#i would not have gotten half as far in life without them
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valtsv · 2 years ago
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"online friendships aren't real friendships" shut the fuck up i literally have custom heart emojis for all my friends on discord
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shutup-andletme-go · 5 months ago
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I cannot rely on one person for me to be happy my happiness isn't allowed to be only triggered by one person I can be happy at every little thing it doesn't matter about this one person
#im in too far fucking deep again#and when he leaves again its gonna hurt just as much. but more.#finch posts#he makes me happy beyond belief and i goddamn love having a friend who knows me inside out and has done for so long#but. your love is my drug by kesha comes to mind. its fucking intoxicating talking to him#and last time he left (we were 12 and his parents moved their family) it made me kinda depressed and i was so fucking needy to talk to him#and now we're three and a half months into rekindling the friendship and i feel the same like i get really sad already >#>if i just dont talk to him for a couple of days without like a trip or friends or smthn else to entertain me#songs are starting to remind me of him#fuck fuck fuck#1am in the morning makes me too honrst#i think im still a bit (a lot) in love with them#ohmygod i dont even think it i know it#i should go to sleep earlier#it would stop me having so many thoughts#i havent seen him in multiple years but i can still imagine kissing him#oh fucking hell fuck my actual whole fucking life#and his closest friend where he lives now well they were starting to be a bit of a thing and surely its not fucking normal>#>to daydream about kissing a girl who ive literally never seen a photo of#holy fucking hell i am such a hopeless poly bisexual#WHY DONT WE REWRITE THE STARSSSS#oh this is circling round to my suspicions i might be kinda like demi romantic??#i should buy myself flowers . wait. no. i grow flowers 🫠#well i could still buy myself flowers . and i should#i need to go to the beach#cant wait to get a proper drivers license#if youve made it this far down my crisis hi youve gotten to the stage where u can tell what songs im listening to!
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sarahroutldge · 10 days ago
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inked.
a/n: hey y'all! this is my first fic on this account. just a fun little jj one shot - lmk what you think!! (gif not mine - credits to the creator)
pairing: jj maybank x reader
summary: you and jj have been dating secretly for half a year, and a small question about a mysterious new tattoo leads to his friends finding out about the two of you.
word count: 2.8k
warnings: fluff/humor, marijuana use, implied sexual content, I think that's it
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JJ’s not the greatest at dates, and he’s aware of that. But when it comes to you, he’s decided to step up his game, and that’s why he took the initiative to take you to Charleston for your birthday. While he currently can’t afford to spring for an elaborate dinner at a pricey restaurant, he’s trying to make tonight something special. Usually, you’re the one who has to pick up the slack when it comes to romance—though you’re not great at it either—but he figured that since it’s your birthday, all the planning should be his responsibility.
And so far it’s been great.
Walking hand-in-hand down the cobblestone streets of Charleston, you can feel how much freer JJ is when he can take you out somewhere people won’t recognize you. It’s been hard keeping such a big part of his life a secret from his friends for so long, but he doesn’t want to push it too far. You’re what he calls ‘kook-like,’ since you’re from Figure Eight but you went to the local public school instead. And while you never really interacted back in high school, JJ doesn’t want to have to explain to his friends everything about your relationship. It’s private, and though he knows he’ll confide in the Pogues at some point, he’s just not there yet. And thankfully, it doesn’t seem to bother you.
It’s been silent for a while, but not uncomfortable. You just enjoyed a delicious meal that JJ had to fight with you to pay the bill over, and you feel calm. Peaceful. Outside of the Outer Banks, there are no kooks and no pogues, just the two of you. 
Choosing to break the silence, you voice your inner thoughts. “It’s nice to not have to worry about running into people we know, you know?”
JJ nods. “Yeah, it’s nice to know that I can kiss you without being afraid of being punched by Topper,” he teases.
You chuckle at his comment before pulling him to a stop. “You said you’d never bring it up!”
“Hey, he’s your ex-boyfriend,” JJ retorts, pointing at your chest.
“Hardly. We dated for two weeks when I was fourteen. And it’s still my greatest shame.”
“I thought I was your greatest shame.”
You roll your eyes, knowing he’s joking. “Never.” As he leans in to kiss you, you can swear that you’ve never felt lighter. You’re a bit tipsy from the drinks at dinner and JJ has a sparkle in his eyes that’ll never stop making you smile. 
His lips press to yours, and you swear you know what the romantic comedies mean when they talk about fireworks. It’s nothing too heated—you’re standing on a sidewalk and you’re not that crazy—but it’s special and passionate. Your lips are a perfect fit for one another, and if you don’t pull away soon you know you’ll get swept up in it.
Knowing JJ has other plans for the two of you, you break away from the kiss and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Alright, so what’s next on the agenda, Jayj?”
And that’s when you spot it—the signature twinkle in his eye that only shines when he has something a little bit crazy planned.
“Oh no…” you protest in preparation for whatever’s about to come out of his mouth.
“Okay, it’s just a crazy idea I had and it’s totally up to you. We don’t have to do it, but I think it would be fun.”
“What?” you ask. He unwraps your hands from his shoulders before grasping one of them in his own again, and starts to guide you down the street. “JJ, where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.” He winks, and at that point you decide to just let him lead you wherever. You know he’d never put you in danger, and he’s safely gotten you out of your comfort zone many times before, so you’re sure that it can’t be too bad. Right?
As the two of you walk down the street hand-in-hand, your mind wanders. You’ve accepted your fate, but where could JJ possibly be taking you? And before your mind settles on a single answer, he pulls you to a stop in front of a little brick-walled building. ‘Inks Tattoo Parlor,’ the sign reads.
“Okay, I know it might be a crazy JJ idea,” he starts.
“I’m glad you’re self-aware,” you retort.
He rolls his eyes. “Just hear me out. I know we haven’t been dating for long and maybe I had too many drinks at dinner but I know you’re it for me. We’re young and I know we haven’t talked about marriage and I know we’re nowhere near there yet—”
“JJ, just breathe,” you say to comfort him, squeezing his hand in reassurance.
“Well, basically, I love you. Like a lot. Like more than I ever thought I could, and I think I want a tattoo of your initials on my ass.”
And then you give him the weirdest expression he’s ever seen. He can’t tell if he’s scared you off or turned you on or maybe both. But slowly, a smile makes its way onto your face.
“Okay, well, number one: this is definitely a crazy JJ idea,” you start. “But crazy JJ ideas are part of why I fell in love with you, and it’s your ass—you can do whatever you want with it. Frankly, I’m honored.”
He smashes his lips to yours and you kiss him back, chuckling against his lips. “Oh, babe, by the way, this ass belongs to you, too.” You playfully swat his chest, and his smile only grows.
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You don’t know if the drinks from dinner are finally getting to you or you’re just on a high from spending so much quality time with your boyfriend, but as you and JJ wait for him to get tattooed, your mind starts to wonder if maybe you should get one as well. 
After the tattoo artist finishes up with his previous client, you get up from where you were waiting next to JJ and look at the intricate designs on the wall. “Hey, Jayj?”
“What’s up?” he asks, looking up from his phone.
“What do you think of this font?”
JJ squints before deciding he might as well come over to get a better look. Standing behind you, he rests his head on your shoulder and examines what you’ve been pointing to. 
“It’s alright, but not my thing,” he responds, as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Plus I think I’m just gonna stick with something simple. No twirly shit.”
You chuckle at his description of the font. “I didn’t mean for your tattoo, Jayj. I meant for me.” And that catches him off guard. 
Unraveling his arms from around your waist, he moves to stand in front of you. “You’re getting a tattoo?” he questions. 
A bit annoyed at his disbelief, you roll your eyes. “Why is that such a big deal?” 
Racking his head for an answer that won’t make him sound like a dick, the best he comes out with is “well, it’s just not very… you.” 
“Maybe that’s the point.” 
JJ lifts his hands in defeat. “Hey, it’s your body. Your body, your choice, and all that, or whatever.” You chuckle at his wording. “What would you even get?” 
“JJ, duh.”
His eyes widen. “You’re not serious.”
“Why not?”
He stares at you for a minute, looking deep into your eyes, trying to see if you’re joking with him, but he can’t seem to find any nervousness. “Well damn. Where are you gonna get it? And don’t say your ass because that would just be copying me.”
You roll your eyes. “No, I was thinking on my hip, right above my bikini line, you know? And it wouldn't be big or anything, just two J’s. No extra swirls or details or whatever.”
JJ puts his hand to his chin as if he needs to think it over, before stepping as close to you as possible and whispering in your ear, “that’s kinda hot, honestly.” He punctuates his comment with a kiss on the inside of your neck, and before you can do anything more you hear a clearing of breath from the tattoo artist.
“You’re up next.” 
The two of you break apart from one another as if you’re fifteen and you’ve just been caught making out by the lockers during class time. JJ winks at you before laying down on the cot. “Alright, man, tat my ass up.” 
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Two weeks later…
“Kie!”
“Wake up!”
“Get up, Kie!”
“You’ve gotta see this!”
“Alright, I’m up!” Kiara relents, rolling her eyes as she wakes up from a heavenly nap in the hammock on the employees-only floor of the tackle and bait shop. “This better be an emergency.”
Sarah, John B., Pope, and Cleo squint a bit at her casual threat. “Okay, so it’s not exactly an emergency,” John B. clarifies. But before Kiara can object again, he explains, “JJ has an ass tat!”
“What?” Kiara asks, still a bit dizzy from her nap.
“JJ has a tattoo on his ass,” Pope clarifies proudly, and Cleo rolls her eyes in response.
“I know what an ass tat is, thank you very much,” Kiara bites back. “And why do we care that JJ has one? And also, how do you know that he has one?”
“Okay, well, you know how sometimes JJ doesn’t wear underwear?” John B. asks.
“Gross, but yes, I think we’re all unfortunately aware after the regrettable cliff diving incident last July.” Everyone shudders in horror at the memory. 
“We care because it’s not something JJ-y,” Sarah explains. “He has a tattoo of someone’s initials!”
“And it’s not like JJ to, you know, ink anything remotely sentimental on himself. To be honest, I was surprised he didn’t get a joint tattooed on his ass first,” Pope elaborates.
“Well, what are the initials?”
“Y/I. And I can’t think of anyone with those initials.” John B. answers.
Now invested in the mystery of JJ’s ass tat, Kiara concentrates, trying to think of who she might know with those initials. Coming up with nothing, she asks, “Are we sure it’s not just something stupid?”
“Come on, Kie. It’s JJ. If there’s anything we’re sure about, it’s that there was a high level of stupidity involved in this decision,” Pope answers.
“Fair point,” Kiara concedes. “How did you even see the tattoo?”
“John B. walked in on him sleeping butt naked,” Sarah confesses. He shoots her a look, and she smirks. “I’m just glad you didn’t find it cuter than mine.” John B. rolls his eyes in response, and Sarah chuckles.
“Never,” he says, before kissing her on the lips.
“Gross!” Pope interjects.
Elsewhere on the island, you and JJ are enjoying a day at your favorite secluded part of the beach. The waves never get especially big here so you’re not crowded by surfers, but it’s a nice area to get away from it all and simply relax with one another. 
You’re lounging on a towel, letting your back tan, as you engross yourself in your current book. Right next to you, JJ sits shirtless on his towel as he does whatever on his phone. It’s been relatively quiet for a while until you sense your boyfriend starting to stir.
You glance over at JJ only to see him typing incessantly on his phone. 
“Babe?” 
“Yo,” he says in acknowledgment, but without looking up from his screen.
You roll your eyes and move over onto his towel, making yourself comfortable behind his bare, sun-tanned back. Looking over his shoulder, you try to make out what he could possibly be doing.
Wrapping your hands around his stomach, you feel his abs tense under your fingers. “What’s going on?”
“I think our cover might be blown,” he answers, placing his hand above his phone so you can see the messages in the blaring sun. 
John B.: Please tell me she’s not a kook.
Sarah: Hey 🙁
Cleo: We want to meet her!
Pope: How did you convince her to go out with you? Is she being held against her will?
Kie: I stfg JJ if you don’t just tell us her name.
Sarah: We’re at the usual surf spot on the beach, bring her over!
Pope: You have to come now because I need proof that a real human woman agreed to go out with you. Also if she doesn’t exist then JB owes me fifty bucks.
“Your friends are funny,” you say into his ear, and he smiles wide.
“So, what do you say? Do you want to meet them? I know we’ve kept this thing a secret but I guess it’s pointless now.” 
“I’d love to meet them,” you respond, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and packing your book, towel, and your cover-up into your bag. 
Once you’re all packed, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest. “Thanks for doing this, babe.” He lightly presses his lips to yours.
“Don’t thank me, I can’t wait to meet your friends and hear all the embarrassing stories you haven’t told me. And of course I’ll have to share some of my own in return.” You return his kiss, and for a few seconds the two of you just stand there, kissing under the hot sun. His tongue makes its way into your mouth, and you tug on his messy blonde strands in response. He moans into the kiss, but before it can get too heated, you pull away. “As much as I love this, if we don’t stop, I don’t think we’ll make it in time to meet your friends.”
“Who cares about them?” he jokes, before pressing his lips to you again. And then, in signature JJ fashion, he grabs your bag in one hand and tosses you over his shoulder.
You shriek in response. “JJ put me down!”
“You’re the one who wanted to hurry. I’m just making sure you don’t get distracted.” As he walks you to his truck, you giggle at being held upside down, swatting his butt playfully. 
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Meeting his friends goes great, and you easily fall into a rhythm with Sarah, Kiara, and Cleo. John B.’s extra welcoming since your existence means that Pope now owes him fifty bucks, and by late afternoon you’re all relaxing around a bonfire. Gathered in a circle around the flames, you swap embarrassing JJ stories and enjoy just getting to know the Pogues. You pass around a joint, and a comfortable silence grows among the group, interspersed with a few chill conversations. Lounging in between JJ’s legs, his hands begin to wander before settling comfortably on your hips. 
He plays with the hem of your cover-up, pulling it up and down ever so slightly. Sarah sits next to you, tugged under John B.’s arm. She glances around the group before she notices a bit of ink along your bikini line. “Ooh, that’s such a cute spot for a tattoo, what is it?” she asks.
You feel your face warm and JJ shoves his head into your back, chuckling at the situation.
The rest of the group looks confused at JJ’s reaction, and now everyone’s attention is on the both of you. Realizing there’s no way out of this, you meet JJ’s fingers at your hip and ever-so-slightly move the string on your bikini bottom so that Sarah can make out what it says.
She squints. “Oh my god! You have JJ tattooed on you!” 
Everybody else’s eyes go wide and they all look at you in shock. 
“Really?” Pope asks, questioning your judgment, and Cleo slaps him in response. 
“Leave her alone, it’s cute.” 
You smile at Cleo in thanks, and JJ looks at Pope. “Pope, it’s like the hottest thing ever, I swear. The sex was great already, but now–” 
You cover JJ’s mouth with your hand in embarrassment, as John B. smirks in amusement. It’s silent for a second before JJ decides to lick your hand and you immediately pull away. “Ew!” you shout, and your boyfriend howls in amusement.
Standing up from between JJ’s legs, you wipe your wet hand on your cover-up, before tugging it off. “Anyways, I’m going to go for a final swim before the sun goes down completely. Anyone want to join?” 
“I just want to finish my beer, but I’ll join you in a minute,” Sarah answers, and you smile. Cleo and Kiara nod in agreement, and you make your way into the water. But before you can reach the ocean, JJ runs up to you and lifts you off the ground. You yelp at his antics, and again he lays you over his shoulder. He turns around to wave at the group as they laugh at the two of you.
The rest of the Pogues look on as JJ drops you into the water. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but they might be perfect for each other,” Pope confesses.
Everyone nods in agreement. “They’re adorable,” Sarah adds. “Absolutely adorable.” 
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so... please let me know what you think! I don't currently have a taglist, but if you'd like to be tagged in my next jj fic, please send me an ask :)))
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lavandulawrites · 2 months ago
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Hii! I saw ur post about short requests and am here to submit mine!
May I pretty please get a yan!Kinich, Yan!Cyno and Yan!Diluc with a darling who may or may not try to destroy anything they find around the house to annoy the yandere in hopes of letting darling leave(in darling's mind, if she shows the yan! that she is more trouble then worth it, maybe he will let her go)
Ty 4 reading my request!
Yandere Kinich, Cyno, And Diluc With a Darling Who Destroys Their Belongings
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Yandere Kinich, yandere Cyno, yandere Diluc x reader (all separate)
(Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).
Masterlist
Warnings: imprisonment, possessiveness, obsession
Word count: 439
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Kinich
You picked up yet another bowl and threw it as hard as you could against the wall. The green painted ceramics shattered in a pile on the floor. You scoffed as you picked up another and repeated the process. For each broken dish, your satisfaction grew.
You might not be able to escape Kinich, but you sure as hell would make his life as miserable as possible. As you held the expensive bowl over your head ready to throw it with all your might, the door flung open.
In stepped Kinich without his annoying companion. His hazel eyes narrowed as he scanned over the damage you had done to his dishes. “What the fuck have you done?” he hissed. You blinked as it was weird seeing him mad.
He shook his head as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “You could have gotten hurt. It seems that I must remove some of your privileges” he mumbled into your hair.
Cyno
The General Mahamatra had a large storage space within his home filled to the brim with weapons. It was his priced collection.
The room was without any windows and lighting was poor. You let your hands run against the spears that were against the far wall. You curled your hand against one of them and lifted it out from its holder.
You bent it over your thigh and with all your might you managed to snap it in half. You tossed it aside as you picked up the next spear and snapped that one as well.
“If you think this is going to make me let you go, you are wrong [Name]” his voice broke you out from your trance.
Diluc
Diluc were really starting to get in your nerves with his constant worry over your being. You hated how he treated you like a delicate flower, afraid you would fall apart should he handle you roughly.
So with anger boiling inside you, you decided to venture down into the wine cellar. Rows upon rows of various wines littered the space. They were all neatly sorted from date to date, and flavour to flavour.
You picked a bottle up and smashed it onto the cold ground. Watching the red liquid pour it from the broken bottle filled you with great glee so you repeated the process over and over. It wasn’t before you heard the heavy door open that you stilled in your movements.
“What have we here?” Diluc’s deep voice filled the space. He clicked his tongue. “You should’ve said you wanted more enrichment, my dear” he smiled gently. “Come let’s go upstairs, it’s getting late.”
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planetpedri · 6 days ago
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All in good time, — Franco Colapinto.
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Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader
Summary: When a college student meets her polar opposite in Franco Colapinto, she instantly disliked him. But, Franco was enamored with her and he would get her to like him, all in good time.
Word count: 1.65k+
Disclaimer/s: this is a hockey!au
A/N: this is for @purinfelix and jet only! though i love each and every one of you who choses to read it.. this was. this was ass girl shit i’m sorry i didn’t know where i was going toward the end… i may do another hockey player!franco fic tho but its going to be far more centered around the actual hockey
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Franco Colapinto was a force to be reckoned with. Somehow, you’d gotten tangled into his life. When your dorm was being renovated and you needed a place to stay, your roommate suggested her friend’s house—that friend being Franco. A notorious hockey player for the Golden Knights.
He was, in simple terms, agitating. Your two and a half weeks staying in his basement was something close to hell on earth. He held parties, big ones! Ones that interrupted your studying, which he’d half ass apologize for the next morning while nursing a raging hangover, right before asking you to make your signature hangover recipe while he showered.
That was your payment for staying there. You nursed his hangovers and helped him come up with various excuses as to why he was late to practice, even going as far as to go out of your way to tell his coach you’d gotten terribly sick and he had to bring you to the hospital.
Two pea’s in a lying pod. That’s what you were.
In the first week, he’d convinced you to go to the rink to help him practice. You—only ever using figure skates—had a difficult time keeping up with him. You nearly broke a tailbone trying to catch up with him.
Franco held a lopsided grin when he stopped, ice shavings flying as he turned to face you. Though, you saw the concern flash across his face as he skated back in your direction, leaning down to help you up.
“I need an ice pack—“ Your lips formed a thin line, “actually, I need wine and an excuse to get out of this hell.”
The curly haired man laughed, pulling your hand over his shoulder as his free arm looped around your waist. Holding you up, he assisted you back to the bench, setting you down carefully.
Once you shifted to get comfortable, wincing in pain, you untie the laces on your skates. “How do you do this for a living? I’m fucking miserable and we’ve done this once.”
Franco shrugs, leaning his head against the tempered glass that separated the rink from the benches. “Maybe I will just have to put you to work.” His lips threaten a smirk, “if it helps, I do prefer practicing with you than my teammates.”
That wasn’t even particularly a lie. He tried to find ways to get to know you, but you were a tough nut to crack. He tried so hard to find ways to get in your good graces, and forcing you to hang out with him was the only way he could get you to spend quality time with him.
His flirting was what annoyed you the most. You couldn’t stand it, only because it made a weird feeling erupt in your stomach. “First of all, don’t let them hear that. Second of all, I will never do this again. Ever.”
Franco was a convincer. He was good at getting people to do things, and you were unfortunately, not exempt from that. Even when you were back in your dorms, he’d convinced you to join him at the rinks.
You rarely ever practiced with him, simply opting to watch from the stands. You hated to admit it, but you’d grown to enjoy the time spent with him. When he took breaks, he’d explain the rules to you, different tactics they used, various things.
When you’d get so engrossed in conversation, he’d slip in a question about you, that you’d answer without thinking. He was good at getting to know people, but you were a difficult case. He’d found a way eventually, only getting you to talk about yourself when you were so distracted you couldn’t think long enough to stop it.
“Hockey pucks are actually frozen before games to make them move faster and glide smoothly on the ice, so they don’t bounce a lot.” Franco was rambling about different facts, waiting for the perfect opportunity to slip in a question he’d been waiting to ask for weeks.
“Seriously? So they don’t just stay rubbery and lukewarm?” The last part was only slightly sarcastic, but the fact had actually surprised you.
“So.. are you seeing anyone?”
“No.” You pause, wait—what? You don’t get an opportunity to ask any further questions because he was already onto the next fact. “Franco!” You snap, interjecting his next rant.
Francos eyebrows raise slightly, “yeah?”
You narrow your eyes, licking your lips. “You just asked if I was seeing someone. Then—you know what. That doesn’t matter, what does though, is that you just slipped in a question that was not like the others you’ve slipped in.” His face contorts and you laugh, “i’m going to law school, I notice tactics like that.”
The hockey players mouth quirks, he wasn’t even slightly ashamed. “Oh, I love how smart you are.” He hums, “I was just curious. If you were, thank the lord you aren’t, but, he wouldn’t like you hanging out with me.”
“Thank the lord? Seriously?” Your eyes roll dramatically. The wooden bench beneath you feels stiff and uncomfortable the more he watched you with his stupidly smug face.
Franco nods, “hey—“ He begins untying his laces, “you should come to my game tomorrow. You haven’t come in a while.”
The topic switch was noticeable, but you ignore it. “I have a lecture late tomorrow. I’ll probably be tired.” But when Franco’s face changes into that familiar doe-eyed expression, you cave. “Fine! I’ll come! Quit looking at me like that.”
“I’m not looking at you like anything.”
“Yes you are”
“No i’m not.”
“Are too!”
“Let me take you to dinner.”
“Are—what?” Your brain stops working, words failing your tongue. Excuse you? “Wait a fucking minute—“
Franco watches you carefully. “Is that a no?”
“No! I mean—“ You were still a stumbling mess. Your mouth opening and clamping shut. “It’s a-well, I mean, It’s a yes! Yes, I will! Jesus, Franco. You couldn’t have asked any smoother?”
He’s smiling, finding your stammering all too amusing… and adorable. It was very cute. “It felt fitting to me.” He shrugs casually, slipping off his skates. “After the game and a shower, the diner you like a few blocks from your dorm?”
That was most definitely something he learned during his not-so-secret questionnaires.
“That sounds perfect.” You huff, “now, can you bring me home? I think i’m developing hypothermia.”
After changing into his regular shoes, he stands, offering you his hand. You take it, though it was with an eye roll. Franco smirks at your reaction, not commenting on it as he helps you to your feet.
“Does your body not ache every time you finish?” You ask as the two of you exit the arena, making your way through the dark parking lot.
You regretted your choice of words the second they left your lips. “Don’t even—“
“I have incredible stamina, actually.” Franco cheeses, slinging his arm around you. You allow it, even leaning into his side.
“You are insufferable.” You scoff, but the twitch of your lips betrayed your feigned annoyance.
The laugh that emits from Francos mouth has a smile growing on your lips, it was a sound you’d grown to enjoy.
Franco opens the passenger door for you, which had you suppressing a smile. It was a gesture he made every trip to the arena, in fact—Franco was very much a gentleman, despite boy boyish he could be.
Only when he was the drivers seat with the engine going and heater ablaze, does Franco finally grow serious. “Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, I know you’re sort of a people pleaser.”
Okay, ouch?
Franco’s eyes widen, “I didn’t mean it like that!” He says quickly, stumbling for a way to fix what he said.
You’d never seen Franco have to search for words to say. He was always so smooth and, well, he was never one to falter.
“I know what you meant, and you’re right. But, when have I ever gone out of my way to people please you.” You reassure him, a gentle look on your face. “I want this.”
The rest was history. You want Franco had been going steady for months. Whenever you had enough time in your busy college schedule, you went to his games, you were his number one cheerleader and support system.
Hockey had easily become your favorite sport, you knew everything about it due to Franco’s inability to ever stop talking. Thats probably what made the two of you such a perfect pair. You were quiet, he wasn’t. He was your polar opposite, the yin to your yang. And thats what made it work.
When you didn’t want to talk, he wasn’t there to fill the silence. When he didn’t want to talk, you enjoyed each other’s silence.
You had never thought in a million years, the man who annoyed you oh so much, was the same man you would grow to love.
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likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future franco posts.
ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @purinfelix @sakashq @hrts4havertz @spidybaby
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grimdarling69 · 2 months ago
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Another de aged Ellie and Dan or otherwise known as Crack
P1 P2 P3
Damian is now regretting every decision that led to where he was at this point in his half-life.
He felt so if he had been battered by a storm all night long and he was pretty sure he was having fever dreams because fucking Lex Luthor is currently dabbing at his head with a damp towel.
Come on, Damian. You're better than this. Get up and fight him. Father would be disappointed if I failed to stop whatever luthor was scheming because of a common cold. He could already see his father's face, his disappointment shrouded in the shadows created by the looming stalactites in the cave. He'd take away Robin, he lose Richard's first gift to him. He couldn't let his baba down.
He tried to shed the blankets but his body failed him and he had to resist a coughing fit. He shivered cold and clammy. His body felt heavy and his clothes were sticking to him uncomfortablely. His hair was a mess and clouded his vision.
"Rest now, ghostling. Your very sick. I need to get you into some new clothes and quickly." he murmured quietly, leaning forward and plying his bangs from his face. For a second he thought he was going to kiss his head and he started struggling again.
"Don't-" He attempted but his voice broke off into a coughing fit. He struggled to catch his breath.
"Shh.. shhh...drink." he gently lifted a glass of water with a childishly pinky bendy straw to his lips. His gentle voice and calm actions remindimg him of his baba and he stupidly started to drink it before he remembered where he was and resisted again.
Luthor didn't seem surprised but didn't attempt to speak to him again and gently pushed him back down onto the bed. His eyes were heavy and he had to repeatedly jerk his head to stay awake.
Ancients, what was wrong with him he was a trained assassin. Not to mention Robin he could survive days without even a second of sleep.
Luthor pushed the door open again and carried soft looking sleepwear in his hands. When did he leave? The sleepwear had little stars and moons and suns periodically spread about. He couldn't help but admire them.
"Please don't fight me, Dani- Damian. You have to get out of those drenched clothes. If you sleep in them, you'll just get sicker. Come on, you love the stars." He tried in vain to fight him off, but eventually Luthor was cringing at him, scratches all over his arms and face, holding the wet clothes in one hand.
"Try to get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning." He turned the lights off and closed the door.
He waited a second to make sure he was actually gone. Once he was sure, he tried to wrangle him self off the bed but kept having to blink and rub his eyes. He had finally succeeded in getting out from under the blanket before he couldn't stay awake any longer and passed out from exhaustion.
---------
Vlad because he was Vlad Masters sometimes known as Vlad Plasmius or ugh the Wisconsin Ghost not Lex Luthor he had spent far to long redeeming himself and becoming a productive member of society to be reincarnated into a cruel ceo who cares only about his image and money and destroys the earth to make it. Creating pollution, ruining lives for no reason, abusing his powers, and trying to kill his archnemesis. Okay, maybe he was being a bit hypocritical, but he was redeemed already, and now he had to start all over!
Every villian worth their salt knows that archenemesiss are for life and he was a redeemed one for goodness sake. He may of fought his godson a lot in his early days but he had been alone for so long. He was a ghost they bonded by fighting! He also apologized for not realized that he didn't know ghost culture yet. He assumed he'd gotten a mentor ghost somewhere like he had the dairy king to teach him and once he realized he made him take lessons with that yeti docter of his.
He was the only one of his kind for decades and it certainly didn't help when his best friends abandoned him after killing him. Jasmine loved to physcoanalyze him she often tried to talk to him about his abandonment issues caused by his parents' deaths worsened by his older sister walking out on him and his future almost destroyed because of Jack Fenton and a fucking soda. That his obsession with Madelyn was caused by the fact he was desperate for family and latched onto the first thing that could give him one.
He didn't approve of cursing, he had kids-god-children that didn't need to hear it but he supposed he could excuse it just this once. Or twice.
When his godson had crashed into his island he felt the presence of his other kids but it was diluted almost. He hoped that whenever Damian woke up he could give him some context.
That was another thing. Somehow, his incredibly gifted and smart godson had apparently but reincarnated as Brucie Wayne's son. He could hardly believe it, but it was also worrying he had found some heavy scaring on him. Everywhere he was covered in scars, some had to be a decade old, at least. Whoever hurt his son was going to pay.
"Mr Luthor, sir?" His assistant knocked on his door.
Ugh, Luthor wasn't terrible he had to admit it had a nice ring to it was just-Lex?... disgusting.
"Come in."
"The um...children's cold medicine is here." She spoke unsure, but handed the specially ordered medicine over. It was brought over by a very good drone from the nearest industrialized island, perks of being a billionaire. He had even more money than in his previous life.
"Aw thank you, Susan." She blinked at him while he took the package she'd been with him since before Konner and so it was understandable she wasn't used to him just now caring to remember her name. Konner... he'll have to contact him to set up a meeting between his new son and his brother soon.
"Will you alert the chefs to cook a simple breakfast for us. No onions and no meat. He'll need to eat with this one. Have it brought to his room." He barely remembered that his godson won't be eating meat anymore after he remembered from one chance meeting at a gala but he had always hated onions and he was quite familiar with his rants about the texture of onions by now.
"Yes, sir. Right away" She quickly exited his office. He still wasn't used to humans being on his island, he typically only had animal ghosts with him or his kids if they weren't busy it was quite strange but he was trying to turn down his Vladness.
He stopped to grab a water bottle and started to head to Damian's room. He knocked on the door and waited. Dead silence met him, the white walls of the hallway was only makeing it worse. He forced himself to not think of the past, his whimpers while he had to stitch him together again for if he made to much sound they would hear him , while slowing opening the door.
He was thankfully asleep, and his fever seemed like it was going down. He packed up the damp towel and started to dab his forehead again. His eyes started to stir.
"Vlad?" His now much younger godson questioned looking even younger he seemed small for his age but he was like that in his past life too.
"I'm here." The sigh of relief spoke for itself. Damian stole the hand not currently in use, a familiar reminder that was common practice for them. His eyes closed again. He took the quiet moment to lament on each of his kids.
Jasmine, the oldest, once told him he was her rich and eccentric uncle. She never needed him in the ways her siblings did. She only lived with him on college breaks anyway. She never needed him to pay for her college, she had no shortage of scholarships. While he loved her, they were still distant. And then she was gone.
Dan, he had adopted him in his originak timeline after...an incident. Dan was always difficult in ways his siblings weren't. Dan was most similar to him, he was half of him afterall, and this often caused many different fights between them. Dan being full ghost often lived with Clockwork anyway. He'd always love him but things were always going to be messy between them.
Ellie, his blood daughter and Daniel's clone. The only one that outright considered him her father but she was very independent and he typically only saw her on weekends too busy traveling the world to have a movie night with her dear old dad. He loved her, but they fought alot she always wanted more independence and he just wanted to see his daughter.
Daniel or Damian now had always seemed to need him the most. Sticking around Amity Park even after the GIWs attack. Always asking questions about being a ghost or being an adult really. And even before that he could often find him somewhere in his house after his patrols around Amity he asked him a few times why he came around even before he had redeemed himself and could only ever get " because it's quiet but now you're here so I have to go. See ya fruitloop" and when Damian came to live with him his friends were usually there and sometimes he felt it was more a teenagers clubhouse than a mayoral manor. But he was really the only constant in his life. And in the beginning he was too injured to be alone, floating at the edge of fading away forever, so they were constantly together and they grew closer and as much as Vlad always saw him as a son he doubts Damian sees him as a father. Jack was his father and Madelyn was his mother. He knows that he still sees them as his parents even after everything he was willing to forgive them. He would never admitt it but sometimes he's glad they never came back as ghosts.
