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ha-rinrin · 3 months ago

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Drunk Confessions

summary: Your best friend Jinx convinces you to accompany her to a frat party—what’s the worst that could happen?

word count: 8.8k

pairing: Jinx x fem!reader

warning: smut

note: I wrote this at 2am if its bad im deeply sorry my eyes were closing as I wrote it

masterlist

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the window of Jinx’s dorm, casting a cozy glow over the beautifully chaotic space. Posters of her favorite bands were plastered everywhere, and her desk? A vibrant mess of colorful sketches and paint tubes spilling over. The air carried a faintly sweet scent, probably from whatever concoction she’d been whipping up in the kitchen. You and Jinx lounged on her bed, tangled in a heap of blankets and pillows, just enjoying the rare calm of a lazy afternoon. Her body so close to yours made you nervous, the palm of your hands becoming sweaty.

“You’re coming with me, right?” Jinx asked, her eyes practically sparkling as she scrolled through her phone, on a mission to find every detail about the frat party that night, who was going, where it was, she was going as far as to search if there was a specific dress code and “how to dress for a party” on wikihow. She leaned in closer, her blue hair brushing against your arm, sending a little jolt of energy through you.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I don’t know, Jinx. Frat parties can get pretty… you know, overwhelming. What if things get out of control, you know that I'm not an extrovert and what if I end up making things awkward?. what if I end up in a corner and everyone thinks “look at this weirdo standing by the wall”, or-?”

She looked at you as if she were one word away from calling a psych ward. “Okay, now stop right there. Where’s your university student spirit?” she asked, her tone playful but firm. She always had this unique way of calming you down, even if it was a little unconventional. “Come on!” she urged, throwing her hands up dramatically, as if you were being ridiculous. “I’m not asking you to jump into a pit of fire! It’s just a party—music, dancing, and a whole lot of fun! Plus, it wouldn’t be the same without my best friend there.”

Even when you were freaking out, you couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. “You know I’m not exactly the ‘party’ type. I’m way more into our movie marathons and snack fests. Those are fun too,” you said with a sweet smile.

But this will be different! Just picture it—it’ll be just like in the movies! Music pumping, everyone dancing like nobody’s watching, and us stirring up some delightful chaos as always!” Jinx grinned, leaning in, her eyes wide with mischief. “Come on, it’ll be a blast! We’re a team, remember? We can handle anything together!”

“Delightful chaos? Is that your new way of saying ‘let’s get kicked out’?” you teased, raising an eyebrow, your lips curving into a smirk.

“Maybe just a little,” she admitted, biting her lip to stifle a laugh. “But think about it! This is our chance to break out of our comfort zones. Besides, I can’t do this without my ride-or-die! We’ll stick together, and I’ll keep you safe. Mostly.”

You rolled your eyes, your heart warming at her enthusiasm. “I don’t know, Jinx. What if it gets too wild? I’m not exactly a social butterfly here, you are the one who takes that role.”

“That’s exactly why I need you!” she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over. “You balance me out! And who knows? You might actually have fun! Plus, what if I end up in a food fight again? I’ll need you there to help me dodge flying pizza!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that ridiculous image. “That was one time!”

“Exactly! And it was the best night ever!” Jinx said, her enthusiasm infectious. “You’ll totally regret it if you don’t come. Just think of all the crazy stories we could tell! Pretty please? I really want my best friend by my side!”

You looked at her, taking in how sincere she was, hope shining in her eyes. “Fine, but only if you promise not to get us kicked out and staying by my side.”

“Deal!” she exclaimed, her grin stretching wide as she pulled you into a quick hug that felt warm and comforting. “You’re not going to regret this! Now, let’s get ready!”

As she jumped off the bed and started rifling through her closet, you couldn’t help but smile at her infectious excitement. Maybe stepping out of your comfort zone wouldn’t be so bad, especially with Jinx by your side.

As you both stepped out of her dorm, the energy crackled between you. Jinx practically skipped, her excitement infectious as she led you down the bustling streets toward the frat house. The music thumped louder with each step, pulling you closer to the chaotic glow of string lights, neon paint, and a wild swarm of partygoers.

“Jinx! Over here!” called a girl with a bright green streak in her hair, a friend of Jinx’s you recognized from campus but had never spoken to before. She was surrounded by others from Jinx's circle, each one more eccentric than the last. They erupted into cheers upon seeing her, welcoming her with quick hugs and high-fives.

“Hey, you all made it!” Jinx cheered, bouncing over to them. With a proud grin, she introduced you, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you gave a nervous wave. Her friends greeted you warmly, instantly pulling you into their circle and helping you feel more at ease in the lively, unfamiliar environment.

You stood there, adjusting to the crowded atmosphere, but Jinx’s friends made it easier. They were loud and full of life, radiating the same chaotic energy that Jinx thrived on. Each one had a unique style: mismatched patterns, brightly colored hair, and bold makeup you wouldn’t expect to see in a classroom. It felt like Jinx had magnetized a group of people as wild and vibrant as she was.

“Finally dragged you out, huh?” said a tall girl with neon blue lipstick, winking as she handed you a plastic cup. “It takes a lot to get someone out of their cocoon, but Jinx is persistent.” She nudged Jinx playfully, who rolled her eyes with a grin.

“Trust me, this is a rare occurrence,” Jinx said, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “But I had to bring my best friend into the madness at least once, right?”

Her words warmed you, even though you could feel her friends’ curious gazes on you. You took a sip from the cup, feeling the buzz of Jinx’s excitement wrap around you like a blanket.

As the night went on, Jinx’s group chatted animatedly, and every so often, you caught her glancing over to check on you, her hand brushing against your arm as she leaned in to hear your responses. Each time her skin touched yours, an unmistakable spark ignited, even if it was just a fleeting connection.

As the night deepened, Jinx remained the life of the party, her laughter ringing out above the pulsing music. Each time she returned to your side, she held a new drink—colorful concoctions that seemed to amplify her energy even more.

“You have to try this one! It’s delicious!” she exclaimed while holding up a vibrant pink cocktail, her grin widening as she leaned in closer.

You took a cautious sip; the sweetness almost masked the alcohol. “Okay, this one’s not bad,” you admitted, your smile growing as you handed it back. You watched her down a good portion of it, her eyes sparkling with delight.

With each drink, Jinx became even more animated. She danced around you, tugging you along as she pulled her friends into playful conversations. The rosy hue in her cheeks deepened, and a slight slur in her words made her even more charming.

“Are you having fun?” she shouted, swaying to the beat. Her laughter bubbled up, contagious in its joy. “I mean, like, really having fun?”

“I’m getting there!” you replied, feeling the warmth of her spirit wrap around you.

As the night wore on, you noticed her friends keeping a closer eye on her, subtly guiding her back when she drifted too far into the crowd. Jinx, however, seemed blissfully unaware, caught up in her whirlwind of excitement. She had just finished another drink—a bright green one.

“Check this out!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with mischief as she took a big gulp. “This is the best!”

After downing the drink, she stumbled slightly, catching herself against your shoulder with a laugh. “Oops! I think I’m getting a little tipsy,” she admitted, her voice a mix of excitement and amusement.

“Just a little?” you teased, chuckling as you steadied her.

“This is what parties are all about, right? Just let go and have fun!” she answered.

You watched her with a mix of affection and concern as she took another drink from a passing friend, her laughter growing more exuberant with each sip. Despite her slight wobble, there was a light in her eyes that seemed to shine brighter, her joy infectious.

“Promise me you’ll stay close?” she asked, her expression earnest as she looked at you with those bright, swirling purple eyes.

“Always,” you replied, squeezing her hand reassuringly, warmth blooming in your chest at the sincerity in her gaze.

After another round, she returned to your side, clutching a neon blue drink.

“Maybe we should slow it down a bit, huh?” you suggested, attempting to steer her away from the colorful drinks.

“Slow down? Never!” she exclaimed, then leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But seriously, you’re the best. I love having you here.”

You felt your heart flutter, caught off guard by the sincerity in her gaze. “I love being here with you, too,” you replied, your voice softening as you looked into her eyes.

She smiled, the warmth of the moment hanging in the air, but instead of saying more, you both swayed gently to the music, her shoulder brushing against yours, sending little sparks up your arm.

As the party continued, Jinx’s energy ebbed and flowed. She’d lose herself in dance, twirling around before suddenly collapsing against you, breathless and giggling. “I’m definitely tipsy now,” she confessed, finally self-aware, her cheeks flushed and her smile wide. “But you’re still here.”

“Of course I am,” you assured her, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. It felt natural, as if you were meant to be this close.

“Good,” she murmured, resting her head against your shoulder. The moment felt intimate, surrounded by chaos yet cocooned in your own little world.

You wanted to say something more, to bridge the gap between friendship and something deeper. But the thought of her waking up tomorrow, her mind clearer and possibly regretting this moment, held you back. Instead, you focused on the way her laughter resonated in your chest.

As she tilted her head up, her eyes gleaming under the colored lights, you noticed the slight wobble in her posture. “Hey,” she said, mischief dancing in her voice. “You’re really special, you know that? Like… you get me.”

You smiled softly, your heart racing. “Thanks, Jinx. You’re pretty special too.”

Without warning, she leaned in, her breath warm against your skin. In that fleeting moment, you felt her lips brush against yours—soft and tentative. But just as quickly, you pulled away, a wave of uncertainty washing over you. Confusion crossed her features, and you could see the glimmer of disappointment in her eyes.

“Why didn't you kiss me back?”

You could see the heaviness in her gaze, a hint of sadness creeping in.

“Jinx…” You didn't even know what to say to her, so you went for the classic and safe option. “Let’s get you some water, alright?” you said gently, trying to guide her toward the kitchen.

“I like you, okay?” she finally blurted out, her voice earnest, cutting through the noise of the party.

Your heart raced, the weight of her words hanging in the air between you. “Jinx, I—”

“Wait!” she interrupted, her eyes wide with determination. “I know it sounds crazy, but you make me feel… I don’t know, like I can just be myself.”

You took a breath, trying to process everything. “You’re really drunk right now. This isn’t the best time to have this conversation,” you said, your voice soft yet firm.

“Maybe,” she admitted, her expression shifting as she leaned closer, her breath warm against your face. “But it’s true. You get me in a way no one else does.”

The sincerity in her gaze made your chest tighten. “Jinx, I care about you. But you have to know that it’s the drinks talking right now. You might not even remember this tomorrow.”

“Who cares about tomorrow?” she shot back, frustration creeping into her tone. “Right now, I want you to know how I feel.”

You could feel the tension building, the unspoken feelings that had always lingered just beneath the surface. “It’s complicated, Jinx. I don’t want to ruin what we have,” you said, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening.

“Then don’t!” she pleaded, her voice dropping to a whisper as she stepped closer, her presence intoxicating. “Just let me have this moment. Please.”

“Jinx—,” you said, your heart pounding. “We need to get you home. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Home? What’s so great about that?” she asked, her expression faltering. “I just want to be here with you, right now.”

“Being here with you is amazing, but I care about you too much to let this go too far when you’re like this,” you said gently, trying to balance her feelings with your concern.

“Why can't you just let go for one night? We’ll deal with the aftermath in the morning,” she tried to convince you, her frustration boiling beneath the surface.

As her words settled in, you knew you had to keep her safe. “Come on, Jinx. Let’s get you home. You need water, not more drinks,” you said, guiding her gently toward the door.

With each step, you felt the weight of her lingering gaze on your back, the unspoken words hanging in the air. You knew she wouldn’t remember everything in the morning, and that was both a relief and a burden.

As you pulled her out of the chaotic house and into the cool night air, you felt her lean into you, exhaustion finally taking over. “You’re the best, you know that?” she mumbled, her voice slurred yet sincere. “I really appreciate you being here. Even if… you don’t really like me back.”

Her words stung, and you turned to face her, feeling the ache of unfulfilled possibilities. “It’s not that I don’t like you, Jinx. It’s just… complicated.”

She looked up at you, her eyes hazy yet searching. “Can we talk about this tomorrow? When I’m sober?”

You shook your head softly, trying to keep the moment light despite the heaviness in your chest. “Let’s just focus on getting you home for tonight, okay?”

She nodded, her disappointment palpable. As you walked together, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you, a bond strengthened yet fraught with unspoken truths.

As you stepped into Jinx’s dorm, you immediately took action.

“Alright, let’s get you settled,” you said, gently guiding her toward the couch. Jinx plopped down, her head drooping slightly as she leaned back against the cushions. You quickly grabbed a water bottle from her desk, unscrewing the cap and holding it up to her lips.

“Drink up,” you instructed, watching as she took small sips, her eyes fluttering as she fought to stay awake.

“Thank you, you’re the best,” she mumbled, a lazy smile spreading across her face.

Once she had finished the water, you decided to help her get ready for bed. “I’ll be right back,” you said, heading toward her closet. You rummaged through her clothes until you found a pair of soft pajamas—a comfy, oversized shirt and matching shorts.

When you returned, though, you found Jinx curled up on the couch, her breathing even and soft, the energy from earlier dissipating into peaceful slumber. Your heart swelled with affection as you watched her for a moment, her colorful hair sprawled out around her like a halo.

“Guess I’m not needed after all,” you murmured to yourself, a smile tugging at your lips. But the thought of leaving her on the couch didn’t sit well with you. She needed a proper place to sleep.

With a careful determination, you knelt beside her. “Hey, Jinx,” you said gently, brushing a few stray hairs from her face. “Time to move to your bed.”

There was no response. She just shifted slightly, a soft sigh escaping her lips. You took a deep breath, wrapping your arms around her and lifting her up with surprising ease. Her weight was familiar and comforting, and you could feel the warmth radiating from her as you cradled her against your chest.

“Here we go,” you whispered, navigating the small room with care. You stepped over her scattered shoes and clothes, your heart racing as you carried her toward the bed.

As you laid her down, Jinx stirred slightly but didn’t fully wake, a sleepy smile gracing her lips as she nestled deeper into the blankets. You quickly slipped the pajamas onto her, careful not to jostle her too much.

“Goodnight, Jinx,” you whispered, brushing a soft kiss against her forehead. She sighed contentedly, and for a moment, you stood there, watching her peaceful form.

Feeling a rush of warmth, you decided to settle in on the edge of her bed, the soft sheets inviting. As you sat there, your mind wandered, replaying the night’s events—the laughter, the dancing, the momentary brush of her lips against yours.

You couldn’t shake the feeling of what she had said earlier, the sincerity of her words hanging in the air. It felt like a turning point, one that you hoped tomorrow would help clarify.

Eventually, fatigue began to pull at your eyelids. You leaned back against the headboard, listening to her gentle breathing as you drifted into a light sleep, the room filled with the comforting glow of string lights. before you even knew it, you were fast asleep.

The soft light of morning crept through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stirred awake, the events of the night still fresh in your mind. Glancing over at Jinx, you smiled softly at the sight of her peacefully sleeping, her colorful hair spilling across the pillows.

Careful not to wake her, you quietly slipped out of bed, stretching a little as you got to your feet. You padded over to the small bedside table, a little nightstand with a drawer that seemed to hold everything from old textbooks to stray hair ties. You opened the drawer and rummaged around until you found a bottle of aspirin.

After grabbing the bottle, you filled a glass with water from her desk, setting it gently on the nightstand next to the aspirin. You paused for a moment, glancing back at Jinx, who was still nestled under the covers, a serene expression on her face.

“Just in case you need it,” you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. You tiptoed out of the room, making your way to the small kitchen area in her dorm.

Once there, you decided to make breakfast. The scent of coffee filled the air as you started brewing a fresh pot. You rummaged through her cabinets, pulling out some eggs and bread for toast. Cooking felt oddly calming, and the rhythmic motions of cracking eggs and toasting bread helped clear your mind.

As you worked, thoughts of Jinx floated through your mind—her laughter, the way she lit up the room, and the unexpected confession from the night before. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation mixed with anxiety about how she would feel in the morning.

The scent of coffee filled the air as you worked, the rhythmic motions of cracking eggs and toasting bread helping clear your mind. Suddenly, the sound of soft footsteps approached, and you turned to see Jinx walking into the kitchen, her hair tousled and her eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you said, a smile spreading across your face.

She rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn as she leaned against the doorframe. “What time is it?” she mumbled, still half-lost in her dreams.

“Late enough for breakfast,” you replied, flipping a slice of toast. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

Jinx blinked a few times, her expression slowly shifting from drowsy confusion to delight. “You’re the best! I can’t believe you made breakfast. What are you cooking?”

“Just some eggs and toast,” you said, pouring her a cup of coffee and handing it to her. “Nothing fancy, but I hope it’ll help with your hangover.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she groaned, taking a sip and making a face at the taste. “Is that black coffee? You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue.”

You chuckled, leaning against the counter as you watched her. “I can always add cream and sugar if you’d like.”

She waved a hand dismissively, already turning her attention to the toast popping up from the toaster. “Nah, I’ll take it strong. What’s life without a little bitterness, right?”

“Speaking of bitterness,” you began, your voice light as you tried to gauge her mood, “how are you feeling this morning?”

Jinx leaned against the counter, a playful smirk on her lips. “Like I’ve been run over by a truck. But I’d say it was worth it for last night. You kept me from doing anything too crazy, right?”

“Just trying to look out for you,” you said, your heart racing slightly at the memory of her words from the night before. “But you were definitely having fun.”

Her smile faltered just a bit, and you could see the wheels turning in her mind. “Yeah… about that.”

You raised an eyebrow, bracing yourself for what she might say next. “What about it?”

Jinx glanced down at her coffee, biting her lip. “I kind of remember some things. Like… maybe telling you you’re special?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “You said a few things, yeah.”

“Did I embarrass myself?” she asked, looking up at you with those bright, swirling eyes, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity flickering in them.

“Not really,” you assured her, trying to keep your tone light. “You just expressed some feelings.”

She blinked, the weight of your words hanging between you. “Feelings?” she echoed softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Yeah, feelings,” you said, your heart racing as you fought the urge to say more. “But maybe we should focus on breakfast first?”

“Right, breakfast.” Jinx nodded, but you could see that her mind was still on the night before. As you both stood there, the air thick with unspoken words, you hoped she’d be ready to talk about it again soon.

You turned back to the stove, flipping the eggs with practiced ease. “So, what do you think? Scrambled or sunny-side up?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Scrambled, definitely. Can’t handle any more surprises this morning,” she replied, a hint of a smile creeping back onto her lips.

With the eggs cooking, you let the comfortable silence settle between you, stealing glances at Jinx as she took another sip of her coffee. Her gaze drifted toward the window, the sunlight illuminating the room in warm hues.

“Last night was… fun,” Jinx said finally, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, but you could hear the hint of vulnerability underneath. “I just—I hope I didn’t say anything too crazy.”

You chuckled lightly, trying to ease her worries. “You were just being you, Jinx. It was kind of nice, actually. You don’t have to worry about what you said.”

She turned to you, her eyes searching your face for reassurance. “But you know I can get a little… reckless when I drink. I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“It wasn’t awkward,” you reassured her, your heart racing again as the memory of her words flashed through your mind—the way she had looked at you, the closeness you had shared. “You just told me you think I’m special. It was sweet.”

“Sweet, huh?” Jinx replied, her lips quirking up in a teasing grin. “And what exactly does that mean? Are we talking ‘special friend’ sweet, or ‘I think you’re cute’ sweet?”

You hesitated, the weight of her gaze making it hard to form the words. “It could mean a bit of both,” you said cautiously. “But it depends on how you feel this morning.”

Her expression shifted, a mix of playfulness and genuine curiosity. “What if I told you I remembered a little more? Like… that kiss?”

You turned to face her fully, heart pounding. “You remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” she said, her tone teasing yet edged with something deeper. “I also remember how you didn’t really return it. But, uh, I’m sorry; it kinda slipped.”

You could feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, and your pulse quickened at her admission. “It’s not that I didn’t want to,” you stumbled over your words, scrambling for an explanation. “I just—”

“Just what?” she prompted, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Were you scared of my breath? It was probably awful.”

“No! It wasn’t that!” You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing slightly as you caught her playful grin. “I just didn’t want to make things weird.”

“Aw, so you were thinking of my feelings,” she teased, leaning closer, her expression shifting as she tried to gauge your seriousness. “But, like, what do you think about it now? I mean, is it still weird?”

You took a deep breath, trying to navigate the sudden shift in the conversation. “I think it was a moment,” you said slowly. “And it felt… nice. But I don’t want to rush into anything. Especially since you were—”

“Drunk?” she interrupted, a bit of uncertainty creeping into her playful demeanor. “Yeah, I get that. But maybe it was a bit more than just that, you know?”

Your heart raced as you met her gaze, feeling the weight of her words. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe there’s something there that we haven’t really explored yet,” she said softly, her voice losing its playful edge. “Like, between us.”

You swallowed hard, the implications hanging thick in the air. “Are you saying you want to explore it?”

Jinx hesitated, the teasing glint in her eyes dimming slightly as she shifted her weight, looking almost vulnerable. “I don’t know. I’m scared, honestly. I don’t want to mess up what we have.”

“Neither do I,” you replied earnestly, wanting to bridge the gap between you. “But if we don’t talk about it, we’ll never know.”

“True,” she said, biting her lip as she considered your words. “And you know me—I’m not great with talking about feelings. They’re just… there. And sometimes they scare me.”

“I get it,” you said, trying to offer her a reassuring smile. “Feelings can be confusing, especially with everything that happened last night.”

“Yeah, and you’d think I’d be used to it by now,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “But I guess I’m just not as brave as I pretend to be.”

You felt a surge of empathy for her, knowing how hard it could be to voice what lay beneath the surface. “It’s okay to be scared, Jinx. We can figure this out together.”

She looked at you, her expression softening. “Together sounds nice,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But, like, what does that even mean? Do we just hang out more, or…?”

“I think it means being honest with each other,” you suggested, feeling the weight of the conversation start to settle into something more hopeful. “Maybe we take things slow and see where it goes?”

“Slow, huh? You mean like taking it easy, not like a rollercoaster ride?” she replied, a teasing tone creeping back into her voice. “Because you know I’m all for the thrill, but this feels different.”

You chuckled lightly, appreciating her humor amidst the serious talk. “Exactly. No rollercoasters. Just… us. Hanging out, having fun. And if things happen, then they happen.”

“Okay, I can work with that,” Jinx said, her smile returning, though there was still a hint of apprehension in her eyes. “But what if I get too reckless again? You might end up in a weird position where you have to deal with my chaos.”

“Chaos is kind of your specialty,” you said, your heart fluttering at the thought of her quirks. “And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Her laughter filled the kitchen, lightening the air between you. “You’re seriously the best. I mean, how did I get so lucky to have you around?”

You couldn’t help but grin back at her, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “I could say the same about you. You keep things interesting.”

She stepped closer, her playful demeanor shifting again as she looked into your eyes, the laughter lingering in the air between you like a sweet melody. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” you replied, your heart racing at the intensity of her gaze. “You make everything more fun. More... alive.”

A flicker of vulnerability passed through her eyes, and you could sense the shift in the atmosphere. The teasing edges of the conversation softened, replaced by something deeper, something that had been simmering beneath the surface for a while now.

“Do you think,” she started, her voice barely above a whisper, “that we could… maybe try to be more than friends?”

The question hung in the air, and your heart raced in response. “I’d like that,” you said, the words spilling out before you could second-guess yourself. “I really would.”

Jinx stepped even closer, her breath warm against your skin. “Then maybe we should just go for it,” she suggested, her eyes sparkling with mischief yet grounded with sincerity.

“Go for it?” you echoed, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Yeah. Like… a kiss. Just to see how it feels, you know?” she said, her voice teasing but her expression earnest.

“Okay, but if we’re doing this, I want to make sure it’s not just a spur-of-the-moment thing.” You took a step closer, feeling the space between you disappear. “I want it to mean something.”

Jinx nodded, her eyes locked onto yours, the playful edge returning just a touch. “I’m all for meaningful moments. Just don’t blame me if it ends up being a little chaotic.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

With that, Jinx leaned in, her gaze flickering to your lips before meeting your eyes again, searching for confirmation. You felt your breath hitch as the moment stretched between you, filled with unspoken words and uncharted territory.

Then, as if the world faded away, you closed the distance. Her lips brushed against yours softly, tentative at first, sending a rush of warmth through you. It was gentle yet electric, a perfect blend of sweetness and a hint of the wildness that defined Jinx.

As you kissed, it felt like everything else disappeared—the kitchen, the smell of breakfast, the morning light filtering through the curtains. It was just the two of you, suspended in a moment that felt both familiar and entirely new.

Just as you began to pull away, Jinx grabbed the back of your neck, deepening the kiss, her lips moving against yours with a newfound urgency. The softness of her kiss quickly transformed into something more passionate, igniting a fire within you that sent shivers down your spine.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the heat radiating from her body. Jinx responded by pressing herself against you, her hands weaving into your hair as she tilted her head, deepening the kiss even further. The world outside faded into oblivion as you lost yourselves in the moment, the taste of her lips intoxicating, each brush igniting sparks of electricity between you.

The kiss grew more fervent, each movement becoming bolder, more desperate. You felt her heart racing against your chest, mirroring your own excitement. She pulled you in, and you could feel the playful chaos she thrived on, but it was paired with a tenderness that made your heart race.

“Wow,” Jinx breathed against your lips, her eyes sparkling as she pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, a teasing smile playing on her mouth. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted, breathless. Your heart was pounding, and the warmth spreading through your body felt electrifying.

Jinx leaned in again, this time capturing your lips with a fierceness that made your head spin. She pressed you against the counter, her body fitting against yours perfectly, igniting every nerve ending in a way that made you forget everything but her. You could feel her smile against your mouth as she pulled you in deeper, her fingers dancing down your sides.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you asked between heated kisses, the pulse of adrenaline making your heart race even faster.

“More than okay,” she murmured, her voice low and sultry as she nipped at your lower lip, sending a jolt through you. “I’ve wanted this for a while.”

With that, the air thickened with desire, the playful banter fading as you both surrendered to the moment. Jinx's hands explored your back, pulling you even closer as you kissed her back with equal intensity. It was a dance of chaos and connection, both of you losing yourselves in the rhythm of your lips moving together.

As you kissed, you became aware of the world around you again—sounds of the eggs sizzling on the stove, the coffee still brewing, the gentle hum of life outside—but none of it mattered. It was just you and Jinx, tangled up in each other’s arms, feeling the rush of something new and thrilling.

“Wait,” you said suddenly, pulling back, breathless. “What if we burn the toast?”

Jinx laughed, a bright sound that lit up the kitchen even more than the morning sun. “Oh, right! Priorities!” She reluctantly stepped back, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “But I wouldn’t mind some toast and maybe a side of more kisses later?”

You grinned, heart still racing from both the kiss and her playful tone. “Deal. But for now, let’s save breakfast before it turns into a charred mess.”

With a shared laugh, you turned back to the stove, stealing glances at each other as the air buzzed with a new energy. You couldn’t help but feel like everything had changed in that kitchen, and you were both excited to see where this new path would lead.

The soft morning light spilled into Jinx's room, painting everything in warm hues as you snuggled under the cozy blankets. You were nestled against Jinx, who had sprawled out comfortably beside you after a chaotic yet delicious breakfast. Her hair was a wild mess, a testament to the way she rolled out of bed in her usual chaotic style, and you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable she looked.

With a dramatic sigh, she flopped back down, burying her head between your breasts, her voice muffled as she said, “I like this relationship benefit.”

You felt your heart race, a warm flush creeping up your cheeks. “Oh really?” you replied, your fingers gently running through her hair. “What else do you like?”

“Mmm, definitely the cuddles,” she sighed contentedly, her breath warm against your skin. “But mostly this.” She wiggled a little closer, clearly enjoying the closeness.

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around her, pulling her even tighter against you. “You’re just using me for cuddles, huh?”

“Guilty as charged,” she said, lifting her head to flash you a cheeky grin. “But can you blame me? You’re the best pillow ever.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face betrayed you. “A pillow? Really?”

“Yeah, the best kind—soft and warm,” she teased, leaning in to nuzzle you again. “And I can’t get enough of you right now.”

You felt a flutter in your chest at her words, heart swelling with affection. “I could get used to this,” you admitted, pulling her in closer, both of you sinking deeper into the sheets.

“Me too,” she said softly, her voice a little more serious now. “You’re like the perfect chaos to my perfectly chaotic life.”

“Perfectly chaotic, huh? I like the sound of that,” you replied, grinning at her.

Jinx giggled, but her laughter faded as she studied your face, her gaze lingering on your lips. You felt a spark of anticipation in the air, a delicious tension that made your heart race.

“Hey,” she murmured, her voice low, “can I…?”

You didn’t need to answer. In one smooth motion, Jinx closed the space between you, capturing your lips in a soft, tentative kiss. The world outside faded away as you melted into the moment, your fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer.

Her lips were warm and inviting, and you felt a rush of exhilaration as the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. Jinx sighed against your mouth, the sound sending shivers down your spine. She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, and you could taste the remnants of breakfast lingering on her.

As you both finally pulled away, breathless and a little dazed, Jinx rested her forehead against yours, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, does this count as a benefit?”

You chuckled, still feeling the warmth of her lips on yours. “I think it counts as a pretty great benefit,” you replied, your heart swelling with joy.

“Good,” she said with a sly smile, “because I plan on taking full advantage of it.”

You laughed again, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. You lay there, lost in each other’s embrace, knowing that this—Jinx, the cuddles, the kisses—was exactly where you belonged.

You couldn't help but feel a mischievous grin spread across your face. “I might need to show you just how much I like these benefits, too,” you teased, leaning in closer.

Jinx’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her playful energy radiating off her. “Oh? I’d love to see what you have in mind,” she said, her voice dropping to that breathy tone that sent heat rushing through you.

Before you could overthink it, you leaned in, capturing her lips again. This kiss was deeper, more urgent, as if you were both trying to convey everything you felt in that moment. You pulled her closer, fingers tracing down her side as you savored the sweet taste of her.

Jinx responded eagerly, her hands threading into your hair, pulling you in as if she wanted to become one with you. You could feel the rush of passion growing between you, each kiss igniting a spark that left you both breathless.

As the kiss deepened, you found yourself shifting lower, your lips trailing from her mouth down to her neck, planting soft kisses along her skin. Jinx shivered beneath your touch, her breaths coming in quick gasps

as you continued your descent, each kiss eliciting a sweet sound from her lips. You reveled in the way she reacted, her body responding eagerly to your every move.

“Wow,” she breathed, her voice filled with a mixture of surprise and delight. “You’re really good at this, aren’t you?”

You smirked against her skin, relishing the way she melted under your touch. “Just trying to show you how much I appreciate our little relationship benefits,” you replied playfully, your lips brushing against her collarbone.

“More, please,” Jinx urged, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she pulled you back for another kiss, this one even more heated than before. Her hands roamed down your back, fingers dancing over your skin, igniting a fire within you that you could hardly contain.

With renewed determination, you resumed your exploration, trailing kisses down her torso, pausing to admire her beauty. Each kiss left a lingering warmth, and you could feel her pulse quicken beneath your lips.

“Hey, don’t forget about me up here,” Jinx teased breathlessly, her playful tone mingling with the seriousness of the moment. You looked up at her, grinning at the way her cheeks flushed a deeper shade.

“Oh, I could never forget about you,” you replied, your voice low and teasing as you moved back up to capture her lips again.

She pulled you closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly, as if you were made for this. The kiss deepened once more, the world around you fading away as you lost yourselves in each other.

After a few blissful moments, you pulled away slightly, resting your forehead against hers. “I could get used to this,” you murmured, your breath mingling with hers.

Jinx’s gaze softened, and she smiled, a genuine warmth filling her eyes. “Me too. It feels… right, you know?”

You nodded, the weight of her words settling over you like a cozy blanket. “Yeah, it really does.”

With a playful smirk, you let your fingers trail down to her thighs, feeling the softness of her skin. “But I think I still have some benefits to explore,” you said, looking up at her with a teasing glint in your eye.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Jinx challenged, her voice laced with playful urgency. “Get to it!”

With a laugh, you lowered your head once more, ready to discover just how far this delightful chaos could take you both. The room was filled with soft laughter, warmth, and the promise of so many more sweet moments together.

You pressed your lips to her inner thigh, feeling the warmth radiate from her skin. Jinx gasped softly, her body responding eagerly to your touch, and you smiled against her, savoring the thrill of the moment.

“Is this what you meant by ‘benefits’?” you teased, your voice low and playful as you continued your trail of kisses.

“Definitely,” she breathed, her fingers tangling in your hair as she held you close. “But I might need a little more encouragement.”

With a playful glint in your eye, you shifted lower, planting kisses along the inside of her thigh, slowly building the anticipation. Jinx squirmed beneath you, her breath hitching as you took your time, enjoying every second of your exploration.

“You’re such a tease,” she murmured, half-laughing, half-pleading.

“Only because you love it,” you shot back, glancing up at her with a mischievous grin.

“Guilty,” she admitted, her voice a mix of sincerity and playful defiance.

Encouraged by her words, you continued your journey, your kisses trailing ever closer, teasingly brushing against the edge of her shorts. Jinx’s breaths quickened, the tension in the air crackling with electricity.

“Please,” she whispered, her eyes pleading, and that single word ignited a fire within you. You knew exactly what she wanted, and you were more than willing to give it to her.

You shifted your attention, pressing a soft kiss on the waistband of her shorts before slowly pulling back to look into her eyes. “Are you sure?” you asked, wanting to make sure she was comfortable.

“More than sure,” she replied, her voice firm yet filled with an undeniable sweetness.

With a smile of affirmation you discarded her shorts along with her underwear, you pressed your lips against her clit, and Jinx gasped, her body arching towards you as you continued your teasing exploration, sucking, twirling her bundle of nerves with your tongue. Each kiss sent shivers through her, and you felt empowered by the effect you had on her.

“God, you’re incredible,” she breathed, her fingers tightening in your hair as you took your time, cherishing every moment, every reaction.

You decided to add your fingers into the mix, thrusting them inside of her, and a long, soft moan escaped her lips. Jinx’s body responded eagerly, arching toward you as if craving more. You could feel the warmth radiating from her, the way she melted beneath your touch igniting a rush of exhilaration within you.

“Just like that,” she gasped, her fingers still tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if she wanted you to be a part of her completely. The urgency in her voice made your heart race, and you reveled in the control you had over her pleasure.

“Is this what you wanted?” you teased, your breath warm against her skin as you began to move your fingers in a steady rhythm, curling them just right. Each thrust brought forth another wave of pleasure, another gasp that made you want to smile.

“Yes! Just like that!” Jinx breathed, her voice trembling with need. You could see the way her body reacted, how she squirmed and writhed beneath you, and it only encouraged you to go further.

You leaned down, placing gentle kisses along her thigh, reminding her of the connection you shared as you continued to tease and explore her. Every movement was deliberate, designed to drive her wild, to make her forget everything else but the sensation of being with you in that moment.

“God, I can’t get enough of you,” you murmured against her skin, feeling the heat of her body against your lips. Jinx’s eyes sparkled with mischief and desire, and you could tell she was close.

“Don’t stop, please!” she urged, her voice a mix of desperation and delight. You quickened your pace, your fingers moving with newfound urgency as you watched her face, captivated by the way her pleasure built higher and higher.

“Let go for me,” you encouraged softly, feeling the tension in her body as it coiled tighter. The room was filled with the sounds of her gasps and the rhythm of your movements, creating a beautiful melody that echoed the intensity of the moment.

As Jinx finally surrendered to the wave of pleasure, you felt a rush of triumph wash over you. In that blissful moment, everything else faded away, and all that remained was the two of you, lost in your own little world.

Jinx's body tensed and then relaxed in a series of delightful shudders. You watched in awe as her expression transformed, a mix of bliss and vulnerability that made your heart swell. You slowed your movements, wanting her to savor every lingering moment, every aftershock of ecstasy.

“Wow,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering open, filled with a soft glow. “You really know how to treat a girl right.”

You chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. “I just aim to please,” you replied playfully, your heart racing at the intimate connection you had just shared.

Jinx’s smile was radiant, and she pulled you closer, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that sent warmth through your entire body. “You definitely succeeded,” she whispered against your mouth, her fingers tracing the outline of your jaw.

As you kissed her, the world around you faded again, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you both like a warm embrace. The taste of her lingered on your lips, sweet and intoxicating, fueling the spark of desire that still flickered between you.

“Can I return the favor?” she asked, her voice playful but with an underlying sincerity that sent a thrill through you.

You felt your cheeks heat at the suggestion, but you nodded eagerly. “Only if you want to,” you replied, your heart racing at the thought of her taking charge.

“Trust me, I do,” Jinx said, her grin wide and mischievous. She shifted to position herself above you, a look of determination in her eyes that made your breath hitch.

As she settled between your legs, you couldn’t help but admire her confidence. Jinx leaned down, planting soft kisses along your body, savoring every inch of your skin. Each touch felt electric, igniting your senses and leaving you craving more.

“Just relax,” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin. You nodded, allowing her to take the lead, your heart racing in anticipation of what was to come.

The sensation of her lips trailing lower sent shivers through you, and you felt yourself sinking deeper into the sheets, completely at her mercy. Every kiss was filled with love and passion, a reminder of the connection you had forged in that cozy bed.

Jinx paused, looking up at you with a playful sparkle in her eyes. “You ready?” she asked, her voice low and sultry.

You nodded, breathless with excitement. “Always,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

With that, she continued her descent, and you felt the world around you fade away again as she focused her attention on you, filling the room with shared laughter, love, and warmth that made everything feel just right.

With a sly smile, Jinx shifted her focus, her lips dancing across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Each kiss sent ripples of anticipation through you, drawing soft gasps from your lips. You couldn’t help but arch your back slightly, urging her on, lost in the intoxicating sensations.

Jinx’s laughter echoed softly in the room as she reveled in the effect she had on you. “You’re so cute when you get all flustered,” she teased, looking up at you with those bright, playful eyes that held a hint of mischief.

“Only because you make it impossible to stay calm,” you replied, your voice breathless, heart racing as you felt her warmth envelop you.

She smirked, leaning in closer, her breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. “Good,” she whispered, before pressing a soft kiss against your stomach as she slowly took down your own underwear, sending another wave of shivers coursing through you. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, anticipation building with every gentle caress.

As she continued her descent, her lips brushed against your thighs, teasingly lingering just enough to drive you wild. You could feel the tension in the air, thick with desire, every breath feeling heavier as you awaited her next move. “Jinx, please…” you murmured, half a plea and half a command.

“Patience,” she shot back playfully, her eyes sparkling with delight as she pulled back slightly to tease you. “I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”

With a determined look, she finally kissed you where you needed it the most, her mouth immediately sucking your clit, just as you did with her, each gentle touch eliciting gasps that echoed in the quiet room. She took her time, savoring every reaction you gave her, her confidence radiating as she explored what made you tick.

“God, you’re amazing,” you breathed, lost in the sensations she was creating. You could feel the warmth pooling deep inside you, the tension building to an almost unbearable level. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” she replied with a soft chuckle, the sound sending shivers down your spine. As she licked and flicked her tongue on your pussy, making you feel an overwhelming rush of pleasure, your body responded instinctively as you melted into her.

Every movement was filled with a playful urgency, and you tangled your fingers in her hair, guiding her as she navigated the sensitive areas with expert precision. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you and the blissful connection that deepened with every moment.

“Jinx,” you gasped, feeling the tension building to a breaking point. “I’m so close…”

“Let go, toots,” she murmured, her voice low and encouraging. “I’ve got you.”

With her words echoing in your mind, you surrendered to the waves of pleasure that crashed over you. Your body responded eagerly, a rush of bliss that left you breathless as you found release, each wave washing away any lingering doubts or worries.

Jinx held you close, her movements slowing as she savored every moment, every reaction. As you came down from the high, she pressed gentle kisses along your thighs, your skin still tingling from the intensity of it all.

Your heart racing as you pulled her up to you, wanting to feel her warmth enveloping you once again. “You really are incredible.”

Jinx’s smile was radiant, her eyes sparkling with delight. “I aim to please,” she quoted you, her voice teasing yet filled with affection. “So, what do you think about these relationship benefits now?”

You laughed, pulling her in for a kiss, savoring the taste of her lips and the lingering sweetness of your shared moments. “I think they might just be my favorite thing about us.”

She grinned against your mouth, her playful energy infectious. “Good, because I’m not done exploring all the benefits yet.”

And as you both settled back under the covers, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of warmth, laughter, and love. Just like it was always meant to be.

#jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx x y/n #jinx/you #arcane jinx #jinx x fem!reader #jinx posting #jinx league of legends #jinx smut

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norman-fucking-reedus · 8 months ago

Note

BEGGING ON MY KNEES FOR CORRUPTION KINK WITH DARYL YOU WRITE SMUT SO HEAVENLY😫😫😫

SWEET LITTLE SINNER

THE YUMMY STUFF: Age gap, (Daryl is in his late 50s, Reader in her early 30s) Creampies, breeding kink, fingering, bit of cockwarming, just smutty stuff, ...petnames 😇, semi-public?? guys they fuck in the church, virgin fem!reader, religious!reader, dont cancel me for this, but religion kink

DO NOT READ IF YOU THINK YOU'LL FEEL OFFENDED BECAUSE HOW YOU FEEL IS NOT MY PROBLEM

OKAY ANON I KNOW IM ANSWERING THIS REQ MONTHS LATER BUT BEAR WITH ME ALRIGHT 🎀

Im playing around with a new posting format and I honestly really like it so far! Im just literal dogshit at summaries so I don't necessarily bother with them (I mean at least I try) but eeeerm guys let me know if its cutie AND PLEASE LOOK AT MY BLOG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I CHANGED THAT TOO

So after scrolling through the mounds of unanswered asks I have, I found this one and it reminded me of a conversation I had with my sister abt Daryl x a Christian girl who holds herself very high to her faith and has a deeper understanding of the bible

This takes place around the time they find gabriel, and somehow this ended up being a !greene reader, I also had to extend the church for... purposes :3

Believe it or not this is my first time ever writing corruption kink 😭 I got this request back when I was still fresh on tumblr and its been sitting ever since because I just didn’t know what to do (and I still dont)

southern gothic has me in a chokehold and I cant breathe

"Come on! Fight to the fence!" The sound of Rick's voice bellowed over the deafening clang of metal and ringing gunfire, rapidly taking down any walkers that shuffled within range as the men helped the women to climb over the fence first, Carl dropping down and catching all the weapons that were tossed onto the safe side.

