so much fun. and i'm so close to achieving my dreams, y/n-unnie! july 22nd. that's in 20 days, i'm gonna be a real idol. topping the charts, i just, urgh-"

you brought her into a hug, rubbing her back as she sobbed into your shoulder.

"...i support you. i'm not judging you, i was just worried about you," you planted a kiss on her forehead.

"you're my baby cousin, of course i wanna protect you from the nasty entertainment industry. but... if this is what you want to do, then i'll cheer you on from debut to retirement."

she sniffled. "that's in like, a gazillion years, you're gonna be dead by then."

"shush," you pulled her back into your embrace, "let's just go to sleep."

at 6 am, you woke up with hyein sleeping soundly on your chest, again. this time, you carefully slid out of bed, brushing your teeth in the bathroom, and then sauntering over to the kitchen where your aunt was already awake and cooking breakfast.

"up so early?"

you groaned. mornings were never for you, especially since you always stayed up to paint during your spurts of inspiration.

"i talked to hyein." a pause. your aunt took a minute to wash her hands, and turned around to face you.

"and?"

"i told her i support her. and we fell asleep talking about which member of bts was the best. and now my eyes are super swollen 'cause we had a crying session right before that."

in the background, you could faintly hear the sound of rushing water. hyein must be awake.

"morning..." the younger girl walked in, rubbing her eyes.

you smiled. "good morning, hyeinie."

"woah, you're awake... you're usually passed out at this time."

"are you disappointed?"

"settle down, kids. breakfast's ready."

you ate in silence, occasionally asking for a napkin, or asking how each other's sleep went, and hyein went in to go get dressed for the day.

the sound of the garage door opening resounded throughout the house; uncle must be back from running errands.

"that's me," your cousin said. you adjusted the cap on her head.

"you're sleeping on the bottom bunk tonight, just so you know. i don't want you falling off in the morning, while i'm 'passed out'."

she slipped on her shoes, grinning widely at you. then, she set off with a skip in her step. you shook your head at the sight, giggling.

a few hours later, around noon, your aunt came into your room holding a wrapped... lunch? it looked like the ones you would get from your own mother for field trips, a boxed lunch wrapped with a cloth with a cute design on it. you paused in the middle of your painting of the view from your window. it was time to take a break, anyway.

"what's this?" you took it from her. the cloth concealed the smell pretty well, so you couldn't tell what was in it.

your aunt crossed her arms. "hyein's lunch."

okay... that's weird. why would she come in and give you hyein's lunch? wasn't she supposed to- oh. "you want me to bring it to her, don't you."

she only nodded, leaving the room right after.

hybe entertainment was a big building. like, a seriously big building. it was also weirdly pleasing to look at, but you thought that way with how the city looked in general with all those big buildings with their fully windowed walls.

hyein's manager was supposed to come get you at the lobby. it felt awkward waiting there, since it was so prim and proper compared to any other place you'd been to. you felt out of place. you were just a trainee's cousin, not some important figure in the industry. hell, you weren't even in the industry!

from: mom's favorite child (🐣) why'd mom tell me to send my manager down? are you here? to: mom's favorite child (🐣) yeah from: mom's favorite child (🐣) why???

you chose not to answer that. 'did she really forget her lunch?'

after around five minutes (and after receiving some curious looks from staff members) the manager led you to a dance(?) practice room, nodding and opening the door for you.

"unnie!" you were immediately crushed by the tall girl. you think the cramp in your spine was fixed by her intense embrace.

she gave you an excited look. "why're you here?"

you held up the box, dangling it in front of her eyes. "you forgot your lunch."

she took it from you with a straight face, but then changed the topic without saying anything else. what the...

"meet my members!" hyein stepped aside, revealing four girls who looked almost as confused as you were.

but they were all very pretty, you noted. especially that girl on the right, with the bangs. and those pretty eyes. and ah...

'oh my fucking god.'

"y/n!?"

"h-hanni!?"

you stood there in shock. out of all the places you could meet again, it was at your cousin's workplace? and, it turned out that they even worked together?

you were pulled into the practice room, and now you were sitting on a metal folding chair, in an icebreaker circle that took you back to middle school. it all happened in a blur, one second you were staring at hanni and the other you were forced into a chair by hyein. everyone else looked slightly uncomfortable as well.

"this is y/n, my older cousin!" she introduced you to the other girls. then, she pointed to them one by one.

"this is haerin-unnie." the cat-eyed girl nodded at you.

"minji-unnie." she waved, offering you a tight lipped smile.

"dani... danielle-unnie." she also waved, though with much more energy and a wider smile. cute.

"and this is hanni-unnie, but i suppose you two are acquainted already."

you ignored how hyein's posture became stiffer and how she suddenly started talking in a formal tone, like what she did when she was starting to plot something.

nonetheless, you bowed in your seat and waved. "i'm lee y/n... incoming first year at seoul national university. i'm looking to major in painting."

there was a brief period of silence, and you awkwardly traced the bruise you got two days ago through the hole in your jeans.

danielle(?) started clapping, the other members (including hyein) following suit.

"can we see some of your works?" she excitedly asked. you, once again, found it hard to resist a pretty girl.

"yeah, for sure!" fishing your phone out of your pocket, you pulled up the album titled 'finished paintings' and chose a landscape painting of the blue mountains which you did on a short vacation to newcastle in march. you used the pictures your dad took on his professional camera as reference, and it ended up being one of your best projects in your portfolio.

you tilted your phone horizontally so they could see the full piece, chest swelling with pride when their faces lit up with wonder.

"it's beautiful," minji commented, her eyes trailing from your phone screen to you. you blushed at the sudden eye contact.

danielle loudly gasped, shaking hanni back and forth. "oh my gosh, it's the blue mountains!"

another aussie?

"yeah, went there during a trip to newcastle," you replied in english. the girl's eyes seemed to light up even more, if that was possible. her smile became so blinding that you felt you had to shield your eyes.

"newcastle!" she pointed to herself, "that's where i'm from!"

"really? it's so pretty there, especially by the beaches," you said. "i wish i could go back and paint the views."

your stomach growled. right... you hadn't eaten since way earlier in the morning. you scratched your neck in embarrassment when haerin and hyein started giggling.

"have you girls had lunch yet?"

at seeing their heads shake 'no', you stood up and stretched your arms back. "wanna go eat something? it's my treat," you suggested. "i think i saw a tonkatsu restaurant on the way here."

the cat eyed girl, haerin, made a sound akin to the squeak of a cat (ironically) and tugged on minji's sleeve. she whispered in the girl's ear, and minji turned to look at danielle and hanni for approval.

"fine with us," she affirmed, sending you a gummy smile. "i'll tell our manager."

hyein poked your shoulder. "what about my lunch?"

"uh... we can watch something tonight and you can eat it then, i guess. i won't tell your mom?"

"deal!"

[hybe -> new area unlocked: tonkatsu restaurant]

the seating arrangement went as follows: haerin, hyein, and danielle on one side of the booth, and minji, you, and hanni on the other side. you mentally braced yourself for kicks from hyein, but your heart also sped up at being next to hanni again.

the group made their orders, you prepared to empty your wallet, and were now engaging in conversation with danielle and hanni. next to you, hyein, minji, and haerin were having a separate conversation—something about sparklers and filming.

"so, danielle," you started, folding a napkin into an unlimited amount of halves. she interrupted you before you could continue, smiling, "you can just call me dani! i find being called my full name a bit... you know."

you nodded in understanding. "dani, so you're australian too? must be nice to have a fellow aussie in your group," you nudged the girl sitting on your right. she nudged you back, but her hand made its way to yours under the table. you tried your best not to freak out.

"yep! speaking of which," danielle pointed between you and the 'fellow aussie'. "how do you two know each other? there was that whole thing when we first saw you and everything."

by now, the other three girls have tuned into your conversation. it seemed that they too, were curious.

the vietnamese was the first to explain. "we met at the airport, after i visited my family. we bumped into each other like, three times before finding out we also sat next to each other on the same flight."

minji raised an eyebrow, "wait, this is the y/n you were talking about?"

hanni looked to the side and tucked her hand behind her ear. she was talking about you?

you gave her hand a squeeze, causing her to look down at your now-intertwined fingers. when did that happen?

across the table, hyein eyed you suspiciously.

thankfully, the food came and you enjoyed your lunch, which sufficiently tamed your prior hunger that led up to this situation. you recounted more of you and hanni's first meeting, but the more you talked the more it felt like you were introducing yourself as her girlfriend.

"wow, is that why you left me on read?"

you snorted. "no, i just wanted to annoy you."

hyein kicked you under the table. you made a mental note to check your foot for another bruise later.

"to be honest," you said to the group after you finished your last bite, directing everyone's attention to yourself. "i didn't think i'd end up spending the afternoon with soon-to-be idols."

next to you, minji laughed. it tickled your brain, the way her deep voice was so sooth and calming.

"i don't think anyone here expected to spend the afternoon dining with our youngest's relative."

you laughed along with her, dabbing at your mouth with a napkin. "but i mean, we'll probably be seeing each other often. i'd love to get to know all of you."

the girls made noises of agreement, either nodding or approving verbally, and soon everyone was done eating. you paid the bill (rest in peace, wallet) and when you came back from the counter, hanni, danielle, and haerin are gone.

"they went to use the restroom," minji informed. you made an 'ahh' expression and gave an 'ok' gesture, and made to sit down to wait for the three. hyein stared at you and minji.

"i think you're really cool, y/n."

you almost did a spit-take with your glass of water. that caught you way off guard. what are you supposed to that?

"...and i was just wondering, could i get your number?"

you blinked. minji blinked. and out of the corner of your eye, you could see that hyein also blinked.

but... who would turn down an offer from a(nother) pretty girl? not you.

so obviously you punched in your digits onto the girl's phone, saving yourself as 'y/n 🎨' and by the time you were done, the rest of the group had returned to the table.

when you and the girls arrived at the company, minji left with a wink toward your direction, danielle and hyein hugged you goodbye, and haerin waved at you. only hanni was left, but both of you were reluctant to go.

"i hung the sketches up in my dorm room."

your eyes slightly widened. "really? i'm glad you like them. it's embarrassing, but you're sort of turning into my muse."

you coughed as to hide your scorching blush. hanni giggled, her cheeks also tinted red.

danielle called for her from the entrance, and you both looked to the building.

"i should go."

"yeah... oh, here." you handed her a torn piece of napkin paper with your number written on it. "my number, 'cause my dumb ass forgot to give it to you earlier."

she pocketed it and sent you an eye smile, before waving and turning around to catch up with her group members.

score!

one week later and you and minji became quick friends. she was funny, very dry but very funny. and you were too shy to text hanni much despite your show of confidence when you gave her your number.

you also hung out with the oldest member a lot. just the other day, you went to the mall with her and got frozen yogurt, and since the day you met her you've been texting every night. though not as much as you did with minji, of course you hung out with the other girls too, like when you visited the company a second and third time. (coincidentally, it was because hyein had forgotten her lunch, again)

you actually just got back from visiting minji at the dorm. it was your first time there, and you mostly just stayed in her room after being given a tour. (you ignored the disappointment in your heart after finding out hanni had a schedule, and wasn't at home)

hyein already had some of her things moved to her dorm room, but she was allowed a few more days at home until she had to stay there long-term. but lately, you've been noticing her staring at you. it often happened when you were texting or hanging out with minji. you would just see the younger girl stand in the corner of the room, 'distracted' with her phone as soon as you turned to look at her.

you were resting on your bed when the door burst open. startled, you sat bolt upright and turned your attention to whoever rudely interrupted your peaceful hour of doom-scrolling.

"unnie, do you like minji-unnie?"

"what the fu-" you stopped yourself. auntie would scold you if you slipped up in front of her kid. "no! what!?"

"oh." she sat herself next to you on the bed. "but you talk to her all the time. it's like you don't even like hanni-unnie anymore!"

it took you a second to process the younger girl's words until you exploded into a blushing mess. "how- how did you know i like hanni?"

"it's way too obvious," she shrugged.

hyein left the room, leaving you confused, until she came back in with a rolling whiteboard. where did she even get that?

you watched as she wrote on the board with a pink marker. 'operation... confess... to...' wow. you didn't like where this was going. at all. why should you confess? shouldn't she be focused on debuting? you wouldn't want to be a distraction to her. and you're pretty sure she didn't like you like that.

hyein put a bullet point under the heading, the marker squeaking as the ink dried within a second.

you frowned. "i don't think i should confess, hyein. you can put the board away."

she looked disheartened for a moment, but shook it off and faced you. "i'm like, 95% sure she likes you back. she doesn't shut up about you when she's alone in her room. i don't think she knows that we can hear her talking to herself."

choosing to keep quiet, you laid back into bed and covered your face with a pillow. that was a matter to think about later, and it was hard to stop hyein once she'd started.

"let's see... hey, pay attention; this is for everyone's sake!" the pillow was snatched from your hands. you groaned and sat up. guess it wouldn't hurt to at least hear her out. "you should do something to catch her attention."

you scoffed. "like what?"

she finished drawing two stickfigures (you and hanni, presumably) holding hands with an obnoxious amount of hearts surrounding them, and rested her hand on her hip. "you could... mysteriously take her away after one of her schedules?"

"absolutely not! that's kidnapping."

she crossed the prompt off the list. "take her on a romantic tour around the city with a rented double decker bus?"

"i don't have money for that..."

"you don't have to pay for a driver, can't you drive?" hyein pouted.

you sighed. "what's the point of renting it for her then? also, hasn't she been here long enough to know the city? plus, i don't have a korean driver's license yet."

another prompt was crossed off the list, and you waited patiently as hyein thought of another idea.

"you know, the other day..." you blinked, and now she was in front of you. 'oh god.'

a wide grin spread on her face, and you paled. "i saw some window cleaners the other day. they looked like spiderman."

"hyein..."

"and like, that's so cool! you could do that. we could get a harness from that store down the street..."

"hyein, please."

"and a rope from there, too."

"but-"

"don't you want to catch her eye?"

it was tempting. it'd been so long (christmas) since you've done something fun (insane) and hyein knew just how to push your buttons.

...damn this kid.

from: hany/n supporters mom's favorite child (🐣) added you, haerin, and mj to the group. mom's favorite child (🐣) heyy 😍 you what is this 🙁 mj ^ haerin ^ mom's favorite child (🐣) planning for hany/n to succeed also dani unnie isnt here bc she cant keep a secret mj oh finally mom's favorite child (🐣) updates will be here 😈

over the next few days, you'd been spending more time at the newjeans dorm, discussing the "plan" in depth with minji, haerin, and hyein. whenever danielle and, you smiled, hanni, dropped by, you always just changed the topic and let them join the circle, leaving the discussion to be finished in the groupchat or the next day.

but hanni's schedules had slowed down, and she was at home more often. on the other hand, it was haerin and hyein's turn to be busy, leading to you and minji hanging out on your own.

it was clear that you and the taller girl had grown way closer since your first encounter, to the point that you could joke around with her with no repercussions or shame. this year's sketchbook was a gift from minji, and the first few pages were drawings of her as a show of courtesy from you.

minji was slowly becoming your best friend since moving to korea long-term. back in australia, you didn't have a best friend, just some people that would tolerate and get along with you. but you could really connect with the stupidly tall girl that reminded you of a bear.

naturally, neither you nor minji didn't think that hanni would pay any mind to your blooming friendship.

according to minji three days later, you were wrong.

"this is giving me deja vu," you grinned at hyein, who was currently fastening the straps of your climbing harness bought from the sports shop close to hyein's home.

she rolled her eyes, tapping your helmet. this time, there would (hopefully) be no injuries. or splinters... you hated splinters.

"i'm gonna go back to them, i'll let you know where we are so you can drop down with your," she gestured to the piece of cardstock which you decorated last night, "poster."

the ropes were checked for secureness for a seventh time, and you were assisted with being lowered down the side of the building before hyein descended the stairs and to the elevator which would take her to the second floor.

[||] hanni

"what's up with you and y/n?" hanni questioned minji. it's not like she was jealous, or anything. not of how minji got close to you faster than she did, and hanni was the one to spend a whole day with you, alone, with no interruptions before they even found out you were connected. not of how she could hear the two of you laughing away at night, sometimes even including hyein and haerin in your little hanging out sessions. not of how you flashed minji, not her, minji, your signature smile which made her heart go ten times faster, because she had gifted you with a new sketchbook to replace last year's.

okay, maybe she was jealous. just a little bit.

but it didn't help how you called her 'mj' so naturally, like you'd known her for years before. or how you always snuck off or changed the topic whenever hanni appeared, acting like you were talking about something else even though she knew you weren't.

"huh?" the taller girl stopped in front of the window at the end of one of the second floor corridors. hanni tutted, "it's like you're... you're dating! or something."

minji froze, mouth agape. that wasn't a good sign. but then she started laughing like a crazy woman, making hanni even more frustrated.

"we're not dating. i don't like anyone," she paused, a shit-eating grin slowly overtaking her face. hanni scowled. "what, were you jealous i'd steal away your c-r-u-s-h?"

she dodged hanni's punch to the shoulder, still laughing at the absurdity that was her friend's thoughts.

"but you guys are so close. and hang out all the time," hanni emphasized, making wild gestures in the air with her hands.

that would be a fair point. but to minji, letting her win would be the end of the world.

"that's because-"

"hey guys!" the sounds of three sets of footsteps became louder upon approaching the pair.