And konner...He wasn't really sure about him. He was his son, his clone he created with Superman. While he of course still had Luthors memories, and luthor seemed to love him but he often pushed him aside. He was second to his goal of killing Superman. He would have to work really hard to repair their relationship but first he needed to get to the Infinate Realms.
Soft knocking broke him out of his thoughts. " Come in."
"Sir. Your food has been prepared." Susan pushed in a large cart with 3 tiers. While this life seemed to be all about the pinnacle of opulence, his first was spent majority in bachelorhood, enough said about that.
She parked the cart close to the bed but not enough to be a hindrance. Damians eyes fluttered at the light but stayed still.
Susan looked at Damian in barely hidden concern and he could tell that Susan Darnaby, mother of three boys ranging from the ages of 24 to 15 had strong maternal instincts. Her oldest apparently worked at the Daily Planet and was apparently the main breadwinner of the family after his dad passed away a few years ago from cancer leaving the family in serious medical debt. He might have reread everybody's file and maybe everything he could find on them. The last thing he needed was one of his employees calling cps on him for stealing a child.
"He has already benefited from his rest last night, this medicine will have him in tip-top shape in no time. There's no need to worry." He attempted to reassurance her.
"Of course sir." For some reason she didn't look very reassured and with once last glance at their hands, left quietly.
"Whuz her." Damian mumbled from where his head was stuffed slightly beneath the pillow to block the light from getting in. He snickered and fixed the pillow. Damian pouted.
"My assistant, Susan. You know she has a son around your age." Damian looked positively scandalized.
"Vlad! I am not dating anyone that is affiliated with you!" He sat up and wacked him with the pillow.
"Oof. Ow." The pillow didn't really hit imhim hard it was worryingly gentle, something Damian would never hold back on he once challenged him to a pillow fight but stuffed his with rocks and we both ended up give each other stitches using the bathroom tiles to ice their bruises.
"You know i never said anything about dating, my boy. Now let's see what was prepared." Damians breakfast consisted of small cake like pancakes shaped like stars with bananas and blueberries arranged like a small constellation. While his was some larger normally shaped pancakes with sliced strawberries and bananas arranged around the outer rim. The other two tiers consisted of several scone and jams and of course clotted cream after on the second day Ellie went on a loud rant right outside the kitchen on how offended she was to not be served clotted cream. The last tier consisted of several small deserts and muffins. He even spotted Damian's favorite muffin, blueberry cheesecake. Or well in his previous life at least, he placed it on his plate anyway, couldn't hurt to try.
"I'm not really hungry." Damian waved him off.
"You have to eat to take this medicine and I know you haven't eaten since you flew in last night, or even longer. Most of this stuff we can cover up and leave out, so you can eat it later if you want." Damian hated when he used logic in his previous life but from what he can remember about his few meetings in this life he liked logic and academics and was quite ahead according to Brucie.
Damian begrudgingly ate the muffin, some fruits and a messily cream and raspberry jamed scone. He only had a bite off the corner star of the pancake before deciding he wasn't a fan of the recipe. Vlad ate both of his pancakes, most of the fruits on his plate, a chocolate muffin, and a cream and apple jam scone. Unfortunately the peace couldn't last because as soon as he deemed Damian had ate enough and gave him the medicine he decided now would be the time to talk.
" I think I'm pregnant." Damian stated calmly staring into his tea cup.
Vlad dropped his own cup and watched the beautiful fine china shatter.
"Your...What?" He spluttered.
"Technically incubation. Dan and Ellies bodies completely destabilized and I merged with their cores to save them. It's something Frostbite briefly taught me." He continued.
Thank god.
"Why didn't you just start with that like a normal person. Are you okay? Is anything hurting not feeling alright?" He could hear himself growing more frantic.
"I'm fine Vlad. There not parasites. Well ellie isn't atleast. We'll have to check with Frostbite for everything else, so we'll need to stsrt the portal as soon as possible"
"You'll need to take the medicine for at least a week before I let you start working around such heavy machinery, but i suppose you can do some calculations up here."
"What! I have to get to Frostbite. How do we know we're doing the right thing? What if...I...do something to hurt them." His voice grew quiet and he closed his eyes both arms came to reach across his stomach and his legs slightly raised and he started to hunch over himself.
"Oh, Damian. I've read about incubation before. Ghosts only allow them selves to merge in such a way with people they must truly trust. If they merged with you, nothing will go wrong. Nothing you can do will hurt them." He moved as he was speaking, sitting down on the bed now. Damian and him had reached the same height in his last life but now his new body was much larger, in both height and muscle, than Damians short height and lean muscle. Made even smaller by him shifting into a ball.
"I don't know. I still had so much to learn and what if we can't open the portal again?" He leaned into him his shoulder more level with his head.
"Have you no trust in your old man? I opened the portal on my own last time with only minor Fenton thievery, thank you. Besides,The only setback I've faced here are the corrupted ectoplasm pools." Damian snickered at him, so he knew his joke wasn't for naught. Until he went rigid suddenly.
"Wait what corrupted pools?"
"The green ectoplasm on this island has pooled together somehow and corrupted itself by laying dormant for sometime. Instrsd of the typical cool and chilling effects the green usually has it seems to be almost acid like. Bubbling and burning things, but I've constructed a purifier that seems to be working well enough." He explained quite confused by Damians sudden change in attitude.
"Why didn't I see i before? Ancients this is worse than i thought..." He stood up suddenly, beginning to pace and run his hands through his hair.
"Slow down. What's going on?" He questioned aiming for placading him, Damian needed rest and minimal stress while sick AND incubating two cores.
"The Lazurus Pits! Their corrupted ectoplasm! Grandfather harnassed them to bring the dead back and get pseudo immortality." He stopped dead at the last word but his back was to Vlad. He's never heard of Lazarus pits before...his grandfather? Thomas Wayne was immortality? But he's dead!
"Thomas Wayne is...immortal?" He questioned as such.
"What? What made you come to that insane conclusion?" He turned to face him, he looked concerned like Vlad was the crazy one muttering.
" Your grandfather?" He looked like a fish, blinking and moving his mouth like he wasn't sur what to say.
"That's actualy not even the craziest thing ive heard actually. No, Ra's al Ghul, the Demon Head is my maternal Grandfather, my mother is Talia al Ghul." What the fuck.
" Brucie Wayne slept with the demons daughter?" Damian couldn't hold back his laughter anymore and burst into laughter turning into a coughing fit, that shook his ribs, and he leant over like he wa going to fall. Vlad quickly moved to support him.
"I'm fine, fruitloop. I just need some water." Vlad steered him to lay back down on the bed. "Stop it fruitloop, your not even my..." he didn't need mind reading powers to know what he was going to say.
" I know." He still tucked him into bed. Moving to turn out the star nightlight out.
"Batman is my father. Batman is Bruce Wayne" I think I'm going to faint.
"The other..." "my siblings." "Of course, no matter what universe we're in you have a crazy family." " You can't talk you made a clone with your archenemy in both lives AND added your own DNA both times."
"It was an accident the first time!" He spluttered.
"Not the second time!" Damian returned.
"I think you need a nap, young man." He sassed.
"Vlad! I am not a baby!" He ignored that remark.
"I'll have Susan wake you up at lunchtime and we'll go to the lab. Is that acceptable for you?"
"Tch." Damian turned around and closed his eyes. He finally succeeded in turning off the lights.
"Sleep well, son." Closing the door softly.
Whatever was a half-ghost to do?
‐--------
Clark Kent was an avid hater of the waiting game. Although he was no stranger to it. It had been now a week since Damian disappeared. Tim had called his sons and broke the news. They had quicky wrapoed everything up and flew back. Jon had yelled at him for hours about having to hear about Damians disappearance from Tim. He just didn't know how to break the news to him. He knew Jon felt betrayed by him especially because they were finally stsrted healing their relationship after everything. Even worse because Jon had finally confided in him how he felt about Damian and now he didn't even tell him when he was kidnapped.
From what he's heard from Bruce, Jon can't hear his heartbeat, but knowing Lex he's most likely kept behind lead so not a totall loss of hope it just means they need detectives not supers.
So he was back at work after parting with Lois he had headed to the break room to get more coffee when he heard it.
"So what Lex has a few sick kids and you think child trafficking? We can't lose another income, mom. Ignore it. Please." He heard his coworker, one he often listened listened in to as his mother coincidentally worked at Lexcorp.
He focused his hearing onto the mother's voice on the other side of the phonecal.
" You don't get it. I can't just ignore it. He experimented on those kids then put them to bed like it was just another day. And then suddenly the kids are gone and the next day another kid is here? It's not right! Something is going on. Wveryday he wakes him up and they est breakfast then they go down to his private lab and dont come out till lunch sometimes until dinner. Last night they didn't come out till midnight and he carried the kid to his own bedroom. There's something going on and I've seen to many rich men take advantage of young children. I can't ignore this again."
Oh god, what if Bruce was wrong about Lex somehow figuring out his identity. What if he noticed him at a gala and took a liking to him. As a reporter he done countless stories on people in high positions who took advantage of their positions of authority to hurt kids. Lex had never seemed that way to him but how well did he really know him anyway? He had some kind of breakdown that changed him anyway. He needed to talk to someone who was familiar with people like this.
He has to call Jason.
A/n I took this chapter to hash out my thoughts on a redeemed father vlad and kis kids. Danny is obviously his favorite, but he does love all of his kids they just don't feel the need to stick around Amity Park like I think Danny would. Danny is also his character foil, and I wanted to tie in both parallels into both him and bruce with vlad. So that is not Canon vlads backstory but something i thought about with the fact he is desperate or obsessed with the idea of a family. Also, if you see any inconsisties between Damian and vlads' povs and the "attack," their might be a reason hint hint. I also wanted to say that vlad and lex are both quite similar in concept but vlad in my au decided to become better for his kids and to choose them first not like lex who loves kon in his own way but is still second to his own mission. vlad very much is more vlad than he is lex mostly because he sees himself in lex if he didn't choose his kids over villainy. While Damian and danny are now more of a mix between each other. I like to think that the danny that saw a random girl who just said she was his cousin and just rolled with it would just roll with the flow if he was reincarnated. I also wanted to bring up the fact that vlad and Damian will pick up the pace and be a lot more worried as you'll see next part and right now the bats are in a disarray trying to find him. Also the supers I only had Jon age up 2 years older than Damian cause he will be a bigger part of the story and I needed him older hint hint he has his mother's purple eyes in this story.
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cowboydisaster · 1 year ago
Note
I have no idea about the historical accuracy of this but imagine a reader who used to be in a pretty well off family (think like the braithwaites level in society) but she left it all and gave everything up to be with Arthur. It’s her first Christmas away from her family and she misses the Christmas tree back home. Queue Arthur cutting a tree down with his big manly man strength and dragging it back to camp to surprise her🥲
* ˚ ✦ Stardust * ˚ ✦
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pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 4k a/n: margo!! This prompt was too cute. I kinda took it and RAN so I hope I did it justice! xx
cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: SEVEN days 'till christmas!
christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist
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If there's one thing you haven't gotten used to in this way of life, it's the elements. Camp is situated in Big Valley along the Upper Montana River. It's beautiful, and more open country than you've ever seen in your life. But damn, is it cold in winter. Snow drifts down from Mount Shann, creating a beautiful flurry of white around camp, albeit a freezing one. 
At this moment, though, the cold doesn't bother you. In the safety of your tent, back tucked against Arthur's chest, it's impossible for the cold to reach you. He keeps you warm. Like a furnace, that man. You'd be worried he was running a fever if you weren't so used to his toasty-warm temperature. 
You shuffle against Arthur, readjusting in the soft cotton cot. The wind whispers quietly outside, peacefully. Gone is the loud whipping ice storm that had come through a week or so ago. It's been replaced by a quiet falling of snow, the creak of nearby oaks. 
“Darlin’? What is it?” Arthur whispers, voice sleepy against your ear. The hand that's hung over your waist squeezes gently, a small act of encouragement to respond. You smirk. You can picture his face, eyes closed, or half-lifted, eyebrows knitting with worry. 
“What's wrong?” He whispers again. The hand on your waist flattens against your stomach, gently pulling you back towards him. 
Oh, your Arthur. His heart is perfectly in tune with yours, and well, when yours is sunk, he notices. A peculiar little thing you've discovered– he always notices those small details, those small fluctuations in your mood. On top of that, he always addresses them. 
Those selfless personality traits are why you left the city in the first place. Arthur is genuine, real. He's caring, and he communicates with you when you're upset. Your mamá and papá were far too concerned with selling you off to the most eligible bachelor in Saint Denis to care about your feelings. The bachelor's characteristics were of no importance, just his wealth and status in society. That life was… a load of shit, as your dear Arthur would say. 
You'd started sneaking downtown at night to get away from the chaos of your home. Your parents were always fighting and screaming. Broken dishes and ringing ears became a staple in that house. La Bastille Saloon was a short walk from your house on Flavian Street. And that's where you met Arthur. 
Despite his career, you immediately recognized him to be the first honest man that you'd ever met in your life. In a mere thirty seconds of conversation, you'd found a depth to him that your father could never scratch, a kindness that no arranged husband would show you. And so it became a habit. You'd sneak out of your window a few times a week, meeting him at La Bastille– talking, laughing, drinking. Arthur's whiskey burned far more than the French wine you'd sipped on in your life. Where you came from, drinking was for show. To sip on a glass of imported chablis was to assert class, but Arthur taught you how to drink for fun. He'd taught you how to play cards and how to cure a hangover. Your parents would be mortified at your unladylike behavior. 
Arthur showed you fun, and kindness, spontaneity and honesty in a world that you thought was without those virtues. When Arthur had asked you to join him, it was an easy yes. He laid it all out. the good, the bad and the ugly. Criminals, you'd be joining. He was afraid that you would turn away, but crime is no stranger to you. Coming from high society, you saw the rich take from the poor time and again. You saw laundering and fraud, servitude, coercion and arranged murder. 
All your family does is twist lies for their own benefit. They're all snakes, sinking their teeth into everything they come across. Gluttonous in their pursuit to expel venom. It has drowned the whole city of Saint Denis, sunk into the cobblestone roads and poisoned the entire place. 
You see more honesty in the Van der Linde's life of crime than in your family's. At least the Van der Lindes are honest about what they do, and only rob from those who rob from others. 
Leaving with Arthur was the most freeing feeling you've ever experienced. You love him with all your heart. You love the gang, and your new life, and yet even with all that you've gained, you still left so much behind. Joining Arthur; it's the best decision you've ever made, and you don't regret it for a moment, but the approaching holiday is bringing out sadness, memories of your childhood, friends that you'd left in the city. Any good memory of the city is recalled through rose tinted glasses, but still, it's beginning to sting now that it's almost Christmas.
“Darlin’?” Arthur says, the grogginess no longer evident in his voice. He pulls you back to the present like a tether. His thumb drags soothingly over your hip bone, and underneath the thick blankets, you lay your hand atop his. 
“Hmm?” You offer. 
“Where's your head at?” Arthur whispers, breath against your ear. 
“Oh, just thinking.” You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. It's a sad smile, bittersweet. If a candle were lit, and he could see it, Arthur would be much more worried. 
His fingertips brush your hair away from your face, gently pulling some strands behind your ear towards the braid they have escaped from. 
Arthur lifts his hand from you, adjusting the blankets as you turn over in bed. Once you're facing him, he makes sure that all of the blankets cover your frame.
“It's just that this will be my first Christmas away from home.” 
A small silence ensues. One that threatens to let tears slip down your rosy cheeks. Your nose tucks into Arthur's chest as you sniffle, hoping he hasn't taken your words with offense. This is your home now, and you wouldn't have it any other way. But old habits die hard. 
“You missin’ home?” Arthur whispers between kisses to your hair. You shake your head quickly 
“No-no. I don't want you to think-” 
“Baby, I ain't gonna give you a hard time ‘cause you're missin’ home. Hell… my childhood weren’t nothin’ but a world of pain, and sometimes I miss it.” 
You should have expected his understanding. Arthur's never made you feel foolish for your feelings. His hand traces along your hip, keeping you warm and coaxing you to settle back into the comfortable space that he’s surrounded you with. 
“I’m finding it difficult.” You whisper, “The holidays are coming up, and they’re bringing lots of memories. Fond ones, things I don’t want to forget.”
“Tell me about them.”
“Well…” You crack a small smile, eyes going far away, back to old memories long ago, “Papá would have a Christmas tree shipped from Cumberland forest, only the best for him of course.” You chuckle, and Arthur smiles for the sweet sound. 
“And we would decorate it with candles, blown glass, popcorn and cranberries. Oh, it was such a sight Arthur.” You say, a wonder in your voice. The memories are crystal clear in your head. Bright colors, laughter, songs. 
Arthur's Christmas memories don't bring much joy. Except for the year his daddy didn't come home. Still, the way your eyes have lit up– Arthur wishes he could have experienced the Christmas that you're describing. He wishes he could see you with that much joy. 
“Have you ever seen a Christmas tree?” You ask, rekindling that tether and pulling him back to you. 
“Nah, only in the papers. I ain't never lived nowhere so fancy to have a Christmas tree.” 
“It was so beautiful…” You whisper, a chill running down your spine. You hardly notice it, but Arthur pulls you closer nonetheless, his body heat wrapping around you like the warmest of blankets. 
“It seemed as if when the tree was decorated and we all sat together, maybe it was not so bad.” You murmur, and the wonder dissipates from your eyes, replaced with reality. 
Arthur waits for you to collect your thoughts. A whistle of wind breaks the silence before you do. 
“Ah, I'm sorry for this show of emotion. It's silly of me.” 
He shakes his head, forehead gently meeting yours. Your eyes marvel up at Arthur, making out the deep blue of his eyes from a stretch of moonlight that's infiltrated the room. 
“You ain't ever gotta apologize for gettin’ emotional, sweetheart. Not with me.” 
All you can do is nod, feeling again like a schoolgirl with butterflies running rampant in your stomach. His breath traces your face, noses just barely lining each other. 
His lips meet yours, soft and sweet. Your heart soars like it does every time he kisses you. It's something that you're sure you won't ever get used to. But something you're hoping to find familiarity in, because you never want to stop kissing him. 
He pulls away all too soon for your liking, placing a sweet kiss to your forehead. When he hears your small whine, he huffs. 
“I know, get back to sleep baby, I'll still be here in the mornin’.”
It doesn't take long for you to slip back into slumber, not with the soft whisper of the wind, and the cocoon of warmth around you. Arthur practically carries you across the threshold into sleep with the way his arms wrap around you. 
In the little tent, deep in the snow, Arthur begins to hatch his plan. He kisses your head, climbing over you and out of bed to light a candle. It provides just enough light to illuminate the pages of his journal. Just enough light for him to illustrate his surprise. 
He had promised you– all those months ago, when he'd packed your bags onto his horse and ridden you out of the city– that he would do anything and everything to make you happy. It's a promise that he intends to keep  
— — — 
a few days later 
“This is the one.” Arthur marvels, sparkling eyes cast upwards toward the fullest, greenest evergreen in Cumberland Forest. You deserve nothing but the best, and he’s sure that he’s found it.  
Arthur takes a short moment to pull out his journal, dusting some fallen snow from the leather cover. He sketches the tree, a way for him to remember the moment. To remember how the tree had been, perfectly untouched in nature. He takes his time, back propped against the unhitched wagon in the forest, hat covered in a thick dusting of snow. A few flakes even drop onto the page, melting and smudging his charcoal. 
When the branches are sketched to his liking, he accompanies them with a quick passage and closes the book. 
For the lady. Christmas. 1899. 
When the book snaps shut and is stuffed back into his journal, he looks up, finding a questioning look on his trusted stallion’s face. 
“What?” Arthur’s brow furrows, “I’ll plant another one.” 
The stallion sighs.  
Arthur moves around the back of the wagon, pulling an ax from the toolbox, dusting some snow off the handle with gloved hands. The ground is covered in a thick layer of white, the horses too. They press their noses together, whinnying and rumbling, entertaining each other with horse-typical play in the snow. 
“Jasper. Sugar. Quit bein’ sweet on one another, we got work to do.” Arthur calls back to the two horses. What a pair, those two.
Jasper is Arthur’s stallion. He’s well behaved. Shy. Obedient. Then there’s Sugar. She was a gift from Arthur to you. White as snow and wild as the wind. She still is, despite all of her training. 
Arthur had brought the pair of them with the wagon to pull the tree back to camp. But now, Sugar seems more interested in kicking up snow, and well– Jasper is only interested in following Sugar around, hearts practically emitting from his eyes. 
Snow falls in thick flakes,  dotting Arthur’s red flannel and melting against the thick material.  He pays it no mind. The snowfall silences the forest, save for the rhythmic whack…whack of Arthur’s ax hitting the evergreen, and the softened sound of playful hooves in the snow.
“Don’t tire yourselves out.” Arthur huffs to the horses, “Jesus.”
A few more swings of the ax, and the tree begins to fall. It hits the ground with a thud, not nearly as loud as Arthur imagined it would be. But, the snow softened the fall, he supposes. 
In a matter of minutes, the tree is in the wagon. Just a few more, and Jasper and Sugar are pulling it home. 
If everything is going according to plan, right now you should be with Marybeth, picking holly. She had taken you out, because she had “wanted to spruce up camp a bit.” Little do you know, the little adventure is a part of Arthur’s plan. With you away from camp, he was able to borrow Sugar, take Jasper, and get the tree. With you away from camp, the final touches can fall into place.
Arthur gently taps the reins over the horse’s backs, urging them into a faster canter along the beaten down snow path back towards camp.
“Hyah! C’mon, we’re pushin’ it.” He calls to the horses. The little golden bells on their harnesses jingle and ring as he pushes them towards camp, massive evergreen in tow. He checks his pocket watch, cursing quietly before putting it away.  Sadie should be done by now. 
It’s not long before the horses are pulling into camp, large puffs of white billowing out from their noses as they catch their breath. Arthur hops down from the wagon, his hand running along the expanse of it as he reaches the back. 
“Well,  I’ll be damned!” Dutch’s voice booms from across the camp. He makes his way towards the wagon, “Now this is how we celebrate Christmas!” 
The evergreen nearly overtakes the wagon, branches sticking out from all directions, billows of snow still stuck to them. Dutch has no idea how Arthur managed to get it into the wagon. An approaching Hosea is just as flabbergasted.  
“You know, I never took you to be much of a romantic, Arthur. But this might just prove me wrong.” Hosea 
“Whatever you say. Now, quit gawkin’ and help me get this big bastard up.” Arthur mumbles, grabbing the thick tree by the trunk and pulling it down. Sap sticks to his hands as he begins to drag it out of the wagon. Carrying it into the center of camp is a group effort– much easier than Arthur getting it into the wagon by himself. 
“I reckon you two can handle this. I got some other things to check up on.” Arthur steps back, sizing the tree up and down.
“Run along then and leave us the hard work.” Dutch muses, within earshot of Arthur.
“Figured it would do your old bones some good to do real work, Dutch!” Arthur hollers back over his shoulder,  chuckling to himself as he makes his way towards the circle of tents.
“Mrs. Adler?”  Arthur hollers, approaching the A-frame tent, “You in there?”
Before he can part the white canvas tent, Sadie emerges, and he backs up.
 “You get it done?” Arthur asks, cheeks tinged bright pink from the cold. Hat white instead of black. Sadie chuckles for it. 
“Did I get it done?” Sadie mocks with a huff, “A’ course I got it done.”
From her tent, she pulls out a Christmas tree garland. A string carefully woven through dried cranberries and popped corn. It's beautiful and long. It must have taken her hours to make. Arthur’s eyes go wide in small wonder as she transfers the garland to him. 
“S’perfect, Sadie. She’s gonna love this.”
A wide, bittersweet smile stretches across Sadie’s face, “Jake taught me how,” there is a pause as Arthur nods in understanding, “Now go. Go decorate it for your woman.” Sadie smirks.  
“Dear boy! Dear boy, how does it look?” Hosea calls out, and Arthur’s attention shoots towards the tree. They have it standing upright now, perfectly in the center of camp. It stands tall, a real beauty. 
“Perfect.” He gapes at it, wishing he could have done something like this when he was younger– hoping that it will live up to your memories. Arthur doesn’t have the money to buy fancy ornaments, but he’s doing everything in his power to make it special for you. 
With the help of the horses and the wagon, everyone manages to wrap the garland the whole way around the tree, even up to the top. The little trail of white and red looks beautiful against the dark green of the pine. Arthur places lit candles in holders on the branches, casting a beautiful hazy glow that lights up the tree. Camp members begin to gather, circling around the tree, watching and helping. Mrs. Grimshaw offers some holly. Karen offers some candy canes that she had bought in town, hanging them from the branches. 
The sun begins to set, and Arthur checks his watch, knowing that you’ll be back any minute. A small tug on his pants pulls his attention downwards. 
“Uncle Arthur?” Little Jack whispers, eyes sparkling with the reflection of the tree lights, “I made this for you! For you to put it on auntie's tree!” 
Arthur’s brow furrows, and he glances quickly up to Abigail, who is smiling warmly. Jack reaches into his little bag and pulls out a beautiful paper star. He has apparently put a lot of time and effort into folding and cutting the paper into a perfect little topper. Jack’s little hands extend the star up to Arthur, the smile on his face brighter than any of the tree’s candles. 
“You made this?” Arthur asks. 
“Yep, I sure did! Momma even helped me cut the paper!” 
Arthur kneels on the ground– eye level with Jack, a smirk on his lips,  “I think we better put it on the top then, don't you?”
“Oh yes! It would be perfect on top! I just hope aunt y/n likes it…” 
“She’ll love this, buddy.” 
With some more help from a very grumpy Sugar, Arthur manages to place the star perfectly on  the tree top. And just in time, apparently.
When Arthur steps back, taking in the tree for all its glory, his jaw falls slack, eyes filling up with wonder.
It's beautiful. At dusk, the candles shine brightly. The garland has attracted a few red cardinals, and they rest in the branches, comfortable in the new camp tree. Everyone looks in awe. It’s perfect.
— — — 
“No peekin’.” Arthur whispers in your ear from behind, his hands covering your eyes. He slowly walks you forwards towards… something. He hasn’t explained anything to you, just… kidnapped you right outside of camp. You’ve been walking with him, eyes covered for nearly five minutes. 
“Oh, Arthur, what is going on!?” You giggle, hands covering the length of his own, a smile plastered on your face. 
“S’a surprise, darlin’. That’s why you can’t peek.” Arthur’s voice whispers from behind you,  his chest nearly pressed against your back as he inches you forward. 
You roll your eyes. Suddenly, his footsteps are still behind you, and you stop in return. 
“Is this why I was stuck in the forest picking berries all day?” You ask. Arthur huffs. 
“Shhh. We’re here.” He shushes. 
Your heart quickens with excitement, bottom lip tight between your teeth with anticipation. As much as you try to listen for any clues, all you can hear is the munching of hay and the crackle of the campfire– typical for camp after dusk. 
“Arthur…?” You whisper, almost afraid to break the quiet. Anticipation swirls in your stomach, followed by anxiety tickling up your spine. 
His calloused hands pull away from your eyes, and your lashes flutter as you focus on the sight in front of you.
It’s… a christmas tree. Your jaw falls slack, and as unladylike as it may be, you can’t help it. A small gasp escapes your rosy lips. 
It must be twelve feet high, and it's thick with branches. Candles, and decor wrap around the tree like a dress tailored to perfection. Color and light burst from the beautiful tree, and before you can control yourself, tears are welling up in your eyes. 
“Arthur, I–” Your voice cracks, the tears almost spilling over.
“Darlin’?” Arthur’s thumb softly brushes the inside of your hand. For a moment, he worries that he’s misstepped terribly. The sight of your tears brings forth a small panic, quelled by the outburst of your smile. Tears fall freely from your eyes, but they are of joy– not sadness. 
“You got me– You got me a Christmas tree?” You smile, wiping away the tears as he envelopes you into his warm arms. You sniffle, laughs of pure joy escaping into his chest as he holds you tight.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Arthur whispers to you, arms wrapped around your waist. The light from the tree dances in your eyes, almost as beautiful and bright as your smile. 
“Oh, Arthur, it’s perfect.” You gasp, eyes glued to the tree, pulling away to glance into Arthur’s eyes, “How ever did you get it here?” 
“With a little help.” Arthur nods towards the horse station where Sugar and Jasper are laying in the hay, nuzzling each other sweetly. As if knowing, Sugar whinnies towards you softly, followed by a quiet neigh from Jasper.  
Your eyes wander back towards the tree in front of you, and then to Arthur once again. His hands slide down from your waist, thumbs settling into the dimples in your back. 
“It's beautiful.” You say.
“It’s all yours.” 
In all of your life, Arthur has been the first person to cater to your emotions– to care about them. Your heart fills with love, so much that it overflows and floods the earth at your feet. Soaking into the ground of the camp, touching the hearts of the others around you. 
“I love you.” You whisper, head resting on Arthur’s chest, eyes fixed on a cardinal that’s pecking at the popped corn on the tree. 
“I-” Arthur pauses, realizing. His brow furrows, eyes flickering down, “Wait, what?”
“I said I love you.” You reiterate, chin propped on his chest to look up at him. Arthur looks nearly blown away by the words. Words he’s not heard from you yet. Words that he’s nearly let slip time and again over the past few months. 
Arthur’s lips crack into a smile, crows feet wrinkling for the action. His thumb brushes your cheek before trailing down to your chin, pulling you in towards his lips. You lean on your tiptoes, brushing your lips against his, meeting him with all the love and joy that you never thought would be possible for you. He’s taken you from a bad situation, and given you everything you could have wanted and more. Your lips press against his, pink-tinged noses lining each other. Your eyes flutter shut, snowflakes catching in your thick lashes as you deepen the kiss. Your fingers tangle into the hair at the base of his neck, your tongues dance with one another. 
When you pull away to breathe, your eyes lock with his, sparkling with light. 
“I love you too.” He smirks, hands wrapping under your thighs, eliciting giggles from you as he hoists you into his arms. Fat snowflakes fall into your hair as Arthur turns towards your tent, ready to carry you to bed. 
“No- wait!” You grip his arm, stopping him in his tracks, “Please, Arthur- just five more minutes. I’d like to keep looking at the tree.” 
Arthur pauses, brushing your cold cheek, “Alright. Five more minutes.” He smiles, pressing a sweet kiss to your hair.
The tree shines bright as ever, as if god had sprinkled stardust down from the heavens, painting your tree in beautiful white light. 
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hsrockstargf · 10 months ago
Text
Object of Desire*
AN: this is my first time posting on here so please be gentle☺️
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summary: Honey Rose, one of the most sought after adult film actress, get picked to do a scene for director Harry Styes. What happens when she finds out that he will be the one doing the scene with her?
work count: 7.5k
tropes: pornstarry
warnings: 18+, language, explicit smut, fluff
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Lights, Camera, Action. 
I’ve always wanted to hear those words be uttered before a scene- to feel the adrenaline rush as I make the script come to life. As a little kid I would whisper them to myself before I would put on a short skit for my grandma, and it made me feel like I was a real movie star. Now at 26 years old- I am the furthest thing from a movie star, but I guess an actress could be the term for my job. 
The adrenaline that I love to feel rush through my veins is present as well as the nervousness that is making my hands sweat slightly. The possibilities of today swirl around my mind as I walk down the long corridor to meet the director of today’s shoot. 
I never thought this is what I would be doing to keep a roof over my head and food in my belly, but I can’t say I’m disappointed. What started out as occasionally posing for a lingerie company to help me get through school turned into signing up for an OnlyFans and making $7,000 a week. 
I never did anything too risque on my page, only posting pictures of me half naked without showing my face and occasionally taking a few requests from subscribers. My following grew exponentially and it continued until I didn’t know how to manage all of the content people were asking me to film. 
A few months ago, a manger reached out to me wanting to represent me. Although this was a far fetch from the job I’ve always wanted, I couldn’t turn it down. Having sex in front of a camera with a whole team watching you and a million more waiting to see it with a person you barely know is scary and intimidating- but I took the job anyway. I like the money and sometimes the sex is actually quite enjoyable when I can get out of my own head.  
This particular job came as a surprise to both me and my manager. Usually, my manager would reach out to a filming company, give them my head shots, and then wait to hear back if they wanted to use me for the scene they were wanting to film, but for this one the director himself reached out to my manager. Apparently, he had seen some of my work and wanted me to be one of the stars in his new video. 