Rosita crawled up the chain fence quickly, noticing that you were behind her when she was balanced right on top and extending a hand out to you. "Up and over" She lightly yet urgently joked, and you could only let out a small huff of air as you grasped her hand, and hauled yourself upwards, swinging a leg over to join her in scaling down the other side.

"Let's go! Move your asses!" Abraham shouted as he fired his gun, covering Rick as he made a break for the fence, the redhead man not far behind once the walkers had started to herd up. He threw the firearm over the fence and easily jumped onto half the fence, using a walker's head as a boost to fling himself over onto the other side.

As you and the others hastily gathered your belongings, no one dared to look back at the remnants of Terminus, trying to stay together as you all ran for a safe place behind Rick, expecting that he had some kind of miracle up his sleeve and would find a place to hunker down for a few hours, days even.

Despite the chaos and the destruction that surrounded you, you and the rest of the group hastily gathered your belongings, not daring to look back at the ruins of Terminus. Trying to stay as closely together as possible, you all followed Rick's lead as he dashed through the trees. He was the one who had kept the group alive for so long, and everyone was hoping that he could do it for just a little while longer.

After what felt like forever, you could feel the intense heat seeping into your skin and making your clothes stick to your body. Every step you took felt like a burden, with the fabric rubbing against your flesh. The air was thick with humidity, and you could feel the moisture clinging to your skin, making you feel sticky and uncomfortable. You glanced around at the other people around you, all of them appeared to be struggling in the heat, with their foreheads glistening with sweat and their breathing labored.

As you looked over at Daryl, you couldn't help but notice the solemn expression on his face as he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. It was clear that he had been struggling to come to terms with Carol's sudden disappearance, and had been much more withdrawn and reserved than usual. He seemed to be lost in thought, lost in his own world, and it was hard to know how to reach out to him.

"Right here," Rick spoke as he brought the group out to a small clearing that was surrounded by trees, briefly scanning the area before crouching down in the dirt and beginning to frantically dig.

Abraham scoffed, "Tha' hell are we still around here for?" taking a few steps forward as he analyzed and addressed Rick, watching the man pull out a blue duffel bag.

"Guns. Some supplies," He said bluntly, pulling the black zipper back and further exposing the bag's contents, multiple guns, and other hand-held weapons. "We go along the fences, use the rifles, and take out the rest of 'em."

"What?" Glenn gawked, staring at Rick in disbelief as he listened to the words spewing out his mouth, bouncing around uncomfortably in his head.

Rick started to pull out the variety of weapons one by one, not once turning to meet Glenn's gaze. "They don't get to live."

The latter pursed his lips and huffed, stepping closer to Rick as to get his attention. "Rick, we got out. It's over."

"It's not over till they're all dead." Rick growled, shaking his head.

"They are dead. That place is on fucking fire, crawling with walkers in every which way." Rosita spat, laughing in annoyance at Rick's stupidity.

You shake your head as Rick continued to pull items out of the bag, "We got lucky back there," you said, voice low and trembling. "It's not worth risking our lives by going back in" your eyes meeting Rick's in a plea for him to understand. "God doesn't always give us a second chance. Just play the hand you were dealt" The thought of going back into that walker-infested place made your skin crawl, and you couldn't understand why Rick was wasting his time.

"Does he think he could give me one?" A familiar voice spoke softly from behind your group, faces lighting up in surprise and joy as Carol lightly stepped through the forest, appearing from behind a tree with her signature smile tugging at her lips, stretching all the way up to her ears when all of Daryl's weight barreled into her frame, almost knocking her straight onto her ass with a shocked laugh.

Her unexpected appearance managed to lift the once extremely heavy atmosphere, now bright and bubbly as it was filled with smiles.

"Did you do that?" Rick questioned once it was his turn to hug Carol, not getting a verbal response but the cheeky smile painting her blood-covered face was more than telling. However, it didn't last long once she scanned over the entirety of the group. "You have to come with me."

Carol led the group through the forest and down the train tracks until reaching a small cabin hidden in the trees where Tyrese and sweet little Judith had been holed up waiting for her return, everyone watching as Sasha, Rick, and Carl sprinted towards them, each cradling their respective loved one. It was another emotional yet much-needed heartfelt reunion, especially considering that the last few weeks had been nothing but hell in a handbasket.

"We should get moving, the fire's still burning" The grey-haired woman suggested as she gave the tall, rising black smoke one last look over.

"Yeah. We need to go" Rick nodded as he took stared at the smoke, an unreadable expression on his face and in his eyes.

Daryl huffed slightly, "Yeah, but where?" glancing around the remote area.

"Doesn't matter. Somewhere far away from there."

It had been a long few days since the group had gotten somewhere far away from there, and a long few days since anyone had anything to eat. Stomachs were empty and energy seemed to only be decreasing, the hunger gnawing away at all of you.

As the sun slowly began to rise above the horizon, Daryl quietly made his way into the dense forest in search of something to eat. It was quiet, and peaceful as he gingerly and skillfully walked through the mess of vines and roots at his feet, blue eyes scanning the dirt floor for any sign of movement that might indicate the presence of an animal.

Oddly enough, it felt like he wasn't necessarily alone in these woods, glancing around and over his shoulder more than he typically would. Maybe it was just a nearby walker he could sense before he could see, but he knew way better than to believe something like that. His gut told him that there was someone else out here, and Daryl learned to always listen to his gut.

He instinctively raised his crossbow to be eye level, scanning the treeline as he took careful and quiet steps, moving from the west to the north and then east. There was a slight breeze that ruffled the leaves, tousled dark hair in his face, and flowed a dirty white skirt from a few feet from him, a tiny but audible gasp heard.

It had come from behind a thick collection of bushes, Daryl carefully combing them out of the way with one hand and ducking to prevent anything from getting in his eye. He had a tight grip on his crossbow, ready for whatever potential danger could be on the other side.

Luckily for him though, there was no danger. It was just you, the weird and off-putting Greene who had somehow turned into a new interest for Daryl, not quite being able to put his finger on just what it was that drew him towards you.

You were a quiet, soft but strange Christian girl, much different than Maggie and Beth. Unlike them, you seemed to have some kind of spiritual connection to the bible, a deeper understanding of it that often made others feel oddly safe around you, as if you truly did have God protecting you.

Funny enough, it reminded Daryl of when his parents would drag him to the southern church, forcing him into the small confession box where he would sit and sob for hours, silently begging for God to come save him.

He could hear you softly murmuring something, but the full words didn't entirely reach his ears. You were kneeling in front of a large moss-covered log, hands clasped together with your head down, looking up every so often. He watched how every time you leaned back, your hair fluttered back and fell back into position.

Not wanting to be creepy, he decided to come out from where he had been hiding, a little taken aback when you seemed to not be bothered, as if you had already known he wasn't any sort of threat.

"Hell ya' doin' out here girl?" Daryl grumbled out, standing a few feet behind you. He watched as you repeated the motion with your head a few more times, eventually pushing yourself up off your knees.

You knocked the gathered leaves and a few bugs off your skirt, smiling at him softly. "Prayer. I come out here every mornin' for it"

He scoffed slightly, glancing down at the ground as he rolled a rock under his shoe. "Why bother? Not like s'gon get heard anyway"

“Yeah? We’ll see. I prayed we find a safe place today” You said as you brushed some hair our your mouth, wind starting to pick up in speed.

Daryl hummed, “Pray we also find some food?” flipping his own hair out his face.

“Of course,” You laughed slightly, airy and light. “But with you out here I think that’ll be answered”

The man scoffed again, this time ducking his head at your words. “Yeah right” He mumbled out.

“I mean it. Look, there’s a squirrel in that tree” You point to a nearby oak tree and Daryl follows your finger, pulling the trigger of his crossbow faster than you could even fathom.

The squirrel hit the ground, Daryl stepped over a few roots and bushes to pick it up, pulling the arrow out and tossing the carcass over his shoulder.

“Good eye girly. C’mon, guess yer God is gon help ya’ help feed us” He glanced at you from over his clear shoulder, motioning for you to follow him with a short nod of the head.

You followed as he walked through the thick mess of bushes, the green leaves staining your cowgirl boots as you stepped on them. The birds chirped loudly above head as the sun got higher and higher in the sky, the air starting to increase in temperature.

It was quite a nice walk through the forest regardless of the heat, Daryl making for much better company than you expected even though he didn't have much to say. You filled the silence by humming softly to yourself, staying a few feet behind and looking around the wooded terrain, keeping an eye out for animals and walkers.

Daryl paused for a moment, holding up a finger and then positioning his crossbow again. The weapon fired, and you watched as it struck another squirrel, this time pinning it against a tree.

He yanked the arrow out, sliding it back into the holder on the front of his bow and tossing the second squirrel over his shoulder.

"Need'ta get at least five," He said as he continued walking, glancing at you again from over his other shoulder just to make sure you were still there.

You scoffed slightly at his words. "Five?" You repeated, staring at the angel wings on the back of his vest.

Daryl nodded, peering up into the trees and looking around on the ground. "Yeah. Got a lotta people to feed"

"And you think five is the lucky number?" You joke lightly, a small smile tugging your lips as you stay hot on his heels.

He shrugged, squirrels bouncing with the motion. "Dunno. Depends on how many ya prayed for"

"Well, if you told me, I would've prayed for at least ten" You appeared at his side and bumped his arm with yours, his gaze meeting yours for only a split second before you were suddenly startled by Rick and Glenn's out-of-nowhere appearances.

They pointed their guns at both of you, and you put your hands up to show you weren't a threat. "Jus' catchin' some breakfast," Daryl said as he dropped his arms and nodded at Glenn in greetings.

"Ready to get some concrete under your feet?" Rick asked him as the four of you began to make your way out of the forest and back to the rest of the group, the day only getting hotter and hotter. "I think it's time."

Daryl hummed, a thin layer of sweat starting to form on his forehead. "That is sweet music to my ears, Officer."

"We take the next road we come to, try to get back to going north 'till we find a vehicle." Rick gestured slightly with his hand, gun still in his grip just in case.

You all stepped up the steep hill leading back to the road where the group had decided to set up a temporary camp for the night.

Rick meet Daryl's eyes, placing a hand on his squirrel-less shoulder. "Good?"

"Good"

"–And Father God, I once again call upon you to ask for a blessing, a miracle, an answer. You've got me so far, this group, I ask, will you continue to do so? Will you bestow us a safe place? A home?"

Back on the road once again. It was hot as the group ventured forward, worn down shoes and boots slapping against the burning pavement as you all conversed amount yourselves and entertained one another, Michonne and Carl in some form of competition while you lingered behind, Daryl nearby just in case a walker somehow nabbed you.

He silently listened to the soft whispering of your voice, the gentle lull you used as you spoke your prayers, walking with your head down and the palms of your hands facing towards the sky, almost reaching out in a sense.

There was a few questions lingering on his tongue, but growing up in the southern church Daryl had learned not to ask questions until after prayer. Hell, he had learned not to ask questions period.

Daryl only watched you out the corner of his eye, your plush lips moving slightly as you murmured. There was just something about you that was captivating, the fact that you were almost a mixture of Beth's sweet and softness, Maggie's stern and stubbornness, it made him curious to know what the third mysterious Greene had to offer.

"Amen" You mumbled a little louder than intended, clasping your hands together as you finished and concluded your prayer. You brushed some hair out your face when you lifted your head, catching a glimpse at Daryl's watchful eye.

He looked away when your gaze met his, furrowing your brow slightly with a small and playful smile. "What?" You appeared closer to his side and purposely bumped into him, watching how he staggered a little in his pace.

"Nothin'. Jus' hot as hell out here" Daryl shrugged slightly, sweat rolling down his face and back.

You hummed softly, "Hell is a lot hotter than this, but it is super hot. Just wish we could find a river or something" fanning your legs with the loose fabric of your skirt.

Daryl glanced at you, eyes dropping the flowing motion of the fabric. "Tryna' go swimmin'?" He questioned, because a dip in the cool river didn't sound that bad at all

"We weren't really allowed growing up, swimsuits were always super revealin' so we just stayed inside most summers" You shrugged, a tiny smile on your lips as you recalled past memories with your sisters, even if it was just sitting inside trashing the kitchen. "We weren't even allowed to wear shorts that didn't stop at the knees"

It made sense, ever since the farm you, Beth, and Maggie had always been more modestly dressed then the rest, never wearing something too short even if it was the only option.

But even then, as long as your skirt as, Daryl still couldn't help himself from picturing the entirety of your bare legs, a shiver coursing through him as he tried to wipe the image away as quickly as it had come. You were sweet, almost too sweet for him. He was damaged and tainted, you were pure and holy.

"My moms used'ta watch me 'nd m'brother when we went to the river behind our house 'cause I ain't know how'ta swim as a kid" Daryl forced himself to say, tearing his eyes away from the dingy fabric and looking anywhere that just wasn't where you were.

Of course, it wasn't it that easy, especially when you giggled at his sentence which almost caused him whiplash from how hard he snapped his neck at you.

"Sorry, sorry. Just– You didn't know how to swim? Even I can swim" You covered your mouth as you spoke through your laughter, cheeks starting to hurt a little from how hard you were smiling.

Daryl scoffed, the sound of your giggles being music to his ears. "Laugh it up girly. Won't be funny when I throw ya' in a river"

You did laugh even harder at that, maybe because you knew it might be true. "It'll be hilarious! Even more because you'll be the one finding me a new outfit"

"Jus' a little water. S'not like yer damn skirt s'gon wash away" Daryl rolled his eyes, watching as you fake a look of offense.

"How do you know that? It just might! Then you'd have to cover me up" You folded your arms over your chest, quirking a brow at the older man as he glanced you up and down.

"Maybe I don' want to" He mumbled with a short shrug of his mouth

"What do you want?" You asked with a small tilt of your head.

Daryl's lips moved way faster then his brain, and he found himself suddenly muttering out "Wanna see wha's under tha' pretty dress"

You stared at him for a little, and he wished he could just bury an arrow in his head now, but then you chuckled a bit, nudging his arm with yours. "That's a sin, Daryl"

The two of you fell silent, your words lingering in Daryl's mind as he focused his gaze down on the floor, his ears perking slightly when they caught the gentle sound of your humming, some kind of song that he had surely never heard before.

He didn't wanna admit that your voice was soothing and melodic, it almost reminded him of his mother when she would cradle his trembling body in her arms, bruised and bloodied as the soft vibrations of her humming buzzed through him, comforting him as he softly sniffled into her chest, clutching onto her shirt and wondering what it was that made him so undeserving of God's–

"Help!"

The scream of terror rang out from the forest to the woods, and you all looked around at each other as your movements halted, everyone turning in the direction they thought the cry had come from with their weapons drawn, you subconsciously inching closer to Daryl for safety.

"Help, anybody! Help!" The cries came again, this time audibly and undeniably from the left side of the trees.

Rick nodded his head, gun drawn and pointed as he dashed off the road and into the forest, the group all following closely behind as the screams and pleads for help didn't cease, getting louder and closer which drew the attention of nearby walkers, having to dodge and take out any that got too close.

"Anyone, help! Help!"

As you all sprinted deeper into the trees, the sound of snarling and clicking teeth began to mix and become more audible, eventually leading the group out into a green clearing where there was a... pastor cowering ontop of a large stone rock, slipping off and making a half-ass attempt at kicking the walkers.

There weren't that many walkers, but it was still enough to where Rick felt firing his gun was necessary. The gunshots rang out through the forest, and you covered your ears at the loud noise, wincing slightly as it bounced around uncomfortably in your head.

Daryl took out the last straggler with a hard stab of his knife, wiping the thick blood off his blade on his pants before he slid it back in his holster, appearing at your side as he analyzed the pained expression on your face.

"Ya' alrigh'?" He murmered softly, hands hovering over your face but not quiet touching it, almost as if he was restraining himself.

You nodded, uncovering your ears and glancing at the pastor on the top of the rock, Daryl and everyone else following your gaze.

He whimpered softly and quietly from where he sat, eyes frantically darting between the all of you as if you all were the threat.

"Come on down." Rick said in a loud, stern voice, taking a few steps forward in front as the group took a few steps back.

The man rolled on his stomach and awkwardly wormed his way down grunting slightly and crying out when he slipped the rest of the way and landed on his ass.

A few giggles erupted from you and Maggie, stifling your laughter in the same way you've both always done by simply turning your heads away from the source of humor.

Rick didn't seem too entertained though, glancing the man up and down when he stumbled to his feet and dusted himself off. "You okay?" He raised a brow, emotion unmoving and flat.

"Sorry. Yes, thank you. I-I'm Gabriel." He stammered out, his lips pulling themselves into a small an nervous smile.

"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick titled his head as he asked condescendingly, taking another step closer to 'Gabriel.'

The man in question chuckled slightly. "Do I look like I would have any weapons?"

"We don't give a rats flying fucking ass what it looks like." Abraham barked out, and you could only nod your head in agreement.

Gabriel mumbled out some kind of understanding before he put on his best brave face. "I have no weapons of any kind. The word of God is the only protection I need"

At that you scoffed, covering your mouth in a fake apology. "Oh sorry, just that, didn't really look like God was protecting you now was he?"

Gabriel smiled nervously and awkwardly at your words, his eyes taking in your attire and the sparkly cross around your neck. "Well, he led a woman of your nurture here, so that must mean something right?"

"Oh of course. It means that you have something we want" You spoke softly, yet your tone was oddly dark. It somehow flipped the aura surrounding the group, replacing it with a heavy presence that just couldn't be explained.

"I-I have nothing to offer. Whatever food I- I had left, it just hit the ground." He glanced down at the ruin pile of whatever it was he had.

Carl stepped forward, fishing something out his pocket and holding it out to the pastor. "We've got some pecans, sorry if you're allergic" He partially joked, taking a step back and behind his dad.

Gabriel thanked him, dumping a few into his mouth and chewing. Judith cooed sweetly from where she rested against Beth, the mans eyes softening as he spotted her. "That's a beautiful child," He said, glancing around at just how many of you there were. "D- Do you have a camp?"

"No. Do you?" Rick asked without hesitation.

"I have a church." Gabriel mumbled, and your ears perked up at the sound of that. Daryl also noted the way your face lit up, while his twisted in distain.

Rick stuck his gun in the waist band of his jeans, aggressively grabbing Gabriel. "Hold your hands above your head."

"How many walkers have you killed?" He questioned, roughly patting the man down in search for any weapons.

"Not any, actually." Gabriel answered nervously.

"Turn around." Rick commanded and he spun the man, continuing his thorough search. "How many people have you killed?"

"None." Gabriel said as Rick spun him back around, narrowing sharp, quizzical blue eyes at him.

"Why?" He almost hissed the words out, whispering them out through the skin of his teeth.

Gabriel was silent for a moment, glancing at all of you before back at Rick. "Because the Lord abhors violence."

"We've all done something, we were all born as sinners. Nobody's perfectly pure." You spoke up from where you stood behind Daryl, shaking your head slightly. Daryl could argue with your words that you were the most perfect damn thing he’s seen, but he forced himself to keep his mouth shut instead. You were pure and holy, he was damaged and tainted.

He looked at you, slightly taken aback. Rick finished his search by nodding in confirmation that he was clear, taking a step back from Gabriel but not too far.

"I sin almost every day," He murmured out after a moment, scanning you all once more before his lips shifted into another small nervous smile. "But those sins, I confess them to God, not strangers."

"You said you had a church?"

You sat outside on the church step with all the other women, plus Gabriel, while all the guys stormed inside to do a thorough search of the building, in search of any weapons or any other people. Although Gabe claimed it was just him and himself, Rick didn't believe him and didn't want to take any risks.

It was quite peaceful, birds chirping above with a slight breeze that brought a little bit of cooling relief from the burning sun. Judith cooed softly in Beth's lap, shaded from the sun courtesy of Carl's hat, too big to properly fit her head but big enough to cover her body.

"I spent months here without stepping out the front door." Gabriel's voice cut through the blissful silence, and you tried not to shoot him an irritated glare. Rick came out first, followed by Daryl and then Glenn. "If you found someone inside, well, it would have been surprising."

"We found a short bus out back." Rick said, hands on his hips as he squinted from the harsh glare of the sun. “Nothing else besides that. I think we can settle down here for a minute”

“Shit ain’t settled ‘till we get Eugene’s ass to Washington” Abraham’s voice barked from behind the man, Eugene and Rosita following suit.

Daryl stood on the step above yours, and you turned to smile softly at him as his large frame blocked the scorching light of the sun from spilling down onto you.

He scowled in response, but only because he didn't wanna make his cheeks any more red than they already were. He turned his head away and decided to just blame the burning sensation on the Georgia heat.

Rick shrugged his shoulders as he dismissed Abraham. "Yeah, well, people are exhausted. This place has four walls and a roof. Safe. In other words, we're staying here."

"Sounds pretty good to me, I've slept inside a chapel before," You said as you twisted your head to look at Rick, glancing inside the church to get a glimpse at the size inside. "Plus we can all fit in there, so why not? We could even do our own version of 'The Last Supper' but with squirrel meat" You added, gesturing towards the string of squirrels Daryl had managed to catch on the journey here.

"That kinda does sound good" Beth smiled as she bounced Judith on her leg, the thought of eating meat making her really hungry. "And we can have a bonfire! It'll be even better 'cause we won't have to sleep outside after we put it out" She gasped slightly when the idea crossed her mind, sitting up a little straighter as she talked about it.

Maggie smiled softly at the two of you as you both made light of the situation, grateful that you had always been able to see the bright side of things and just simply brush things off, sometimes falling and scraping your knee but getting right back up to walk it off.

Out of the three of them, you had always had a much stronger connection to God even as a child, sometimes walking right out of Sunday school because you claimed the teacher "silenced" his voice. Growing up, you only continued to believe more and more, so much to the point that it almost worried Maggie, like you could always see something that she couldn't.

There were times when she found herself a bit envious of you, especially when you both had reached your teen years, Maggie starting to take a dive at rebellion and you still as perfectly holy as you had been at age five, wardrobe consisting of nothing but your pristine white clothes, and the same faded white cowgirl boots daddy had bought for you a decade ago on Christmas. He had gotten you all a pair to wear around the farm when dealing and riding with the horses, you and Beth wearing yours down to absolute hell.

By the time you were both in your early twenties, petty rivalry put aside years later replaced by constant gossip and the latest guy Maggie was going out with, she realized that there was no reason to envy you, because she didn't wanna be you. You were pure, holy, and kept yourself high within your faith, studying the Bible in a way that she sometimes couldn't even wrap her head around.

"We need supplies, no matter what we do next" Rick spoke up as he glanced around at everyone, watching Beth pass over Judith to you to sit in the shade Daryl provided.

Glenn nodded in agreement. "That's right. Food, water, ammunition, anything we can find"

You quirked a brow at Gabriel, glancing him up and down. "How'd you survive here for so long?"

He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice and stuttered as all eyes landed on him. "W- Well, I had God protecting me"

"No, you didn't. God doesn't protect, he watches" You rolled your eyes at him, as if this wasn't common knowledge.

Gabriel was taken aback by your response, mouth slightly agape as he scrambled to find a different answer. "Our annual canned food drive, things fell apart right after we finished-"

"That's great 'nd all, but Rick, seriously, we're gon' get heatstroke s sittin' out here in the boilin' sun" Maggie cut the man off, fanning herself with both her hands even as she was pressed up against your side, trying to hog the shade that you were already sharing with Beth and Jude.

Carol nodded her head in agreement, also dripping in sweat. "Yeah. You said it was safe, so why aren't we inside yet?" She gestured to the church.

"Alright, alright. Everyone inside. Let's cool off and rest our feet. We can discuss what's next later." Rick nodded and propped the church door open so that the group could easily fit through with all their stuff and guns, loud clattering as these things were dropped on the floor.

You followed after Maggie as she helped Glenn haul a bag inside, holding Judith on your hip as she sucked on her tiny fist. The way you held her almost looked natural, as if she was your very own. Daryl tried to pry his eyes away, but he just couldn't. He was drawn to you in a way he couldn't understand.

It bothered him in a way, the world had ended and you treated every day as if it was just an average day, as if dead people walking around was nothing more but an inconvenience. You were a carefree and buoyant spirit, as if your mind was consistently clear and levelheaded.

But it also intrigued him, how somehow someway in a world plagued with darkness that forces people to be tough and hard, you still manage to be soft and dainty, as if the plague hadn't even touched you once.

There was a combination of walker blood and mud splattered all across your white dress, some of it on your sleeves and your face, yet it didn't make you look any less tender, especially now as you seemed to sit cozily in the nave of the church, bouncing Judith on your leg as you softly hummed her a song.

Inside the church was fairly big, the back of it containing a few large offices that Rick deemed the safest the camp out in for the night, explaining that the doors had locks and that if someone were to break in everyone would hear and have plenty of time to wake up, claiming that everyone could sneak out the back door or just fight if need.

"The food lasted a long time," Gabriel said once the large wooden door creaked shut, other members of the group finding a place to settle down. "And then I started scavenging. I've cleaned out every place nearby, except for one."

"What kept you from it?" Rick questioned.

Gabe shrugged. "It's overrun."

"How many?" Glenn pipped in from against a wall.

Gabriel slightly tilted his head in thought. "A dozen or so? Maybe more."

Rick scoffed, hands on his hips as he stared at the man. "We can handle a dozen."

"Bob and I will go with you," Michonne said calmly as she stepped forward. "Tyreese should stay here, help keep Judith safe."

"That'll be okay?" Rick glanced over to the man in question, who nodded his head.

"You ever need me to watch her, need anything for her, I'm right here" Tyreese said with a small smile.

The corner of Rick's mouth slightly quipped upward in a tiny smirk. "I'm grateful for it."

"I'll draw you a map–" Gabriel spoke up but was quickly cut off, "–You don't need to, you're coming with us." by Rick who shot him down with a cold icy glare.

It caught Gabriel off-guard and made his anxiety go through the roof. "I– I'm not gonna be of any help, you saw me up on that rock, I'm no good around those things." He stammered, trying to plead his case nervously under Rick's burning gaze.

"You're coming with us."

The sun had set long ago, and the inside of the church was lit up with a warm candle ambiance that fueled that lighthearted mood, everyone in the group chattering and laughing with one another for the first time in what felt like years.

"I'd like to propose a toast." Abraham loudly announced over everyone and all conversations ceased as the ginger easily captured all eyes in the room, raising his glass of wine that Gabriel had pulled from his own office.

"When I look around this room... all I can see is survivors." He said, scanning his eyes over the nave and everyone inside. "Each and every damn one of you has earned that title."

Abraham was silent for a moment, giving the room one last glance over before tipping his glass. "To the survivors."

"Survivors! Cheers!" You all said in unison, raising your glasses and clinking it against the person beside you, the church erupting back into its previous laughter as everyone resumed drinking and enjoying the night.

You scooted your way over to Daryl who was sat in a corner, purposely getting in his space and holding out your glass to him. "Survivors." You mumbled, a tiny smile tugging at your lips.

He glanced at you, a faraway expression on his face as he raised his glass to yours, mumbling out a soft,"Survivors" that was only loud enough for the both of you to hear.

"Now," Abraham said out loud once again, all eyes falling on him. "We get Eugene to Washington, and he will make the dead die, and the living will have this world again." He took a swing of his drink, raising his pinky. "And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip."

From where Judith sat snuggly in Rick's lap, she cooed and fisted some of his shirts in her small hands.

"Eugene, what's in DC?" The ginger questioned, all eyes now falling on the scientist for the answer.

He took a moment, clearing his throat before he spoke in his usual flat and unwavering tone of voice. "Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude, that means food, fuel, refuge."

"Restart," Abraham concluded, Eugene giving a short and curt nod at the response. "However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started."

"Save the world for that little one, save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there, who don't got' nothin' left to do except survive." Abraham spoke, his words of encouragement ringing out through the church's walls.

Judith cooed loudly as she squirmed in Rick's lap, and he smiled at her as he readjusted his grip on her tiny torso. "I think she knows what I'm about to say," Rick joked, managing a few laughs from people. "If she's in, then I'm in too."

"We're all in" Carol interjected, smiles spreading across everyone's faces as conversations and laughter began to fill the room again, people started to celebrate by drinking, clapping, and cheering, the energy in the room upbeat and positive. "Let's do it!" Abraham exclaimed, clearly now tipsier than everyone else as he raised his almost empty glass in the air one more time.

The once warm and cozy atmosphere that the church had inside during the earlier activities had been snuffed out long ago, leaving a cold and empty feeling inside the nave.

It wasn't literally cold, or maybe it was just the cigarette that was keeping Daryl warm, taking long drags from the small stick every minute or so. He couldn't be bothered to go all the way outside, and the natural glow of the moon seeping into the room was more than enough.

Plus, it's not like he was alone, considering that you were sitting in the aisle over from him with your head down.

It had been just the two of you in pure silence for about thirty minutes, and Daryl had only been staring at you for twenty. He tried not to, he really did, but it was hard for his eyes to peel away from the way your dress reflected the light, hands neatly folded together in your lap as hair spilled down your shoulders.

Because of the wine from earlier, there was a slight buzz that ran through Daryl's nerves that somehow encouraged him to stop staring and stand, making his way over to where you were sitting.

"Smoking is a sin, and so is interrupting my prayer," You said once he was sat a few inches from you, not even glancing up at him once.

Daryl let out a tiny scoff, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Yeah, well, s'gon fall on deaf ears anyway"

"Do you not believe in God?" You asked as you blinked your eyes, now turning your head to look at him with genuine curiosity etched on your features.

The man shook his head. "Ain't ever believed in no God," he said, pulling another hit and speaking around it. "Hell, ain't ever believed in nobody"

You sighed a little, leaning back against the bench. "God believes in you"

Daryl scoffed a lot louder at that. "Don' even believe in m'self"

"Well, I believe in you," You said with a shrug, scooting a bit closer to him to bump him with your elbow.

He grumbled as he bumped you back, more so pushing as he held his cigarette between his teeth. "Wha' else ya' believe in? Sandy Clause?"

You let out a small giggle at his butchered version of the fictional character. "Santa, and no, I don't. But I do believe that this is the next world though."

"Why? We ain't dead yet" Daryl analyzed you from the corner of his eyes.

You shook your head, "No, we're not. We never have been. Don't you see? This, this is the resurrection" waving your hands around for emphasis.

"I thought everyone was s'pposed ta' disappear or some shit?" He questioned and you rolled your eyes at him. "Oh come on, I thought you didn't believe in stuff like that. Did you also think that Jesus was gonna fly down from the sky and save us all?"

Daryl huffed as he took a long drag, getting more toward the last few puffs of his cigarette as he raised a brow at you. "Ain't that tha' whole point?"

"That's what people want you to think. They always talk about the resurrection and how Jesus will come back from the dead to save humanity from its wrongdoings, which is exactly what's happening now"

"Tha' hell ya' tryna' say, girl?"

"That God has a plan. He wants the world to be pure again, he wants us to be pure again"

At your words, Daryl scoffed, taking a long and final drag of his cigarette. "Well, m'not very pure unlike yerself" He said as he stomped out the butt of the remaining stick, crushing it under a muddy a boot.

"You're tainted, and its okay. No need to be envious of my non-sinning streak" You jokingly said, flipping your hair which got a tiny chuckle out the older man.

"Now I definitely don' believe ya' ain't ever committed no sin" He said, shaking his head.

You had a small smile playing at your lips, shrugging both shoulders as you looked at him. "I mean, technically walkers aren't people, so I don't really think I've killed anyone"

"Steal anythin'?"

"Thou shall not steal, Daryl. Plus, looting stores is only against the law"

"Well, everyone's told a lie"

"Oh, I'd never lie. The truth will set you free"

Daryl frowned at your words. "Yer startin' ta' piss me off, girl"

"I'm just not a sinner, Daryl. I was raised inside a church, so I spent all my time studying the bible and asking God questions." You said with a sigh, thinking back to when you were still a little girl.

"Wha' kinda questions?" Daryl asked, and you turned once again to meet his gaze.

"Well," You started, taking a moment to think before glancing back up at him. "I've always wondered if you commit a sin inside a church, if it still counts as a sin"

"How would ya' know?"

You shrugged. "I don't, I've never really had any sin to commit"

Daryl hummed, eyes flickering down to your plush lips, tracing the shape of them a few times before shifting his gaze back up to meet your eyes. "Lust is a sin"

"Now that's just unholy, Daryl" You scoffed at him, crossing your arms and turning your head away to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks, because lust was indeed a sin. "It's extremely important to save yourself for the person you're gonna marry. Sex is an emotional gift"

The man furrowed his brows, "How do ya' know tha' if ya' ain't ever fucked?" suppressing the shiver that ran through him at his own words.

Something dark twisted and turned in his stomach just thinking about the idea that you were just as pure as the day that you were born, and he tried not to think about the wildly dirty things he wanted to do to you that he knew would potentially leave a stain. You had probably never even thought of doing something like that, let alone with someone of his nature.

But you had, and you were right now, nervously and subconsciously squeezing your thighs together the more self-aware you started to feel within the older man's presence, feeling his eyes traveling over the length of your body. "I told you, I studied the bible. Sex is the connection of two people who are bound to one another for life, aka being married of course"

"Sex could also just be sex," Daryl shrugged, his brows unmoving as your words confusingly rang out in his ears. "Ain't much of a difference is there?"

You sighed, shaking your head at him. "Of course there is silly. When you're married, sex is a form of art and beauty, as well as conception. God intends for us to use our bodies as a way to communicate with our partner. Any other time, sex is just a form of escape and pleasure, abusing the gift that God has given us in a sinful way, or as you know, lust"

Daryl hummed as you simplified the words for him in a way that he still didn't necessarily understand, but he just decided to pretend like he did. "Ya' ain't ever go through hormones growin' up?"

"Are you asking if I get horny?" You let out a tiny giggle at how his eyes snapped to yours at the blunt question, his cheeks starting to tint pink as he grumbled and looked away. You laughed and wrapped your hands around his forearm, pulling at the man and trying to get him to look at you. "Don't get embarrassed! Are you?"

Unknowingly, you had instead pulled yourself a lot closer to Daryl, and when he twisted his head back in your direction, you were both face to face, noses almost touching.

Daryl stopped breathing for a few seconds as your doe eyes stared up at him, flickering down to where your fingers gripped what you now realized was his very muscular forearm. Sitting this close to him under his burning blue gaze made you feel a bit small, and made a funny feeling form in your lower stomach.

His own eyes flickered back down to your lips, finding himself using his other hand to brush some hair out of your face, curling his fingers at the back of your hand and cupping your cheek in a big, calloused palm, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. "Maybe I am"

"This is God's house, Daryl." You muttered in a hushed whisper as you curled your fingers around his arm, trying not to downright melt into the warm touch of his hand.

"Think he's gon' watch us?" He whispered back, and your lower stomach tingled in a way that made your whole core heat up, feeling a mild throbbing sensation coming from your private area as you looked up at the older man, running his thumb over the edge of your jaw.

"I– I don't–" You stammered, shifting your eyes away from his as you found yourself at a loss for words.

"Said ya' always wanted ta' commit a sin inna church, righ'?" Daryl tilted your gaze back to his, stroking your cheek with a gentleness you didn't even know he could muster. "Might as well do the one tha' feels best"

"But I've never done something like this... Will it– Will it hurt?" You said as you searched his eyes, the blue orbs going soft and tender.

"M'not gonna hurt ya' at all sweetheart," He said in a genuine voice, holding your face a little tighter. He couldn't even imagine hurting something as dainty as you, especially not with the way you were looking up at him with curious and innocent eyes. "If anythin' I do hurts, tell me, alrigh'?"

You nodded, the corner of your lips twitching into a smile as it felt like there was an entire butterfly exhibit in your stomach, Daryl learning down into your space and first giving your lips a small peck, before pulling you completely flush by the back of your nape, a shiver running up your spine that went all the way down to your clothed cunt, legs squeezing together as Daryl deepened the kiss, your first and hottest kiss ever.

It made your head light and dizzy, leaving you starstruck and dazed when he pulled away with only a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips, Daryl brushing the skin of your cheek once again as you slowly blinked, still feeling airy from the kiss you just experienced.

"Do that again please" You murmured in a tiny plea, feeling both sets of your lips tingle in excitement at all the new sensations Daryl was showing you.

He pulled you in for a chaste peck, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. "Ya' like tha', pretty girl?" He mumbled the words against you, pressing another kiss to your plush lips and swallowing the tiny moan you let out.

You moved to wrap your arms around the older man's neck, Daryl now taking both his hands and gripping you by your waist, pulling a shocked gasp from you at the way his touch made your cunt ache. He carefully moved you to lay on your back, slotting a thigh between your legs and pressing the denim material against your soaked panties, a noise mixed between embarrassment and need coming from your throat.

It felt so good, and you found yourself trying to rut against Daryl's thigh as he started to kiss and suck at your neck, making you giggle slightly as the skin there was more ticklish than anywhere else. His body was big and warm as it was pressed on top of yours, feeling a pulsating sensation traveling through your nerves as you continued to needily hump his leg, whining softly as you tried to further fuel the feel-good moment you were having.

"Let m'help ya' out doll, jus' leave it all ta' me, gon' make ya feel real good" Daryl spoke the words from the underside of your jaw, kissing his way up to your lips before he leaned back, pulling his thigh back and leaving a hand on your hip, courtesy of your fingers scrambling to curl around his for comfort.

"I'm a bit nervous," You said, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment as you spoke the words. "What if I mess something up?"

"Tha' ain't gon' happen, m'gon do all tha' work fer ya'" Daryl said as his hands moved down to your thighs, lifting and pulling your legs to circle his waist, a shrill shriek tearing out your throat as your dress started to slip down and pool at your waist.

It left your lower half completely exposed, and it was almost an instinct to drop your hands down to cover your panties, a hot blush painting over as Daryl gripped both your hands in one, moving them away and pinning them to your chest. "Nuh'uh, ya' ain't gonna hide from me, pretty girl"

You whined softly as he released your wrists, ducking his head down to kiss and lick your stomach, causing you to jerk from the wet muscle dragging across your skin. His fingers traveled down past the hem of your undies, pushing them midway down your thighs before sitting back up and lifting one of your thighs, yanking the flimsy blue fabric the rest of the way off and stuffing it in his back pocket, pulling you a bit closer as he licked his lips, eyeing the prettiest pussy he's ever seen.

You weren't exactly sure what to do with your hands, deciding instead to clench the cross around your neck in one and prop yourself up on the other, all this being so new and different, dirty and sinful, that you couldn't help but wanna watch.

Daryl placed a hand on your hip, the other moving to gather spit on his fingers. "Gotta get ya' stretched out so I don' hurt ya'"'

"Is this part gonna hurt? I've only masturbated once, but I was too scared to actually finger myself" You frowned a little, feeling your nerves spike as it started set really just how inexperienced you were.

Daryl leaned down and placed a soft peck to your lips, dipping his fingers into your cunt gently and rubbing the digits up and down your slit, pressing down against your clit and moving in a circular motion, his actions on the bundle of nerves sending shivers sparking up your spine, letting out a moan that was deep in your throat right against the older man's lips.

He let out a low chuckle, adding a second finger to his movement against your clit. "Doesn' hurt now, does it?"

You shook your head, body tingling in a foreign way that almost made you feel like you had been tased but in a good way, not that you've ever been tased before. The rough pads of his fingertips against your clit drove you absolutely crazy, the faster they moved the more you found your hips jerking down in a clumsy attempt to speed up whatever high it was you were riding right now, feeling better than you ever have in your whole life.

"There ya' go beautiful, c'mon, cum on m'fingers" Daryl murmured the words out, quickening his pace as he could feel your legs twitching around him, your whines and whimpers getting louder and louder. He spread your cunt lips apart more which revealed your raw clit more, a few harsh strokes to the small bud before you were biting down on your bottom lip and letting your head fall back, a shaky, pleased cry tearing out your chest as waves of electricity coursed through your entire nervous system.

Rather than pulling his fingers away, Daryl dragged them back down your now much more sensitive slit, this time slipping a single digit past your tight entrance, the feeling foreign and oddly unique. Daryl's finger was a bit bigger than average, so you could feel there was a slight stretch to your virgin hole.

Daryl could feel it too, as well as the way you experimentally clenched and convulsed around his stilled finger, giving you a few minutes to adjust to the new feeling.

When he began to slowly thrust the digit in and out, curling the tip of his finger each time in search of your sweet spot, carefully watching the way your face twisted and contorted.

"Ya' alrigh'?" He asked, starting to brush his thumb against the skin where he was gripping your hip.