"hey, hyein. hey, haerin, danielle." minji greeted, turning to the window as if she were looking for something. haerin and hyein joined her from behind. 'what the fuck?'

"what are you guys doing?" danielle asked, trying to tiptoe to see over their shoulders. unfortunately, she couldn't get past the obstacles that were freakishly tall giants named lee hyein and kim minji.

sighing, she stepped back to face the vietnamese girl, with a pout. "oh yeah, what were you talking about? we watched you try to punch minji earlier."

"it wouldn't hurt to ask for a third opinion," she mused. "do you think there's something between y/n and minji?"

danielle's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "y/n and minji?"

"i mean... they do spend a lot of time together. but i don't think... she—minji i mean—likes y/n like that. actually, it also seems like y/n's got a different vibe to her when she's with minji, but it's not a romantic feeling-y one, you know?"

drats.

"there she is!" hyein shouted, pointing at something that hanni couldn't see from where she was.

haerin quietly dragged her by the hand to join them in looking at the thing hyein was pointing at and- was that you!?

hanging from a rope that did not look like it supported your weight, there you were, in all your glory, outside of the window holding a sign that hanni had to squint to read.

"what the heck," she pressed her hands into the glass. "why is she outside of the window? also, is that rope even secure? and," she was nudged by minji.

"read the sign, bro."

she grumbled but squinted more to make out the words on the paper. there were flowers painted onto it, with two stickfigures holding hands, and the letters written in bold...

"han, let me take U on a d8 <3" with two comically large exclamation marks following after. han? as in, her? hanni? hanni pham who you met two weeks ago? on a date? a date!

hanni was about to shout her answer until she realized you literally couldn't hear her, because there was a window separating you two, and the rope snapped.

the rope snapped! you just fell down the side of the building! what the hell!

next thing she knew she was running out the lobby and on her way to the hospital while the ambulance carried hyein and your unconscious body.

white walls. blinding lights. faint smell of disinfectant. it had been a while since the last time you landed in the hospital.

except you don't recall the absence of a cartoonish hygiene poster that was always visible immediately when you woke up. or the presence of another girl resting her head on the side of your bed topped with plain white sheets.

on the other side of the door, you could just barely hear two people conversing in korean.

that's right, you were in korea, not melbourne. and you'd fallen from the building after the rope holding you up had snapped.

you knew you were the definition of "fucked around and found out" but... holy shit, your body hurts like hell. looking down, you could see that your right leg was in a cast, and you were unable to move your upper body, feeling immense pain whenever you tried. to add on, there were many, many, bruises along your arms and from what you could see, your other, non-broken leg.

normally, your mother would barge in at this time, scolding you for doing something stupid again. but it wasn't "normally" today. a warm, wet sensation, a tear, rolled down your cheek. maybe it was the pain that finally triggered it, but it was the first time you cried since leaving your home for college.

"fuck," you murmured, lifting up your arm that wasn't occupied to wipe away the waterfall of tears that threatened to burst. in doing so, the girl holding onto your hand shifted. she scrunched her nose, wiping the sleep away from her eyes, and you could finally see her face. hanni. why was she here?

she stopped and stared at you for a moment before her eyes widened. "you're awake! you're- hold on, i'm- here's some water."

hanni helped you sit up, your upper body burning in pain, and you gulped the liquid down in seconds, gratefully handing the glass back to her.

"are you feeling okay?"

that was a good question. "i feel like shit."

she burst out in laughter, and you tried to as well, but ended up groaning in pain. damned body. you felt soothing rubs on your back from hanni, and you shot her an endearing smile. her actions made you feel all warm inside. like a cozy campfire on a cold, dark night.

"be careful," hanni chided, "you broke two of your ribs. and if you didn't know already, your leg too." that explained the extreme pain when you laughed.

you fell into a silence, getting lost in the girl's eyes before she coughed, blushing. "careful, can't have you falling before the first date."

breaking out into a dopey grin, you squeezed her hand. "i'm afraid i've already fallen."

"well then you better hurry up and get better so you can take me out on that date you promised, before you ended up here."

date? promised? the... the... what was it... you searched the depths of your sluggish mind, which was really hard considering you woke up five minutes ago.

sign. the... sign? oh, she saw it! the sign that you and hyein had stayed up making yesterday, to ask hanni out. it was a last minute thing, since you kept putting it off and forgot about it before last night.

a pair of lips pressed onto your cheek, but left as fast as they came. you snapped your head to hanni, touching the affected area with your palm.

without thinking, you surged forward and crashed your lips together, melting into a (not so) perfect kiss, but it sure felt perfect to you. hanni kissed back with even more fervor, hands tangled in your hair and leg moving in a slight crawl in an attempt to get closer to you without hurting you.

you pulled away, stupid smiles on both of your faces.

"you have no idea how long i've been wanting to do that," you said, sneaking in another peck on her lips.

"you have no idea how long i've been wanting to kiss you." she said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

an idea popped up in your head after spotting your sketchbook on the table next to your hospital bed. you'd been wanting to paint her properly since the first time you drew her on the plane. "han, let me paint you. please? after i get discharged, whenever that is."

she blushed, blinking at you without saying a word. then, she pulled you into a short, but sweet kiss, and pulled away to plant a small kiss on top of your intertwined hands. you recalled minji saying something about hanni's strong distaste for kisses, but her behavior at the moment was contradicting minji's words.

"you'll have much more time to paint me, wherever, whenever you want."

you giggled, giving a squeeze to her hand. "does this mean i get sneak peeks of songs?"

"no."

"aw..."

"...maybe a little. just a little bit, because i like you so much."

you pumped your fist, whispering a "yes!" before she captured your lips in another passionate kiss.

"i like you a lot, too. more than painting. wait..."

"y/n!"

you, lee y/n, were a girl who could not get a girlfriend no matter what you tried. but on that fateful day, the day you met hanni, you only had the stars and fate to thank for letting you meet the love of your life.

10 hours, in the sky, let hanni pham wiggle her way into your life. and you had to say, it was a change for the better.

a/n : i'm finally done... THIS was hell to write let me tell you omg it's been in my drafts since early january GOODBYEE but now i can focus on all my other stuff so....... chaewon next! LOL (and also lovergirl pt. 2 i didn't forget i swear) thank you so much for reading 10 hour flight, sorry it's so long it wasn't supposed to be 😭 ily guys

#hanni pham x reader #hanni x reader #newjeans x reader #newjeans #newjeans imagines #hanni pham #girl group imagines #girl group x reader #hanni pham newjeans #gxg

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tongue-like-a-razor · 1 year ago

Text

There Are Limits

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

Summary: Maverick's new female friend brings out your spiteful nature. And seeing you with a new man is harder on Maverick than he'd like to admit.

CW: age gap, student/instructor dynamic, swearing, drinking, and did someone say bring on the angst?? Because you know I can deliver..

WC: 4000+

This is Part 5 in the There Are Rules universe.

“Captain?”

Maverick looks up when you step into his office. He’s sitting on the edge of his desk and there’s a woman standing between his legs, so close, she might as well be in his lap. When you enter, she steps away half-heartedly, looking slightly annoyed that her conversation with Maverick has been cut short.

Maverick’s cheeky grin falters when he sees you, and he clears his throat as he hops off his desk.

“Lieutenant,” he says. “How can I help you?”

You stare at him in shock, not sure how to react. The last several weeks haven’t been easy; in fact, you and Maverick have barely spoken since your mutual decision to terminate your romantic relationship. But seeing him with another woman is a whole new level of difficult.

“Lieutenant?” he says, lifting his eyebrows worriedly. He doesn’t bother to introduce his companion, with whom he is obviously very familiar.

You swallow around the lump in your throat and exhale slowly. Maverick isn’t the only expert in self-regulation. It’s a skill that’s proven quite useful, if not invaluable, during your tenure in the navy. And, although it’s always come naturally to you, recent events have seen that you receive plenty of practice. “Sir,” you say promptly, saluting Maverick in an entirely professional manner, as if you’ve never even had his tongue down your throat. “It’s about next week’s squadron dinner,” you say.

It's true that you meant to speak about the dinner – about how you were planning on skipping it to avoid an ever vigilant Cyclone who's been watching both you and Maverick like a hawk. Moreover, the less you see of Maverick these days, the better.

But the scene before you has severely shifted the trajectory of your plans. And the next thing that comes out of your mouth is hideously unrehearsed. “I was wondering if we were allowed a plus one,” you blurt out, your eyes darting pointedly between Maverick and his female friend.

Maverick stares at you mutely, as though it’s taking him a minute to process your request. “You want to bring a date?” he then asks, his eyes widening and subsequently narrowing in a matter of milliseconds.

You feel like you might sweat right through your uniform with the way he’s staring you down, but you stand your ground defiantly. “If I may,” you respond unemotionally; the way you’d address any other superior.

Maverick nods slowly, glancing at the woman who’s currently rifling through some papers on his desk. You ignore how comfortable she seems in his office, like she’s been here plenty of times before. “I don’t see that being a problem,” he says. “Who’s the lucky…?” His voice trails off and he lets out a nervous laugh. “Should be fun,” he finishes, giving you a wide, artificial-looking grin.

You smile back at him. “I agree.”

…

“Boyfriend,” Maverick says, his eyebrows shooting upward for a moment before he checks himself and pulls at the collar of his jacket as if it’s suddenly an uncomfortable fit.

You try not to acknowledge his reaction and instead introduce your date to some of your squadron mates. You’re not sure why Sam has decided to put a label on your relationship at this exact moment, but you’re not going to argue semantics in front of the one person you wouldn’t mind buying into this spectacle.

“It’s new,” you hear Sam blurt out, presumably cowering under the scrutiny of Maverick’s gaze.

You make a point not to look Maverick in the eye because you’re still upset about walking in on him last week when he was clearly otherwise engaged. But when Sam walks ahead, busy conversing with the other aviators, you feel a finger brush gently over the back of your hand. You pull both hands behind your back and square your shoulders to face your instructor.

Maverick is watching you solemnly. “This is good,” he whispers, although the tilt of his eyebrows says otherwise.

You can’t express how much it hurts to hear him referring to this situation as good, and yet, you nod, grinning rigidly. “It is,” you say, pausing to give him an opportunity to come clean about his own blossoming relationship.

But Maverick does nothing of the sort. Maverick is as unreadable as ever.

You’re about to walk away when the woman you’d seen in Maverick’s office appears from behind him. She nudges him on the shoulder to get his attention and shoots him a brilliant smile.

Maverick gives her a polite nod before turning back to you. “Lieutenant,” he says. “I’d like to introduce you to an old friend of mine.”

The woman beams at you and holds out her hand. “I’m Charlie,” she says.

You shake her hand and return her smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Charlie,” you say. “Are you an instructor at Top Gun as well?”

She chuckles, throwing Maverick a flirty glance. “Not for a while,” she responds, looking back at you. “Not since this one made me rethink that particular career choice.”

Maverick drops his head with a laugh. “Sorry about that, by the way,” he says.

Charlie shakes her head. “Don’t be,” she replies. “It all worked out.”

Maverick nods, looking at her affectionately. “Charlie went on to bigger and better things. And by bigger, I mean she went on to design rockets.”

“Wow,” you say, both impressed and jealous of the woman who seems to hold a special place in Maverick’s heart.

“And look at how far you’ve come,” Charlie says to Maverick.

Maverick grimaces. “I’m right back where I started,” he remarks. “Full circle.”

“You’re right back where you’re meant to be,” she says earnestly. “And I’m proud of you.”

Maverick shifts his weight uncomfortably, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans. “We better grab a seat before Cyclone has an aneurysm,” he says.

You turn to see Cyclone watching the three of you with an irked expression from the table reserved for your group at the restaurant. He shakes his head ominously as you make your way toward the others. When the three of you arrive at the table, he mutters, “How gracious of you to join us.”

Maverick glances at him with a slight smirk but doesn’t say a word while Charlie lets out a small chuckle, taking her place beside Maverick at the table.

You lower yourself into the seat next to Sam, right across from Maverick and Charlie. Cyclone is sitting to Maverick’s right, aggressively perusing the menu.

“I hear the fish tacos are good here,” Maverick notes when Cyclone lays his menu down on the table in frustration.

Cyclone gives him a sour look. “Not a fish person,” he responds tartly.

You stifle a laugh, exchanging glances with Charlie, who is also snickering.

“There are non-fish tacos as well,” Maverick points out.

Cyclone nods grumpily. “Yes, I saw the entire section devoted to the various tacos they serve. I can read.”

Maverick bites the side of his lip to contain a grin. “Enchiladas,” he continues quietly, as if to himself. “Quesadillas, chiles rellenos…”

“I want a burger,” Cyclone declares, flipping through the menu anew.

Maverick shoots you an amused glance. “Let’s start with drinks,” he suggests, sliding a draft beer menu in front of his superior.

“Good idea.” Cyclone sighs theatrically, rolling his shoulders to loosen some tension.

“Hey, d’you want to share a couple of dishes?” Sam offers, tapping you on the arm to get your attention.

You glance over at him quickly, having almost forgotten he was there. “Sure.” You nod enthusiastically, even though it’s the last thing you would ever think to do.

Once all the drinks and food arrive, and you and Sam awkwardly try to allocate your respective shares of the dinner, Charlie pipes in. “How long have you two been together?” she asks, gesturing at you and Sam.

“It’s new,” Sam, the self-proclaimed boyfriend who has yet to work up the nerve to even kiss you, reiterates quickly while you chew on a quesadilla.

You wipe your mouth with a napkin before confirming, “Not long.”

Maverick’s eyes rest on you for a split second before he returns his attention to the ceviche in his bowl.

Meanwhile, Cyclone regards you with a dubious expression. “Where did you meet?” he asks gruffly.

“Through some friends,” Sam responds excitedly, as though it’s the most fascinating fact of the evening.

You take another bite of quesadilla and avoid looking directly at any of the three people sitting before you.

But Maverick cuts the silence short. “Is it serious?” he asks, and both you and Cyclone shoot him threatening glances. Charlie looks up from her plate, trying to interpret yours and Cyclone’s abrupt reactions.

Sam, meanwhile, is smiling blissfully to himself as he pokes at the contents of his fajita before rolling it up. “I’d say it has some potential of getting there,” he says.

You nearly choke on a pepper upon seeing Maverick’s expression transform from mild amusement to unequivocal displeasure. His jaw muscles contract as he forcefully stabs at his dinner with a fork.

Sam clears his throat nervously and speaks in a noticeably higher pitch, “Of course, I can’t predict the future.”

You roll your eyes and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “It’s none of his business, anyway,” you say.

To Maverick’s left, you see Charlie’s jaw drop slightly in her shock at your informal – bordering on impolite – addition to the conversation with your superior officer.

Cyclone chuckles quietly, finally appeased by your interaction with Maverick. “At last, something we can all agree on.”

Maverick smiles politely. “I was just making small talk,” he says, laying his fork down without finishing his meal.

Cyclone gives him a flat look and leans forward to address his friend. “Charlie, how long are you in town?”

While Charlie and Cyclone engage in conversation, Maverick catches your gaze inquisitively, as if he’s trying to figure you out. His eyes are so penetrating, you feel like he can see right through you. He must know that your relationship with Sam isn’t even close to being serious. He must know that you’re probably going to break it off that very evening. He must know you only brought him because you were hurt and you wanted to hurt him back. Because Maverick has reconnected with someone of significance and is involved in something meaningful.

You tear your gaze away from him irritably. You’re about done letting Maverick stir up your emotions without so much as saying a word. You’re about done caring for a man who’s done nothing but cause you pain.

You rise from your seat and excuse yourself, heading for the bathroom near the back of the restaurant. No sooner do you break through the door, than you collapse onto the nearest sink and break down. You don’t even care that your mascara is leaving streaks down your cheeks, or that the tears are clouding your vision. You don’t even care that your hands are gripping the basin so tightly that your fingers are cramping.

You glance up at your reflection in the mirror; pathetic. How did you let yourself fall this far? This hard? This fast? You run the tap and dab some cool water on your skin, patting at the trails of makeup that your crying spell has left behind.

You take a deep breath, staring at your glistening face with a scowl, preparing yourself for the remainder of the evening. But just as you make your way for the door, it opens, and Maverick enters.

You jerk back in surprise, despite his history of showing up in places he isn’t supposed to be.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You panic. He knows. He knows that you ran away to cry. And this makes you furious. “I’m fine,” you respond curtly. “You shouldn’t be in here,” you add, gesturing to the door behind him.

He pulls his eyebrows together like he isn’t quite convinced. “You’re not okay,” he says.

You grit your teeth in anger. He can’t just ignore you for weeks and then try to comfort you like he gives a shit about your feelings. “Why are you here, Maverick?”

Maverick presses his lips into a thin line and breathes out steadily. “I was worried about you.”

You scoff resentfully. “Don’t be.”

Maverick sighs and lowers his head. “I can’t help it.”

You attempt to keep your voice even despite all the shaking your body is doing. “You better go, Captain,” you say spitefully. “Before Cyclone finds us. Or Charlie.”

He watches you soberly. “You asked me to stay,” he reminds you.

You stare wistfully into his eyes. He’s right, of course. You’re the reason he’s still here. Your relationship with him has been strained but civil since the incident on the carrier. There has been a mutual effort to avoid unnecessary encounters, and an unspoken understanding that, while romance is out of the question, it will take some time for both of you to move on completely. Obviously, you did not expect him to move on by moving in on someone new. Or old, in the case of Charlie, because the two of them go way back, apparently.