Harry Styles- is the biggest name in the porn industry and someone you don’t say no to.  Not only is he one of the hottest and sought after pornstars, but he is also known for being a fantastic director. Every single one of his videos has at least a million views, if not more; they are hot and sensual, plucked right from all the fantasies that I’ve stored away in my brain. He started out just like everyone else, at the bottom of the totem pole, but he became so successful so fast that everyone in the industry wanted to work with him. Recently, he’s been focusing more on the directing side of his job, foregoing the acting part which many people have complained about, but of course he doesn't care. 
I’m not embarrassed to admit that I’ve gotten myself off multiple times from watching him. Just listening to his deep, slow, and raspy voice would make my cunt slick before reaching into my night stand to grab my purple bullet vibrator. I would press it to my clit and circle it around while I watched him kiss down the length of the random girl’s body before he would uncover her wet pussy and taste her for the first time. He would use both his tongue and fingers to get her off before fucking her into the matress, making her scream out in pleasure as he takes her from behind and slaping the plump flesh of her ass as she comes on his thick cock. He would fuck her through her orgasm, and the sound of both of their moans would make my stomach swirl with pleasure. I would always tease myself, not letting myself come until I knew he was about to orgasm. To not disturb my neighbors, I would flip around on my belly with my vibrator still pressed closely to my swollen clit and bite into my pillow as I listened to his deep moans as he came, finally finding my release alongside him. 
It’s gonna be hard for me to look him in the eye today and not picture him like that; to not think of the way his back muscles flex while hovering over his partner, thrusting into them as hard and fast as he can or the way the vein on his neck pops out when he tilts his head back in pleasure. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to focus on my costar as Harry directs us, only focusing on him and what he wants from me. 
“Honey?” A small woman stands in front of me, holding a clipboard and a pair of headphones hanging around her neck. “Honey Rose?” 
“Yeah, that’s me. Sorry, I guess I’m a little distracted.” I answer to my stage name, and laugh off my embarrassment. She giggles along with me, easing my nerves. 
With an extended hand she says, “Hi, I’m Jenny, Harry’s assistant.” I take her hand and offer her a smile. “I’ll be showing you around and then I’ll take you to meet him.” After we shake hands she pulls away and turns around. “Follow me and I’ll show you where you can put your stuff.” 
We make small talk while walking down the hallway towards an unknown destination. Jenny rattles off all the things she did this morning, preparing for the shoot and she also tells me how excited Harry is to meet me. 
My stomach once again flips at the thought of being in his presence, but I don’t get a chance to think about it more when Jenny stops in front of a door that says ‘Honey Rose.’ 
“I get my own dressing room?” 
Jenny looks at me with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Of course you do. Have you never had one before?” She opens the door, stepping to the side to let me walk in the room first. “Harry always makes sure his stars are taken care of.” 
I shake my head while walking in the room. It’s nothing too extravagant, with a love seat couch tucked in the corner with a small coffee table in front of it and a vanity on the far left wall, but it’s nicer than anything I’ve gotten before. Usually I have to get undressed in front of all the crew before slipping into a robe, so having this space puts me at ease. 
At least I’ll have some privacy throughout this shoot. 
“If you just wanna set your stuff down I’ll take you to meet Harry. He’s just now finishing setting up the bedroom set.” I take my coat off and hang it over the back of the chair and then place my purse on the coffee table. “You ready?” 
“As I’ll ever be.” I stick my hands in my pockets to hide the fact that they are shaking and follow after Jenny. For being as tiny as she is she sure can walk fast and I find myself wishing she would slow down so I can prepare myself. 
The set is a normal looking bedroom. It’s cozy, warm, and inviting. The bed is dawned in white sheets, a white duvet, and a tan throw with brown pillows. The bedside tables are decorated with items to make it look like someone actually lives here and a mirror leans against the wall across from the bed. 
There aren't a lot of people in this room right now, some are setting up certain light fixtures and others are testing out the equipment, but I immediately know which one is Harry. Dressed in long black flared trousers and a matching black shirt, he stands next to the mirror, angling it so it perfectly aims at the head of the bed. 
He hasn’t noticed us yet, but when Jenny clears her throat he looks up in the mirror and immediately makes eye contact with me. “Harry, this is -”
“Honey Rose.” My fake name rolls off his lips and I find myself begging to hear him use my real name. “I know who she is, Jenny. Would be kind of hard not to know.” Harry stuffs one hand in his pocket and makes his way over to me. “I’m Harry.” He extends his hand out to me and it takes me a second before I do the same. 
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you, Harry.” I hope he doesn’t see the school girl blush on my cheeks, but I can’t help but find myself so taken with him. His hair falls perfectly in waves in a slight middle part that frames his face. There is a shadow of facial hair surrounding his jaw and around his lips, drawing attention to the pinkness of them. His eyes shine bright compared to the darkness of his hair; beautiful sea green staring straight at me. The tattoos on his arm stand out and I find myself looking over each and every one, but then I remember that I’m still holding onto his hand. I let go rather quickly and he chuckles at me. “I’m excited to work with you. I’ve heard nothing but great things.” 
“Well, I should hope so.” Two dimples pop out on the sides of his cheeks as he smiles while pushing his hair back and off his forward. “But I’m curious, are they talking about my directing skills or how I fuck?” 
I keep myself composed, even though all I want to do is tell him that my information is coming from the videos that I’ve watched of him. I gather up all the confidence in my body and say, “Both, but I guess I’ll only be seeing one of those talents today.” 
A confused look flashes across his face, but he doesn’t let it last. His lips perk up and he quietly says, “We’ll see about that.” Now it's my turn to be confused. I open my mouth to ask him what he means by that but he stops me. “Honey, would you mind joining me in my office? I just want to go over a few things with you, if that’s all right.” 
“Of course. Whatever you need.” Harry places his hand on my lower back and escorts us out of the room. His office isn’t too far away, but the walk is filled with a thick tension. He ushers me in, and tells me to sit on the couch like the one similar to mine in my dressing room. Harry takes a seat next to me, not sitting behind the desk which honestly makes me feel more equal to him. 
“As you may know, my videos are praised for how real and authentic they seem. I don’t do the corny pizza delivery guy bullshit or any of those cheesy porns that have terrible dialogue and even worse acting. I like to make everyone on set feel comfortable, so that they can actually feel the pleasure instead of faking it. Does that make sense?” He crosses one of his legs over the other, and the way his trousers move it showcases his thick thighs bulging under the surface of the fabric. 
“It makes perfect sense, and I really respect what you are doing here. Most of the time they just throw me in a room with a guy and just tell me to fuck him.” 
“I can promise you that’s not gonna be the case today, but I do need to ask you a few questions. You can answer whichever ones you want or not if you don’t want to.”  I nod my head at him, telling him I understand. That smirk reappears on his face, but this time I don’t get so flushed. The way he’s looking at me makes me want to sit on top of his desk and have his head be buried in my cunt. “I just need to know so I can fuck you just how you like it.” 
“Y-you’re gonna be the one fu- in the scene with me?” My heart rate picks up in anticipation and I hope I didn’t just hear him wrong. He hasn’t done a video in such a long time. Why would he start now? 
“That wasn’t the original plan.” Harry stands up, walking closer to me before crouching down in front of me. His knees touch mine and even through the fabric of both of our clothes I can feel his warm skin. “When I was looking for the girl for this shoot I came across one of your videos.” Harry’s fingertip grazes over my knee and he starts to draw circles on it. “It was just you, laying on a bed, with a vibrator on your pretty little pussy.” He looks up at me, and grabs a hold of my jaw. “You had beautiful moans coming from these lips. I just knew that I couldn’t sit there and watch someone fuck you, not when I could be the one doing it.” 
I turn my head, still keeping eye contact with him. His thumb that was on my jaw now rests against the skin of my lips. I puker them, softly kissing his thumb before taking it into my mouth for just a moment. “You want to fuck me, Harry?” His eyes are dark, lustfully watching as I kiss his thumb, suck on it, and then let it plop from between my lips. 
“Oh, honey.” Harry moves his hand away from my face, placing it on my knee again. With both hands, he pushes my thighs apart and situates himself between them. “You have no fucking clue.” I burn under his gaze. His touch is light and teasing, kneading the muscles of my thighs while he looks up at me. “I still need you to answer a few questions for me. Can you do that for me, honey?” 
“Please, call me Emma.” I don’t mind being called Honey. In fact it makes me feel confident and sexy, but right now I just want to feel real with him. 
“Okay, Emma. Are you okay with me warming you up before we shoot? I can do it right here, spread you out and make you come on my fingers so you're more sensitive while we film. You need to be warm, wet, and ready for me.” 
Harry kisses up the length on my pant leg, placing his lips right on top of the sem and stopping when he gets close to my center. “Yes, please make me come, Harry.” After I give him the okay, he doesn't waste a second before undoing the button on my pants and pulling them down my legs. He takes in the sight of my red lace thong and by the way the air creates a cool sensation on my panties, I know I’m wet for him; and he can see it. 
“I’m gonna ask you a few questions, but you have to promise me that you’ll answer them truthfully, okay?” 
Harry patiently awaits an answer, starting to slowly kiss up my thigh. He kisses both of my knees and continues to switch between both legs as he travels upwards until he reaches my midthigh and sits back up. “Yeah, I-I’ll answer them.”
“Let’s start with an easy one.” Harry drags his hands across my skin, nails scratching slightly. He finds my hips, tracing his thumb in the crease where my hip bends from sitting down. “Are you okay with me kissing you?” 
“Yes, I actually prefer it.” With the grip on my hip, he pulls me to the edge of the couch so I’m barely even sitting on it. He leans into me, pressing his chest against mine as he tucks himself into my neck. 
“Hmm,” His curls tickle my cheek, his sweet smell overpowers me, and his nose teases up my neck. “Is there anything that’s a hard no for you during sex?” I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” 
The fact that he isn’t even asking me these questions puts me at ease. Though I haven’t had a lot, my costars never asked me what I was or wasn’t comfortable with. The directors never cared, only making sure every piece of dialogue and every cue on the script was hit. 
“You can do anything to me. If it’s you doing it, I know I’ll like it.” 
“You’re stroking my ego here, Em.” 
The tip of his nose grazes my jawline before it's replaced by his lips. He is still holding onto my hips and even though I love his hands there I wish he would touch me elsewhere. Just from him being this close to me, my cunt is slick and my clit is throbbing, waiting to be touched. 
“I’ve watched you before. I know how you fuck, so anything you want to do go right on ahead. I can take you, Harry.” 
“Oh, I have no doubts about that.” Placing a kiss on my cheek, he stands up and sits down next to me again. “Stand up.” Obeying, I stand up on shaking legs and turn to face him. Legs spread, arms stretched out along the back of the couch, and a smirk on his face, Harry sits there eyeing me up and down. “Strip for me. Let me see what’s mine for today.”
I cross my arms, grabbing the hem of my t-shirt and pulling it over my head. His eyes move to my chest, taking in the matching red lace bra. Harry takes one arm off the back of the couch to adjust himself in his pants as he continues to take me in. “You know, it’s not fair that I’m half naked and you’re still completely clothed.” 
Harry clears his throat and reaches out to grab my hips to turn me around. “This isn't about me.” His fingers find the band on my underwear and my breath hitches when he starts to slowly pull them down. In the wake of the fabric, he kisses where it once laid. “So sit down on my lap.” Pulling on my hips, he sits my naked bottom half on his fully clothed lap.  “Spread your legs.” I hook a leg over each one of his thighs and lean back onto his chest. “And let me make you come, so I can fuck you how I want later.” 
The rings on his fingers are cold on my blazing skin. Touching over the expanse of my stomach, my hips, my thighs and briefly the tops of my breasts he teases me with everything I want while simultaneously avoiding the place I need him most. 
My pussy is soaked with my arousal, dripping down and probably landing on his trousers, but at this moment I can’t find it in myself to care. 
“Do you want me to just rub your clit and get you off that way, or do you want me fingers? Stretch you out a little bit so I fit nice and snug in you?” 
I tilt my head to the side to find him already looking at me. Our lips are so close I fainting feel his skin, but we both don’t make the move to lean in; to fuel the fire we both feel growing. “Want your fingers. Please.”  
Harry looks down at my lips for a brief second before turning his head away from me. Out of the corner of my eye I see him looking at my body that’s spread out for him and the lust in his eyes is unmistakable. 
I take advantage of his head facing forward and tuck my face in the crook of his neck. He smells even better this close up. His smell is sweet, reminding me of walking into a bakery while also being smokey, like a fresh campfire on a fall evening. 
I repeat his actions from early, gliding my nose across his neck. When his fingers finally touch my cunt I whimper into his skin. I accidentally bite into his neck from the shock of finally feeling him. “Hey. You can’t mark me yet, Em. Wait until later and you can leave your marks anywhere you want.” 
The tips of his fingers trace over my entrance, gathering up all the wetness caused by him. He drags them up and uses my arousal to start slowly drawing circles on my clit. Instead of biting him I kiss down the side of his neck to try and quiet my cries of pleasure. 
“Maybe I didn’t even need to warm you up. You were soaked before I even touched you.” 
In my desire induced haze I accidentally say, “I always get so wet for you.” My cheeks heat up with embarrassment and if I could bury myself into his neck anymore I would. 
“Oh?” His fingers speed up, making me squirm in his lap. “Are you telling me you’ve watched my videos while rubbing this little clit of yours? You’ve came from watching me fuck someone else. Is that what you’re telling me?” 
From the bulge pressing into my ass, it’s obvious this is turning him on. I let my embarrassment slip away and just let myself be in the moment with him. “Yes, Harry. I’ve always wanted to fuck you.” 
“Well, it’s my lucky day isn't it, baby?” He doesn’t warn me before filling my pussy with his fingers. Long, thick, and ring clad, his fingers work against my g-spot. Combined with the teasing and his relentless strokes on my clit, my stomach begins to tingle and the muscles in my cunt squeeze around his fingers. 
“God, Harry. I’m so fucking close.” His movements are slow and skillful, not needing to go fast and hard to make me reach my end. 
“You’re a sensitive little thing, aren’t you?” His fingers stop fucking me, but he presses his fingertips up into my g-spot and massages the spot that makes me see stars. Somehow he’s lifted the hood of my clit so he’s directly on my nerves. “Can’t wait to get you underneath me, so I can fuck you into the sheets. Spread your pussy out and take you just like I fucking want.” 
I throw my head back on his shoulder, needing some fresh air. My lungs can hardly keep up with my shallow breaths and I’m so dizzy I feel like I could pass out. “Please, Harry. I need to cum.” 
“You don’t have to ask me. Just let go, honey. Make a mess of me.” 
And so I do. I feel myself clench around his fingers and my ears start to ring. The sound of his voice telling me how good I am filters through the noise, but for the most part I can’t focus on anything except the pure bliss running through my veins. Harry kisses my cheek, as he coaxes me through my orgasm. “Good girl, Em.” 
I fully relax into his chest as I come down from the high. He slips his fingers out from me and puts them up to my mouth. “I would love nothing more than to taste you right now, but I want to make sure the first time I do it’s caught on camera.” 
Harry drags my come across my bottom lip before slipping his fingers into my mouth. He lets me take my time cleaning his fingers up and he keeps eye contact with me the whole time. 
“What do we do now?” I ask after his fingers leave my mouth. 
“You are gonna go get a snack, get your hair and makeup done, and get dressed.” He pinches my bare hip which makes me yelp, but he just smiles at me. “But you gotta get off my lap so you can do that.” 
It’s crazy to see him go from this sexy dominant male to someone who is also playful. It makes my heart beat faster in my chest when he looks at me with a smile. 
I climb off him and go to grab a tissue from his desk to clean off the mess between my thighs. “Nope. None of that.” He snatches the tissue from my hand and puts it in his pocket. 
“I can’t clean myself up?” I cross my arms over my chest and for a second I forget I’m just in my bra, but I’m reminded when Harry’s eyes travel down to my tits. 
“No.” He walks over to my underwear that were haphazardly discarded and kneels before me. Tapping on the side of my ankle, he silently tells me to raise my foot so he can dress me. “While you are getting ready I want you to think about how wet you are. I want you to feel your come on your thighs and think about what we are gonna do. How I’m gonna fuck you. How I’m gonna make you come again.” He kisses my hip bone before standing up, dragging the fabric along with it. Harry makes sure it’s in place and snaps the band against my skin. “I’ll see you later, honey.” 
Throughout getting my hair and makeup done I shift unfavorably in my seat. My underwear is absolutely ruined from my orgasm, but now it's slick with my want for Harry. I can’t stop thinking about what we are about to do. 
In front of me lies my ‘script’. There isn’t much in it other than some lines I need to say. The premise of the whole video is a couple waking up tangled in the sheets together after being away from each other for a while. 
I think about what I plan on doing to him as the girls around me talk amongst themselves. Usually I would partake in these conversations and make friends with them, but right now my brain can only focus on one thing. 
They curl my hair, fluff it out and apply some light makeup to my face. I didn't want any foundation on because it will just get smudged anyway and I don’t want to look sloppy, so all I have on is some mascara and a light lip gloss. 
A silk black robe is wrapped around my body with my skin bare underneath and matching black slippers are on my feet. It was awkard taking my clothes off in front of the wardrobe person, especially considering the poor excuse of fabric that was my underwear. 
 The air is cold in the hallway as I walk towards the studio room and I know everyone that passes me can see my nipples through my robe. 
The room that was once filled with maybe five people now houses twelve. It’s hard to walk in the room with how many bodies there are and I barely see Harry through the crowd. I protectively shield my chest away from prying eyes and lower my head. 
Harry has changed from earlier, now wearing a black fitted t-shirt that shows off his muscles and a pair of grey sweatpants. I can tell by the bulge in his pants that he isn’t wearing any underwear and the sight instantly makes my mouth water. 
He finds my eyes across the room and at first he smirks at me, taking in my skimpy robe and the exposed skin on my thighs. He must see the apprehension in my eyes because he looks around the room and shakes his head. “Anyone who doesn’t absolutely need to be in here needs to get out.” 
Disapproving sighs are heard around the room, but they don’t hesitate to listen to him. Harry is known for being a sweet and caring guy but I’ve also heard that he isn’t afraid to put his foot down when he needs to. 
He waits until all unnecessary personnel exit the room, being left with the camera man and the sound lady. “Are you ready?” Harry kneels on the opposite side of the bed and puts his hands on his hips. 
“More than ready.” I pull the blanket back, ready to slip under the covers and Harry does the same. “Do you usually wear that to bed?” I say referring to his outfit. 
“I could ask you the same.” He grabs the sting that keeps my robe closed and tugs on it, not hard enough to open it, but just enough to pull me closer to him. 
“No. I usually sleep naked. Shouldn’t we make this as natural as possible?” I wink at him and pull his hands so the string gets loose. The silk moves against my skin as the front opens, but I only allow Harry to see me. 
His eyes drink me in, looking at every exposed piece of skin I have to offer. “Are you trying to be the director now? Trying to steal my job are you?” 
“Maybe.” I shrug. “I bet I could do a better job.” 
Harry reaches into my robe, pinches my hip and says, “Get that robe off and get under the covers.” The dimples that I’ve come to love poke out as I do as he says. 
Harry walks over to the two other people in the room and says something inaudible as I get myself comfortable. He must have told them to leave, because after they check the equipment they both turn around and leave. I’m used to people seeing me naked now and I’m not ashamed of having sex in front of people. In all actuality it turns me on knowing that people are watching me and my partner, but we are only focused on each other. 
“You didn’t have to kick them out. This isn’t my first rodeo.” I lay my head up against the headboard and watch as he starts to take his shirt off. No matter how many times I see his bare chest I still swoon every time. This is my first time seeing it in person and I can't wait to leave little love marks on him like he said I could earlier. 
“I know. I didn’t want them in here.” 
“Why?” 
“Just didn’t want them to be in here.” He bends down to take his sweats off, only leaving him in his underwear, before climbing into bed with me. 
“Won’t it be hard without them in here?” 
Harry turns towards me and leans on his elbow. “Those cameras over there are already filming and there are mics around the room to pick up your pretty noises that men are gonna drool over, so no, it won’t be.” He pulls the blanket down to expose my breasts. Leaning forward he takes my nipple in his mouth and lightly swirls his tongue around it. “Just lay down, act like you are asleep, and then wake your loving boyfriend up so he can fuck you senseless, okay?” 
“Whatever you say, director.” He chuckles at me and lays down. I press my naked body up against his half naked form and he groans. 
“Should have thought the whole naked thing through. I already need to be inside of you, so let’s hurry up.” I laugh into his chest and pretend like I’m peacefully sleeping on his chest for a while. 
Under the sheets, I discreetly sneak my hand from his tummy to the tops of his boxers. Being the professional he is, he doesn’t make any noise or give any indication that I’m close to touching him. 
I feel guilty because he got me worked up already and I haven't given him anything in return, so I pretend to wake up and lovingly look over at him. To portray the act of being his girlfriend, I caress his face, push back his hair, and take in the way he looks while he’s relaxing. 
I know he isn’t asleep, but he looks so cute and peaceful laying here like this with me. Throwing back the covers, I expose myself to the camera and run my hand along the top of his boxers. Harry stirs a little bit, trying to look like he’s waking up, but he keeps his eyes closed. 
“I’ve missed you, baby.” I whisper to him while dragging his underwear down his narrow hips. His cock is half hard, laying against his stomach. I take him into my hand, and his warm skin feels so nice against mine. I position myself between his legs while working my hand up and down his shaft. “Wake up, Harry. You’ve been gone for too long. I need you.” 
Once he’s fully hard, I put his tip in my mouth lightly sucking on it while my left hand reaches down to grab his balls and squeeze them. A little moan escapes him and he moves around more as he ‘wakes up.’ I take him further into my mouth, letting him tap the back of my throat before coming back up to lick at his tip. 
I hunch over him more, so I’m on my knees as I blow him. I continue to bob up and down, letting him stay in my throat for longer periods of time. His hands sneak into my hair and pushes it away from my face so he can watch me. “You just have to have my cock in your mouth first thing in the morning don’t ya, honey?” 
His dick pops out of my mouth and I replace it with my hand. I lay my head on his thigh, batting my eyelashes up at him while I jerk his dick in my hand. “I’ve just missed you, didn’t you miss me?” I pout my lip out at him slightly, playing into the needy and horny girlfriend role. Honestly, I don't have to even act that part. My pussy is a mess and I know the camera behind me is picking up on just how wet I am. 
“Of course I did.” He grabs the side of my head and hovers me over his wet dick. “Now, put my cock back in your mouth so I can show you just how much I missed you.” I don’t know why he asked me because he doesn’t wait for me to lower my mouth on him all the way before he’s thrusting into my mouth. 
Harry controls my head, fucking my throat while he lays under me. His moans are sinful, and make my cunt even more slick. I run my hands up and down his thigh, stopping over the tiger and scratching at it with my nails. “Fuck.” He moans at the pain and fucks my throat even harder. “Am I not fucking your mouth hard enough? Huh? You wanted me to go even harder?” 
I pinch his hip, telling him it’s okay to keep going and he does. Harry’s hips come off the bed while he pulls my head down over and over again. Tears leak from my eyes from the pressure, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Throughout all my sexual experiences I don’t think any man has even been this vocal in bed with me. His voice is rough and raspy and his moans are deep and sultry. Every word he says drips off his tongue like honey. 
Harry suddenly pulls out of my mouth and forces my head to look up at him. “Get up here now. Need this little pussy in my tongue now, before I fuck you.” 
The thought of his mouth on me makes me squirm and I move fast at his words. I crawl over his body,  touching his chest and arms on my way up. “Can I get a kiss first, please?” 
“Don’t have to ask me, baby.” Harry grabs the back of my head and pulls me down to his warm lips. Kissing him feels exactly how I pictured. He’s soft but rough, fast but takes his time, and in control while making me feel like I hold the power. His tongue works against mine and I find myself loving the way he tastes. 
I pull back from his lips, knowing if I don’t stop we’ll  just kiss the entire time. If this was just for us, I would kiss him until my lips bruise and all the air evaporates from my lungs, but this isn’t just for us. Grabbing his cheeks, I open his mouth wide. “Stick your tongue out for me, baby. I need to make sure you’ll be wet enough to fuck my pussy with your tongue.” 
“Don’t think I’ll need it with how wet you get, but I’ll never pass up the opportunity.” Harry winks at me as I spit into his mouth. My mouth is sloppy from the kiss we shared and the way he was relentless fucking up into my mouth causing a string of I admire how it looks sitting on his tongue, ready to be used. 
Harry grabs my ass and pulls me until I’m straddling his head. He yanks my hips down, forcing me to fully sit on his face. His moan is unmistakable as he tastes me for the first time and I simultaneously moan at the feeling of his tongue on my clit. 
Grabbing onto his hair for stability and also rocking my hips against his tongue I utter, “Fuck, Harry.” My clit is so sensitive from my orgasm and I know it wouldn’t take me much to finish again. His tongue licks from my entrance to my clit where he sucks it into his mouth and shakes his head to stimulate it further. I sound like I just ran a marathon with how heavy I’m breathing, but I can’t even find the time to be embarrassed about it. 
It comes to a surprise to me when I feel his hand smack my ass once on each cheek, making my skin sting. Harry pulls away from my pussy just for a moment, “Can you not take me sucking on your little clit, baby? Does it feel too good?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just dives back into my cunt and sucks my clit into his mouth once again. As he shakes his head back and forth, his stubble on his cheeks rubs against the inside of my thigh creating a nice achy burn that I will feel tomorrow morning. 
When he smacks my ass again, I cry out and lean my head against the headboard. “Keep doing that, Harry. You’re gonna make me cum.”
“You like me smacking your ass that much, honey?” I nod my head and whimper. He does it again and I nearly come just from that. “You’re such a dirty little thing.” 
After a few more licks at my clit, I come all over his face and start shaking above him. My legs feel like jello and I don’t even know how I’m going to move from the position. “I could make you come on my face like that all fucking day, such a great thing to wake up to.” Harry realizes my weak legs and he runs his calloused hands over my hips and down my thighs. “You still want me to fuck you? Show you how much I’ve missed being deep in your little cunt?”  
“Yes. Please, I need you inside me.” Harry reaches up and wraps his hand around my throat. Before I can even comprehend the fact that his long fingers, that I came around earlier, are around my neck he pushes me off his chest and down to the bed beside him. 
Instinctively, my legs part for him and he gladly slides between them. His dick slides between my slick lips, tip lightly touching my still aching clit. “I can’t wait til I slip right into you.” Harry presses a light kiss to my lips, trailing them over to my cheek, across my jawline, and down my neck. As he goes further down, sucking light bruises into the skin of my breasts, he pinches my chin and turns my head until I’m watching us in the mirror. “But you gotta keep your eyes on me.” 
“But-” 
He climbs up my body, and whispers in my ear, “Listen to me, Em. Be a good girl and listen to me, okay?” 
“O-okay.” My body shivers, hearing him call me my name during sex is everything I didn’t think I needed, but now it’s all I want. Harry trails my body in kisses again and this time I keep my eyes on him in the mirror. He buries his face into my cleavage, licking, kissing, and sucking my skin, leaving his mark behind. His large hands take in both of my breasts when he starts giving my stomach the same attention. 
“Are you dripping yet for me? Do you think I could slip right in?” 
“I don’t know. I guess you could always find out.” I tease. Harry turns his head and looks at me in the mirror. He takes in the smirk on my face and shakes his head while biting his lip. 
“I love that mouth of yours,” Fingertips trace the outline of my lips, taunting me, “but I think I can find a different use for it.” Now fully hovering me, he grabs my hips and wraps my legs around his waist. “I want to hear those pretty little noises you make.” Sitting up on his knees, Harry holds my hip with one hand while lining his cock up to my entrance. “You think you can do that for me? Can you tell me how good I’m fucking you?” 
“Yes, Harry. Just please, fuck-” Before I finish my sentence, Harry is already pushing into me, stretching my pussy out just for him. We both moan out at the feeling, and my nails dig into his abs. Red angry marks are left over the ink of his butterfly tattoo and I wish I had the time to admire the marks I made. 
“Yeah, that’s good.” Harry finally sinks into me all the way and both of his hands are now gripping my hips with a fierce strength. “Mark me like that, baby. Mark me however you want.” 
When my nails dig into his biceps he hisses and starts fucking into my relentlessly. Harry thursts into me while also using his grip on me to fuck my cunt onto his cock. The sound of our skin slapping against each other and the pleasure we are giving each other fills the room. 
I find myself thankful that he kicked everyone out. Usually in these situations I find myself faking the moans, the pleasure, on my face, and the way my body is moving, but with him everything is natural. 
I look at us in the mirror, with Harry now hovering over me and whimpering my name over and over again in my ear. His back muscles bulge and claim my attention as he fucks into me, deep and slow. His pelvis stimulates my clit every time he pushes deeper in me and I reluctantly take my eyes off him to throw my head back in pleasure. 
“Takin’ me so good, Em.” He captures my lips in a kiss and our tongues clash. “I’m gonna need you again, but next time I want you all to myself.” Harry picks up in pace and I can barely hear him over the sound of my own moans. “Just for us, no one else.” 
“I-I think I like the sound of that.” I clench down around his dick that’s soaked in my arousal and I feel the ache in my  stomach, begging me for a release. 
“But you like getting fucked in front of people, don’t you? You like getting fucked like the slut that you are?” He’s so close to my ear that no one will be able to hear his words in the video, but I can and it’s making me drip past him and onto the bed sheets. 
If I answer him I know it would be loud, so all I do is nod. Harry slips out of me and I whimper at the empty feeling. It doesn’t last too long though, because Harry flips me around till I’m laying on my stomach and quickly fills me up again. 
“I wish I could fuck you in every position, but you feel too good squeezing me.” The tip of his dick massages directly into my g-spot with every thrust he gives me and I bite the pillow to subside my screams. “Nuh uh,” Harry wraps my hair around his hand and tugs my face to the side so I’m looking at the mirror.  “Need to see the pretty face as you come.” 
The grip on my hair is released and placed back on my hips to angle them upwards. I slip my hand between my legs and rub lazy circles into my clit. The small stimulation pushes me over the edge, and by the way Harry’s face scrunches up and the deep moans escaping him I know my own orgasm caused his. 
Breathlessly he falls forwards; forehead resting against the space between my shoulder blades. We stay like that for a while, catching our breaths and taking in each other. Harry kisses the skin of my back repeatedly as I sink into the sheets with him still inside me. 
“Well, Em. I think we made a good video.” 
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animeyanderelover · 1 month ago
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Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, manipulation, delusional mindset, threats, overprotective behavior, isolation, abduction
Tags: @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @hyakki-yosai @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59 @flaming-vulpix
S/o likes to tell stories of their childhood
Shaiapouf
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🎻Shaiapouf lives to cater to the needs of yours as long as they align with his own beliefs of what is right for you. He enjoys listening to your childhood stories as it symbolises to him that you trust him, something he craves to be given from you. It keeps him from using his Nen abilities to influence and manipulate your emotions to make you more docile and submissive, more susceptile to let him serve you and protect you the way he believes that you have to be protected. As someone who never has had a childhood as he has been the same emotionally and physically ever since he hatched he also shows an increased interest to find out what a normal human's childhood from your memories would look like. Whatever you may have hoped his reaction to be though, I guarantee you that Shaiapouf will only be feeling petty jealousy and theatrical horror. Every person who made you happy before his arrival is a victim of his poisoned envy and every accident of yours nearly gives him a heart attack as he feels the need to still see if you have suffered any injuries even if years should have passed. You will have to relive those experiences only in your memories though as Pouf would never allow you to do it again.
Kaneki Ken
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🔲​Kaneki's childhood has been marked with hardships all over and despite the selfishness of his obsession he still genuinely hopes that at least someone as wonderful as his darling never had to suffer even half as much as he did. Initially he latches on very eagerly when you start telling stories of your childhood as the act of telling him despite having abducted you something about your past soothes his already smothering insecurities. He's an individual that loves listening to you as it is. You do set him up cruelly though, only telling him the nice and funny stories that warm his heart only to pour icy cold water over him as soon as you start bringing up stories that aren't so happy. His heart races, his breath stops and panics floods through him as stories of your near-death-encounters bring him more horror than actual horror films. His paranoia definitely has him spiraling down to be more pushy as his presence starts to be more pushy. He's afraid that you may suffer from nightmares in your sleep or that you carry with you a mental burden that he will gladly take if he can. If some of your stories should involve nearly being eaten by a ghoul though it is going to be a shot right through his fragile mentality.
Aizen Sosuke
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🌫️​Aizen is a man who knows everything, a man who never enters a room without a plan and who never starts a conversation without a purpose. You're constantly torn apart between gnawing frustration and obvious terror as this man who you have never met seems to know more about your own mind than you do yourself. It's those previous experiences with the true depths of his knowledge that make you very reluctant initially to share your past with him as you suspect that he probably already knows. In fact he does but still he values the aspect of you engaging with him in conversations and other interactions as he would have no interest in you if you were nothing more than a quiet and motionless doll. Even if he outsmarts you all the time, Aizen does enjoy listening to you and he finds that though he knows most of those stories anyways it is much more entertaining to hear them from your lips. The ones that amuse him by far the most are the ones where you almost ended up risking your own life as it only solidifies you even more as someone fascinating as he wonders how fate could have possibly gotten you into many of the events you went through in your past.