You nodded, involuntarily clenching around him. "Yeah, it just feels really funny, maybe I just had my expectations too high," You said as you furrowed your brows, a bit upset that 'fingering' wasn't all you chalked it up to be.

"First finger ain't much, second one might feel 'bit different" Daryl said as he pulled the digit back, this time pushing back into you with both fingers, the stretch and drag of the two digits feeling agreeably more different than just one.

This time Daryl just kept up his steady pace, continuing to thrust and curl his fingers into your cunt, starting to scissor you further open. Your eyes trailed down to follow the movement of his other hand as he released his grip on your hip, beginning to undo the zipper of his jeans and shoving them halfway down, the first and biggest cock you've ever laid eyes on.

Your jaw went a little slack, scrambling to find words as you felt panic boil in your stomach. "That– That's not gonna fit!"

"Calm down doll, I swear yer'gon be jus' fine" Daryl murmured softly, reaching down to reassuringly press his forehead against yours, so close that your eyelashes were almost touching. "Told ya', m'not gonna hurt ya'. S'probably not gon' feel tha' best at first but it gets better, righ'?"

Taking his words into consideration for a minute, you nodded your head against his and let your eyes flutter shut as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips, followed by another, and then the feeling of his fingers slipping out of you.

It left you feeling oddly empty, but there was excitement building up as you watched Daryl spit on his cock, using it as lube as he dragged it up your already slick slit, pressing the tip into your hole and easily pushing past, the stretch of his cock slowly slipping into you a lot more painful than expected, your hands finding his forearms where he gripped your waist and squeezing them tightly, wincing slightly as you dug your nails into his skin.

Daryl caressed the skin of your waist with his thumb, trying his best to ease the discomfort he could see and knew he was causing you. "I know, I know, s'gon be alrigh' gorgeous, yer' alrigh'" He muttered, pulling his hips back and pushing them forward again, repeating the motion in long, deep strokes.

Whatever his method was, it was definitely working, each drag of his cock against your walls feeling better and better, your cunt only getting wetter and wetter which made it so much easier for Daryl to increase his pace, trying his best to restrain himself from completely plowing into you like he had been craving to do for days, weeks now.

He didn't wanna hurt you or go too rough, this was your first time for crying out loud, a sweet christian girl who hadn't even dipped her own fingers inside herself, and here he was, a grumpy tainted man who had somehow managed to stuff himself balls deep into her pure little pussy, hugging his cock in a warm, velvety hold that he just wanted to absolutely ruin.

He watched the way your eyes fluttered, soft moans coming from you as your face seemed to be pleasantly relaxed, the tight and fearful grip you once had on his arms now reduced to a lazy and content hold, fingers squeezed every once in a while when Daryl's cock would bump a rather sensitive nerve. "That actually feels good" You mumbled as a small smile twitched on your lips.

But Daryl knew how he could make it feel even better, and his restraint to hold back from completely plowing into you had run down to nothing, a sharp grunt leaving his throat when he snapped his hips forward, shoving the entirety of his cock into you suddenly.

You let out a surprised squeak at the action, Daryl's hands planting themselves awkwardly but firmly on the church bench, your own moving to keep yourself steady as he ducked his head down to begin sucking your neck, setting a rough and unforgiving pace.

"Oh my fuuuck" You moaned out in a shaky, pleased breath, fingers curling into the wood and your toes curling in your boots. It's like you were dancing on cloud ten, each hard bump of his tip to your cervix making your mouth practically water, sending bolts of lightning licking up your spine.

Daryl groaned into the skin of your neck, sucking and kissing against your pulse as he got lost in the warmth of your cunt. "Got such a perfect fuckin' pussy, love tha' s'all fer me"

You whined and couldn't help but clench around him at his words, a shudder running through you when you felt him start to speed up, pulling tiny moans out of your chest at every thrust.

Daryl muttered in a husky voice right by your ear, "Feels so fuckin' amazin' doll, so damn tight 'nd wet, might fuck ya' fer hours" grabbing you by the hip and pulling you impossibly further in his lap, driving his cock faster and deeper into your body, nailing your tender sweet spot dead on which caused you to let out a high pitch cry, Daryl muffling your sounds with a slow but sloppy kiss.

He slammed his cock right into the sensitive bundle of nerves, each thrust making you feel dizzy and lightheaded, knocking the air out of your lungs but it felt so good you couldn't even care, eyes starting to roll back when Daryl slid a hand down to roughly finger at your clit, the way he was stimulating your whole cunt making the entire room spin, a shaky, needy sob spilling pat your lips as your whole body was drowning in pulsing and throbbing tingles, Daryl placing another kiss to your lips as he only went faster.

"Ya like tha' huh m'lil sinner? Goin' against everythin' ya' stand fer, feels real good don' it?" He groaned the words out against your lips, and you downright whimpered at his words, heart pounding in your ears as he worked your clit, still ramming in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You couldn't think, and the only word you could muster was a small, broken "D-Daryl"

Your hips jerked down to clumsily grind against his fingers and his cock, needily chasing the building high of your second orgasm as it became difficult to keep your volume at a low, moans starting to tear themselves right out your throat.

Daryl reached an arm underneath your back and flipped you into a sitting position, straddling his lap with his fat cock now one hundred percent of the way buried inside you, so deep that you were convinced for a second that he was in your stomach. You draped your arms over his shoulders and muffled a lewd moan into his neck, the first thrust sending him deeper than ever.

He held you flush against him and bunched your dress up with one hand, and squeezed your hip with the other, letting out breathy, heavy moans of his own as he bounced you in his lap, the tight and slick drag of your raw cunt against his throbbing cock straight up addictive.

"So goddamn wet baby, ya' was saving this wet ass lil' pussy fer me huh, lil' devil?" As the man spoke, he sounded extremely winded, with deep and passionate huffs, you couldn't help but convulse around him at his words, a tiny noise leaving your lips as you clung to him tighter, whining as his hand on your hip pulled you even closer against his pelvis. "Fuck, so fuckin' perfect doll"

Only choked-off moans and whimpers came from you, trying to muffle your sounds into Daryl's neck as his cock shifted angles inside, driving himself right into a soft and squishy spot that made you mewl, the man holding you down as he continued to slam into that spot head-on. His thrusts were fast and unforgiving, fucking your cunt almost as if he hated you, but his grip was tight and protective, holding your body against his like he loved you.

Which he did, but he just didn't know how to say it. His only hope being that you could feel it in the way he fucked into you, hips starting to falter slightly as your tight cunt milked his cock, practically sucking him in and making it impossible for him to ever want to pull out.

From the way you had started to tremble and spasm around him, Daryl could tell that your orgasm was getting closer and closer, encouraging him to quicken his pace. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” He murmured as he moved down to pepper kisses across your cheek.

“Yes! Oh my goodness yes” You moaned as your entire body pulsated, each bump of his tip to your cervix sending you further into bliss. Your arms dropped down and you curled your fingers into his sturdy shoulders for purchase as he relentlessly pounded your twitching pussy, keeping your limp body closely pressed against his.

Daryl could feel the boiling heat of his own orgasm rising in his gut, the wet and warm slide of your cunt against the throbbing pulse of his aching cock pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He hitched your dress up further as he adjusted his grip on you, speeding up his pace even more as he started to chase after his own relief, the squeeze of your soft and squishy walls practically making him drunk.

He groaned as electricity licked and burned through his veins, thoughts flashing and racing through his head. “Let me cum in ya’ doll. Gonna get ya’ nice ‘nd plumped up with a lil’ baby, huh?”

That sent tingles shooting down your spine, clenching down around his thickness at the words each time they rang out in your head. Growing up, all you've ever wanted was to have a sweet little baby of your own, and after unlocking such a world like this you couldn't possibly picture life without Daryl at your side.

"Please, please give me that" You almost whimpered as you trembled against his chest, heart pounding in your chest as a heat burned and built up in your stomach. You jerked your hips and made a clumsy attempt to rut down against him, but he tightened the hold he had on your lower half to stop your movements. "I've got ya' gorgeous, m'gon take care of ya', told ya' m'gon make ya' feel good"

Daryl readjusted his position, moving you to sit up properly and gripping you at the waist, pinning up your dress there as well as he started to bounce you in his lap, downright using your body as a sex toy as he plowed right into your sensitive sweet spot, pulling strained and guttural moans from your chest as you tried your hardest to keep your volume down as to not echo off the church's wall, biting back sobs as your hands found their way to Daryl's chest, fingers curling into the strong flesh as all the digits had a hot buzz to them, lungs suddenly not being able to take in any air as your stomach burned, toes curling in your boots and teeth clenching as a wave of scorching hot pleasure washed over your whole entire body, this time not being able to hold back the loud cry that tore it's way out your throat, uncontrollably convulsing around his cock as he thoroughly fucked you through your orgasm, muffling your pleased moans with a messy kiss.

With the way your now overly sensitive cunt squeezed and roughly gripped his pulsating dick, Daryl wasn't far behind in his orgasm, grunting into your mouth as his hips stuttered inside you, cock twitching eagerly as he pumped his load deep into the warmth of your heat, Daryl slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressing it up against yours.

When he pulled away, you were nothing but a puddle of pure jelly, going limp in his grasp as he wrapped a secure arm around your middle, moving to kiss and suck your neck as he covered you back up by dropping your dress, deciding he wanted to stay wrapped inside you a little longer.

"Are you gonna give me my panties back?" You questioned from where you now rested against his shoulder, eyes following the older mans movement as he flicked his lighter, holding the flame up to a new cigarette.

The tip burned red as he took the first and long drag, blowing the smoke up in the air and holding the cigarette away from you by stretching his arms across the bench, humming softly as if taking a moment to think. "Nah"

You pulled back from his chest and gawked at him. "No? There'll be a sticky mess between my legs in the morning!"

He smirked at you, showing a sliver of his porcelain teeth as he did. "Tha's the point, lil' sinner, yer gonna be feelin' me fer days"

The nickname made you blush, turning your head away from the man as you also considered his words, a part of you wanted to feel and experience it all over again, almost arguably a divine slice of heaven itself, and you wanted to taste it once again.

"Well you should never commit a sin twice" You mumbled instead of your real thoughts, cheeks now starting to heat up from embarrassment and a bit of shame, Daryl's cock still buried inside you as a reminder of what you had just done, a reminder that the purity and sacrality you had been preserving for your future man had been completely stripped by another.

Unless, Daryl was your future man, clenching down around him as he took another drag of his cigarette, placing a hand back over your now-covered hip, traveling up to your waist, and squeezing the flesh there. He wasn't the God-fearing, clear-minded, faithful man you had dreamed about as a little girl. Still, he was the strong, protective, and leaderful man that you had dreamed about as a young woman, the man you dreamed of to provide for you and the home you built for another, to protect and preserve the family he's made.

His hand grazed your jaw, fingers caressing your cheek and tracing over the shape of your lips. With his gentle and soft touch, you could feel each blister and callous formed on his hands, the rough feeling of hard work against your skin causing goosebumps.

"Somethin' bad gon' happen ta' us?" He questioned, talking around an exhale of smoke as he did.

"We'll go to hell, Daryl!" You rolled your eyes at him.

He lazily shrugged a shoulder, staring at you with searching eyes. "We'll go together"

Your mouth gaped at his words, stammering as you struggled to find your own. "W– Well I'd much rather prefer we go to heaven together"

"They not gon' let me in" Daryl scoffed slightly as he spoke.

"Not when you commit sins like lust, Mr. Tainted" You flicked his forehead, and he grumbled swatting your hand away, rubbing the reddening skin.

"Ain't my fault, Mrs. Holy, yer' dress leaves little ta' tha' imagination" He muttered, and your eyes widened at his words.

"Are you– My dress goes to my flipping ankles!" You picked up some of the pooled dingy fabric, tugging on it for emphasis.

Daryl shrugged again at that, his eyes now traveling the length of your body where you sat still in his lap. "Don' matter, ever since I saw tha' pretty lil' face I've wanted ta' see the rest of ya', 'nd I ain't disappointed"

You scoffed in disbelief, turning your head in an attempt to hide the heat rising to your face, speaking in a hushed whisper. "My gosh, you speak such foul words in such a sacred place"

"We jus' fucked" Daryl said bluntly, taking another drag from his cigarette as he watched you snap your neck back to him, mouth slightly agape as you scrambled for words. "Y– Yes. But, that doesn't mean you have to talk like that in God's house"

At that, Daryl's cock twitched inside you, a smirk taking over his lips "Ya' said tha' same thing before m'tongue was down yer' throat"

"Daryl!" You hissed, the man chuckling as he gripped your hip and moved to kiss at your already marked-up neck, the weight of your faith starting to weigh heavy as you felt Daryl's cock hardening to life against your walls. "Fornication is straight up breaking the laws of God. We can't– I can't do this again"

The smell of cigarettes and sex painted the church air as you planted both hands on Daryl's chest, pushing yourself up and slowly off his dick with a restrained groan, turning into a sharp gasp when the elder pulled you back down, flush against him.

"Think fornica-whatever s'allot more than jus' sex, 'cause I don' have a problem makin' ya' mines" Daryl mumbled the words into your hair, holding you to his chest with one arm and stubbing out his cigarette in the wooden bench with the other. "God can't stop me from wantin' ya', can he?"

"He can, if you don't truly want me" You muttered into his shirt, and could feel the rumble of his short laughter through his stomach. "'S'good tha' I've wanted ya' fer a while then"

You sighed as you pushed yourself up to meet his gaze, eyes sharp and focused on yours as you moved. "It's more than just want, marriage is a life-long commitment, spiritual and eternal, it's about your faithfulness and loyalty to the person you love, the person you wanna become one body with, share your body with. That's why it's important to save yourself for marriage, to keep yourself pure and clean for the one you want to share it with"

"Aren't we one righ' now?"

"I– I mean– yes, but n– not in the way God intended for us to be–"

"–Why? 'Cause we ain't married? Pretty stupid if yer' askin' me"

He took your left hand in his, bring it up to his lips and placing soft kisses on your delicate fingers, lips lingering against your ring finger.

"Don' need no God ta' tell m'tha' I do or don' love ya', 'cause I know I do, dammit woman, loved ya' since I met ya' on yer' daddy's farm" Daryl scoffed as he finally spoke his feelings into the air, listening to himself and how ridiculous he sounded.

You listened intently, staring at him with glossy eyes as he spoke, your lips twitching and tugging into a tiny smile.

A provider, a protector, a man, a real man, was what Daryl Dixon was, the type of man that you thought could only ever exist in your head and bible, yet here he was, clinging to you and holding you close to him, pressed tightly against and in you, so tight that it felt like you'd just melt right into him at any second, his heart beating erratically in his chest, so much that you could feel it against the beat of your own heart.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" You whispered, watching how Daryl's eyes shifted away from yours in the embarrassed way that they always did. "Tell me!"

The man grumbled as you grabbed his face and shook his head, forcing his gaze back on you as he pulled your hands away with his, dropping them down to his chest and holding them there. "I didn' think ya'd want someone like me"

"What? Someone unholy?" You tilted your head slightly at him.

He shook his head, fingers squeezing your wrists. "Someone damaged"

"Damaged? You aren't damaged, Daryl. You're just tainted" You furrowed your brows, frowning slightly at his words.

"Ya' always say tha'" He mumbled, and you sighed. "Because there's no other way for me to put it. You're just a corrupted soul, but that doesn't mean you're a bad person"

He stared at you, licking his lips as he looked at your own, his cock twitching back to life again. "Even if I wanna corrupt ya' too?"

"And how exactly would you do that?" You laughed, but couldn't ignore the heat starting to pool in your gut, feeling a familiar buzz in your fingertips as Daryl ran his hands up your thigh, bunching the fabric of your dress all the up past your tits, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as the cold air hit them, the older man pulling you close and popping one of your tender nipples into his mouth, rocking his hips to full hardness. "M'gonna slut ya' out, pretty girl. Gonna turn ya' into my sweet lil' sinner, a little holy fuckdoll"

"I'm not a sex toy" You whined as he dragged his tongue across your boobs, involuntarily clenching around him as you tried to defend yourself, but Daryl laughed lowly as he trailed his lips up to the skin of your neck, kissing his way up to your ear and taking the lobe between his teeth. "Not yet, gorgeous, not yet"

GUYS. GUYS I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS I SWEAR.

I can't believe its done??? I've snipped so many snippets, cut so much out, stared at it for so long, and now its done (after a few decades) so I hope that everyone who I hyped up for this fic was satisfied and it was everything that I had made it out to be

Anyways this fic wouldn't have even existed without @tylermaxxine the local instigator and chronic coffee chugger

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kaisworlds · 1 year ago

Text

ghillie suit wearing reader who is an absolute fucking unit im talking taller than könig okay

top dom male reader x könig

they meet on the battlefield, now könig knew who you were, of course he did, you were the only one on base who towered over him but he didnt expect his ass to get saved by you plus he had a tiny hallway base crush on you.

he was running through the large amount of trees trying to escape the enemies whose amount was gradually increasing behind him. he was out of ammo and used his gun as a weapon up til now. he dodged a few bullets before feeling a wet patch in his shoulder deciding not to look (to avoid the adrenaline from wearing off) he continues running seeing a lake close by he sprints towards it having the idea to hide out until backup arrived for him. the air was knocked out of his lungs as he got tackled to the ground he tries fighting whatever was ontop of him but feels a hand wrap around his mouth glancing up into the shaggy figures eyes

its the same [e/c] he can never seem to stop staring at in the break room

his body immediately relaxes under the weight of your body pressed up against his, the moment doesnt last forever as the yelling of the enemy soldiers grow louder.

still laying on top of him you lean each of your elbows beside his head resting the tip of your gun on a tree trunk quickly firing, every bullet that leaves the muzzle aims like a tracker into someones skull. könig was so caught up in you being on top of him,his mind running wild, not even registering the low whine that leaves the back of his throat as you get up off of him

furrowing your eyebrows at the noise deciding to leave it to the fact that he was....as much as you tried to find another reason you couldnt so instead you asked "könig right?" while grabbing gauze from one ofbthe patches on your ghillie suit before kneeling down beside him. könig nods looking anywhere but your face eyes widening like saucers as you unbuckle his vest "calm down im just going to wrap the wound before it gets dry and sticks to the fabric, is that okay könig?" the way you say his name has him crossing his thighs to hide the boner pressing up against his pants, his shakey hands slowly move up to take off the gear and clothes he has on. 'why are my hands shaking stop it he's gonna think your weird Scheiße' everything he is doing right now seems wrong in his eyes he can feel his heart racing, he has killed people and faced gruesome shit but none phased him as much as this situation right now after what felt like an eternity to him he finally pulled off his undershirt, his chest completely bare for you to see

taking off the head piece of your suit you start wrapping the bandage over the wound hand resting on his chest surprised by his hammering heart just mumbling out a small "its gonna be okay love" not thinking much of it trying to get him to hold still under your touch

he is so happy the veil covers his face, he wouldnt want you seeing how his cheeks lit up like Christmas lights, he continues to sneak glances at your concentrated face.

of course you noticed, did he really think he wasnt obvious? he shouldve caught on by now the way you subtly licked your lips or the way you've been flexing your jawline this entire time. he was too caught up in his thoughts to even think about that though.

thinking about how he felt your bulge on his thigh while you were ontop of him, about how easily you took him down, you could probably pin his hands down without even trying, how hard could you chok- "such a good boy for sitting still" könig snaps out of his thoughts brain barely comprehending what you said, he makes eye contact with you...you're smirking...did you know he liked you?

"how can you be so oblivious" a teasing tone in your voice he just avoids eye contact slowly shrugging the blush now reaching his neck. clicking your tongue you lean in closer to him hand sliping under his veil cupping his jawline "i like you too if i wasnt obvious enough" gently lifting the black clothe covering his face his hand grabbed your wrist, [e/c] eyes bore into his, as he gets lost in them his hand slowly slips off allowing your hand to raise the cloth stopping when it reaches his nose not wanting to push him.

slowly you lean in crashing your lips onto his he immediately kisses back pulling you closer ontop of him before a call comes in through your radio asking if anyone found könig because he wasnt responding, slowly leaning back grabbing your radio "yeah we're by the lake over"

könig lets the veil drape over his blushing face before slowly putring his gear back on

i love him guys :(

#kai writes👽#dom male reader #top male reader #amab reader #konig x male reader #bottom konig #sub konig

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miridiums-writing · 4 months ago

Note

Hey could you write like a Thranduil x y/n thing? I kinda need it right now.

No Escape

Thranduil x reader fan fic

Imagine : If only you didn’t look so similar to his passed wife, maybe you could have made it out of the elven kingdom with the others.

Authors note : im sorry ive been gone so long, im back now though I promise. Ill set up a new masterlist and we can all forget my old works don’t exist because I hate them all.

The forest was so dark, you and the rest of the company trying to navigate through the winding trails. It was all going fine and well until you all realized you were gong in continuous circles. Seeing the same trees, the same oddly shaped rocks over and over that you all realized something was wrong. “lets just set up camp for now and try again tomorrow.” You insisted, noticing the frustration of the others. “Fine,” Thorin conceded. “We get out of here tomorrow though, we have to keep pushing forwards.”

With that you all settled down for the night, you went off to gather some wood for a fire with Bilbo, unsurprisingly your favourite of the company given how down to earth he was, plus the pure entertainment factor he brought to the group at times due to his cushioned upbringing. “Do you think we actually will get out tomorrow?” Bilbo asked, clearly more worried if that could be the case than he let on. “’course we will, we’ve gotten this far haven’t we?” You reassured, patting the top of Bilbo’s head in hopes of calming his anxiety. “I suppose so.” He mused, adding another stick to the bundle you had already gathered. “Exactly,” You said with a warm smile. “Nothing left to bring us down now except the dragon.” Bilbo seemed to grimace at this. “Don’t remind me” He grumbled. You just laughed lightly. “You’re far too negative, always hope for the best, and prepare for the worst. That’s why you’re here, you little burglar.” “I’m not a burglar.” He reminded. “Well, you’re the best we’ve got, maybe when we’re out of this forest I can help train you how to be stealthy.”

The light banter between the two is quickly cut off by a very loud thump against the forest floor, almost shaking the ground between the pair of you. You immediately dropped the pile of branches to the moss ground, breaking into a sprint back to the others, you could here them in the distance fighting when you’re path was blocked by the biggest spider you’ve ever seen in your life. It was a large black, hairy thing, immediately trying to shoot webs in your direction to catch you. Adrenalin jumped you into first gear, dodging by a hair at the first shot, and bringing your bow and arrow from your back to aim at the spider, aiming right between the eyes and firing the shot. The shot lands. The spider falls, only for three more to appear in its place. This was not going to be easy.