You struggle to remember why you’d wanted this – wanted him to stay despite knowing that nothing would ever come of it. In the moment, you were desperate not to lose him. But watching him carry on as though nothing ever happened between the two of you is absolute torture. You’d rather not witness just how little you actually meant to him.

You shrug. “Error in judgement, I guess,” you respond coldly, echoing his words from the night Cyclone had caught the two of you in the parking lot of the Hard Deck.

Maverick nods. “Been there,” he says pensively before turning to walk out. Just before he does, however, he glances back at you and adds, “I’ll wait out here until you’re ready.”

“Don’t,” you say.

Maverick meets your gaze with a weary look. “I’m not leaving.”

“What’s Cyclone going to think when the two of us come back together from the bathroom?”

Maverick shrugs. “I have no control over what Cyclone thinks.”

“What’s Charlie going to think?”

Maverick pauses in the doorway. “What’s Sam going to think?”

You roll your eyes. “He won’t even notice.”

Maverick watches you quietly for a moment, then says. “I doubt that very much.”

You lick your lips as a fresh round of tears threatens to obscure your eyesight. The fact that Sam isn’t here to check on you but Maverick is has not escaped you. “Go, please,” you whisper.

Maverick wavers slightly on the spot and, after a brief interval, holds his hand out to you. You glance down at it hesitantly as your stomach flips violently at the though of touching him again. Clearly, you’re angry with him, but the part of you that loves him always wins.

Slowly, you step forward and place your hand in his. He pulls you in the moment you make contact, wrapping his arms around you as he releases the door to the bathroom. He lets his face drop, pressing his mouth to the top of your head.

After a prolonged – mostly silent – embrace, you detach yourself from his arms and give him a nod. “I’m ready,” you say.

Maverick nods back without a word and then opens the door for you.

…

It’s past midnight when you hear the knocking, followed by some irregular footsteps and a string of quiet – but still audible – curse words. After a moment of hesitation, you unlock the door.

“Captain?”

Maverick is standing in the corridor before you, although calling it ‘standing’ might be a bit of a stretch. He’s not exactly stable on his feet.

You glance up and down the hallway to make sure that no one has seen him. “What are you doing here?”

Maverick is watching you with a squared jaw, as though he means to keep the purpose of his visit to himself. He breathes his frustration out through his nose before veering right into the doorframe.

“Sir!” you exclaim, grabbing a hold of his arm like you might have any chance of keeping him upright were he to topple over.

“Sir?” he murmurs, and you could smell the liquor on his breath. He catches your gaze now that you’re closer and, in another moment, his eyes begin to slip down your face before they finally close. “I told you,” he says, his mouth twitching as he grimaces. He pushes past you into the room.

You quickly close the door behind him, hoping nobody heard the commotion. Praying he’ll have the sense to keep his voice down.

But Maverick, it seems, isn’t nearly as concerned as you are about disturbing your neighbors. He rounds on you with a resentful expression and shakes his head. “I knew this would happen.”

You blink at him in confusion. “What?” you say. “What happened?”

“You happened,” Maverick says defeatedly. He takes a step toward you, his eyes flitting between yours as if he’s checking to see if you can relate.

But it’s a weekday and you had just drifted off to sleep when he’d started drumming on your door, so you’re not exactly following. You furrow your eyebrows. “I happened to what?” you ask.

Maverick watches you miserably, taking a step back now, as though he can’t decide which is worse: being closer or farther away from the source of all his troubles. “You two make a fine pair,” he manages to say, but not without a break in his voice.

You purse your lips, looking away from him. You’re not going to comfort a man who’s standing in his own way. After all, it was his decision not to be with you. Besides, Maverick brought his own date to the dinner, so you aren’t feeling overly sympathetic.

Maverick tears his gaze away from you and smacks a hand over his face. “What am I doing here, Lieutenant?”

It’s a fair question, to be sure; one you wouldn’t mind knowing the answer to, yourself. But you’re more immediately concerned about the consequences of Maverick’s unsanctioned visit to your quarters than the reasons behind it. “Maverick, it’s the middle of the night,” you say, shocked at how firm you sound despite the tremor travelling through you.

Maverick’s eyebrows converge and he shifts his jaw as his eyes well up with tears. “Yeah,” he whispers, nodding slowly.

“And you’re drunk,” you add when he takes a step toward you again.

“I am,” he admits, still in a whisper.

You ignore the stutter of your heart as he nears. “You can’t be here,” you warn.

He watches you wretchedly, giving his head a subtle shake. “I can’t,” he agrees.

You can hardly breathe when he finally stops before you, his soft eyes trailing down your face. His hand is coasting up the side of your neck before you even know what’s happening, and by the time his fingertips are hovering at the nape of your neck, you’re so lost in his gaze, it’s a miracle you’re still standing. Unsurprisingly, you aren’t in the state of mind to respond.

“I lied,” he says with a slight rasp despite the effort he’s exerting to steady his voice. “I think he’s terrible for you.”

You blink at him, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Sam,” he says. “He’s not the one.”

You pride yourself on your patience and understanding, even in trying circumstances; you’re not an unreasonable person by any means. But even you have limits. And, tonight, Maverick is testing every last one. “Are you the one?”

Maverick stares at you, his eyes swimming. Slowly, he shakes his head. “No, I’m not.”

You breathe out forcefully, astonished at his audacity. There is only so much you can let this man get away with. “Then, respectfully, shut the fuck up,” you hiss, pushing past him aggressively. You whip around sharply and point at the door. “Get out.”

…

The following afternoon in the briefing room, Maverick reviews the morning's flight footage with barely a look in your direction. He doesn’t even comment on the impulsive maneuver you pulled that left your partner confused and resulted in an uncoordinated hustle to regain momentum, costing your team valuable seconds that could have ended in tragedy were it a real dogfight.

Once the briefing is finished and the room begins to clear out, Maverick approaches your desk. “Can I have a minute, Lieutenant?” he asks in a subdued sort of tone.

You glance up at him grudgingly but don’t respond until the last of the pilots have left the room. “Is it about the Cobra Climb?” you ask monotonously.

“What?” He quirks his head in confusion before briefly closing his eyes and shaking his head. “No,” he says, and then adds, more emphatically, “No.” He lets out a heavy sigh and lifts a leg over the chair in front of your desk, sitting on it backwards to face you. “I want to apologize to you.”

You groan. “Not again.”

Maverick steals a glance at the door, ensuring that the two of you are still alone, and then he lays a hand over yours on the desk. “I’m sorry about last night. Showing up at your place – less than sober.” Maverick lowers his gaze with a disappointed frown. “I – I had no right. I have no right,” he says, looking back up at you. His eyes flit between yours imploringly, burdened with all the guilt he carries.

“Stop,” you say assertively, pulling your hand out from under his grasp. You can’t listen to another word. This entire relationship has been a series of failures in self-control, each one a ‘mistake’ in Maverick’s eyes for which he subsequently has taken full responsibility. You rise from your seat and gather your things mutely.

“Y/N,” he says hoarsely, standing up after you.

You shake your head. “I don’t need another apology, sir,” you say bitterly. “I just need some space.”

Maverick nods. “Of course,” he says. “And I’ve been denying you that – and I apologize –”

“I said, stop!” you exclaim, shooting him a threatening look.

Maverick trails you as you make your way to the door – the exact opposite of your request. You rush out of the briefing room, and he follows, not far behind. Thankfully, there’s no one in the hallway because he’s behaving irrationally, to say the least. He reaches for your arm and pulls you around to face him.

You gulp, staggering the moment you meet his gaze, the aching in his eyes undermining your determination.

“Let me finish,” he pleads in a whisper.

You exhale sharply. “Finish, then.”

Maverick slowly lets his hand fall away from your arm now that you’re no longer a flight risk and, this alone, hurts, because you want him to hold you forever. Even when you’re fuming, even when you’re yelling, even when you hate him.

“Seeing you,” he says slowly, evenly, as though he’s trying to compose himself as he’s talking. He takes a breath and tries again. “With another man –”

“Come on.” You scoff, even though your heart is already buzzing at the thrill of making Maverick jealous. “You can’t expect me to not date –”

“I don’t expect that,” he says. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

You think about the way you felt seeing him with Charlie and you’re instantly sorry for causing him that much pain, regardless of whether it was intentional or not.

“I was angry,” he says quietly. “At myself, mostly…” he trails off, moving his head to the side and lowering his gaze. “But also at you. And I blamed you for the way you make me feel.” He pulls his bottom lip under his teeth and grimaces. “But that’s not your fault,” he whispers shakily. “That’s on me.”

You bite into your lip to keep it steady. You wish you could look away because the devastation on his face is undoing you, but you aren’t strong enough. You take a step back and take a shuddering breath. “Please don’t look at me like that,” you say, your voice unsteady. You can barely get a grasp on his words because you’re too absorbed in his eyes.

Maverick’s eyebrows lift inward, as if your request has him concerned – or confused. “Like what?”

You roll your eyes – as if he doesn’t know like what. “Like that!” you respond as he takes a step toward you in alarm. “Just stop!” You sigh in frustration, unable to articulate your thoughts because his eyes are still commanding all of your attention.

“Where am I supposed to look?” he asks, agitated.

“It’s the way you’re looking at me,” you explain angrily.

“Are you listening to what I’m saying?” he asks urgently. “I need you to hear me.”

You shut your eyes and shake your head. “Enough, Maverick!” you exclaim.

Maverick stills immediately, watching you uneasily.

“You’ve been tiptoeing around me, treating me like I’m injured or in need of assistance –”

“I’m not –”

“You are and I’m tired of it. Why didn’t you call me out on the Cobra Climb?”

Maverick stares at you like you’re unhinged. “You want me to reprimand you?”

You let out a heavy sigh. “If you’re going to be my instructor – just my instructor – then instruct me. It was an idiot move and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“You were distracted –”

“You’re making excuses for me! Why?”

“Don’t question my teaching methods,” Maverick says in a low voice.

You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re afraid of confrontation so you’ve been avoiding me. You didn’t even think to give me a heads up about Charlie!”

Maverick narrows his eyes. “What about Charlie?”

“Whatever,” you grumble. “Just don’t stand here and proclaim that my bringing a date to the squadron dinner somehow threw you for a loop.”

Maverick studies you silently so you boldly meet his gaze. His jaw is set but there’s a tenderness in his eyes that nearly draws you in.

“Stop coddling me,” you say firmly.

You watch his Adam’s apple rise then fall as he gulps down whatever retort he decides to keep to himself. His jaw muscles contract once more as his eyes settle over your face.

You tear your gaze away. “And quit looking at me like you…” You sigh, unsure how to describe the inimitable combination of exasperation and affection you see in his eyes.

“Like what?” he asks, his voice rising in volume. You can tell that he’s becoming increasingly defensive as your blows continue.

You’re annoyed that he’s annoyed and you blurt the words out before you can stop yourself. “Like you’re in love with me or –”

“I CAN’T LOOK AT YOU ANY OTHER WAY!” he roars.

You freeze. Stunned by the volume of his voice. Stunned by the emphatic delivery. Stunned at his words.

He turns away in a huff, placing one hand on his hip while the other is balled up into a fist at his mouth.

“This was your idea,” you say quietly as he slowly turns back to look at you. You aren’t the one who refuses to even try, and he needs to acknowledge that.

“I know,” he whispers, his eyes brimming with tears.

You clench your teeth to keep your mouth from trembling. “Then stop,” you implore.

He shakes his head, pulling his lips into a rigid line. “I don’t know how.”

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thefanficmonster · 2 months ago

Text

The Tortured Journalists Department

Declan O'Hara x Reader (Female) [Rivals TV]

Warnings: Age Gap (Reader is 21), Swearing, Emotional Infidelity, SPOILERS for Rivals S1

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Summary: The characteristically prominent electricity that pits journalists against one another also has a magnetic sort of pull that brings them closer. As Declan and Y/N find out the hard way

"Alright, listen to me." Y/N had rushed into the O'Hara residence like spring wind, bringing warmth to a house Declan has felt cold in ever since the departure of his wife.

She headed straight into the kitchen where she dropped several files and folders, splaying them out on the table. It was evident from her pace alone that she'd come with an agenda but that didn't bother Declan. If there was one thing that could stray his thoughts from Maud it was work. And Venturer still required a lot of it.

"It'd be quite impossible to not listen to you, my dear. Especially with such an impressionable entrance." Declan chuckles, taking a drag of his cigarettes as he comes to stand across the table from the girl.

"Good, because I didn't spend an entire sleepless night drafting all this for you to not pay me any mind." She grumbles as she flicks open the folders, flipping past the formality pages to the main course of the idea she's about to pitch.

Y/N is one of the Corinium refugees that jumped ship the second Declan resigned. She was a paid intern and the face of Corinium's 'After Dark' segment focusing on rather scandalous topics and entertainment targeting the young adult demographic. However, with the continuous undermining she felt from practically everyone, she had long been planning to break the chain binding her to the company. The only thing - or rather, person - that kept changing her mind was...well, I think it's pretty darn obvious when you take note of when she finally decided to go through with the decision and leave.

Declan pulls out a chair and takes a seat, leaning forward with his elbows on the table to skim all the files she's laid out for him "I'm all ears, darling."

"You better be." Y/N says with a clap of her hands as she takes a deep breath, "So, I've been thinking, we should set Venturer free from the shadows of Corinium. Because, right now, especially with you as the face of the company, we seem like a bitter revenge attempt. Just an endeavor to bite back at a company that wronged you. Of course, that is not my personal opinion, but-"

"I think it is."

"Hush!" She scolds him as he interrupts her, "I'm far from done."

Declan laughs, smoke curling around him as he lifts his hands up in surrender, motioning for her to continue.

"Thank you." She narrows her eyes, "So, I'll cut to the chase, seeing as how your attention span is one of a fish. My idea is to make Venturer unique in more ways than one. Truly make it our own. And....take down two birds with one stone." She says with a knowing look.

Declan quirks an eyebrow at her, tilting his head to the side, "And what's this second bird you speak of."

Y/N points a manicured nail down to an underlined name he recognizes, "The Scorpion, of course. They have a massive monopoly over London's printed journalism and they don't even know how to use it properly. They have a wide reach and use it to spread gossip and rumors. I can count on all ten fingers the amount of nude pictures I've seen in a supposedly serious paper just this past year. It is abhorrent. That being said, what do you say?"

Declan places a hand on his chin, giving the documents she's put so much thought in a more thorough look. The idea had never even crossed his mind - the Venturer merging two separate branches of journalism, setting in motion a domination attempt of the entire field.

The more he ponders it, the better it sounds, but it doesn't exactly show on his face which makes Y/N feel nervous for the very first time since she started working on the pitch. She hadn't for a second doubted that it would be a good idea but right now she feels rather unsure as she takes in Declan's thoughtful furrowed brow.

"You don't have to give me an answer right away. I know it's a hefty endeavor and you have to consult with Rupert and Freddie and Cameron. I probably should've gathered all of you to properly pitch the idea but I wanted you to be the first to hear it in case it was an utter embarrassment. Again, think it over, and get back to it whenever you-"

"It's genius."

Her rambling comes to an abrupt halt, leaving her slack-jawed and wide-eyed. For a moment, she refuses to allow herself the joy of success, opting to make sure she hadn't misheard him first. "Come again?"

"It's genius." He doubles down on his original statement, "You're a genius, love. Which is why you'll be the leading force behind Venturer Daily." He smirks when he sees her eyes grow impossibly wider, "Like the name?"

The airy laugh that leaves her parted lips carries all the disbelief, worry and uncertainty from her body, giving way to relief childlike excitement that displays itself with a wide grin, "Venturer Daily.....yes, y-yeah, it has a nice ring to it." Her mind is already a whirlwind of potential topics and stories she could report on. How she'd have complete control of all that'd get printed and released into the world for all of London society to read. And beyond - nation wide even.

But then logic and rational thinking kicks in, curbing her thrill, "Wait, don't we have to consult everyone else before making such decisions?"

Declan shakes his head, "With a passionate pitch like yours they'll immediately climb onboard even if they are initially against it. Which I honestly doubt, there are very few downsides for them to pick at."

"Alright, fair. What about my writing? What if I don't have what it takes to transfer the charm I have in front of the camera to a printed page?" She asks, more so wondering aloud rather than actually directing the question to Declan.

Still, he points a scolding finger at her, "Never let me hear you doubt yourself like that again."

The sternness in his voice causes something to stir inside her, like ripples in a still lake that progressively become waves when she sees the intensity in his eyes. Because of course that's how her body reacts to strict praise and attention from a man twice her age that also happens to be her boss.

Her next worry is voiced a little quietly, almost sheepishly, "I don't even have a typewriter of my own."

He doesn't give an instant reply to her raised concern. Instead, he motions for her to wait a moment before leaving the kitchen, heading up the stairs in the foyer.

Y/N is left standing alone in the kitchen with a flushed face and a speeding heart as she chews on her bottom lip in anticipation. Her fingers drum nervously on the edge of the table as she takes a deep breath, willing her heart to slow down and take it easy. All in the hopes of not being let down in the end.

Let down she most certainly isn't when Declan comes back down the stairs, typewriter in hand, and places it on the table in front of her.

"Problem solved. Anything else bothering ya? If there is something, let me know so I can take care of it for ya, alright? You just focus on getting me a newspaper draft within the next two weeks. Sounds good?" He asks, as he stands beside her, hands on hips, spine straight and a satisfied lopsided smirk on his face.

The earlier mentioned waves turn into a full on tsunami.