Sesshomaru
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🐺​Sesshomaru ususally shows very little emotion on his face and when he does reveal them they are normally always either ones of annoyance or anger. That's why you are intially very hesitant as you share stories of your past, your eyes constantly on the yokai as you are worried that he may give you a disapproving glare or coldly demand you to stop. None of that happens though and despite his lack of any reaction that makes it look like he simply doesn't care you take it. Every night when he stops his journey to give Rin and you rest as he understands that humans need sleep to replenish their energy you like to tell stories at the bonfire with Rin often your only listener who appears to actively listen and be interested. It is only once you start bringing up stories of your past that at that time could have easily cost you your life that finally elicit a reaction out of him, sharp eyes suddenly looking up. He usually asks you once Jaken and Rin are asleep if those stories were really true as if not wanting to believe that the one human he fell in love with happens to be the one who appears to be unbelievably stupid and unlucky. Hopefully you're less of an idiot now. Otherwise he may have to keep a closer eye on you.
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cultofdixon · 5 months ago
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You just know sometimes
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • So much had to happen between Terminus and Alexandria…You in your situation being one of them • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Bruises / Scars / The Claimers & Cannibals Mentioned / Anxiety
Requested by: Anon
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You failed Daryl Dixon
You fucking failed and people have died because of it
All you were tasked to do was to keep them safe
But yet here you are…and where are they?
Fucking DEAD
Daryl snapped out of his half asleep haze with a small grunt of annoyance which caught Carol’s attention instantly. She didn’t say a word but gave him a concerned look as they were currently holding up camp in the woods after another failed attempt at staying in a neighborhood. If only the herd didn’t come through it.
It was really starting to feel like the nine months before the prison.
When the group returned to the main road, they heard someone or something running in the woods which they obvious drawn their weapons thinking a possible threat. Rick directed with his head for Daryl and Glenn to join him going into the trees to figure out what that could possibly be.
“Glenn you take the right, Daryl left, and I’ll go forward” Rick stated as they instantly acted on such.
They equally gotten far into the woods and Glenn came across nobody, but there was a blood trail that he followed until he ran into Rick. When both were now following the blood trail, Daryl was occupied by some walkers that after taking out the few he came across he noticed the blood that the others have caught on. But the trail stopped at a tree and there’s no foot prints either.
Daryl flinched when he felt acorns fall on his head resulting in him looking up to find a person, a woman holding onto the base of the tree for dear life as the branch she sat on barely supported her.
“Did you find—-“ Daryl held his hand up stopping Rick from saying anymore before pointing upward.
Rick gestured for Glenn to take another angle but she wasn’t much of a threat.
“I-I know you’re t-there. I don’t have anything”
“What makes you think we can trust—-“ Glenn stopped his question when her pack dropped to their feet. He knelt down looking further into it finding only a lighter and what looks like a shiv because she has no weapon. She probably had to get creative with walkers. Then the obvious. “Wait. Are you bit?!” He snapped instantly causing Rick to ready his gun again as Daryl elbowed him to stop.
“I would like not to be dropped on by a walker, Daryl. You can’t be too sure what happened until she makes herself—-“ Rick stopped when the woman they were talking about finally climbed down the tree.
No obvious bites
But very obvious injuries
“I’m not bitten. I’m…being chased” She stated and it didn’t take long for the four to be alerted by the commotion on the road. Which had Rick sprinting without a second thought given his kids were there.
When the leader returned to the rest of his family, he noticed they had taken care of it. There were three men. Two were taken care of and one had gotten away but not without something to show for it.
“They were asking if we’ve seen some woman, then it got a bit hairy as if we were trying to hide something from them” Abraham started.
“They threatened to hurt the kids. We were going to let them live obviously” Carol continued as she had been hovering around Judith and Carl just as much as Michonne has with Tyreese.
“The third got away. To be honest with you, he ain’t gonna make it very fair” Noah frowns gripping the strap to his weapon while looking into the direction they had come from as Rick grew anxious of another threat like the Claimers only a few of them came in contact with. Which brought into question if they should let the woman they found in with them.
Given her state and lack of weapons, she’s no threat to them besides whoever wants her dead.
“We have the woman. She’s in bad shape. No weapons but a makeshift knife that could only really take out a rotting corpse like a walker.” Rick stated waiting for any negative sign from the group that would tell him to not bring her in.
“How bad is she?” Maggie frowns growing worried before turning to the sound of footsteps finding Glenn stepping out with Daryl who helped the woman walk. “We’ll help her”
“Is that really a good idea bringing in more trouble?” Sasha questioned only for Maggie to now have an annoyed look.
“We all actively entered Terminus and practically brought ourselves more trouble. We have the upper hand with whoever these men are, they don’t stand a chance”
“Then we’ll take her in. For right now, we should make camp before it gets too dark to see where we are going” Carol added as she followed Maggie’s lead in approaching the woman to help her, noticing Daryl was glued to her suddenly when they went to help her.
Y/N is her name
Rosita forced Eugene to help her and Glenn make up the trigger line as Tara added the cans. The technique to warn them of walkers when they make up camp in open areas. Abraham took care of taking first watch after checking out their perimeter.
Daryl took the first aid kit from Maggie once she found it out of all their persons, to bring it to Y/N and help assess her injuries noticing a few of the cuts on her arms were deeper than he anticipated. None of them could do stitches in the conditions they were in. He had to manage with heavy bandaging and she let him patch her up but the second he was done, she instantly retracted into herself.
“He feels guilty”
Rick watched Carol sit beside him as they were watching the scene before them.
“What do you mean?”
“He feels guilty for Beth so he has this need to save her” Carol frowns watching Daryl take out his canteen handing it to Y/N who rejected it. Regardless of how hard he insisted. “Save everyone even if it means tearing himself down”
“Well, he’s got us. They both do”
During the night when most were asleep, Daryl took over watch for Abraham letting the man get some sleep. He noticed Y/N get up from her spot and started to move past the trigger line keeping herself quiet…that’s probably why she’s gone unnoticed at first until her escape became dire.
“Take watch” Daryl whispered to Glenn not giving him a second to respond as he was already on his leave. Maggie couldn’t help herself from stirring awake when her husband moved but she noticed the archer and couldn’t help but worry.
“Where are you going?”
Y/N stopped in her track giving him a deer in headlights kind of look, especially given the light from his flashlight shined in her eyes.
“I’m leaving” She relaxed turning away from the light as Daryl turned it off but quickly took a hold of her arm as gentle as he could. “Listen—-“
“I’m not going to listen to anything by the lines of “it’s to protect us” when we’ve all had our fair share of bullshit in this world”
“But Daryl—-“ silence was quickly met when another set of footsteps were heard, and not just one and no sound that determined a walker or frankly any of their own.
Daryl only had his knife as did Y/N. He went to reach for his but she halted him, letting the two listen for a while longer.
“That stupid bitch just had to go and get some help”
“They should’ve let her bleed to death”
“Useless pig” the third whispered but there were more to follow and Y/N gave Daryl a concerned look before suddenly booking it after she grabbed the flashlight in his hand.
A diversion is what she decided upon without telling anything to Daryl as he stood there in a bit of shock watching her fade into the night until the light of his flashlight turned on. Then the sudden shift of stealth approach those chasing her, turned into sprints and shouts. That quickly alerted the others while Daryl ran back to get his crossbow that Maggie already met him halfway on.
This was stupid Y/N thought as she ran and dodged as many trees as she could in the night. Even with a flashlight, she couldn’t help but bump into a few and that only drove the pain from her previous injuries to a higher level.
“She just ran?!”
“As a diversion one can assume” Rick sprinted after Daryl with Maggie and Carol on either side of him and Abraham, Rosita, and Michonne following shortly behind.
The trail ran dry, how it could it have run dry?
“Fucking hell!” One of the men shouted and with his anger brewing externally, he pushed one of the others onto his back. “That fucking slut just had to get loose”
The one on the floor slowly picks himself up but only for the third, who seemed to be the angriest out of them all.
“If you had tied the knots better, she would still be the squirming mess beneath me back home” the tone of his anger only made it clear that he was the leader of them all. He quickly dropped the guy when he heard footsteps as two others quickly stepped toward the sound to investigate, only for one of them to meet their end with an arrow through his eye. “Motherfuckers—-“
“If you wanna live” Which you won’t
“You’re going to want to stay right there” Rick stated after Daryl, with his gun raised as their family had their weapons drawn to the living three that were more empty-handed. “Where’s the woman? The one you are after”
“Like we are going to help you find—-“ the one on the left side of the leader dropped dead after Daryl shot another bolt. This action caused the other lesser to panic.
“S-She ran off. W-We don’t k-know where she—-“ he met his end from Maggie, who had enough of the absent of clear answers.
“I’m the last one here. If you’re smart, you wouldn’t kill me if you want to know where she is” Which he didn’t know. “She’s always been this much trouble. You’re only signing yourselves up for someone who leaves when we were only doing her a favor”
“The injuries she bears, have nothing to do with “doing her a favor”” Glenn frowns keeping his attention on the man like the others, until he felt something from above hit him. He kept his composure letting Rick take lead in talking while he looked up while the others were still focused on the man. Finding Y/N hiding in the trees but also moving herself to get above the man.
“What did you do to her?” Daryl knew from what he saw, but how it happened was still a mystery. “What did she do to you to have what happened to her, happen?”
“Asking a lot of questions. She got what she deserved and she still needs to pay for a lot of it”
Michonne gave a quick glance to Rick in a way of telling him to just end this man. But she was observant enough to hear the movement above resulting in her and Glenn grabbing the few in front (Daryl, Rick, and Maggie) to pull them back letting Y/N fall from the tree and on top of this guy.
The force causing him to collapse and Y/N instantly drove her knife into his neck. She rolled off the man leaving the knife in him as she felt hands on her resulting in a total body jerk away when it was just Daryl helping her. He didn’t help until she relaxed enough and while he helped her, Rick searched through their packs finding some food they desperately needed.
Maggie went through one of them and pulled out a few photos held together by a paper clip. Only to realize Y/N was in these photos and they weren’t what you think given she was taken by disgusting men. It was photos that originally were hers and they had taken everything of hers.
“These belong to you” Maggie said with a soft reassuring smile as she gave Y/N the photos resulting in a few tears spilling from her eyes in relief. “How’d you…even end up with these guys?”
Y/N held the photos in her hands finding one of her and her family resulting in more tears but she quickly wiped them away. “I was with my family and we got into trouble with someone? Even in the end, there are people with power and these guys were sent after us when we left…and they wanted to do certain things to me that only got my dad and brother killed trying to protect me.”
“Did they—-“
“No…I kept fighting back to a point they had enough and just” Y/N gestures to herself and her injuries which were being eyed the entire time given she’s opened a few bandages resulting in a few bleeding again.
“Let’s get back to the others…get some rest” Maggie gave a warm smile to her as they all made sure there were no more before making their way back.
Finally their group settles with no threat other than walkers…everyone slept except for Rick on watch, and Daryl and Y/N who were too awake in that moment. He helped her with new bandages but she couldn’t help but get a feeling from him.
“You…are a protective person aren’t you?”
“What?”
“When I stumbled into your group, you didn’t hesitate to invite me in and protect me from the harm that is no longer a threat”
“There will always be a threat. You’re just…a part of us now. We’re protective of each other”
Y/N couldn’t help but strike that cord.
“I would protect the next person needing to be saved if I lost someone dear to me” She didn’t need to know about Beth, all she needed to know was the feeling and that’s what she got from his.
His silence only gave her the answer. She reached out and took his hand squeezing it to reassure him even if she didn’t know how it happened, that it wasn’t his fault.
“I barely know yea, and vise versa…yet you know so much”
“I’m good at reading body language when I’m not in distress. It comes in handy”
“Hm. Well. Aside from that, get to know us without reading just body language”
“I will” Y/N smiles, giving a soft thank you when he finished the last bandage. Daryl rose to his feet going to relieve Rick of his watch but as he looked back at her, she kept a smile.
It will come in handy one day, knowing someone just from their body language.
Daryl sat on the porch railing one night with one of his homemade cigarettes in hand thinking too hard on something. His attention instantly snapping out of it when the front door opened letting Dog out but also for Y/N to step out and sit next to him.
“I don’t—-“
“I know, but I’m here” Y/N reassures every thought coursing in his mind with that smile of hers which brought him to wrap his arm around her shoulders bringing her close.
“You do just know things”
150 notes · View notes
asahicore · 1 year ago
Text
love calculator - pjh (m)
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this work contains smut - minors please do not interact
pairing. best friend!jihoon x fem!reader
synopsis. You were sure that Jihoon only took care of you so well because your brother had tasked him with looking after you when you started university, so you tried not to read too much into his actions until you couldn't deny your increasing sensitivity around your best friend anymore. What you didn't know was Jihoon was going crazy, finding ways to make his feelings for you more obvious than they already were.
genre. f2l, brother's friend, slight childhood friends action, college au, slow burn?, fluff, smut (mutual first time, they do it raw, dirty talking, very soft dom!jihoon)
warnings. jihoon is a menace, jihoon has a hot bod, junkyu is mean to everyone, mc is a bit slow, side romance but i dont actually ship idols i have a life, omegle, ok theres no actual stuff to be warned about its all good in there
word count. 28.2k dont ask me why or how idk either
a/n. there she is... i spent SO much time on her pls love it lots or i'll cry.. it was sm fun writing for jihoon omg i hope u love hoonyn as much as i do !!! @zreamy my dear sweet little zo ty for betareading this and freaking out over jihoon u rock
1K follower trope event - requested by @mosviqu, tysm for requesting and i really hope u enjoy it !!!! - listen to the playlist!
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Oddly enough, it was Jihoon’s biceps that first made you think something was wrong with you.
It was the fourth week of the spring semester, that odd in-between when you knew midterms were creeping up but were still far away enough to be ignored. This meant that you could party guilt-free.
The plan for tonight was to pregame at one of those huge uni dorms where ten students shared a kitchen then head to an overpriced club downtown that always had the best music on Friday nights. You didn’t have any classes on Fridays, so you’d headed to Jihoon’s place around four p.m. to get ready together. Usually, that was something you’d do with Minjeong, your roommate, but that weekend, she was away for an excursion with her Geography course. 
He was in the shower when you rang the doorbell, so his flatmate let you in, and you made yourself comfortable on his bed while waiting for him. You were so engrossed in the romance Webtoon you’d started that morning that at first, when he came in, you didn’t even look up from your phone. 
“Hey, Y/N,” he said casually, unfazed by your sudden appearance in his room. The soft smell of his body wash filled the room, and you noted with smugness that it was the one you had jokingly given him for Christmas after you’d gotten fed up with his strong, ever-present Axe scent. 
“Hey, Hoonie. You smell nice. For once.”
He chuckled. “It’s all thanks to you.”
“What would you do without me?” you said with a sigh, then looked up. You shouldn’t have. “Oh.”
The sight you were met with was unlike anything you’d ever seen in real life - Jihoon in all his post-shower half-naked glory, a simple white towel hanging low on his hips. Small beads of water fell from his hair and dripped down his chiseled chest and onto the plush carpet lining his bedroom.
You were pretty sure you’d seen at least five scenes like this in your romance comics.
“Oh?” he parroted.
You squinted your eyes at your friend before turning your attention back to your phone. “You’re naked.”
From the corner of your eye, you saw his grin widen. “I’m wearing a towel.”
“A towel isn’t clothes.” He turned around to rummage through his closet, and you took that opportunity to observe him more closely. This was the first time you saw your friend without a shirt, and you were trying your very hardest to not freak out, but it was a bit hard not to. Who would have known that under his baggy shirts and sweaters, Jihoon was hiding firm abs, broad shoulders, defined back muscles and protruding biceps?
His arms were what really got you, because you felt like you should have noticed them before. You’d already caught yourself staring a little bit too hard at the veins on his hands and forearms during a lecture before, so you could’ve conjectured that the upper part of his arms was well-defined as well. As mesmerizing as the shifting of his shoulder muscles was, what you really couldn’t look away from was the bump that formed his bicep. 
“Jihoon, have you always had… arms?”
You had barely even realized you’d said this out loud until Jihoon turned around, a confused look on his face. His lips drew into a smirk when he saw how fixed your gaze on his biceps was.
“No, they just grew recently. Thank you for noticing.”
“No, I mean… arms. Muscles.”
“Oh, these?” he said, flexing his arms and pecking his biceps in such a cheesy way that it snapped you out of your reverie and made you burst into laughter. “I started working on them last year so, yeah, they’ve been around a while.”
“Huh,” you said, then picked your phone up again and resumed your reading. “Well, you should work harder, ‘cause it’s the first time I noticed them.”
Jihoon scoffed. “Don’t act like you weren’t just drooling over my dream bod just seconds ago.”
You looked up, outraged. “I wasn’t drooling, I was observing. And don’t call it a dream bod, that’s gross.”
“My bod is a dream bod.”
“Stop it.”
“Can you look away from my dream bod for a sec? I need to put some pants on.”
“I’m already actively not looking. This dude is way hotter than you, by the way,” you said, waving your phone.
“Let me see him,” Jihoon said, heading towards you after successfully putting a shirt and sweatpants on. Gray sweatpants, you realized with a frown. He took your phone and looked back and forth between the character on the screen and you, an expression of disbelief on his face. “Y/N, this is a two-dimensional fictional character that exists in a fairyland. It hurts my feelings when you call him hotter than me.”
A lip grew on your lips. “Yes, but he has pointy ears and doesn’t refer to his body as a dream bod, so he’s a ten in my books.”
As you spoke, Jihoon lay down on his bed, stretching his arms behind his head and resting it on his palms, looking up at you with a grin. You didn’t know what to make of the sudden flip of your stomach.
“Will I be a ten in your books if I stop calling it a dream bod?”
You laughed. “Dream bod doesn’t even sound real anymore.”
“I don’t think it ever was, to be honest,” Jihoon replied, laughing along. “Or maybe they invented it for me.”
--
After that riveting discussion, you watched the show you’d been watching together (which, you had been surprised to find, Jihoon had the discipline to not watch ahead for), then finished getting ready. That night out hadn’t been particularly extraordinary. Pre-gaming had been fun and chaotic, but the line at the club had been so long that you’d all sobered up by the time you were inside and none of you felt compelled to pay for six dollar shots. At least the good music and nice DJ that took all of your requests made up for it.
The interesting bit happened on the bus ride back home.
By some miracle, Jihoon had run into some of his friendly course seniors that apparently liked him so much, they decided to pay for all of his drinks. Only an hour after getting into the club, he was nothing short of wasted. In your five months of being at university with him, you’d not once seen him in such a state - disheveled hair (from dancing too hard or from getting his hair ruffled like a cute dog by all of his seniors, you weren’t sure), deep red blush staining his cheeks, forehead, ears and neck, unfocused eyes and constant lopsided grin. When he almost tripped over his own feet during Gimme More by Britney Spears, you knew it was time to go home.
Jihoon was usually the one that had to deal with a drunk you, so you didn’t mind taking care of him this time. It was actually kind of fun, seeing this new side of the person who had become your closest friend in the past months. 
Luckily for you, a night bus ran directly from the downtown area you were in to the street you and Jihoon lived on, and you managed to lug him to the bus stop. Getting him onto the bus and into a seat was an arduous task, but you made it, and were enjoying a calm, uneventful ride home until you felt Jihoon’s head drop onto your shoulder. You thought he’d just fallen asleep, but then the unmistakable sound of his voice made itself known to your ears.
“Y/N, Y/N…” Jihoon murmured with a muffled voice, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You tried to ignore the prickly feeling down your spine when his lips moved against your skin.
“Yes, Hoonie?” you asked, a tilt of amusement to your voice. You really had never seen your friend so intoxicated.
He sighed, lifting his head from your shoulder and resting it against the window with a bang. He didn’t even wince at the impact of his head against the glass - the alcohol had apparently rid him of the sensation of pain.
“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled, voice so quiet you had to ask him to repeat himself. “I said don’t call me that!” 
You were taken aback by his sudden burst of irritation, but he sounded more like an upset child than anything.
“Call you what? Hoonie?”
“Yes.”
“Why? I’ve always called you that.” You tilted your head at him, but he kept his eyes fixed on the road outside.
“Exactly. You’re the only one who calls me that. Everyone else says Jihoon,” he said, annoyance clear in his voice. It sounded like this had been bothering him for a while, but it was complete news to you. “Can’t you even be bothered to say my full name, or something?”
You chuckled and brushed some hair out of his face. Like an angry cartoon character, he puffed air out of his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. His frown deepened and a blush spread over his face that was already red from the alcohol. “Should I call you Jihoon from now on?” you asked softly.
His reaction was immediate. He whipped around, almost knocking your head with his, a look of total alarm on his face. His eyes were almost teary. “No!” he exclaimed loudly, garnering glares from some of the other passengers in the bus who probably wanted some quiet this late at night. “No,” he repeated, this time more quietly, and turned back to the window.
In slight disbelief, you chuckled again. “What am I supposed to call you, then?”
“Just-” he started, but cut himself off with a sigh. “Just call me whatever.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “I’ll stick to Hoonie, then.” 
He groaned as he lifted his head from the window and let it fall back against your shoulder. The angle must’ve made it highly uncomfortable for his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind. He only stayed still for a few seconds before shifting slightly and burying his face in the dip between your shoulder and your neck once more, then let out a low hum of satisfaction. 
“You smell nice,” he mumbled. Your breath caught in your throat. He was too close, his lips were too soft and his breath was too warm against your skin. Your whole body felt hot, like the bus driver had suddenly cranked the heat up and turned the bus into a sauna. “Like almonds,” he added, pressing his nose deeper into the base of your neck and inhaling there.
You tried to laugh, hoping it would dissipate the tension in your body, but it only came out as a choked sound. “It’s my body lotion,” you explained, voice weaker than you’d intended.
“Hm.”
You didn’t know what it was about Jihoon’s proximity that made your head spin so - no one had ever made you feel this way, and the fact that your body was reacting so intensely to someone you had considered your best friend for the past months made it all the more confusing.
“Are you asleep?” you asked him in a small voice after he’d been silent for some minutes.
“Just sleepy,” he murmured, shifting in his seat again. You tried not to shiver at the tickling sensation of his hair against your neck.
A pause. “Jihoon?”
“Don’t call me that.” You smiled, but there was a slight whine to his voice that, for some reason, made your heart ache. 
You corrected yourself. “Hoon?”
“Mmh?”
“Why did it bother you that I call you Hoonie, all of a sudden?”
He took so long to answer that you almost thought he hadn’t heard you. “Because… every time you call me that, it makes me love you more,” he answered, voice getting gradually lower until it became a whisper.
Everything seemed to disappear around you. The other passengers, the seat underneath you, the blinking lights and the night sky outside the window. It was just you and Jihoon, his body warm next to yours and the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth.
“Makes you… love… me?” you echoed tentatively. 
But no answer came. When you bent your head down to look at Jihoon, it seemed like he had fallen completely asleep, mouth slightly agape and the blush of alcohol still red on his face. You didn’t know what to make of his words, but there was no point asking him about them now. So you let him sleep on your shoulder, only waking him once you were nearing his stop. 
--
Jihoon woke up the next morning with a pounding head and a bruised ego.
He had always prided himself in his ability to drink copious amounts of alcohol and yet only end up tipsy. Sure, it wasn’t exactly good for his body, but it meant that he never had to turn down a drink or watch on the sidelines as his friends did shots, and he could still get home just fine and not wake up with a head-splitting hangover the next day. Unlike you, who started giggling for no reason after one pint of beer and who tore it up on the dancefloor or talked to strangers like you’d been besties for years after two shots of tequila.
It only made his state of the previous night that much more embarrassing. He wished he had your amazing memory-erasing superpowers - but sadly, he didn’t, and what happened in the bus was glued to his brain. 
Before he could even lift his head or get a cup of water, his phone rang, the sound invading his ears and splitting his head in two. He slid a thumb across his phone to accept the video call and was greeted by a close-up of Junkyu’s smiling face.
“Rise and shine! I heard someone got their party on last night.”
Jihoon groaned loudly, chucking his phone somewhere on his bed so he didn’t have to see his friend’s face anymore. His was definitely not the face he wanted to see first thing in the morning. Unfortunately for Jihoon, Junkyu had been blessed with an extraordinarily loud voice that still rang clear even when the speakers of Jihoon’s phone were stifled by his blankets.
“Y/N sent me a video of you. You looked ridiculous, man.”
“I hate you. I hate your face, I hate the way you talk, I hate how mean you are to me-”
“I can’t hear you. What was that?”
With another groan and a lot of difficulty, Jihoon raised his upper body and retrieved his phone. “You suck.”
Junkyu’s smile widened. “Well, that’s all from me. Have a glass of water!” he said cheerily before hanging up. Jihoon had never wanted to kill someone so badly.
His murderous feelings softened when he turned his head to find a plastic bottle of water and a headache pill along with a handwritten note on his bedside table. Have this and text me when you wake up! with five hearts at the bottom. It wasn’t signed, but he knew it was from you.
When the two of you met up for brunch sometime later, he kept searching your face and reading into your actions for any sign that what he’d said last night had made you uncomfortable. He’d expected you to be awkward around him, but your attitude almost made him think he’d imagined the whole thing. You joked around with him as usual, as if he hadn’t practically confessed to you last night, and he was desperate to know what might be going through your mind.
Had you forgotten? Had you chalked it up to him being drunk and talking nonsense? Had he had just thought it very hard, and not actually said it out loud? Or, worst of all, had you heard it all and understood him and decided to just ignore it for the sake of your friendship?
Jihoon was going crazy. He could barely taste his chicken and waffles.
The truth was, you just had no idea what to make of his words, and you were scared bringing it up might make things awkward. Jihoon could have forgotten all about it, or he could have meant something entirely different from where your wild, romance-comic-filled imagination went. Save for his tired eyes and groggy voice, he was no different at breakfast than he usually was, so you dropped it.
--
“Okay, Y/N, I think it’s time for you to go home now.” 
Different Friday night, different party. A week had passed and neither of you had mentioned what Jihoon had said on the bus - it wasn’t quite out of your minds just yet, but you’d both separately decided to pretend nothing had happened.
This time, Jihoon had found you in the hallway playing beer pong and downing the cup of beer your opponent had thrown the ball into. Everybody cheered you on as you gulped the cheap liquid down before lifting the empty cup over your head, eyes screwed shut at the unpleasant bitterness in your mouth. Jihoon wasn’t sure why you were playing - you hated beer, and you had one of the worst throws he’d ever seen. But even he, who was supposed to look after you, couldn’t suppress a smile at your attempt and inevitable total fail at scoring a point for your team. Even with all the concentration in the world, the sheer amount of alcohol in your system would’ve made it impossible for you to make it.
Back against the wall and arms crossed over his chest, he watched amusedly as you squinted your eyes at the cups across the table from you, even sticking out your tongue as if that would make your aim any better. After a few tense seconds, you threw the ping-pong ball and hit Lee Jeno right in the chest. You’d giggled at your own failure, letting people pat you on the back for trying and reassure you that it’s okay (even though you really didn’t care) before stumbling right into Jihoon. 
As soon as you’d recognized your friend’s face, you’d thrown your arms around his neck and pulled him down into a hug as you yelled his name happily; his hands had come up to your hips and gently pushed your body away from his. Then, he’d said the words you always hated to hear at a party.
“But we just got here!” you cried, the same answer you always gave him when he wanted to leave. You started walking away from him and back into the kitchen for more alcohol. He sighed but was quick to follow you.
“We got here three hours ago. Plus we did pres at Yoshi’s place. You’ve had way more than enough to drink,” he said, snatching a cup you’d just filled with punch from your hands.
“I was gonna drink that!” you complained, leaning against the counter for support. 
Jihoon took in your swaying body and your dazed eyes and knew he had to get you home. Any more alcohol and you’d pass out in this stranger’s apartment. Usually, he’d let you drink to your heart’s content and just make sure you got home safe afterwards, but midterms were coming up, and you’d planned on studying the next day - he was just trying to minimize the severity of your hangover. 
You mustered your most pitiful expression - to drunk you, there was no way Jihoon could resist your pouty lips and sad eyes. “Do we really have to go?” you asked, and Jihoon had to read your lips because of the loud music. 
He smirked, seeing right through your little act. He bent his upper body so that his lips were right next to your ear. “You’ll thank me tomorrow,” he replied, making you drop your fake sad expression.
“I should go say bye to Minjeong and the others first.”
“I’ve already told them we were leaving.”
You rolled his eyes at him and his stupid smile and lifted yourself from the counter, immediately losing your balance. Maybe you had drunk too much. At least Jihoon was there to catch you and prevent you from falling. He tried to put his arm around your shoulder to support you but you stepped away from him and fixed him a pointed look.
“I can still walk, you know.”
Jihoon smiled but said nothing, gesturing at you to go on and walk. You turned around and started making your way out of the place, ignoring Jihoon’s snickers as you bumped into various party-goers and pieces of furniture.  
When you reached the front door, you decided that actually, no, you couldn’t walk. Sliding against the wall, you let yourself drop into a crouching position. Your head suddenly felt like it was twice its normal weight and you regretted those last few shots of whatever it was you had drunk.
Jihoon sighed as he lowered himself and grabbed you under your armpits to lift you up. He had never been more thankful for an elevator and a bus stop only a minute’s walk away from where you were. Standing under bright lights in a desert and quiet street, it appeared like an oasis to Jihoon. Whoever’s party this had been, they lived in a really calm part of town. At this time on a Friday night, Jihoon’s street would be teeming with drunk students deciding which bar or club they should head to next.
You had never been more thankful for a bus stop with seats. You plopped yourself down on one of them, resting your head on the glass behind you and tightening your jacket around your shoulders. You closed your eyes, deciding this was the perfect time for a nap. 
“Are you cold?” Jihoon asked, his voice keeping you from nodding off. You let out a non-committal hum in response which he wasn’t sure how to interpret. He chuckled and you heard a rustling sound before feeling an added weight on top of your body. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, then sat by your side.
Next thing you knew, Jihoon was making you stand again, and your feet moved of their own accord as he led you inside the bus. As soon as you were seated, you drifted back off to sleep. You jolted awake when your head drooped over, making you feel like you were falling. You sat up straight and looked around the empty bus, frantically asking Jihoon where you were.
“I’m taking you home,” he answered, laughter clear in his voice.
“Oh, okay,” you mumbled, and closed your eyes once more, falling back asleep in a matter of seconds. 
Jihoon watched with a tender smile as your mouth opened slightly and let soft snores escape it. Scooting closer to you, he placed his palm on your cheek and pulled your head towards his shoulder so it could rest there.
“Why do you drink so much if you can’t handle it?” he asked quietly, even though he knew you were already in dreamland.
--
When you opened your eyes the next morning, you felt like a kid who had fallen asleep in the car on the way home from a distant relative's wedding and mysteriously woken up in their bed. You stretched out your limbs, enjoying the softness and warmth of your sheets covering your body until a headache and pasty mouth hit you like a ton of bricks. It felt like the alcohol had made your brain shrivel inside of your skull - your whole body was screaming for water. 
Some kind of miracle had made a large glass of water appear on your bedside table, and you gulped it down in mere seconds. The hour on your phone read 10:24 a.m. - so much for getting up early and going to study at the library. 
You’d have rather stayed curled up under your blankets and slept the rest of your hangover off, but some rustling noises from the kitchen (and an intense need to pee) forced you out of the comfort of your bed. You stumbled into the kitchen to find Jihoon placing a pancake atop an already dangerously high stack. 
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he greeted you, glancing at you with a smirk on his face as you made your way towards him. You stood behind him and rested your forehead at the base of his neck, as if catching a few last seconds of sleep. 
The feeling of your hair against his skin sent shivers down his spine and he hoped his shaky intake of breath had gone unnoticed by you. His pancake was ready and he had to put it on the plate behind him, but as if a cat had fallen asleep in his lap, he couldn’t get himself to move. This was a moment he wanted to cherish - although you never particularly kept your distance from him, he was still always greedy for more of your touch.
“Hey, Hoonie,” you replied in a groggy voice. “Thank you for breakfast,” you said, moving to rest your lower back against the counter next to the stove. He missed you immediately. “And sorry for being a nuisance last night.”
Jihoon smiled at you as he turned to place the pancake on the stack. Then he leaned in slightly and you made sure not to breathe through your mouth so he wouldn’t smell your morning breath. 
“You always apologize, and yet who’s dragging you home every single weekend?” he asked with an amused grin that let you know he wasn’t actually bothered by it.
He turned back to his pan and ladled more batter into it, forming a perfectly circular pancake. “Sorry,” you repeated guiltily.
He shook his head. “I’d rather be there and make sure you get home safe. And it’s not like I don’t have fun at those parties.” 