You reach back grabbing another arrow and letting it fly, hitting each spider as they came with pristine accuracy. Even with such accuracy though from years training, it didn’t seem to be enough. The arrows quickly started to dwindle, before running out. Not having enough time between spiders to scavenge for your arrows, leaving you eventually cornered, and empty handed. Though just as one of the spiders went to launch itself at you it got violently thrown backwards by...an elf?

~~~~~

You couldn’t decide whether you preferred the spiders, or this. Getting dragged, cuffed, towards a rathe impressive looking castle. Not that you’d ever say that allowed, in fear of further angering Thorin who already looked like he was plotting the elves deaths in detail, shouting, swearing and struggling as he went. You kept your head down, not sure what was about to happen, but not wanting to anger the elves, especially after they went out of their way to save their lives. Even if it meant they’d ended up getting dragged to the dungeons. You had graciously been given a cell alone. Given you were the only woman in the group it seemed only fair. You got yourself comfy against the wall, listening to the others chat amongst themselves on what to do, waiting for a quiet moment to bring up what felt like the most important thing to worry about. “Where is Bilbo?” You said, cutting through the whispers. The others immediately went silent at that. He wasn’t among them, you hadn’t seen him since before the spiders. “Maybe he’s doing what he does best, burgling the keys.” Baldin grunted. You just hoped he was right.

All talk of escape was cut off by guards coming down, leading Thorin from his cell to meet the king. When the dungeon door closed behind them all of you sighed. If Thorin was angry, which he was, all hope of doing this civilly was going to be immediately snuffed out by his rage. The wait for Thorin to come back was long, and silent. Talk of escape had died completely as you all waited tensely for him to return. And return he did. His eyebrows furrowed in rage, cursing under his breath as he was pushed back into his cell resulting in a loud bang as his body collided with the floor. No words needed to be spoken for them to know it hadn’t gone well. The already depressing reality hit like a train. Unless a miracle happened. This was it.

~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning to banging against the bars of your cell. You were crumpled against the wall, your back strained from the position you’d slept in. “Get up.” The guard said gruffly, starting to poke you with the sheathed sword to fully wake you up. “Get up!” The demanded again, much more aggressively than previously. You slowly started more your cramped body up off of the floor. The cell door opened and two guards immediately grabbed your arms ad started dragging you out of the dungeon to who knows where. The walk was long and winding, it felt like they were taking you on a confusing route on purpose to make sure you didn’t know the way out. Or maybe the halls really were this confusing, who knows. Either way you eventually arrived at a rather impressive looking door. Large green wooden panels made up the door with large tree roots encasing the doors, twirling around the doors handles.

Someone from the other side opened the doors leading to what seemed to be a throne room, with a tall blonde haired man sat on top, a rather dramatic crown upon his head, adorned with gems and jewels to mimic a berry branch. He watched closely as you were dragged in, forced to kneel down in front of him on the ground. His expression seemed to change from mild annoyance to surprise as you got closer. Now kneeled before him, the man stood, towering over you as he stared down at your face, almost like he didn’t believe it. “Oh, it’s you” He said, relief and sadness laced his voice. His legs seemed to give out under him and kneeled down staring at your face with tears in his eyes. “Oh my dear, how I’ve missed you. I though- I thought you died.” He said, his voice cracking slightly as his hand reached for your cheek, fingertips gently grazing your cheek. You stared at him blankly. Not a flicker of recognition behind your eyes as he acted as if you were supposed to know him. Confusion took over his features at your lack of response. “Calatheil? My blossom, why are you acting like you don’t know me?” Now it was your turn to be confused, “That’s not my name, I’m (Y/N).” You said in response. The man went quiet after that, staring holes into the floor. “But you look like her.” He said, his voice firm, like it was a fact. “That doesn’t mean I am her”

The man went silent again for a moment, anger passing over his face before disappearing. “Of course it does,” He said. “You’ve just forgotten is all.” His words were firm and absolute. “Ill just need to remind you, my poor wife” You looked at him as if he was insane. “But I’m not. I am not your wife, I’m sorry. But I’m not... I wanna go back to my cell now.” The man laughed without humour. “Absolutely not, my wife shouldn’t be around such vermin.” “Do you mean the dwarves?” you asked, going on the defensive, they were your friends, were they odd absolutely, but that didn’t mean you loved them any less. “Of course I do! You’ll be going no where near them ever again. Guards, take her to my room, and do not under any circumstances let her get free!” He ordered, standing up from his crouched position and heading back to his thrown. “And bring me Thorin! I may be inclined to allow his freedom under a condition.” You were once again grabbed by guards and dragged out. “No! I’d rather cells, don’t you dare, I’m not your wife! Let me go!” Your shouts died down as you were dragged further away, thrashing in an attempt of any escape, managing to get one arm free only for more guards to hold you, overpowered once more by the numbers. The struggling silenced to Thranduil as the door shut behind you.

#thranduil x yn #thranduil x wife #thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #the hobbit x yn #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit fan fiction

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shuastar · 1 month ago

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ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ .5 (JWW)

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴋᴇ!ᴡᴏɴᴡᴏᴏ x ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴄʜᴇꜱꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴄ: 19k (holy shit im so sorry) warnings: cursing, angst (but also fluff!!), battle scene (blood and vomit and wounds) ᴀ/ɴ: when i tell you guys that i'm so sorry for the wait, i am SO SORRY for the wait. i think i had like thirteen different deadlines for myself for intertwined but i missed literally every single one how tf;; but it's finally out!!! consider this my very late christmas and new years present for you!! <3 anyways, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ᴘʟꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ <3

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ; ɴᴇxᴛ

Wonwoo

Wonwoo’s Capital estate felt colder in the middle of the winter flurry that sprinkled and twirled white onto the dead grass. His study, usually emblazoned with a warm, crackling fire, though not in use for a while, felt colder under the hiding moon and howling winds outside. A scratchy record player hummed a soft classical piano into the room – his desperate attempt to fill the lonely, crushing silence of his estate.

The study is deathly quiet, save for the faint crackle of the dying fireplace fire, struggling to warm the cold, expansive room. Wonwoo sits at his desk, head bowed and the heels of his palms digging into his eyes. His desk is perpendicular to the empty fireplace, the firewood only holding a couple of smouldering embers of a day-old flame. He stares listlessly at the black ink of the reports on his desk and suddenly, the stack of reports fixated on the edge of his desk seem much more towering than he remembered them to be before he left his estate for the palace. His fingers rest idly, blankly, on the edge of the thick report in front of him, unmoving, as if the words and the numbers on the paper would magically disappear if he rubbed on them hard enough. He sighs as the habitual late-night thoughts creep up and teeths in his brain, eager to divulge more of his darker secrets – more of his deepest desires.

“Fuck,” he whispers into the dimly-lit room, dropping his head into his hands. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his hair sticks up from the hour he spent pulling at it not even minutes prior. He wishes he could do something, say something, transform into something other than Archduke Jeon. Will she accept him then? When he is free of duties he apparently instinctively places higher than the love of his life? Than the one person he is willing to give all of his heart to? Or maybe she would be willing to let him back into her life, into her heart, when he finally comes to terms with his instinctual hierarchy of values?

A sudden rap against the wood of his study door snaps him out of his dejected self-deprecation.

“Who is it?” he croaks, head still buried in his palms.

There is no response except for a drawn-out sigh and the creak of an opening door, followed by the pitter-patter of slippered footsteps. The familiar clang of metal on metal gave away the mystery person’s identity before Wonwoo even raised his head.

“What do you want, Soonyoung?” he mumbles into his hands, eyes closing. He wishes he could fall asleep better. He wishes he could slip into any bed and fall asleep like a newborn baby – maybe wake up with no dreams, no cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck. Instead, he finds himself, increasingly, these days, being held back from sleep because of her. Because every time he closes his eyes, the only thing he can see is your bright smile and all he can hear is the repeat of your laughter that had charmed him and refused to let him go.

He hears the long scrape of a chair against the cold wooden floor as Soonyoung pulls the chair in front of his desk back, slipping into the seat. There is a small slap against the wood as he plops a folder down onto Wonwoo’s desk. The sound borders on giving Wonwoo a blistering headache. Really, he couldn’t do any more reports or numbers or letters or words or anything but her.

“I’ve been going over the training reports,” Soonyoung begins, opening the folder and sifting through the pile of papers haphazardly stacked against each other, “and, you know, I think if we get Seungcheol to double the training hours for Wednesday and Friday so that we can actually get the mana drills in…”

Nothing registers for Wonwoo. It’s as if Soonyoung’s every word slips in through one ear and flows out the other – as if his words are like slippery butter or oil, flowing through his thin neural membrane, and lodging itself in absolutely nothing.

“-And so, if we can-”

Soonyoung suddenly stops mid-sentence, cutting himself off. His eyebrows furrow and he leans forward, head tilting in an amusing angle to stare directly up at Wonwoo’s bowed face. Wonwoo doesn’t even move, eyes just closing as Soonyoung pokes his head.

“You’re unusually depressing tonight. You alright?” he asks. And although his words are laced with a soft sort of teasing, Wonwoo can pick out the concern weaved through Soonyoung’s tone. Soonyoung shuts the folder at Wonwoo’s lack of response. ��I can tell you that you’ve looked better.”

Wonwoo finally lets out a sigh – a long, deep, rib-trembling, bone-shaking sigh. He knows he’s looked better. Hell, he’s felt better. His hand traces a faint line on his desk’s polished surface, decorated with grooves of a frustrated youth trying to manage an abandoned estate after parents’ death. He lets out one slow breath – one that seems to carry a little more weight and hold a little more space than the room itself. It’s heavy as it escapes his mouth.

“What do you want, Soonyoung?” His words leave harsher than he honestly wants them to. But it conveys his ignorance in full respect.

Soonyoung frowns, crossing his arms. “What I want is to know why you look like you haven’t slept in four days.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Mind your own business,” he mutters under his breath, huffing. He knows Soonyoung won’t back down but he wishes he would. “Don’t you have training plans to detail?”

Soonyoung shakes his head, gathering up the papers and the folder in one swift motion. Everything ends up on the floor by Wonwoo’s desk in the next second and Soonyoung leans forward, poking Wonwoo’s bicep, straining against his white shirt.

“Training plans can wait,” Soonyoung hums. When he receives yet another silent response, Soonyoung leans back, gaze softening. “Come on. Stop acting like you’re fine when you very clearly aren’t, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo briefly looks up and he can feel the dryness in his eyes from the number of sleepless days. “I’m completely fine,” he retorts, but his words don’t hold enough power in them. Well, at least not as much as he would like. “Detail the plans, Soonyoung,” he orders, voice hoarse and thick with a lack of sleep.

Soonyoung suddenly laughs, but it’s ironic and broken off. “You’re funny if you think I don’t know you better than that,” he clicks his tongue, “Come on, Wonwoo. Spill.”

Wonwoo can’t help but crack a small ironic smile at how Soonyoung’s words feel more like an order than his. But, in all honesty, he doesn’t want to broach the topic – the topic that has his mind decrescendo into a flurry of disconnected thoughts. The topic that jams a thick round stone into the only opening of his throat and squeezes at the columns of his tear ducts to force out the salty tears from the corners of his eyes.

Wonwoo speaks up, fingers tightly fisting on top of his desk, “I personally think we should get the cavalry-”

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Soonyoung huffs, crossing his arms across his rippling chest. To anyone else, it would’ve seemed like a threat (to bash their heads in), but Wonwoo simply presses his lips together, opting to scribble his signature down onto one of the reports in front of him.

“Wonwoo, come on. Don’t think that I haven’t realized you’ve been sulking for this entire weekend,” Soonyoung tuts, wagging his finger in Wonwoo’s tight face. “More than usual, too,” he adds as an afterthought.

Wonwoo is quiet. He would tell Soonyoung everything if he knew how to phrase it better. Of course he would! Soonyoung is one of the closest friends he has ever had. Soonyoung has seen him hit himself with his own sword during a late-night knight training session and he’s seen him moon and fawn and coddle you when you were still “undisclosed” when attending the Academy. And now-

Shit, don’t fucking cry.

And now, he guesses, Soonyoung was also about to see him cry, if he could correlate the exponential thickness of his throat and burning of his eyes to the oncoming onslaught of tears that he could predict. That and another depressingly self-deprecating monologue about how he fucked up. And it wasn’t even funny because it was true. Truly depressing. Truly, and perfectly, distressing, especially to him. Especially to his love for you. It was amusing, really, to realize that you’ve such an impact on him even after three years of forced distance. Distance brings fondness, at least for him. He wasn’t too sure of you, seeing as how you had yelled at him in the gardens a couple of days back.

Soonyoung is still quiet, simply waiting for Wonwoo to speak up, which is a new development. Soonyoung maintaining his silence, of course, not Wonwoo speaking up.

“I’ve ruined everything.” Wonwoo can feel his jaw tighten at his own words, hands stilling completely on top of the thick piece of parchment. He swallows hard, his already-too-tight throat constricting around the words that he had long-since become accustomed to.

Soonyoung furrows his brows, tilting his head as his concern visibly deepens. “Everything? What do you mean?”

Wonwoo finally fully looks up, and this time, his eyes sting not from his chronic insomnia but from the blockage of emotions that threaten to rise up and overflow over any opening of his face. Soonyoung almost jolts, as if the raw pain in Wonwoo’s eyes was too much to bear at once.

“Everything,” Wonwoo breathes, as if he’s whispering a curse into the silent room. His eyes burn even more and he just knows that they are an inhuman shade of red. He doesn’t want to cry. Especially not in front of Soonyoung. “It’s gone. With her – Y/n, I mean,” he concludes hoarsely. By your name, he feels as though he is forcing every syllable out of his mouth with the effort it takes for something to push a horseless carriage uphill.

“Wait,” Soonyoung rushes to interrupt, leaning forward, “I thought you talked to her? I thought-”

Wonwoo cuts him off with a bitter gasp of a laugh. “I did talk to her,” he admits, voice cracked and words heavy with an unfamiliar sort of defeat, “It doesn’t matter. I told her everything, Soonyoung. I laid my fucking heart in front of her because I thought she would- I felt that if she could just understand my part, my rationale, even, I could have even a sliver of a chance to win her back. But I don’t-” Wonwoo breaks off. He can’t bear to continue. Not when every word he utters feels like a self-inflicted blow of pain – a dig of a sharp, serrated knife that comes in the form of harshly-spoken, hastily-drawn words. “She doesn’t feel the same. Or couldn’t – can’t, I guess. I don’t even know.” His half-monologue ends with a rather anti-climactic flourish and every passing second of silence that treats his words as something to be examined, the more he wants to drink and drink and drink until he passes out. Metaphorically.

Soonyoung is silent for a time (much help), until he finally uncrosses his legs and drums his fingers on his knee. “Are you sure, though?” he swallows at Wonwoo’s look, his arms flying up in defense. “I’m saying, she hasn’t exactly ever been the type to-”

“-She looked at me,” Wonwoo cut Soonyoung off, voice tight as his vocal cords forced the words out of his larynx, “like I was the last thing she ever wanted to deal with. Like I had ruined her life by telling her how I felt. Like I was-”

“-Wonwoo,” Soonyoung sighs, shaking his head as his fingers stilled on his knee. Wonwoo wants to snap at his friend, tell him how he doesn’t understand, how he would never fully understand the underlying torment of having to live with the knowledge that your-

“Wonwoo, what exactly did she say?” Soonyoung asks, eyebrows furrowed and now leaning against the desk.

Good question, Wonwoo thinks to himself. He recounts the words you had thrown at him, desperate for him to leave your life. The words that had sawed through his heartstrings and clipped off the tendons of his sculpted body and had knocked out the bricks of his well-crafted walls one by one, until he was left bare – in all of his diminishing glory – in front of you. Left bare in front of you and shivering in fear, lest you actually let him go.

Soonyoung waits patiently for his response.

Wonwoo finally relents – lets everything go, if only for a moment. “She said to give up on us,” he murmurs, “She said she doesn’t know if she can do it again, that she wants to forget us, that she wants me to stop.” He lets out a puff of apathetic laughter – frigid, detached, bittersweet. “She says that I’m being selfish, Soonyoung,” he finally spits, trying to swallow the thick ball down his unrelenting throat that constricts tighter every second. His hands shake on the desk and he can feel the tears start to gather again in the corners of his eyes. “I was stupid,” he laughs, “I was stupid to think she would– that anything I said would fix my mistakes. That it would return us to…” Wonwoo trails off, eyes misting over as he spots a picture frame, free of any dust, placed on the corner of his desk, “... normal,” he whispers. The word seems final, like he doesn’t expect anything else.

Soonyoung is quiet as he processes Wonwoo’s speech before opening his mouth.

“I think she just needs time, Wonwoo. She’s just scared. I know her, maybe better than you do, now. Whatever you guys had, yeah, sure, it’s over. But this? What you want it to be, that isn’t. Not unless you let it be.” Soonyoung’s voice is steady and confident. So much so that it almost makes Wonwoo believe his words.

“It’s not about giving up,” Wonwoo counters, and he can feel himself choke up. He can feel the words he’s trying to say, die in his narrowed throat. “It’s about–” he clears his throat, eyes burning and ears ringing, “-- about knowing when I can never be what she wants me to be,” he breathes, lips curling into a bitter smile and eyes blinking rapidly as if to clear them of the tears that threaten to fall.

“Wonwoo…”

Wonwoo turns, facing Soonyoung fully now. He can feel the desperate helplessness rip through his entire body. “How,” he whispers, and it feels more like a statement than anything, “am I supposed to continue on with my life when it means absolutely nothing,” he laughs. His head drops and there is a beat of silence before a small plop is heard. Wonwoo sniffs, tears tracing their unfamiliar tracks down his cheeks. “When I can’t live without her again?” His fist suddenly slams against the desk as a sob wracks through him. “I can’t do this anymore, Soonyoung. I need her by my side again.”

Soonyoung’s warm comforting hand finds its place on Wonwoo’s shoulder, slowly patting it. If he is shocked at his friend’s sudden outburst, he doesn’t show it. “I know, I know. And she needs you by her side, Woo.” Soonyoung lets out a soft laugh at Wonwoo’s sniffles and trembling shoulders, which earns him a weak shove of annoyance from Wonwoo, making him stumble back with a louder laugh. “Come on, man. It’s going to be fine. If there’s anything I’ve learned from sending her letters, which you didn’t do–”

Wonwoo cuts him off with a loud groan, voice watered down with his dwindling tears.

Soonyoung grins, slapping his friend on the back. “-- Y/n hasn’t given up on you, no matter what she says. If anything, she wants to be with you as much as you do. You just have to–”

A sudden knock startles both men into confused silence.

Wonwoo’s brows furrow as he and Soonyoung share a look.

Soonyoung gives him a sideways glance and Wonwoo shrugs, wiping at his eyes as he slowly stands up.

“Who is it?” he calls, voice now void of any evidence of tears. His deep tenor carries across his study and through his door.

It is quiet for a second before a rushed voice replies – breathless and pitched.

“Your grace, I am a messenger from the palace! His majesty has sent an urgent message with me. I am to return with your consent by daybreak!”

“From the king?” Wonwoo muses, pushing out from behind his desk.

Soonyoung whistles, brows rising, “Urgent, huh?”

Whatever this is, it isn’t something he wants to deal with tonight, is all he knows. Not any night, really, but especially not after the emotional blockade he just experienced.

“God,” Wonwoo mumbles, sinking into one of the couches, “Just fucking tell him to leave it at the door. I’ll look at it tomorrow,” he mumbles in the general vicinity of Soonyoung.

“I-”

Knock, knock.

“Your grace,” the messenger again, pressing from the other side of the door. The urgency in his voice is unmistakable. “His Majesty has stressed that this requires your immediate attention.”

Soonyoung shoots Wonwoo a pointed look, which Wonwoo shrugs off.

“Are you gonna get that?” Soonyoung huffs, fingers drumming on the wooden surface of Wonwoo’s desk.

Wonwoo lets out a loud groan, head dropping on the back of his couch. “No.”

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Now it sounds much more urgent – like Seungcheol will have the messenger’s head if he didn’t have an answer by daybreak.

“Your grace, I beg your pardon, but this is really of the utmost importance!”

“I think this is really important, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung echoes, brows rising at the desperate knocks on the door.

Wonwoo huffs. He stands, reaching for his discarded robe that sits next to him. As he shrugs on his robe, Soonyoung trails behind him and situates himself against Wonwoo’s desk.

“You can enter,” Soonyoung calls out lazily, earning a well-timed glare from Wonwoo, who is half-way through pushing his arm through the sleeve of his robe.

“Who’s the duke here again?” Wonwoo mutters as the door creaks open, presenting a messenger.

Soonyoung shoots him a cheeky grin, arms crossing as he leans back against the edge of the desk. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Do it with your knights, not with my guests, dumb–”

“--I apologize for my late interruption, your grace!” The messenger greets, bowing deep at his hips, hand resting on his chest. His pale face is ruddy, with splotches of red and pink stark against his skin, from the cold outside.

Wonwoo blinks. Had the Capital messengers always been this enthusiastic with their greetings?

“His Majesty insisted this matter could not wait,” is said quieter, with much less enthusiasm.

“Yes, well…” Wonwoo trails off, noticing the envelope the messenger grips in his hand. He clears his throat. “What is it that His Majesty deemed appropriate to send at this hour?” Really, if it was Seungcheol, it would probably be an invitation to a ball of some sorts. But the way Soonyoung stares at the envelope, the way the messenger quivers under his stare, hints at something more. And it makes his stomach churn. It makes his eyes dart from Soonyoung to the envelope to the messenger in a fast triangle, brows furrowing as the messenger stumbles over his words.

“Your grace, I apologize for disturbing you but I was ordered to deliver this message directly,” the messenger repeats, hands trembling.

Wonwoo sighs, his patience already thinning. “Deliver the message, then leave,” he says, voice flat and uninterested. Really, he could think of thirteen other things he could be doing right about now.

From behind him, Soonyoung stifles a laugh.

However, the messenger hesitates, clearly unnerved by Wonwoo’s piercing words. “I- I apologize, but His Majesty has requested a response by tonight.”

“Tonight?” Wonwoo’s brow furrows and he hears Soonyoung push off of the desk, footsteps light against the wood as he pads over to him. “His Majesty is well aware that my estate takes at least three hours from the palace. Surely whatever this is can wait until sun-up.” He gestures towards the crinkled envelope in the messenger’s hand. “Let me see it and you may return to the palace. I will send a message to His Majesty if I see fit.”

The messenger hands over the letter, hands shaking. Wonwoo can feel Soonyoung’s peeping eyes stare at the envelope in his hands as he breaks the wax seal with a sharp flick.

“What is this about anyways?” Soonyoung suddenly asks, admittedly too bored of waiting for Wonwoo to unfold the parchment out of the envelope in silence.

“I-”

“-Quiet,” Wonwoo cuts off both the messenger and Soonyoung with his snapped word. As his eyes scan the unfolded parchment, inked with delicate cursive, his jaw tightens with every line.

This is ridiculous.

Wonwoo can physically feel the world around him crumble. He can feel the blood draining from his face and his teeth grinding together.

He can’t do this.

He can’t fucking do this.

Not again. Not after everything.

“What? What is it?” Soonyoung asks, stepping closer to try to read the letter.

Wonwoo allows Soonyoung to read perhaps one word before the parchment is fisted into a ball in his hand. The thick paper folds surprisingly well under his grip. He tosses the ball onto his desk, followed by the envelope.

“He’s summoning me north,” he says. The words feel like a punch to his gut as he utters them outloud. It’s one thing to read them and another to confirm them from your own mouth. There is not even room to argue. It’s the king, for fuck’s sake. He can’t argue. What Seungcheol says, goes. And he must know. Of course he knows – about you, about him, about them. So why? Why, why, why, why, fucking why?

“Again?” Soonyoung frowns. Even he looks disappointed.

Wonwoo wants to laugh. He wants to rip apart the note and throw it into his dwindling fireplace. He wants to strangle the messenger until this ghastly note disappears itself. He wants to laugh and cry and scream and throw up all at the same time because why. Why was it that every time he tries to right things, tries to make an effort, tries to keep things in the status quo, something comes up to ruin it? To shred it into the tiniest, microscopic pieces and dump it onto the floor for him to clean up?

“Wonwoo?”

“Yes,” Wonwoo replies, word clipped. “There’s a threat. He’s most generously decided that I’m the one to handle it.”

Soonyoung leans against one of the high-backed couches, arms crossed. “He has other commanders. I can go by myself. Why you?”

“Because it always has to be me,” Wonwoo mutters bitterly, a frustrated hand running through his hair. He turns to the messenger and he can’t help how tense he sounds. Not when he feels like there is a rope that is slowly choking him. “Tell His Majesty I will respond in the morning. You can leave with my answer then.”

In any other situation, the speed in which the messenger’s eyes widen would be comical. Wonwoo’s too immersed in his own mind to notice. “But your grace–!”

“--I don’t care,” Wonwoo interrupts. His voice rises unconsciously. “I’ve had enough for one fucking evening. Stay in the guest quarters if you must, but you will leave with my response tomorrow at first light.” Then, almost as an habitual ironic afterthought, “Dismissed.”

The messenger, though Wonwoo can see the hesitation in his eyes, nods at his command. He bows hastily, back-stepping out of the room. “As you wish, your grace.”

The door clicks shut behind him.

Wonwoo leans against his desk heavily, fingers fisted atop the dark polished wood. The room is silent, save for the dying fire and Wonwoo’s sharp exhales that sound more like sobs than sighs.

Soonyoung sucks in a breath. “Seungcheol really knows how to pick his moments and stun a man.”

Wonwoo laughs. It’s bitter – so much so that it almost startles him. “That–” he chuckles, gesturing vaguely at the door as his frustrations spills over into his words, “is the exact fucking problem he has. He doesn’t pick and choose, he creates them whenever it’s fucking convenient for him,” he hisses, eyes closing. He can’t do this tonight. If he thinks about this for one more second, he feels as though he’ll snap.

Soonyoung sighs. “You’re mad.”

Wonwoo’s eyes snap open, head tilting almost psychopathically as his brows furrow. “Of course, I’m mad!” he snaps. His hand comes down against his desk in a loud echoing slap! and he pushes himself off his desk, starting a pace back and forth. “Every time– every single fucking time – I try to focus on my life, my choices, my–” he cuts himself off, jaw tightening at the name that dies in his throat, “He pulls me back in like I’m some sort of pawn. If it’s not the north, it’s the title. If not the title, then the crown. If not the crown, then some other fucking thing in the nation that I frankly don’t give a clown’s ass about! It’s always something.”

Soonyoung runs a hand through his hair like he’s debating on whether to indulge Wonwoo in his rant. He indulges: “You have to understand, though, Seungcheol’s a king. His priorities are to the kingdom. He can’t help that.”

Wonwoo comes to a skidding stop, turning on his friend with a piercing glare that makes Soonyoung regret what he says almost immediately. “And me? What about what’s best for me? For her? If Seungcheol’s all happy-go-lucky brother-figure in her life, why doesn’t he think about her?” His voice drops to a bitter mutter as he continues, unaware of how disheveled he looks with red eyes and fly-away hair. “He doesn’t care. He never has.”

“You know that’s not true.”

Wonwoo scoffs. It’s loud and echoes through the room. He wants to cry. He wants to sit on the floor and hug his knees to himself and just cry. Not go to war. Not fight in battles that were frankly not his to begin with. “Isn’t it?” he breathes, opening his arms wide. “He sends me off to fight in his battles while he plays Society host. He tears me away from everything I’ve ever wanted, cared about, and I just take it. Like some rich owner’s lap dog, expected to just smile and bow and salute and say Yes, your majesty, like I’m worth only what my fucking sword has to offer!” Wonwoo’s voice is tense with emotion as he all but yells the last few words out. He can feel the hot tears down his cheeks again and he hates it. He hates it and hates it with all his heart. His shoulders heave and shake as he catches his breath. He finds himself face-to-face with the stones of his fireplace mantel. His fingers grip the edges like he is steadying himself. “I’m so fucking sick of this,” he whispers, words barely audible. But it echoes. It echoes the loudest.

Soonyoung crosses the room, a warm hand on his shoulders, grounding him. “Wonwoo,” he starts, and Wonwoo just knows he’s going to say something smart and understanding and reasonable, “If you’re this angry, tell him. Don’t just sit here and brood in your self-pity. You’re first and foremost his friend, not his servant. Seungcheol’ll listen if you-”

“-- Would he?” Wonwoo interrupts, facing Soonyoung. He takes in how Soonyoung’s eyes rake over his face, taking in the tears, the blushed cheeks, the bite of his lip. “ It feels like all I ever do is follow orders. A sword to wield, an archduke to parade, an asset to marry off. And then a friend, in some cases.”

He knows, he’s being too harsh. He’s known Seungcheol for at least twenty years. It’s not like this is old news. He knows Seungcheol’s duty to the country will always override anything. Even his love for Mingyu, his own brother. And he knows it’s not done maliciously, especially not to people in his circle. But sometimes – sometimes – his words feel like a snow storm just ripped through your entire life and uprooted every single memory from the malleable ground.

“You’re more than that.”

“I know.”

“You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond, instead turning back towards the dying flame.

“It feels like time’s always fleeing, Soon,” Wonwoo whispers, forehead meeting the cool stones of the mantel. The childhood nickname is nostalgic on his tongue. “I need more.”

“Then start chasing it. If you need more, start chasing for more.”

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

There is a profound feeling of desperation and sadness in a leaving dawn, Wonwoo decides. The dawn of today feels too cruel – a biting cold that settles too deep in his chest. It feels heavier than the steam of his breath in the cold morning air and heavier than the icy icicles and thick sheen of snow that clung to the cobblestones and the rooftop gargoyles. Around him, horses hoof at the stones beneath their feet. Perhaps they are as desperate as him to not leave the safety, the warmth, the longing of the Capital. Or maybe they’re just hungry. Either way, Wonwoo feels a pang of relation (though short-lived when his horse nudges against him), with the horses.

Clangs of metal fill the royal courtyard as the royal knights, under the command of Soonyoung (really, if not for his uniform, no one would guess for him to be the Commander-in-Chief), and the Northern Knights, under the command of himself, busy themselves with the final preparations. Soonyoung loiters by his side, already mounted on his horse and (im)patiently waiting for his subordinates to finish tightening useless straps on their horses’ harness. But even Wonwoo could see how his usually cheerful nature is subdued.

Time seems to slow as the sun rolls along its usual path along its sky route, painting even the shadows of the royal courtyard a magnificent display of golds, reds, and oranges. The knights grunt as they mount their horses and some clamber onto military carriages that hold supplies for the next who-knows-how-long stay in the North.

Soonyoung yells something out from next to him.

The horses jostle and neigh before the first line starts to trot across the courtyard and out the wrought-iron gates of the palace.

But Wonwoo couldn't move.

He sits rigidly on his horse, gaze locked in on the silent castle and its closed wooden doors, guarded by no one at this hour. It’s always the same, he thinks. Every time he thinks he can finally stay, every time he promises to stay, every time he thinks he can finally put her first, duty to the crown always tears him away. Far away. To the North, far away. And the ending is always the same. She’ll get a letter from either him or Soonyoung (whoever's letter reaches her first), and she will have to stay alone, frightfully along, battling something he was unable to help with again, as he fought to the inch of his death in some random Northern county to protect an inconsequential-yet-tremendous border.

His fists clench tighter around the reins as her words, her face, her trembling bottom lip fills his mind.

You just leave, Wonwoo. Again and again.

And he had shaken his head no. He had promised her, with tears and determination in his eyes, that he would stay.

No. No, you have to believe me, I won’t.

Yet here he was, ironically.

Yet here he was, breaking that promise like the others he had broken (unknowingly) before it. And it wasn’t even the leaving part. It was the inevitable cyclical nature of hope and heartbreak of your relationship. Every chance he had with you seemed somehow destined to crumble and shatter under the weight of some other letter or some ill-fated re-commission into the battle fields he had thought he had left behind the prior campaign.

And he just couldn’t fucking escape.

He wonders, briefly, if you were even at the palace. He wonders if the messenger is currently running through the palace hallways, trying to locate your room to deliver his letter. He wonders if it was enough – his explanation, of course. His futile attempt at explaining his situation, his rise to duty (again) and how if it weren’t for the official commission, he would have never left. His futile attempt at convincing her that he would stay had ended the same too, though. He wonders if she had ever sat in her sitting room, against that windowsill by her fireplace, quietly hoping for his return from this godforsaken battlefield.

“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung calls softly. It breaks the suffocating quiet. “We have to go.” He says it more as an order.

An unamused laugh escapes Wonwoo’s mouth. He can’t help it. This entire situation feels like a series of dreadfully unfortunate events on his part.

“I can’t,” he whispers, voice barely audible to even his own ears. He is rigid on his horse and his hands seem frozen in place on the reins. The leather of his gloves creak under the strain as his fists tighten. He feels his horse shift from foot to foot, sensing his unease.

Soonyoung turns his horse to face him. His brows are furrowed and there is a brief pang of guilt in the shallow part of Wonwoo’s heart at the concern written all over his friend’s face.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t?’” Soonyoung asks, blinking. “You have to. You don’t have a choice.”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenches and his eyes squeeze shut. His words feel like they are forced out of his throat, “Don’t tell me things I already know,” he mutters. He swallows. He can feel the uncomfortable ball of frustration that he seems to be increasingly familiar with at the back of his throat. Jesus. “I promised her, Soonyoung,” he spits out, and he can feel his emotions (in the form of reluctant tears) rise up to the surface, “I promised her I wouldn’t leave again.” He heaves out a sigh that sounds like it is ripped from his lungs. “I promised. She had my word.”

Soonyoung’s reply didn't come immediately. Quite frankly, Wonwoo did not need it to come immediately. The weight of his friend’s silence was heavy enough. Enough for Wonwoo to know what Soonyoung would say.

“I’m so fucking delusional to think-” Wonwoo cuts himself off as his throat tightens. If he continues, he knows that he’s going to cry – dissolve into a mess of tears again. Except this time, it would be exponentially more embarrassing to shed a few tears in front of five thousand of his men. But his eyes linger on the castle doors. As if his sheer force of will could make her appear on the palace steps, waiting for him in the cold as the snow flurried down around him and his knights. As if just simply staring at the wooden door in front of him could move her from her slumber and into his arms so that he could say one last goodbye before he breaks her heart again. Just like he always does.

Please come out.

His eyes widen just a fraction as the door creaks open.

His face drops when it is only a messenger, a bag slung over his thick coat and still in the process of pulling his hat down over his mess of hair.

The gates shut tight behind him. The castle is silent once again.

There is a sound of horse hooves behind him and Wonwoo knows his men are getting increasingly restless. They don’t want to ride up north any more than he does. Some of them have wives, most of them have more tethering responsibilities like sisters, brothers, parents, and family businesses.

He wants to laugh at himself. It took only one month and two weeks in the Capital for him to forget this feeling of helplessness when he left – when he left you behind. It was like he was twenty one again, leaving for the first time, not knowing he wouldn’t step foot back into the protected walls of Society for three years. Not knowing that he wouldn’t see your face again for another tormenting three years. He wishes you could come out. He wishes he could stay a little longer – just until the sun is fully in the sky and the church towers blare their bells. But dawn is a picky little thing, and the glowing orb in the sky has already raced past his time of leave.

“Sir.” A knight. “Your grace, we need to leave now in order to make it on time to the northern camp. It’s already past dawn, sir,” he states.

Wonwoo sighs, loosening the grip he had on his reins. “I know, Lim, I know.”

“C’mon, Wonwoo. Let’s head out,” Soonyoung says softly, handing him a fur hat with a grin that doesn’t really reach his eyes. Wonwoo cracks a smile, though shaky, as he pulls it on.

With a shaky breath, the winter wind whistling in his ears, Wonwoo tugs his reins, turning his horse towards the open gates.

“Let’s go.”

It’s not an order. Rather, it’s more of a statement – something that he convinces himself he should be doing: following orders. It is his duty. The longer he waits in the falling snow for someone who he knows will not magically appear, the longer the road to the north becomes. As his men start trotting out of the palace gates, his body jerks as his horse follows suit, leading him (unwillingly) further away from the palace.

Soonyoung sighs from next to him. “You’re not leaving because you want to. Y/n knows the kind of man – the kind of person you are. She’ll understand.” His words, supposed to be comforting, only leave Wonwoo with a heavier heart. He wishes he could argue against Soonyoung’s words. Tell him that he’s not sure if she would understand after everything he forced her to endure by herself. He had failed her so many times – to stay, to protect, to shield her – that every time he tried to find a way to fix everything, the world found some threshold way to pull him away.

As their horses move through the gates and the iron-wrought lock clicks in place, Soonyoung gives him a sideways glance that Wonwoo pretends he doesn’t see.

“What are you thinking about?” comes Soonyoung’s question.

“Nothing,” is Wonwoo’s one-word answer that he knows Soonyoung won’t believe.

And he doesn’t.

“Liar,” Soonyoung laughs as they pick up the pace, now galloping against the snow-covered road that leads to the edges of the capital and into the north. The sound of hooves against the well-paved Capital roads ring in their ears and their coats fly behind them as the snow falls faster in harder flurries.

Wonwoo’s eyes sting. First from the wind rushing into them. And then from the ache in his chest that swelled until it felt unbearable. His breath hitches with every gallop and thud of his horse’s hooves against the road that slowly turns more worn and uneven. With every shaking breath he inhales and as the cold whipped at his eyes and cheeks and nose, his vision went blurry. Blurry and blurry and blurry until his breaths suddenly come out in hitched sobs and his cheeks are wet and warm with salty tears. He wills it to stop as he brushes a furious hand over his eyes. From the corner of his eye, he can see Soonyoung stare at him as they race across the outskirts of the Capital.

“You okay?” Soonyoung’s voice cuts through everything – his thoughts, the wind, his tears.

Wonwoo nods, blinking back the rest of his tears that threaten to fall. “Fine.”

Soonyoung’s shrug is followed by a sigh, “Whatever you say, man. Just don’t fall off your horse.”

“Fucking face forward.”

Soonyoung’s laugh, head tilted back and teeth shining, brings a smile, though reluctant to his own lips. And for a second, he has hope that when he returns, they will be okay.

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

The sound Wonwoo hates the most is the sound of ripping flesh. The sound of burning buildings. The sound of destruction that surrounds and encaptures the air around the event. It brings forward a devastation that people would think impossible until they lay eyes on it themselves. A sound that even he thought was impossible until his third day in the military campaign, three-ish years ago, fighting not far from this very battleground. A sound that would haunt him even in his sleep, paired with the blur-inducing image of a knight under his command, crumpled to the ground, a glinting spearhead shining from the small of his back and blood slowly pooling out of his mouth: instant death.

The smell Wonwoo hates the most is the smell of blood-curdling iron. The bitter smell of warm blood that pools with mines of iron that hit the inside of his nose with a sharp knife. The smell of sharp blood that hits the inside of his nose and pokes and prods his malleable brain. That assaults his eyes that have seen things worse than a simple wound. But it’s a gushing wound. A gushing, tearing, irony wound that he sees in front of him. And he can feel the gag and bile rise to his mouth, which he swallows back down in a desperate attempt to seem calm.

And imagine his own surprise when, suddenly, he hears the haunting sound of ripping flesh and smells the overwhelming odor of warm blood hit his senses, followed by a searing, blinding, sharp pain in his shoulder.

The battlefield is chaos. Not only this one, but all and every one he has been to. In this one, the snow is almost blinding and the clash of steel and courageous men fill everyone’s ears. Wonwoo can barely feel the cold. This is the final battle. If he wins, there is no more war. At least, not supposed to be. If he wins, there is no more fighting the nation’s battles. If he wins–

Suddenly, everything moves in slow motion: like he is watching himself from another screen or like he is reading a book about himself.

The sharp whistle of something cutting through the air is his single warning. It gloats past his ear like a little child who stole your candy without you realising. The next warning is not as much of a warning as it is a promise. A promise of something akin to death?

Wonwoo turns, but – ah – too late. The pain he expects – more painful than he thought, actually – erupts in a flowering and deep maroon bloom in his shoulder as the weapon (a spear, he finds) strikes. It’s his fault, he guesses, that he had chosen today to be the day he forgoes armor. He’s always worked better without armor. His weakness, he realizes, a little too late.

The spear lodges itself in his shoulder with a sickening force. His breath hitches, eyes blurring over as the shock of the weapon’s blow steals his balance. He staggers as he feels his flesh rip and the iron assault his nose. One of his hands instinctively goes up and grips the shaft of the spear.

God…

His legs give out and he finds himself kneeled over, sword embedded in the ground and a long ass spear sticking out of his shoulder. At least it wasn’t his right one.

“Wonwoo!”

Y/n?

Ah, no.

He can very clearly, at least, see Soonyoung running through the clamor and chaos of the remaining bits and pieces of a retreating force (when had they started winning?). Soonyoung sounds awfully panicked and concerned as the knight fully jumps off his horse and starts sprinting the rest of the way to Wonwoo. There is a momentary pang of fulfillment – because who wouldn’t want their best friend running to their side in a time of need – before the sharper pain of the goddamn spear claws its way into his nerve endings.

“Wonwoo! You-”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen as Soonyoung leans over him. In an almost habitual instinct, his right arm shoots out, the flat edge of his sword meeting another metal. At the sudden attack, Soonyoung whips around, sword already in hand, and makes quick work of the rest of the problem.

The man is dead on the ground in ten seconds flat.

Wonwoo chuckles, every breath bringing tears to his eyes. The pain is sharper now as cries and shouts of victory fill up the barren, frozen, bloody valley. He goes to rise but immediately sways on his feet. His vision swims dangerously and the edges of his world suddenly darken.

“Wonwoo, fuck, what happened to you?” Soonyoung rushes out and Wonwoo isn’t too sure if it’s the effect of the blood loss, the cold, or the spear sticking out of his shoulder, but his ears ring and he can barely decipher what Soonyoung says.

“You’re funny,” Wonwoo laughs out, stumbling into Soonyoung’s steadying hands that make quick work of inspecting his body.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Soonyoung mutters (Wonwoo thinks it’s mostly to himself), as he sharply whistles for his horse. “Why is the fact that you look whiter than snow and have a fucking spear sticking out of your shoulder funny?”

Wonwoo accepts Soonyoung’s slinging of his good arm over his shoulder, dragging him over to his horse that had come to a light trot in front of them.

Wonwoo clenches down on his teeth so hard he thinks they’ll break when Soonyoung helps him onto the horse. For a second, he thinks he’s going to black out. If someone had ever told him getting hurt would hurt this bad, he would’ve never become a knight. God.

“Is the spearhead through the back?” Wonwoo asks instead, and at his own words, he’s instantly much more aware of the long stick poking out the front of his shoulder.

Soonyoung hitches himself up behind him. “Yeah. Don’t talk.”

“Ha!” Wonwoo laughs (or tries to). But it’s empty. He can feel the bile rise in his throat again. He doesn’t have the strength to swallow it down this time. The horse whinnies and neighs as he throws up onto the right, his shoulder throbbing at another beat to his slowly slowing heart. He can’t help the tears that flow down his cheeks and the remnants of his undigested breakfast make its way up from his stomach and into the open. He can’t help the choked gasps and groans of pain either. Neither can he do anything when he feels Soonyoung’s warm hand on his back, right under the wound, and a foreign pressure against the wound itself – like someone had grabbed the spearhead.

A grunt of exertion and the same tearing of flesh.

A clatter of metal and wood.

A shout of pain (from his part not anything else).

A gush of blood that coats the back of the horse and dribbles to the ground.

And then a blinding pressure against the wound.

“Stay awake!” Soonyoung yells right in his ear. Wonwoo feels a sharp slap against his cheek but his eyes are fluttering shut. Soonyoung should’ve never pulled out that goddamn spear.

“You-” Another shout of paint interrupts Wonwoo’s own words as the horse starts accelerating into a gallop and Soonyoung applies more pressure against the wound. “Fuck, take it easy.”

Wonwoo’s head lolls against Soonyoung's shoulder. And he realizes that this is the first time he’s ridden side-saddle. It’s exceptionally uncomfortable, and not just because he’s gushing blood.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re losing blood.” Soonyoung’s words sound so much like an order it actually makes him shut up.

He barely registers Soonyoung’s yell to return back to main camps and someone to ride ahead of them to notify the medics of the wounded. He also barely registers someone coming up behind him and tightly wrapping his shoulder until he feels the blood slow to an occasional dribble. Perhaps the cold helps clot his blood. He doesn’t really know.

He and Soonyoung have already been riding for at least five minutes before he actually realizes that the horse has started moving again. And when he does, each bump and gallop on a different leg jolts pain up his body and into his shoulder. He can’t imagine what he looks like now – bloody, teary, gasping oxygen into his lungs as he leans against his best friend who holds him close to his chest. It’s a weird feeling.

“Tell her…” Wonwoo gasps, the words leaving him before he can think them through, “I didn’t mean…” another gasp, “to leave.” His voice breaks at the end when the horse suddenly jumps over a fallen tree.

“You tell her yourself,” Soonyoung snaps. Wonwoo’s unsure if he’s angry at him, at the horse, or at his wound. Perhaps all three?

As the ride lengthened, the packed snow slowing the horse down, Wonwoo’s breaths turn more shallow and uneven, and he knows Soonyoung can feel his warm, wet, sticky blood seeping through his gloves.

“Hah,” Wonwoo swallows but his mouth feels disgustingly dry, “Y/n,” he mutters, “should’ve stayed… should’ve–” his voice fades out, replacing itself with a broken mumble of words even he cannot make out.

“Stop fucking talking,” Soonyoung hisses and Wonwoo can clearly hear the tremble of worry in his friend’s voice. Soonyoung’s grip around him tightens. It’s rather comforting to know at least one person doesn’t want him to kneel over and die.

But for some reason, his lips cannot make out anything else except her name – like a prayer. Or a plea of some sorts. Like some lifeline that tethers him to the current world. “Y/n… doesn’t know… I–” a pained groan interrupts him again and he feels the tether slowly loosen in his grasp.

The next time he regains consciousness, they’ve arrived at main camp, medics crowding Soonyoung’s horse as Soonyoung tries to help lower Wonwoo onto some sort of stretcher cot thing. He feels the burning sensation of the rubbing alcohol against his wound as the medics clean his wound.