Y/N runs a gentle hand over the polished black typewriter, her fingers lingering on the golden accents adorning it. "You would give this to me? Are you sure?" She asks, mouth agape in disbelief as he nods "T-thank you....I promise to take good care of it. I'll have it returned in pristine condition as soon as I purchase my own."

Declan immediately shakes his head, clicking his tongue, "Oh no, no, no, darling. It's yours. Yours to keep, that is."

Y/N's disbelief is palpable as she quirks an eyebrow at him, "How could you ever bring yourself to part with something so beautiful." She gathers some of the dust layer that coats the keys, "And something you've had for a long while, no less."

Declan doesn't show it, but his heart clenches as he sees how gentle and almost loving Y/N is to this object that he too feels such a connection to. He'd originally bought it for Maud's birthday a few years back only to earn himself a displeased reaction from his wife who demanded something - in her words - actually valuable as a birthday gift. Seeing someone be as appreciative and admiring of this typewriter as he'd been the moment he saw it returns that same excitement he'd felt when he was preparing to gift it to Maud. This time however, the excitement isn't deflated by disappointment. If anything, it's amplified by seeing it be mirrored in Y/N's eyes.

Eyes that hold such adoration.

Adoration he witnesses morph into something else when her eyes meet his for a split second before she throws her arms around his neck, embracing him tightly. The action stuns him, mostly because it's coming from someone who's not typically openly affectionate but he welcomes it none the less, returning the gesture with a flutter in his heartbeat.

He's unsure of how to describe what he's feeling but a small voice in his brain is condemning him for it. For how good it feels to have someone's arms wrapped around him with undivided affection he hasn't been treated to by his own wife in years.

Speaking of his wife, he catches glimpse of her smiling face framed on the coffee table in the living room. He should feel guilt but he doesn't. Especially not when he remembers that he hasn't been on the receiving end of that smile in a long, long while. The notion causes his arms to tighten around Y/N, his face nestled into the crook of her neck, each inhale filling his nose with the sweet scent of her perfume lingering on her skin and in her hair.

"Thank you..." She whispers as her arms slowly loosen around him. He doesn't even have time to feel disappointed to no longer feel her warmth around him when her lips press against his cheek, sending sparks of electricity throughout his entire body, setting every nerve ending aflame.

Before he's even had the chance to gather his bearings, Y/N has already collected the files and folders she'd brought, leaving them in a neat pile on the table. She picks up the typewriter in her arms, the weight of it evident in the way she's carrying it like an infant - or rather that is a display of the care she feels for the gift.

It's obvious the kiss was an improvised action on her part. There's a solid chance she herself was surprised by it considering how flustered she is now as she's doing everything in her power to leave the O'Hara residence.

"I'll have a draft delivered to you in a couple days." She says hastily, one foot practically already out the door, "I promise I won't let you down."

Declan's arm seems to have a mind of its own as it shoots out and gently grabs hers, stopping her in her frazzled haste to run away. His thumb swipes over the soft cotton of her sweater, allowing her to feel the warmth of his touch on her skin through the fabric. His eyes are warm and inviting, exuding comfort and reassurance she's never been offered by anyone before.

"You could never let me down, darling."

His words might as well have been a physical force the way they knock the breath clear from her lungs.

In another universe, she might be a better woman. The kind that wouldn't kiss her still-technically-married, twice her age boss. But in this universe she has no such restraint.

And clearly neither does he, seeing as how he meets her halfway, their bodies symbolically separated by the typewriter she's cradling - a disappointing gift to one, but a beautiful memento to another.

* * * * *

A couple days later, Declan finds a draft of a newspaper wedged into the side of his front door, waiting for him, a bow neatly tied around it. He reads through it while sipping on his morning coffee, smirking at the bold title - Daily Venturer, a slight variation of the name they had agreed upon.

Y/N's passion is warming the pages in his hand, eliciting genuine emotion and reaction with each paragraph she has written, the word alive on the crisp paper.

He's about to close it when the farewell block of text at the bottom of the last page catches his attention. It's not printed, instead handwritten in beautiful cursive

⋰ May you find my writing even half as beautiful as your own soul, dear reader

May you have enlighten yourself with my words the way you've enlighten my life with your presence

May your heart be warm as the coffee I'm sure you're drinking as you're reading

May all be well always ⋱

Yours only,

~Y/N

#rivals #declan o'hara #declan o'hara x reader #declan o'hara x you #declan o'hara fanfiction #declan o'hara imagine #declan o'hara smut #declan o'hara x y/n #rupert campbell black #taggie o'hara #rupert x taggie

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short-honey-badger · 1 year ago

Text

Forgetful Valentine's

The long awaited fic! I do hope you all enjoy what I've whipped up!

Everyone have an amazing Valentine's Day! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairings!: Sir Crocodile x AFAB Reader.

Quick summary : Crocodile is hard at work trying to get the Cross Guild up and running and accidentally forgets that it's Valentine's Day.

4.3k words

Masterlist

Buggy Town was lively as usual. Almost Everyone here belonged to the cowardly clown’s crew, but a few select members had elected to stay loyal to Crocodile. The ex-warlord strolled through the tall tents toward the middle of town where real construction had begun. He had a hand in each building, deciding what and where needed to be built first. Mihawk was uninterested in this side of running the guild, and Buggy was far too incompetent to use a hammer, much less direct a building crew made out of pirates.

Crocodile made his way to the largest building, a hotel slash bar of sorts that housed him and the other leaders of the Cross Guild. It'd been a couple of days since the devil fruit user had been able to rest his head, and he was thrilled at the thought of getting to see you, his wife. The two of you have been together since his relocation to Alabasta, been married for around eight years now. Impel Down and Marineford had been life-changing for both of you, but things were beginning to look up with the formation of the Cross Guild.

Only the people Crocodile thought worthy enough to see him with his walls down knew that he was a bit of a romantic at heart. You were obviously one of them, and he couldn't wait to get back to their personal room, curl his huge frame around you, and go to sleep.

However, Crocodile couldn't help but think that he was forgetting something important- he just couldn't figure out what. He sighs heavily and pushes open the door to the hotel, and his cigar would have fallen out of his mouth if he had not clenched his teeth.

The entire lobby has been decorated in PINK. There are paper hearts and streamers everywhere, and someone has even made cupcakes with cutesy designs. There is a massive banner that spans across the bar, where Buggy and his crew sit at the bar, drinking and having a swell time, and Crocodile feels his heart drop. It's Valentine's Day, and he forgot.

Crocodile has nothing ready, nothing prepared for you. He's been far too busy dealing with the new shipment of crops and lumber coming in. The ex-warlord swears under his breath and spins on his heel, mind working quickly to try and find a solution.

Any other year, Crocodile has gone all out for you. Back in Alabasta, he'd wake you with flowers and a sweet breakfast, keeping the day open just for the two of you. Then he would take you out for an extravagant date, only to bring you back to the casino to feed you expensive fruits and worship you from head to toe. Before the night was over, he would run the two of you a bath, making sure it suited you perfectly before gently cleaning his love of the day's events.

All that changed after Straw Hat came and wreaked all of his plans, but right now, none of that mattered. Crocodile needed to find something - anything to give you. He's already wasted the majority of the day and cursed himself for not realizing what today was again. He could only hope that you would be forgiving.

Crocodile flies out of the hotel, dropping into sand and scattering out through Buggy Town. He comes back together when he finds Mihawk, knowing that the other man would have some fancy, expensive wine lying around somewhere.

The swordsman cocks a brow at him, looking thoroughly unimpressed at Crocodile's sudden entrance. Mihawk takes in the older man's rather erratic appearance.

“Can I help you?”

Crocodile smooths his hair back, settling back into nonchalance. He doesn't want the haunty man's help, but he doesn't have many options at the moment.

“I need a favor, a bottle of wine - strawberry, your most expensive brand.”

Mihawk shifts his weight, crossing his arms and leaning back against the crates behind him. It's not every day that Crocodile of all people comes asking for a favor.

“Why?”

The taller man flicks the ash from his cigar, eyes flickering to the darkening sky. He inhales deeply, lungs filling with smoke and then leaking up into the air. Fuck. This was embarrassing.

“I forgot it was Valentine's Day. I can't show up empty-handed,” Crocodile grumbles and huffs in annoyance when he sees the amused smirk on Mihawk’s face.

“You? Why celebrate such an unnecessary holiday?” Hawkeye inquires, but his eyes shine in mischief. Mihawk knows exactly the reason, but he can't help but want to pick on the other man.

Patience running thin, Crocodile glares down at the pompous bird who looks too smug for his own good.

“Because I don't take the one I love for granted,” he snarls down at Mihawk and revels in the look of anger that flashes across his face before it disappears. They glare at one another before the swordsman ultimately sighs and rolls his eyes as he is being asked to do the most unfortunate thing in the world.

“Fine,” Mihawk drawls and turns on to march back to the hotel, “Only because your wife deserves to have a nice Valentine's.”

Wine now in hand, Crocodile stalks to the back and into the kitchens. He demands the cooks whip up a platter of fine fruits and cheeses, simple things that he knows that you like. As he steps back into the lobby, he catches sight of the rack of cupcakes that sit far too close to Buggy for his liking. He sighs as he steps over to the figurehead of the Cross Guild, clearing his throat and smirking around his cigar at the way the clown shrieks and breaks into pieces.

Crocodile snatches up a cupcake, transferring the bottle of wine to a helpful pile of sand that he summons without a thought, “Who made these?”

Buggy looks about to die in his spot when he raises his hand, cheeks coloring bright red in embarrassment as he admits to baking the cupcakes. Crocodile scoffs at the goofball of a man who somehow became an emperor of the sea.

“Of course you did,” he sneers before turning on his heel and loping upstairs, leaving behind a befuddled and terrified Buggy.

The gator is uncharacteristically nervous when he arrives in front of his door. He can hear soft music playing from within, and his scar pulls tight around his nose when a wince crosses his face. The song is slow and crooning, one that he recognizes as one of the few that you play when you are feeling upset with him. Shit.

I’ve lost all ambition

For worldly acclaim

I just want to be the one you love

Crocodile steps through the door, brows pulling up at the sight of soft lighting and delicate decorations that are just a bit tacky. He cracks a tiny grin, and stubs out his cigar in the nearest ashtray, though the effort you’ve put in here just makes the ex-warlord feel guilty. On he goes, passed the living room, and out to the small balcony where he can still hear the slow tune of the song.

And with your admission

That you feel the same

I’ll have reached the goal I’m dreaming of

You sit in one of the chairs that have been set outside, blanket wrapped tight around your body, and turn when you hear the door slide open. Crocodile catches your eyes, and his shoulders slump in relief when you reward him with a soft smile full of love. You stand, dropping your blanket, and come to his side, simply happy that your husband has made it home before the end of the day.

Crocodile drapes himself over you, setting the wine bottle and cupcake away and then curling his arm around you tightly. He lifts you, tucking his hooked arm under your legs, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in so that you can seal your lips to his, sighing in relief at feeling the man you loved close again. You know that he is busy, and you try not to let how much his absence hurts, but you hadn’t thought that Crocodile would have forgotten Valentine's Day.

You rest your brow against his own when the ex-warlord parts from you, letting out a quiet giggle when he presses a smattering of kisses to your cheeks and nose, though when he stops, you can see the regret still shimmering in his purple eyes.

“Forgive me, doll,” Crocodile rumbles against your lips, “Getting the guild up and running has taken too much of my attention away from you.”

You smile at him, a soft quirk of your lips that Crocodile had fallen in love with over time. He once thought you were mocking him with that easy expression, but now it is one that he cherishes above all else.

“There is nothing you need to apologize for, baby,” you coo softly and smooth a hand along his jaw, feeling the days-old stubble there. You trace the scar that runs along his nose and cheekbones, “I know that you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

Crocodile huffs, leaning into the hold you have on him, “That’s no excuse. You deserve better than this. If I’d remembered, we wouldn’t be spending this evening in the hotel surrounded by fools.”

“It's not very nice to speak about your co-workers like that,” you tease your husband, and the gator just rolls his eyes skyward.

“As if either of them contribute to the guild,” Crocodile grouches and shrugs out of his heavy overcoat and settles into the chair, situating you into a more comfortable position in his lap. Below the chair, sand shifts and slides back inside and to the cellarette. He retrieves two wine glasses and his hand reforms with the stems tucked between his fingers.

“Impressive as always,” you quip and take the glasses, resting them beside the wine and cupcake that you are just now noticing. Your smile turns into a delighted grin, and you snatch up the bottle, reading the label, “You got my favorite!”

Crocodile gives you a smug smirk, feeling proud of himself for doing at least something right tonight, “Thank Mihawk later. He’s the one who had it lying around.”

He disintegrates the cork of the dark bottle and pours them both a generous amount of the pale pink wine, handing you your glass first and then taking up his own, “The cooks are making you that little snack tray you like so much. Always eating like a little mouse.”

You snort at the old nickname, “Not my fault that fruit, cheese, and bread go so well together.”

Crocodile keeps a steady hand on your hip when you lean back over and pick up the cupcake, examining the bright pink icing and chocolate cake, “Who made this?”

The sigh Crocodile disperses is earth-shattering, and you raise a brow at his dramatics, only to smirk when he hisses, “Buggy.”

“See, your business partners are good for something, right?” You point out and take an obvious sip of your wine, then examine the cupcake, wondering which angle to go in at to create the least mess.

Crocodile snatches the cupcake from your hand, setting it back on the table. He didn’t trust you not to get crumbs everywhere, “Enough, you’ve made your point. Be grateful, hmm?”

You scoff at his audacity to think that you would ever be ungrateful for anything the devil fruit user got for you. You quickly decide to show your husband just how grateful you can be by being obnoxious, of course.

You drape yourself over Crocodile’s chest with a dramatic sigh, shifting to cradle his face in both of your hands to press your lips to his in a lip-smacking kiss, “Thank you so much for the wine and snacks to come my sweet, dear husband! What would I ever do without you?”

“Be wineless and snackless,” Crocodile rumbles and snickers at your dramatic display. Seas does he love his wife, so opposite to him, but with a unique outlook on life that he has always admired.

You laugh, catching him in another kiss before settling back down. Crocodile pours you another glass, and you sip it with a suspicious look, “Are you trying to get me drunk, Sir Crocodile?”

The grin that you receive is dastardly, and you are tugged impossibly closer, almost spilling your drink if not for the grip you had on the delicate stim. You shiver when that dangerous hook finds the edge of your dress, and send Crocodile a soft glare when you hear it begin to rip. Cool air meets your thighs when he rips it further, and he leans in, lips brushing against yours as he speaks.

“If I recall, you quite like it when I take advantage of you, Doll,” He rumbles, and his flesh hand smooths up your thigh, thumb dipping in between the juncture of your legs and stroking the soft skin there. Crocodile longs to feel your plush thighs wrapped around his waist or his head. The ex-warlord wasn’t picky. He presses his cheek to his wife’s, breathing you in and leaving a lingering kiss to your ear, “Or am I remembering incorrectly?”

A breathy laugh escapes you, and you turn your face, lips finding his stubbled cheek, “No, you remember correctly.”

You think about teasing him about the fact that he had forgotten what today was but cast the thought away when you lean back and catch sight of the dark circles under his eyes. Your husband looks tired, and your tipsy, lust-filled mind is swiftly reminded that this is the first time that Crocodile has been back to the hotel in days.

The gator raises a brow when he catches the change in your expression, and he sighs as he is subjugated to your concerned fretting until a knock on the door grabs his attention. Crocodile sets you on your feet, hands off his glass to you, and suggests you gather the wine and join him inside.

By the time you make it inside, Crocodile is shutting the door and lopes over to the sitting area where you’ve sat your bounty on the center table. The tray of snacks joins the wine and sweet treat, and Crocodile presses a quick kiss to the top of your head, “Get ready for me while I change, Dear.”

Crocodile smirks at the way you flush at the husk of his voice, and satisfaction curls hot in his chest at still being able to make you blush like a virgin even after all these years.

“Yes, Sir,” You breathe, and his cock twitches in interest. Crocodile leaves before he can say fuck it and go straight to the main course.

With your husband gone, you take in a deep breath and set to “getting ready” as he ordered you to do, which surmounted to waiting for him to get back so that he could manhandle you how he wanted. You help yourself to another glass and pick at the charcuterie board - eating the cupcake too while you’re at it - you’ve already eaten, but you were never one to turn away food.

The sight of your husband dressed down in black sleep pants with a cigar hanging from between his teeth - he’s even taken off his golden hook for the night - makes you smile, affection, and love for the dangerous man who used to infuriate you at every turn. Now, only you had the honor of seeing the suna suna user like this, all soft and intimate, and all for you, his wife.

Crocodile sighs as he settles on the floor where you’ve strewn out pillows and thick blankets, making a cozy pallet for the two of you. He rests his back on the couch, extending his hookless arm along the cushions and taking up his filled glass. He watches you pick over to the record player and switch songs, smirking when the husky voice of the female artist fills the room. You settle back in his lap, and he wraps his left arm securely around your waist.

Your fingers find his scared wrist and trace gentle patterns there. You rest against him and quietly ask him about how the last couple of days have been. You listen to your husband grouch about the incompetent fools he works with a fond grin, occasionally rising to pick at the snack board and feed your overworked ex-warlord just to get him to pause in his rants. You chime in here and there and offer one last time if he wants your help, but Crocodile denies you like every other time.