A small smile on your lips, you nodded and let his words assuage your guilt. “I’ll make coffee as a token of my gratitude.”
“How kind of you,” Jihoon teased, beaming. 
No matter how many times Jihoon reassured you, you still felt bad that he thought it his obligation to do those things for you.
Although you’d only grown closer at the beginning of your first year of university, now six months ago, you and Jihoon had known each other since you were thirteen, and he fourteen. You still remembered his braces, wide boba eyes and round cheeks from your teenage years - when you saw him again five years later, you couldn’t deny your surprise at his much… manlier appearance. Sharper jaw, broader shoulders, taller figure, deeper voice - it was hard to recognize the Jihoon you’d known and the Jihoon in front of you as the same person.
His parents’ job made their family move around a lot - your town had been their fifth home since Jihoon’s birth already. The year and a half they stayed went by far too quickly, and before you knew it, you already had to say goodbye. Jihoon and Junkyu had grown really close in that year, and since you were always in your older brother’s business at that time, you’d developed a liking for your brother’s best friend, too. You liked the way he’d ruffle your hair whenever he came over to your house, the way he remembered strawberry milk was your favorite, and the way he’d wave at you in the school hallways, effectively making you cooler than all of your friends for knowing someone who was in the year above. At the time, you hadn’t known if what you felt for him could be described as a crush - all you knew was that for the rest of high school, you missed him. 
When you found out that he had not only come back to South Korea to study, but that he was attending the university of your dreams, you couldn't have been more excited. But you chalked it up to the relief of knowing someone in an otherwise unfamiliar place.
Jihoon had been even more welcoming than you’d expected. He had come to get you at the airport with a big, colorful Welcome Y/N banner, helped you move into your dorm and treated you to a meal the night you arrived in town. Over the following weeks, he’d introduced you to his friends, showed you around campus, and kept inviting you out “so you would know where the good spots were.”
Thanks to him, settling in had been a much less stressful and emotionally exhausting process than you’d expected. But no matter how grateful you were, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was going to these lengths to welcome you. 
Somewhere in the town center, there was a square that was extremely popular among skaters for a reason beyond your understanding. But at almost any time of the day and night, you could find people practicing their skating there. You’d just left a bar nearby with Minjeong, Jihoon and his friends, and to an intoxicated you, skating, something you had never attempted before, seemed like the thing to try out right then and there. You ran up to the first skater you found and asked him if he could show you how to ride.
Minjeong had run after you, finding a skater of her own while Jihoon’s friends either watched or talked about something else amongst themselves. Of course, the inevitable happened, and as soon as the skater let you try skating on your own, you’d fallen on your hands and knees. In a flash, Jihoon had been by your side, frantically asking if you were okay and making you show him your palms. They were only grazed, and one of your knees was bleeding very faintly, but Jihoon acted like you’d just broken something. He got you to get on his back so he could carry you to the nearest pharmacy, leaving his friends and Minjeong to wonder what the hell was going on. You tried telling him you were okay and could walk on your own just fine, but he wouldn’t listen. 
He’d sat you on the curb in front of the all-night pharmacy and asked you to wait as he got disinfectant and bandages. You watched his face closely as he rubbed medical alcohol on your wounds. A crease had plagued his eyebrows ever since you fell, and he would not stop mumbling something about you needing to be more careful and you’re lucky you didn’t get hurt badly.
You hadn’t realized you were crying until one of your tears fell on Jihoon’s hand, hot against his skin, and he looked up at you with worry, any of his previous frustration with you wiped from his expression.
“Y/N? Why are you crying?” he’d asked, voice soft, as if trying not to scare you.
You sniffled. “Why are you so nice to me?”
His eyes softened and a small smile grew on his lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to mirror his smile, and the more you cried, the sadder you felt. Inexplicably, your tears just fell and fell and fell. Under the bright white lights of the pharmacy, in the cold of a particularly chilly September night, Jihoon wrapped an arm around you and let you cry on his shoulder. He didn’t ask any further questions, just waited for you to calm down as he rubbed a hand up and down your back and whispered in your ear that it was okay.
When you thought back on it now, you knew that it had just been the alcohol making you unreasonably emotional - you weren’t actually sad about Jihoon looking after you, if anything, it made you happy. But once you’d started crying, you couldn’t stop.
“I’m just looking out for you,” he’d said once your sniffling had somewhat lessened. You’d leaned back to look at him. 
“But why?” you’d whined.
Your frown had deepened as his smile had widened. “Because we’re friends.”
“Is that it?” 
“Well, Junkyu also asked me to look after you,” he admitted sheepishly. 
You gasped in affront. “He what?!”
“Y/N-”
“So he’s been forcing you to do all of this?” you asked, voice breaking at the end. Your anger had lasted two seconds - you’d gone back to being sad at the thought of Jihoon only being nice to you because your stupid big brother had asked him to.
“No, no, it’s not like that, listen to me-”
“I can’t believe the two of you! I’m not a child-”
“Nobody said you were-”
“So you don’t actually even care-”
“I do!” Jihoon had exclaimed, louder than you’d expected, and it shut you up. “I do,” he repeated, voice softer. His hands were still on your upper arms, and he leaned in closer. “You’re his little sister. Of course he was worried about you leaving home. He just asked me to make sure you don’t get into too much trouble,” he explained, lightly tapping the tip of your nose with his finger. 
He sighed, smiling as he watched you try to keep an upset expression on your face. He took the bandages out of the pack he’d just bought and stuck them with caution on your wounds. “But I wouldn’t be doing all of this if I didn’t care, Y/N.” When your eyes met again, you hadn’t known what to make of the look in his. “I missed you, you know.”
Just like that, the ducts behind your eyes filled up again, and large, hot tears streamed down your face as you rested your forehead against Jihoon’s shoulders again. He chuckled at your dramatics but placed a reassuring hand against your hair. “I missed you, too,” you replied between broken sobs.
He’d texted his friends to take Minjeong with them and go on without the two of you, then carried you back to his apartment, which was thankfully only a five-minute walk away. 
Ever since that night, you and Jihoon had been inseparable. He continued checking on you consistently, bringing you food and coffee without you even asking and, of course, getting you home safe from nights out. 
You were thankful to have a friend like him.
“Pancakes?!” your flatmate exclaimed as soon as she walked through the door, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Hey, Minjeong,” you and Jihoon greeted in unison. 
She was wearing her clothes from last night and her hair was a mess, but she had a bright expression on her face (despite the faint mascara stains underneath her eyes). You narrowed your eyes at her but she made a beeline for the food, completely ignoring you.
“Hot,” she mumbled as she held a pancake between her fingers, but threw a piece in her mouth anyway. “You’re so lucky to have a boyfriend like him, Y/N,” she said around her food.
“Isn’t she?” Jihoon replied before you could say anything.
You rolled your eyes at the pair in front of you and poured a cup of coffee for Minjeong. She referred to Jihoon as your boyfriend so often that you didn’t bother to correct her anymore. “Not my boyfriend. And even so, he’s more like a bodyguard than anything.”
“Being a bodyguard is just one of the many duties of being a boyfriend,” Minjeong declared, easily ignoring you. “Don’t you agree, Jihoon?”
He nodded, a serious look on his face. “Absolutely. I take what I do very seriously.” When his eyes found yours, he shot you a wink. Your frown deepened. 
“Anyway, care to share why you’re coming home so late?”
A blush creeped on Minjeong’s cheeks. “Well, Yoshi’s place is quite a ways from here…” she murmured, looking down at her half-eaten pancake. 
“Called it!” you yelled, just as Jihoon let out a loud “no” of shock and defeat.
“Next takeaway is on you,” you told Jihoon with a proud smile. In a mature response, he stuck his tongue out at you.
Minjeong frowned at both of you. “You guys bet on this?” she asked, vexed. Jihoon exchanged a look, glanced back at her, and shrugged. “Not cool. I didn’t even know something would happen with him. How did you guess?”
You smiled. “You always go for the cute ones.”
She hummed in agreement, her expression almost a pained one. “He’s just the cutest little thing ever, I couldn’t help myself.” She took a sip of her coffee, cringing at the bitter taste before getting up to fetch sugar and milk.
You sighed at your friend. “You’re gonna break that poor boy’s heart.” You knew Minjeong wasn’t to blame for the boys that got attached to her when she made it clear she wasn’t looking for a relationship - but if it happened to Yoshi, you’d feel guilty. You’d met him in a tutorial for one of your Digital Media courses and he seemed like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’d invited you to do pres at his place, and you’d dragged Minjeong and Jihoon along, so they’d met through you. In a way, if Yoshi fell for Minjeong and got hurt, it’d be your fault.
“I told him I didn’t want anything serious,” she said, pouring as much milk as there was coffee in her mug.
“He doesn’t seem like the type to do casual stuff,” Jihoon chimed in as he placed the last pancake on top of the stack. But it was one pancake too many, and the whole stack fell over. Jihoon wasn’t rattled - he placed a few on his plate then rebuilt the stack.
Minjeong ate her last bite of pancake and got up from the stool. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“We? This is your problem, babe,” you said.
Minjeong smiled at you, eyes crinkling as she pressed a wet kiss to your cheek. You were sure there was some pancake left on her lips. “You’re such a good friend, Y/N,” she said, making you laugh. Of course you’d help Minjeong if she needed - but you were starting to feel bad for all the hearts she kept breaking. “I’m going back to bed,” she announced. Then, she put her hand next to her mouth as if telling you a secret, but spoke loud enough for Jihoon to hear anyway: “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, is all I’ll say.”
Jihoon choked on his food and you let out a groan of disgust, but you both burst into laughter anyway. “I want details later!” you called out.
“You won’t be disappointed,” she said between giggles as she closed her bedroom door behind her. 
Just then, your phone buzzed with an incoming video call, Junkyu’s face taking up your screen. “Hey, ugly face,” you greeted, propping your phone up against the milk bottle.
“Hey, stink.”
“Hey, Kyu!” Jihoon called out and took a seat close next to you - you knew he was just trying to squeeze into frame, but the sudden proximity still made your breath catch in your throat for a second.
Your brother’s eyes narrowed. “What are the two of you doing together on a Sunday morning?”
You looked at Jihoon, then back at your screen. “Is there something wrong with Sunday mornings?”
“Not inherently, no…” your brother conceded. “But still.”
You rolled your eyes at him and his meaningless suspiciousness. “We just went to a party together last night and he crashed here afterwards.”
“She was so wasted I had to bring her home. And I made pancakes this morning.”
“Y/N, if you don’t marry this guy, I will,” Junkyu said with all the seriousness in the world, and Jihoon made a kissy face at him.
“What’s up with everyone today?” you sighed. “I’m going to shower. You two have fun.” You knew your brother probably didn’t have much to tell you anyway - he liked calling you for no other reason than to bother you. 
“Oh, we will,” Jihoon said with a suggestive tone, and you made a vomiting noise before disappearing into the bathroom. 
“When I told you to look after her, I just meant to make sure she doesn’t drink too much or get involved with weirdos. I didn’t mean to make her pancakes on Sunday mornings,” Junkyu teased, a knowing smile on his face. 
Jihoon looked down at his place, a small smile growing on his lips as well. “I know, but I like doing those things for her.”
Junkyu let out an odd noise, half out of disgust and half out of annoyance. “I can’t believe you. Just ask her out, already.”
“So you don’t like me at her place on a Sunday morning, but you want me to ask her out?”
Junkyu rolled his eyes (Jihoon thought this was a family trait, at this point). “I’m trying to help you out here, buddy. I know she’s my little sister, but you’re also my best friend,” he started, ignoring Jihoon’s aww, “and I don’t know how much longer I can stand you being in love with her but not making a move.” He paused to sigh. “I know you’re a good guy, so you have my approval, or whatever.”
Jihoon smiled somewhat sadly, picking at his food with his fork. “I appreciate it, Kyu, but I really don’t think she feels the same way.”
“How do you know that? Have you asked her?” Junkyu asked, not even trying to hide his impatience.
“No, but-”
“Do I need to do it for you? Do you want to hide behind my back while I tell my little sister, hey, my friend here has something he wants to tell you? Hey, my friend thinks you’re pretty, do you want to talk to him? Are you a big baby who can’t do anything, Park Jihoon?”
“No, I just-”
“You know, if this were a k-drama and you were the main lead, everybody would get Second Lead Syndrome. Me included. You suck.”
“Supportive as ever, Kyu,” Jihoon said, sighing.
“If you don’t ask her, you’re a bitch. I’m hanging up now,” Junkyu said before Jihoon could get another word in. He just shook his head, chuckling as he dug into his pancakes again.
The two of them had had this conversation about a thousand times, and they always came to the same conclusion: Junkyu thought Jihoon should confess his feelings to you, and Jihoon dismissed the idea, knowing he’d never have the guts to do it. To him, making jokes about being your boyfriend and relentlessly flirting with you was sign enough of his affection for you - you just needed to figure out that he wasn’t actually kidding at all. He was already doing half of the work for you, really. 
An hour later, the two of you were sitting on the fifth floor of the library, where nobody ever dared to venture because of its dark corners and maze-like rows of bookshelves. It creeped Jihoon out, but it was your favorite place to study, so on days he couldn’t convince you to go to a nicer spot, he sucked it up and followed you to the table you liked by a window that overlooked the park next to the campus. The window let some light in, but to get there, you had to go through dim hallways that looked like they hadn’t seen a human soul in years. Jihoon didn’t know how you’d found out about it in the first place. It felt like something a fourth-year would keep as a secret, not something a first-year would have discovered in her first months of attending uni.
As he observed your sleeping figure, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed. You’d gotten about twenty minutes of work done before resting your head atop your crossed arms, claiming you would just take a “power nap.” He couldn’t believe you’d emotionally manipulated him (pouted up at him and gave him puppy eyes - with that look on your face, Jihoon would agree to murdering someone for you) into going to this creepy part of the library only to sleep almost immediately after getting there. 
He bent down onto his arms, mirroring your position, and let himself have this moment. Even though he saw you all the time, it wasn’t often that he could shamelessly stare at you and get away with it.
He watched as your shoulders rose and fell to the consistent rhythm of your breathing, as the sunlight pouring in from the window made your eyelashes cast shadows against your cheeks. You looked so peaceful that any trace of his irritation towards you vanished. It wasn’t like he could ever really be mad at you.
Jihoon loved how little you had changed in the years you’d been apart. Of course, you’d grown into your features and didn’t quite look like the thirteen-year-old version of you he’d known, but still, you had the same face and same habits he’d fallen in love with in the first place. 
He still remembered the way his heart had swelled when he’d found your face amongst the crowd at the airport, how his whole body had buzzed with excitement at the idea of finally seeing you again after all these years. When you’d received your admission email from your university, the first thing Junkyu had told Jihoon was that he’d better look after you. It wasn’t like he didn’t think you couldn’t handle yourself, but it reassured him, knowing someone he trusted so much would be there to help you adjust to university life, since he couldn’t do it himself. 
Jihoon had taken this seriously. Junkyu hadn’t given him any sort of instructions - the picking you up at the airport, introducing you to his friends, making sure you were well-fed and well-caffeinated, that was all him. At first, he tried convincing himself that he was doing this in an old friend, big brother fashion - he knew how close you and Junkyu were, so he fancied himself a sort of Junkyu 2.0 for you to rely on. 
It had been when he saw your red, puffy eyes, trembling lips and tear-stained cheeks that he realized his old feelings had resurfaced. After all, don’t they say you never really forget your first love?
Truth be told, that whole night had been a dead giveaway. From the moment you met up at the bar to his little nurse moment in front of the pharmacy, his heart had not stopped racing. He kept checking on you, making sure you were having fun and handling your alcohol, and stuck by your side the whole time, like a bee to a flower. 
He remembered standing arms crossed over his chest and observing you with narrowed eyes as you tried out skating. He was telling himself he was just watching in case you got hurt, but he couldn’t ignore the way his stomach twisted with a hot, unpleasant emotion as the skater guided you, hands on your waist. He didn’t like that you held that stranger by his shoulders, relying on him and not Jihoon for support, or that you laughed together like you’d been friends for years. Jihoon was your long-time friend, not this random long-haired, baggy-shirted, vans-wearing loser skater that probably had a name like Mark or something.
When you’d fallen from that skateboard, his heart had dropped in his stomach. He’d been sick with worry that you’d gotten badly hurt, and even upon seeing your barely-grazed palms and knees, he hadn’t been reassured. 
Seeing you cry had made him panic like crazy. He tried his best to comfort you, but had no idea whether he was doing a good job. For days after that night, he’d replayed the conversation the two of you had under the lights of the pharmacy. 
“Why are you so nice to me?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just looking out for you.”
“But why?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“Is that it?” 
Jihoon hadn’t known whether you meant, is that the only reason, or, are we only friends? But he’d thought the second question was wishful thinking on his part. So he told you about the promise he’d made to Junkyu, and that had somehow made you even more upset. Even though he hadn’t said it outright, he’d thought he had made it clear that he wasn’t only doing this because Junkyu had told him to - he also wanted to be there for you. He did care, more than he wanted to admit. 
Over time, his feelings for you had grown far bigger than simple teenage nostalgia - he loved your present self impossibly more than fourteen-year-old Jihoon had loved thirteen-year-old you. He thought he made it obvious - he always made sure to compliment you, remembered your coffee order and favorite dishes from your favorite restaurants, rushed to your side whenever you needed him, and did everything he could think of to support you. Sure, he relentlessly teased you as well, but that was just Jihoon.
If you noticed him, you didn’t show it. He wasn’t sure whether you genuinely didn’t know he wanted you as more than a friend or were playing dumb, but he knew you saw him as something like a second older brother. But Jihoon had come to terms with that - he’d rather be in your life as a friend than not at all.
This was why he was grateful for moments like these, when he could just look at you without you knowing. 
After five minutes, Jihoon quietly got up and bravely made his way through the dark hallways and back outside to get you a drink - in case you woke up grumpy from your nap, he knew a matcha latte would appease you. He almost got lost on his way back, but when he found your table again, you were still sleeping. He couldn’t help himself - before rousing you, he snapped a quick picture of your sleeping face, making sure to get the drool pooling at the corner of your lips in frame. The photo went into his Y/N folder, full of pictures and videos he’d both secretly and not-so-secretly taken of you, which, no, wasn’t creepy at all, thank you very much.
When he pressed one drink to your cheek and the other to your forehead, you woke up with a gasp, then immediately winced at the pain in the side of your neck from the uncomfortable sleeping position.
“I wasn’t sure whether you’d want a hot one or an iced one, so I just got both.”
“Ooh, iced, please,” you said. “Thanks, Hoonie.” But before you could grab the drink, he snatched it away.
“No drinking until you get at least one thing done,” he said, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
You frowned. “But the ice will melt and it’ll taste all watery.”
Jihoon didn’t want to give in so easily. 
“Hm?” you hummed, tilting your head at him.
Jihoon gave in, handing you your drink with a tut. Seeing your excited grin and hearing your sigh of contentment after taking a sip made it worth it. 
About two (surprisingly productive) hours later, your stomach started demanding nourishment, and who were you to deny it? Your hangover was strong that day, and even the pancakes and coffee hadn’t completely rid your mouth of its sour taste. You needed something salty and greasy, so you pitched going to the fried chicken place a few blocks down to Jihoon, who agreed immediately.
On the way there, you tried to recollect some moments from the party yesterday, but quickly realized that not much was coming to mind. Pre-drinks at Yoshi’s were clear in your head, and so was walking to the other party - but the better part of your memories after that were fuzzy or non-existent. 
“Hoonie?” you suddenly asked.
“Hm?”
“Did I do anything embarrassing last night?”
Jihoon chuckled. “Not more than usual.”
You groaned and pushed his shoulder, making him laugh even more. “I mean, you just kinda danced like crazy and talked to absolutely anyone. At some point you were gone for like twenty-five minutes, and I found you in the bathroom taking selfies with girls I’d never seen before in my life.”
You pulled out your phone and checked your gallery - indeed, there were about fifty pictures of you and some random girls. “Who are they?” you asked, more to yourself than to Jihoon, in disbelief at how comfortable last-night-you looked with these strangers. “They seem nice enough, I guess.” You laughed with Jihoon before sighing. “Well, that’s not too bad. I’ve done worse things.”
Jihoon made a face as if to say, Yeah, I know, and you rolled your eyes at him. You returned your gaze to the path in front of you, but if you’d kept on looking at Jihoon, you’d have noticed the smirk growing on his lips as a joke formed in his head. After some time, with a shit-eating grin on his face, he broke the silence. “Oh, well, there was also that moment when you confessed your undying love for me, tears streaming down your face, begging on your knees, all the works. That was pretty embarrassing. But I get it.”
It was so ridiculous that you couldn’t help yourself from laughing as you slapped his shoulder. “You wish,” you said between giggles.
I do wish, he immediately thought, but kept it to himself. He laughed instead and could only hope his real thoughts weren’t so obvious. 
--
Two things happened in the fried chicken shop restaurant.
Well, three, if you counted their promotion on their chicken rice cake coleslaw menu, which was your favorite and which Jihoon always chided you for ordering (“Anyone who likes coleslaw is not human”), but in the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t so important.
First, your mom called. Now, this wasn’t anything huge in itself, but it was Jihoon’s behavior that got to you.
You had gotten maybe five words before he snatched the phone from you and lifted it to his ear. “Hi, Mrs Kim!”
You heard a faint but enthusiastic “Hi, Jihoon!” on the other side of the line. They made small talk for a bit, and you couldn’t believe your mom could have forgotten about her only daughter so quickly. You’d dived back into your fried chicken, pretending you didn’t care about whatever it was they were talking so energetically about, until you heard your name on the other end.
Your and Jihoon’s eyes met. A mischievous smile spread across his lips and your gaze hardened. “Yes, well, you know her, she’s a bit of a nuisance, but I’m keeping her out of trouble and all that. I saved her from joining a cult the other day,” he said, and you rolled your eyes at him.
“Oh dear!” you heard your mother exclaim.
“You didn’t save me from anything, I knew what that woman was up to.”
You’d been waiting for Jihoon outside of the movie theater when an older woman approached you. She seemed friendly enough, and you thought she was just a lonely grandma in need of a nice discussion - which it was at first, until it veered towards religion. Next thing you knew, she was telling you stories about the upcoming end of the world and how we had to beg for salvation. You didn’t believe any of it, but you found it captivating, so you stood there listening to her and egging her on until Jihoon showed up and forced you out of there. You thought it’d have been funny if he’d listened along, but knowing Jihoon, a small part of him might have actually believed her and started freaking out.
“I didn’t know you and my mom were so chummy,” you said when the phone call was over. She hadn’t even asked to talk to you again.
“Your mom’s awesome. I can’t believe such a lovely woman gave birth to two gremlins like you and Junkyu. Are you sure you’re not adopted?”
It had seemed like nothing at the time, but when you played the scene over again in your mind that night as you lay in bed, the fact that Jihoon got along with your family filled your heart with an unexpected warmth. It was almost like he was part of the family himself - not in a third child way, but more in a if you brought him home to your family, he’d fit right in, a thought that had made you panic as soon as it’d appeared in your mind. Because why were you thinking of bringing Jihoon home? Why did it make you so happy, knowing he’d be welcomed with open arms?
You shook your head against your pillow, hoping it’d make those thoughts vanish. You reassured yourself by telling yourself that you’d be just as happy bringing a friend like Minjeong home, and that you were sure she’d get along just fine with your brothers and parents. 
The other sign had been much more straightforward. You weren’t afraid to eat messily in front of Jihoon, so some honey barbecue sauce had spread over the corner of your lips as you wolfed down one of the wings. As soon as Jihoon started to lean in across the table, you knew you were in trouble.
Not only did he wipe the sauce off your lips with his thumb, but he licked it off of his finger, never breaking eye contact throughout the whole ordeal. Your whole body tensed and you swear you stopped breathing for a second. 
It only really lasted maybe five seconds, but felt like hours to you. You glared at him for a bit before diving back into your chicken, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. But Jihoon and his stupid, proud smirk probably knew what he’d done to you. As if that wasn’t enough already, he even had the audacity to whisper cute under his breath. Your eyes snapped back up to his face, but he just smiled and nodded towards your food, telling you to keep eating. 
Over the next week, the word cute refused to leave your mind. You kept replaying that scene over and over - the feeling of Jihoon’s thumb on your lips, the sight of his own lips around his thumb, his gaze through it all. It wasn’t the first time such thoughts of Jihoon plagued you - once, he’d guided you through a crowded club with a hand on your lower back and the way the warmth of his hand against you had made you feel prompted you to ignore him for the rest of the night. Another time, he’d kissed you on the forehead after dropping you off at your apartment and you hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes for the following week. 
You took the small but meaningful events of that day as your second sign of your new odd feelings directed towards your best friend, feelings that you didn’t know how to name just yet.
--
Crazy rich Yoon Jaehyuk was having a pool party at his house, and basically everyone was invited. If you knew about the party, you could go - all Jaehyuk had to do was to tell maybe ten people and let them spread the word. As his partner for an English Linguistics class you had together that semester, you were one of those privileged people who’d known firsthand about the event and had made sure to tell everyone you knew to come. You shouldn’t have been so surprised to find what must’ve already been a hundred people on the front lawn, inside the house and around the pool when you showed up with Jihoon and the rest of your friends there.
Coincidentally, this was when the third sign occurred. Third time’s a charm, as they say, and the events of that night and those following cemented your growing hunch that something really was up.
Pre-drinks at yours and Minjeong’s place had already taken quite a toll on you. Jaehyuk lived at the edge of town, quite a ways from your flat, but the vodka cranberry you’d snuck in on the bus prevented you from sobering up during the long ride. When your group arrived at the party, both you and Minjeong were ready to dance. But before you could rush to wherever the dancefloor was, Jihoon caught you by the wrist, effectively stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes went from his fingers around your wrist to his smiling face, a surprised look on your own. 
“We’re gonna head directly to the pool. Don’t drink too much, okay?”
Your lips blossomed with a smile. Typical Jihoon. “Okay.”
The alcohol probably had something to do with it, but a surge of affection for your friend hit you and you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before taking Minjeong’s hand in yours and making a beeline in the direction of the music.
I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas was calling your name and you didn’t think to turn around to look at Jihoon, so you missed the way he watched your figure retreating into the mass of drunk students as he tried to commit the warmth of your lips against his cheek to memory.
You and Minjeong made your way to the center of the crowd, shrieking with drunken excitement when you found a group of girls from one of your shared classes there and exchanging very brief pleasantries before falling into the rhythm of one of your all-time favorite party songs. In your humble opinion, no one understood partying like The Black Eyed Peas did.
You only leave the dancefloor on one occasion, which is to take a round of vodka shots with your new best friends for the night - Jihoon had said not to drink too much, not not at all. One of the girls (Yunjin, you thought, but she showed up to class so seldom you weren’t sure) had a trick of pouring a lick of strawberry syrup before the alcohol, so that you wouldn’t be hit with the nail polish remover aftertaste of vodka. You were delighted to find it worked (almost) like magic.
It’s about an hour later when you and Minjeong reach the pool, not quite sober but more so than when you’d arrived at the party. For a pool party, there were definitely less people there than inside the house, maybe due to the fact that it was the end of February and most people didn’t want to risk getting hypothermia from the temperature difference between the heated pool and the cold outside. 
The relatively small number of people makes it easy to spot Jihoon, in nothing but his swimming trunks and a towel around his shoulders, sitting on a longchair a dozen or so meters away from you. Something about half-naked Jihoon, you’re not sure what, makes you want to walk over to him and do… you’re not sure what, but Minjeong frantically slapping your arm and whispering your name stops you from doing whatever it was you wanted to do. 
“Y/N! Y/N! Yoshi is right there,” she whisper-yelled. Indeed, Yoshi was in the pool, not far from where you stood, playing with his friends you recognized from pre-drinks at his place the other day. Minjeong’s face was redder than you’d ever seen it, and you recalled a conversation you’d had earlier that day.
“Will Yoshi be there?” Minjeong had asked, trying to sound innocent.
You’d looked at your flatmate with an incredulous look on your face. “Yes, he’ll be there, you slut. I thought you never went for a second time?”
She’d shrugged, an unusually shy smile playing on her lips as she looked down at her feet. “I don’t know, we’ll see.”
This was very unlike Minjeong - in your six months of knowing each other, it was the first time you ever saw her even consider getting with someone a second time. You didn’t know what sort of spell this Yoshi guy had cast on your friend, but it must’ve been very effective. 
“Go talk to him,” you simply said.
“What?! No way, I can’t- Oh my God, he’s looking at us,” she said, words rushing out of her mouth, “he’s looking right at us, isn’t he?”
You just laughed at your friend and waved at Yoshi who was already waddling towards your edge of the pool. “Hey, Yoshi!” you called excitedly. At the sound of your voice, Jihoon’s head snapped towards you. He wasted no time in yelling your name, motioning for you to come over, so you gestured back that you’d be there in a minute. 
“Hey, Y/N!” Yoshi called back with the same tone. “Hey, Minjeong,” he added, tone somewhat quiet, but the blush that grew on his cheeks told you you weren’t the one he was most happy to see. 
“Hey, Yoshi,” she said so quietly, you weren’t sure the boy could even hear her.
“Nice to see you guys here,” he said, talking to you but glancing nervously at Minjeong. 
“You too!” you replied, and before he could add anything, you placed a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “Well, I’m sure the two of you have a lot to talk about. See you later!”
You grinned innocently at Minjeong as she called your name, eyes wide in panic. She was a big girl, and Yoshi was clearly into her - she could handle herself. Jihoon eyed you amusedly as you made your way towards him.
“Are you setting them up?” he asked when you were within earshot of him.
“I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t at least try. I’ve never seen Minjeong blush over a guy, so this must be serious.”
A few of Jihoon’s friends were hanging out next to him, people that you knew from the many parties you attended together but that you rarely saw outside of drinking contexts. You waved at them before sitting on the deckchair next to Jihoon’s. He pivoted in his seat to face you, seemingly not minding that he’d just turned his back to his friends, then scooched his chair closer to yours so that your knees touched. You rested your palms next to your thighs and kept your gaze down. Something about Jihoon kept you from meeting his eyes, tonight. Maybe it was the half-nakedness.
Jihoon eyed you for a little bit, wondering what was making you so unusually quiet, before looking behind his shoulder to check whether Minjeong had been able to make progress on her own.
“Looks like it’s going well,” he assessed.
You followed his gaze to find Minjeong sitting at the edge of the pool and kicking her legs in the water while Yoshi stood next to her, water up to his belly button. You smiled as they giggled and splashed each other - it was going well, indeed. 
“Have you been in the pool yet?” you asked, shifting your gaze to the party-goers playing in the water. The echoes of people talking and water splashing were quite loud, but Jihoon was so close that you didn’t need to raise your voice too much. 
“No, I just took my shirt off for the hell of it.” 
You had meant to bring your eyes up to his face, you really had - but somewhere on the way, they stopped on his abs, and got stuck there. It was probably a full five seconds before you could look away from the well-defined muscles on his stomach and finally meet his eyes. He didn’t need to say anything - the smirk playing on his lips and the slight surprise in the raise of his brows were enough to tell you he had not missed your stare. 
You looked back to the pool, eyebrows slightly creased in shame at having been so obvious. Thankfully, you had brought a drink with you and took a swig of it there. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”
You were trying to ignore the way Jihoon’s eyes burned into the side of your face, the way they followed your every move, but with each passing second, you felt more conscious of them. Not unlike one would try to escape a wasp, you thought that going into the pool might tear Jihoon’s eyes away from you at least for a little bit. It’s not that his gaze made you uncomfortable, like that of a random old man in the street would, but it definitely made you feel… things. Things that you didn’t necessarily want to dive into. 
The problem was that, to go into the pool, you’d need to get into your swimsuit. You’d thought ahead and had come already clad into your bikini underneath your clothes, a black, strapless tube dress that was easy to take off so you could jump into the pool at any time. But getting rid of that dress right in front of Jihoon and his watchful eyes was more nerve-wracking than you’d imagined. 
You downed the rest of your cup for some liquid courage and shot up from your seat, releasing a deep breath as you did so. You thought it was better to just get it over with than make it last any longer than it needed to. Jihoon’s eyes glinted with amusement as they followed your every move.
“Let’s go back in.” 
Your plan had been to lift your dress off of your body and head straight to the pool, but Jihoon’s gaze made you freeze in place after stripping. You couldn’t quite describe it as lustful, or as hungry, because there was a hint of surprise there that softened it. It was like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and loving it at the same time, if the slowly growing smirk on his lips was anything to go by. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, a fire that made your knees turn to jelly and that rendered you close to breathless.
You let his curious eyes travel your body for a few seconds before clearing your throat. “Do you want a picture or something?” you asked ironically, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt.
His smirk only widened. “No need. The real thing is so much better.”
You tried not to cower under his shameless gaze, instead stood up straighter and stared right back at him. “My eyes are up here, you know.”