“...not taken out the spear, Sir!”

“I-!”

“-See?” Wonwoo laughs, face scrunching in pain and eyes screwing closed as the rubbing alcohol meets his shoulder again. “Told you it was a bad fucking idea. Now I’m gonna die and–”

“--Okay! When I told you to shut the fuck up, I meant for you to shut the fuck up entirely. Not only when you please, smartass!” Soonyoung snaps, and Wonwoo doesn’t even mind his friend’s raised voice. He deserves it, anyways.

Wonwoo opens his mouth to retaliate, only for a scream of pain to be ripped from the confines of his throat when the medics pour something all over his wound and turn him to the side. Wonwoo’s breaths come out in desperate pants and he feels his heart start to race when his vision quickly closes around the world, blackening the edges of his sight too quickly for his liking.

And before he can even say anything, he finds his eyes fluttering shut and his body going limp, followed by a prick in his arm that barely registers. Well, compared to the gaping hole in his shoulder anyway.

Soonyoung

War camps are usually grim. More when people lose, but it’s grim. The scent of iron and burning wood always lingers in the cold air and the sterile odors of rubbing alcohol and medical ointment always burns itself into the grooves of your brain by the end of the campaign. And you have to enter a war campaign, yes, with hope, but you also have to brace yourself for the worst. Like losing family. Or friends, for that matter. Except, when that time actually comes, or when you think that time will come, you’re never ready. Of course you aren’t. Because who’s ready to see their best friend fall to his knees with a giant fucking spear lodged in his shoulder.

God, when Soonyoung first saw Wonwoo stumble and fall, he had thought the spear had hit Wonwoo’s chest. Or some more important organ in his body. He saw Wonwoo’s life flash before his eyes.

It’s a dangerous combination: worry, concern, and panic. It muddles your brain and makes you do stupid things like pull the said spear out of your best friend’s shoulder to leave a huge gaping wound and then get berated over the entire action when you reach the medical tents at main camp because apparently you’re not supposed to do that?

But still.

The medical tent is, unusually, quite empty. Empty, considering all the casualties the order had this time around. God, right. The casualty reports. He had completely forgotten in the midst of this mess.

“Sir, will you be glaring over our shoulders the entire night?” Yewon asks. Her pretty brown eyes flutter up to Soonyoung as her hands still over Wonwoo’s open wound, half-stitched. The other medics nod in support of her question.

“I was not glaring,” is his reply. His arms cross as he leans against a pillar. To the right of him is the stainless steel medical trolley containing the rubbing alcohol bottles, some weird-smelling dark ointment, surgical thread and needles, and Wonwoo’s dark red bandages that were only thirty minutes old.

Yewon laughs. If she wasn’t working in this campaign, Soonyoung would have thought of courting her, except she was working in this campaign and she was conveniently working directly under him. All the more reason to start glaring.

“Sir, quite frankly, you’re making the newer nurses nervous.”

“Not you?”

“No, definitely not.”

“Then, not my fault if they can’t work under pressure.”

“Not pressure, Sir, but constant scrutiny?”

“Same thing.”

“Definitely not–”

A groan coming from Wonwoo’s mouth cut them both off. Yewon glances at Soonyoung like he had something to do with Wonwoo waking up earlier than planned from his herb-anesthesia-induced slumber. Soonyoung shrugs, instead moving closer to Wonwoo.

He looks bad. He doesn’t think he’s seen Wonwoo this bad since the one Knighting Duel when Wonwoo got dagger-stabbed in his thigh. But even that was just a nick to him. This wound has his hair matted with cold sweat and head lolled to the side. His lips move in unfamiliar words.

“Y/n.”

Soonyoung scoffs, “For God’s sake, Wonwoo.”

He repeats her name, voice hoarse and weak. The sound is so quiet Soonyoung almost doesn’t register it, but by Wonwoo’s third repetition, Soonyoung knows everyone has heard.

Yewon clears her throat, diverting her gaze, “He’s delirious. It’s common with wounds like this. He’ll be in and out for a while.”

As if his utter infatuation with y/n is a common herb-induced delusion. Ha.

Soonyoung decides not to comment on Yewon’s words, instead brows furrowing. He nods, dragging a chair over to Wonwoo’s cot to actually hear the broken words slipping from his delirious friend who is hopelessly in love. It’s a surprisingly good combination, deliriousness and being in love.

“She hates me,” Wonwoo slurs, face twisting with pain. Soonyoung tongues the inside of his cheek as Wonwoo’s fingers twitch weakly against the blanket. “I promised,” Wonwoo gasps, “swear I didn’t mean to leave her.”

Soonyoung can feel his chest tightening. It hurts him more, Soonyoung thinks, that Wonwoo’s relationship with Y/n had always been a relationship that was meant to be but just started at the wrong time. Soonyoung knew. Of course he did. He had grown up in the Capital with the royal family and the high classes of Society. He had attended the National Academy with Wonwoo, Joshua, Mingyu, and Y/n. He had been one of the only people who had seen firsthand how Y/n and Wonwoo’s relationship had blossomed, only to fracture, shatter, stumble under the weight of everlasting duty and simple circumstance. And now, hearing Wonwoo talk only about the woman he had always loved was almost too much to bear. For the first time in his life, Soonyoung felt something akin to pity for his best friend.

“She hates me.”

Soonyoung scoffs, leaning back against his chair. “You’re an idiot, Wonwoo,” he mutters, though it’s more to himself than anything.

Wonwoo’s head turns slightly to the side as if he’s looking for something.

Ah.

Someone.

Wonwoo’s brows furrow and his voice cracks at the pain of the slight movement. “Will she take me back?” he whispers, eyes fluttering open just briefly. They’re glassy and unfocused, staring into the depths of the flapping canvas of the tent. “Soonie,” he mumbles, and Soonyoung sits up at the nickname, “do you think…” a gasp of breath, “she’ll forgive me?”

Soonyoung doesn’t answer immediately. He can’t. His throat tightens. For a moment, there is nothing he knows to say. He had seen Y/n’s heartbreak, her anger directed at both herself and Wonwoo, and her attempts to move on. He had been the one who had sent her letters of the three year war campaign and Wonwoo’s condition – though she never asked for it – every week. But he had also seen Wonwoo’s side. He had seen his midnight insomniac strolls, no matter how cold the weather was. He had seen Wonwoo’s body-wracking sobs as he woke up from a nightmare of losing his parents all over again. He had seen Wonwoo’s decision to never move on from his childhood love and how he had tried everything to return to the Capital. Soonyoung was the recipient of Wonwoo’s late night musings of perhaps living with Y/n in his Capital estate in the future and helping her tend to the garden and buying her whatever she wants.

“She’s mad,” Wonwoo rasps (as if he knew what Y/n is feeling at the very moment), and Soonyoung bites his lip at the tears pooling in his friend’s eyes. “She should be.” Wonwoo’s voice breaks and he turns his head away, body trembling under the layers of blanket. Soonyoung isn’t too sure if it’s from the pain or from the cold. “I just keep leaving,” Wonwoo mumbles, eyes squeezing tight, “I always leave.”

Soonyoung sighs, leaning forward to grasp his friend’s hand that twitches on top of his stomach. “Wonwoo,” he says softly, squeezing Wonwoo’s hand, “Stop tearing yourself apart. Your first thought when you’re near-death should be more about staying alive for her rather than if she’s mad at you for leaving. Focus on surviving. I swear she’ll be furious if you croak.”

But true to Wonwoo fashion, he doesn’t seem to hear Soonyoung’s words. “I’ll write her. Tell her,” Wonwoo lets out a low groan of pain. Maybe the herbs were wearing off? “I’m sorry. So so so sorry,” he murmurs, the words slurring together. Soonyoung can only watch as a single tear traces down a track from the corner of Wonwoo’s eyes, down to his cheek, before rolling into the pillow.

Soonyoung clenches his jaw. It’s not every day you see your best friend cry. Except, he will say, he had seen Wonwoo cry more in the span of the past two months than in the three years he was with Wonwoo during the war campaign. Soonyoung grips the edge of the cot. “You’re not dying, okay?” He says. He hopes it’s firm enough to snap Wonwoo out of whatever self-deprecating shithole he’s floundered himself into. “You’re not dying. You’ve got too many fucking problems to fix. If you want to apologize, Y/n’ll hear your apology from your own goddamn lips.”

Soonyoung almost laughs when Wonwoo doesn’t respond, his body, Soonyoung guesses, finally succumbing to the pull of sheer exhaustion and pain. Soonyoung watches as Wonwoo’s chest slows to a steady rise and fall, though it remains obviously shallow, and his face relaxes into an uneasy sort of calm.

Slowly, Soonyoung rises from his seat, pulling one of Wonwoo’s blankets further up his naked chest until it sits right below his wound. If Wonwoo returns to the Capital injured and sick, he would never hear the end of it from Y/n.

“Sir?”

Soonyoung turns, coming face-to-face with Yewon, who looks more exhausted than she did a while ago. That’s what war does, he guesses.

“Keep him alive,” Soonyoung orders, voice harsher than he intends. But Yewon, nor the other medics, flinch. “I don’t give a flying fuck what it takes. Keep that man alive.”

He doesn’t stay to hear any of the medics’ responses, instead stepping outside the sterile-smelling tent. When the cold air blasts his face, he exhales. It’s heavy and thick in his chest.

His fingers drum on his thigh as the sudden memories of Y/n crying during one of his visits to the Capital flood his mind. He laughs to himself at the memory. The week before, he had written to Y/n (well, to Seungcheol, but it had happened that Y/n had also read it), that Wonwoo had sustained a large gash while fighting further up north near the border, and that he had to get stitches for his wound. He was basically asking if Wonwoo could return to the Capital for a proper medical check. Technically, if Soonyoung was honest, the gash wasn’t bad. Wonwoo had barely lost significant blood and he was fine. More than fine, actually, since that day, he had been out fighting with the rest of the knights, but Wonwoo seemed so miserable without the Capital (read: Y/n), that Soonyoung either needed to send him back to the city or make him shut up.

He distinctly remembers Y/n running up to him with tears in his eyes, asking if Wonwoo was okay, if he was alive. He also distinctly remembers her forcing out a sigh of relief with the words “I don’t know what I would’ve done if things went wrong,” leaving her mouth.

Soonyoung had never experienced love like that, but if whatever between Y/n and Wonwoo wasn’t the purest sort of love, he wasn’t sure what to base “love” off of. He had firsthand seen how her eyes softened when she spoke of Wonwoo. Even after everything.

So, Soonyoung didn’t have the heart to tell Y/n about this yet. Not until he was sure Wonwoo would make it conscious and upright to the Capital. But one thing was distinctly clear: if Wonwoo had been fighting for anyone, it wasn’t for the nation or his Archduke title.

It was for her. Her and her only.

y/n

“My lady! My lady!”

You turn from your seat at the windowsill, watching the snow fall in flurries to cover your garden. Nai comes running into your room, and when you see the waving letter in her hands, your heart thumps to a halting stop in your chest. Your blink rapidly.

“Nai?”

You stand, dusting off your dress in faux calm. You feel your heart start hammering in your chest when Nai hands you the letter and you read the address.

Kwon Soonyoung

Commander of the Royal Knights

“It’s a letter, my lady, from the battlefields. It just arrived,” Nai huffs, out of breath, certainly, from running up the estate stairs.

You bite your lip and you can feel the familiar tightness start in your throat again. “What-” your voice cracks, “what is it about?”

Nai shakes her head, pushing the letter further into your hands. “No idea, your grace. Perhaps it is encouraging news?”

You hesitate to open the letter. There are the remnants of tears left in your eyes from the morning. This is the first correspondence of any sorts your had received since Wonwoo had up and fucking left for the northern war. And you had thought that he would write to you at least. That he would have written because you had finally gotten around to thinking that you could start with him again – that you were finally okay with his situation (not really, but still). That he would at least have the decency to let you know of the circumstances of this prolonged battle. That he would view you with enough dignity to even simply send someone over to express his feelings. Something that would clarify things for you. But of course. This was Wonwoo. He always got up and left without any prior notice.

Your finger slides under the envelope flap, tearing it open.

You suck in a breath at the first few sentences.

“Wonwoo…” you whisper.

It’s like your world is spinning. It’s like all the blood slowly drains out of your face and goes to power your heart that thuds dangerously fast in the confines of your chest. You feel your fingers curl in, wrinkling the crip parchment, dotted with ink stains. You feel the tightness in your chest and the thick ball in your throat. You don’t know what to say. What to think. The words written in Soonyoung’s familiar messy scrawl blink back up at you, unwavering and unrelenting.

Y/n,

I hope you are doing well. My plan was not to notify you regarding this, but Wonwoo insisted. You know how he is…

He took a spear through the shoulder in the final battle. He’ll recover (medics approve!), but he’s been muttering delirious sentences at me and anyone who thinks to change his bandages. Every other word out of his mouth is your name. “Is she angry, Soonyoung? Will she forgive me, Soonyoung? What if I died, Soonyoung?” Seriously, someone needs to shut him up (I’ve tried).

Anyways, I thought it would be best for you to hear about his current state from me rather than from the Society rumor mills. Don’t worry, y/n. But I will be frank with you. He’s lost a lot of blood and he’s exhausted from everything. We’re trying to either get a Capital medic up north or go back down to the Capital ourselves, but the roads are icy and I barely had enough of a melting window to send this letter.

You should know this though: he didn’t want to leave. He made me promise to tell you that. Whatever you think of him, whatever he’s done to make you believe he doesn’t care, you’re wrong. I’ve never seen a man so willing to leave the battlefield—not for his title, not for his honor—but for the chance to go back to you.

He’s stubborn as hell, and sometimes he makes decisions that would test the patience of a saint (you <3), but he’s fighting for more than simple duty. He’s fighting to survive so he can stand in front of you again and beg for the chance he thinks he doesn’t deserve.

So if you’re still angry, yell at him. If you’re still hurt, let him know. But please, don’t let him wonder if you hate him. It’s killing him more than the damn spear did.

Love, Soonyoung

You gasp in a breath, the letter falling to the ground. You barely register Nai picking it up and leading you over to your bed, sitting you down. You barely register her handing you a cup of water and forcing you to drink it. You can’t register anything. Not when–

“How deadly is a spear to the shoulder, Nai?” you ask. Your voice is high pitched and hysterical and it sounds muted and faraway to your ears.

Fuck, he can’t die.

Nai blinks. “A spear to the shoulder? Well, it depends on how big the wound is, my lady. The bigger the wound, the greater the chance of blood loss.”

You swallow, breaths coming out in shallow exhales. Soonyoung told you Wonwoo was fine. He was fine. He was fine. He was fine.

But why is there a gnawing sensation in your gut? Then why is there a sinking feeling in your gut that’s telling you he’s not? That Soonyoung was simply lying for your sake? What if Wonwoo was actually near-death? What if he was–

“_-if that person doesn’t receive proper medical procedures?”

Nai furrows her brows. “My lady, the war campaign’s medics are–”

“--That’s not my question, Nai!” You snap, head turning to your maid. Your eyes brim with tears as you trace over the words in your brain.

He’s lost a lot of blood. He’s lost a lot of blood. He’s lost a lot of–

“--Well, they would need a blood transfusion. Only Capital doctors are certified for that procedure, my lady.”

You’re quiet. Pros and cons.

Don’t let him wonder if you hate him. It’s killing him more than that damn spear is.

There are only two pros on your list.

Wonwoo lives.

He doesn’t think that you hate him.

But those are two pros enough to convince yourself. The next few words out of your mouth are rushed and panicked.

“I’m going. North, I’m leaving North,” you gasp, shooting out of your seat. You stumble over to your closet, throwing the door open and walking in, desperately digging through your countless dresses for something fur-lined. Something warm.

Nai runs behind you. “My lady? North? Whatever for? It’s cold! You’ll fall sick!” She fusses with the corset back of your lounge dress, undoing it to help you into a new one even through her words.

You shake your head, snatching the thickest cloak you see and slipping into your riding boots. “Send the estate’s medics up to the northern camp,” you order, clipping the cloak shut by your chest. You pull the thick hood over your head, wiping a stray tear off your cheek. You shove the crumpled letter into the cloak pocket. “I don’t give a shit if it’s icy. They will be there by noon tomorrow. Pack with them enough food and any medical equipment they need.”

You walk out of the closet after snagging a pair of hunting daggers decorating your dresser surface.

“My lady!” Nai yells, running after you. She grabs your wrist, halting you. “My lady, you cannot go up north by yourself!”

You shake her off. You don’t even realize you’re shaking until you feel Nai’s hands steadying yours. “Then send an estate knight with me. I don’t care. I’m going up north right now.”

Nai huffs, her grip on your hand loosening enough for you to pull it out. You turn on your heels and walk down the hall. Nai follows.

“My lady, Archduke Jeon will be okay,” Nai hums, a comforting hand placing itself on your shoulder. You shrug her off. “Heading to the north may only make things worse, my lady. The archduke–”

“--He thinks I hate him, Nai!” you cry, whipping around. You feel tears poke at your waterline and your shaking hands hit your chest in frustration. “He thinks I hate him! Soonyoung just told me that they need Capital doctors. If you think I have enough self-pity to stay in the Capital while frankly, the one person I have ever loved may just as well die thinking that I hate him, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

When you feel the tears stream down your face, Nai pulls you into a tight embrace. It’s comforting. But only for a moment, before Soonyoung’s words replay in your head.

“Nai, I have to,” you whisper, voice thick with tears. You don’t know what you would do if Wonwoo leaves thinking you hate him. You’ve never hated him. Ever. Not when he left you alone to go play with Mingyu and Seungcheol when you were younger, not when he didn’t kiss the back of your hand during your debutante, and definitely not when he left you to go fight the nation’s war. You’ve never hated him. Resented him? Yes, perhaps. Frustrated at him for always leaving? Yes. Betrayed that he could never tell you why? Yes, definitely. But hated him? Never. And you were going to first burn your estate than let him think that you’ve ever hated him.

“Then take a knight, at least.”

“I don’t care who you send behind me for protection. I’m leaving.”

Nai presses a pouch into your hands with a knowing look. “I know, my lady. These are silver coins for emergencies. Please be careful. The journey to the north is at least four hours.”

“That’s why I need to go now.”

Nai purses her lips but nods, stepping away from you. You give her a tight, wavering smile.

“I’ll be okay, Nai.”

Nai nods, bowing deeply, before letting you turn away and run down the rest of the hall and out into the courtyard.

Your fingers clench the clasp of your cloak and your eyes squeeze shut for a split second, trying to blink back the tears.

He’ll be okay.

He’s okay.

When you arrive at the entrance courtyard, your mare greets you, pawing the ground with her hooves. You waste no time with formalities towards the two guards flanking your sides, instead choosing to haul yourself up the horse and tug the reins, swallowing the lump down your throat as a strong wind whistles through the treetops.

“My lady, are you sure–” Jedediah Kim speaks up, only to cut himself off when you avert your teary gaze to him.

“--I need to,” is your simple response, voice shaking with not only tears but also with some emotion that is harder to place. Jedidiah holds his tongue, opting to just nod and share a look with Jay Lim who flanks your other side.

“Your wish is my command,” he murmurs. The words are simple. They are words you’ve heard thousands of times before in your life, yet now, facing the brutal, windy, icy journey that you knew lay ahead, it seemed more as a pledge of loyalty, of unfailing servanthood than anything.

“Let’s go,” you whisper, but it carries. It whistles through the slanting morning sunlight and the brittle bones of the trees littering your courtyard. It swims through the canvases of the road laying before you and you mumble out a small prayer to any deity who will listen. Anyone who could let you know how he really was.

The moment you pass into the arched entrance of the Northern Forest – a place you vaguely remember passing through when you were seven, riding a carriage up to your grandfather’s Northern estate – you’re hit with the extent of how bad your idea is. Not the motive behind it, of course. And nothing can stop you from getting to Wonwoo by evening, but you hadn’t expected a snowstorm to greet you on the doorsteps of the northern camp. The snowflakes border dangerously on small balls of hail and the winds tear through the rather flimsy excuse for a cloak you have on.

“Your grace!” Jedediah’s voice breaks through the whipping whistling winds. Just barely.

You give yourself a second to glance back at him, whose horse can barely keep up the same pace as yours, before you return to look straight ahead.

“Your grace, we are literally riding into a snowstorm!” Jedediah yells. His voice is muffled by the winds and the snow.

As if you don’t know.

“I am well aware!” You yell back, pulling your cloak tighter around your body as you lower yourself closer to the back of your horse. Maybe it’s a placebo effect, but you swear it’s less windy this way. Or maybe the four-hour ride was finally catching up to you in the form of hysteria or something.

You swear you can’t feel your legs. If you hadn’t been glancing down every ten minutes at your feet, you could swear that your legs fell off three kilometers back. Your fingers feel frozen on the thick reins, unmoving except for the occasional squeeze or pull to veer your mare back in the right direction. And you definitely can’t feel your face, especially not with the wind heading straight-on to you, threatening to pull your hood up and over your head. But everything pales in comparison to your windward thoughts, spider webbing this way and that, never settling on an idea for more than one minute, lest it turns into a reality.

You think you’ve gone through at least thirty one scenarios of finding Wonwoo half-dead on in the medical tent. And don’t get started on the other fifty four possible scenes of your entrance into the camp and then finding Wonwoo half dead in the medical tent.

And it feels like you go through hundreds of these scenarios – quite schizophrenic – before you see the clearing used for the northern camp. It’s almost idyllic how the snow suddenly lulls into a softer blanket of white, unlike the harsh gusts of ice and frigid wind just minutes before, as you approach the clearing, hooves heavy against the frozen forest ground. The knights’ forms are mere shadows against the snowy white background of the otherwise-beautiful landscape behind the main camp. As your mare slows to a fast trot, the cacophony of the snowstorm that had assaulted your ears slowly changes into a mix and a mingle of bustling knights and occasional laughter. Along the camp’s perimeter is a line of crude barricades, most likely to keep away the snow piling too much, and the grounds are surprisingly empty and crowded at the same time, with knights rolling up spare tents and packing up unused or too well-used armory into wagons. At least half of them are visibly injured, with either crutches, arm slings, or bandaged heads (something you only heard of back in the Capital), and almost every one of them turn to look at you as you pull your mare to a sudden stop, simply and cleanly ignoring Jedediah’s hurried calls after you as you step down from the saddle, swallowing down the dryness of your throat.

It’s a weird feeling because you were sure you could face all of this when you left your estate five hours ago. Now, you are standing in the entrance of the Northern camp, underdressed for the snowstorm that had been billowing outside ten mere minutes ago, hair wild from the wind, eyes colored red from the tears you had unknowingly shed, and body trembling – from the cold, the shock, the exhaustion, you aren’t too sure.

You see their mouths moving before you hear the whispers as you stagger your way into the camp. The snow crunches under your feet and you offhandedly register Jedediah’s complaints of riding in the snow for five hours straight, and you minutely register the flakes of snow that decorate your hair. But nothing – nothing – pales in comparison to the thundering of your heart that has been transported generously to your brain, thrumming a melodramatic, syncopathic, urgent beat against the very fibers of your being.

As you move into the camp, crossing the perimeter line, you glance around frantically. You can’t see him. At least, not from your current vantage point. You can feel the stares of everyone drilling holes into your head and if you were in any other mental state, you would have questioned why no one stopped you from entering yet. Each crunch of the snow underfoot is then drowned out by either the bustling of the camp or the chattering of your teeth that you don’t know is even happening until you clench your jaw and suddenly a noise stops. You feel high-strung. So high-strung to the point that you feel like if you don’t see Wonwoo in the next ten minutes, you might as well sit down and start crying.

You’re so out of it that you don’t even notice the figure watching from the outskirts of camp until he starts jogging towards you, voice sharp with surprise and not-that-hidden accusation.

“Y/n?”

You whip your head – which grants you five seconds of almost complete blackness as your world spins, and you regret not taking your iron supplements like Nai had suggested – and come face-to-face with a brow-furrowed Soonyoung. His grip is firm against your shaking shoulders and he’s tense with some sort of anticipation and concern.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Soonyoung hisses, eyes frantic as they glance behind the two of you. His tongue darts out in between his pursed lips. “Do you have any idea how dangerous–”

You have no mind to stand and listen to him tell you to ‘go home.’

“Where’s Wonwoo?” you interrupt, voice hoarse and trembling, Your words break off at the end and even you are surprised at how distraught you sound. You barely give Soonyoung a glance, eyes wild as you try to look over his shoulder to search the camp.

Soonyoung visibly freezes, his grip loosening on your arm. “That’s why you’re here?” he scoffs, running a stressed hand through his hair. “Y/n, I didn’t send you that letter for you to come running up to a battlefield because you–”

“--Soonyoung!” You snap, eyes locking with his. And maybe it’s the way you’re gasping for breath, or the godforsaken snowflakes in your hair, or your wild eyes, or maybe your rumpled clothing, but Soonyoung shuts up, glancing at you and then further behind you, where you can hear the rolling of a familiar carriage. “Soonyoung, where is Wonwoo?” At this point, you’re on the verge of begging your old friend. You’re desperate. You need to see him. You need to look him in the eyes and hold his face in your hands and tell him you’re sorry. Because God forbid if this shit happens again and all that you come to is a cold, lifeless body.

“...he’s in the middle,” Soonyoung whispers, swallowing as you push past him, stumbling through and over the barricades and the strewn battle items.

The knights glance your way, their movements slowing as you push past anything or anyone in your way, flatly ignoring the looks and calls of confusion, concern, and your name.

You almost stumble to the ground when you finally see him – tall and resolute in the midst of everything. The snow falls in gentle flurries around him as he speaks with three other knights, gesturing vaguely towards the group of boxes on the other side of the camp. His back is towards you, his focus obviously on the knights speaking to him, but when all three of their eyes widen almost comically and they mumble something about a woman behind him, he turns.

His eyes meet yours. You see his entire body freeze, his clipboard slipping out of his grasp and sinking into the snow-covered ground.

And it’s as if something in you breaks entirely. A dam or a wall of some sorts. Something that had been the sole energizer behind your five hour ride into the northern territories, through a snowstorm, and now, here, in the middle of a military camp, completely powers off, leaving you standing along, cold, exhausted, and on the verge of tears, like you have been since the third hour on horseback. A sigh of relief is punched out of you. Relief that Wonwoo’s alive. That he is walking. That you can tell him without having to lean over his cold body and cry a river.

Your legs give out, your knees hitting the cold snow.

Wonwoo’s eyes snap open. “Y/n!” His voice rings out as he rushes to your side, knees also hitting the snow with a hard thud. His hands hover around your shoulders and waist, as if he’s unsure if he can touch you or bring you into an embrace, but the look on his face is unmistakable. His eyes are blown wide with alarm and you can see the deep dark circles under his eyes even through your slowly blurring vision.

Wonwoo swallows, “What- what are you doing here? Are you hurt? Are- are you okay? What–”

“--How could you?” you choke out, your voice shaking as your tears that had been gathering for hours finally decide to spill over, marking their tracks down your cheeks, chin, and onto the snow.

Your words make Wonwoo tense up, his hands freezing from their hovering near your face. “Y/n…” For a second, he looks so pained you want to just bring him into your arms and tell him everything. Just let him encircle you in his familiar warmth and bask in the safety of his arms.

“You left me,” you whisper, voice aghast with some sort of panicked grief, “Fucking again.”

The guilt that flashes across his exhausted face is instant and dreadfully sharp. “I never– I didn’t want to leave –”

“--Shut up!” You cry out, burying your face in your shaking palms, tears now drenching your icy face. “Just– Wonwoo, just shut up!”

Wonwoo flinches as though your words had physically struck him, browning knitting together in ill-concealed anguish. “Y/n, listen, please, I didn’t have a choice–”

“--You always say that!” You sob, your voice rising to a level of hysteria you personally thought was incapable. You don’t mean it to slip in, but there is a bitter undertone to your words. “Every time, Wonwoo, it’s the same fucking excuse. I didn’t have a choice. I had to leave. Do you really think that makes it hurt less?” You gasp, wiping your eyes, streaming with tears, to tearfully look up at Wonwoo, who stares at you with reddening eyes and a parted mouth. “Do you think that makes it okay?”

Wonwoo shakes his head, his fingers curling around your wrist to pull your hand away from your face. “Y/n, I was trying to protect–”

“--Protect me?” you snap, bitterness imbued into every letter of your words. “Explain to me how leaving without a word is protecting me. How breaking every promise you ever made is protecting me,” you force out, angrily wiping away your tears. You barely even notice the stares from the knights around you. You shove a finger into Wonwoo’s chest. “Do you know what’s it’s like to wait for someone, not knowing if they’ll ever come back? If they even made it out of the first week alive? To love someone who keeps walking away?”

Wonwoo suddenly grasps your hands, pulling them to his chest, laying them flat against his beating heart. “I didn’t want to leave,” he whispers, voice breaking.

“But you did!” you yell, and you feel a fresh onslaught of tears in your eyes. “You did! You left and I-” you gasp in a breath, one hand clutching your chest and another gripping Wonwoo’s cloak, “I couldn’t breathe, Wonwoo. Every time I heard– heard your name, I thought–” you heaved, “thought you were dead!” Sobs wrack your shaking body as you clutch the furs of his cloak like it is the only thing grounding you to the present. “Do you even care? Do you understand what it feel like to lose someone over and over and over again?”

“Y/n–”

“--I can’t do this,” you cry, shaking your head as tears blur your already-clouded vision. “Wonwoo, I can't keep loving someone who always ends up leaving! Everyone I love leaves. My mom, my dad, my grandmother – they left. And just when I think I can finally at least have you by my side, you–” a bitter laugh escapes you, scratching blood down your throat, “you’re just like them. Always leaving, always running, always breaking your promises of staying.”

“I’m not–” Wonwoo’s voice trembles as he reaches for your hands again, only to have you pull away.

“You are!! You left, Wonwoo. You left and you didn’t even think to say goodbye. How could you do that to me? How could you do that to me!” You’re left gasping for breath – mind reeling and throat constricting, and vision blurring out of control. Everything’s too much. You shouldn’t have come to the North. You should’ve–

“I can’t, Wonwoo,” It seems as though your mouth works separately from your mind, “I can’t keep waiting for you to come back, wondering if the next time I wake up to the news of your departure will be the last. I can’t go through that again. I can’t–”

"Y/n, please, please just give me a chance--"

"--I can't, Wonwoo, i don't know how--"

"--Y/n, please, you-- you're everything to--"

It’s as if the walls to your own brain are closing in on you. All your thoughts are racing and your pulse quickens with every breath you take. It doesn’t take long before the confession is forced – squeezed – out of your entire being.

“--I love you,” you choke out, the broken confession falling from your lips like your salty tears fall from your chin.

Wonwoo stares at you, stunned, like you just told him something extraordinary.

“I love you so much it feel like I’m breaking,” you say, your voice trembling as the sobs escape uncontrollably, staring dead-straight into Wonwoo’s eyes, “Like I’m tearing apart at the seams because of much you worry me and stress me out and make me cry and leave me waiting for years—” your hands reach up to him shakily, clinging to his cloak, “I hate it. I hate how much I love you because it hurts so much. It hurts, Wonwoo, it hurts.” You finish with another sob, head bowing as your forehead meets his chest. You feel his breath coming out in small stunned sighs against your hair. His hands hover as though his touch will make you rescind all your words.

His voice cracks as he whispers, “What did you say?”

You look up, blinking as your lips tremble, tears trickling down your cheeks. “I love you.” You glance down before laughing mirthlessly, “I love you almost too much.”

For a moment, Wonwoo is quiet. So is the camp and the rest of the world. Then, almost rushed, you feel a warm hand against your frigid cheek and a sudden swipe against your cheekbones. Next thing you know, Wonwoo’s lips are crashing into yours, molding shape against your plush lips. Your eyes are wide before another hand, though less confident, sneaks down to your waist, pulling you flush to him, chest to chest. His grip is tight against your clothes, against your frigid skin, as if a grip any looser will make you run away. He holds you like you’re fragile – like any stronger and you’ll break. Like letting go will shatter him. But his kiss is intense, strong, deep, as if he is pouring out his entire soul into a single kiss. When your eyes flutter closed, he breaks apart, and you see a single streak of a tear down his cheek.

“Say it again,” he breathes, forehead meeting yours.

Your mind is hazy from the kiss, and your fingers rise to brush against your lips. But your tongue moves with no wait for your brain. “I love you.”

Wonwoo swallows and he lets out a small laugh, and with every passing millisecond that he holds you and brushes his thumb against your cheek, his smile grows with his laughter. “God,” Wonwoo mumbles, pulling you into his arms in a tight embrace, ignoring the sharp pain in his shoulder. “God, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” Wonwoo rushes out, a hand threading through your hair. You can feel a couple of tears that drop onto your cloak but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he’s right in front of you, mumbling nonsensical I love yous into your hair.

Wonwoo pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, tears filling his exhausted eyes.

You chew the inside of your cheek, bringing your hands up to his face. There is a sharp pang of guilt as you watch tears slip down Wonwoo’s smooth face. “Don’t cry,” you whisper, gently brushing the tears off his face with shaking hands. You try to steady your fingers, at least, but it feels like your adrenaline has finally worn off and you can distinctly feel the icy cold seep into your bones. Every bite and sting of the wind is sharper than you remember it to be and the flurries of snow around you land on your skin with a frigid sort of burn.

Wonwoo is quiet before stands quickly, pulling you up to your feet, which you do, save for the slight stumble.

“What-”

“-You’re freezing, Y/n,” He states, holding you at arms-length to glance up and down your body. You see his eyes narrow as you tremble, eyes blinking rapidly to drive away the blurriness.

He suddenly reaches for the clasp of his cloak with his good arm, reaching behind him to shrug off his cloak. His good arm fumbles as he drapes it over your shoulders, movements stiff but deliberate. When he tries to adjust how the cloak sat on your shoulders, you see his eyebrows furrow as if he’s in pain before it disappears behind his focused expression.

“Won–”

Wonwoo turns away, pointing to the first knight he sees with an air of command, “Get the fire going in my tent,” he orders, tone regaining its commanding edge. “Now.”

The knight, rather shocked at the sudden singling-out, glances around himself before he salutes, rushing off into the biggest tent.

Wonwoo’s arm snakes around your waist, pulling you tight against him as he motions Soonyoung over. “Take over here,” he hums, expression softening slightly, “Finish the preparations. We’re still leaving as planned.”

Sonyoung raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “And what do you want me to do with this half-assed packing, huh?” he glances between the two of you with twitching lips, “Magic it into completion?” When you roll your eyes, Soonyoung sticks a tongue out at you childishly.

“Just handle it,” Wonwoo mutters, patience obviously thinning as he glances back at you, tucked into his side, head resting against his chest. “I’m taking her into the tent. She’s freezing out here.”

Soonyoung shrugs, picking up Wonwoo’s dropped ledger from the snow. He tuts when some of the ink is smudged from the snow. “Fine, go be in love,” he sighs, gazing off to the side as if he is reminiscing about some old love of his (which never ever happened).

You smile, genuinely, at his words. A feeling that you’re not used to creeps up your throat. It threatens to make itself known when Wonwoo pulls you closer — as if you could get any closer to him — and pokes at your eyes.

“Come on, let’s go inside. You’re shivering.”

It takes you a moment to register in your dulled head that Wonwoo is talking to you and not some other knight or even Soonyoung. You would have swayed on your feet if it isn’t for Wonwoo’s tight hold on your waist. Everything feels a little hazy and you don’t know if its the exhaustion or if its the cold that lulling your brain to sleep.

“Y-yeah,” you mumble, looking down at the ground as Wonwoo just gives you a soft glance, leading you to the direction of his tent, away from all the knights and the bustle of the packing.

You can see Wonwoo glance down at you at least twice every five seconds, as if he’s making sure if you’re really there, and you feel a pang of guilt — or regret, maybe? You didn’t completely think through your course of action when you had deceided that you needed to go up north. It didn’t really occur to you at the time that maybe Wonwoo would already be swamped with responsibilities bigger than you (like organizing the knights), until now. And seeing Wonwoo try to hide his every wince of pain when he even just moves his shoulder to better grasp your waist, basically holding you up as you stumble through the thick snow.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, palms digging into your eyes. When you remove them, black charcoal from your waterline follows, smudged and thick. “I’m sorry for coming, I didn’t really think through the—“

”—Don’t say that,” Wonwoo interrupts, his eyes sharp, even through the exhaustion and the pain lingering and floating in his orbs. He looks almost pained at your words and you mentally hit yourself at the constant distress you cause this man. “Don’t say that, Y/n, please. You— To me, you being here means more than everything. The only thing,” Wonwoo gives you a heartwarming smile, glasses fogging up as his puffs of breath hit the surface, “you shouldn’t be doing is staying out in this cold.” He lifts up the tent flap, ushering you in before closing it behind him.

The first thing you notice about his tent is that it’s warm. It’s warm and toasty, thanks to the fire that’s blazing in the makeshift fireplace. The second thing is the sheer amount of nothing in his tent. It’s spacious, but only because the room contains nothing but a single cot, a desk, a chair, sheepskin rugs, and a random table in the middle of the room. As Wonwoo sits you down on his chair, pushing you closer to the fireplace, you notice the stacks of papers that line his desk, just waiting for him to come back and finish signing them off. You also notice the stiffness in his shoulder and how he works to minimize any movement in it.

“Wonwoo–”

“--Here,” Wonwoo interrupts, flapping a thick fur blanket over your shoulder. You don’t miss the way he bites back a hiss of pain at the sudden movement. He gives you a smile, though thinner than last time.

You shake your head, gently grasping his wrist, stopping him from moving his arm. “Wonwoo,” you repeat, firmer than before. He finally holds your stare, eyes flickering from your forehead to your eyes to your lips and then back up.

He hums in response, kneeling in front of you so that he’s eye-level and not towering above you. He maneuvers his hands so that your hands rest in his. You feel his thumb gently smooth over your knuckles, calloused palms so warm under your touch. He looks at you like you hung up the stars and briefly, you wonder how you never saw the love in his eyes.

“I brought my doctors,” you murmur, one hand going up to trace your fingers along his sharp jaw. You cup his cheek, fingers brushing against his pale skin, still slightly cold from the outside air. Your gaze flits down to his shoulder, bandages obvious under the thin tunic he has on. The stain of red clearly disrupting the sterile white has you worrying. “You need Capital medics, not just ones from the war camp.”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrow, a hand going up to cover yours on his cheek. “Who told you that? I’m–”

“--Soonyoung did,” you state over his words, quieting him, “and don’t tell me you’re fine because there is no way your stubborn ass actually rested.” You give him a knowing glance and he glances away, murmuring something about being busy helping his knights pack and filling out paperwork.

When you don’t respond, Wonwoo sighs, leaning into your touch. “You didn’t have to.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I know. But I needed to.”

Wonwoo gives you a confused look, blinking as if to tell you to continue.

You bite your lip as you feel another rush of tears. “I–” your voice cracks, “I thought you were going to die before I told you the truth,” you whisper, feeling a stray tear drop from the corner of your eye. It feels refreshing, almost, to get it off your chest – to let someone else into your fiercely-guarded heart that was once (and still is) his.

Wonwoo is quiet, studying your features as if looking for more unsaid feelings – things you’ve kept to yourself for these long years. When he deems it enough, he catches you off-guard, turning his head to leave a long kiss on the inside of your wrist, his eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments.

Then, without moving, he murmurs into your palm, “Y/n,” his voice trembles at the last syllable of your name, “I’ve been in love with you for so long I don’t even remember what it feels like to not love you.”

Your breath hitches and your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you like a tidal wave. Over and over again until every other sound surrounding the two of you sounds like meaningless white noise. Wonwoo says something, you know because you see his lips moving, but everything after his confession is a blur. It’s mere ringing in your ears compared to the soft words he had just murmured into your palm like agave honey down your throat.

“...I know I’ve hurt you,” Wonwoo suddenly says, snapping you out of your daze, “I know I’ve made mistakes that I can never make up for. But if you can forgive me–” he cuts himself off, shaking his head, pulling your hand down into your lap, “--no, if you can even just let me try to– I swear to you, I will never leave you again.” He sounds breathless after the last word, like it took all the oxygen in his lungs to convince you of this fact.

You don’t even realize you’re crying again until you feel Wonwoo’s fingers brush the tears off your face.

“Never ever?” You ask, voice quiet and tinged with an edge of teasing. You fiddle with the silver ring that encircles his pinky.

“Never ever,” he confirms, brushing the last of your tears off of your wet cheeks. He laughs as you blush under his touch, cheeks heating to a dusty pink.

You sniffle, rubbing at your eyes. You pull your hands out of his grasp, instead trapping his face in between your palms. Wonwoo’s eyes widen a bit at your sudden actions.

“You’re going to get that shoulder looked at when my doctors arrive,” you state. You want your words to sound firm, but it actually comes out more as a meek order than a non-negotiable sentence.

But still, Wonwoo nods, a small smile gracing his lips. Your heart thuds in your chest.

Fuck, if you knew battling this whole thing straight-on would make him smile so much, you would’ve done it sooner.

“Promise,” you add, holding up your pinky.

Wonwoo links his pinky with yours, twisting so that your thumbs stamp together. Before you can say anything else, he pulls you by your hand, his good arm going to steady your waist when you suddenly jolt forward from the momentum. His hand cups your cheek (and you pretend to not notice his grimace of pain), as he leans in, a grin dancing on his lips.

“I promise,” he whispers, his breath hot on your lips, before his lips meet yours. Softly as first, then with some growing carnal intensity that steals your breath from your poor lungs. It’s as if he is pouring all of his emotions into the kiss, the sincerity, the love, the truth. He mumbles something against your lips as he pulls back, but it’s lost in the pounding of your heart and the small embarrassing gasps you let out when he pulls you to stand, his lips now trailing soft kisses down the column of your throat. You hope, with eyes squeezed shut, that he can’t feel your erratic pulse under the thin skin of your neck.

When he teasingly bites, right above your collarbone, you jolt, hands finding purchase higher on his chest. The movement has him wincing, face suddenly buried in the crook of your neck as he turns away from you, arms stiffening around your waist.

You freeze, eyes blown wide open as Wonwoo lets out a soft noise.

“I’m so– so sorry,” you gasp, unsure of what to do as Wonwoo just stands there, breathing heavily, a pained grunt escaping him. “Are–” you try to pull away, “Are you okay?” When Wonwoo doesn’t respond, your brows furrow, shifting so that your arms wrap around his waist, leaning so that your head rests against his chest. You can faintly hear his heartbeat from where your ear presses against his chest, and Wonwoo seems to relax a smidge under your embrace. “I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest, feeling Wonwoo breathe a sigh into your hair.

“I’m fine,” he replies after a beat of silence, save for the crackling of the fire. His voice is tight but not angry. “Don’t be sorry, ‘s not your fault,” he murmurs.

You beg to differ. But you decide to keep your arguments to yourself, at least when he’s injured.

“You need to rest,” you hum, eyes closing as his good arm goes up, fingers threading through your hair.

“Later,” he rebuts, pressing a soft kiss on your temple. “Need to help with the packing.”

You click your tongue. “A normal person wouldn’t even be out of bed in a week with a puncture wound as bad as yours.”

You can feel Wonwoo’s lips curve into a smile against your temple. “Are you calling me abnormal?”

“No, I’m calling you not self-responsible,” you huff. “Have you ever stopped to consider what would happen if you actually ripped your stitches open and your wound got infected? How are you even walking around? Don’t you feel the–”

“--Y/n–”

“--No, listen to me. You can’t just jump right into your duties after you were stabbed within an inch of your life–”

“-- Y/n–”

“--Wonwoo. I asked the doctors before and they said–”

“--Love,” Wonwoo laughs, his head tipping back ever so slightly. His glasses slide low on his nose. But it’s the pet name that makes you actually shut up.

You blink up at him, mouth slightly parted as he gives you a quick peck on the lips, the tips of his ears blushing red as you stare at him. It’s like your heart just stops for a second. But Wonwoo acts like everything is as it was.

“You’re adorable,” Wonwoo chuckles, giving your forehead a peck as well. His injured arm’s hand sits low on your hip.

“W-what?”

Wonwoo gives you a cheeky grin, pinching your hip. “I’ll rest after I finish these reports, yeah? Just thirty minutes.”

You nod, but your mind is still reeling from what he had called you before (Love!!!!!). “O-okay. That’s fine. But you have to.”

Wonwoo just hums in response, gently adjusting his cloak that is on your shoulders. He looks down at you for a moment, meeting your eyes, before swooping in to steal another kiss, lips stretched in a grin as he whispers, “I love you. More than you know,” against your lips, and he smoothens your hair with such care and utter love that it’s hard not to believe him.

Your eyes flutter shut and you reach up to cup his jaw, rising to your tip-toes to kiss him back. Wonwoo gently pulls your head back as he leans down, tongue swiping over your bottom lip with such practiced ease it almost makes you jealous of anyone he ever kissed before you.

You detach with a gasp, out of breath and cheeks definitely a dark pink. Wonwoo’s tongue darts out to lick his lips, the edge of his mouth lifting as he thumbs your bottom lip, pulling the flesh down and swiping over your kiss-bitten lips with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he grins, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. “Can’t help myself.” He curls a finger around your hair, lightly pulling on it with a teasing sort of smile.

You let out a laugh of disbelief, burying your face in his muscled chest, face heating at his words.

“So crude,” you mumble, but it’s not without a smile. Your cheeks hurt from how much you are smiling, arms returning to their place around Wonwoo’s waist.

When you glance up, you feel your breath hitch. Wonwoo looks down at you with such an infatuated look in his eyes it churns your stomach. You feel tears prick at your eyes and you quickly go back to hide your face in his chest, lest he sees your watering eyes. But of course, it’s Wonwoo.

“Hm?” He gently goes to lift your head, but you shake your head no, holding him tighter, like you’re subconsciously afraid that if you let go, he’ll collapse. “Love, what’s wrong?” he asks, voice ever-so gentle.

“Nothing,” you mumble, cheek pressed up against his chest. “Just,” you fist his tunic, feeling a tear slide down your aching cheeks, “it feels good to tell you– cathartic, I guess – that I love you.” Your cheeks burn at your confession, your voice trailing off into a meek whisper by the end of your hastily put-together sentence.

Wonwoo just kisses the top of your head, gently peeling you from his chest with minimal resistance from you. “You know, right?”

“Know what?”

“That I love you, angel, more than anything.”

His forehead rests against yours and the last word is a faint whisper against your lips but it rings clear in your ears. Internally, you hit yourself over the head because how could you ever have doubted this man – though battle-worn and sometimes clueless – and his love for you.

And for the first time in years, you felt comfort in letting yourself believe him.

: ̗̀➛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ @syluslittlecrows @gaslysainz @meowmeowminnie @luvjichang @peachytokki @nicoleparadas @haneulparadx @venuszaa @lilylikesthat @ppaia @ameliamirabela @tearsdntfall617