“I won’t have you out there around those heathens when I can’t be there to protect you. Mr. 3 and Daz are the only two I trust around here,” Crocodile grumbles and pushes away the cracker and cheese combination you offer him. He smirks as he watches you shrug and eat it for yourself.

“Once I get a more stable network, then we can talk about getting you back out there.”

You huff, but agree for now, not willing to argue with the stubborn man right now. You blink when your world suddenly spins, and the next thing you know, your husband is looming over you, scar scrunching up as he grins meanly down at you.

“Enough about work, Doll. I’ve held myself back for your sake, but I’m done being patient,” Crocodile rumbles and stabilizes himself with his left elbow, trailing his flesh hand up your knee and pushing your dress up and around your hips. Saliva pools in his mouth at the sight of smooth thighs, your panties hugging your mound and leaving little to the imagination. He wants to mark you up like his personal canvas and paint you with bites and hickies so that everyone would know who you belong to.

He leans back just enough to tug your dress up and over your head, tossing it behind him the moment it leaves your head. Crocodile hums, pleased at the sight of your bare breasts, though he would have liked to have seen you nice and dolled up for him, “What have I told you about wearing the lingerie I bought you?”

You blush and shake your head, “It just gets in the way.”

“Ku ha-hah, If you would give it a chance, then maybe you would change your mind,” Crocodile grumbles at you and then leans down to mouth at your collar bone, nipping at the delicate skin there. His hand splays across your side, and he slides it down your hip to hook into your underwear. He tugs them down, growing impatient when his cock throbs in his pants.

Any thoughts of arguing about lingerie are whipped from your mind when those sharp teeth of his find one of your nipples and bites. You curse, one hand gripping his shoulder and the other sliding into his hair, nails biting sharply into his olive skin. The tip of his tongue curls around your nipple, sucking gently to ease the sharp pain.

With your underwear out of the way, Crocodile hooks his fingers around your thigh and tugs your legs open, hooking your left one over his hip. The tips of his fingers dig into your inner thigh, and you moan when he nips your nub before releasing the abused flesh and lean your head back to expose your throat when he noses forward. He sucks dark marks into your skin, leaving behind a painting that only your husband would have the pleasure of viewing.

Crocodile drags his hand down your thigh, growling low in his throat when you dig your nails into his scalp again. The tips of his fingers find your cunt, and he slides his middle finger through your folds, smirking against your skin when he feels how wet you are for him. He leans up and sucks his finger into his mouth for half a second, soaking it thoroughly before sliding it back down and finding your entrance with practiced ease.

“Fuck,” you hiss, and your hips jerk at the sudden stretch. Crocodile was a large man, bigger than the average at the least, and that meant everything on him matched his height. His fingers, usually decorated with rings, were long and thick, and the gator knew how to use them to bring you over the edge until you were begging for his cock.

“Too much?” Crocodile grunts out from where he has leaned back to lave his tongue along your throat, sharp teeth nipping, “But you can take it even if it was, couldn’t you, sweetheart?”

You jerk your head in a nod, deliriously with wanton lust, “Of course, Sir. Whatever you wanted from me.”

He laughs against your skin, and then he is moving up to shove his tongue past your lips, groaning at the mixed taste of you and sweet strawberry wine. You suck on the thick muscle that fills your mouth, jaw aching at the way Crocodile doesn't let up. Your thighs shake when he adds another finger, the pace brutal and impatient.

“C-croc, please,” you plead when he pulls away, lips red and smeared with spit, “You're not the only one who's been waiting.”

Crocodile gives you a smirk, not needing to be told twice. You unwrap your arms from his neck, and he sits back on his knees, thumb hooking into the elastic of his pants, pulling them down, and you watch his impressive length spring free. Your mouth fills with saliva, and if you didn't want your husband inside you so badly, you would demand he sit back so you could suck him off.

Instead, you reach out and wrap your hand around the thick base, smirking when you feel him pulse in your hand. You squeeze gently, eyes landing on the thick precum that leaks from his tip. Crocodile rumbles above you, sounding like the animal that he is named after, and the sound sends shocks straight to your core.

Done with your playing, you sit back and tighten your legs around his waist, causing the big man to rock forward.

“Fuck me, Crocodile. Make it up to me for almost missing Valentine's.”

Crocodile's grin is nasty and mean, sharp teeth pearly and on display, “As my wife demands.”

With those words, Crocodile bats your hand away from his cock and takes himself in hand. He guides himself forward, hissing at how tight of a fit you are, swallowing him down until his hips pressed flush against your own. Crocodile lingers for half a second before he is pulling out, dragging along your walls before slamming back in.

You shout, head falling back to the pillows below as Crocodile sets a back breaking pace. You hold on to his shoulders to dear life, his hand tight around your hip to keep you still as he fucks into your cunt. He shifts his knees under you, arm moving to wrap around your waist, keeping you close as he moves to kneel on the ground. This position pushes him impossibly deeper, and you lean forward to rest your sweaty brow against his chest.

Crocodile bounces you on his cock, bodily moving you up and down, and you feel that hot coil of pleasure snap inside of you when your clit grinds wonderfully against his pelvis. He doesn't stop, growling as you clench tight around him and snapping his hips up, dragging his length against your sweet spot.

“You should see yourself,” Crocodile snarls above you, and bends, pressing his cheek to yours, “Stuffed so full with my cock. You like it when I'm rough, don't you baby?”

You nod eagerly, teeth clenched tightly when your husband tightens his grip in your waist and holds you down while he grinds up. You come quickly after that, hands tight around his shoulders and nails digging into Crocodile’s back.

His pace becomes erratic, and Crocodile can feel himself starting to get close. His wife feels too good, and he doesn't fight it when that heat snaps, pulling you down and shoving in to fill you up to the brim. You watch him, taking in the blissed out way, his brows furrowed and his sharp teeth clench. He paints you from the inside, and the two of you look down at where you are connected to see a mix of slick and semean leak out and stain your thighs.

The two of you stay like that until Crocodile grows soft and he slips out of your fucked out pussy with a quiet groan. You stay draped over him, unwilling to move, and feeling exhausted. The gator huffs at you, though he can't pick when Crocodile lets out a jaw cracking yawn. He stands with a heavy sigh, unbothered by the mess left behind as he lopes to the bathroom.

Crocodile switches arms, tucking his handless arm under your ass to keep you help up while he flicks on the tub. It's too hot for him when he steps into the huge tub, but he knows that you wouldn't tolerate anything cooler than molten lava. He adjusts you so that you are mostly submerged, big frame relaxing against the edge of the tub.

He smooths your hair away from your face, a soft smile playing on his lips when he catches your eyes. He leans in and presses his lips to your brow, “I love you, Doll.”

You grin, eyes falling shut, and you press yourself as close as you can to your husband, lips grazing his chest, “I love you too, Crocodile.”

The ex-warlord hums low, a smirk appearing, but you can still see the slight discontent in his eyes. Today isn't how he would have liked it to go, and you both know it. He tucks you close, head leaning back.

“I won't forget next year.”

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #fluff #valentine's day #valentines day #sir crocodile #op crocodile #crocodile one piece #crocodile #crocodile x you #crocodile x y/n #crocodile x reader #cross guild #masterlist

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captainkirkk · 4 months ago

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

NOTE: I had originally planned on adding my Natsume Yuujinchou fic recs to this one too, but I've been reading way too many recently so I'll be creating a post just for that fandom in a couple of weeks. Keep your eye out for that.

The Nine Worlds series (Hands of the Emperor)

two days five hours by ariex09

Jullanar didn’t realize anything was wrong until the newspaper boy yelped in panic, until she was turning back to see the paper Fitzroy was holding on fire, a conflagration held in one hand, his eyes liquid gold with magic and his voice perfectly empty when he said, “No. That can’t be right. There’s been a mistake.”

In which an adventure in progress is thoroughly derailed by news of the presumed death of the Viceroy of Zunidh.

Plausible Deniability and Pineapple by toffeecape

In which the Last Emperor of Astandalas and Lord of Zunidh is an unbonded sentinel (as if he didn't have enough problems) and Cliopher sayo Mdang rejects the entire classist and culturally imperialistic sentinel/guide paradigm out of hand and offers his Radiancy… almost the exact same thing, honestly, but done their way.

Shadowhunters

To serve and protect by ToTheStarsWriting

From the moment there’d been shadowhunters, there had been the guardians. Those willing to go above and beyond their people, their Institutes. Ones willing to bind themselves through magic and rune with a warlock. To pledge their lives to one another, and to the fight against the hordes of hell.

These days the Guardians weren’t nearly so common. It was rare for a warlock to be able to find a shadowhunter who would willingly do the oath with them. Even if some thought it a great honor in the beginning. that had clearly changed. Now, the only time Alec saw any hint of the peace that was said to once exist between the denizens of the shadow world was at events like these. One week, every five years, where all parties gathered together in a ritual as old as their race.

Alec had been interested, once, until he realized what it would mean. Giving up his life, his Institute, his family? A Guardian had to be prepared to let all of that go. Their life became the whim of their bonded and the War. Where their bonded went, they went. And with a lot of the new rules against Downworlders, that meant that there would be so many places a shadowhunter gave up ever seeing again. He couldn’t abandon his people like that.

AFTG

i swear that i'm a good kid by perchancetosleep

“Oh, and Jean?” The guidance counselor's voice has him pausing in the doorframe. “Kevin Day has restarted at this school while you were suspended. Both your guardian and his father have requested that you stay away from him. There will be consequences if you do not heed these wishes.”

Jean can’t keep the shock off of his face as he stalks out of the office. The last time he had seen Kevin, he was depositing him on Wymack’s doorstep with a poorly bandaged hand, a note he had stolen from Tetsuji’s office, and enough benzos in him to stop him from fighting Jean the whole way there.

For about a month after that, Jean held onto hope that Kevin would come back for him, or that he would tell someone about Evermore and they would all get out.

That hope has long since died.

#this one is shorter b/c i've mostly been reading ny fic lmao #my posts #weekly fic round up #shadowhunters recs #aftg recs #tsc recs #hote recs #nine worlds recs #fic recs

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hnslchw · 3 months ago

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not what we wanted - LN4 x Reader

Summary: You haven’t felt this kind of ache in years. As memories of your relationship with Lando resurface, the lines between love and loss blur, leaving you grasping at the emotions you thought you’d buried. With every lyric you write, you’re pulled deeper into the bittersweet realization of what was—and what will never be.

Based on "the apartment we won't share by NIKI"

Themes/Warnings: angst (ofc), commitment issues??, no comfort, singer!reader, daddy and mommy issues (lando prolly doesn't have daddy issues but let's pretend pls) (Please let me know if I missed anything)

Word count: 1.1k

Author's note: Hello!! im so proud of this one i really hope everyone likes it. Please let me know what you think! Also if you want to suggest new drivers, characters, or new genres Ill try to make one for them, even though i only write once every two months HAHAH please feel free to ask <3 Anyways hope you enjoy!

The candle flickered on the desk as you stared at the half-filled notebook in front of you. The melody played faintly in the background, guiding the flow of your pen. Words scratched their way onto the paper, raw and unfiltered, each line peeling back the layers of a love that once felt indestructible. A love that belonged to you and Lando.

Two years ago, you had walked away from the man who, for a time, had been your entire world. The memories came rushing in as you tried to put them into lyrics, their weight settling in your chest.

The apartment we won't share.

I wonder what sad wife lives there.

Have the windows deciphered her stares?

Do the bricks in the walls know to hide the affairs?

You remembered the day you went apartment viewing with Lando. It was a sunlit afternoon, and the air buzzed with excitement as the two of you dreamed about building a life together.

“This one’s perfect,” Lando had said, his voice echoing in the spacious open floor plan.

You weren’t alone at the viewing. A couple—a woman with tired eyes and her distracted husband—wandered the space, too. The wife’s stares lingered on the window, and the unspoken tension between them was palpable.

When you and Lando got home that evening, he joked, “I swear, if we ever get like that, just put me out of my misery.”

You laughed, nudging his side. “Deal. Though you’re too busy to turn into a grumpy husband anyway.”

The irony cut deeper now. You hadn’t seen it then, but that couple was a reflection of what you and Lando were becoming—two people holding on to a love they couldn’t maintain.

The dog we won’t have is now one I would not choose.

A flash of warmth filled your chest as you thought about the day you met Charles’ dachshund, Leo.

“Now this is a dog,” Lando had said, crouching down to let Leo excitedly sniff his hand. “When we get one, it’s gotta be just like him—small, but full of personality.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You mean stubborn and impossible to train?”

“Exactly,” Lando replied, grinning as Leo flopped onto his back for belly rubs.

The idea of a dog—a small, tangible piece of the future you were trying to build—felt so easy back then. But now, even the thought of it was bittersweet.

The daughter we won’t raise still waits for you.

You wiped at your eyes, forcing yourself to stay present. The memory of late-night talks with Lando replayed like a broken record.

“I want a little girl someday,” he’d confessed once, his voice soft with vulnerability. “She’d be a daddy’s girl. Spoiled rotten.”

You had smiled, nodding along. You wanted to want the same thing, but deep down, you weren’t sure if you ever saw yourself as a mother. You had never told him that, though. Maybe you should have.

The girl I won’t be is the one that’s yours.

I hope you shortly find what you long for.

The breakup came rushing back, a scene you had replayed a thousand times in your head. It was late at night, and the exhaustion of trying to keep the relationship alive had worn you both thin.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you had said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. “I know.”

You wanted to be angry, to yell at him for not fighting harder. But deep down, you both knew the truth—you had drifted too far apart. You cupped his cheek, a sad smile on your lips. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Lando.”

The filthy joke that won’t

Burrow in the corner of your

Smirking lips, I mourn it to this day.

A laugh escaped your lips as you thought about the gala. You could still see the way Lando leaned in, whispering a dirty joke in your ear that was so wildly inappropriate for the setting.

Your cheeks had burned, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scold him. Not when he looked at you with that stupid grin, his dimples on full display. You had never loved anyone more in that moment.

The story we won’t tell

Is my greatest fantasy.

The passion I won’t feel again

Isn’t lost on me.

You paused, letting the pen hover over the page. The weight of regret settled heavily on your shoulders. You had loved him deeply, even as the relationship unraveled. And now, the thought of never feeling that kind of love again terrified you.

The son you never wanted

Is the wound your father left.

And the mother I won’t be is

Probably for the best.

Your mind drifted back to one of your many late-night talks. Lando had opened up about his childhood, his compilcated relationship with his father. “I don’t think I’d know how to be a dad to a son,” he had admitted.

You hadn’t realized it then, but that fear had mirrored your own doubts about being a mother. Maybe that was why you had hesitated to dream too big about a family with him.

Your demons I won’t meet

Now someone else’s word to keep.

I’m sure she’s beautiful and sweet.

The song was nearly done when your phone buzzed on the desk. You picked it up, and the screen illuminated with a headline: Lando Norris and Fiancée Announce Engagement.

Your breath hitched, but you couldn’t look away. The woman in the photo was stunning, her smile radiant as she stood beside him. He looked happy—happier than you had seen him in years.

You closed the notebook, staring at the final line you had written:

Not what I wanted, but what we need.

The song was finished, but the story wasn’t just about you and Lando anymore. It was about letting go, about making peace with the love you had lost. You set the notebook aside, exhaling deeply.

Some endings weren’t tragic. They were just necessary.

#lando angst #lando norris angst #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #ln4

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copajay · 10 months ago

Text

knight in shining armor

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

masterlist

can you tell I’m in love with writing period pieces (even if they’re not that historically accurate…) btw, italics is y/n's thoughts and bold is euneok's thoughts.

summary: y/n’s a college student majoring in history on a school trip to a historical castle in england. somehow she and her academic rival, eunseok, get stuck in a secret chamber in the castle which ends up transporting them to the 1300s! will the pair overcome their differences and manage to get back to the 21st century? (not proofread)

date: 04/09/24

scenario themes: time travel, enemies to lovers, period piece

idol: song eunseok or eunseok of riize

concept: fluff, fantasy

warnings: swearing

word count: 12k (i got a bit carried away)

song eunseok is an exchange student from korea who makes your college life a living hell.

you love studying history, especially the entirety of medieval england. you’re even writing your senior thesis on english nobility during the medieval period.

unfortunately for you, eunseok excels at history as well.

since you have such a huge passion for history, you’ve always naturally excelled at it. you tend to be a bit of a try-hard when it comes to school and that bit increases tenfold when it’s anything history-related.

it’s immature to compete so openly with a peer at this age. to many, ‘rivals’ are a high school concept. and yet, something about the way eunseok knows every detail about chinese foot-binding practices and confidently leads discussions about the cold war makes your eye twitch.

history is your thing.

you know you sound crazy, but it’s not like it was completely one-sided. eunseok hates not being the smartest in the room.

he worked his ass off to learn english, leave korea, and get a scholarship at your university. there’s no way he was going to settle for mediocrity.

and of course he noticed how intensely you glared at him when he answered a question you were dying to answer.

just like you noticed how annoyed he was when you would mention getting a slightly higher grade than him on a paper.

you were both in the same major which meant you had a lot of overlapping courses, and unfortunately for your professors and classmates, you almost always ended up in the same class.

for the most part you tried to ignore eunseok outside of class. sure he was the bane of your existence for the hour and a half lecture on roman architecture, but outside that he was none of your concern.

eunseok on the other hand found himself thinking of you quite often. it’s not like he always disliked you. in fact, he found your passion for history admirable, and he thought your dedication to your coursework was cute.

but when you began treating him coldly and sending him glares from across the room, he was quick to react in the same way.

eunseok isn’t stupid, he knows why you dislike him, and that if he was less of an overachiever, you’d maybe warm up to him. but he’s not going to jeopardize his grades and hard work to please some girl… no matter how much he’d like to get to know said girl.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, but there isn’t a soul on this earth that could waterboard that information out of you.

to put it simply, you can’t stand each other.

but right now that doesn’t matter. nothing matters. because you’re going on a trip set up by the history department to riize castle in england.

it might just be another old site to everyone else, but it's your absolute favorite castle. you know the entire history of the building, you've studied the floor plans an embarrassing amount of times, and have spent most of your childhood yearning to go there, and that dream is finally coming true.

and not even eunseok could ruin it for you... or so you thought.

your flight was set for 3 am, and while the other students were groggily arriving at the airport one by one, annoyed at both the timing and the expenses they'd have to cover for the trip, you were elated.

that is until you received your boarding passes and found out you would be spending the entirety of the 10-hour flight from california to england seated next to the one person you abhor.

maybe he's less insufferable outside of class, you thought to yourself.

after your group boarded you sat down next to him and the two of you continued to sit in awkward silence until takeoff. but once the plane began moving, you noticed eunseok starting to shuffle around and breathe heavier.