“I know,” he replied, but his eyes stayed trained on your body. You watched as they slowly made their way up your legs, took in your stomach and waist, then paused on your chest, which was quickly falling and rising with your shallow breathing. It was only when you scoffed and crossed your arms that he looked at your face.
Still that lopsided smirk on his lips, he stood up and languidly made his way towards you. He came so close that you had to slightly crane your neck to meet his gaze.
Your heart raced as he let a few seconds of silence stretch between the two of you, keeping his eyes locked in yours. “Nice eyes,” he murmured after a pause, the sudden depth of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
After six months of seeing him almost every day, one would think Jihoon’s flirty personality would not have such an effect on you anymore. And most of the time, it didn’t - even back in the day, he was already fond of teasing you, so usually, him telling you how pretty you looked, patting your head or him tucking stray strands of hairs behind your ear went somewhat unnoticed by you. Or at least, it was easier not to freak out over “small” things like these.
But this was one of the times when you thought he was really pushing it, and you lost the ability to even eye-roll, which was your usual defense against his flirting attacks. You hated to admit, but you just couldn’t pretend it didn’t have an effect on you. You hated it because you knew he was just flirting as a joke, not because he was actually interested or anything of the sort, and you felt stupid that it still did something to you - although you sometimes doubted whether he really was doing it just for fun. You wanted to think he was acting the way he was on purpose, to get a reaction out of you. It’d make you feel less of a fool.
Before you’d even had time to understand the meaning behind his words, he’d already walked away from you and to the pool. When your senses had come back and you spun around, he was already inside the water. He looked like a cute wet puppy with his hair sticking out all around his head, especially when he shook it and let droplets of water fall off his hair and splash around him, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man that had essentially called your tits nice just moments prior.
The raging butterflies in your stomach were your third sign.
You must’ve stared long, because after a while, your eyes met again, and a smile reappeared on his face. An actual smile, this time, not a smirk or anything of the sort. As if nothing had just happened - as if it was absolutely natural for your best friend to practically devour you with his eyes like that. 
He waved you over and you noticed Minjeong and Yoshi were with him, seemingly waiting for you as well. When you reached the edge of the pool, someone entered the room with a platter of shots of God knows what, and you immediately reached out for one and downed it. Sambuca, you realized with relief as the sweet liquid burned its way down your throat. That way, if your body kept buzzing the way it had been around Jihoon, you could blame it on the alcohol and nothing else.
Minjeong and Yoshi were already back in their new little world, but Jihoon watched with an amused grin as you measured the temperature of the water with a foot, then, deeming it warm enough, made your way towards your friends. There, the water reached up to your shoulders, and the fact that it got up to just a little bit under Jihoon’s chest only marked your height difference further, which shouldn’t have made you as flustered as it did.
“Didn’t I tell you not to drink too much before going into the water?” Jihoon asked, laughter clear in his voice.
“How about you let me drink as much as I want, and make sure I don’t drown?” you bit back, even though you knew it wasn’t much of a comeback. You had spoken in an irritated tone that, going by the way his smile softened, Jihoon found cute.
“Okay, I will,” he said, and the sweetness in his tone only served to further unnerve you.
If he noticed your annoyance, he didn’t say anything. 
You let yourself be convinced to play a game of chicken fight against Minjeong and Yoshi, which (along with that shot of Sambuca) made your competitive streak kick in and allowed you to, at least momentarily, forget about your irritation towards your friend. The reason behind that irritation was something you didn’t even want to think about.
Somehow, you endured the prickling on your skin as Jihoon kept your thighs tightly pressed around his shoulders with two big hands. Even when he squeezed the flesh there or craned his neck to look up at you with those big, round eyes of his, you managed to not let the way your stomach flipped get to your head. 
You weren’t sure how you won all three rounds of chicken fight, if it was thanks to Jihoon’s devotion to the gym, or yours to the free weekly Sunday morning pilates class your uni gym offers. It might’ve been down to the level of complicity you and Jihoon had built over the months that Yoshi and Minjeong hadn’t reached yet (if that can even be a factor in chicken fight success) - all you know, is that you do, and that even underwater, Jihoon’s hands burn as they snake their way around your waist, and press your body flush to his in a celebratory hug.
Some time later, you sit at the edge of the pool by yourself, having been deserted by the two lovebirds who not-so-sneakily snuck away under the pretext of getting some drinks, as well as by Jihoon who was called by some friends to join him back in the pool. You were at the level of tipsiness that made you want to self-introspectively sit on your own and people-watch for a little bit.
Until someone broke your peace.
“Hey, Y/N,” you heard a vaguely familiar voice say. Before you could respond, Kim Sunwoo was sitting next to you, a bit too close in your opinion for your level of acquaintance, clad in black swimming trunks that let the band of his Calvin Klein underwear peek through. 
He wasn’t half bad-looking, you decided in that instant.
“Oh, hi, Sunwoo,” you replied, smiling as you unquestioningly accepted the drink he offered you and thanked him for it. You peered at the orange liquid and decided it was the right color for alcohol before taking a sip. It being orange vodka didn’t come as much of a surprise. “I didn’t know you knew my name,” you admitted.
You recognized Sunwoo’s face from the Introduction to Literary Theory lecture you’d had last semester, and had learned his name when the lecture had to be online due to the professor falling ill, and he was one of the few brave students who had turned his camera on. With a face like his, you understood where the confidence came from.
Then, one night out on the town with Minjeong and other friends, you’d run into him at the counter of a bar, and had exchanged a few (flirty, if you recalled correctly) words, but not your names, hence the slight confusion.
He chuckled and you watched as two deep dimples appeared on his cheeks. “I did my research before coming here. Sadly, no one knew what kind of drink you liked, so I went for something basic and prayed.”
“This is perfect,” you said, laughing.
“To be perfectly honest,” he starts after a slight pause, “I’ve seen you around campus, and we even saw each other at a bar once, didn’t we?” he asks, and grins when you nod. “I felt stupid for never asking for your name, or your number. So when I saw you sitting here, I thought it must be fate that brought me to this party.”
You had barely registered his words, let alone formed any sort of response in your mind when Jihoon suddenly appeared in front of the two of you, placing a hand right next to your thigh on the pool edge. You hadn’t noticed him swimming your way.
“Hey, Sunwoo. I see you’ve met my girlfriend,” Jihoon blatantly lies as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The shock is apparent on Sunwoo’s face, and if it wasn’t for the sweet, convincing smile Jihoon was looking at you with, you might’ve let your surprise show more.
Sunwoo didn’t know Jihoon like you did, so you didn’t know whether he noticed the tightness in his grin, the challenge in his slightly raised eyebrows, or the general way he was holding himself that screamed Leave. But he must’ve noticed something, because it only took him a few seconds to start nodding slowly and rise from his seat.
For some reason, you stayed quiet, letting the word girlfriend and the way it had rolled off Jihoon’s tongue so easily repeat over and over again in your head. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he had said it so convincingly that you almost questioned whether you actually were Jihoon’s girlfriend. Before you could think any more about it, however, Sunwoo broke the increasingly tense silence.
“My bad, man, I didn’t know she was taken. I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he said with a smile, and that was that. 
You watched his retreating figure for a bit, eyebrows creased in confusion, before snapping your head towards Jihoon. Head tilted, he was fixing you with a questioning look, as if to ask, What are you up to?, when he was the one that had just acted strangely.
“What was that all about?” you asked.
Jihoon shrugged. “I chased him away for you. I’ve only heard bad stuff about that guy, like he sleeps with a new girl every weekend and doesn’t treat them right.”
You thought for a second, bottom lip slightly jutting out in concentration. “Well, couldn’t you have told me about his reputation then let me make the decision for myself?”
“I-” Jihoon started but stopped himself. He seemed to mull over your words for a bit, then sighed. “You’re right, I guess I could have, but you’ve been drinking, who knows if you would’ve made the right decision?”
This made you furrow your brows. “So what if I did? Getting drunk and going home with a rando is not unheard of, I would’ve been fine. Just maybe ashamed tomorrow morning.”
A flash of annoyance swept across Jihoon’s features, and your curiosity couldn’t help but be piqued. The two of you had had your fair share of aimless arguments over the months, but he’d never actually gotten cross with you. For some reason, you were suddenly itching to know what angry Jihoon was like.
“I wouldn’t be fine with it, though. I’d hate knowing that I let you go home with a prick like that.”
This wasn’t the first time Jihoon had fended off guys for you during a night out, but to his credit, they weren’t ever guys you wanted to talk to. And, well, admittedly, after learning what he was like, maybe you didn’t want to talk to Sunwoo either, but Jihoon’s protectiveness tonight was bothering you more than it ever had. 
You let a silence stretch between the two of you before speaking again. “You- you can’t just do that, you know,” you declared, not meeting his eyes.
“Do what?”
“Act like you just did. Pretending to be my boyfriend just to get a guy away from me.” Jihoon was just staring at you silently, so you felt compelled to add,  “You’re not actually my boyfriend, you know.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because his jaw locked and a coldness you had never seen before appeared in his eyes.
“Aren’t I basically?”
That caught you off guard. Where was this coming from? Jihoon had never entertained the idea of being your boyfriend, ever, so why was he suddenly acting like he was? Like he had always been?
And yet, you found yourself toying with the idea of dating Jihoon once more. The one question that pervaded your thoughts was, would things be so different? You’d never had a boyfriend, so you weren’t sure what they did, but you thought it wouldn’t be too far off from how Jihoon treated you now. Keep you safe, bring you food, buy you random keychains or pencils that reminded him of you, text you throughout the day, compliment you. The only difference would be…
Your eyes drifted down to his lips, and you swore you heard a shaky intake of breath coming from the man right in front of you.
The thought had barely crossed your mind that panic rose in your chest. You could not be thinking about kissing Jihoon. You couldn’t think about him being your boyfriend, either. You weren’t sure why, but your sudden heart palpitations at the mere idea told you that you just couldn’t.
“No, you’re not.” You had wanted to speak firmly, but you feared your voice had come out shakier than intended.
To your surprise, Jihoon scoffed. “So if I went off and started dating someone else, it wouldn’t bother you?” he asked in a disbelieving, almost mocking tone.
“No, it wouldn’t,” you answered, and as soon as the words were out, you knew they were a lie. You scrambled to your feet, suddenly wanting to be away from this conversation and the way it made you feel. “I’ll, um, I’ll head back inside.”
You ignored his call of your name and picked up your dress, hastily sliding it back on as you made your way back towards the living room where most of the action was. You quickly found that it was too loud, too hot, too packed in there. You headed back outside through another door that led to a part of the backyard far from the pool, where people sat in small groups around a big fire, either nursing a drink or passing round a joint, the smell of weed heavy in the air. At least it was quiet here.
You walked around some before spotting Jaehyuk, the man of the house himself, sitting on his lonesome on a swing bench in a dark corner of the garden, looking down despondently into a red solo cup. A couple hours into the party, this was the first time you saw him, you realized. It made you wonder how long he’d been sitting out here on his own.
“Hey, Jaehyuk,” you greeted, catching him by surprise. You took a seat next to him, sliding your hands underneath your thighs to keep them warm.
“Oh, hey, Y/N. Nice that you came.” He mustered a smile for you before taking a swig from his cup and cringing at the taste of what must’ve been alcohol.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” you asked softly. You were used to cheery, smiley Jaehyuk, and even though you weren’t very close, you couldn’t help but be saddened by seeing your friend in such a state.
Jaehyuk sighed deeply. “The girl I planned this party for isn’t here.”
“The girl you… planned… this party for?” you echoed, and he nodded. “You mean this,” you said, gesturing to the house and backyard full to the brim with people, “is all for one girl?”
He sighed and nodded again, taking another sip from his cup. He tutted at the drink, or maybe at himself for drinking it when he knew how awful it tasted. “I wanted an excuse to see her outside of class.” He chuckled. “I realize now that I might have gone slightly overboard.”
“Just a bit,” you laughed along, watching as a group of stoners cheered at their friend who had found marshmallows and sticks God-knows-where. “It’s not even midnight yet, she might still be coming.”
Jaehyuk shrugged. “I’ve stopped hoping. I think I just need to get into the party and forget about it for tonight.”
You smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”
“What about you, what made you escape out here? The music not to your liking?”
“Are you kidding? This is the Danish alternative pop playlist of my dreams,” you said, earning a chuckle from him. “No, I just…” You realized you didn’t even know how to talk about this. What was making you so upset?
“I got into a bit of a… squabble with my friend, if you will. He-”
“Oh, so it’s a he?” Jaehyuk cut in, a knowing smile on his face.
“No- I mean, yes, he is, but it’s not like that, it’s- it’s…”
“It’s?” he egged on.
“Ugh, fine, it might be like that,” you finally admitted, as much to Jaehyuk as to yourself. Your irritation made him laugh.
“It’s okay, it happens.”
“I didn’t think it would happen to me, though.”
“Why not?”
You sighed. “Just ‘cause… him and I, we’ve known each other for such a long time, it feels weird that things would start changing now.”
“How long have you known each other?”
“We met when we were thirteen and fourteen. Then he moved away and we only met again in September last semester.”
“Did you keep in touch?”
“Not so much. I just heard from him through my brother, they’re much closer.”
“So… what I’m hearing is, you’ve known each other a long time, but you’ve only really become friends since September, right?”
“Right,” you echoed dubitatively, wondering where Jaehyuk was going.
“Y/N, that’s just a bit over six months.”
“...So?”
“So, that’s not nearly as long as you make it out to be. It’s not like you’ve been best friends for years and things are suddenly changing. Six months… aren’t that short, I’ll give you that, but I think it’s a reasonable time for people to get closer as friends and then start developing feelings.”
“Feelings?” you immediately echoed, panic evident in your voice.
Jaehyuk let out something like a chuckle, looking at you like he was figuring out whether you were joking or not. “Is that not what this whole thing is about?”
You dropped your gaze down to your thighs, frowning. “Feelings just sound so serious…”
“They can be, but they don’t have to.” After a few seconds of silence, he noticed your upset expression and nudged your shoulder good-naturedly. “What’s worrying you so much?”
“It’s just confusing. I… It’s not like I’ve been totally indifferent towards him up ‘til now, but there’s something about him lately, especially tonight. It makes me actually wonder about… you know. Whether I want him as a friend or not.” You sighed. “And even if I am feeling… feelings, I don’t know how he sees me. I could still be a sort of little sister in his eyes, for all I know.”
“What makes you think that?”
A small smile grew on your lips as you blew air from your nose. “Junkyu - my older brother - tasked him with looking after me when he learned I was going to attend this university with him. So, while I go crazy trying to figure out why he acts the way he acts and why I feel the way I feel, he might just be keeping a promise to my brother.”
“But have you ever seen him as an older brother?”
“No,” you replied immediately. Your surety almost took you aback. “Jihoon is… Jihoon. He’s definitely not Junkyu.”
Jaehyuk smiled. “Then I don’t think he would see you as a little sister, either. The way you act with a sibling and with a friend, potentially someone you like, is very different. I don’t think there’d be room for question if he treated you as a younger sister, you’d just know. Most guys I know are very obvious when they like someone, me included, so if you’re thinking about this so much just because of the way he acts with you… well, you’re probably onto something.”
“You think?” 
“I do.” 
You and Jaehyuk stayed outside chatting for a few more minutes until you decided to go back inside for some warmth and a refill of your empty cups. In the kitchen, you ran into some of your classmates, so you joined in their animated discussion on which version of The Sims is better (Asahi offended everyone by saying the mobile app was the best) instead of going looking for Minjeong and Jihoon like you had intended to.
A few minutes later, as your phone buzzed with six consecutive texts from your roommate, you found out where both of them were. 
minjeong girl do u know how many bedrooms there are in this goddamn house??!!!! yoshi and i are spending the night here xxx ask jaehyuk if he has a room for u or get home w jihoon whos that girl he’s talkin to in the kitchen btw??? love yaa xxxxxoooo text me if u need anything!! i’ll be busy but i’ll keep my phone on ;)
Usually, you’d have rolled your eyes at the exorbitant amount of x’s and the cheesy winky face, but something else had got your attention. Suddenly stepping away mentally from the conversation (which had turned into an interrogation on Asahi’s suspected addiction to mobile games), you looked around the crowded kitchen until your eyes settled on your culprit.
From where you were, you only had a view of his side profile, just as Minjeong had said, Jihoon was talking to a girl, red solo cup in his hand and stupidly attractive smile on his lips. She was leaning against the wall while he stood in front of her, both looking as relaxed as if they had known each other for years. What was up with all that eye contact? What was making them smile so hard?
You hadn’t realized how hard you were staring until Jaehyuk’s voice broke through your thoughts, asking if you were okay. 
“You look like you want to kill someone,” Sumin joked, not knowing she was closer to the truth than she thought.
You tried to laugh it off, saying you were just deeply disturbed by Asahi’s predicament, but you couldn’t keep yourself from glancing back at Jihoon and the girl every thirty seconds. Another girl arrived, and Jihoon shifted to make room for her so that he was now directly facing you. Over the chatter of the kitchen and music booming from the speakers in the living room, you couldn’t hear anything they were saying, but it seemed like Girl #1 was introducing Jihoon to Girl #2, placing a palm on his bicep as she did so. You counted - that hand stayed there for four whole seconds, and when she finally took it off of him, your eyes drifted back to Jihoon’s face.
Jihoon, who was staring right at you. Jihoon, who raised his eyebrows at you as if to say, What about it? while yours were creased in - confusion, anger, you weren’t sure what, but an ugly feeling you weren’t accustomed to. Jihoon, who, you decided, had to know what he was doing, had to know how this was making you feel.
The only thing on your mind was getting out of here and taking Jihoon with you. Without thinking much, you fished your phone out of your sweater pocket, texted Jihoon Let’s go and said bye to your friends, lying that your friend had suddenly asked you to leave.
After a few minutes of waiting by yourself outside in the cold, crouching to maximize body warmth, you started to wonder if Jihoon had decided to not follow you. But when you felt a weight drop on your shoulders, you snapped your head up to find him smiling down at you. 
“Where did you get this?” you asked, meaning the blanket he had given you.
“I stole it from the living room.”
“Jihoon,” you scolded.
“You know the guy right? Just give it back to him this week,” he said, lowering himself down to your level. Similarly to your eye contact in the kitchen, you were still frowning while he kept on smiling. “Not like you to want to leave before one a.m.. Is something the matter?” he asked, and you debated whether he was faking his innocence or not.
For about ten seconds, you tried to stay quiet, not wanting to betray your feelings to him. You glared ahead of you, watching your breath form wisps in the late February night air. 
But then he called your name so softly, it undid all of your resolve. The sound of it made you sigh.
“Who was that you were talking to?” you finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“Hm? That was just Shuhua, she’s a Tawainese exchange student from one of my classes. Then she introduced me to her friend Yuqi.”
You nodded slowly, still not meeting Jihoon’s gaze. “I didn’t know there was a Taiwainese exchange student in one of your classes.”
“Y/N?” The unexpected seriousness with which he had called your name forced you to look at him.
“Hm.”
“I have something to tell you.” He must’ve noticed your sudden inability to speak, so he continued, lowering his head to be at eye-level with you. “There’s a Taiwainese exchange student in one of my classes.”
A smile broke through his serious facade and you had to look away to hide your own growing grin. “You’re stupid,” you said, but it only made Jihoon laugh.
“So is that what this is all about? A little bout of jealousy from my Y/N?”
You didn’t know what to focus on - the fact that he had finally put a name to what you were feeling or the face that he had called you his. It made you frown. “I wasn’t jealous,” you said, aware of how unbelievable you sounded.
“No? Then what made you want to leave so suddenly?”
“I- You-” you started, glaring at Jihoon when he snickered. “How come I can’t talk to guys but it’s okay for you to talk to girls?” 
“So you are jealous.”
“No, I just think you’re being unfair. I’m calling you out on your hypocrisy, Hoon. Double standards and all that.” 
Jihoon grinned. Had he known that he’d get such a reaction from you after talking to a friend that happened to be a girl, he’d have done it much earlier. And yet you had never had a problem with any of the girls in his usual friend group - if anything, the bunch of you often ganged up against him - so he wondered what was wrong with Shuhua in particular. Was it because you didn’t know her, and misunderstanding could arise?
His smile and eyes softened. No matter how adorable you looked to him right now, he wasn’t one to play games with feelings, his or yours. It was hard enough to make you realize how much he liked you (although he hoped that scene at the pool had made things more apparent), so he wasn’t going to make it even more confusing by letting you think he might like someone else.
Earlier, when he’d asked you if him dating someone else would bother you, and you’d answered no, he hadn’t formed any plan whatsoever to go off and talk to another girl right in front of you. Things just happened in his favor. He’d been talking with a whole group of people in the kitchen, but save for Jennifer, they’d all left for a game of spin the bottle (at their grown college age). Shuhua had a boyfriend back home and he had you, so they both had no interest for it. So it was just the two of them bonding over their love for Taylor Swift’s music when you appeared in the kitchen with Jaehyuk. 
Did he also feel a pang of jealousy seeing you with another guy, even though it was just Jaehyuk and he already knew of your friendship? Perhaps, but this wasn’t anything new with Jihoon. He didn’t think he’d be able to get rid of it until he had the surety that you were his, which had felt like a faraway goal until recently. Maybe it was due to his growing boldness or maybe you had managed to piece everything together yourself, but he was sure he’d felt a shift in your attitude towards him lately. There were times you would get shyer than usual, refusing to look him in the eyes; other times, like tonight, you’d defy him, as if trying to prove to both him and yourself you didn’t feel any sort of way towards him. But he hadn’t missed the way your eyes had drifted down to his lips and stayed there for a few seconds, hadn’t missed your panic when things seemed to get too real.
Just like you, although he didn’t know about that, he also found that there was something different about tonight, some tension between the two of you that was bound to explode. The fact that you were both in swimsuits had probably not helped. As soon as he’d seen you in your black tube dress, his imagination had started running wild. The way you casually had a gray zip sweatshirt of his in your room and donned it before leaving your place had made it harder to not just keep you in your apartment while the others went off to the party, and seeing you in your bikini was like the final boss he hadn’t been able to defeat. Keeping his eyes off of you was simply impossible. He wasn’t sure how he had resisted kissing you right then and there, showing everyone who the prettiest girl in the room - hell, at this party - belonged to.
(Jihoon had a bit of a possessive streak.)
Even now that you had somewhat made up, he still felt the changed air around you, like there was no going back from here. No pretending there were no unsaid feelings anymore - at least, that’s how he felt. If you needed the extra push to realize either his feelings, your own, or both, he didn’t mind initiating it. If anything, he had been waiting for it.
So he made sure to clear things up. “I didn’t want you to talk to Sunwoo because I knew he had bad intentions. Or at least selfish ones. Shuhua has a boyfriend, nothing was gonna happen there.”
“Oh, but if she didn’t, something would’ve?”
“No, Y/N. No,” Jihoon said firmly. 
“Why not? She’s pretty.” You knew you were being unreasonable at this point, arguing for the sake of arguing, but you couldn’t help yourself.
Jihoon sighed before placing a hand at the top of your head, brushing your hair gently. “I know someone who’s prettier.”
You turned your head slowly to look at him and were met with a sight you forever wanted to keep in your heart. Jihoon was looking down at you, eyes soft and filled with an emotion you wanted to describe as adoration, corners of his lips upturned into a sweet smile. You wanted to reach out and touch his cheek, feel the warmth of his skin under your palm and make sure he was real, but you were too stuck in his gaze to move.
“I actually know the prettiest girl in the world. I’m very lucky.”
You continued staring at each other for a few seconds or maybe a few hours, until he booped your nose and stood up. “Our Uber’s here, pretty girl.” 
You took his extended hand in yours and let him help you up, still in a daze as he opened the car door for you and rushed to the other side. You didn’t expect the relief you felt when he took your hand in his again as the Uber started driving. As the driver and him made minimal small talk, you watched out the window, but you couldn’t hear or see anything - you could only focus on Jihoon’s fingers intertwined with yours. Had hand-holding always felt so natural?
Even once you reached your apartment and you had to let go of it to get out of the car, the only thing you wanted was to have it again. 
You didn’t notice right away, as you punched in the code for the entrance to your apartment building, that Jihoon had stayed behind on the pavement. A light rain had started and his hair, all curled up from the pool, shone with small beads of water that the streetlights reflected on. 
“Aren’t you coming up?” you asked, turning around to face him and leaning against the door so it wouldn’t close.
“Not tonight,” he simply said, and you hesitated to ask him why. Whatever it was, he must have his reason, and you would see him again soon anyway, so you dropped it.
“Okay.” You nodded and hoped you didn’t sound as disappointed as you felt. 
You thought that would be it, but then he took a step closer to you, then another, until he was standing right in front of you. The doorstep made you taller so that your eyes were on a parallel with his lips, on which they naturally fell. No matter how confusing tonight might have been, if what you thought was about to happen actually did happen, you knew there was not a cell in your body that would resist it.
Jihoon leaned in closer and closer, until he was right there, and your lips would touch any second - but he leaned to the right, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips instead. You stood with bated breath as he leaned back, wearing a proud smirk. “Good to know you wouldn’t push me away if I tried to kiss you,” he said, but on this rare occasion, you were speechless. 
His smirk softened to a smile as he ruffled your hair. “Good night, Y/N.”
It wasn’t until he had reached the corner, turning around and waving at you to go into your building before disappearing that you snapped out of it and made your way to your apartment. As soon as you’d shut your front door behind you, you realized just how disappointed you felt that Jihoon hadn’t come up like he usually did, how much you missed the reassurance of having him there, even if the two of you were a room apart. 
You also realized you didn’t want any walls to separate you anymore.
And there you had it - the signs were too obvious to ignore anymore. The heart flutterings, the thoughts of him invading your mind day and night, the jealousy. The constant longing to be with him.
You were in love with Park Jihoon.
--
You fell into a deep sleep for about four hours, before waking up with a start.
You were in love with Park Jihoon.
What had seemed like a comforting thought at the time now freaked you out to no end. Park Jihoon was your best friend, your brother’s best friend, someone you’d met so long ago he’d known you during your embarrassing bangs phase of 2015 (BangGate, as your friends from home inappropriately liked to call it).
You were great as friends, sure, but how would you fare if things went further than that? There was no way for you to know other than by trying it firsthand. Did you want to take that leap, and risk falling face first - or chance falling right into his arms?
For some reassurance, you got your laptop out and went to Google. At first, you intended to search some YouTube videos or blog posts about successful best-friends-turned-lovers stories, but something deep inside your brain compelled you to type Omegle in the search bar. Even if it was five a.m. for you, it’d be a reasonable time of the day for people with good relationship advice somewhere, right?
In your interests, you typed love, relationship and advice, hoping this would lead you to your savior. After skipping a few naked men who apparently were into love too, two young girls appeared on your screen who, going off of their accent, were British. They looked about eleven and were doing their nails, not paying attention to their screen. NewJeans was playing in the background.
They were perfect.
“Hey, girls!” you said, cringing at the sound of your own voice.
They raised their heads in unison, looking at you for a second before coming closer to the screen, all wide smiles. One of them had braces with pink elastics. “Hey, girl!”
You decided you had no time to lose, so you directly told them you needed advice with a boy you liked. They nodded vigorously. So you told them everything - from how you and Jihoon had met, to reconnecting in September, to the events of the past few months (including a detailed rundown of what happened at the pool, which they loved). They even insisted on seeing a picture and squealed when you showed them. Your Jihoon really was handsome.
“So? What do you think I should do?” you asked when you were done recounting everything.
“I have this thing I do whenever I fancy someone,” the girl on the right started, while the other one munched on some sour candy. You nodded for her to continue. “It really helps me know if I should keep fancying them or if they’re not worth it. It’s called a compibi- compa- combali- Rosie, what was it again?”
“A compatibility test,” Rosie said, tongue blue from her candy.
“Right, that. It works like magic. Just the other week I thought for sure Leo was the cutest boy in school but then I did the test thing and got forty percent with him and a few days later he was dating Sarah anyway.”
“Sarah is terrible,” Rosie chipped in.
“Oh no!” you exclaimed.
“Yeah, really bad,” the other girl said, nodding. “But then, I did it with Martin and got eighty-six percent and we’ve been dating for ten days now, we have,” she finished proudly.
“That’s amazing.” You didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep or the conviction with which the girl spoke, but you were hooked. “How do I do it?” you asked, although you’d probably done it when you were their age too.
“Oh, it’s easy. You just type the comp- Rosie?”
“Compatibility.”
“That, test on Google and click any one of them and type in your name then his. Any of them will do, I’m sure,” she shrugged, reaching for a candy. 
“Okay, let me do it right now. Gimme a sec.” After a few clicks, you’d reached an early 2010s-style website called lovecalculator.com, all pink and cupids shooting their arrows into the sky. You typed in your name, then Jihoon’s, then pressed a shaky finger to the Enter bar.
“Oh my gosh!” you squealed. “We got ninety-nine percent!”
“Oh my gosh!” the girls yelped back, clapping and hugging each other in celebration.
“Girl, you need to go tell him right now,” non-Rosie said firmly.
“Right now,” Rosie echoed.
You pouted. “I can’t, it’s five a.m. right now.”
“You better go later then! You two are meant to be! You’ll last at least like, a month or two.” 
“At least.”
After thanking and saying good-bye to your new best friends, you spent a good three minutes staring at the big 99% in bright pink on your screen. This randomly generated number made you so happy that you took a screenshot and printed it out on Minjeong’s printer in the living room, then put it on your fridge for you to admire. You used a magnet Jihoon had gifted you for Christmas - it was a four-cut photobooth picture of you two you’d taken at the Christmas market. You thought you’d only taken the paper version, but he’d made you go get food for the both of you while he bought the magnet version as well.
Your mind at ease, you started heading back to your room, but you ran into someone right as you walked out of the kitchen.
You looked him up and down. Yoshinori was standing in your living room half-naked, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 
“H-hey, Y/N,” he said, breaking the silence first. “I’m sorry, I thought you were sleeping…”
“I woke up early,” you replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling at his awkwardness. “What are you doing?”
“Just, um, just getting some water.”
“And you have to come to my apartment to do that?”
“No, I, um- Someone called the cops, so Jaehyuk kicked all of us out.”
“I thought you were in a room somewhere?”
“Yeah, but we went outside to see what was happening, and he saw us, so we had to leave.”
“Right… Well, glad you made it back home safe.” The strangeness of the situation suddenly hit you, and you realized you should probably let the half-naked man get his glass of water and leave. “I’ll go back to my room, then.”
“Oh, right, see you, Y/N. And sorry.”
“No worries!” you said, waving his apology off and scurried off to your bedroom. You plopped into your bed with a satisfied sigh, hugging a plushie Jihoon had won for you at an arcade close to your chest. He really was everywhere.
When you woke up next, sunlight was pouring from the window into your room. You checked your phone - nine a.m.. Not early enough to go to late sleeper Jihoon’s place, but definitely early enough to call your probably still sleeping brother. You had to tell someone about your newfound revelation, and Minjeong next door was either asleep or busy.
Your phone rang with an outgoing call for so long that you thought Junkyu might simply not pick up. “I’m in love with Jihoon,” you blurted out as soon as your brother’s face appeared on screen. 
He paused for a second, taking your words in, then yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Good morning to you too, Y/N.”
“I’m in love with Jihoon,” you repeated, more insistently.
“I heard you the first time.”
“Well, what do you think?!” you asked, impatience rising. You couldn’t believe your brother could be sarcastic in an emergency like this.
Junkyu frowned. “Uh, congratulations?”
You tutted. “Kyu, I’m serious about this!”
“I know, I can tell,” he said, chuckling. “Are you going to tell him?”
“I think I have to. I think… I think he feels the same way about me, actually.”
Junkyu rolled his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock.”
You paused. “Huh?”
“Everyone and their mom knows he’s in love with you, we were just all waiting for you to see it.”
“Huh?!” Junkyu shrugged. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Your brother sighed. “Some things in life, you have to figure out on your own, sis. Like taxes.” You just frowned at him. “Well, how did you figure it out?”
“Now that you say it, I guess I should’ve noticed it earlier. But really what happened is I saw him talking to a girl.”
“Put the man in jail!”
“Shut up. And then we talked for a bit, and he didn’t outright say it, but he heavily implied that he… liked me.”
Junkyu scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”
You ignored your brother. “But I don’t know if I should wait for a bit or go tell him now-”
“Y/N. Please, put that man out of his misery and go tell him now.”
“Don’t you think he’d get upset if I confessed first? You know Jihoon, he gets proud about random things like that.”
“Believe me, he won’t care. He’ll just be happy you like him back after all this time.”
You thought for a second, a small smile blooming on your lips. “Does he really like me that much?”
Junkyu sighed. “He’s been harping on about you since we were fourteen. He probably keeps a diary or a boyblog where he just writes about you. Just go get him, girl.”
Your smile grew wider and your heart started beating faster, excitement growing in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jihoon again. “Okay, I will.” You and your brother stared at each other for a second, eyes wide in anticipation, until something struck you.