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flowerxbunnie · 1 year ago

Note

since im like i love w/ ur writing can u PLEASE do nate smut??

idk what but like please

-💋anon

Camping

Nathan Doe x Fem reader

Warnings: angst kinda, SMUTTTT

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR

I’ve been friends with the triplets since I can remember. We’ve been on so many family trips in our time growing up together; beach vacations, skiing, boating. Never did I ever think I would agree to go camping with them.

But here we are in the mountains, setting up our tents and gear. It’s us four and Nate for three days, living out of tents and stuck with no cell service. It’s not exactly my idea of a fun time, but Matt loves the outdoors and Nick and Chris seemed super excited to get away for a while too.

“Pass me another stake, this one won’t go in the fucking ground!” Chris yells from across the jumbled up pile of fabric that we’re struggling to turn into a tent for him and Matt.

“This one is the exact same,” I laugh while grabbing another one out of the package and toss it his way. “But there ya go, have at it kid.”

He grabs it and replaces the one he had been trying to get in at first, this one going into the ground on his first attempt. He shoots me a teasing grin and sticks his tongue out like a little kid, earning a laugh from me in return.

“Maybe you should listen to the boys for once, Y/n,” Nate blurts out, my eyes narrowing in his direction. “Girls weren’t built for these tough woods.” He snickers and tosses a chip into the air before catching it in his mouth.

I turn my attention back to straightening out the fabric in front of me. “Maybe you should make yourself useful and put together your tent. How about that, Nate?” I shoot back without looking at him, my nerves getting more shot with each annoying thing he does. It’s been a fucking day already.

“It was a joke, damn. Someone’s panties are in a wad.” He laughs his smug laugh and I hear Nick quietly scold him.

He’s always been so immature. I deal with him because the boys love him, but if I had it my way I wouldn’t ever be in the same room as him. He just knows what buttons to press to piss me off and make me want to pull my hair out. He thinks it’s so funny to make jokes about me being a helpless, dumb girl, and that is far from the truth. Even if it’s just joke, why keep going if nobody else is laughing?

We spend what feels like hours getting the three tents set up, positioning them next to a little creek. The sound of the water is going to be incredibly nice once I finally get to wind down for bed. For now Matt is setting up a little fire in a pit so we can make some s’mores.

I walk to the back of the van and open the trunk, grabbing two of the fold up chairs we brought and start carrying them towards the fire pit. Nick sees me doing it alone and rushes to help, grabbing two more out of the trunk and trailing behind me.

“Thank you Nicky, there should be one more in the ba-” I cut myself off with a squeal, feeling fingers digging into my sides causing both of my chairs to crash onto the ground.

I whip around and Nate is behind me, a devious grin on his face and his hands up in defense.

“That didn’t even tickle, asshole. It hurt.” I spit at him, leaning down to pick the chairs back up.

“Not my fault you’re sensitive.” He laughs, retreating to the van to grab the other chair.

“I don’t know what his problem is, Y/n. I’m sorry. We can go somewhere fun just us once this trip is over to make up for it!” Nick apologizes, speeding up to walk beside me.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m still having fun with you three.” I smile, opening up the chairs and spacing them out beside the fire pit.

Matt finally gets the fire going and Chris gets back from his adventure of finding some nice sticks for roasting marshmallows. We claim our seats and sit around as the sun goes down, feasting on s’mores and listening to Chris ramble.

“No dude, I swear. I heard the footsteps behind me,” he says with wide eyes. “I was sprinting so fast to get back here.”

“There was not a fucking bear stalking you. We would have seen it.” Matt rolls his eyes, adding a piece of chocolate to his graham cracker.

“Not if it was stalking!” He takes a bite, marshmallow sticking to his cheek. “That’s like… the whole point of stalking,” he talks with his mouth full, “to be secretive.”

“Bro that would have been a cool story to be honest.” Nate chimes in, holding his marshmallow in the flames until it catches fire.

“Nate!” Nick says in a warning tone, his eyes widening as Nate pulls it out of the flames and starts whipping the stick around.

Nate stands up and starts doing a dance with the flaming marshmallow on top, carelessly lashing it back and forth. He runs in circles around our chairs, laughing as he holds it over my head tauntingly. Before I can even register what has happened, oozing hot marshmallow drops down straight onto my chest, a throbbing burn stinging my skin even through my t-shirt. I yelp and curse in pain and try brush it off with my fingers which proves to be no help, the stickiness makes it almost impossible.

“What the fuck bro?” Chris raises his voice at Nate, quickly standing up to help me brush the remnants away.

“I didn’t know it would drip..” he says while holding back a laugh, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

Tears well in my eyes from the pain and I try to choke them back, pulling my neckline down to see a red welt already blistering up onto my skin. “Fuck you.” I direct at Nate, making eye contact with him as I stand up to head over to Matt’s backpack in his tent. It’s uncomfortably quiet, the only sound being the trickling of the water, the crackling fire and my feet stomping on the leaves.

I unzip the door and rummage through the backpack before finding the first aid kit, jumping when I fear the fabric rustling. Matt’s head pops in and he leans down so his head doesn’t hit the top of the opening. “You need some help?”

I nod and feel a hot tear fall down my cheek, brushing it away quickly as Matt digs through his kit for burn cream. I sit criss cross and he kneels down in front of me, sighing as he brushes my hair back and pulls my collar down. “He got you good, but it didn’t break the skin thankfully.” He swipes an alcohol wipe over it and cleans it up, using a swab to apply some cream. “All better?”

I nod and reach my arms out, sinking into his embrace. “Why does he hate me?” I speak quietly.

“Oh Y/n,” he laughs, “he doesn’t. He’s just immature. He doesn’t know when to stop.”

“Well it feels like he does. Haven’t even been through one night and he’s already getting on my last nerve.”

He pulls back and gives me a knowing look before standing up, holding his hand out and helping me to my feet. “I’ll talk to him. Just try to enjoy your time, okay? Don’t let him ruin your trip.”

I smile in appreciation of Matt and our friendship. I give him a nod and a peck on the cheek, jumping when Nate speaks up.

“The fuck?”

Matt and I snap our heads to him, his tall frame standing in the opening of the tent with a puzzled look on his face.

“What?” I snap, seething with anger. “Can’t even get five minutes away from you, huh?”

He raises an eyebrow and gives us a suggestive look.

“Nate, stop being fucking weird. Y/n is like my sister. Get your ass in here.” Matt demands, guiding me out of the tent and back to Nick and Chris, Nate bumping my shoulder as we cross paths.

The rest of the night is peaceful. Matt and Nate eventually came back to join us in our exchange of campfire stories, a grin across Matt’s face as he takes the seat next to me. We take turns talking about all things spooky, paranormal, conspiracy theories, you name it. When it circles around to Nate for his turn, he shakes his head and sits back in his seat. He remains quiet and standoffish for the rest of the night, engaging in conversation as little as he can.

It’s pitch black and the fire is dwindling down when Nick announces he’s going to head to bed, collecting the sticks and tossing them into the flames.

“Same here, Matt come with me so you don’t wake me up with that loud ass zipper later.” Chris ruffles Matt’s hair and gets pushed away playfully.

“I’ll be in there in a bit,” Nate looks at Nick. “I’ll keep a watch on the fire ‘til it goes out.”

Nick nods and retreats off to their tent, zipping it shut.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Chris yells as he sprints towards his tent, and Matt mouths ‘help me’ as he scoots in behind him.

The awkwardness in the air is thick and palpable, neither me or Nate uttering a word as the crickets chirp around us. He pokes and prods at the fire, sparks floating off into the air as he moves the remaining logs around. I watch, almost hypnotized by the embers and shake my head, snapping back to reality. As I look up I swear I catch his dark blue eyes looking into mine for a fraction of a second. I huff and stand up, brushing the crumbs off my shirt before I turn around to make my way to my tent.

I zip myself in and do the best skin routine I can do while camping, cleansing my face with wipes and applying my travel moisturizer and serums. I change into a tank top and sleep shorts, happy with the idea of being a little cold while I sleep.

I flip on my portable reading light and set it up beside my air mattress, grabbing a book to read to lull myself to sleep. The soft light is ambient and relaxing along with the steady trickling of the stream just behind my tent.

I read for a while, snug under my blanket and dozing off every couple minutes as my eyes trace across the pages. I hear rustling outside my tent, setting my book down as I listen closer. What if Chris was right and there is a bear stalking us from somewhere beyond the tree line? I jump and gasp as I hear tapping on my door, the fabric rippling and moving around.

“Knock knock…” a deep voice rings out just loud enough for me to hear.

The zipper starts moving around the arch of the entrance, falling down to reveal Nate’s figure standing outside.

“Can I come in?” He whispers.

“Uhh.. I’d rather you didn’t.” I groan and pick my book back up, trying to bring my focus back to the love story in front of me.

“Please? I’ll be quick.” He pleads, dipping his head farther in the tent.

I look up as the light catches on his face, and I can see the dip of his cheekbones, his jaw clenching lightly as he takes a deep breath.

“Fine. Make it snappy.” I concede, sitting up and drawing my legs to my chest instinctively, almost as an effort to protect myself.

I hear the zipper of the door being closed and feel the air mattress dip as he sits on the edge, a good distance still between us. He brings one leg up to rest on the bed and the other hangs down to the ground, nervously kicking back and forth. We sit for a minute without speaking, neither of us wanting to be the first to break the silence. He coughs and clears his throat, urging me to look his way.

“How’s the.. burn?” He asks as his eyes flick down to my chest and back up quickly.

“Really fucking painful.” I state matter of factly, exaggerating to try and make him feel bad.

He breathes out and closes his eyes, an apologetic look written across his face as he opens them again. “Look, Y/n, I’m sor-”

“You don’t have to do this.” I interrupt him, my tone full of annoyance. “I don’t want a half assed apology.”

“Let me talk.. please?” He asks calmly, pulling his other leg up onto the mattress.

I sigh and nod, playing with my fingers that are still interlocked around my legs.

“Y/n. I’m actually really fucking sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he looks down and shakes his head before looking back up, licking his lips. “I just d-don’t know how to..” he stammers, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Go on..” I huff, ready to dive back into my book and sleep this night away.

“Can I just see the burn?” He asks hesitantly, a shaking hand reaching up to toy with my fingers.

I swallow back a gasp as the heat of his hand radiates against mine, his soft fingers guiding mine to unlock. His eyes are filled with a softness, an innocence that I’ve never seen before. I release my grip and allow my knees to fall down from my chest, exposing the wound he left on me hours before. It’s nothing major, just a red welt filled with lingering heat. His shoulders slump as he scans over it, his eyes showing remorse as they meet mine again.

“It’s already a lot better.” I admit, regretting the harsh tone I had used earlier when I lied to him about it still being painful.

“Can I?” He asks softly, reaching a hand toward my chest.

I give him a hesitant nod as my cheeks burn, scared he’ll be able to feel my heart pounding in my chest. My blood burns hot as it courses through my body, a visceral reaction to the distance closing between us. His fingertips graze over it with a feather light touch, so soft it’s like he’s almost not touching me at all. He lingers for a moment, his eyes shutting as he shifts his position to be directly in front of me. His hand drops down, landing on my bare calf as his eyes flash up to mine again.

“I just don’t know how to act around you, Y/n.” He is barely audible as his hand squeezes my leg.

“W-what are you talking about, Nate?”

“I just..” his hand inches up to my knee. “I think I make a fool of myself to try and impress you.”

I shake my head, convinced this is just a weird dream that I’m having and I’ll wake up to the same annoying Nate that makes me want to claw at my skin. I can’t help but feel my stomach flip with the way he’s opening up to me.

“I’m serious. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you since we were in school together.” His fingers trail up my inner thigh, the rough pads against my skin causing a heat to rush between my thighs.

“Nathan… I-”

“Fuck.” He mumbles under his breath. “You can’t call me that, Y/n.”

“Why not?” I ask in a whisper, my better judgement taking over as I place my hand on top of his own, leading it higher up my thigh.

His breath hitches as he looks down and sees that he’s millimeters away from the hem of my shorts. “Makes me feel some type of way..” he trails off, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat as he gulps.

“What kind of way, Nathan?” I ask lowly, batting my eyes at him and feigning innocence as I scoot closer.

“Stop it. Don’t start something you can’t finish.” He warns, starting to draw his hand back.

I tighten my grip on his hand and move it higher, pushing the tips of his fingers under the hem and biting my lip. “Who said I don’t feel the same?”

It’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. He brings his free hand to my face and caresses it lightly, still a little hesitant but with a hungry look in his eyes. He moves his face closer to mine, hot breath fanning against me as his pink lips ghost over mine.

“Are you sure?” He asks seriously.

“I’m positive.” I answer, closing the distance and taking the opportunity to make the first move.

Our lips mesh together, working against each other slowly. His hand moves to my jaw, fingers resting against the nape of my neck as we kiss like it’s the only thing we know how to do. He pulls away and places a few quick pecks on my lips before diving back in, moving both hands to my hips. He pulls me closer and I take the hint, throwing a leg over him and straddling his lap, never disconnecting our lips. His big hands roam my body, squeezing and grabbing hungrily as he swipes his tongue over my bottom lip. I open my mouth and our tongues synchronize, exploring the parts we’ve both secretly longed for. The kiss is both passionate and filled with lust, low moans breathed into each other’s mouths.

He pulls back and scans my face, his pupils rapidly dilating as he drags his gaze down to my chest. My nipples have caught up with my arousal, becoming taut against the fabric of my tank top. He brings his mouth down and places a kiss on each one through my shirt, a whine escaping my lips at the sensation. He reaches up and places a tender kiss to the burn on my chest, careful not to be too rough.

His hands trail up my hips before moving up and pulling down on the neckline of my top, my breasts spilling out inches from his face.

“So perfect.” He whispers against my skin while placing kisses spanning across my chest.

My head falls back and I grip into his soft hair, pulling on it and earning a low groan. His tongue circles my left nipple before he latches onto it, sucking slowly as his blue eyes lock onto mine. I push his hair out of his forehead as he switches to the other nipple, flicking his tongue across it before sucking a little more harshly.

I can feel him growing beneath me, his erection pressing against my clothed core. I instinctively grind down against it, causing his lips to stall on my nipple and a low moan to escape his throat. He bucks up for more, his throbbing dick providing a delicious pressure against me. His hands leave my body and he pulls his shirt off, leaning back on his hands, propped up and staring at me intently. His defined torso is etched out in the light, a sheen of sweat over his skin despite the cool night air.

“Fuck.. just keep grinding… please.” He pleads, squirming his hips.

I do as I’m told, my hands reaching up to pull my own tank top over my head as I move back and forth on him. I reach down and run my fingers across his stomach, the rippling muscles tensing beneath my fingers as I circle my hips. His face contorts with pleasure, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I can’t help the little whimpers that fall past my lips, my core now dripping with need. The layers of clothing between us do nothing to stop the feeling of his rock hard erection against my clit.

“Nathan.. I need it.” I pant and start loosening the tie on his sweatpants.

“Stand up baby. Let me undress you.” He demands as he guides me to my feet and sits up on the edge of the mattress.

My stomach flutters at the new pet name and at the fact that his lips are now placing hot kisses across the tender fleshy skin. He inches lower, lips grazing against my waistband as he hooks his fingers into them. He looks up at me again with a questioning look, almost as if asking me to confirm I want this for a final time. I nod furiously and he slowly inches the shorts down until they pool around my ankles. He traces the fabric of my underwear lightly before pulling them down, my body now completely exposed in the soft light of my reading lamp. He removes his own pants and boxers in one motion, his dick springing up and a whine falling past his lips at the freeing feeling.

“Now get back on,” he says while resuming his propped up position, “I like seeing your tits in my face.”

The dirty words make my stomach flip. I climb back on top of him, my dripping pussy sliding up across his length, my core clenching in response. I repeat it a few times, gripping onto his shoulders as I slide back and forth across his cock feeling every vein running across its surface. He grips his base with one hand as I lift up, lining himself up with my entrance. I sink down, feeling my walls stretch around him as I take him inch by inch.

“So tight, fuck..” he groans, hips stuttering and resisting the urge to shove all the way into me.

“Y-you’re so big, Nathan.” I whimper, pain turning into pleasure as I begin to loosen up and sink completely down.

“Don’t flatter me, baby.” He smirks and brings a thumb to his mouth, licking it and bringing it down to rub my clit.

I moan out and immediately stop myself, worried about waking the boys who are just a couple thin fabric walls away from us. Nate shushes me and rubs back and forth tantalizingly slow, his pressure rough. I start to bounce up and down on him, gripping onto the arm that’s still propping himself up. The muscles are flexed and hard, and his tanned skin is clammy beneath my fingertips.

His finger leaves my clit and reaches up to pinch my nipple, rolling and tugging on it as I ride him. We’re both panting and holding back our sounds, swallowing them down before they have the chance to escape. His eyes are fully blown out as he bites onto his lip.

“N-Nathan please.. touch me again.” I whisper, sinking down to take all of him back inside and rolling my hips.

“You like when I play with your clit?” He asks with a smug grin before bringing his thumb back down, rubbing faster this time.

“U-uh.. mhm… fuck.” I can barely form words, the pleasure making my brain cloudy.

My thighs burn as I bounce up and down, feeling his swollen tip brush against my walls with every movement. He starts to buck his hips up along with my movements, pushing himself impossibly deep into my core. I taste iron in my mouth as I bite onto my bottom lip, desperate to keep my moans contained. A pressure is building in my lower stomach as he toys with me, his index finger inching its way to my clit to roll it between his thumb.

In the blink of an eye he’s on top of me, his chain dangling over my face. He hooks one of his arms around my thigh and pushes it up against my stomach, the other sprawled out to the side. His other arm props himself up above me, his veins lining his arms and straining underneath his skin.

He pushes into me and curses fall out of his mouth as he begins to pump in and out. His hips slap against my skin rhythmically, my breasts bouncing with each impact. Each thrust brings me closer to the edge as head brushes repeatedly against my g spot.

“I’m close, baby. F-fuck.. wanna cum in you so bad..” he groans, his head falling down into my neck.

I lean over and hover my lips by his ear. “Please, Nathan..” I almost beg, my pussy starting to clench around him already.

My pleas send him over the edge, his dick twitching as he shoots his load into me. He pushes all the way in as he paints my walls, and the sensation brings me to my own climax. My stomach clenches as I throb around him, his name falling out of my lips over and over. We moan out together as we ride through our releases, my hands clawing down his back as I arch up off the bed against him. He falls down on top of me, my breath hitching at the feeling of his dick sliding out, still so sensitive from my climax.

“Oh my god.” He pants out as he rolls over to lay down beside me.

My head is swimming and my entire body is pulsing. I look over and place a soft kiss against his lips, too tired to even think about talking right now.

We lay together for a while, drinking in the bliss and caressing each other with soft hands. He eventually gets up to rummage through my bags, finding a pack of baby wipes. He tenderly cleans me up before grabbing a new one and cleans himself off. We redress and he plops back down into the mattress.

“As much as I would love to sleep in here..” he starts, leaving the statement open ended.

“I know. It’s okay.” I smile and pull him closer, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

He melts against me and cuddles against my chest. Time feels slow as we listen to the babbling creek and the crickets chirping in the woods.

A different kind of chirping causes me to shoot my eyes open, panic flooding in as I see the light through the tent and Nate’s chest rising and falling underneath my blanket. I hit his chest and he jumps, his eyes flying open and the same panicked look written across his face.

“What are we gonna do?” I whisper, rubbing my hands across my face.

“Hey.” He grabs my hands, pulling them away from my face. “I’ll just sneak into my tent and go to sleep next to Nick like I was supposed to.”

I nod frantically and lay down, faking sleep as he presses a kiss against my hair and hurries to undo the zipper on the door.

“Fuck.” He mumbles.

“What, Nathan?” I sit up, scanning around to see what he’s so worried about.

To our surprise, all three boys sit around the fire pit with a flame already blazing, cups of hot chocolate in their hands as they smirk and laugh over at us.

“You guys have fun last night?”

tag list: @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @lxvlysworld @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel @karlybbx @chrisfavoritepepsi @mwah0mwah @starsturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #nate doe #nathan doe #nathan doe smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

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moonstruckme · 9 months ago

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Hiii!! Im really obsessed with your camp counsellor!james ,,, do you think you could do like a follow up of the previous one where they go to the bonfire tgt?? Love your writing and have a good day 🫶

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!! You have a good day too <3

cw: alcohol

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 897 words

James doesn’t know how much of your closeness to blame on booze.

It feels a bit silly to be so loose and laughy at nine pm, but he and the other counselors only have until ten thirty before the kids get out of their movie night. James suspects some of them are going to have to take a quick dunk in the lake before they rejoin their campers.

You’re not the least squiffy there, having had exactly as many beers as James but without the large frame to support them. You’re sitting close enough that your thigh is pressed to his on the wooden log, and when you gesture your arm brushes his bicep with every movement.

“No, no,” you’re saying, laughter ringing in your tone, “James is the kids’ favorite. No contest.”

“Ava’s cabin is huge, though,” another counselor argues. “She’s got kids that come back just to see her every year.”

“Yeah, but it’s only James’ first year.” You don’t catch the bit of pique in the more seasoned counselor’s voice, defending your stance lightly. James, roasting marshmallows for the both of you, keeps his mouth shut. “If he comes back next year, he’d have kids fighting over his cabin for sure.”

“I could never handle as many kids as Ava does, though,” James says, pulling the flaming marshmallows away from the fire and blowing them out. “Here, lovely, do you have your stuff ready?”

The distraction works. You hold up your graham crackers and chocolate eagerly, capturing a marshmallow between them and pulling it off the stick.

“Can’t believe you’re one of those people who just burns the whole thing,” you say. “I expected better from you, James.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were being beggars and choosers tonight.” He glances over as he readies his own s’more supplies, and you’re grinning, your eyes crackling with amusement and something else. “How do you like them done?”

“I take my time with it, so the outsides are brown but the insides are all melted.” You take a bite, not seeming too displeased despite the subpar quality of his marshmallow roast. “It’s like a brûlée.”

A laugh trips off James’ tongue. “Oh, it’s like a brûlée, is it? Fancy.”

You hum in prideful affirmation, polishing off your s’more quickly. James tries not to look too obviously pleased when your head drops to his shoulder.

He holds his s’more away from your hair, turning towards you to say lowly, “I appreciate the compliments, but you’re gonna get me in trouble. Some of the other counselors have been coming here for years.”

You make a breathy sound of amusement. “I’m just telling the truth. Look at this.”

You reach down and take his forearm in your hand. Warmth seems to emanate from your touch. James lets you bring his wrist up to eye level.

“Basically every kid at camp wanted to make you a friendship bracelet,” you say before letting his arm drop. It lands in the crease between your thigh and James’. “They all love you.”

Your head moves, face tipping back to look at him. You look really pretty. It’s hardly the first time James has noticed tonight, and certainly not unusual for you, but the firelight plays soft over your features and you’re smiling more than usual so he’s having an especially difficult time keeping his eyes off of you. Especially when you look at him like this, all sweet and happy with the light from the bonfire glancing across your eyes and your cheek squished into his shoulder. The sight of you makes James’ stomach ache.

“You’re everybody’s favorite,” you murmur.

The conversation around you fades into an indistinct thrum. You’re so close James can count your eyelashes, can feel your warm breath hitting his chin. If he were to kiss you, he knows you’d taste like graham crackers and chocolate and marshmallows roasted not quite the way you like them. Maybe his lips would still be a little sticky with the same, unwilling to let you go.

James really wants to kiss you.

You take in a soft, quick inhale, and then your face turns back the way it was, looking towards the bonfire instead of up at him.

“That’s how I know no one will get mad at you,” you say. “You’re too easy to love.”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit,” he replies. He reaches across you to finger the set of bracelets on your own wrist. “And maybe yourself not enough.”

You make a dismissive sound, nudging James with your elbow. “You’re going to have to bring yours with you if you come back next year. If the kids see you without them, it’ll break their little hearts.”

“Oh, I’m never taking these things off. Five hundred years from now, someone could dig up my grave and they’d just find a pile of bones and a bunch of string bracelets.”

Your body shakes against his as you laugh. The sound of it is as bright and clear as the stars above your heads, and in James’ opinion thrice as lovely.

“I’d be surprised if they last that long,” you say. “Hopefully they’re not the only thing you have to remember this place by.”

James still wants to kiss you terribly. He appeases the urge by dropping his lips to your head. “No, I’m not worried about that.”

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hobies-princealbert · 1 year ago

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Head Empty. Thinking about high!plug!fontaine n high!reader. He’d def be the plug that flirts with her and gives her deals and one day he asks her to smoke wit him for free and they just start making out in his car listening to music. 😱😱😱

gurl the new pfp frightened me a bit ngl 💀💀

but coming right up! i took some creative liberties cuz i kinda forgot to double check what your ask said. im srry its just once i got that ball rolling, i couldn't stoppp ( ´,_ゝ`)

plug! fontaine x high! reader | (the nsfw is below the cutting off)

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎♤▪︎▪︎

♤ taine wasn't exactly your first choice for a plug. he was a well known dealer in the glen, but the things he was known for made you hesitant. he was a no nonsense type dealer, he gives a price, you pay on time. if you can't do as simple as that then you wasting his time. and knowing you were tight on money sometimes, you decided it best to stick to the plugs you knew.

♤ but twelve wack ass joints later, you found yourself sitting in a certain green cadillac that you never thought you'd set foot in. both of you sat in silence for a few seconds, only a few feet away from each other.

♤ you patiently watched as he tried to light his spliff with the faulty lighter. growing more frustrated, he soon tossed the lighter onto the dash, then turned to you expectantly. and as if you could read his mind, you pulled your lighter and held it up for him to take.

♤ he stared at you for a bit, you felt as if you body was on fire. he had a pair of the scariest eyes you've ever seen. and he kept those eyes on you the entire time. not once looking away.

♤ you felt him wrap around your wrists. he pulled your hands closer to his face. your entire body became solid rock. all you could hear was your heart beating in your ears. the grip on your wrists were slack, giving you enough leeway to pull back if you wanted to. but something about the way he looked at you, made you stay still for him.

♤ he motioned for you to light the joint. you obliged. the orange glow of the flame made his eyes even more sinister. god he's terrifying. hot but, terrifyingly hot. once it was lit, he leaned back and let your wrist fall from his grasp. he took two puffs before he passed it over. " 'ere. take it. ' tell me if 'sgood enough."

♤ your breath was shaky as you inhaled the smoke. it was strong, definitely would get you fucked up in less than a minute. you handed it back to him. "you barely took tha' shi'. come 'ere."

♤ he placed the blunt back between his lips, as he settles one of his hands behind your head. "was he gonna gimme a shotgun right now. he's not....is he?" you let your brain rambled for bit till a low "open" brought you back.

♤ taine never does this, especially with cilents. but he took an interest in you. you seemed nervous, unlike most of his clients that just want their quick fix. and it helps that you weren't bad looking either. kinda cute in fact.

♤ but that didn't mean he wasn't fed up from watching your pretty little lips not taking his blunt properly. that shit ain't cheap. but you took the shot gun gave you pretty well. he saw how the smoke made your eyes a little teary, so he wiped a couple away before he let you go.

♤ you stared at him for a bit. he found you amusing that's for sure. and while he was trying to subside a smirk, you were trying to calm the ache between your legs. god you needed to get out this car before you did something you regret. but would you regret it? from the way his pants seemed to be stiffening, he probably felt the same way.

♤ reaching into his jacket he pulled a small plastic baggy,,that looked to contain at least 5 grams. your eyes went wide. this was way more than the agreed amount, that's at least $45 bucks, you didn't have that much on you. shit shit shit.

♤ "easy ma, this one's on the house" and with that you became one of his regulars. and his favorite at that.

♤ of course you became his favorite. i mean he'd never let a customer come over his house. much less one sit on his couch, smoke his blunt and watch a show on his tv.

♤ he certainly wouldn't let a customer stretch their legs across his lap either. or let one inch closer to him than appropriate, to the point where they made it onto his lap. he didnt mind, it definitely did help him relieve the ache between his legs. and he wasn't opposed to the way you let him kiss alongside your jaw, and even suck a couple marks into your skin.

♤ no regular of his ever let him pull down their shorts and toss them to god knows where. he's never gotten on his knees and licked a fat stripe along over their panties. never has he had to pull said panties to the side just so he could finally get a good look at how at your cunt.

♤ you were the only one who's clit he's mouthed at till his jaw ached. he didn't stop till he had to wrap his hands around your hips to hold you still.

♤ never once as taine let a regular, eagerly lick his precum from the slit to the point where he'd lull his head back everytime he felt their tongue dip into his slit. or had one force his cock into their mouth till the tip hit the back of their throat. and they stayed deepthroating him till he finally released. or had one lick up every last drop of cum that could find. no matter if it some was on his stomach, chest, thigh or on their face. he's never given a regular a couple puffs of his joint as a reward for sucking him to completion.

♤ he wondered if his weed made you like this. was it so good that it made you do your best to take him to the hilt, even though you could barely take a proper breath. probably it was the reason he'd take a minute or two cause the way your walls squeezed him, he swore he was gonna cum inside you right then and there.

♤ was his shit so good that it made you cry out his name and claw at his back with every thrust. had him having to slap your tits whenever you looked too far gone. make him tell you to how good you were, or that from the way your walls started to push him out, you were close. make him coo at you whenever you finally came, so you knew how proud he was. maybe it was why you bared the overwhelming sensation that your release brought so he could reach his edge. maybe that what made you mumbled about him cumming inside you.

♤ tempting but he preferred to release on your cunt so you could reach your hand down and desperately collect his droplets into your mouth. god he loved when you did that. he especially when you parted your slit so he could get one last lick before he let you suck it off his tongue.

♤ never had he had a regular make him feel that good to the point he gave them free weed.

#fontaine x reader #they cloned tyrone #fontaine they cloned tyrone #fontaine x black reader #☆° via writes °☆#fontaine smut

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rosenclaws · 3 months ago

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Oh boy! First of all-congratulations!! You're doing such wonderfull job! And I love your work ❤️ I have 2 promts if you don't mind. Just pick the one you like better and feel more comfy to write (boths are fluff couse im sucker for fluff)

1. Leopold Mountbatten “If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, holy shit, you’d realise how much I’ve fallen for you.” + countryside/fairytale?

2. Wolverine with simply comforting him after really nasty nightmare when he's calling his...mama in his dreams to comfort him? (Idk i always wanna hug this poor baby)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ love youuu

Chance || Leopold Mountbatten x Reader (Fairytale AU)

“If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, holy shit, you’d realize how much I’ve fallen for you.” + Fairytale AU

600 follower drabble masterlist

wc: 1.9k (OOPS)

a/n: Hello!! I love both of these prompts so much I'm gonna write both! This is prompt one! I also got carried away and it turned more into a oneshot oops!

As a child you dreamed of being a princess. Looking up at the big castle from your small bedroom in the attic. Your head was full of silly things. Dreaming that one day you'd be there in a pretty dress with a handsome prince. Growing up you the day dreams would follow you. People found you strange, always catching you humming and singing. You were far too kind, too generous.

Eventually reality had caught up with you. You were a peasant and the cruel children of the nobles made sure you knew it. They treated you like dirt. Like you were nothing, not even worth a second glance. Your dreams were slowly crushed. It was a harsh truth to swallow but then your mother died and you were left to take over the seamstress business as only a 16 year old.

Soon the only remnants of your childhood hopes only existed when you dreamed. They were silly anyways, you told yourself that as you went to work day in and day out. Thankfully work was flourishing.

The announcement of ball in the palace spread like fire. This prince was to be there and he was meant to be married soon. The ball was clearly a chance to meet the prince and impress him. The excitement was clear. Though they treated you poorly even the noblest of people couldn't deny that you were the best seamstress in all of the kingdom.

Orders upon orders flooded your small shop. Beautiful ballgowns that you could never afford in your wildest dreams. You couldn't help but feel the expensive fabric as you worked. Sometimes your mind would drift back to your old fantasies but you snapped yourself out of them. With only weeks away before you were panicking thinking of all the work you had to do.

When the bell of your shop rang one day you were ready to decline whoever had entered. Except when you looked up you were met with a very handsome man. He had a massive tear in his expensive looking coat and a nasty bruise under his eye.

"Sir! Are you alright?" You rushed to his aid. A sweet but pained smile on his face.

"My apologies, My name is Leo." He bowed his head and put his hand to his chest.

"I do not wish to inconvenience you but I am afraid I had no where else to go."

Leopold didn't meant to cause you any trouble. In fact he meant to lay as low as he could. The castle was boring him to death and the pressure of the royal ball was becoming too much for him. He just needed some fresh air. So he snuck out and spent the day in the town. Though he was to be king he was sheltered all his life and he made the mistake of wandering into the wrong part of town.

His clothes made him stick out amongst the crowds. When he saw two men threatening a young shopkeeper he jumped into action. He's skilled with a sword but with his fists he is not as trained. Leaving him with a bruise he wouldn't know how to explain to his father.

Still they left the shopkeeper alone but now he didn't know what to do. Stumbling into your shop by chance. You were, gorgeous. He watched you as you fixed his jacket and took care of his eye. Your hands were gentle and your smile was so sweet. But most shocking was that you had no clue who he was. No special treatment or fake words. He longed for this.

"Please, let me pay you for your services." He offers, though he has no money on him now he will pay you back.

"Nonsense, I'm happy to help." He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

"Thank you darling, I promise I will repay your kindness." The bell tower chimes and he knows he's running out of time. He must return home.

"Goodbye." He hurries out of your shop and you watch him go. A small frown on your face as you hope to see him again one day.

To your shock he returned the very next day. With more money than necessary in a fancy pouch. You refused to take any of it. Despite his protests he eventually relented. Instead he asked to help. Leopold wasn't the best with sewing but he would watch his mother do so all the time. The orders were looming over your head and you did need the help.

You grew closer, learning things about Leo as you worked. He was kind, a true gentleman and he loved to draw. While you worked you told him about your life. Smiling through the stories of your mother, through the childhood hardships. When Leo would prick his fingers you would always patch him back up.

The weeks flew by until it was the day before the ball. As you handed our your orders you couldn’t help but be overcome with sadness. Not for the ball but for the worry that Leo would stop coming once your orders were finished. The door chimes and you perk up as you see Leo.

“Hello, I’m afraid I have nothing left to work on.” You tell him sadly.

“That is alright. I did not come for the work.” There's a hint of nervousness in his eyes as he sits on a stool.

“Are you going to the ball?” He asks and you laugh sadly.

“No, The ball is not a place for someone like me.” Leo’s eyes sadden and he moves closer to you.

His hand cupping your face gently. His piercing hazel eyes are enchanting. Like a spell you never want to wake up from. You were falling in love with him.

"You could accompany me." He offers. Biting his lip as he prays you say yes.

This is what he wants, not someone who only wants him for his title or because he's the prince. He wants something real, something meaningful and that's what he has with you. At least he prays you feel the same way.

“Leo I-“

“My prince! What on earth are you doing here?” A royal guard barges through the doors and you take a step back. Eyes wide in shock as you process what you’ve just heard.

“Prince?” Leopold looks guilty as he tries to stammer out an explanation. They must have followed him. He hadn't been subtle with his adventures and it looks like they finally found him.

“Darling I apologize I-“ The guard grabs him by the shoulder, forcing him out of the shop despite Leo’s protests. He's calling your name, trying to fight the guards but to no avail.

You’re stunned to silence as you watch him leave. The prince? This whole time he was the prince. You closed your shop and spent the rest of the night upstairs. It’s not fair.

You thought you had something special. That you didn’t need the fairytale life when you had Leo but it turns out it was all a lie. Was this simply a game to him? Bored of the castle so he decided to toy with the life of a peasant? You were utterly heartbroken.

The ball passes and you choose to ignore any talk of. Leo doesn’t return and it’s for the best as you reopen your small shop. Business was slow and people went back to treating you like dirt.

It was a rude wakeup call from the last few weeks with Leo but those were in the past now. There’s a loud knock at your door and you choose to ignore it. The shop is closed today.

Still the knocking persists and you become fed up. Such rude behavior! You walk downstairs only to find Leo at the door. You open it and usher him inside before anyone else can see him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask harshly. He seems taken back for a moment.

“I came to see you.”

“Well what can I do for you my prince.” Your voice is void of any emotion as you address him. Even looking at him is painful now and as upset with him as you are he is still your soon to be king.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that please.” He hates it. He is your Leo.

“I am so deeply sorry for not telling you my true identity but I was afraid. You saw me as someone normal and I wanted more.” He tries to explain.

“So what? Was I just a plaything to you? A mirage of normalcy that you were going to drop the second you got bored?” You ask with tears in your eyes, anger flooding your senses.

“No! Never. Please you have to understand it started as an escape but the more I time I spent with you the more I longed to be by your side. You're what I want darling.”

You are the moon and the stars that light his path, the breath of fresh air. Leopold met you by chance but now that he knows you he cannot let you pass him by.

“Do you even know what you’re saying? You are the crowned prince. You will be King. I am nothing compared to your status, your position and to tease me with such a life is cruel!" Leopold can feel his heart breaking at the sight of your tears.

"My love," He cups your face and wipes away the tears.

"Please, do not cry." He presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You close your eyes as you try and commit this moment to memory. What its like to be held by him, to have his lips on yours.

“If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, you’d realize how much I’ve fallen for you.” He confesses. Your heart leaps, his eyes shine with sincerity as he ghosts his lips over yours again. Silently begging for another kiss.

"Leo..." You want him, you want to give in but there's so much in your path.

"Don't think about it, just focus on me. I love you. Status means nothing to me when all I want is your love. So please, make me the happiest man in the kingdom." He lets go of your face and kneels down. Revealing a box with the prettiest ring you had ever seen. He was serious about this. He wants no one else by his side for the rest of his life.

"Oh Leo, Yes yes yes!" You grab his face and smash your lips to his, Leo groans as the kiss deepens. You're desperate and apart of you is afraid to open your eyes, wondering if he'd disappear when you do. He wraps his arms around you and dips you down. Lips moving in sync as you get lost in each other.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." He whispers as he peppers kisses along your jaw. He's your prince, your childhood dream coming to take you away. He slips the ring onto your finger and you bask in its beauty.

"I love you too Leo." He grins so wide it makes you forget all your worries.

His eyes so full of love and hope that you decide you'd follow him anywhere. Hand in hand he whisks you away, promising to love you forever and you believe him. Your dreams were coming true and you couldn't be happier it's with him.

Your prince, your hope, your love.

#leopold mountbatten #hugh jackman x reader #leopold mountbatten x reader #kate and leopold #600 followers

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loveywon · 2 years ago

Text

♡𓂃 ALWAYS BE HERE !

part 2 of START NOW !

pairing: jungwon x gn!reader

synopsis: after being stuck with jungwon in a new and unfamiliar world, you start developing newfound feelings about him.

wc: 4.0k+

warnings: fluff! there’s a baby, one (1) mention of throwing up, the fluff in this is so sickening seriously i feel gross, i think that's it tbh, not proofread as per usual

a/n: surprise!! thank you guys sm for 800 notes on my first fic, im literally experiencing whiplash from it. hope this was written well to your likings, i love you all and thank you guys again<333.

you feel like you’ve been slapped in the face.

jungwon has basically adapted the routine within the first week, between taking care of the kid that is apparently yours and his job that he only found out two days ago because he got a call saying “you’re gonna get fired if you keep skipping work like this” from sunghoon. with a look at his checking account, his eyes almost popped out of his head with how much money was in there. when he showed you, you simply shrugged. of course jungwon was going to be successful, with how his high school life is (now, was), he’s bound to live a fulfilling life. he’s taken aback by your nonchalance to the money in the account, and you have to swallow your pride down to admit vocally to him that you always admired his dedication to the academic school life.

speaking of, you found yourself swallowing your pride often. almost too often, you think, but you feel like its character development, or at least it’s what jungwon says. he’s done a great job at making sure you’re not too overwhelmed in this new life that you two have to adapt, and you feel kind of bad that you’re not really doing much with helping out. you do try, really! it’s just the fact that not being around kids often is a tad bit hard and being thrown into a situation where you have one of your own is more difficult than you thought it would be. jungwon does a great job at teaching you the basics, and he always reassures you that you’re doing great with the baby, even if it’s just holding her or feeding her.

you also find yourself being more open with jungwon. it still feels foreign, and you always hesitate still and almost back out often times, but you’re determined to stick to your promise and to at least try, because jungwon has been nothing but an angel to you ever since, and the newfound realization that he has been pining for you this entire time makes you want to try harder for him. you’ve confided in him and you start to feel more safe around him as well, and admittedly, it’s something you never thought would happen, but when jungwon tells you every moment that has made him fall harder for you, you start to feel fuzzy and warm, even giggling a little. jungwon feels over the moon, like he’s absolutely won at life. he doesn’t want to leave.

on the other hand, you want to leave. as cute as the baby is and nice the house is, something is still off and you don’t know how jungwon does everything so naturally and pretends like everything is so normal when it’s so far from reality. neither of you have figured out how the two of you got here, because there was quite literally nothing to go off of. every night you wonder if you’ll ever be able to go back to high school, but now you’re letting yourself fall into the daily routine you and jungwon curated.

the sunlight shines through the blinds, and you’re already awake. every morning feels like deja vu, and you’re not used to sleeping on a foreign mattress. jungwon lays on the floor beside you, a blanket wrapped around him like a burrito. he insisted on sleeping on the floor because he didn’t want to pressure you, even though you assured him it was fine, but he still was stubborn and laid out his own makeshift bed beside you. it’s a sweet gesture, you think, and every night you invite him to sleep up on the bed because it can’t be comfortable to sleep on the floor, but he still refuses and makes himself comfy.

you lean down, poking his shoulder. he stirs, but he’s still asleep. you smile slightly at his cute sleeping state, but you slap a hand over your mouth when you catch yourself. something you’re not used to is smiling at something whenever jungwon does something because you’re normally grimacing in disgust. you decide to let him sleep in and try to take care of the baby yourself since he’s been doing everything lately. he must’ve been so exhausted, and you feel yourself frowning.

you roll yourself out of bed, making your way to the baby’s room. she blinks her eyes open as soon as she hears the door knob turn, and she reaches her small arms out for you. “hi, sweetheart, had a good sleep?” you ask, even though you know you’ll only get random babbles as a reply. you tickle her side and she giggles. you feel a fuzzy feeling again, and you admire the baby for a few minutes. one thing that ‘future you’ didn’t put in the scrapbook was the baby’s name, so you and jungwon refer to the baby as the baby. it feels almost too adulting to give the baby a name, so honestly you’ve been avoiding it but jungwon doesn’t bring it up either so you assume it’s mutual. you go over to the little counter by the wall and start making the baby’s milk, remembering what jungwon had taught you last week. pouring the milk into the baby bottle, you walk back to the crib and pick the baby up, opting to sit on the carpeted floor and feeding her the bottle. you smile as you simply look at her, almost fondly but it’s still off.

jungwon walks in, rubbing his eyes groggily. he woken up not too long ago, and upon not seeing you in the bed, he almost panics. he thought you somehow had went back to high school or something, and he was just left here. he sighs in relief when he heard the milk machine stir loudly from the baby’s room. after his vision’s finally clear and sees you feeding the baby, he matches your smile and sits down on the floor across from you. the only reason why he has not brought up the baby’s name is because you haven’t, and he thinks he knows you enough to know that you’re not used to this new world, and he also knows its scary to put a label on things and naming the baby feels almost too official, like the two of you are stuck here. but jungwon doesn’t feel stuck, and he almost feels content in this new life. he has you now, with him, what more could he ask for? just like you, he wonders if you two will ever go back. but he’s more worried if you’ll still try to reciprocate his feelings for you if you two go back, and if you will forget everything that happened in this life. he’ll go back to square one, and he’s not sure if he can go through it again. although if it’s for you, he knows he’ll go through hell and back if it meant being with you.