"are you alright?" you asked, glancing at his trembling hands gripping onto the armrest. "yes." he responded immediately.

"don't you go back to korea every school break, how are you scared of flying-" before you could finish your sentence, eunseok grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly.

you were about to interject but you realized the plane was beginning to ascend so he must've been frightened.

his hand was warm and soft, despite his trembling, the foreign feeling of his hand on yours was comfortable.

as soon as the plane was fully in the air, he let go of your hand as if nothing happened and picked out a book from his carry-on.

"um.. are you okay?" you questioned, confused at his sudden behavior change. "i get a bit nervous during takeoff and landings, i'm usually fine during the rest of the flight so you don't have to worry about me holding your hand for the next ten hours." he deadpanned.

"a bit? you were shaking like a leaf." you chortled. he rolled his eyes in response, going back to his book.

it was then that you realized you stupidly hadn't brought any entertainment with you for the trip, and your flight didn't have wi-fi either.

you decided the only thing you could do to remain sane in this situation is fall asleep, it was 3 in the morning after all.

leaning your head as far back as the stiff seats would allow, you closed your eyes and drifted off.

approximately five hours later, you woke up with a crick in your neck and an odd numbness on the side of your mouth. opening your eyes slowly, you were greeted with the site of eunseok's shirt directly beneath you with a large wet spot.

holy shit.

you fell asleep on eunseok's shoulder and drooled all over his shirt. if he didn't say anything this far he's probably going to the next 5 hours you're on this flight.

you haven't moved your head yet, scared that if you indicate you're awake, he's going to hold this against you until the end of time.

panicking, you accidentally jolted your stiff neck up, causing your chin to collide directly with eunseok's.

fuck. well there goes my cover.

"ow!" you both exclaimed in unison. "was drooling over me not enough? you had to break my jaw too?" he grumbled, rubbing his chin.

"you could've moved my head!" you defended, flustered. straightening yourself up, you wiped the side of your mouth awkwardly.

instead of responding, he grabbed a napkin from his bag and handed it to you.

"thank you." you said, taken aback.

why is he being so nice?

"i'm... sorry for ruining your shirt," you mumbled. "it's no big deal." he shrugged.

was this the same eunseok that commented "worst thing I've ever read." on your peer-graded essay?

maybe you could mend things with him during this trip. after all, he did seem pretty excited when the announcement was made.

"so... have you ever been to england before?" you began, initiating small-talk.

"can we just sit in silence?" he replied coldly.

nevermind, he's still just as much of an asshole as ever.

shit. why did I say that? eunseok thought to himself.

the truth is, you made him nervous. whether it was your icy stare or your intimidatingly vast knowledge on history, he could never let his guard down around you.

the rest of the flight was spent with the two of you refusing to so much as face each other until landing.

as the plane was about to descend, you noticed eunseok starting to take deep breaths. part of you wanted to extend a hand, but the other part of you wanted to throw him off the plane.

deciding to be the bigger person, you asked "are you alright?"

"I'm not a child." he croaked.

"I didn't say you were." you sassed.

"then stop talking to me like I am one." he began, growing more irritated.

the two of you began to go back and forth, and before you knew it you had landed. eunseok managed to forgot all about his fear because of how unbelievably petty the two of you were.

"will you guys shut up!?" a passenger behind you shouted, causing the both of you to stop arguing.

annoyed, you got out of your seat as quickly as you could and made a beeline for the baggage claim, waiting for your bags.

how do you keep getting forced into these kinds of situations with him? were you some kind of monster in your past life? was he your karma?

once you and the rest of your group received your luggage, you headed to the hotel. due to the time zone difference, it was already 9 pm in london so your group supervisors told everyone to get some sleep so you could head to the castle in the morning.

whether it was because of the nap you took on the plane, or simply how excited you were, you couldn't sleep at all.

staring at the clock reading 1 a.m. in your hotel room, you decided to try catching a glimpse of the castle before everyone else woke up at 7. it wasn't your brightest idea, but it's not like you had anything else to do.

you managed to get past your sleeping roommates, throwing on a jacket and slipping out the door. coincidentally, eunseok couldn't sleep either, and he decided to go for a walk around the hotel at the same moment you decided to leave.

spotting your figure leaving the hotel and heading off towards the street, he couldn't help but follow you.

was this extremely stalker-ish? yes. but what if she got hurt or kidnapped? we're in a different country after all. not like I care if she gets hurt or kidnapped... but if she did it would ruin our trip! so I have no choice but to follow her eunseok reasoned.

it didn't take long for him to figure out where you were going. the hotel is extremely close to the castle, after all. once you reached, you stared at the castle from afar, marveling at it.

you waited for this moment your whole life, and it was even more beautiful in person. there's no way you could turn back now. you have to see it closer.

carefully maneuvering past the gates, you managed to miraculously sneak in, and there didn't seem to be any security guards present.

what the hell is she doing? this is illegal!

what the hell am I doing? this is illegal!

you thought about turning back, but your curiosity was eating you up inside. you had to go see what the interior of the castle looked like.

thanks to your insanely intensive study of the building, you managed to find a secret opening that not many people knew of and you quickly slipped inside, hoping nobody would notice.

however, someone--that someone being eunseok--definitely did notice. and he mentally cursed himself for following you this far, wondering why he couldn't bring himself to turn back.

slipping through the opening, he entered a completely dark hallway, unsure of where you were.

you had dreamed of walking these corridors your whole life, and even without any light you were able to manuever around the halls.

unfortunately, eunseok couldn't say the same, and when he started walking, it didn't take long for him to bump into a stand of knight armor.

the loud crashing was enough to trigger an alarm system and turn on emergency lights, which exposed both eunseok and you to one another.

"what the hell are you doing here?" you shrieked "what the hell are YOU doing here?" he retorted.

you knew it wasn't long until authorities would arrive, so you grabbed eunseok and began running further into the castle.

"what are you doing? we need to leave!" he yelled.

"if we leave, they'll just catch us on our way out. we need to hide somewhere they won't look."

dragging him by the arm, you rushed into the old servant chambers, diving into the closet. well... what you thought was the closet.

what it actually was was a secret set of stairs that the two of you fell down, leading to a small room that you've never seen before.

impossible. i've watched every virtual tour, studied every reconstruction plan, read every primary source document... and i've never heard of this room.

"great. now we're stuck in a dark, cramped, dusty room in the middle of a castle that's going to be searched any second now and it's all your fault-" eunseok ranted, stopping midway when he saw you staring bewildered at the room.

"what's wrong with you?" he poked your shoulder.

"i... didn't know this room existed." you whispered.

"it's an old castle, I'm sure there's plenty of secret rooms everywhere... you think this is where the servants used to smash?"

"shhh" you urged him, hearing distant footsteps.

"what are we gonna do?" he sighed.

"let's just lay low until they leave. I doubt they'll look for us here. and don't touch ANYTHING. this room might be undiscovered and contain hundreds of year's worth of preserved artifacts-"

you were interrupted by eunseok toppling over a candle.

"EUNSEOK!" you whisper-shouted. "I'm trying to get some light in here." he defended.

fishing in his pocket, he pulled out a lighter before picking the candle off the floor and lighting it. once the room was illuminated, you could see your surroundings much better.

the room was stacked with cabinets and shelves containing miscellaneous items, it must've been used for storage. it seemed to have some personal items that belonged to servants.

you heard the footsteps start to get closer, and a voice appeared right outside the closet doors. looking to eunseok, you began panicking.

"blow the candle out! now!" you whispered.

eunseok blew out the candle and right as he did, the door creaked open.

shit.

"I know my rights!" eunseok yelled at the foreign figure coming closer.

"what are you talking about?" a woman's voice echoed throughout the room.

a middle-aged woman appeared with a candle in hand, dressed in a long cloth dress, similar to the ones maids would wear centuries ago.

"are you some kind of role-play tour guide? I didn't even know they did those tours this late into the night." he asked, confused.

"what? why is he speaking like that? and why are you two alone in here? and what happened to your clothes?" the woman interrogated.

the both of you had messed up your clothes running through the castle and falling down the stairs. your shirt was ripped up and dusty and his jacket was covered in cobwebs.

"oh, I see. the two of you are following eleanor and harold's example and fooling around in here! how many times must I tell you kids not to fornicate in the storage closet! go back upstairs and fulfill your duties." she reprimanded the two of you.

"told you they fucked in here." eunseok whispered to you.

you shoved him in the arm before responding "ma'am I appreciate your dedication to your job, but can you just tell us if you're going to turn us into the cops or not?"

"what are the... cops?" she exaggerated. you fought the urge to roll your eyes. you might be obsessed with history, but at least you can accept the fact that you live in the present.

"let's just leave." you turned to eunseok. "and get arrested? absolutely not." he crossed his arms.

"who is getting arrested?" the woman gasped. "you know damn well who, lady." he scoffed.

"lady?! I'm simply a chambermaid! have you hit your head?" she exclaimed.

"you know what, you're right. I'd rather get arrested than deal with this crap any longer." he sighed as the two of you began making your way up the stairs.

when you reached the top, you noticed the decor had changed drastically and the windows were letting in sunlight. wasn't it just 1 in the morning?

men and women dressed in modest, cloth clothing were running in and out of the halls and rooms.

"y/n... what's going on?" eunseok tugged at your dirty shirt. "it must be some kind of role-play experience? I'm not sure... how long were we in there?"

"you two must change out of your soiled garments!" the elder woman said, handing you a long dress and eunseok a matching set.

"wait! what's your name, and what's going on?" you sputtered, just as the woman was about to walk away.

"now I'm sure you've hit your heads. I'm agatha, head chambermaid and in one week from now is the duel of knights. we are hosting for the first spell in a decade and tis in a week. now get up and get to work!" agatha demanded.

dumbfounded, you and eunseok simply stared at the clothes she handed you. "let's just go along with it. maybe we can pretend we're a part of whatever this is and avoid getting in trouble." you urged.

"what about the rest? won't they notice we're gone?" he worried. "let's just focus on getting out of here."

he nodded in response and the two of you rushed to find a place to change into your clothes. once you were changed, you walked out and led eunseok back to the secret entrance.

to your surprise, the parking lot that was once set up in front of the castle had been replaced with a moat. a large moat at that. with a ginormous drawbridge leading to a dirt path. the city looked different as well, with the cars being replaced with horse carriages and once large, gray buildings now appearing much smaller and made of stone and wood.

"is there some city-wide renaissance fair happening? are we getting pranked? where's the cameras?" eunseok whipped his head around, waiting to see john quinones pop up at any second.

"is this a dream? did i go unconscious during the fall down the stairs? quick, y/n! pinch me."

you did so eagerly.

"ow! what the hell? I didn't mean literally." he complained, rubbing his arm.

"will you shut up? i need to find out what's going on." you huffed. pulling out your phone, you saw that there was no signal or wi-fi network available nearby. "that's weird, I swore the website said the castle had guest wi-fi." you muttered.

"i have an international data plan, let me try," eunseok whipped out his phone, only to find there was no signal on his device either.

"do you think... maybe, we're actually back in the medieval times?" you shuddered.

eunseok never laughed louder in his life.

"yes, y/n. we time traveled like we're in back to the future! should I call you marty? or do you want to be the old scientist?" he cackled.

"his name is doc brown. and I'm being serious," you began, "how else would all these buildings change overnight, and why else would all these people be wearing clothes from a different time period. look around: there's not a phone, car, or even pavement road in sight. there's no way we were in the castle long enough for them to make all those changes either."

"let's just talk to an actual sane person here and I'm sure they'll explain everything." he assured.

just then, a young woman wearing a silk blue gown walked past, surrounded by two men in armor.

"excuse me, miss. sorry to interrupt your little role-play party but my friend and i were wondering if we could use your phone to make a quick call." eunseok asked.

one of the men rushed forward, "halt! how dare thee speak so freely to her highness, the crown princess."

eunseok rolled his eyes, "i'm not hitting on your chick, dude, i just want to use a phone."

the armor-clad man suddenly put his sword up to eunseok's neck. "what the hell?" eunseok exclaimed.

"release him! who are you sir and why doth thee use such... peculiar language?" the princess implored.

"you people are psychos. no way you're taking this shit so seriously." eunseok grumbled, rubbing his neck after the guard let him go.

"answer her highness!" the other guard insisted.

"we are travelers, here to observe the duel of knights! I must apologize for my companion, he is delirious from traveling all day." you interjected, grabbing eunseok and beginning to walk away.

"wait! your companion is… quite handsome. and his odd way of speaking is rather charming. i wish for him to compete for my hand during the duel!" the princess chirped.

"yeah right, you're crazy if you think I'm gonna-" eunseok was interrupted by your hand slapping over his mouth.

"whatever you wish, your highness." you responded, bowing curtly.

"wondrous! I would also like to invite thee to stay at my manor. surely a handsome man like you is a person of importance." she batted her lashes at him.

"no thanks weirdo-"

"we would love to! we thank you kindly for the offer your highness!" you interrupted eunseok again.

"oh I must have misspoke. I did not invite your mistress, only you." she spoke, shooting daggers at you.

"mistress?!" you gasped which made eunseok send you a shit-eating grin.

"actually, I would prefer my mistress stays with me, if that's alright 'your highness'" eunseok mocked.

the princess rolled her eyes and agreed reluctantly. once the princess and her guards were out of sight, you turned to eunseok. "see how those men didn't hesitate to hurt you? we're clearly in a different place!"

"yeah, a place where people have lost their minds." he scoffed.

"and her dress! it was real silk and embroidered with gold! I doubt a cosplayer has enough money to pull that off, especially in this economy." you tried convincing him.

"fine. lets say we really time-traveled to the 14th century and the princess wants me to join a little duel for her hand. does that mean...

... that i'm hot by both modern and medieval standards?"

you may not like eunseok, but he is quite attractive. it's no wonder his looks attracted the affections of a princess.

"eunseok! will you take this seriously? she wants you to participate in the duel of knights for her, do you understand how dangerous that is?" you practically screamed at him.

"yeah yeah the duel of knights is a fight to the death between the most skilled swordsmen of a kingdom for the right to court noblewomen and the princess. i know it may be hard for you to believe but i passed our medieval history class y/n." he quipped.

"and you realize you will be fighting those men to the death, right?" you asked.

"sure, i'll fight a bunch of history nerds in party city costumes." he chuckled.

you grabbed him by the arm and began pulling him in the direction of the city center… or what used to be the city center and now looked like a town square.

"we really need to talk- about boundaries because you-hey! can't keep dragging me around like a ragdoll-" he struggled as you continued tugging him into the busy streets.

"i'll stop when you quit being so stubborn. i'm gonna show you just how real this is." you stormed.

by the time you reached the city you were greeted with a sign that read 'SM's southern district' in big letters and below it in a smaller font was inscribed 'taverns, traders, and shops'.

perfect.

the two of you went inside a tailor's shop since you deduced that if you were going to pretend to be people important to stay at the castle, you should dress the part.

as soon as you stepped inside, the tailor called out "good morrow strangers, thou must be travelers from far hence."

"why yes, and we were-" you started before the tailor cut you off, "is there anything I may help you with, good sir?" he ignored you for eunseok.

you forgot that as fun as the medieval period was to learn about, it was hell to live through as a woman.

trying to bite your tongue, you waited for eunseok to respond.

"yeah, can we get some fancy clothes?" he asked nonchalantly.

you sent him a glare as the shopkeeper stared at him puzzled, "I'm afraid I do not understand your way of speaking."

"what he means to ask is if we may purchase some refined garments?" you asked, clearing your throat, only for the tailor to continue to ignore you.

sighing, eunseok repeated, "may we purchase some refined garments?" the tailor's head snapped up and he grinned, "of course, good sir! for the lady as well?"

"yes." you stated through gritted teeth. no response. "yes." eunseok repeated once again, to which the tailor nodded.

as the tailor went off to find some clothing for the two of you, you turned to eunseok, "I thought you were a history buff, how do you not know how to speak to these people?" you interrogated.

"first of all, i specialize in east asian history. second, I didn't think I'd ever actually have to rely on my shakespeare lessons from high school."

the tailor came back rather quickly with suits for eunseok and a few uncomfortable-looking but beautiful dresses for you. at least they didn't wear many corsets in medieval england.