“Wait… You don’t mind, do you? Your sister and best friend dating?”
“I l-word both of you, so no, I don’t mind. I trust you both enough to not hurt each other. But I’m still your brother, so if that prick does anything to hurt you, I’ll kick his ass, okay?”
“Kyu, he bench-presses your weight as a joke.”
He squinted his eyes at you. “I’ll metaphorically kick his ass, then.”
“And what if I hurt him?”
Junkyu thought for a second. “I’ll… give you the silent treatment for a few days.”
“How scary,” you laughed.
“Anyways, congratulations in advance and all that, but for my mental health please pretend you’re not a couple in front of me and remember that premarital sex is a sin.”
“Will do! Bye, Kyu!”
--
Right after hanging up with your brother, you texted Jihoon, asking if you could come over. You quickly got ready, doing affirmations in the mirror to calm yourself down, and as soon as your phone pinged with Jihoon’s answer (miss me already?), you were out the door. It was usually a thirteen-minute walk between your and Jihoon’s place, but with the power of love, it only took you eight.
You felt like your body had gone on autopilot - instead of practicing over and over what you would say to him in your head, imagining all the terrible ways it could go or pacing back and forth in front of his apartment building, you just walked, the loud thumping of your heart in your ears drowning everything else out. You’d just get there and get it over with. 
Even when you had to wait for seven seconds (you counted) for Jihoon to open the door after you’d rung the doorbell, you didn’t start panicking. 
“Hey, Y/N, I just ordered some-”
“I love you.”
“Breakfast… You what?”
“I love you, Hoonie,” you beamed. The relief of letting those words free made tears pool in the corner of your eyes.
Jihoon just stared at you, mouth agape and expression like he couldn’t believe what was hearing. Reaching for your hand, he brought you closer to him and shut the door behind you, eyes never once leaving yours. Then, he pulled you into a hug, one so tight you’d be worried about your blood circulation being cut off if it wasn’t Jihoon’s arms you were in. 
“Can you say it again, please?” he asked, nose buried in your hair and voice weak like you’d never heard it before.
You tightened your hold around his waist. “I love you,” you whispered.
“Again?”
“I love you,” you repeated, giggling.
He laughed too, more out of relief than anything. “I love you, too.”
He leaned back and raised his hands to gently cup your face in his palms. The both of you were smiling like idiots from ear to ear, gazing into each other’s eyes. Tears streamed down your cheek and he wiped them away with a thumb before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Took you long enough,” he said, making you laugh again.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Jihoon shook his head. “Don’t be. You have no idea how happy I am right now.”
“I’m happy for you guys and all, but could you like, not do this here?” a voice interrupted you. You looked behind Jihoon’s shoulder to find Hyunsuk, one of his roommates, on the living room sofa, watching Brooklyn 99. You hadn’t even noticed him. In his defense, you were declaring your love for each other right next to him in the entrance hallway. 
“Oh, right, sorry, Suk. Let’s go into my room,” he said, tugging at your hand. 
The both of you burst into giggles as soon as the door shut behind you. Jihoon wasted no time in pulling you into another hug, and it felt like your whole body sighed as you let his warmth engulf you. You cursed yourself for not letting yourself have this earlier. You gently rocked from side to side together, as if slow dancing to a melody only the two of you could hear.
“I guess a little jealousy goes a long way, huh?” Jihoon said after a minute of silence.
“I wasn’t jealous,” you huffed, leaning back so he could see your frown.
“What made you realize your undying love for me, then?”
“I just… I thought we’d be good together. I realized how compatible we are, if you will.”
“Our compatibility? Did you only notice it last night?”
You grinned. “Guess I did,” you answered, just to tease him. Jihoon did not need to know about your love calculator epiphany.
He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky. You felt shy under his gaze, but you couldn’t get yourself to look away. “So does that mean we’re… boyfriend and girlfriend now?” he asked, making you burst into laughter. “Don’t make fun of me! It’s important to make things clear,” he complained between giggles.
“Yes, let’s be boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Awesome,” he replied, then pursed his lips as if debating to say what he wanted to say next. “So, now that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend…”
“Yes, Hoon?”
“Does that mean I can kiss you?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips that you mirrored.
“Please,” you whispered.
So he did.
When his lips touched yours, it was like a flower that had been waiting for the right moment finally bloomed inside your chest. It felt soft, and comforting, and just right. Like your lips had always meant to meet. 
At least, it started out that way. The fabric of Jihoon’s t-shirt bunched up in your hands while his cupped your face tenderly, your lips moving in a slow cadence against each other’s as if you had all the time in the world - and you did. You were both so filled to the brim with excitement that when you pulled away for a breather, you laughed together, foreheads resting against each other.
But then, you raised your hands and threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging on it gently as you deepened the kiss. You probably hadn’t done it on purpose, simply wanting to feel more of Jihoon out of some basic instinct - but it undid something in him. 
He slid his hands down the sides of your neck and your shoulders until they reached your arms, pulling on them to have your body closer to his. His hands then continued their journey down to your waist, where they sneaked themselves under your t-shirt. They ran up and up until almost your entire back was exposed to the fresh air in his room, the contrast between that and the fire-hot warmth of Jihoon’s hands against your bare skin making you shiver.
He walked you backwards until the back of your legs hit his mattress, unto which he helped you down gently, somehow not breaking the kiss as he did. One of his hands came to brush hair away from your face, while the other remained on your waist, after some time venturing onto your stomach, a sensitive spot for you that made you sigh into his mouth. He took that opportunity to slide his tongue against yours, yet another new sensation that made your head spin.
This was exceeding any expectations you had ever had for a first kiss. In fact, you had always thought first kisses were messy, awkward things, but this was nothing of the sort - your whole body was on edge, responding to every little movement on Jihoon’s part. Your fingers buzzed with a fizzy electricity that put your brain in a daze. You could do this forever, you thought. 
But forever was cut short by the sudden buzz of Jihoon’s phone. Jihoon started, practically leaping off of you and dramatically holding onto his chest when he realized it was just his phone that had interrupted you. The delivery person was calling him to announce their arrival. 
Jihoon pressed a kiss to your forehead, took a few steps, then came back to press another kiss, this time to your lips. Your stomach growled loudly while you waited for him, and you realized you still hadn’t eaten today. Add making out to that, you were ready to devour whatever it was Jihoon had ordered. 
The smell coming from the paper bag Jihoon held as he entered the room again made you close your eyes in bliss and take a deep whiff. “Johnny’s,” you whispered. “You know me so well.”
Johnny’s was your absolute favorite breakfast place in all of town. It had been opened a few years ago by a graduate of your university who had mastered the art of hangover food. From soups, to hash brown patties, to iced coffee, he knew exactly what it was that students needed after a night out. You could tell he had a lot of experience with that himself. He was kind of like a God amongst the student body of your university.
“Of course I do. I know your order from all of your favorite restaurants, and somehow you only realized yesterday that I was pathetically in love with you.”
You smiled sheepishly, taking a bite of your sausage and egg wrap. “How long are you going to hold this over my head?”
Jihoon grinned brightly. “Until I forget about it.”
“So never?”
“Precisely.”
He put on the next episode of your show, and for the next couple hours, the two of you stayed holed up in his room, cuddling once you were done with your food. Even though you had spent endless time watching shows or movies side by side, neither of you had ever dared initiate physical touch, no matter how much you’d wanted to. He’d been scared you’d pull away from him, and you’d been scared it’d be awkward. You hadn’t realized how much you’d longed for his proximity and warmth until you had it.
Save for his laptop screen, it’d been quiet for a while, and you thought you might fall asleep when Jihoon spoke. “I’m so glad I don’t need to pretend anymore,” he said as one episode finished and the next one started.
“Pretend what?”
“That I’m not desperately in love with you and that every single little thing you do doesn’t drive me insane.”
You giggled. “Does it?”
“Yes,” he whispered, his voice a heavy sigh, almost a groan. There was a slight edge to it, a deeper meaning behind that short yes that had your stomach suddenly feeling very tight.
“Oh,” was all you could answer. You suddenly wondered what you might have done without thinking that had had an effect on Jihoon, just as he’d done to you many times before. You also wondered what sort of effect you may have had on him, what sort of thoughts he may have had about you that he had to keep to himself all this time.
Tentatively, you cocked your head up, only to find he was already looking down at you. The glint in his eyes made your body burn. Just as he started to lean in to reunite your lips, your phone buzzed with many texts in a row. Jihoon closed his eyes in frustration and sighed. “I want to throw both of our phones away,” he said, making you laugh.
minjeong hey pooks idk if ur out somewhere or still sleeping but im going to yoshis placeee he needs some stuff there so we’re going together and i’ll prob spend the night over… we’re like inseparable rn or wtv. anyways dont set the place on fire while i’m gone x
you ok thx for letting me know xx im w my boyfriend rn
Minjeong’s response didn’t even take three seconds to come through.
minjeong HUHHHH??? GIRL ???
you hehe
minjeong park jihoon is one lucky man
you how do u know its him?
minjeong literally who else would it be wait does that mean we’ll go on double dates…
you yeah ur right and pls no
minjeong DOUBLE DATES !! girls night tomorrow night i want all the deeeets have fun having the place all to urselves and rmb to use protection xx
you why is that where ur mind goes first ?? down for girls night tho can we watch teen beach movie
minjeong duhhh
“Teen Beach Movie?” Jihoon said, startling you. You hadn’t realized he’d been reading over your shoulders.
“It’s a good movie,” you mumbled, frowning.
“Right.” He said nothing for a few seconds, but he just couldn’t contain himself. The question was burning his tongue. “Aren’t you on the pill?”
Your head snapped towards him at the sudden question. “Uh, yeah, I am. Why?”
His eyes scanned your face as a smirk grew on his lips. “Then we don’t need to use protection, do we?”
You gulped. Your whole face felt hot - after having just shared your first kiss, you hadn’t expected him to mention sex so easily. Not that you weren’t interested in that, far from it, you were just… nervous.
You turned away from him, unable to sustain his gaze any longer. “I guess not,” you murmured. You had started taking the pill at the beginning of university, mainly to regulate your period and lessen your hormonal acne. The contraceptive part was just a bonus, one you had never imagined would come into handy like this. 
Jihoon’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, I need to tell Yoshi about this! He’s gonna freak. I hope he won’t be mad he learned it from Minjeong and not me first.”
“Yoshi?” you asked as you watched him reach for his phone on his nightstand.
“Yeah, we’ve been updating each other on our love lives. He’s really into Minjeong, by the way.”
“That’s… strangely wholesome, actually.” 
While he typed away, you tilted your head and took the time to appreciate your boyfriend’s features. The round eyes, heart-shaped lips, sharp nose and even sharper jawline. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.
Without thinking, you traced a finger along his jaw, liking the feel of it against your skin. When his eyes found yours, you dropped your hand and straightened your head, expression like you’d just been caught red-handed.
“Should we go back to your place? We can pick up food on the way.”
You smiled. “We just ate.”
“And I’m hungry again,” he said, mirroring your smile and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Or at least, he had intended it as a chaste kiss, but he found that he couldn’t quite get himself to pull away. “Let’s go,” he said, lips moving against yours as he spoke, but made no move to actually go.
“Let’s go,” you repeated, staying perfectly still. You’re not sure who was the one to cross the millimeters between your lips, but before you knew it, you and Jihoon’s lips were stuck to each other once more. This kiss had none of the gradual intensity of the previous one - right off the bat, the feeling of Jihoon’s lips against yours flooded all of your senses.
Your hands found purchase in his hair while his found their way to your waist once more. With surprising ease, he pulled you to him so that you were straddling his lap. For a second there, you were conscious about how heavy you might be on top of him, but it was all forgotten when he pressed his lips to yours again in a passionate kiss. In this new position, you could press your body close to his, so close you could almost feel his heart beat against yours. He also had easier access to your back than before, and he quickly took advantage of that. 
Just like before, he sneaked his hands underneath your t-shirt, making you arch your back against him. He slid a finger underneath your bra strap and pulled away for a second to ask if this was okay. You looked at him - his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen before and his face had lust written all over it. You were sure you looked similar.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” you whispered before diving back into the kiss. One second apart felt like hours to you.
Your breath got shakier as he unclasped your bra. He didn’t do anything right away, settling on brushing his palm up and down your back while your heart raced with anticipation. You were so on edge that you couldn’t even kiss him anymore - you buried your face in his neck, gripping his hair so tightly you were probably hurting him. You didn’t care if he could feel how desperate you were. Then, finally, painfully slowly, one of his hands made its way to your front, and he gently grabbed your breast underneath your bra that was hanging from your shoulders. That was already a foreign sensation in itself, but when he took your nipple between two fingers and pulled on it ever-so-gently, the pleasure that overtook your body was so intense that it made you let out a loud gasp and you pulled away from Jihoon, startled as if you had been shocked by lightning. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, breathing heavily, a mix of worry and desire in his eyes. 
You nodded, holding onto his shoulders as you tried to make your breathing return to normal. “I’m fine, just… it’s all very new, is all. I’ve never done any of this before.”
Never had a boyfriend, never held hands romantically, never kissed - that was you. Not that you minded, though, since you’d never been interested in anyone and you were happy to do this with Jihoon, whom you trusted more than anyone else.
He smiled softly. “That’s okay. Does it at least feel good?” he asked, low voice making the hairs on your arms stand.
You whined, hiding your face in the dip of his shoulder again. “It does…” you admitted, voice muffled against his skin.
“You know, it’s my first time too,” he said after a while. 
You lifted your head to look at him. “Really?”
“Mh-hm. You’re my first girlfriend.” His eyes were full of affection as he gazed at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You giggled. “What’s funny?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
“We’re each other’s firsts,” you explained. “I think that’s nice.”
Jihoon made his way to your lips, giving them a small peck. “That is nice. And I promise I’ll make you feel so good,” another peck, “you’ll want me to be your last as well.”
You looked at him for a bit, taking in his features that looked even more beautiful to you now that you’d realized your feelings for him, and thought of a life with him. It might have been slightly premature, but you already knew you liked the idea of that.
“Okay,” you said, as if what he had said had been an offer. It made him smile.
“Okay.” He kissed you, softly like you could break underneath his touch. “You’re so cute, you know that?” he asked against your lips, but didn’t leave you time to answer before kissing you again. “Okay, I think we should take a break,” he said after a few minutes. “We can go to your place. And then we’ll have more… privacy.”
You agreed that spending some time not pressed up against Jihoon might help you think straight again. The walk to your apartment was nice and quiet, your interlocked hands swinging back and forth between your two bodies. When you walked past the grocery store, you stopped in your tracks, looking at Jihoon with a smile which he mirrored immediately, even without knowing the reason behind it.
“Should we bake a cake to celebrate our first day together?”
“That’s very cheesy.” His grin widened as he took a step closer to you. “I love it.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and led you into the store.
The rest of that afternoon was spent baking and decorating the cake. It was a simple vanilla batter, but it took way longer than it should have, because Jihoon first insisted on having a flour fight (which took ages to clean), then on having two cakes and having a competition for whose would be prettier (yours, of course), but you loved every last second of it. It was like a scene out of a movie, and you could not have been more content. To really bring home the cheesiness of it all, you even recorded yourselves blowing out the number one candles of your respective cakes.
The evening came around, and, full of cake and Chinese takeout, you were holed up in bed together, watching the first movie that had popped up on your Netflix recommended. It was too easy, falling asleep in his arms. The combination of his comforting scent and the soft back rubs he was giving you lulled you to sleep like nothing else. 
When you woke up next, it was because of a sudden lack of warmth next to you. You lifted your head to find Jihoon opening your bedroom door and heading into the living room. He had just been going to get water, but you didn’t know that.
“Hoon?” you called out, raising yourself to a sitting position on your bed. He immediately turned around, walking back towards you and crouching next to your bed.
“Hm?”
“Aren’t you staying?” you asked, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. He looked at your hand before his gaze slowly made its way back up towards your face, a smirk growing on his pretty lips. 
“Do you want me to?” he asked back, gazing deep into your eyes. His voice had dropped to a low volume that made it hard to breathe. Initially, you’d just wanted him back by your side, but now all sorts of thoughts were running through your mind.
“Of course. I mean, we’re dating, right?” 
In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, you tried to chuckle, but all laughter died in your throat when your eyes locked with Jihoon’s. You weren’t scared of his intensity - you were scared of the pace at which your desire for him was growing. One inch closer, and you knew you’d be wrapped around his finger.
He leaned closer.
“What are you trying to say?” he asked, tilting his head innocently to the side. Mindlessly, you rubbed your thighs together, searching for some relief for your core that had started to throb of its own accord, but Jihoon was following your every movement and had noticed it. “Are you saying you want to consummate our relationship?” he asked again, a hint of amusement in his voice as he placed his hands on your knee that wasn’t covered by the blanket.
You scoffed and looked away, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. “Not if you say it like that,” you mumbled.
Jihoon’s eyebrows perked up. “How should I say it, then?” he whispered. His hand slowly brushed along your sides until it reached your waist. Even over your layer of clothing, his touch burned. “You want me to make love to you?”
You kept your gaze fixed on something behind his shoulder, focusing on your breathing that was getting shakier and shakier. He drew the blanket away, leaving your thighs exposed to the chilly air for a second before he splayed his large palms on them, bringing you some warmth but intensifying the throbbing in your core. His hands inched closer and closer to where you most needed them, rubbing over your inner thighs but swerving right before he actually reached your core, setting them on your hip bones instead.
“Or do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”
He took your chin between two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your eyes locked for a second before they dropped to his lips, watching the smirk that grew on them. “Guess it’s the latter.” 
As soon as your lips touched, you were overwhelmed by the immensity of your desire for him. Your whole body burned in want, in need. You had no idea what to do except hold on tightly to him and hope for the best, hope that he’d know how to guide you through this even if it was new for him as well. 
If you thought the kisses you’d shared earlier in the day had been intense, this one was on a whole other level. Your hands grabbed everywhere they could find and his gripped your waist firmly as your tongues danced with each other, resulting in a messy kiss that had your head spinning from lack of air in seconds. And yet, you couldn’t get enough. You kept pulling Jihoon impossibly closer by the hem of his t-shirt until he got frustrated from the layer of clothing between you two and simply took it off, discarding somewhere in your room. He gave you no time to admire his defined chest or abs, because he trapped your lips right away. 
He pushed you slowly onto the bed until he was hovering over you, alternating between kissing your lips and your neck, that you were sure would have a couple of purple marks for you to find the next day. Your skin burned wherever he touched it, and it was like a trail of fire had appeared as his hand made its way to your breasts once more, grabbing harshly at the soft flesh there. 
The whole time, he had been in some sort of a trance, drunk on your body, on your scent, on the way you were touching him - on the feeling that you finally wanted him as much as he’d wanted you all this time. But when he helped you out of the articles of clothing covering your upper body, and he had you half-naked underneath him, he had to take a double take and remember to take his time instead of just devouring you whole. For both his sake and yours.  
So he stopped for a bit, letting himself admire you. He noticed you shifting uncomfortably, so he leaned down again, pressing soft kisses along your cheeks and your jaw. “You really are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he whispered before kissing you. He then continued his journey down your neck and collarbones until he reached your breast. “Really so beautiful.”
When he took one of your nipples in his mouth, your back arched against him and you let out a loud moan. He couldn’t keep himself from chuckling slightly - he found it adorable how sensitive you were everywhere he touched you. Your moans were like music to his ears.
Nothing had ever felt like this before. As he circled his tongue around your nipple - God knows where he had learned how to do this - it took everything you had to not just scream in pleasure. Even if Minjeong was out, you still had neighbors. Now that you couldn’t grab his t-shirt, you’d switched to his hair, and you were tugging at it so hard you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ripped a clump of it from his head.
Your panties were sticking to your core, all slick with your arousal, and you didn’t know how long you could go on anymore without attention down there.
As if he’d heard your thoughts, Jihoon started making his way down your body once more, trailing kisses all across your ribcage and stomach.
“I’m torn between taking this real slow and making it last as long as possible.” His lips found a sensitive spot on your lower stomach, right next to your hip bone, and he gently bit the skin there, licking it afterwards to offer you some relief. “Or just devouring you now that I finally have you.”
“Jihoon,” you sighed, desperation evident in your voice. “Please, just do something.”
“Like what?” he asked, clearly enjoying your lust-filled state of mind.
“Anything.”
He chuckled, and by the sound of it, you knew he didn’t have anything good in mind. He lowered himself some more until his mouth was positioned right in front of your pussy, and, with no warning, licked a long strip from your hole to your clit over your panties, humming at the taste of your arousal.
“Something like this?” he asked afterwards, but was only met with a whine. He kissed the soft flesh of your inner thighs while you squirmed in his hold.
“Don’t tease me, please…” you begged, and your voice was so weak and genuine that he could only give in. 
“Whatever you want, baby,” he obliged, the nickname rolling off of his tongue casually. He had no idea what it did to you. 
He helped you out of your underwear, finally getting you fully naked just for him. Jihoon was a man of his words, so not a second was lost before he dived right back into you, licking up the arousal spilling out of you before flicking his tongue at your clit. He held your hips tightly in both of his hands so you couldn’t squirm away from him and ate you out like a man starved. You were so sweet and warm against his tongue, and your taste was worlds more intoxicating than any alcohol he’d ever had. He’d do this forever if you let him.
He noticed quickly that attention to your clit was what got you moaning the loudest, so he alternated between circling his tongue around it and gently sucking at it, sometimes releasing it with a pop just for the hell of it. He slipped a finger easily inside of you, your wetness accommodating him immediately. He couldn’t wait to be inside you - his hard cock was throbbing in the confines of his underwear, but his only concern right now was to make you come undone for him. 
When he found that deep spot inside of you, the one that had you gasping in pleasure and moaning his name, he slid a second finger in, and just like that, you were done for. You came apart on his fingers and tongue, a complete moaning mess underneath him, and he lapped up the arousal leaking out of you like it was water. 
You’d already thought you were at the peak of pleasure when your orgasm came ripping through you like an avalanche, blindsiding you and making you see bright white stars behind your tightly closed eyelids. Your throat felt dry from all the moaning and heaving you’d been doing. You had to take Jihoon’s face between your hands and gently pull him up yourself, otherwise it seemed like he was happy to keep going, but it was starting to overwhelm you.
Jihoon held you in his arms as you came down from your high. You let out the laughter bubbling in your throat as your breathing returned to normal - not because something was funny, but because you had just felt so ridiculously amazing that you couldn’t help but laugh. 
“How was it?” Jihoon asked, a lot shyer than you’d expected.
You lifted your head to look at him, a bright smile on your face even though you felt close to exhausted. “I have a hard time believing that was your first time giving head, Hoon.”
He chuckled. “Very first time, I promise you. I must just have some God-given skills.”
“I’m not even gonna fight you on that, because that was amazing,” you conceded, nuzzling yourself closer to him.
“I’m glad I could do that for you,” he said softly, burying his nose at the top of your head and inhaling there. The scent of your hair was oddly comforting for him.
Before you let yourself drift off to sleep, you started raking your fingernails across his chest and abs, smiling proudly to yourself when you heard him breathe shakily or felt his muscles clench under your touch. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could tell he was holding himself back. “I think,” you started, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw, “That you deserve something in return.”
“You don’t-”
You knew Jihoon. He didn’t like it when you insisted on paying for coffee because he’d done it the last time, or when you baked him something because he’d stayed up all night with you studying for a test. He liked taking care of you, but you always had to almost force him to let you take care of him. You wanted your relationship to be fifty-fifty - you wanted to give him as much as he gave you. Even if he would let you, it wasn’t fair to just take and take.
So you insisted. Whatever he was about to say, it died on his tongue as soon as you placed your palm on his erection. It felt hot and hard under your hand, and saying you weren’t slightly intimidated would be a lie, but you wanted to do this. If you were able to give Jihoon half the pleasure he’d given you moments prior, you’d be satisfied. 
You rubbed your hand slowly up and down over his clothes. “Really, baby,” he managed to say between shaky breaths, “I didn’t do that to get something in return- Fuck,” he whispered as you hooked your fingers underneath the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling it down his legs so he was only left in his underwear. Under the black fabric, his bulge looked huge, and you gulped at the idea of having it inside you.
“This feels good, right, Hoon?” you asked, steadily getting bolder and pressing slightly harder against his bulge as you continued rubbing it.
“It- it does, but-”
You shut him up by pressing your lips to his. He reciprocated it immediately, almost unconsciously, before moaning into the kiss. “So let me do this for you,” you whispered before ridding him of his underwear.
“Okay,” he said, sighing as you rubbed your hands from his knees along his thighs.
The groan he let out as you took him in your hand sent shivers straight down your spine. You could finally put to use all the knowledge Minjeong had passed on to you over the past few months. You let go of Jihoon’s cock to spit in your hand, the moisture helping you glide your loosely closed fist along his shaft with more ease. Your movements themselves were probably very clumsy, but Jihoon didn’t seem to mind - he moaned shamelessly, head fallen back against the pillows and exposed Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
Seeing him like this and knowing it was all because of you drove you crazy, and soon, you became greedy for any sign of pleasure from him. You wanted to hear all of his moans, sighs, groans, watch his abs clench tightly and feel him grab your hair, which he did as soon as you flicked your tongue across his tip, already leaking with pre-cum. The endless string of curses and moans that flew from his mouth as you circled your tongue and shallowly bobbed your mouth around him filled you with satisfaction.
“Fuck, just like that, Y/N. You’re doing so fucking well, baby. Making me feel so good.” Those words had been the cherry on top.
Jihoon was of a more-than-decent size, and fitting all of him inside of your mouth was probably a task that would take a few tries to achieve - you still did your best to take as much of him as you could. You massaged his balls with one of your hands, using the other to hold the base of his shaft while you bobbed your head up and down. You did this with increasing speed then let him take control over your pace as his fingers threaded themselves in your hair, guiding your head around him. You didn’t even know if he was doing it on purpose or out of reflex, but you definitely did not mind handing him the reins.
“You’re gonna make me- Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, sweetheart.” You hummed around his shaft, and that seemed to do him in - with a loud groan, he released his load, hot and sticky inside your mouth. Taken aback by the bitter taste, you lifted your head and only swallowed what you had caught. You took him in your hand again, jerking him off to help him ride out the rest of his high.
You watched him, transfixed by his heaving chest, eyes screwed shut, the beads of sweat pearling across his torso, and the red blush that had spread from his face down to his neck. You’d done this. You’d gotten Jihoon in such a state. You let him rest for a bit as you wiped your hands and his body with a tissue and had a sip of water.
You then pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking the time to admire his smiling face. When he opened his eyes and found yours, you suddenly felt so shy that you returned to your usual cuddling position, head resting against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. You were both smelly and sticky, but you couldn’t care less.
“You did so good, baby. You did such a good job,” he whispered, the praise going right to your heart.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. That was amazing.” He sighed contentedly, then lowered his head to look at you. “You feeling sleepy?”
You shook your head no, a shy smile on your lips.
Jihoon smirked slightly. “You wanna keep going?”
You nodded.
He shifted himself so that his back rested against the headboard. “Come here,” he whispers, pulling you to his lap. You both winced in sensitivity at the feeling of your core right against his softening dick, but you didn’t want to pull apart either. If anything, the small stimulation created a pit in your lower stomach for the second time of the night.
You wrapped your arms lazily around his neck while he rested one of his hands on your hips and used the other one to rub your back. “How are you feeling?” he asked, eyes soft and full of affection.
You pressed a long, gentle kiss to his lips. “Good. Really good,” you said, making him chuckle.
“Good. Me too.”
You made out lazily, lips moving languidly against each other, neither of you in a rush to get anywhere. But after some time, you started to feel Jihoon hardening under you, and when you rocked your hips against him, coating his growing erection with arousal, he groaned. His hands traveled down to your ass, grabbing hard at the skin there as he helped you rock back and forth against him. You started out slowly at first, moaning every time your clit brushed against his tip, but it wasn’t long before you sped things up and lost yourself in pleasure once again. Your arms tightened their hold around his neck and, burying your face in his neck, you pressed your chest flush to his and muffled your moans against his skin, in both pleasure and frustration at having him right against you but not inside.
You suddenly lifted your head, and the look on your face made Jihoon instantly stop. “Is everything okay, baby?”
You nodded, but your worry was still evident in the crease of your brows. “Yeah, I just…” You pouted. “I’m scared it’ll hurt, Hoon.”
Jihoon caressed the side of your cheek with his palm, brushing some hair away from your face. “We don’t have to do this today-”
“No!” you exclaimed, taking the both of you aback. “I want to.”
“Okay.”
“I’m just a little bit nervous.”
“Okay. That’s okay, baby.” One of his hands rubbed reassuring circles into your lower back. “We can go as slow as you want, okay? And we can stop whenever you want. Just let me know. Does that sound good?”
You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, it does.”
Jihoon smiled and pressed his lips to yours. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” you whispered.
He helped you lay on your back against the mattress and hovered over you, propping himself up on one forearm. As he kissed you, he caressed one of your thighs, hand inching closer and closer to your core and making your blood rush with anticipation. Then he finally pressed two fingers to your folds, gathering up some of your arousal 
before sliding his digits inside of you. As you gasped out in pleasure, his lips trailed away from your lips and found a new home in your neck.
He scissored his fingers inside of you, stretching you out and getting you ready for him as he murmured words of “you’re doing so well” and “I’ll make you feel good,” as if he wasn’t already. When you seemed relaxed enough, he slid his fingers out of you, smiling at you mischievously while he sucked your arousal off of them. Then, taking his dick by the base, he rubbed his tip along your folds, making your body twitch and loud moans escape your mouth. He pressed a final kiss to your cheek and buried his face in your neck, trying to ground himself too as he slowly started pushing himself inside of you.
His dick was so much bigger than his fingers, and you gripped his hair tightly as you got used to the new sensation. Tears prickled in your eyes, the unexpected stretch making you frown in discomfort. It was a completely different pain to what you were used to, but the overwhelming pleasure mixed with it made it almost welcome. 
Jihoon was using all of his self-control to not pound you into tomorrow - your tight pussy was sucking him right in, and it was like his whole body sighed of relief when he bottomed out. He couldn’t believe he was inside you, feeling your walls clench around him and hearing your soft grunts as you got used to him. It was a scene right out of his wet dreams. 
“You okay?” he asked, voice muffled against your skin. His voice sounded strained and heavy. 
“I’m okay, Hoonie. I just need a minute.”
For that minute, as you breathed shallowly and relaxed around him, Jihoon pressed wet kisses wherever his lips could reach and twirled one of your nipples between two fingers to take your mind off of your pain. 
“Take your time. I know I’m big, baby,” he said. You could hear the smirk in his voice.
“No, you’re just right, Hoon. It feels nice now.” 
Objectively, Jihoon knew that this was a good thing, and that you had meant in a good way - better for him to fit right inside rather than cause you pain, but a part of his ego had still been hurt by your refutal of his claim. But then you told him he could move, and he forgot all about it.
It took him another superhuman kind of effort to go slow, slowly rolling his hips against yours with a self-control he didn’t know he had. He scanned your face for any signs of discomfort, kissing your small frown in the hope it might go away. He watched as your jaw relaxed and the soft hums escaping your throat turned into moans, as the crease in your eyebrows softened and turned into one of pleasure rather than pain. He allowed his movements to speed up, noting with satisfaction the increasing volume of the noises you were making and the way your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulders.
He lifted himself on his palms and hooked one of your legs around his hips, the new, deeper angle having you seeing stars. He asked if you were okay again, and when you not only nodded yes, but asked him to go faster, Jihoon had to admit he got a little bit carried away, both in his actions and his words. 
Jihoon had a big mouth - you knew it, everyone knew it. What you didn’t know was that he would keep that big mouth even balls-deep inside you.
Maintaining a fast pace, he lowered himself so that his lips tickled your ear as he spoke. “You’re doing so well, baby. Taking my cock like the good girl you are. Isn’t that right? You’re my good girl,” he grunted, punctuating his words with harsh rolls of his hips into yours. You couldn’t even get yourself to answer, that’s how far gone you were, his words going into your one ear and coming out the other. All you could think about was how good it all felt, from his tip repeatedly hitting that delicious spot inside of you to the feeling of his warm, sticky skin against yours. The room smelled of sweat and arousal and was filled with all sorts of noises - your heavy breathing, your moans, your grunts, the wet sound of Jihoon’s dick inside of you.
“Can’t even say anything, can you? Am I making you feel that good, baby?”
You moaned, thinking that should be enough of a yes for him, but you should’ve known better. 
“I think you should answer me when I ask you a question, Y/N,” he commanded, slowing his pace down to get you to listen to him.
“Y-yes, it feels so good, Hoon,” you replied, out-of-breath.
“Attagirl,” he whispered, smiling as he bit the lobe of your ear. 
You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Jihoon halted in his motions, feeling one of your hot, wet tears on his palm. He was quick to wipe it away, searching for any pain in your features, but you only whined, asking him why he’d stopped. 