he leans forward a bit to watch the baby drink from her bottle, and your gaze changes from the baby to jungwon. it’s a quiet moment, no things are spoken between the two of you and it’s definitely less awkward than it would have been a week ago. silence is now comfortable to you, which is very odd considering you hate any silent moments and you always have to break the silence whenever it happens. “she is so cute,” jungwon whispers, but still loud enough that you can hear. you nod in agreement, she really is cute, and she took a lot of features from jungwon. the resemblance is almost uncanny and you think it was obvious from the start that the baby is definitely jungwon’s. the baby finishes her bottle and pops it out of her mouth, and jungwon takes it to the built in sink on the counter to wash it. she’s dozing off in your arms, and you swear you almost loudly coo at her but you catch yourself in time. you stand up and lay her down gently in the crib as jungwon finishes washing the baby bottle.

you two make your way downstairs and you sit down on the kitchen island with the scrapbook laid out in front of you. this would make it the second time you’ve looked through the book, and you wonder if you missed anything from the first time you flipped through it. jungwon busies himself with the stove, preparing breakfast for the both of you. you lean your head on one hand, opening up the scrapbook. you don’t remember ever picking up the hobby of scrapbooking, but then again, it feels like you’ve aged ten years, and a lot of things can change in ten years. you also think a lot of things can change in a mere week.

as you continue to flip through the pages, you stop at a page that had pictures of you and jungwon in front of different landscapes around the world. it’s secretly your favorite page because you’ve always wanted to travel, so to know that you did, even if you don’t recall, it makes you feel a little giddy. maybe when you go back home, you’ll get to experience it. as you’re scanning through the pictures, one of the tapes keeping the pictures on the page loosens up, and you try to fix it until you see handwriting on the back. you furrow your brows in confusion, taking the entire tape off and flipping the picture over. the entire scrapbook didn’t have any writing, so seeing something written on the back was new to you. and not only was it your own handwriting, but what was written on it gave you goosebumps. you always felt odd about this entire situation, even though it was quite obvious that you’re currently in the future, it was just the question of why and how.

‘you’ll be here one day! 2/17/2034’

you flip the photo back around and messily tape it back onto the scrapbook page before shutting it and shoving it to the side. you try your best to think nothing of it, and it could mean literally anything if you think about it deep enough, right? wrong, you frown. it’s too oddly specific, and it’s like you knew that you want to experience traveling. you stare off into space, your bottom lip capturing between your teeth. jungwon finishes cooking, and he places a plate in front of you before taking a seat beside you. he looks at you when you don’t make a move to eat, leaning forward to see your face. he waves a hand in your face, calling out your name. you snap out of it again, and you shake your head. “sorry,” you mumble, grabbing the fork he gives you and taking a bite out of the eggs. “mm, this is so good! seriously, how did i not know you can cook like this?” you turn to him, quickly changing the topic before he could ask what was wrong. you know that you’re technically hiding and guarding yourself again, but you let yourself just this once because you’ve convinced yourself that you’re only inconveniencing jungwon with your thoughts.

he shrugs, “because you always fought with me back then?” he answers obviously, and you let out a silent “right”. the week has felt like an entire year so you almost forget that you literally hated him just a week ago. “sorry. but you know, why didn’t you ever clear up the misunderstanding with me? we could have been friends then,” you ask, it’s simply out of curiosity because it’s not like it would have changed anything now. he shrugs again, “i don’t think you would have listened to me, to be honest. you probably would’ve death glared at me and killed me with silence… and i guess i was just content with you bickering with me because you were still talking to me. i don’t know if you still would’ve talked to me if i cleared it up, and i still want to talk to you.” he replies, smiling more to himself because he thinks it’s kind of funny.

“ohh. that’s fair, i guess. i probably wouldn’t have talked to you if you cleared it up, to be honest as well. would have moved on with my life and not think twice about it,” you shrugged, continuing to eat your breakfast. you always play the nonchalance role, but jungwon always has a way with his words that make butterflies flutter in your stomach and it almost makes you feel queasy even. “but, i still want to talk to you too.” you smile at him, and he returns your smile. he thinks you’ve definitely put in effort with tolerating him, because a week ago you probably would’ve spilled your guts if you heard what he said, and he appreciates your efforts. he’s still not really expecting an ‘i like you back’ from you, he still thinks its unrealistic. it doesn’t mean he’ll stop trying and vying for you.

you finish your plate and grab jungwon’s empty plate to the sink to wash, and he watches idly since the baby is still asleep and there isn’t much to do. you think jungwon’s already used to the new life, but you really couldn’t be more wrong. he’s used to taking care of himself already, which is why it comes to natural to him, but he’s really not used to the whole thing of you being nice with him and the fact that there is a baby in the room above that is his. his baby, your baby. he gets fuzzy thinking about it, which is why he thinks he’s trying his best to take care of the baby with little to no experience. his cousins are the closest thing to experience he has.

once you finish with the dishes, the two of you silently make your way onto the couch. it’s not really awkward silence, as again, you feel more comfortable around jungwon now. but you’ve been itching to ask him the question that you think about every night, and you think that it’s been an entire week; he must want to go home, right? so you ask, “hey, jungwon?” he perks his head up at your voice, wide eyes giving you his full attention and you melt a little bit unknowingly. “do you know…if we’ll ever go back?” you question and his brows raise in response. he purses his lips into a thin line, breaking eye contact with you to think. he knows his answer is something you don’t really want to hear, but he wants to be honest with you.

“no… or well, i don’t know. but it’s not so bad here, is it? i think it’s kind of nice…” he answers you, but his voice fades out towards the end of his sentence because he knows you disagree. he sees the way you lie awake in bed, silently hoping to wake up to your childhood bed and return back to high school normally. you, however, don’t expect his answer. yes, it it’s not bad here. but you really miss home and your high school friends, and you feel like you’ll never be used to this new life that you and jungwon were thrown into. you don’t respond to him, and you slump into the couch a little bit. he meets your eyes again, and even though you’re looking straight ahead and not him, he slumps with you and leans a little bit towards you. his scent fills your senses, and if he didn’t smell so good you definitely would have pushed him away immediately. but it’s jungwon, so you don’t.

he blows your hair in a playful manner, and it sticks to your face annoyingly. “hey!” you laugh as you push hair out of your face, finally meeting his gaze. he gives you a smile that you know and love, a smile that makes you forget what the two of you were talking about earlier. “even if we don’t get out of here, i’ll still be here for you,” he says sincerely, and you know it’s sincere with the way his eyes shine as he looks at you with so much admiration that it makes you feel like jello. you don’t doubt his words for a second, so you nod, giving him a slight smile. “thank you. me too, even though i know i don’t really do much around here,” you mumble, pouting slightly because you feel bad for him taking most of the responsibilities and setting aside his worries for taking care of you and the baby.

jungwon simply shrugs, “you being here is enough for me.”

another two long days pass, and you’re snuggled up next to the baby in the master's bedroom where you and jungwon sleep. you and the baby are both fast asleep, even though you tried to stay awake until jungwon got home from his work. you’ve stayed up the past week whenever he’d go to work, but you suppose the sleepless nights have finally caught up to you. jungwon announces that he’s home from downstairs, and is appalled to not see you watching television or something in the living room. he assumes something is happening with the baby upstairs, so he quickly rushes up the steps and enters the baby’s room to only find neither of you there. he panics a little, and it feels a little bit like deja vu when you weren’t in bed that one morning. he prays that you didn’t find a way to leave, somehow taking the baby with you. he rushes to your shared bedroom, only opening the door to see you and the baby cuddled up together, eyes closed in a slumber.

he thinks he must’ve done something in his past life to get such a beautiful sight in front of him, with his own eyes.

he smiles at the two of you, before deciding to change into clean clothes so he can join you two in the bed. he decides, for just this once, he’ll let himself be selfish and enjoy this domestic moment. you feel the bed dip beside you, and it stirs you awake. you turn around, only to meet the soft eyes of jungwon. “i’m sorry, did i wake you?” he asks quietly, careful to not wake the baby up. you shake your head, “it’s okay. how was work?” you whisper back, and this conversation feels so real, it’s so domestic and you feel sick. mentally, the two of you are still teenagers so even having this conversation feels so surreal and you don’t know if you like it or not. you do know, however, that you like jungwon. you feel pushed to your limit, and everything that has happened made you realize a few things about yourself that you didn’t know before. you couldn’t ask for anyone better to be stuck with.

“it was alright. are you tired?” he replies. his voice is laced with such genuine concern for you, and you can’t help but bury your head further into the pillow and towards his chest. jungwon’s taken aback slightly with this change of position, but he doesn’t show it, or at least you choose to not point it out. “i like you, so much. it makes me feel physically sick, not gonna lie.” you confess suddenly in a quiet whisper, and this time, it’s obvious that jungwon is shocked. if it weren’t for the silent white noise of the air conditioning and nothing else, he would have missed what you said but the words ‘i like you’ rings in his head and he has to remind himself that the baby is still sleeping beside the two of you. his absence in words make you feel even more sick; did his feelings for you disappear? you can understand it, if that’s the case. being stuck with someone for more than a week makes it easier to stop liking someone. you fear that’s what happened.

“i literally can’t even believe this right now,” he whispers under his breath, and your head shoots up to look at him. his eyes are brighter than ever, you think it’s brighter than the sun and you can’t look away. “i like you too — even though you already know…but i like you so much too. sorry i make you sick. i’ll always be here to make you feel better, though!” he assures with a sweet, toothy smile. you hate him so much. you don’t understand how he was able to change your feelings about him into a complete 180 degrees, and yes you’re complaining about it but you secretly thank whoever put you both into the future.

“ugh, you’re disgusting. please kiss me now.” you grin, and he grins back until both of your lips meet in a soft peck. it’s sweet and innocent, and it’s more than what jungwon and you could ask for. “you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this moment,” jungwon says cheesily, and you roll your eyes. you make another comment about how those words are so gross but you know you felt a part of you melt. the two of you soon fall into a blissful sleep, wrapped around each other’s arms. it doesn’t occur to either of you that it’s the first time you’re sharing the bed with jungwon, but it doesn’t matter because the next morning when you wake up, it feels like it’s the best sleep you’ve ever had in your life.

a blaring alarm wakes you up, and when you open your eyes, you find yourself in your own bed again, in your parents house. you rush to get out of bed, checking your mirror, only to see the teenager version of you once again. you smile to yourself, touching your face and you’re relieved. but the feeling is quickly set aside when jungwon crosses your mind again, and you pick up your phone to text him. you then realize you don’t have his number, because you literally hated him. you suck in a breath and decide to get ready for school, because it’s the only way you’ll be able to see him. if you do.

you put on the first thing you see in your closet, rushing down the stairs and your parents don’t even spare a glance at you, just a “good morning sweetie!”, as if time didn’t pass when you were in a different time. you speed walk to school, and the halls are already all crowded with students talking and walking to their first class of the day. your friend greets you, but you don’t really pay much attention to what they’re talking about, and you ask them, “where’s jungwon?” they give you an odd look, “why’re you looking for him? didn’t you literally tell him that ‘anyone who has to wake up next to him is the unluckiest person ever to exist’ just yesterday?” they quote you, and you roll your eyes, waving them off. “doesn’t matter. have you seen him?” you brush it off, but when you turn your head to the left you see the boy you’ve been looking for. “never mind. gotta go, see you!” you say goodbye to your friend, who is only left staring blankly at your running figure.

“jungwon!” you say his name as you’re making your way towards him, and his eyes meet yours. it’s only been a night, and you’ve never missed someone this much before. he smiles upon seeing you, and the two of you meet in a hug. “how did we get back?!” you ask ecstatically, but you honestly don’t care about how. you’re just happy that you’re both back with newfound perspectives of each other. he shrugs his shoulders and laughs, “i don’t know! i guess a kiss solves everything?” he jokes and makes puckering lips to you. you scrunch your nose up, holding your hand in front of his face as you feign disgust. “shut up, i hate you,” you mumble.

you both know it’s a lie.

taglist!: @hafsa-hoofsa-heefs @hyunes4ngel

#enhypen x reader #jungwon x reader #jungwon drabbles #jungwon oneshots #jungwon imagines #jungwon scenarios #jungwon fluff #enhypen x y/n #jungwon x y/n #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #jungwon fanfic #loveywonenha #jungwon enhypen #yang jungwon

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 9 months ago

Text

Orange Blossoms

Pairing: Buck x Y/N

Word Count: mmmmm I forgot to check and I’m lazy

Notes: Lets see if I actually write this!! I’m literally in the middle of Strawberries and Cream rn, it’s 5/15/24 (now) and I’m just…. Testing the waters with releasing the first chapter P.S I DID NOT EDIT THIS BEFORE POSTING I HATE MYSELF IM DOING IT RN

Chapter 1: Eddie is a Traitor

It was just supposed to be a normal Thursday. Go to work, fight some fires, harass Eddie, go home. Do it all over again the next day. That’s how it was every day and he liked it. Especially the people he worked with, that was his family.

He’s putting on a different work shirt when he looks up, a girl is standing there with her back to him holding a helmet in her hands. It’s sleek and pink. It’s got the most adorable cat ears on it too. He’s gotta take another look at it. As he walks she turns around, her hair flying over her shoulder.

It’s like he can hear wedding bells going off in his brain. He shortcircuits immediately as she starts walking towards him. He can hear the soft thud of her shoes, he’s surprised he thought angels had wings. She smiles pleasantly at him, the California sun creating a little halo behind her. Or he’s having a stroke he can’t tell.

“Hi I’m-” He sticks his hand out and Bobby suddenly steps in front of him

“No, you aren’t”

He knew that look. “Come on honey, I’ll introduce you to the others” you waved shyly at Buck as Bobby turned you around by your shoulders and steered you upstairs

Buck stood there, his hand still out as he watched Bobby march you up to Hen and Chimney. You giggled a little at the top of the stairs when you saw him still staring, a dumb look on his face

“You good?” Eddie gave him a high five as he walked by and Buck blinked slowly

“I think I’m in love”

Eddie snorted and bumped his side, pushing him out of the way so he could get to his locker

“Isn’t that like the fourth time this month you’ve said that? Who was it this time”

He melted on the spot, sighing dreamily and tilting his head to the side

“It’s…”

Eddie looked at him expectantly

“It’s uh…”

Eddie put his head against his locker, snickering into the metal

“You don’t remember?”

“I don’t think she said. I don’t think she had the chance”

“Why wouldn’t she have had the chance?”

“Bobby took her upstairs”

Eddie turned to look at him again. “Are you talking about a girl, about this tall” he holds his hand up midway to his chest “curly pink hair? Skin tanned to the gods”

“That’s my angel”

“Dude. That’s Athena’s niece”

It’s like he gets hit by a train and his entire world comes crashing down and really what even was the point in living anymore if he couldn’t have you? He might as well do a sweet flip off a cliff. At least he could go out in a cool way

“You do know how to backflip,” Eddie says as he shuts his locker

“Huh?” Buck looks at him now, a little dazed. A weird look on his face

“You were spiraling right? Because you think your life is over now”

“My life is over now!”

“No, it’s not.” He takes him by the arm and jogs upstairs, tapping the railing when they get up there. It catches your attention and you turn your head, your hands clasped sweetly in front of you.

Honestly, everything about you was sweet. From your soft pink hair, down to the white platform boots you had on. He liked the purple plaid skirt you had on. With a little purple beret and the matching purple cardigan. You looked like a doll, a very sweet, very cute, doll. God, you were too sweet for him

“Oh my god. Evan!” His name is shouted at him and he flinches back. Your hand is out towards him, and Eddie is standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders. Bobby has his arms crossed over his chest and Hen and Chim are looking at each other

“I said this is Y/N” Eddie sounds stressed and that makes Buck blush. He’d gotten lost in you all over again.

“Oh-oh. Uh Hi I’m, Bevan- no shit Barkley no-no god. Buck. I’m- my name is Evan I- I go by Buck. Hi.”

You’re giggling as he stumbles over his words and god he wishes you wouldn’t do that, it just sounds so cute and you’re making him flustered. Fuck usually he’s so smooth and flirty, what the hell gives??

“Hi Evan” You smile up at him and he swears he’s never seen anything or anyone so pretty

“You have pretty teeth,” He says dreamily as he’s shaking your hand. Eddie curses under his breath and you laugh, still shaking his hand

“T-thank you? Um. I brush twice a day!”

“Oh it shows!! it- it shows. You know that you uh-you take care of yourself and I mean- I could have said I liked your nail polish cause I do!!…it matches your clothes but no! No… I had to- I had to say your teeth”

You cover your mouth, trying to keep from laughing any harder. He’s so flustered and his cheeks are so pink and you feel a little bad. And he’s literally still shaking your hand. Eddie pulls your hand from his and slaps Buck’s down, giving him a “wtf” look over your head. Buck clears his throat and shoves his hands in his pockets

“Well! I gotta go fill the truck! You know gotta make it all nice and full of stuff that we need I’m just. I’m gonna go” He points down the stairs and goes running, you wave awkwardly at his retreating figure with a little smile on your face

“Uh bye! It was nice meeting you!!”

Buck walks out of the station, dumping the bucket of water out onto the pavement. He hadn’t seen you for most of the day and he was glad.

Okay not that glad, he wanted to stare at you all day, but at least he wasn’t acting like a dumbass anymore

“Sabrina Carpenter was right. I cannot find my chill. God her teeth?! Seriously??” He mutters to himself as he watches the water soak into the ground.

“Talking to yourself?”

You ask as you walk towards him, he spins around watching you walk over. God, even the way you walked, with all the confidence in the world was sexy as hell.

“Yeah” his voice cracks and you giggle when he lets his head fall back in embarrassment. Fuck was he actually 15 again

“Whatcha talkin' about?” He notices you’ve got a white mini backpack. It’s cute. God of course it matches your outfit

“Oh you know, your teeth” He visibly cringes and you slap your hand over your mouth trying to control your laughter

“Oh come on it wasn’t that bad”

“Yes. Yes, it was. You’re just being nice”

“I think it was a genuine compliment!” you protest as you stop in front of him. You’re so much shorter than he is, he just wants to put his hand on your head and ruffle your hair. He bets you’d hate that, but god it would be cute

“It was. A stupid one, but you know, you do have pretty teeth…and nails!” He smiles at you, his cheeks are pink and he’s flustered again but he’s outside and the sun is shining down on you and you’re glowing

“You have pretty teeth too,” You tell him, smiling and giving him a little wink “and a cute butt!”

His mouth drops as you walk past him with a smug little smirk “There! Now we both said something embarrassing!”

He watches you walk over to a pink motorcycle. It’s sexy and sleek and clearly customized. He watches you climb on and start to put on your helmet

“That’s yours?!” He asks as he jogs over. It’s a little big for you, but you obviously know what you’re doing

“Of course it is, what do you think?”

“Uh I think I want to be a passenger Princess one day that’s for damn sure” He gives your helmet a little tap with his knuckles

“Hope you have two of those”

You giggle and pick a couple pieces of fuzz from the inside of it and toss them aside

“Actually my white one is coming in today! Maybe I can come pick you up from work sometime and we can mess around”

“Really? That sounds so cool! He says, he’s forgotten a lot of his nerves now. Now you’re just a pretty girl on a pretty bike

“Yeah here, gimme your phone!”

He takes his phone from his pocket and you add your number, you hand it back and flip your hair over your shoulder

“Here, take a contact photo of me while I look cool”

He laughs and takes a few steps back while you put your helmet on and do a cute little pose, your head tilted with peace signs

He snaps the photo and sets it, and then he secretly sets it as his wallpaper too. He gives you a thumbs up and you make a call me sign. He fumbles his phone for a second before calling you

“You look so freaking cool” He says as soon as you answer, his cheeks flushing again.

“Why thank you”you giggle “Send me a picture of you later so I can have a contact photo for you!”

“Oh yeah okay sure! Uh-yeah”

“Can you do me one more favor?”

“Anything” He says it way too fast

“I forgot to get Eddie’s number, he invited me for drinks tonight but Uncle Bobby pulled me away too fast to get his number” you’re rolling your eyes at Bobby as Buck’s heart is shattering

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah sure I can do that. I’ll send it now…I gotta go finish mopping, I’ll see you whenever I suppose. Uh- Bye”

He hangs up before you can say anything and he awkwardly waves bye before running back into the station. He can hear your bike start up, he doesn’t stop hiding behind the doors until he hears you leave.

He’s not sending that number.

Ever.

Okay yes he is because he said he’d do anything but he’s gonna kill Eddie first so you two can’t go out.

He mopes all the way upstairs, stomping his feet until he gets over to the comfy chairs and flops down in it. He sinks down far into the seat and crossing his arms over his chest. He’s not talking to Eddie for as long as he lives

“Hey man you got a second”

“No”

He turns away and curls up his legs. He barely fits in the chair anymore and Eddie chuckles

“You poutin’?” Eddie pokes at his thigh

“No”

“Okay. Anyway have you seen Y/N I need to talk to her”

“No”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, walking over to stand in front of Buck

“Hey what’s goin on buddy?” His voice is softer this time, worried that something happened to him.

“Nothing”

Buck tries to curl up even tighter but this chair was not built for a man his size throwing a tantrum

“Buck come on just tell me what’s going on, please?”

“Leave me alone, Judas”

Eddie’s mouth pops open and he whacks his legs “What did I do?!”

“I said I didn’t wanna talk about it!” He snaps and Eddie rolls his eyes, he pulls Bucks legs and they fall easily. Now he’s just weirdly slumped and still not moving

“Buck. Just talk to me, you big fat baby”

“Why? So you can call your girlfriend?!” He gives him double middle fingers

“What girlfriend?!” Eddie asks, his eyes squinting

“Y/N! She wanted me to send her your number!”

“And have you?”

“No,, I hate you”

“Can you just do it?”

“Can your mom just do it”

“Okay you know what-“ Eddie attacks Buck, tickling his sides and Buck shrieks, falling off the chair and laughing as he and Eddie tumble to the floor, Eddie rips his phone from his pocket and opens it

“Oh my god does she know you made her your screensaver?”

He pins Buck and sends you his number, Buck fights his way from Eddie’s hold and punches him in the side, it’s not hard at all but knocks him off

“How dare you tickle attack me Edmundo Diaz! I thought we were friends”

“You called me Judas!”

“Because you are!!”

“No I'm not! Asshat! You didn’t even let me talk you just hated me!”

“Yeah because you asked my girl on a date!”

“She’s literally not your girl?? And also it’s not a date dumbass! I was going to ask you if you could come and if not reschedule with her! So you could have some time with her, and I could cover for you sounding like an idiot”

Buck gasps and slaps his cheeks, his eyes huge

“Eddieee” he whines and Eddie rolls his eyes, getting off the floor, Buck stands up with him and jumps on him, wrapping his arms and legs around him like a koala. He nearly knocks them over again

“You did that for meee?”

“I will drop your ass over the railing”

Buck isn’t sure what to wear so he brings a small mountain of clothes over to Eddie’s house in the form of a large suitcase. He heaves it onto Eddie’s bed and it pops open easily when he unzips it

“Do you know what she’s wearing?” Buck asks as he watches Eddie go through the suitcase

“No…” he mumbles distractedly as he sets aside a couple of shirts “But I can call her”

“Does she know I’m coming?” He twiddles his thumbs nervously, chewing his bottom lip. Eddie flicks his cheek and he stops, frowning at him

“Yeah she knows. But if you call her it’ll seem like you want to match”

“But if you call her it’ll seem like I asked you to ask for me”

“Damn you’ve got a point” Eddie sighs, holding the edge of the suitcase

“Is it just the three of us tonight?”

“Yeah…but I’ve got an idea” Eddie grabs his phone and texts Hen. He and Buck spend a few minutes going through the suitcase and organizing it before she calls

“Let me get this straight,” She says on speaker “You want me to pretend like I’m coming for drinks tonight, to find out what color Y/N is wearing so Buck can match her? And then I say oh Karen wanted to go on a date instead whoops can’t make it”

“Yes,” They say in unison

“...I’ll call you back”

Buck fist pumps and Eddie chuckles at him

“You really wanna impress her huh?”

“You know she said I could ride on her motorcycle?” Buck falls back on the bed, holding a pillow tightly to his chest

“Oh god she was so sexy when she got on that bike Eddie, I swear to god I nearly creamed my pants”

“Ew”

“She looked so, so badass. Which is crazy considering what she was wearing because at first I thought she looked like a doll you know-“

“Buck?” Eddie stares at his phone

“-And she still looked like a doll even on the bike but she went from a super cute doll to a-

“Buck” he looks up at him, waving his phone in front of his face

“-Super sexy doll. You know what I mean? God, she’s so versatile”

His phone pings and he picks it up “I wonder what she’s gonna-” He stares at the picture Eddie just sent him. You’re standing in front of a mirror with your little peace sign. You’ve got a black mini skirt on with a high slit on the thigh, a black strappy tank top with a corset front and a set of black platform boots. There’s a leather jacket hanging over your arm and a black heart shaped purse.

“Hen says she said she’s just gotta accessorize and then she’s done” Eddie’s voice is quiet, his jaw would still be on the floor if Buck’s wasn’t already. He starts going through the suitcase, trying to find something. Buck has good options. It’s just hard to be on your level. But they’re both gonna damn well try.

“I- I think I-“

“Buck I swear to god if you creamed your pants I’m gonna throw up”

They show up “fashionably late” to the bar. But really it’s just because after Buck finally recovered he changed at least seven times before they finally decided on the right outfit. He’s wearing a tight fitting black button down with a few of the buttons undone, because Eddie says it showcases his muscles the best and because having the sleeves quartered drives the ladies crazy. He’s got dark black jeans on and his work shoes, which are shined to the gods because in his rush to grab clothes he did not grab shoes.

They walk in together, with Eddie purposely wearing a little bit of a loser fitting and more relaxed kind of outfit, nice blue jeans, and a flannel. He wore his work shoes so it looks like they rushed but also didn’t rush. Effortlessly putting together a flawless outfit.

Nailed it.

“You think she’ll be mad we’re late” Buck’s voice cracks again and Eddie snorts

“No, she seemed perfectly fine. She’s over there” He points to the booth where you’re sitting, sipping on a fruity-looking drink.

He leads Buck over, they practiced this so Buck could sort of be revealed. It made sense when they did it at home

“Hey Y/N! Sorry we’re late” Eddie slides in on the opposite side of the booth and takes off his coat, putting it next to him so Buck is forced to sit by you…oh yeah it’s all going to plan

“Oh it’s okay! I was a little late myself so it all worked out!” You scoot over a little, patting the bench next to you. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes roll over his body, you bite your lip a little and look away, feeling your cheeks get hot

“You guys picked a cool place” you clear your throat as Buck sits next to you, putting his arm on the back of the booth to get comfy. He smells good, like the ocean and summer and a little smokey and god does he look good too.

“Actually it was Bucks's idea. You know what I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna order our drinks at the bar and bring them over” Eddie excuses himself, and the two of you are left alone. You turn your body to face Buck’s, and now it’s his turn for his eyes to roam over your body. You looked stunning in the picture but in person? That was a whole other ball game.

“You uh- you look pretty Y/N. It’s a really different style from earlier”

Your cheeks flush and you smile at him a bit shyly “Thanks, I like to wear a lot of different styles actually! It’s fun!” You scoot a little closer to him now, your knees touching

“You look super good to you know, you um-you clean up pretty well”

His heart is practically beating out of his chest as he watches you reach for your drink, taking a long slow sip. He notices your hands trembling and frowns

“Hey, are you okay?” He takes your hands, holding them gently “You’re shaking”

“Uh- I’m, I’m good I’m- I’m so” you pull your hands away quickly and reach for your drink again, he pushes it away a little and hooks your chin with his finger, making you look up at him. He’s staring into your eyes, but he looks worried as his firefighter's brain turns on

“Have you eaten anything? Your drink seems a little strong for an empty stomach, maybe I should go order you something”

You put your hands on his chest to make him sit back down “No! No that’s okay I’m fine! Uh- I’m- okay” you take a deep breath “Can I be honest with you?”

“You can tell me anything Y/N. I’m here for you” he turns your palms and kisses them before holding them to his chest to warm them up.

“Y-you’re making me nervous” you gulp and his eyes widen, his cheeks flush and he lets go of your hands

“Oh”

You cringe and he chuckles, scooting closer to you and putting his arm over your shoulders. His scent is intoxicating as it washes over you, the close proximity not helping the tiny buzz you’re getting.

“So what you’re saying is…I have pretty teeth”

You laugh loudly, your head falling back against his arm and you smack your hand over your mouth. He leans into your neck laughing with you and giving you a sweet kiss on your cheek

“Maybe I’ll make you flustered now” He winks and you roll your eyes, the light blush on your cheeks giving you away.

“You made me flustered when I met you this afternoon. You were just too in your head to notice. I could barely talk to you”

“I wish you’d made me shy like you were. But instead, you just make me stupid”

You giggle and lean into him “Sorry about that”

“S’okay doll, we ended up here together anyway right?”

Eddie comes back over with a tray, he’s got two drinks and a basket of cheese curds

“Hope you’re not lactose intolerant” he jokes and hands Buck his drink

“No actually, couldn’t keep me away from cheese even if I was though. Especially fried cheese”

Buck takes one from the basket and holds it up to your lips

“Let’s soak up some of that alcohol” he watches the way your lips part and your tongue comes out to accept the bite…he can just imagine it wrapped around something else other than a delicious cheese curd. He grunts and turns his head away when he feels Eddie kick him under the table for staring. He knows Eddie knows exactly what he was thinking

The rest of the night carries on wonderfully, you get to know both men as they tell stories about each other, trying to one up the other and it’s funny as hell. You’re hanging off of Buck by the end of the night just trying to keep yourself from getting kicked from the bar for how loudly you’re laughing. Eddie is laid on the seat, snorting into his coat and Buck is holding onto you tightly as he makes no sounds, trying to start breathing again.

Eventually you all catch your breath, and just lay there for a bit, still giggling. It’s amazing you’re the only one that’s slightly tipsy, the other two are just idiots and that makes you giggle more. Especially Eddie who was the designated driver. Buck gets up from the booth, helping you up. He catches you as you stumble into his chest, his cheeks burn red when you look up at him, a playful little look in your eyes. He can practically see the little devil horns on your head

Actually. He can.

“Have you been wearing these all night??” He pats the little headband and Eddie falls back in his seat laughing again. You crash into Bucks's chest, your face smooshed against the soft material of his shirt as you laugh

“Buck that’s the 6th time you’ve asked that. They came with her drink, the specialty of the month. Devil MAY care?? Remember the one the bartender came up with”

Buck and Eddie drop you off at Athena’s house and Buck walks you up to the door with his arm around you. He takes the keys from your hand and unlocks it for you before dropping them back in your open palm. He takes a few steps back and puts his hands in his pockets, you turn to look up at him, your hands clasped behind your back

“I had so much fun tonight. Maybe we can do something else this week? If you’re not busy”

“With just me?” He teases “I’ll see if Eddie is free! Maybe we can go bowling or something”

“If he’s not that’s okay- I mean. I wouldn’t mind being alone with you,”

Oh Eddie is definitely not coming.

“Alright Doll, sounds fun to me. I’ll call you and we can plan something with or without him” he wiggles his eyebrows as you giggle, and the way you giggle makes him want to kiss you. But he knows for a fact Athena’s got cameras.

“Well, I uh- I should go…Eddie is probably gettin' tired. You know him, big ole sleepy guy”

You shake your head, smiling at him “Yeah okay… I’ll see you soon?”

“Yup…soon” He walks backward carefully, watching you stand there “Go on, get inside cutie”

Hopefully, the cameras didn’t have sound.

You blush and give him that little wave of yours before turning around and going in

“Night Buck..”

“Night Doll”

He’s about to turn around when the door opens and you come running back out again, you pull him down to your height and kiss him on the cheek.

He was stunned, to say the least. He melts for you, his body going all jellied and limp. He hurries down the walkway as soon as you’re in the house safe and sound. He’s definitely got a skip in his step as he dances his way back to the car.

The next morning he’s just as happy as he was when he went to bed, he’s humming as he pours everyone a cup of coffee. Setting them all out on the table with the breakfast Eddie is setting out too. He’s just putting the silverware down when Bobby comes up the stairs, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Did you call my niece “cutie”

Okay, so the cameras did have sound.

#words by rhys #Rhys writes #buck x reader #evan buckley x reader #evan buck buckely #evan buckley #911 x reader #911 fanfic #9 1 1 abc #911 fox #eddie diaz #bobby nash #chimney han #hen wilson #Orange Blossoms

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mins-fins · 1 year ago

Text

all flights are delayed !

"i like to call myself a pretty man connoisseur.."

synopsis: your sad to say it, but you don't have much going on in your life. you have a very time consuming major, just a few friends, barely any time to go out, and spend most of your free time either a: working, or b: sleeping. so for once, when you finally have the friday off, and your dragged off to go watch a football game between a rival school of yours, you really do wish you were anywhere else. somehow though, it turns out to be one of the best things to happen to you, because a charming oreo–haired musical theater major from your rival school just happens to saunter his way into your life, you didn't expect to fall in love in your junior year, but your also not complaining!

pairing: xiao dejun x male!reader

genre: college au, strangers to friends to lovers, musical theater major!xiaojun x health science major!reader, fluff, like the lightest of angst, lowkey fast burn 😖

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, kissing(?), gay people, a little miscommunication, reader having a crisis over oreo xiaojun, probably a lot of repetitive phrases, huang guanheng is EVERYWHERE

word count: 12.8k

notes: OKAAAAAAAY hello! now in the beginning i really did enjoy writing this but after like the fourth scene its all so disgusting and jumbled up but i am also very proud of myself because this is the longest ever fic i have ever written (it is all xiao dejuns fault), actually it is ALL of nct's fault because why do i have a bunch of 8k word fics of so many nct members..😢 anyway if this seems any rushed or makes absolutely no sense at times its because im tired and i worked extra today but it doesn't really matter because constructive criticism is good (i shouldn't even publish this tbh) but there is a first for everything! enjoy!

YOU'VE NEVER BEEN A FOOTBALL FAN. now you know that might be a little of a sour opinion, especially to the men in your family, but it's just never been a sport you enjoy. it is just a little fun to watch, especially when drunk, because the sight of men in tight ass clothes running around a field chasing a ball is possibly one of the funniest things you think your drunk mind has ever seen. which is why now— in the stands, listening to the loud shouts and screams from your schoolmates, and rival scholars, you feel as if your ears have just been popped.

after all the days of working, and doing nothing but schoolwork, you were glad to have the rest of the friday off. there was nothing else you wanted to do but put on an oversized sweater, make a bowl of ramen and rewatch gossip girl for the seventy fifth time already (yes, you keep count), but no— guanheng decided he was going to drag you out of the dorm to watch stupid football game, one about "school spirit" or whatever, you weren't paying attention to him when he decided to go on his ramble, and now he's abandoned you once again! probably off to go talk to one of his 1000 other friends or something.

you almost consider leaving, but then you witness the amount of people you'd have to maneuver through, the amount of excuse me's you'd have to utter, the amount of pushing you'd endure as you tried to make your way through the crowded stands, besides, you can't leave without guanheng, your pretty much the only person responsible for keeping him alive at this point.

so you somehow suck it up and manage to stick around. your ears are practically on fire right now, and you desperately want to take off your shoes because of how they are poking you at the moment. you almost feel like your being pressed together by all the people in the stands, as if walls are slowly pushing in and crushing every single bone in your body.

"that team is doing horribly.." you mutter to yourself in an attempt to calm your crazy mind.

"i know, we suck".

at first you think you've made up the voice, because in the past hour and a half all you've heard is shouting, cheering, and loud music blasting on your ears, no one has made any attempt to talk to you since guanheng up and left you alone in the stands, so the response almost seems like muddled up words created by your brain as a response—

but it's not.

someone actually did respond to you, and in a split second there is a completely new person standing beside you, also observing the game but not looking as pleased to be there. when you do glance to your left, you come across possibly the most beautiful boy— no, person, you come across the most beautiful person you think you've ever seen in your twenty years of living, for once it feels like everything stops.

you are not the kind of person that just.. does that. now you've met tons of pretty people, you've met so many people that you could definitely say are so beautiful they could be displayed in a museum as an art exhibit, but never in your twenty years of living have you ever seen yourself go silent at the sight of a beautiful person— your brain feels like it's malfunctioning, you're not exactly sure what to say, you open your mouth but no words come out, and you almost consider punching yourself because you probably look like a complete idiot right now.

"oh? you don't go here?"

that's what you decided to say? of all things you could've said, of course he doesn't go to your school, he just implied that the other team belonged to his school, why would that be the best thing to say out of everything else?

the stranger looks up, then he laughs, and your not sure how you keep your composure. "oh no, i go to vixsith" he replies, using his thumb to point backward, though he's not pointing at anything in specific, just pointing to point. you're not sure why you pick up on that, or why you're even watching where his hands are going anyway.

"your insulting your own team?" you inquire, and he laughs even harder at your question, covering his mouth with his hand. "this is about school spirit, have faith in them" you joke, and all he does is continue laughing, crossing his arms as he tries his best to calm himself down.

"i'm being honest, the only person on that team who knows how to play is mark, he deserves better" he remarks, eyes focused on the player he just named. he then seems to have a random realization and turns to you once again. "i'm dejun by the way" he holds out his hand for you to take, and you just blink at it like an idiot, before coming back to your senses and quickly shaking his head.

"y/n".

at the sound of your name, he seems to have yet another realization. he points at you and narrows his eyes. "we have a mutual friend don't we?"

at the question, you narrow your eyes, cogs turn in your brain as you think about who he could possibly be referring to, then it comes to you—

"guanheng".

the two of you say his name in unison, and the two of you both try to stifle your laughs as the realization dawns on you. "he knows everyone i swear" you mutter, and dejun snorts, looking away from you to laugh. "even from other schools.."

"oh we go way back" dejun responds, moving his hair out of his face. "middle school actually" he adds, and your eyes widen, as if your shocked, of course guanheng has friends from way back when, why are you surprised?

you don't feel as surprised as you do lucky..

"was he still as inhumanely flexible as he is now?"

dejun laughs again, he does that a lot. "yes, yes he was".

"he talks about you a lot.. you know" dejun comments out of the blue, tucking his hair behind his ear. "he basically lives with us, and if he's not sleeping over we always assume he's with you".

"oh so that's why he always just.. appears and disappears.."

"yeah that's kind of his thing" dejun scrunches his face, looking bored by the lack of action happening on the field. "i can never find him unless he directly comes to me first" he doesn't look at you as he says those words, but you're very much staring at him the whole time.

you almost feel like a creep in a way, you want to punch yourself in the face again for continuing to stare at him. you blink a couple times before turning your face away, trying to correctly articulate your thoughts.

"both teams suck".

you only say those words because you want him to continue talking, you want to hear him talk, it's nothing that crazy, having a conversation with him is just so intriguing to you for some reason..

"well yeah— but you guys get more training so you have an advantage" he comments, narrowing his eyes at the field, arms crossed over his chest. "the guys on our team have no idea what their doing".

"do you like football?" you ask, not sure why your so interested in his answer, you just are, you have no explanation for your sudden intrigue of this charming oreo–haired boy that goes to your rival school.

your much too distracted by how gorgeous he is to worry about giving yourself an explanation.

dejun laughs again, shaking his head. "not really, my dad does, so i just know things because of all his screaming and shouting" he replies, arms still crossed over his chest. "i'm not really a sports person, i do musical theater for pete's sake".

"oh so you sing?" you don't mean to ask another question, you're worried that you might be bothering dejun with your constant inquiries, but he actually seems glad, excited that someone is asking him about his major.

"well yeah" he responds, his smile growing. "all things theater, i write the songs, i act the parts, i play instruments, sometimes i even take offstage roles instead of my usual onstage ones".

he fiddles with his fingers, picking his nails. you assume, from his mannerisms, that he doesn't know what to say because most people don't really ask him about his major, or what he does, it's like he's elated that you even asked him.

"what about you?" dejun instead asks, veering away from the topic of his major and instead making yours the main topic of discussion. "what do you do?"

"health science" you say the words as if it pains you to, like it's the single most uninteresting thing you've said this whole interaction. "i know, it's boring".

dejun laughs again; "no no! i didn't say that!" he waves his hands in a disagreeing manner as he chuckles at your words. "i just don't meet a lot of people interested in pursuing science.."

"it's more of the health aspect than science actually" you mutter, and dejun just looks even more interested in what you have to say now. "but science is a big part of it so.."

"you must be very smart then" dejun remarks, smiling as the two of you make eye contact.

"i'm alright" you just say, finally pulling down your formerly rolled up sweater sleeves now that the air outside has begun cooling down. you only lightly shiver, and you glance back at dejun one more time..

"where do you think guanheng is?" he asks, clearing his throat as he scours the still full and lively bleachers, searching for your friend. "off doing whatever he does.."

you're currently very distracted, and you don't even realize what's going on when you snap out of whatever daze you were having and everyone is suddenly standing up and cheering like there's no tomorrow.

dejun looks over at you, and he can clearly see how confused you are because he laughs for one last time. "you guys won!" he somehow manages his voice over the roar of the crowd. "congrats!"

he's yelling, but he's not exactly loud, he still manages to sound so gentle whilst yelling at you.

"thanks!" you blurt out as a reply, and you feel like a complete idiot for that, but dejun smiles, so you don't feel all that embarrassed.

the game is over, and people are going to start to leave soon. dejun looks back, spotting a group he recognizes, then he looks over at you, a smile on his face. "i've gotta go now" he says, almost disappointed in a sense. "it was nice meeting you y/n!"

you nod, not knowing what to say. "yeah! you too!"

you too? you too?? is that what you say y/n!?

dejun gives one more beautiful smile before heading off, and you blink, having absolutely no idea what just transpired in those few minutes.

holy shit i forgot to ask—

but you couldn't— because he was gone, gone in such a flash you couldn't even spot his oreo hair in the crowd.

YOU FORGOT TO ASK FOR HIS NUMBER. YOU FEEL SO STUPID, your not even sure why you wanted to ask him that, but in the back of your mind that was the question you were preparing yourself to ask from the moment he told you his name, that he was friends with guanheng, the moment the two of you began laughing about your majors and stuff like that. the whole interaction with a pretty oreo–haired musical theater major at a football game is all that you were thinking about last night, as you tried to find pretty much anything else to think about as you struggled to sleep.

how did you forget to ask him for his number? you want to smash your face into your computer screen because of how stupid you are. you said "you too!" like a fucking idiot, but maybe you were just too distracted, he was smiling at you with that beautiful smile and staring at you with his absolutely gorgeous fucking eyes, how could you even think coherently whilst a beautiful man (from a whole other school but who cares?) was staring at you with his pretty brown eyes like you were the only person in the world?

okay your pushing it now..

but there is just something, something about him that drew you in, your not sure why you were so adamant on getting to know him, but he was just so— you can't explain it right now! you are currently very sleep deprived and also moody because of your disappearing roommate that always decides to appear at the worst times.

you don't remember the last time you ever got an actual eight hours of sleep, these days that seems like a dream more than a reality, but guangheng is just never tired. he's somehow always up, doing something, hanging out with people, he never sits down in once place and just stays still.

when he walks into the room, hands on his hips and gaze immediately focused on you, you barely bat an eye at him, just spare him a quick glance, noticing how pissed off he looks. you scour your mind for an explanation as to why he must be mad now, probably something someone said, or he got into yet another argument with one of his classmates, your not even sure anymore, you don't know where he is half the time.

"could you do me a favor?"

you almost laugh out loud, not at him, but at the idea that he wanted you to do him a favor. at this point, he probably owes you thousands of favors considering how many you do for him, but he seems upset, and you don't have any of that pettiness leftover to ignore him, so you move your eyes to look over at him.

"why should i?"

okay— you lied, your still just a little petty, but you totally have every right to be! guanheng deserves just some sass from you after disappearing each and every time he decides to take you out somewhere.

guanheng blinks, then he pulls out the signature guanheng frown, a sad stupid frown he always makes when he wants to persuade you into doing something. you're not sure how you've even ever fallen for that signature frown, maybe it's because he's just so great at looking sad, at looking upset, he somehow always manages to make you feel bad for him, and therefore, end up doing the favor for him.

"because i'm your best friend, your roommate, and you love me so much" guanheng smiles wide, like he just found out he won the lottery, and clasps his hands together as he rocks back and forth on his heels.

"i don't know.." you mumble, looking back at your computer screen. it's a saturday, you have no classes saturday, you can just sit down, relax, be the absolute lazy motherfucker you were put on this earth to be. "i don't feel like going out today".

guanheng huffs, crossing his arms. "one last favor! just one! then i'll get off your back!"

"your horrible at following your promises, heng" you comment absentmindedly, your tone is much meaner than you intended, and guanheng's gasp is enough to tell you that he indeed takes offense to those words. "what? i'm not lying".

"y/n!" oh great, he's whining now. "i will get you anything i can, anything! just this one favor! please?"

your about to say no again— but then it's like a lightbulb goes off in your head, and you get a spectacular idea. anything? he did say anything, and he can give you something you want.

the number of a pretty boy preferably!

you let out a sigh, and guanheng knows what that sigh means, it means you agree. "fine, i'll do you this favor, but this is the last one".

guanheng's smile brightens, and he cheers like a kid that just got the best christmas present one can receive. "thank you! thank you! thank you! i love you!" he kisses your cheek, and skips off to another room.