"I shall fit them to the both of your measurements and you will be able to pick them up in a few days time. services included, the charge will be 30 pounds, good sir." the man said, awaiting eagerly for eunseok to pay.

"right... one second, good sir?" eunseok hesitated awkwardly, turning to you "you don't have any money, do you?"

"my wallet should be in my pocket... shit I left it when we changed our clothes in the castle. ask him if we can pay him when we come back to grab our clothes." you urged eunseok.

"how the hell do I say that?" he panicked. "just try your best!" you whisper-shouted.

turning back to the tailor, eunseok sputtered out "may we pay... in a few day's time... perchance?"

the shopkeeper looked confused before laughing, "doth thee wish to pay at which hour you come to pick up the garments?"

eunseok nodded vigorously which was enough to communicate the message across to the tailor.

once you left the shop, eunseok breathed a sigh of relief "okay, I believe you. we time-traveled, nothing makes sense, and I'll do anything to get back to the 2020s."

"let's head back to castle, grab my wallet, and we'll figure out what to do from there. we already have a place to stay anyway." you declared.

"if you weren't... yourself, I'd find it hot how calm and collected you are about this," he admitted. you shot him an annoyed look.

"sorry I don't know how to regulate my emotions... or my thoughts... or words. we traveled back in time. we're marty and the doctor guy." eunseok began rambling.

"it's doc brown. and calm down." you grasped his shoulders. "we're going to get out of here, because i need electric plumbing and I refuse to die of syphilis. but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy our time here. you and I both love history right? well now we get to experience it ourselves!" you exclaimed.

there's that look in her eye, the one she always gets when she's talking about history. I could stare at her forever... what the hell am I thinking? it's been a long day and I should get some rest.

you noticed eunseok spacing out while looking at you so you shook his shoulders a bit which jolted him awake, "so what do you say?"

"fine. let's experience your nerdy little medieval fantasy. but, we find out how to get out of here as soon as possible in the meantime." he agreed.

as you guys made your way back to castle, you were stopped by guards in front of the moat. "who art thee and what business doth thy have at riize castle?" a guard barked.

"we were personally invited by her majesty the princess to stay at the castle until the duel of knights." you reported. you saw the guard contemplating a bit before giving the other guards the signal to let you in.

breathing a sigh of relief, you headed towards the castle doors. after a few steps you realized eunseok hadn't moved from his spot.

"what are you doing? let's go back inside!" you scolded him. he looked completely pale and visibly shaken as he started towards you, "y/n. if we're really in medieval times... does that mean I have to fight during the duel of knights?" he fretted.

"i can't die yet. i haven't gotten cross-faded yet! do they even have weed here? I told myself once I leave korea I'd try it but what if I don't even get to experience that-" he began rambling once again.

you grabbed onto his hand, similar to how you did in the plane before trying to calm him down, "you won't die, because you won't fight anybody. we'll find a way to get back to our time before then, it's in a week so we have plenty of time. and you can always just try getting out of it by asking the princess!" you assured.

"you're right!" he exclaimed, squeezing your hand and pulling you into a hug. by the time you processed what was happening, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

that can't be right. butterflies... over eunseok? maybe I'm just touch-starved.

he pulled away rather quickly though, awkwardly trying to move past you to rush into the castle gates as if it would somehow undo his action.

fuck. did I make things awkward? did I kind of like the hug? wait-why do I care? we're just classmates who time-traveled together, nothing more and nothing less.

you followed after him until you reach the room you stumbled out of a few hours prior. digging through the pile of your old clothes, you were able to find your wallet.

fortunately, you exchanged some of your dollars for pounds at the airport. unfortunately, modern-day pounds look nothing like the ones they used in the 14th century.

"I don't think he'll even take these." you sighed, waving around the colorful bills with queen elizabeth's face stamped on them.

"we'll just say it's currency from... wherever we're from." he shrugged.

"and where's that?"

"uhhhh... america?"

"europeans haven't even heard of america yet." you rolled your eyes.

"which is why it'll work perfectly, they'll think it's some secluded, far away town." eunseok reasoned.

you don't know if it was eunseok's annoying presence or the lack of sleep you've had in the last 24 hours, but you felt a migraine coming on. massaging your temples, you decided you should take a nap before you try to find a way back to the future.

"let's get some rest, we can worry about everything else later." you yawned.

"where are we gonna sleep? the princess didn't even tell us which room we'd be staying in." he remarked.

"maybe we could ask agatha." you figured, walking towards the center hall.

"stop wandering off! we could get lost, this place is huge." eunseok argued.

"we won't. I know this place like the back of my hand." you assured.

"nerd." he commented, under his breath. for the sake of your sanity, you pretended you didn't hear anything.

with all the people rushing around the castle corridors it was nearly impossible to pinpoint agatha, and you ended up walking headfirst into the chest of a tall, handsome man wearing a padded shirt, usually worn by knights underneath their armor.

the man was slightly sweaty and holding a leather-wrapped sword in his hand, he must've been a knight coming back from training.

"art thou alright, madam?" the man asked. i am now.

eunseok let out a loud cough behind you, "she's fine. let's go, y/n."

"doth thou not recognize me? perhaps the two of you are not from here." the man reasoned.

"we're travelers, from... america." you hesitated.

"america? where is that?" the man questioned.

"tis a small town up north." you stated, trying to sound as sure of yourself as possible.

"makes sense." the man nodded "what business do you have in my castle. i've never seen you around, and I reckon I would remember a face as enchanting as yours."

am i getting hit on by a hot knight? maybe staying here isn't such a bad idea after all.

"your castle?" eunseok replied.

"yes. i am the crown prince, anton. now remind me again what you're doing in my castle?" anton asked.

"the crown princess invited us, my... brother here is to compete in the duel of knights." you quickly added.

"brother? I thought you were supposed to be my mistress-" eunseok started before you cut him off.

"do you know where the princess may be? she hasn't yet told us in which room we shall be staying." you asked the prince.

"ah, forgive my sister for she is very easily overexcited. I doubt she put much thought into housing you two as guests. I'd usually turn two strangers away, but you're an exception," he stared at you intently, "i'll arrange a room for the two of you shortly. in the meantime, would you care to join my family and I for dinner? it's the least we can do as hosts for you as you've traveled so far."

"we'd love to!" you exclaimed. "wondrous! I shall see you in two hours for dinner. the maids will help you to get ready." he smiled, kissing your hand before he walked away. you felt your cheeks heating up as you waved him goodbye.

"I thought you were tired. now you wanna have dinner with the royal family?" eunseok grumbled.

"eunseok, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. eating dinner in a castle with medieval royalty! how many people can say they've done that?" you beamed.

eunseok held back a smile as you gushed about the opportunity. why is she so cute today?

in a matter of minutes, a young woman approached the two of you, ushering you into a room.

"...here is the closet, and finally, the washroom. I shall give the two of you your privacy now." the woman bowed her head before exiting quickly.

"that was a quick tour." eunseok joked. "she must be busy preparing for the duel." you figured.

"ugh, don't remind me of the duel." he dramatically collapsed on the bed. "wait... is there only one bed?"

am I being lazy and using the one bed trope? guilty!

"I'm honestly too tired to care. scooch over." you shoved him to one side of the bed as you made yourself comfortable on the other. you wouldn't usually be so bold, but you were exhausted. after nearly getting arrested and getting stuck in the 14th century, you deserved a nap.

eunseok, on the other hand, was more wide awake than ever. he didn't want to look immature and get up the second you laid down, but he was even more nervous around you right now than usual.

looking over at your figure, he was shocked to see that you had already passed out. he couldn't hold back the small smile on his lips while watching you.

what the hell am I doing? I look like a creep. he thought, snapping himself out of his daze. deciding to wash up, he headed the the bathroom.

great. a large tub, a couple of buckets, and a hole in the ground. not a single source of running water in sight.

venturing out of the room, he tried calling one of the maids rushing past for some water but everyone seemed to be preoccupied.

annoyed, eunseok decided to try finding water himself. just because y/n's annoyingly obsessed with this castle and knows how to talk like these people, doesn't mean I'm completely lost without her.

after a few minutes of wandering around the castle, eunseok was completely lost.

unknowingly, he stumbled into the throne room while the princess was in the middle of receiving a lecture from her advisors.

"you mustn't invite complete strangers into the castle. do you understand how harmful that could be?" one of the advisors warned.

eunseok tried leaving as quietly as possible but it was to no avail as the princess spotted him almost immediately.

"you! traveler! what is your name?" she chirped, jumping up and heading towards him.

fuck.

"eunseok, your highness." he shared through gritted teeth.

"what an odd name! I suppose tis because thou are from a far away land. my brother told me you were from am-amiri? amera? what ever it's called." she rambled.

"i am princess giselle, and between you and i, you're my favorite contender for the duel of knights. oh how I hope you win and earn my hand." she gushed.

"i hope so too." he responded nervously.

"the prince told me the woman you were with is your sister, did you not refer to her as your mistress earlier... sir is your sister your mistress?" the princess gasped.

"umm, no! where I'm from we use the word mistress instead of sister. silly, isn't it?" he hesitated, holding his breath as he waited for giselle's reaction.

the princess burst into laughter, "how amusing! oh please don't die during the duel so you may make me laugh for the rest of my life." she cooed.

the hairs on the back of eunseok's neck stood up. even if he manages to survive the duel, he'll have to spend the rest of his life married to a loud-mouthed princess in a castle with no electricity.

I have to find a way to get out of this time.

"if you would excuse me, I should wake up my, er, sister for dinner!" eunseok mumbled, turning to walk away.

"nonsense! I'll have a servant do so. you may have the privilege of sitting with me until then." she assured.

"well, I was actually thinking of washing up before-"

"why would you need to wash up? you look perfectly clean." the princess interjected.

eunseok was anything but perfectly clean, but then again, that was by 21st century standards. in 14th century england, even royalty only bathed about once a month.

I can't believe it's gotten to this point, but I really wish y/n were here right now.

as princess giselle kept eunseok company, you were lightly shaken awake by a familiar figure: agatha. once you finally sat up, you heard her gasp.

"aren't you the servant from earlier? what are you doing in the guest bed?!" she shrilled.

"well... we're travelers invited by the princess. besides, it was you who assumed we were servants." you tried shifting the blame.

she put a hand above her heart, "goodness! that explains your odd clothing and speech. oh I apologize deeply. how can I make up for my terrible mistake?" she begged.

you felt bad seeing how apologetic agatha looked, but you remembered there was a favor you needed. "very well, then I demand full access to the storage room in the servant chambers." you declared.

agatha sent you a puzzling look, "what's so special about the storage room, my lady?"

well for starters, it's an opportunity for me to study a room never heard of by most historians. and a way for me to figure out how we got here, and hopefully, how to get home.

"i... liked it?" you said lamely. agatha simply nodded, "anything else?" she added.

"a piece of paper and a writing instrument, please."

"for your lord?"

right. most people, especially women, were illiterate during this time.

"um... yes!" you lied, not wanting to make yourself stand out anymore.

"I shall see to it." agatha dismissed herself.

as soon as she left the room, you collapsed back onto the bed. all you needed was some quality alone time-

the door burst open again, with a flock of servants pouring in. "we must prepare you for the dinner!"

for the next thirty minutes, you were stripped, clothed, had your hair done up in an elaborate hairstyle, and exposed to powders and cosmetics you were 99% sure were toxic. you almost didn't recognize yourself in the mirror, but you had to admit the dress was flattering and you might even copy the hairstyle when you get back to your time.

as annoying as it was, it was fascinating to experience everything you've read about in books up until now. the history nerd in you couldn't help but marvel at it all.

by the time you arrived at the dining room, you were greeted with the sight of eunseok sitting next to the princess, looking mildly irritated. you spotted an open seat next to the prince directly across eunseok and decided to sit there.

shooting the boy a small smile, you sat next to anton who immediately began talking to you.

eunseok took in your appearance, staring intensely at you.

she looks stupid... with her big hair, obnoxiously red lips, long gown, perfect smile-snap out of it!

"lord eunseok, why are you staring at your sister like that?" princess giselle asked loudly, catching your attention.

you turned your head quick enough to see eunseok staring at you with a look of... admiration? impossible.

he turned tomato red and cleared his throat, "I was... wondering what we'd be eating for dinner! I'm famished."

"once mother and father arrive, we may begin eating." prince anton assured. he turned to you, "tell me about your family, lady y/n. aside from your brother here, of course."

eunseok rolled his eyes. why's he so concerned with y/n? and why is this princess on my case?

after a few minutes of you and anton conversing and eunseok stealing glances of you while giselle talked his head off, the king and queen arrived.

you immediately got up and curtseyed to them, gesturing for eunseok to bow. "your majesty, tis my pleasure to dine with you." you resounded.

"my children have told me much about you. do tell me about this 'america'" the king mused.

the rest of the dinner consisted of you and eunseok making up ridiculous facts about america and your backgrounds. occasionally, you'd send each other knowing looks and have to stifle your laughs. it was the closest the two of you got to bonding this whole trip.

by the time the dinner came to a close, anton rose up slowly. "I wish to make an announcement." once he had everyone's attention, he continued, "I have completed my knight training this year, and I have father's word that I will be able to compete in the upcoming duel of knights."

"excuse me?" the queen cried out, "it is far too dangerous. and whose hand will you be competing for? your sister's?"

"of course not. I will be competing for lady y/n's hand."

"WHAT?" you and eunseok yelled in unison. "I understand this may come as a surprise to you, my sweet y/n, but I truly feel we have developed a connection."

we met two hours ago!!!

"NO!" you screamed, resulting in horrified looks on everyone else's face, "I mean... no, your highness. I could never expect you to put your life at risk for my hand, PLEASE reconsider." you begged.

"nonsense. the last ten knights left standing win the duel, and I am sure my son is capable of coming in tenth place at the very least." the king argued.

"charles, he is but a boy-" the queen began, angrily.

"he is twenty for christ's sake! I was even younger when I competed. there will no more discussion, anton will be competing for lady y/n's hand and lord eunseok will compete for giselle's." the king settled

fuck.

"what the hell are we going to do?" eunseok panicked once the two of you were back in your room. "if we don't leave before next week, I'm going to die fighting for a girl I don't even want and you're going to get married to that guy!"

"you care about whether or not I get married to the prince?" you teased. "what? no, I- shut up." he deflected.

"relax. I got us unlimited access to the storage closet. whatever brought us here is in there, I know it. we'll look through it tomorrow and find out how to go home." you determined.

"and if we don't?" he gulped. "then we'll figure something out." you resolved, holding onto his shoulders. "we'll be alright, we have eachother." you smiled.

you couldn't explain why you were being so nice to the man you swore you hated just yesterday, but something about the vulnerability of your situation made you desperate to hold onto the only ally you have.

eunseok's heart rate increased in response to your words and close proximity, he couldn't help but stare at your lips. "they overdid it with the lipstick." he commented, mindlessly.

"it's a mixture of berries. and I know." you giggled.

before you could say anything else, eunseok began leaning in. his lips were on yours in a matter of seconds, and it felt completely natural.

your friends always joked that the two of you were just covering up sexual tension with the whole rivalry thing, and you're embarrassed to admit you may have fantasized about kissing eunseok before, but you never in a million years thought it would actually happen.

the kiss was slow yet passionate, there was an unprecedented amount of emotion in it, you felt like you were drowning in it.

eunseok was on cloud nine, it was better than any other kiss he's ever had. his hands wandered to hold your waist tightly as yours flew to his hair.

you don't know how long the kiss has lasted so far, but you know that you never want it to end.

except it does. when the prince and princess walk in on the two of you.

as soon as you heard princess giselle scream, the two of you pulled away, but it was too late. they had seen enough.

"you people are sick! I should have known it when you said you call your sisters your mistresses!" the princess cried out.

before she could say another word, you and eunseok dragged the siblings inside and shut the door. "what the hell are we going to do now?" eunseok frantically whispered to you.

"we have to come clean." you said, which eunseok shook his head 'no' to almost immediately.

"anton, giselle, we lied to you." you confessed while eunseok stayed silent.

"I knew it! there is no america. are you thieves? or spies? who sent you?!" giselle accused.

"there is an america, and we did come from there. but we came from a different america than the one that exists today... we're from the future." you shared.

it didn't take long for both siblings to burst into laughter. "the future? do you take us for fools?" anton choked out.

"it's true! eunseok, show them your phone." you insisted. he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen, causing it to illuminate.

"sorcerers!" giselle screeched.

"it's not sorcery, it's technology! it's made from various metals and allows you to communicate with people across large distances." you explained.

"sounds like sorcery to me." anton commented.

"y/n, you've spent years studying this stupid castle, don't you know anything about the residents? there has to be some information you have on the royal family that could convince them." eunseok looked to you.

"well I wasn't able to study much on these two because they both died young..." you said quietly.

"WHAT?" giselle screamed. "how dare you even suggest that?" anton stood up angrily.

"the records I read said you passed away during the duel of knights when you were 20 and that giselle was unable to take over the throne afterwards because she disappeared one night and was presumed dead... but some say she fell in love with a commoner and eloped with him." you shared.

this caused giselle to gasp loudly, "you... i... i believe them."

"how?" anton interjected, "she just said I'll die and you'll elope with a commoner. you show interest in every nobleman you come across and get over them in a matter of days. there's no way you'd fall in love with a common man and elope."

"I've been pretending to be boy-obsessed so nobody finds out that i..." giselle hesitated "i'm in love with mark."

"the stable boy?" anton cried out. "he always mentions the possibility of eloping but I never took it seriously-" she began.