"get your jacket!" he shouts, already rooms away from you, so he has to shout.

"what?"

"get your jacket! were leaving!"

you furrow your eyebrows at his words, but you don't say anymore, because you did agree to do this favor for him after all.

so, without questioning it more, you get up and go grab your jacket.

"SO WHEN YOU SAID A FAVOR..?" you don't continue on with your sentence, pausing to let out a breath as you shove your hands into the pockets of your jackets. guanheng looks over at you, and he just chuckles at the unreadable expression on your face. when you agreed to do this favor for him, you didn't know it included leaving your dorm and having to be dragged out to yet another unfamiliar place. "did you forget to mention the fact that we'd have to leave the school?" you finally finish, eyes focused and narrowed on your friend, who again, smiles at you with that signature guanheng smile.

"it's a saturday, most of us don't have classes anyway, they won't question it".

"is that supposed to make me feel better?" you ask to yourself more than to guanheng, but he hears you anyway, and that results in a snicker from him. despite that, he doesn't respond to your silent question, making you frown just the slightest.

"stop pouting".

"i'm not pouting" your quick to rebut, rolling your eyes at his words. you almost bump into him when he suddenly stops, and your about to yell at him again for being stupid when he places a finger on your mouth.

he knocks on the door in front of him, not paying attention to the burning glare your currently sending him.

"i'll bite off your finger" you threaten, moving forward and pretending your about to do that. guanheng squeaks and quickly moves his fingers away from your lips, a flash of true fear in his eyes. all you do is give him a menacing and totally not threatening smile.

"psycho.." he whispers, he looks like he's about to say more, but the door opens, so he closes his mouth and turns around.

"come on!"

he grabs your wrist and drags you into the dorm, and you felt your heart rate increase. maybe he knew these people, but you sure didn't! what if they thought you were weird? you want to pull him back and tell him that he shouldn't just drag you into some strangers dorm, but he is much too distracted to even notice your uneasiness.

"i've returned!" guanheng yells, letting go of your hand to place his hands on his hips, as if he was proud of himself.

"can you slam the door on him!?"

"ten! come to me!"

before you can ask him what the hell is going on, he sprints down the hallway, you assume to go after this ten person, you just blink, shoving your hands into your pockets as you begin to rock back and forth on your heels.

"hello stranger!" an unfamiliar voice exclaims, you look up and come face to face with a pink–haired boy with a bright smile.

"hello" you reply politely. "i like your hair" you immediately remark, pointing at his hair like an idiot because you don't want to touch it and make him uncomfortable.

his face lights up, as if you were a millionaire that just gifted him a life changing amount of money. it was as if no one ever told him that his hair was pretty before, or that they liked it. he jumps up and squeals, excited. "thank you! ten said it was stupid!"

you furrow your eyebrows, then chuckle. "what? no it's very pretty, pink suits you!"

"hah! i told you guanheng! pink does suit me!" he yells down the hall, and you can hear the small shout of rebuttal that guanheng responds with from all the way down the hall. "thanks! only a few people actually noticed that i dyed my hair".

you laugh again, okay he is very funny, you like him!

"oh! i'm yangyang! the nicest person who lives here!" he introduces himself in the same fashion a reality tv star would, and quickly grabs your hand to shake it. you don't complain, just laugh again as he vigorously shakes your hand.

"y/n, it's nice to meet you".

he gasps, recognizing your name. "oh you're the famous y/n! guanheng always talks about you, for a long time i was convinced he was in love with you!"

"why are you tarnishing my brand!?" guanheng shouts again, sounding even more pissed off than he did before. "huh!? liu yangyang!?"

yangyang shakes his head, ignoring guanheng's loud shouts and flapping his hand, mocking him. you laugh as you watch him mock the other, who has absolutely no idea what he's doing right now.

"you have a project to do!" another unfamiliar voice shouts.

yangyang gasps again, suddenly looking stressed. "fuck yeah— um!" he turns around and reaches over to grab his laptop, then he turns back to you and gives you a smile.

"yeah, my apologies" you just wave it off, urging him to keep going. "um i'm doing a project where i have to interview people on their majors.. trust me i don't know either, but! i've interviewed like the whole school already, and i need one more person.."

"and that person is me?" you ask, but you already know the answer to that question, yangyang nods, much more quickly than he seemed to intend to.

"yes!" he exclaims, but then he clears his throat. "but only if you want to, i don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do—"

"no no no it's fine!" you cut into his sentence, shaking your head. yangyang, again, looks elated that you agreed.

okay so this was the favor guanheng wanted you to for him! (not for him necessarily— but his friend). he could've just told you about this straight up instead of being vague about it, it wasn't even that burdening of a favor, not like the other ones you've done for him.

"guanheng! why don't you bring him around more often? he's better than you are!" yangyang yells again, probably for the nth time that hour.

guanheng doesn't answer, but you knows he's pouting, you can just sense it at this point, you call it your "roommate instincts".

"oh hi y/n".

now that's a voice you recognize, and you almost don't believe your eyes when the one person that kept you up all night walks into the room and smiles as he sees your figure. "dejun, hi" you smile back at him, hoping you don't sound as awkward as you feel.

dejun looks so so pretty, as he always does. he fiddles with the necklace hanging around his neck, his eyes lingering on you for an unspecified amount of time.

"ten hit me with his shoe" guanheng suddenly storms into the room, arms crossed over his chest. "asshole.." he mutters under his breath, huffing like some sort of baby.

dejun then laughs, covering his mouth with his hand, and that causes you to laugh, turning your head to the side as to not make it obvious.

guanheng exchanges glances between the both of you, a prominent glare in his eyes, but then the look in his eyes changes, and he points at the two of you. "you two have met?" he asks.

dejun pauses, still humored by the previous words said by guanheng, and your brain almost malfunctions once again. "i— um" great, you just sound so natural and not awkward.

"we met at the game" dejun immediately says, saving you the awkwardness of having to collect your words in your brain. you thank whatever god or deity up there for dejun's quick response, and he just flashes you that familiar pretty smile. "yesterday, you know, while you were off doing who knows what.."

guanheng gasps, looking at dejun like he'd just cursed his entire bloodline. "you— your just such a bitch! you know!?"

"ow! don't punch me! i'm fragile!"

guanheng lands one more punch on his shoulder, and it gets one more squeak out of dejun, who jumps once again. "i don't care, your horrible".

yangyang blinks, probably already used to their little quarrels. he then turns to you, just shaking his head as they continue to whisper–argue. "so, what do you major in?"

it's almost like you totally forgot, his project, the thing that guanheng dragged you here to help him with. "health sciences, i take courses in everything related to healthcare and like— half actual science courses?"

"so your looking to work in healthcare?"

"yeah basically, i've already taken courses in emergency service's, becoming a paramedic is my top option!"

yangyang gasps at your words, he looks over at guanheng, then quickly back at you. "are you single?" he asks, again with the same quickness.

dejun snorts, hitting guanheng as begins laughing hard. guanheng scrunches his nose, staring at yangyang like he's crazy. "what kind of question is that!?"

"what? that is a totally valid question to ask!" he exclaims, crossing his arms. "it's for my project! clearly!" he lies.

"your— oh my god, unbelievable".

"so are you?" yangyang asks again, looking at you with suspenseful eyes. he is very much interested in your answer it seems.

your finally finished with your laughing fit, and nod, still very amused. "yes i am, i'm single".

"good, this is very important information".

yangyang gives you a giddy look, and dejun just continues to laugh.

you're not sure why your so focused on him though..

YOU AGAIN, HAVE NO LUCK SLEEPING that night, and after the first hour and a half of tossing and turning, you gave up on trying to chase slumber you knew you wouldn't be able to catch. you assumed that the longer you stared at your computer screen, the quicker you'd get tired and the quicker your eyes would become heavier, but no! it's now almost two in the morning and you still aren't sleepy in the tiniest bit, you didn't know insomnia got this bad, if you knew this prior to coming back to school this year, you would've bought more of those sleeping pills. you lean your chin onto your hand as your computer continues playing audio from a random episode of brooklyn nine–nine.

the millions of thoughts rampant in your mind were probably distracting you, rendering it impossible to sleep, and also rendering it impossible to focus, seeing as your just looking around your room, which is pretty much boring you considering all you've been doing for the past thirty minutes is looking around your own room.

you think your gonna bore yourself to death, you pretty much prepare to stay up for the next five hours until your alarm rings and startles you out of your daze (which has happened way too many times for your comfort), but then your phone rings.

it's almost two in the morning, who exactly is calling you at this time? who knows that you're awake at 1:56 in the morning and decided to call you? they probably knew you'd pick up..

and you know who it is— it's so obvious.

dejun.

you don't mean to pick up your ringing phone as fast as you do, you want to punch yourself in the face for how desperate you seem, and you almost don't answer the phone because you feel so embarrassed. "hello?"

"hi!" dejun sounds way too joyous for someone who is sleep deprived, and up at 1:57 am. "sorry? was that too loud?"

"no no your fine" you reply, even though the speaker is on, guanheng can quite literally sleep through anything, there was one time the fire alarm was going off for a good ten minutes and he didn't even budge. "guanheng is a pretty heavy sleeper".

"he's lucky, i can't sleep" the sound of shuffling on the other line resonates in your ears, and dejun huffs, sounding frustrated. "you were the only person i assumed would be awake".

you snicker. "why is that?" you inquire, he was right, of course, but you just wanted to hear his reasoning, and also wanted him to keep talking.

you really like dejun's voice for some reason, it just scratches the right part of your brain. in these past two days you realized that you like a lot of things about dejun, many more things than you thought you might.

"your major has the word 'science' in it so i just assumed the amount of sleep you get is slim to none".

now that gets another laugh out of you, you laugh much more than you intend to, but also— it's dejun, and you can't resist the loud laugh that escapes your lips.

oh your such a desperate little bitch—

"well you'd be correct" you respond, humming as you pick at your nails. "at this point sleeping is beginning to make me tired".

there's a long pause, and your worried you made everything more awkward, because you don't hear anything from the other line. for a moment, you're almost convinced dejun hung up on you, but before you can speak he beats you to it.

"i can keep you company until you get tired" he immediately suggests, and you almost choke on your spit when he says that. "i don't mind".

you go silent, feeling as if all logical thoughts in your mind have suddenly disappeared into the air. you might sound like a complete loser right now but that was just so sweet of him to suggest, you smile much too wide for your own comfort, but you don't even think about that, because your just so charmed by the words.

"you are.." you pause, clasping your hands together as you think about what words to say next. "yeah yeah, that's fine" you finally continue, your new words having no connection to the previous ones you previously said, you just hope dejun doesn't notice.

"good! it would've been awkward if you said no" dejun giggles, and you just can't get over how cute he sounds. "plus, i wouldn't want you to be tired in the morning, lord knows how much you do in a day.."

you feel an unfamiliar fluttering feeling in your stomach, because he is so considerate? he wants to help you, he's just being so nice to you at.. two! two in the morning! you bite down on your bottom lip, hoping it doesn't bleed from how hard your tooth drives into it.

"aww, you care about me that much?" you ask, just wanting to hear him talk again. you feel like a teenage girl giggling and kicking her feet over a high school crush, except you can't kick your feet and giggle because then dejun would know.

"okay, be quiet, don't make me hang up".

"okay okay don't do that!" you say, totally meaning to sound as desperate as possible this time. "if your not here i won't ever fall asleep".

you hear something similar to a squeal on the other line, as if dejun had heard your words and just freaked out.

the realization honestly boosted your ego.

"you— you suck!"

"you offered to help me jun, don't get like this now!"

you're not sure how long it goes on for, but you swear you two laugh all night while on the phone.

"SO WHOSE THE GUY?" the question is asked so abruptly that at first, you assume you heard your friend wrong. when you look up, he stares at you with that deadpanned gaze, and that's when you realize he's completely serious. you chuckle at the realization that your friend is sure that your in love with someone (well you are— your just surprised that he figured out so quickly). "what guy? there's a guy?" you tilt your head, acting as if you have no idea what he could possibly be talking about. you giggle as you watch him slowly get even more irritated by your answer.

"you always come in here looking a little less miserable each day" chenle observes, leaning forward as he narrows his eyes at you. "someone is making you excited to live life?"

"do i always come in here looking miserable?" you ask, completely diverting your attention from chenle's previously asked question, which makes him pout.

"yep!" renjun exclaims, sitting beside you, he crosses his legs in his chair and presses his lips into a thin line. "so! who is he?"

the two seem way too excited to know about your never talked about before crush on dejun. now— you didn't know it was so obvious that you were now smitten for this new guy, you're usually the friend that's known from straying the furthest away from love, you don't remember any people you've legitimately liked that weren't elementary school crushes..

so yeah, your friends totally had every right to be surprised, because your absolutely smitten for a man and they just want to know who this man that is making you so happy is!

you hate that you give in so easily. "he's one of guanheng's friends.." you mutter, picking at your nails, looking down to make sure you don't witness renjun and chenle's reactions with your own two eyes.

renjun gasps, sounding like those ladies at the hair salons that just heard the juiciest gossip. "ooh! who? does he go here? do we know him? is he pretty?"

chenle looks over at renjun like he's crazy, that familiar judging stare in his eyes as he watches renjun lean closer to you with a totally not creepy smile on his face. "don't you think your acting a little too interested in this?"

"i just want to know!" renjun shouts, playfully glaring at the younger. he then turns back to you, and you assume his cheeks must be hurting from how hard he seems to be smiling. "tell me please?"

"he's— he's just your run of the mill pretty guy who is nice, and smart, and absolutely adorable who tells horrible jokes that still end up being funny in some way and he has a pretty laugh and i just love his voice, and talking to him, and, i can't even explain it because it'll sound stupid!"

"you sound like a psycho" chenle immediately says, laughing at you like you just confessed to an atrocious crime against humanity. you sink into your chair, slumping towards the side.

"aww! the pessimistic y/n is in love!" renjun squeals, again, like those women at the hair salon who just heard the juiciest gossip. he grabs your arm and shakes you vigorously, causing you to get dizzy in the slightest bit. "i can't believe i've lived to see this day!" he shouts, continuing to shake you as you can't properly get out your cries for help.

"renjun you're gonna kill him" chenle pinches the older in the arm, making him yelp and jump, he giggles as he witnesses the glare the older male sends him, his crushing grip remains around your arm, but you don't even mention at this point, because at least he's not shaking you anymore.

"sorry" he remarks, definitely not sorry as he squeezes your arm once again, beginning to get overly excited. "it's just.. exciting you know?"

"it's exciting that i'm in love with someone?" you raise an eyebrow, and though you expect renjun to respond, chenle quickly does.

"yep! you'll finally be gone!"

his cheer results in a gasp of offense from you, and all chenle does is giggle in victory.

THE ONE THING YOU'VE LEARNED FROM THE now excessive amounts of times you've hung around guanheng's other friends is that they're loud, they are all really loud (even sicheng! who, for a good majority of the time, is always quietly staring at his friends with clear concern in his eyes), even if they don't mean to, they're somehow always either yelling, shouting, or making some sort of scene. they're all just naturally hilarious, like comedians that don't realize they're comedians because they're just being themselves. in the past few weeks, it's like you spend more time with these people that don't go to your school in comparison to people that actually go to your school and that you can see easily.

but if you're being honest, you don't really mind that your spending all your free time with them, because they are indeed very fun to be around (and you get to see dejun much more regularly, which is something you rather enjoy), and because life would be insanely boring if guanheng didn't decide to drag you out of the dorm every other day to go do stupid things with his friends that go to a whole other school.

"you are such a cheater! i won fair and square!"

"you did not! your the cheater! sicheng is my witness!"

sicheng, who was not listening to anything either ten or yangyang had to say, looked over at the younger with a look of concern washed over his features. he blinks as he's suddenly put on the spot, smiling nervously as the youngest stares intensely at him, waiting for his answer. "uh.. i— i don't know".

his delivery makes you burst out laughing, and you cover your mouth with your hand as to not make yourself look like an absolute fool. you don't even realize that you picked up on one of dejun's habits, you might be spending too much time around him..

actually, forget that! there is no such thing as spending too much time around dejun, and that might make you sound like a "simp" but you don't care.

you've fallen, and you've fallen hard.

"okay.." guanheng presses his lips into a thin line, ignoring the way ten and yangyang now begin discussing the logistics of cheating in card games, unfortunately dragging poor sicheng into their argument. he turns to dejun and scoots closer to him. "can you do me a favor?"

dejun groans, playfully rolling his eyes. you assume he's done as much favors for guanheng as you have, and you barely stifle the snicker that dares to escape your lips.

dejun hears the sound, and smacks your arm hard, making you jump. he only gives you a teasing smile before turning to guanheng, having to give him a response.

"at what lengths do i have to go for this favor?"

guanheng scoffs, crossing his arms. "it's nothing insane or anything, i just want you to get me something.."

"and you can't get it yourself because..?"

"i have no money on me" and there goes that signature guanheng frown, dejun opens his mouth to argue but then he shuts it so quickly it seems like he just got out in some sort of trance.

"fine fine" dejun rolls his eyes once again, surrendering much too quickly. "you owe me though—"

"take y/n with you".

there's a pause, both you and dejun go very silent for a moment. whilst dejun is just confused, you absolutely know what guanheng is doing, and you have to use every bit of patience in your body to restrain yourself instead of jumping over the table and tackling him right then and there.

dejun is clearly clueless, though, because he just raises an eyebrow. "why?" he inquires, somehow sounding so sweet even though his question is asked with so much confusion.

"y/n knows what i want".

what a smooth lie, dejun glances over at you, and you just shrug, having no idea what more to say. "he needs to take a walk anyway" guanheng lies again, wow, two in a row! he's on a roll.

"okay..?"

so that's how you find yourself on a walk with the person that you are very much in love with, a somehow comfortable silence spread between the two of you as dejun hums an unfamiliar tune to himself, hands in his pockets, eyes closed as he slowly sways back and forth.

he looks very peaceful, just doing what he does, being effortlessly pretty as he does so, and you observe his behavior, almost entranced by it in a sense.

you only stop when he speaks up—

"do you think they're still arguing?" he suddenly asks, and you snap out of whatever daze you were having, praying that he totally didn't notice you admiring him like a creep. "or are they just.. conversing calmly now?"

you don't want to seem like even much more of a weirdo, but you feel like he asked that question just as an excuse to talk to you, and maybe your thinking too much into it, but you've definitely done that before, so you know what it looks like.

"i hope they aren't still arguing" you answer, and dejun looks up at you, smiling. "that'd be a long ass time to argue".

"well they like arguing just to argue" dejun replies, fiddling with his necklace. "but they're harmless.. for the most part".

his delivery makes you laugh, and you look down at your shoes. "you're a very calm person, you know, the opposite of guanheng".

the sudden statement from dejun makes you look up at him once again, and this time, he's staring directly at you, as if he had been waiting to make eye contact with you the whole time. "calm?"

"well compared to my roommates you are" he giggles, and maybe he doesn't mean to, but he stares at so intensely that your legs feel shaky.

"who knows? maybe i'm a fraud" you tease, purposefully leaning closer to him so your words have an effect. dejun's eyes widen, and he lightly leans away from you, looking speechless. "you'd never know, though".

you don't know how you suddenly got so bold, or why you were so amused at the sight of dejun freaking out, you feel like some sort of genius for what you just did, and you snicker at yourself before leaning back.

dejun takes in a deep breath, looking like he's trying to fix himself. he clears his throat and stumbles through his next words. "i— uh.. you're such an idiot!" he decides to say, crossing his arms over his chest.

your not sure how the two of you became so casual in this amount of time, a few weeks ago, dejun wasn't such a regular figure in your life, and you were just any other college student doing their best to get by, not thinking about falling in love with a gorgeous oreo–haired man—

but you're also not complaining.

you aren't sure how you got so lucky, how it just happened that you could continue to spend time with the cute boy you met at a stupid football game simply because the two of you shared mutual friends, it's one of times guanheng's actually done you a favor, without even realizing it too!

"okay i'm sorry" you giggle, shoving your hands into your pockets, you once again begin taking from dejun's habits and sway back and forth. "seriously!"

"you're unbelievable" dejun exaggerates, rolling his eyes, but it wasn't serious, and you knew it wasn't serious. "but i meant what i said, your calm".

you raise an eyebrow at him, wanting to know more about the observations he has about you. "could you elaborate on that?" you don't mean to laugh, but you do, and it causes dejun to laugh too.

"you just.. seem content with what you have" he explains, but he doesn't explain it enough, so he continues. "like someone could get you a piece of paper as a birthday gift and you'd be pleased".

you laugh, hard, because he somehow managed to get you spot on. you almost feel like he is reading your mind, because he nailed you down with each word. "really? i guess i am like that".

"ah, so my prediction was right then!"

you laugh at how glad he is. "yeah, i am truly not that hard to please, gifts are gifts and if someone gets one for me, there's no use in being mad if the gift isn't something i like, at least they remembered to get me something!"

dejun stares at you for a specifically long time, looking you up and down. he stares at you with warm eyes, a gaze that seems so near and dear to his heart, a gaze so loving that it looked like he was about to get down on one knee and propose to you.

"i like any and all gifts" you continue.

"are there any specific kinds of gifts you like?"

dejun asks that question in a tone that makes it seem like he's totally not trying to sound suspicious, but he is totally asking you that question for a very specific reason.

guanheng must've told him something..

at least, that's what you assume, but dejun is patiently waiting for your answer, and you can't daydream the whole time about the true meaning of his words.

"i like books, plushies, music tapes, vinyl's, you know.. regular gifts that people like receiving".

dejun hums, as if he's noting down the information you're telling him in his mind, still, you don't say anything about his mannerisms, just keep it to yourself.

"are you noting down my reply?"

"i'm just keeping it in mind!" he says, smiling brightly at you. "just in case your special occasion comes up and i don't know what to get you".

oh! so guanheng definitely did tell him something..

"i mean— were friends! any gift from you will be a good gift".

at the word friends, dejun seems to pause, cogs in his brains turning as he tries to process your words. you don't understand why he would be trying to understand your words, because the two of you were clearly friends, did he think you two were something else?

you see the flash of disappointment on his face, but it quickly reverts back to a smile and he simply acts like nothing happened. "sorry, the word 'friends' just caught me off guard".

a lie..

how interesting.

"seriously though, i just want to get you a gift you'll appreciate forever".

but you're already enough for me— do you know how much you've changed my life?

your own thoughts manage to surprise you, because the words that you just told yourself in your own mind startle you enough that you make a judging face at yourself. luckily, dejun is turned away from you, so he doesn't notice.

"well that's thoughtful of you".

"i try my best.." he responds, finally looking back at you with that same loving stare, one that wants to lure you in and make you trip on your own feet.

for some reason, the two of you stop. there's an uncharacteristically long pause, like the world just decided to cease for a moment, and you both are completely stuck in place, just there, staring at each other.

dejun's eyes move, as if scanning your face like a camera, and they (of course) stop at your lips. he stares at them for what seems like forever, and it almost looks like he's restraining himself, but by the way he bites his bottom lip, it's clear—

he wants to kiss you.

and maybe there's a small voice at the back of his head that tells him to cut it out, because he almost immediately snaps out of whatever daze he was having, and clears his throat, his cheeks going a bright red.

"uh— sorry, yeah, um, we should get going" he says, shaking his head as he pulls his sleeves down.

"guanheng will yell at us if we're late".

okay, so he just decides to not talk about it? you want to ask him why he didn't just do it, because he clearly wanted to, but before you can even open your mouth, or get any words out, he grabs your hand and the two of you continue walking back to the group.

he doesn't say anything more, doesn't try to make anymore small talk, and while you do want to bring up what just happened there, you don't.

you just bask in the feeling of dejun's hands intertwined with your own.

it's a good feeling, you decide.

THAT MOMENT IS STUCK ON YOUR MIND for what seems like years. you can't get over it! how he was looking at you, how he clearly wanted to kiss you, but for some reason, decided to stop himself from doing so. you're not sure why you didn't just tell him that it was okay, that you would be completely fine with him kissing you, but you guess that you're just a complete idiot as well, because you just stayed silent throughout the whole thing, the two of you equally deciding in silence to not bring it up, just sitting next to each other in awkwardly for the rest of the night.

and yeah, it's become normal for dejun to constantly run through your mind these days, it's like he has his own subsection in your mind, dedicated to thoughts about him and him only, but it's like he's just become rampant in there ever since that.. thing he did (or should you say, didn't do, considering he decided to not kiss you when the opportunity was right there), maybe you should've pulled him in, maybe you should've (for once) been impulsive and done the first thing put to your mind.

and this crawls through your mind for days, then those days become a good week and a half. now— you and dejun aren't not talking or anything, it was just sort of difficult to look at him without thinking about that.

you're so into your thoughts these days, that you are much more spacey during your classes, at home, and somehow, guanheng picks up on your weird turn, which is crazy, because guanheng was the last person you expected to notice something like that, he usually never notices most things in front of him anyway.

"okay, what the fuck happened?" he decides to randomly drop it on you when he seems to have had enough, which is funny, because he's technically the person that started the whole thing.

you look up from your phone, blinking at him like he just said something out of this world. "hm?" he scoffs at your lack of a response, shoving your shoulder, which results in a glare from you.

"what happened?" he asks again, this time without the extra swear word, he makes himself comfortable on the other side of the couch. "you are acting weird" he points at you accusingly, like you'd just been accused of a crime and he was trying to figure out if you were truly suspicious.

"i don't know what your talking about.."

"stop stalling!" he complains, grabbing your arm and beginning to shake you back and forth. "tell me! you can't keep acting weird and just not tell me what's wrong".

now you want to tell him, but in your mind it sounds so stupid that you feel like guanheng would laugh at you the moment you uttered the first few words of your sentence. "you're going to laugh".

guanheng gasps, offended by your response, though it is true, he just wants to be dramatic. "i won't! i'm concerned! i'm being a good roommate and asking you what's wrong!"

so, you roll your eyes, taking a deep breath. "okay so hypothetically.." you begin, because you have no other idea how to start your sentence.

hypothetically just means = it was indeed not hypothetical!

"hypothetically, uh huh.." guanheng hums, understanding the true meaning your words have. "okay sorry, continue".

"let's just say that, hypothetically, i am totally in love with one of your best friends, and that friend totally wanted to kiss me but then chickened out last minute and like an idiot i didn't say anything and i have no idea how to go about it".

guanheng's eyes widen at your words, and his jaw almost drops. "hypothetically though" you add to the end of your sentence after a long pause.

"right right! hypothetically.." he nods, though he can't contain his look of excitement at the words. "and you didn't kiss him back!?"

you're almost knocked off the chair from how intense his yell is. you groan and cover your face with your hands, embarrassed and ashamed. "i didn't know how to bring it up and not be awkward!"

"just say 'hey dejun you could totally kiss me and it'd be fine because we are both mortifyingly in love with each other'!" guanheng shouts, louder than his previous words. he's always so straight up, and you almost wish you didn't tell him anything. "it's that easy!"

"it is not!" you shout in rebuttal, crossing your arms and frowning. your acting like guanheng at this point, but that's not what you're noticing at this very moment. "it's easy for you! you date people and you kiss people all the time! i don't do that!"

"excuses excuses!"

you're at a loss for words at his lackluster words, you once again, frown and turn away from him. "i'm sorry! i have never been hardcore in love with someone like this before! i don't know how to talk about it!"

guanheng looks like he's about to yell again, but he takes a deep breath and relaxes himself, leaning back in the couch. "okay, i'm sorry for yelling.."

"y/n, you really just need to tell him how you feel straight up, because if you keep stalling than none of you will end up confessing in the end and you'll both just be going through a loop of 'should we or should we not?'"

you blink, staring at guanheng for a good few minutes, honestly surprised. this is probably the best advice he's ever given you, usually, you’re the one that has to give him advice because he always ends up doing something stupid and has someone that wants to murder him because of that stupid thing he did.

"that was actually.. good advice" you reply, laughing at guanheng's eye roll. he just shoves you, making sure he does extra hard this time to get his point across.

"shut up! i always give good advice!"

"you usually don't give any advice at all.." you mutter, running a hand through your hair as you look away from your roommate, who just glares at you like you just committed a federal offense.

"say something again and i'm gatekeeping dejun from you!"

"your what!?"

at the sound of your shout, guanheng giggles as he scurries away, proud of himself for the words that escape his lips.

YOU'RE NOT SURE HOW YOU SOMEHOW LET guanheng drag you off to a party on a friday night where all you wanted to do is relax. parties have never truly been your thing, but that's because being surrounded by a bunch of drunk and high adults just isn't your idea of fun, you're also just not a big drinker, so the only reason you usually even end up at parties is to take guanheng home when he gets too drunk and can't fully articulate his thoughts. so, the fact that guanheng was somehow able to convince you to get out of the house and go to a party when you truly should've been at home, watching horrible sitcoms.

but no, you're here! and you can't leave without guanheng because if you did, he'd probably find a way to end up killing himself, or he'd say the wrong thing to the wrong person and would end up getting punched in the face.

so you find yourself in a familiar spot, your back against a wall as you stare at your phone, somehow able to ignore the hundreds of screaming drunk people that surround you, it's become a skill of yours, and you're not sure how exactly it developed, you've just become such a natural when it comes to ignoring others.

guanheng, of course, has already walked off to do his own thing, but not before reminding you of the advice he'd given you a few days prior, yelling at you to 'just tell the boy you like him!'

maybe his advice is burned into your brain, because now all you wish is that you were with dejun, talking about something stupid, or just talking.

and there must've been somebody listening in on your thoughts, because he suddenly walks around the corner, head whipping around like he's searching for someone.

your not trying to look at him, but he catches your gaze immediately, and he skips towards you like a kid in a candy store.

"hi" he greets, a little giggle to his words. his face is a shade of bright red as he giggles once again, though nothing's funny. "pretty".

he whispers the last word, with the intention of you not hearing it, but his mind must be too clouded for him to realize that he said it much louder than he thought he did, but you don't say anything, just hum.

"hello" you greet back, and he laughs once again, covering his hand with his mouth. "are you okay?"

a loud snicker leaves his lips, and he moves closer to you to link his arm with yours. he rests his head onto your arm, a content smile spreading across his face. "i'm drunk".

his honest answer makes you question his state for a moment, since when do drunk people admit that they're drunk? or maybe he's only just tipsy.. your not sure, but he's not acting like a totally sober person right now.

"are you sure?" you raise an eyebrow, dejun just responds with a small 'hmph', and he keeps your arm linked with his. "dejun".

"yes! i am!" he yells as rebuttal, shaking your arm a few times. "do you wanna smell my breath?"

"oh no no no" you reply, covering his mouth with your hand. he laughs at you, his cheeks as pink as yangyang's hair, he grabs your hands, and whilst yours are cold, his are burning hot. "okay you have energy".

"i'm sorry" he suddenly blurts, another snort escaping his lips as he leans his head against your chest. you give him a look, confused as to why he felt the need to apologize.

"for what?"

"for doing that thing" dejun responds, closing his eyes as he sways back and forth. "i probably made everything awkward, i didn't mean to".

that's what he thinks? he thinks that he made everything awkward? you feel your heart break at the realization, but all dejun does is laugh sadly.

"you didn't— you didn't make everything awkward, it's okay".

dejun laughs again, clearing his throat. "just tell the truth, y/n.."

you chuckle, not at dejun, just at his words. he wants you to tell the truth? fine.. you will!

"dejun" you begin, using your pointer finger to tilt his chin up so the two of you make eye contact, you watch as his eyes widen, but he doesn't move, just lets you do your thing. "you can kiss me, it's okay".

he blinks, as if trying to figure out if you were lying or not. he opens his mouth, but no words come out, so he closes it again. "it is?" he asks again, just wanting reassurance, you hear his voice crack, but he's getting impatient, he wants your answer.

"yeah it's fine".

that's all the conformation dejun seems to need, because he finally presses his lips to yours after what seems like years of waiting. your arms naturally rest on his waist, and there's just something, something about this that makes you smile.

there's an urgency in the way he kisses you, and his hand comes up to hold your face. he is just so desperate, and it would be a lie to say that you weren't just as desperate as he is. you'd been wanting this for so long, you don't even know how many times you thought about what it would be like to kiss dejun.

his fingers caress your cheek, and the contact feels like your skin was set ablaze. maybe this is what you needed, and you assume it's exactly what dejun needed to, because he pushes on your shoulder with a seemingly inhumane amount of force, which makes you gasp a little.

while your one arm is around his waist, the other one goes up to run your fingers through his hair, somehow causing the two of you to both smile, barely stifling your laughs.

after what seems like forever, dejun pulls away, and while you're standing there, breathless, he just smiles, relaxing as you play with his hair. "you like my hair?"

you aren't sure why out of all things, that's what he decides to ask, but you laugh, completely enamored by the boy in front of you. "yep, it's soft" you reply, biting your inner cheek. "the color suits you".

dejun tilts his head, looking up at you with his insanely pretty eyes. you just want to squish his cheeks, or wrap him in a blanket and hold him forever, you aren't sure why you just have this surge of loving emotions for absolutely no reason, maybe it's the way he's staring at you, or that he just left you breathless and did it so flawlessly.

he hums, not knowing how to respond to your compliment. he just suddenly gets shy, his ears turning red at your words.

"you're so stupid.."

that's probably his favorite phrase to say to you by now, but you don't mind, you just smile as he hides his face away from you.

"dejun" you call out despite him being right in front of you, and he looks up at you again, gaze warm as he gives you a small smile.

"yes?"

"i love you" you immediately spout, not even surprised by how high your voice has gotten. "like— in the i'm in love with you kinda way and not in a i just want you to kiss you but not call you my boyfriend kinda way".

dejun pauses, snickering at your words, he looks at you like you're the only person in the world.

what other way could there possibly be?

but you don't get any response, at least, not from him, because all he does is lean forward and press his lips to yours.

YOU'VE NEVER REALLY BEEN A FAN OF YOUR BIRTHDAY, and you aren't sure why. it used to be a fun thing up until you turned twelve and it suddenly felt like a switch had flipped, as if your birthday was making you miserable. now it's not like you always feel depressed on your birthday, it's just that sometimes you don't want to have a huge birthday celebration. most of the time— you only request for huge birthday bashes on specific days, like when you turned ten (you were very excited about becoming a double–figured age), or when you turned eighteen (you became an adult, not that exciting but it was definitely something, you could finally legally drink), but it's truly only specific days that you don't mind having large, people–filled birthday parties.

and not only were you not exactly anticipating your birthday, you already had something even bigger on your mind the whole time.

like dejun ghosting you! that's definitely one!

okay so you tell the guy you love him, you make out with him at a party (in the opposite order but oh well), he doesn't give you a response and then he decides to just ignore you?

maybe he just didn't know what to say, and that also lead to him just not picking up his phone for a good two weeks as he completely ignored your calls and texts and voicemails!

and with this being the only thing on your mind, your birthday seemed to be the least important event at the moment.

you didn't really want to think about it, and the campus was starting to make you feel sick, so this year you planned on visiting your parents after the day was over, considering your special day fell on a friday—

but guanheng, guanheng had other plans.

he practically begged you to let him throw the party for you, he wanted to do it so bad that he vowed to never ask you for a favor ever again (which is a lie! he never keeps his promises!), he was acting so desperate, it was like you'd just saved his life or something.

you're not sure what made guanheng so eager to throw a party for you, especially because you just didn't know what you would do with a bunch of people in your dorm.

but he insisted, he would throw you the best party in the world.

and after what seemed like forever, you two finally agreed on something—

you go visit your parents friday evening, and guanheng throws your party on saturday, easy!

"what do you mean strawberry isn't a good flavor!?"

you scoff at his question, nodding your head, as if confirming your words. "i don't like strawberry flavored things, you get me a strawberry cake and i'm making you sleep outside".

your threat results in a gasp from your roommate, who looks genuinely hurt by your words as he places a hand on his chest, horrified. "you are such a horrible roommate! threatening me when i'm throwing a party for you".

"it'll be a horrible party if you get me a horribly flavored cake".

you totally mean what you say as well— you truly dislike strawberry cake.

and when guanheng said party, you didn't exactly anticipate how many people he would decide to let into your dorm.

now you know a good chunk of these people, but most of these people probably decided to come just because they knew guanheng, all they did was utter some happy birthday's and then they ran off to do their own thing.

guanheng got most things right, he just invited a bunch of people that really didn't care for your birthday, just wanted to be around him.

so it's no surprise that you felt just a little disappointed about the people at your party that just didn't give two shits about your actual birthday.

and guanheng was off doing something else, though you could actually see him this time, he was telling people where to put the gifts they brought for you.

your beginning to feel suffocated in your own dorm, which is ironic to you, because this is quite literally the place you go to get away from a bunch of people, it's the only place of yours that isn't full of people.

so, you clear your throat, and push through people to get to the door, not wanting to stay inside with all these people, you'll probably end up throwing up everywhere if you stay inside even longer.

when you exit the dorm, you take a deep breath the moment you close the door, letting your back fall against it. you immediately jump as you see a person behind the door—

okay so dejun (who you confessed your love to by the way!), is pacing back and forth in front of your door, totally stressing. you blink, a look of confusion spreading across your face. "um.."

"are you okay?"

you aren't even sure why you opened your mouth, but if you didn't, this would just go on for a good twenty more minutes.

dejun jumps, clearing his throat as he smiles awkwardly. "you— scared the shit out of me".

he's acting so casually? after not talking to you for a good two weeks!?

"sorry—"

"i'm sorry!"

dejun immediately yells, covering his face with his hands. "i'm so sorry for not texting you! or calling you! or giving you a response! it was so stupid of me to not consider your feelings and instead of just telling you straight up how i felt i decided to ignore you but i was scared that i wouldn't be able to tell you without making it awkward and it—"

"dejun" you place your hands on his shoulders, turning him around to face you. "your rambling".

he sighs, eyes darting away from your face, he frowns. "but it's not okay, i didn't talk to you, i probably came off as such an asshole! you were probably so confused, and i just.. said nothing!"

you observe his features, and he looks even more anxious at your silence. his face goes red, and his leg begins bouncing up and down, whilst his hands look for something to hold.

"okay, calm down.." you mutter, reaching for his left hand and lacing it together with yours. "it's okay, there's no need to be worried".

"i'm sorry" he says again, finally looking up at you. "i get it if you don't forgive me—"

"dejun" you cut into his sentence, squeezing his left hand. "i forgive you.. i love you".

you repeat your confession once more, and dejun blinks, processing your words.

"i love you too".

and finally, after what seems like forever, after what was so long, he gave you a response.

before you could say anything more, dejun pulls you in for a hug, his arms circling around your waist. you're a bit taken aback by the sudden display of affection, but you also don't mind, because he squeezes you tighter.

"happy birthday" he mumbles, a small smile coming to his face as he feels your hand comb through his hair. "i'm sorry".

"stop apologizing" you say, lifting his chin up so you could look him in the eyes. "i forgive you, it's okay".

and it is, you're being completely honest, but dejun doesn't say more, immediately pulling you back into a warm hug

but suddenly, the door to your dorm swings open and guanheng peaks his head out, eyes widening as he witnesses the current thing. he has absolutely no context to anything which was happening at the moment, he just opened the door to witness a totally unaware dejun hugging you.

"uh.." he blinks, glancing between you two, but not asking anything, just clearing his throat. "it's time to cut the cake?" he laughs awkwardly, and you just smile, giving him a i'll be right there look.

"o...kay" he doesn't say anything more, just goes back inside and closes the door.

dejun giggles as guanheng closes the door, pulling away again to look up at you. "oh he is totally tired of us".

"we didn't do anything, though".

dejun snickers, lightly hitting your arm. "okay okay, you need to stop, it's your birthday, you have to go cut your cake".

"and.." he pauses, pulling a box out of nowhere and handing it over to you. "open your gifts".

you raise an eyebrow, confused. "where were you even hiding that?"

"that's irrelevant! it's your birthday, come on!"

and you let him drag you back into your dorm, smiling at him the whole time.

YOU ALMOST CONSIDER THE WAY YOU are acting to be absurd, and it's funny how much of another side dejun can just bring out of you. now you would never consider yourself to be a grumpy person, but people usually do describe you as having a 'natural frown'. you never really thought of yourself as being like that, but you guess that people don't see you look so happy much, because they continue to point out how it's like some glitch in the matrix to see you just a little less miserable as each day passes. chenle especially makes comments, talking about how you need to "put your smile away" because not seeing your resting face constantly freaks him out, renjun on the other hand, is elated, or maybe he's just glad he can finally be rid of you, you don't know.

but all that put aside, you are happy, and you have a cute oreo–haired man to thank for that.

and maybe this is all you really need, just dejun, the two of you don't even have to do anything, he can just lay his head down onto your shoulder and you'd be having a good time.

you like it when he sits down and paints your nails for you, or when he watches you bake over your shoulder, not knowing what to do but happy to watch you do your thing, or when he coerces you to win prizes from carnival games for him with his absolutely adorable eyes (he doesn't even need to try to coerce you, you'd do it either way).

"i'm pretty sure this is illegal".

"it's not!" you reply, though you mean to reassure dejun, your words seem to worry him more than anything. you take his hand, squeezing it. "dejun, i'm not getting you into any illegal activity".

"i can never tell with you" he retorts suspiciously, keeping your hand in his as you lead him up, he would have tripped if not for you holding your hand and guiding you up.

you clear your throat, patting the spot beside you as dejun immediately sits, so close to you that your legs are touching. "if i ever wanted to do something illegal, i'd know better than to bring you along".

he gasps, and you can't resist the urge to laugh at how offended he sounds. "what is that supposed to mean!?"

"you" your pointer finger touches his nose, and he doesn't even try to move. "are a snitch, you would be horrible to commit a crime with".

dejun slaps your hand away, and you laugh at the way he crosses his arms, a familiar pout gracing his absolutely beautiful features. "you— i.. take that back!"

"it's true! even yangyang would be a better option than you!"

dejun is even more offended by the words, and he slowly scoots away from you, arms still crossed as he pouts. you giggle as he remains scooted away from you, still angry about the words you said.

"uh— jun, i was just joking!"

"you suck".

dejun glares, but his glare is anything but serious, as you can see the way he slowly starts to break under your gaze, resisting the urge to burst into laughter. "i hate you".

"you love me".

he does, and he can't pretend he doesn't, because he almost immediately snickers, looking away from you as to not laugh more.

oh he is just so adorable.

you scoot closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist, making him yelp. "you're so cute" you mutter into his shoulder, and at this point, dejun doesn't even try to pretend anymore.

"you're so corny" he says, patting your arms that currently circle around his waist. you lean your head down onto his shoulder, making yourself comfortable, and he just lets you, because at this point he can't really push you off him.

"don't fall asleep, i'm not going to carry you back to your place".

"you would be too weak to carry me anyway— ow!"

you yell loudly as dejun nudges you in the stomach with his elbow, and while he looks absolutely proud of himself, you just glare, absolutely done with him.

but you don't say anything, just lets your fingers run through his hair, probably your favorite thing to do with him. he just cups your face, and he just smiles at your face, giggling. "your just as cute as when we first met".

the statement makes you snicker, because you did not expect for him to say that out of all things he could've said. you get why he says it though, because you are at the place where it all began, the bleachers, the same bleachers where you two were standing when you shared your first interaction.

you tilt your head, wanting to tease him more. "so there were moments where i wasn't cute, then?"

dejun scoffs, turning away from you. he lightly pinches your arm, and you yelp once again, inching away from him. "why do you enjoy hurting me?"

he smiles innocently. "i don't, i have absolutely no idea what you're talking about!"

your face drops, and all dejun does is laugh, squeezing your cheeks. "don't be mad, babe, you know i love you".

and you do, you do know, he never fails to remind you of how much he does.

"i love you too.."

with your eye rolls, and tiny mutters, dejun knows, he knows that you're telling the truth.

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