"you two can sort out whatever's going on with mark later, can we go back to y/n and I time-traveling?" eunseok interrupted.

"how did you even end up here?" anton asked.

"in our time, your castle is a historical monument. eunseok and I managed to sneak in, but we were about to get caught so we hid in a storage room. when we emerged, we were transported to your time." you explained.

it took the siblings a while to process your story, but they agreed to help the two of you find a way to get back to your time. once everything was settled, anton asked to speak to you privately--which eunseok did not like.

"I'm sorry for lying, anton, I was just trying to avoid getting in trouble." you apologized, breaking the awkward silence.

"I understand. I've been meaning to ask about you and eunseok. are the two of you...?" he began.

"I don't know what we are. this whole day has been confusing for the both of us." you answered honestly.

"right." he replied, sadly. "well, I wanted to ask you specifically about my death. does the future really say I die in the upcoming duel?"

"i'm sorry anton... i know how excited you are for it."

"excited? i'm dreading it." he chuckled dryly. "i've only ever shown interest in being a knight because of my father. he was a knight back in his day, that's how he courted my mother and became king."

"wait, so you don't want to compete in the duel?" you queried.

"absolutely not! I'm terrified. I've always wanted to be a writer, but my father told me I have no time for silly dreams like that. I'm the heir to the throne, after all."

I feel horrible, most of the documents i read mentioned anton as an eager knight-in-training, but I guess history books aren't always accurate.

you grabbed anton by the hand and began taking him back to where eunseok and giselle were.

"so you really don't think I'm handsome?" you overheard eunseok asking giselle. "you're okay-looking... but I just needed a cover-up for my late-night rendezvous with mark." she shrugged as eunseok's face fell.

"eunseok. giselle. we need to do something before we go back in time." you announced.

"and what's that?" eunseok responded.

"we're getting anton out of the duel of knights." you declared.

"but how? father is adamant on him competing." giselle protested, "and I doubt he'll believe your time-traveling story."

"we'll just have to figure out a way." you said stubbornly.

although eunseok and giselle seemed uneasy, anton sent you a grateful look which was enough.

the next few days were spent with you and eunseok exploring the storage room and you writing down as much as you could about the contents of the room as well as the royal family.

eunseok agreed to help giselle meet with mark in secret and you agreed to help anton with his writing. in return, the siblings helped you look through the castle library on anything related to time-travel.

to avoid the awkwardness of sleeping in the same bed with eunseok after the kiss, anton offered up his room and slept with him instead.

there was now four days left until the duel, and you still had no idea how to get back or take anton out of the competition. anton and eunseok seemed to get a lot closer though, either through sharing a room or the mutual dread of having to fight to the death in a few days time.

"y/n, can I speak with you. it won't take up much time." giselle asked you. "of course, what's up?" you responded.

"what's up?" she repeated, "what is the matter." you corrected yourself. you and eunseok let down your guard when it came to speaking in old english since the siblings already knew your secret anyway.

"you said in the future, I disappear. mark keeps asking to elope, especially with the duel of knights approaching as many men will be aiming for my hand." she worried, "I'm scared, y/n. I don't wish to leave but I don't wish to lose my beloved either. what do I do?"

you honestly had no idea. maybe it was a bad idea telling them their fates, but if i can try helping them avoid it, I should.

"I think you should try telling your parents. how bad could it be?" you said, stupidly.

"are you serious? they would murder him and i for even suggesting it. royals and commoners don't belong together, of course you wouldn't understand." she stormed.

"okay, okay I'm sorry. I really don't understand. I'm used to modern royalty, where the prince of england married an actress and left the royal family, then got to go on oprah." giselle shot you a confused look, "but if you never try, you'll never know."

"i suppose you're right. but I'm far too terrified of my parents." she sighed. before you could respond, eunseok called out to you, ushering you and giselle to join him and anton.

"we found a way to get out of the duel!" he shared excitedly.

"and how is that?" giselle asked, unconvinced.

"knights are covered head-to-toe in armor, right? we'll just pay two knights to replace us! anton said he's got the money covered."

"yes, I have the money covered, as they say in future america." anton added enthusiastically.

"and you've already found these knights?" you asked, "how do you know they won't tell the king?"

"we did, and anton made them swear because they are under an oath to serve him." eunseok shared proudly.

"don't you think that's a bit wrong, abusing your power? and what's gonna happen at the end of the duel when you have to take your helmets off?" you badgered.

"will you stop being such a baby, y/n? we'll tell them to keep their helmets on, and both you and giselle will be there anyways so you can cover for us." he argued.

"well i'm sorry that I want to make sure your little plan is foolproof so you don't, y'know, die." you fumed.

and just like that, the two of you began arguing again. giselle and anton gave each other a worried look before rushing out of the room, leaving the two of you yelling at each other.

"you're getting a bit too comfortable here, don't you think?" you scoffed.

"comfortable?! you think I want to spend the rest of my life in the 14th fucking century?" eunseok retorted.

"well you've barely been any help in looking for a way back. i've been the only one searching that stupid room for any traces of how we got here!"

"maybe because we've been searching that room for four days and haven't found anything. excuse me for trying to make sure I don't die before I find a way to travel back, if there even is a way."

you stepped closer to him, still seething "you piss me off to no end, song eunseok. you're the last person I wish I was trapped with in this stupid century!"

"do you really think you're my perfect idea of a travel buddy? my life is a mess, all thanks to you!" he snapped.

"I didn't ask you to follow me like a crazed stalker, did I? so why did you?"

eunseok finally went quiet. it seems like he didn't really know the answer either.

you were irritated, but you didn't want to keep arguing, so you decided to walk away before he started up again, "I'm going to town to pick up our clothes from the tailor."

up until now you've been wearing the servant clothes agatha brought you to bed and borrowing the royal sibling's clothes during the day. it'll be nice to finally have our own sets of clothing.

you tried to organize your thoughts but you were still thinking of eunseok. it's not like you haven't argued with him before, but they've never been so... personal.

it pained you to say but his words hurt you. you don't know when you started caring about what eunseok has to say but some time along the last four days you've been trapped here, you started to feel more strongly about him.

and you definitely can't forget about the kiss. you can't believe the two of you just acted completely normal after that. you were too scared to bring it up and so was eunseok.

he's so confusing. one day we're making out and the next we're screaming at each other... and it doesn't help that I can't read him at all.

by the time you were done reflecting on your entire relationship with eunseok, you reached the tailor's shop. walking in, you greeted one of the workers there before informing them of your prior visit.

as the worker brought out your clothes, he held his hand out waiting for the payment.

shit. I didn't bring any money. and it's not like the money I had would've done much anyway.

"I-um, I don't think I can give you the payment just yet," you stuttered, nervous.

"why not?" the worker asked, already putting the clothing back.

"because-"

"because i'll be paying." you heard a familiar voice ring from behind you. what is he doing here?

eunseok walked past you and handed over the old-timey pounds to the worker, taking the sets from him in the process.

once the transaction was finished he walked past you and out of the shop, completely ignoring you. confused, you caught up to him.

"did you seriously follow me again? what's your problem?!" you exploded on the street, catching the attention of nearby townsfolk.

"I saw that you left your wallet and didn't even bother asking for money from the prince or princess. you're welcome for saving you the embarrassment and a trip back-and-forth from the castle." he retorted, stopping to turn to you.

"I don't want to argue. not right now, and not in public." he sighed "good. because neither do i." you sassed, walking past him deeper into the district center.

he rolled his eyes and continued after you, "where are you going?"

"does it matter? or were you planning on stalking me again." you retaliated.

i should just leave her alone if she's going to be so difficult... but this place is sketchy and confusing, and it's getting dark.

"I don't think it's safe to walk around alone here, it's almost sunset." he called out.

"I'm a grown woman, I can handle myself." you refused.

"fine." eunseok said, turning to walk back to the castle.

you spent the next two hours making a mental map of the district, excited to write all about it later. you had to admit this was a much more fun way to learn about history than sitting around with a textbook and reading all day.

unfortunately for you, there weren't any clocks around, so it was easier to lose track of time. you figured it must be around 9 p.m. and decided to head back to the castle.

after about 15 minutes of wandering the streets, you realized you were lost.

fuck. I can't believe I'm about to prove eunseok right. whatever, he's probably living it up at the castle, especially since I'm not there.

on the contrary, eunseok was worried sick. "what if she was kidnapped, or fell down a well or something?" he ranted to anton.

"we shall find her, there's no need to worry." anton assured as they headed out the castle gate.

as the two of them began walking, eunseok couldn't help but overthink.

I shouldn't have let her walk away. and I can't believe the last conversation we had was an argument. what if something bad happened to her? how will I forgive myself?

eunseok doesn't know when or how he became so worried about you, but what he did know was his heart was pounding just thinking about you.

"what... relationship do you and y/n share?" anton inquired as they walked. "we're just school peers." eunseok answered coldly.

anton laughed in response, “peers do not thrust their tongues into each other's mouths."

eunseok's ears turned red upon hearing the younger boy's comment.

"they also wouldn't worry as much as you are right now." anton added.

"she's my ticket back to the 21st century, of course I'm on edge. I need her help finding the way home." eunseok shrugged.

"whatever you say." anton smiled.

"are you into her or something?" eunseok asked, trying to sound casual.

"pardon me?"

"do you wish to wed her?" eunseok sighed. I'm definitely not gonna miss these shakespearean conversations.

"well... she is strikingly beautiful... and strong, and intelligent, and-"

"okay I get it." eunseok cut him off, erupting another laugh in anton.

"but she seems to only have eyes for you. besides, I'm a bit more preoccupied with the duel as of now." anton commented carelessly.

she has eyes for me? eunseok thought to himself again and again until they reached a nearby tavern.

it was then that the pair spotted your figure arguing with a clearly drunken man. before he knew it, eunseok rushed to your side to defend you from the man until he heard your conversation.

"you've gone mad if you think euripides is anywhere close to sophocles!" you yelled.

"you're the mad one, sophocles couldn't have written medea but euripides could have easily written oedipus rex in his sleep!" the man yelled back.

of course she's arguing over history. what a nerd.

"pardon us sir." eunseok interjected, dragging you away by the arm.

"hey! I wasn't finished. and stop dragging me." you ripped your arm away. "now you know how I feel." eunseok scoffed.

"y/n! are you alright?" anton asked. "yes, I'm fine. and I was just about to make my way back to the castle." you asserted.

"point in the direction of the castle." eunseok challenged. you pointed in a random direction hoping it would be somewhat close.

"you were going to head north, further into the town when the castle is down south." eunseok smirked.

if he didn't look so good right now I'd smack that smirk right off his face.

the walk back to the castle was dead silent, with poor anton making the occasional comment trying to spur conversation, but you and eunseok weren't having it.

when you finally reached the castle, anton excused himself leaving you and eunseok alone.

sighing, eunseok broke the silence first, "I was worried about you."

you whipped your head up. did i hear that right?

"I don't hate you. I hope you know that." he went on.

"I don't hate you either." you added. for the first time in a long time you looked at him in the eye.

the tension was palpable, but before you could act on any of your emotions, eunseok turned away. "goodnight, y/n." he walked off.

ouch. I know I said I wanted him to leave me alone, but not like this.

time passed by until it was the morning of the duel. you and eunseok had been growing even more desperate to find a way back home, and giselle and anton were getting even more nervous about the duel approaching.

eunseok had remained distant since that night, and although you hadn't argued since then, you also haven't really spoken much.

you missed him, but you had more important things to focus on.

as the knights began suiting up, you and giselle headed to your seats at the top of the arena. the arena was full of thousands of people, ranging from commoners to nobles.

if everything went to plan, the knights pretending to be anton and eunseok would win the duel, one of them would pretend to be injured and the other would carry them off into the stables where they would switch places with the real eunseok and anton.

of course, nothing ever goes according to plan. 'eunseok' was slain within the first ten minutes.

despite you having no connection to them, it hurt you to see young men lose their lives for a tradition meant to please the rich and powerful. and it hurt even more knowing that this tradition would continue for a few more centuries.

however, not everyone else shared your sympathies, as the majority of the crowd cheered excitedly with each kill. that was... until 'anton' was slain an hour in.

the entire arena went silent and the king jumped out of his seat, "stop the tournament! stop it now!"

oh shit.

the king ran down to check on his 'son' only to reveal a complete stranger under the helmet. still teary-eyed, the king roared "what is the meaning of this?"

we're screwed. we're so so screwed.

just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, the real eunseok and anton entered the arena, assuming the silence meant it was over.

"son! what have you done? answer me, boy!" the king seethed. "i... i don't wish to be a knight." anton confessed, eliciting gasps from the crowd.

"what on earth has gotten into you? is it that boy next to you influencing you?"

"no! I never wanted it. you know I've always wanted to pursue writing-"

"nonsense. you are to be a king. and a king is to be able to fight for his people. will words on paper solve wars? no. only a sword will protect your throne."

dejected, anton nodded before eunseok interrupted, "weren't you just crying over your son's death?"

another round of gasps travelled through the arena. "how dare you speak to me that way? I should have your head cut off!"

"all I'm saying is, if anton listened to you and fought, he'd be dead right now. is forcing him into combat worth losing your son?" eunseok reasoned.

the king faltered for a moment before recovering, "he is not enough of a man to look me in the eye and you want me to let him pursue his childish fantasies?"

in that moment, anton snapped, raising his head, "if I am to be heir to the throne than you will treat me as such. my whole life I've done what you wanted me to do, and look how that would have ended," he paused, pointing at the corpse on the floor.

"father, i assure you I am grown enough to discern what I want and don't want. and what I don't want is a life of a knight. I am not an extension of you, I am my own person, and most importantly, I am a writer." anton concluded.

the crowd erupted into cheers at the prince's heroic delivery until giselle ran down, seemingly inspired.

oh no.

"and I am in love with a stable-boy!" she declared loudly.

just like that, the arena was dead silent again and the king went red with anger.

"this is all your fault!" he pointed at eunseok "you, and that sister-mistress of yours!"

the crowd began murmuring, confused.

"guards, execute them!" he declared.

now you were definitely screwed.

you saw eunseok running out the back as giselle and anton held their father back. panicking, you ran through the back of the arena, meeting up with eunseok.

"what the hell are we going to do?" he panted. you grabbed onto his hand and began running into the castle. you're not sure why, but your gut was telling you to head to the storage room.

once you reached the room, eunseok whispered "won't this be the first place they'll look for us?"

" just hurry up and light the candle, I have to grab my papers." you rushed. he found a set of matches and lit the candle as you frantically searched for all your research.

you heard voices gathering around the outside of the door.

"y/n. if we really do die, I need to tell you something." eunseok began dramatically.

"I love-"

he was interrupted by a banging noise on the door. you quickly blew the candle out, hoping the darkness would somehow make the two of you invisible.

but it was too late, the door flew open, and a man came down the stairs holding a... flashlight?

"stop there! london police, you are under arrest for trespassing."

"what?" you muttered, confused.

"oh my-OH MY GOD. we're back... we're back! what year is it?" eunseok asked the officer desperately.

"are you two on some sort of narcotics?" the officer asked.

the two of you were then escorted to the police station where your group supervisor had to bail you out. you and eunseok were grinning ear-to-ear the entire time.

you were informed that you couldn't go on the tour as a result of your trespassing and you couldn't care less. "I know how much you were looking forward to it, are you sure you'll be okay?" your friend asked, worried.

"I'll be fine! go enjoy it for me." you assured. I'm sick of that damn castle anyway.

after taking a long, warm bath, you settled onto the hotel couch before hearing a knock on your door.

opening it, you were greeted with the sight of an awkward eunseok.

"hey... can I come in?" he asked, nervous. "yeah." you smiled.

"I'm still trying to convince myself that was all real." he chuckled.

"me too." you breathed "but at least it's all behind us."

"yeah, thank goodness." he agreed.

"what was it you were saying before we got arrested?" you asked innocently.

"um- I was saying, i... wonder whatever happened to giselle and anton! surely there's some more information on them now that anton survived the duel." he changed the topic.

"you're right!" you exclaimed, rushing to your computer to google their names.

"it says here that the king passed away from a heart attack due to shock and anton inherited the throne, but he didn't want it so he passed it onto giselle. he went on to become a successful writer and giselle married a common man named mark, they had a son and a daughter named... eunseok and y/n!"

"you think they're sister-mistresses?" eunseok joked.

"gross. anyways, anton's most famous book is called across centuries and it's about a pair of lovers that time traveled." you gasped.

"well that definitely can't be about us, we're far from lovers." he laughed.

"right..." you agreed quietly.

"well, I guess that now that we're out of the medieval period, I can get out of your hair." eunseok began, standing up.

"wait." you spoke up suddenly. if giselle and anton could confess in front of an entire kingdom, than i can confess to a single guy.

"eunseok, i..." you began.

fuck. I can't bring myself to finish my sentence.

"you what?" he asked.

"I'm..."

"are you alright?"

"no! yes-i mean no?" you sputtered.

"i'm gonna go let you rest." he nodded, slowly backing away.

"I love you! I'm in love with you. please-please don't leave yet." you practically begged.

eunseok's jaw fell to the floor.

"I don't know how or when I started feeling this way, and I get it if you don't feel the same way but I had to tell you. I'm-"

you were interrupted by eunseok's lips crashing onto yours, and for once you didn't mind the interruption.

"will you be mine, lady y/n?" he asked dramatically, shortly after you two parted from the kiss.

"why yes, my knight in shining armor." you laughed.

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