“Why are you crying, baby? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” he asked frantically. The worry in his voice only amplified your already overflowing love for him.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just… God, this is so embarrassing,” you all but sobbed against his skin, realizing that the pleasure had been so overwhelming, tears had started flowing from your eyes. 
“No, it’s not.”
You screwed your eyes shut for a second before meeting his gaze again. “I just- it feels so good, Hoon.”
A pause passed as he took a deep breath. “Is that it?”
“It is, I promise. Please, just… let’s keep going, Hoonie. I was so close,” you whined, and Jihoon couldn’t help but chuckle at your desperation. How was it that he still found you so adorable even in such a situation?
“Okay, baby. I’m relieved.” He wiped more of your tears that had fallen, but as soon as he moved inside of you again, taking a minute to return to his previous harsh pace, your tears resumed streaking down your cheeks. Jihoon kissed them, savoring their salty taste on his tongue.
It didn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to become tight again, and with every deep thrust, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. 
“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart. All fucked out for me.”
“Mm. I’m so close, Hoon, gonna- fuck, gonna-”
“You’re gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum and make a mess all over my cock?”
“Yes, Hoon, fuck-”
You gasped out loud as his hand found your clit again, using his thumb to rub quick circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Cum for me, sweetheart, show me how good it feels.”
That did it for you. Your second orgasm of the night washed over you, making you release your loudest moan yet. You held on to Jihoon like you might fall apart if you didn’t. 
The quick clenching and unclenching of your walls around Jihoon’s dick as he fucked you throughout your high drove him crazy and, soon enough, he came undone himself, hot, white ropes of his cum filling you up. The squelch as he fucked his cum into you, the both of you moaning in overstimulation, was nothing short of pornographic. 
Jihoon all but collapsed on top of you, humming as you traced your fingernails up and down his back. You took a few minutes to collect yourselves, and you thought he might have fallen asleep, soft dick still inside you, when he lifted himself up with a sigh and slid out of you. You winced at the loss of his warmth. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and said he’d be back in a sec. 
When he entered your room again, he was carrying a towel, a tall glass of water, and leftovers from your takeout earlier. He cleaned you off and asked you how you felt, then you chatted as you ate your food. You could pass out at any moment, but it was nice, talking a little bit after the moment you shared instead of falling asleep straight away. 
He almost choked on his water when you asked him where he’d learned to talk so dirty - now that he was out of the moment, his cheeks reddened at the thought of everything he’d told you. “It just comes naturally,” he’d said shyly.
“Do you want anything?” he asked when you were done eating. 
You kissed him, smiling against his lips. “I’m all good, Hoon. You?”
He mirrored your smile. “All good, too.”
“I just wanna cuddle and sleep now. I’m spent.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” he whispered. He laid down on his back and you followed, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulder while you rested your head on his chest. He drew you close to him and pulled the blankets over your intertwined bodies. “Is it creepy if I just stare at you for a little bit?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
“But you’re so pretty,” Jihoon pouted.
“I’ll just sleep and pretend I don’t know anything about it.”
“Okay, just don’t panic if you feel a strange but very attractive presence looming over you.”
You snorted. “Noted. Night, Hoon.” You pressed a kiss to his neck and he hummed.
“Night, pretty. Sleep tight.”
--
When you woke up a few hours later, your room was bathing in the bright yellow glow of the early morning. You and Jihoon had shifted positions in the night and you’d ended up curled up on your side, back to him while he slept on his back, arms sprayed out next to him. It was the feeling of him shifting closer to you and wrapping an arm around your waist that had awoken you, a sudden warmth engulfing your body that made you feel like you might still be dreaming.
But no, it was all very real. From the man behind you, to the events of the previous night, to the dull but not unpleasant ache you felt between your legs. You sighed contentedly, taking his hand in yours and wrapping it tighter around yourself. 
Curious to see if he was awake, you turned around after a few minutes and faced him. He seemed pretty passed out until you pressed a soft kiss to his nose, then another to his cheek. His eyebrows creased for a second and his foot moved against yours. He didn’t open his eyes, but he pursed his lips for a kiss. He wasn’t content with just a peck, however, and you found yourself making out with him first thing in the morning, lips full of sleep and cotton-soft like your pillows. 
“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed of this,” he says after a while, keeping his eyes closed, morning voice sending chills down your spine. “Waking up next to you.”
“You have?”
“I have. I don’t know if I should freak out over this and have a party or just be chill about it,” he said, smiling.
“We can have a party.”
“Really?” Jihoon asked, opening his eyes wide, excited like a kid who was just told they were going to Disneyland.
“Sure,” you giggled. “We can invite all of our friends and celebrate our one-week anniversary or something. Minjeong will probably want to plan it.”
He sighed happily. “I’m holding you to that. We’re celebrating.”
After lazing around in bed for a couple hours, going back and forth between chatting while cuddling and making out, your growling stomachs forced you out of your room and into the kitchen.
You and Jihoon noticed it at the same time. It was hard to miss, after all - a bright pink sheet of A4 paper with hearts and little Cupids everywhere right in the middle of the surface of your fridge, but more importantly, your name and Jihoon’s in big bubble letters with 99% in the middle. You wanted to rip it from the surface of your fridge, but the damage had been done - index pointed at the paper, Jihoon turned to you with an incredulous look on his face. You scratched the back of your neck and looked around the kitchen for a way to escape.
“Y/N, what’s this?” Jihoon asked, amusement laced in his voice.
You tried to find some sort of excuse, but to no avail. “This is just, um- you know, just a, uh, just-” The sound of Jihoon’s cackles interrupted you. You looked at him, unimpressed. “Don’t laugh at me. I was stressing out, okay? I needed something to reassure me.”
Jihoon was grinning wide as he pulled you into a hug, one arm around your waist and one hand on the back of your head. “You’re so adorable,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your hair. You wrapped your arms around his middle and nuzzled your nose against his neck, the comforting scent of his skin making you forget about your embarrassment. 
He leaned away slightly and took the paper off of the fridge, smiling down at it. “As cute as this is, you don’t need it. I’ll show you everyday that I’m the perfect man for you, okay?”
You mirrored his smile. “Okay.” Even when your lips found each other, you couldn’t stop smiling, giggles escaping from your lips into his. You only laughed harder when he started pressing small kisses all over your face, making sure to not miss a single spot. He pressed a final one to your forehead before resting his against it, both of you closing your eyes and relishing in each other’s presence. 
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
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backtothefanfiction · 7 months ago
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Brown Eyes | A Mandalorian Imagine
Summary- Turns out, there’s so much more at stake than just life or death if you get injured
Length- short
Warnings- mostly fluff, mentions of injury
A/N- this just popped into my head so I of course had to write it out for you guys before I can sleep.
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You’ve been lucky. Real lucky. All this time spent travelling with him and the kid and you haven’t gotten injured once. Which is even more lucky when you think about what your travelling companion does for a living. Or at least that’s what you think to yourself as you now sit hold up in the hull of the ship, your hand holding tightly to the blaster wound at your side.
It was your own fault really. He had told you multiple times to not do wander off or let the kid roam around outside the ship when he was on missions like this- but did you listen… No of course not. It’s not like anything had happened the last 15 times you had let him stretch his legs and get some fresh air and Din had been none the wiser.
He had also told you before that people were looking for him and the kid, which was another reason to lie low, but you didn’t think the situation was a shoot on sight kind of deal. You had both just been enjoying the meadow Din had landed in and the nearby tree line when the first shot had burned its way through the side of a tree. Then came another- and another. You felt one of the blasts burn across your side, but you couldn’t stop, couldn’t acknowledge it. You just had to get out of there.
You had tried to shoot back, scooping the kid up in your arms and running for your life back to the razor crest. The moment you were through the doors you had closed the hatch and placed the kid safely in his cradle, closing the top for extra protection as blaster fire began to hit the side of the ship.
You had frantically began to press buttons to get it up in the air and away from them. As you just about cleared the tree line, the crest half protesting from your hasty take off, another beep, the beep of the coms, sent a new wave of adrenaline through your body.
“What’s happening? Why have-“
You don’t let him finish asking his questions. “They found us. They found the kid.” You quickly informed him. Although you were trying to block it out, you knew from the strained way you were talking he’d know you’d been hurt.
“Is he safe? Is the kid safe? Are you both safe?” He quickly asked through the com link.
“Yes.” You said quickly back, if not a bit breathily, as you fought to steady the ship in the air and move it away from the meadow and the wooded area, instead heading towards a mountain ridge, hoping it would provide some cover.
“I’m sending co-ordinates,” he said- and you could hear the beeping of him typing in the location to send to the crest through the com, “meet me there.”
“Okay.” You said, gritting your teeth against the pain in your side.
The adrenaline coursing through your body had been just enough to see you to the rendezvous point, a large cavern on the far side of the mountains. You just had enough focus to land the crest inside, shutting the engines back down, before climbing back down into the hull to check on the baby. When you opened the cradle, you weren’t surprised at all to find him sleeping in it, the stress of the situation exhausting him. Knowing he was safe though filled you with relief.
Finally safe, knowing Din was on his way, allowed you to finally relax. The only problem was, without the adrenaline coursing through you, you were becoming more and more aware of the pain in your side. You lifted your hand to cradle it protectively as you hobbled to a bench along the outer wall and sat yourself down.
You sneered as you took it in, all blood and charred skin. It made you light headed. And that’s where you were now, eyes closed, head tilted back, resting against the wall. Deep breathing your way through the pain trying to think of anything else to pass the time while you waited for Din to return. He’d know how to deal with this.
You must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew you were being jostled awake, a frantic voice calling your name between curses. It felt like a fight to open your eyes. They were so dry and heavy.
“Come on baby, I need you to wake up. Stay with me now.”
You felt him prod at your side and you let out a small groan as your head lulled heavily to one side. You just wanted to go back to sleep. It didn’t hurt when you were asleep.
“Fuck.” He groaned, his voice ragged and desperate.
As you continued to fight to get your eyes open, your body seemingly working completely separately to your brain right now, you heard his heavy feet begin to charge around the small space searching for what- you did not know with your eyes closed.
You felt him return to you, his hand resting on your thigh and you assumed he was resting on his knees before you. Knowing this was something you definitely had to see to believe, you finally fought to open your eyes. But it was difficult, they kept trying to close again, your head rolling from side to side as you fought to stay conscious, fought to look at him on his knees before you.
You knew his fingers were fumbling with something and you sneered as his fingers jabbed at the wound again.
“Uuuhhh owwwww.” You complained.
“Fuck.” He said again. “I can’t fucking see shit.” He complained.
Your eyes grew heavy again and you more sensed him lean away from you than saw him, but the sudden hiss of compressed air coming from his helmet had them seemingly fly open and you watched him lift the helmet from his head.
“Din-“ you groaned, but he didn’t respond. You watched him as he reached again for the med pack, getting out a pair of scissors and cutting away at the fabric of your top around the wound. He then grabbed a bottle of clear liquid, wetting a pad with it, which he then wiped carefully around the wound. Your eyes squeezed tight and you hissed in pain.
“Hold still now baby, hold still, I’m nearly done.” He says. Your only thought though is when did he start calling you baby?
There’s a reprieve as his hands move away again and your breathing starts to come back into your control. There’s a rustling sound of a packet and you open your eyes again to watch through blurry eyes as he removed a bacta patch from its packaging. You close your eyes and rest your head back against the wall again as he carefully lines it up, before sticking it down over the top of the wound.
You must have fallen asleep again, because when you wake next, you’re lying down on a cot with bandages wrapped around your middle. As you shift, the blanket placed over you shifts, exposing your skin to the cold air. You surmise you are back in hyperspace.
You pull yourself from the bed groggily. Your side still feels tender but it’s nowhere near as bad as it was, the bacta patch clearly doing its job. You slowly begin to follow the sounds of the kid’s babbling up to the cockpit where he is sat resting on Din’s knee. He quickly goes quiet when he sees you.
Din turns himself in his chair to check what he already knows. He’s relieved to see how much better you’re looking already. There’s more colour to you skin and the fact you are moving around speaks volumes to your alertness and body’s responsiveness.
But when you lock eyes on him your brain can only think of one thing. “You took it off.” You say, your eyes blinking at the vague memory as you take in his once again helmeted form in front of you.
“Yes.” He says as if it is merely just a matter of fact.
“You have brown eyes.”
“Yes.” He says again bluntly, clearly not wanting to give these facts more attention than they need.
You frown. “You called me baby.”
He’s silent then. There’s a long pause between you both as he turns himself away from you. “You scared me.” He says as firmly as he can. “Don’t do that again.” He says more strongly, but it just makes you smile.
For the first time since you boarded his ship, it’s clear to you he is able to care for someone other than the kid. “I won’t tell any one.” You reassure him.
He’s quiet for a moment- and you worry he’s not going to say anything at all- when he finally says, “Good.”
A few seconds later you’re dropping out of hyperspace and it’s like the whole ordeal never happened in the first place.
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dr1lldash · 4 months ago
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royal!reader x knight!venture 4.4k, fluff with a hint of angst
trigger warnings; alcohol, mentions of violence, vague descriptions of (fictional) political issues
prompts: 2) “name, i’m begging you. if you won’t listen to me as your guard, then listen to me as someone who loves you - please let me get you to safety before it’s too late.” 7) “so not only have you been ‘entertaining’ marriage prospects, but you didn’t even deem fit to tell me about it yourself? am i not even worth that to you?”
Growing up as the only child of the King and Queen of your kingdom, you lived a life of luxury and peace. You were vaguely aware of political issues between your and neighboring kingdoms, even living as far away from the commonwealth as you did, but it never affected you. There was always food in your stomach, an impressive roof over your head, and a warm bed waiting for you at the end of the day. The one thing that connected you to the people of your kingdom was your friend from childhood, Sloan. They were the only child of the Grand Master of knights, and as such, were expected to follow in their father’s footsteps. They took their training seriously, and by the time the two of you had grown up, they had already been dubbed a knight. It was almost unheard of at their age, but you had seen the hundreds, if not thousands of hours they had put into training, and knew, more than anyone, that it was well-deserved.
It almost went without saying that they would be your personal guard, and although the change from friend to guardian was rocky at first, it made sense. They took it upon themself to train you in self-defense, despite it technically not being permitted. They were insistent that something could happen to you while they weren’t around, even though they were with you every day, from the moment you opened your eyes in the morning until the moment you closed them in the evening.
They took their role as your bodyguard very seriously, to the point that eventually, the friendship you originally had with them began to fade. You tried your best to keep the spark alive, but their role was incredibly stressful, and you could see the toll it was taking on them. You convinced them to take breaks in any way that you could, which usually involved tricking them. At one point, you told them you were afraid your food had been poisoned, and persuaded them to take a bite of your cake. And then another, and a sip of your wine. They pouted when they realized you had duped them, an expression you hadn’t seen in a few months by that point.
However, as time went on, your opportunities to deceive them grew far and few between. Your relationship was almost entirely professional, which was to be expected from someone of your status. You started to accept this fact, preparing for the rest of your life. Within a few years, you could become the ruler of your kingdom or a neighboring one, depending on how things worked out politically, and you needed to focus on that.
You weren’t so much a part of the marriage talks. Your parents kept you updated, letting you know how the negotiations were going, and you were aware that the state they were currently considering marrying you into was one with a long, checkered history with yours. You hadn’t yet met your spouse-to-be, but you had heard nice enough things about them. They were apparently passionate about painting, they often enjoyed walks in their estate’s gardens, and, from what your parents said, they were deeply involved in the politics in their country. A few months into the marriage discussion, your parents decided it was time for you to meet your potential spouse.
You hadn’t seen Sloan since the early afternoon, and you were starting to get a little bit concerned. They didn’t often take days off, much less half days, and you were worried they had gotten sick. Asking around, a few maids told you they hadn’t seen them since lunch, and that they had a nauseated look on their face.
You decided to go to the knights’ sleeping quarters to see if you could find them, but you wanted to stop by your room to get some tea in case they had a sore throat. You were surprised when you opened your door to find them lying on your bed, curled up in the fetal position with a bottle of mead wrapped in their arms. The late afternoon sun shone on their face, their eyelashes casting shadows across it.
You closed the door quietly. “Sloan?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Are you okay?”
They inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering as they opened. “[Y/N]?” they slurred, trying to sit up. They only try for a moment before they give up, resting their head on their hand instead. “What’re you doing here?”
“In my room…?”
“Oh, it’s your room?” They open their eyes wider, looking around. “You’re right.”
You hesitate before speaking. “Is everything okay?”
They hum in affirmation. “Yeah, I just found this bottle of mead and, uh. Drank it.”
“I didn’t know you drank.” You took a few steps forward, sitting on the edge of the bed. They fiddle with the bottle in their hands, tapping their fingernails on it.
“I don’t.” You glance down at the bottle, almost certainly empty, and put your feet on the ground, moving to stand up.
“Stay here, I’ll go get you some water.” Their hand reaches out for you, as quickly as they can in their intoxicated state, grabbing the hand you have resting on the bed.
“Can you just stay?” Their eyes are pleading, and you can now see that they’re red and swollen. You nod, moving back onto the bed. They relax again as you do, letting out a sigh. You position yourself more comfortably, now sitting next to them. The two of you sit in silence for a moment before Sloan breaks it. “I wish you would talk to me like we used to.”
“What do you mean?”
They shifted a little closer to you, their cheek resting against your thigh. “Like when we were kids, and we were friends. We haven’t been friends since I got knighted.” They hesitated before continuing. “I miss it.”
“I still want to be friends with you, Sloan.” You reached out, gently rubbing your fingers through their hair. “Things are different now, and I’m sorry I’ve been more distant. I just don’t want to be another stressor for you.”
“You’re never a stressor for me.” They let go of the bottle in their arms, reaching up to rub at their eyes. “You make my job easier, if anything.” They paused, taking in a deep breath. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do when you’re gone.”
You sat up a little straighter. “What do you mean? I’m not going anywhere. Did someone tell you I’m sick or something?”
They shook their head softly. “When you get married, you’re gonna have another knight. I’ll just be guarding your parents.”
“I’m not getting married yet.”
“So what’s tomorrow?” You looked down and saw them looking up at you, their dark eyes full of ire and hurt.
“I…” you trailed off, unsure how to answer them. “My parents are entertaining a potential suitor.”
They rolled over, leaving your leg cold. “So, not only are you ‘entertaining’ marriage prospects, but you didn’t even deem fit to tell me about it yourself? Am I not even worth that to you?” Tears started to well up in their eyes and they desperately wiped them away. You could hear the knot in their throat as they continued to speak. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
You looked down at your hands in your lap. “I was going to tell you, I just…I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m not really a part of the discussion.” Tears pricked at your eyes, and you squeezed them shut to will them away.
“What do you mean, you’re not part of the discussion?”
“They’re choosing for me. I don’t think I get a say at all.”
“That’s stupid,” they mumbled. “You should be able to choose who you want to marry.”
“Yeah, that would be nice.” You opened your eyes, rubbing the tears that were beginning to stain your cheeks away, and laid on your back. Sloan inched closer, laying on their back and staring at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?” You turned to look at them, only to be met with their gaze already on you.
They blinked slowly. “For overreacting, for disappearing, for not talking to you…for stealing your mead.”
“Wait, that’s my mead?” They closed their eyes before nodding, craning their neck to bury their head in your arm. “From the winery in the village?” They nodded again. “Sloan! I was saving that for a special occasion!”
Their voice was quiet, even if it wasn’t muffled. “Please don’t be mad at me.” You felt moisture soaking into the fabric of your shirt.
“Hey, hey,” your voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m not mad, I promise.” You put your hand on their head, massaging their scalp with your fingers. “We just need to go back and get another bottle, and this time we can share it, yeah?”
“Okay.” They moved their head to look you in the eyes, and you wiped tears off their cheeks. “I think I do need water.”
“I can go get you some from the kitchen.”
“Will you come back?”
“Of course.” You sat up, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed before Sloan grabbed your arm, squeezing it gently.
“Do you promise?” Without a word, you held out your hand with your pinky outstretched. They held theirs out, too, wrapping your pinky in theirs. “Thank you.”
You smiled softly at them before walking out of your bedroom. The trip to the kitchen took a few minutes, and by the time you came back with the largest glass of water you could find, Sloan had fallen asleep on your bed. They were no longer cradling the bottle of mead, instead clutching your pillow tightly. You let them sleep for a while, pulling a blanket over their shoulders and setting the glass of water on the nightstand. You sat on a chair next to your bed, looking out the window and watching as the sun set. After an hour or so, you decided to wake Sloan up and make them drink some water before you let them fall asleep for the night.
You gently shook their shoulder. “Sloan,” you whispered. “Wake up.”
They let out a grunt as they wake up. “[Y/N]?” They buried their face in your pillow. “Why are you in my room?”
“You’re in my room.”
“HUH?” They sat straight up, eyes wide. “Wh-why?” They looked around frantically.
“You were drinking, you fell asleep in my bed.”
“Wait, that was real?” They put their head in their hands. “My head hurts so bad, oh my God.”
“Here.” You handed them the glass of water. “Drink.”
They did as you instructed, draining the glass in a matter of moments. “Did I, uh…did I say anything embarrassing?”
You shook your head and watched as tension drained out of their shoulders. “You just told me you missed being my friend.”
“I am so, so, so sorry.” Their eyes were wide and full of panic as they held eye contact with you.
“Don’t be. I miss being your friend, too.”
Silence filled the air for a moment before they answered. “Really?”
You nodded. “You’ve been my best friend for a long time, I’m sorry we grew apart. You’re important to me, Sloan, I’m glad you’re still in my life.”
The two of you talked for another few minutes, filling them in on what they had missed while they were blacked out. They apologized a dozen more times, and each time, you told them that it was okay, you were glad they had talked to you like that, and you hoped things would be better between you now. You went back to the kitchen to get them another glass of water before they went back to their dorm. You told them they could spend the night in your room, but they insisted, with a slight flush on their cheeks, that they could handle the walk to their quarters.You conceded, wishing them a good night with a promise to see them in the morning.
You fell asleep quickly, your heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time.
You were awoken in the morning to a gentle knock on your door and Sloan’s voice calling your name. “Are you awake?”
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, sitting up in your bed. “Yes, come in.” This was the same way they usually woke you up, but they seemed more hesitant today than they had in the past. They entered, closing your door quietly and standing in front of it. “Are you feeling okay?”
Their cheeks flushed. “I am, thank you for taking care of me last night.”
“Any time.” You paused. “Although, I would rather drink with you next time.”
They flashed you a grin, showcasing the tooth they had chipped when they were first learning to ride horseback. “I can take you to the winery this weekend, if you’d like.”
“That sounds perfect.”
The rest of the morning is a blur. You and Sloan had breakfast together before you showered and got dressed, and then you met with your father to further discuss the possibility of marriage. You were informed that your potential partner would prefer to stay in their own kingdom, so you would be leaving your home, but that they would permit you to bring a few members of staff. They most likely intended for you to bring a maid, a chamberlain, perhaps a chef, but your thoughts drifted to a certain knight. Your spouse-to-be was to arrive in the afternoon, so you had a few hours to consider everything.
Sloan took you out to the garden late in the morning. They wanted to practice their archery, and you were more than happy to get some sun. The castle was large, but spending all of your time inside began to feel like a punishment after a while. The scent of various flowers surrounded you, sweeter than anything the bakers in the kitchen could ever dream of. You found yourself beginning to drift off to sleep, a gentle breeze keeping you cool as the sun warmed your face…
“[Y/N], did you see that?” Sloan’s excited voice startled you out of your slumber. You opened your eyes, covering them with your hand, only to see Sloan’s disappointed face. “Oh, did I wake you? I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” you responded, stifling a yawn. “What did I miss?”
“I got a bullseye!”
“Woah, really?” You glanced at the target and saw a single arrow sticking out of the middle of it. There were several more arrows on the outermost rings, and a few on the ground next to it as well. “Nicely done!”
They beamed at you. “Thank you, thank you. Maybe I don’t need a sword anymore.”
You blinked at them a few times. “You might want just a little bit more practice before you give up your blade.”
They stuck their tongue out at you, quickly retracting it with wide eyes when they seemed to realize what they’d done. They quickly spluttered out apologies, but you couldn’t hear them over the sound of your laughter. You stayed awake for another few hours, watching as Sloan slowly improved their marksmanship before one of your father’s knights came out to inform you that your presence was requested inside.
As you walked in with Sloan just a few feet behind you, there was a sinking feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t chalk up to just anxiety. Maybe the eggs you’d had with breakfast weren’t as fresh as you thought? Were you finally anxious about the situation, now that it was more real? You looked over your shoulder to your knight for comfort, but the look on their face only deepened your concern.
Your footsteps faltered before you fully turned around, now facing Sloan directly. “What is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” You turned back around and continued walking. You had to have been overthinking things, you were just getting nervous. Just before you entered the throne room, Sloan put their hand on your wrist.
“Don’t go in there.”
“My father called me, I have to go in.”
“Something is wrong. Let me go in first.”
“Okay, I’ll wait right here.”
They shook their head. “Let me get you somewhere safe. If I’m wrong, I’ll come back right away, but I want to make sure you’re not going to get hurt.” Their eyes were full of concern and it made your heart hurt. You trusted Sloan, but you knew your father would be upset if you made him wait for your presence while diplomats from another kingdom were visiting. “[Y/N], I’m begging you. if you won’t listen to me as your guard, then listen to me as someone who loves you - please let me get you to safety before it’s too late.”
Without thinking, you nodded. Sloan put their hand on the small of your back, leading you down a few hallways and into the kitchen, where they opened a trapdoor leading to the cellar. “I won’t be long. Thank you for trusting me.” They hesitate before they leave, making sure the trapdoor is properly closed.
You heard their footsteps fade, and then you didn’t hear anything for several long minutes. A small amount of light shines through cracks in the cellar walls, but it wasn’t enough to see anything properly. Your thoughts started to race as the minutes ticked by. When you heard footsteps approaching once again, your breath caught in your throat.
“[Y/N]?” Sloan’s voice was strained. You heard them take a deep breath before something hits the ground. Your eyes widened and you froze, unsure of what to do.
The only sound you could hear was Sloan’s labored breathing. Even though they had told you to stay put until they came back, you couldn’t help yourself. With a decent amount of effort, you managed to lift the trapdoor and you climbed up. Laying on the ground only a few feet from the trapdoor was Sloan, covered in red marks. Their lip was split open, a small amount of blood trailing on their chin, and there was a bruise already forming on their cheekbone. “Sloan?” you whispered, unsure of what to do. Their only response was a low groan.
You ran out of the kitchen, turning to get to the medic’s quarters. You were rushing down the hall when one of your father’s knights stopped you. “Your Highness?” A relieved look is painted on his face as he confirms. “Oh, thank heavens you’re okay. Follow me this way.”
“I can’t, Sloan got hurt. I need the medic.”
“Sloan?” He knitted his eyebrows together. “Where are they?” While this particular knight was not Sloan’s father, all of the knights had helped to raise them. Your concern for them was minimized compared to what he must be feeling.
“They’re in the kitchen, they’re unconscious.” The knight took off without you, running as fast as he can to the medic’s quarters before pounding on the door.
“One of my knights is hurt! Your aid is required immediately!” The knight turned to you. “Your father is in his quarters. Please go to him right away. I promise I will make sure Sloan is taken care of.”
You faltered for a moment before nodding. “Please come and find me as soon as they’re awake.”
“You have my word.”
You took off in the direction of your parents’ bedroom. As soon as you opened the door, you were engulfed in a bear hug by the two of them. Through all their worried mumbles and the hands stroking your hair, making sure you’re unharmed, you were able to learn what happened.
The kingdom that had an unsteady history with yours was not as willing to let go of the past as your kingdom was. They had planned to take your country by force, to overthrow the throne and expand their rule. The security of the castle had managed to thwart most of their forces, but the King and his child were able to sneak in. Sloan’s father had gotten your parents to safety, but the knights were unable to find you or Sloan in order to warn you in time. Behind the throne room doors that Sloan had stopped you from entering was almost certain death.
Sloan had entered the room on their own, catching the two of them unready and without any guards. They took them down, although not without their own injuries, and managed to leave them tied up in the throne room before coming back to retrieve you. The two would-be usurpers were now sitting in the castle dungeon, safely behind bars as they awaited a trial and punishment. The future of their kingdom was unclear, but the future of yours was definite. As your parents finished telling you what had just happened, your knees felt weak.
“I almost didn’t listen to them.”
Your mother wrapped you in a hug once again as she responded, “I’m glad you did.”
A few minutes later, Sloan’s father entered the room. “They’re awake. They want to see you.”
Your feet barely touched the floor as you ran to the infirmary. As it was almost empty, you were able to find their bed easily. Tears pricked at your eyes as you wrapped your arms around them, burying your head in their neck. “Thank you.”
They winced at the contact, but didn’t push you away. “It’s my duty. I’ll always protect you.”
You didn’t want to let go, but you forced yourself to. You stayed seated on their bed as the two of you talked. Your conversations filled the room for a while before you remembered something. You played with your fingers, unsure of how to mention it, or if you even should.
“Sloan?” Your voice was quiet. You needed to know.
“Yeah?”
“Do you love me?”
They blinked a few times, stammering before they were able to answer. “O-of course I do, you’re my closest friend.”
You shook your head slightly. “That’s not what I meant.” You looked at them, only to find them looking at their hands in their lap. “Before I could go into the throne room, you told me to listen to you, not as a guard, but as someone who loves me. Do you love me?”
Silence settled over the two of you. “I’m sorry.” they finally said.
“I misunderstood. I apologize.” You stood up, wanting to leave the room and get away from your embarrassment.
“No, you didn’t.” You almost didn’t hear them.
“What?”
“I’ve loved you for a long time. Longer than I should have. I’m sorry, I’ll try harder to stop.”
You lingered by the door. “How long?” You looked at them. They were still looking at their lap, face almost completely hidden by their hair hanging down.
“Do you remember that storm, ten or fifteen years ago?”
You thought as hard as you could. “The one that lasted for three days?”
“Yeah.” They took in a deep breath. “I was so scared I just wanted to cry, but you made a blanket fort and stole cookies from the kitchen for me. You held me and told me stories the whole time just to take my mind off what was happening outside. Do you remember the story I kept asking you to tell me?”
“I…don’t remember.” You did, you just wanted them to tell you about it.
“It was about a brave knight who would do anything to protect their monarch. They fought a dragon, they rescued their ruler from an evil wizard, they did everything they could to keep them safe. I was already going to become a knight, I knew that, but after that story, I wanted to be a brave one.” They laughed. “It’s dumb, right?”
“It’s not dumb.”
They looked up at you and you could see tears welling in their eyes. “Don’t lie to me, please.”
“I’m not lying.” You sat back on their bed. “Do you know when I started loving you?”
“Just now?” They smiled half-heartedly as they spoke.
You shook your head. “It was the day you were knighted. You were smiling so hard the whole day, even when you lost balance on your horse, even when you lost a duel, even when it rained during the ceremony. I remember you complaining about your cheeks hurting for weeks, but any time we would talk about that day, you would get that same grin on your face. I liked you before, but I couldn’t get you out of my head after that.”“I didn’t know you remembered that day.” “Of course I do. It was the most important day in your life.”
A small smile spread on their face. “Do you really like me?”
“I do.” You moved closer to them. “Do you really like me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then we should go on a date, right?”
They nodded, their smile expanding. “Today?”
You looked at them in the infirmary cot, covered in still-forming bruises and gauze. “You should get better first.”
“I’m strong, I’ve been hurt worse than this.”
You blinked at them. “Sloan. I’ve known you your entire life. You have never been hurt this badly, the most you’ve ever been hurt is when you broke your arm a few years back.”
“…That may be true, but I’m still strong,” they pouted.
You laughed. “I know you’re strong, but you need to heal before we can go out. What if something happens? How would I protect you?”
“You could do it! I trained you, I know what you’re capable of.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” You shifted on the bed, now almost in their lap. “There’s still something we can do while you’re hurt, though.”
They swallowed. “A-and what is that?”
You moved your hand to the side of their face that isn’t bruised, tracing your thumb along their jaw. You craned your head slightly forward, stopping just before your lips touched theirs. “Can I kiss you?”
Their eyes fluttered as their breathing sped up. “Like, right now?”
Your head moved back a bit as you laughed. “Right now.”
“Yes, please.”
You didn’t hesitate before connecting your lips with theirs. The kiss was awkward but sweet, your lips eventually moving together as your heart flutters. They smiled into the kiss, bringing their hand up to rest on your nape and entangling their fingers in your hair. The two of you pulled apart too quickly for either of your liking, but you pressed one more quick peck to their lips before actually separating.
Sloan’s face was flushed red as they lay back on their pillow. “Wow.”
“Yeah?”
They smiled lazily at you. “Yeah.”
96 notes · View notes
andreafmn · 2 months ago
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Collision | Chapter 30
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Word Count: 3.7K Warnings: bodily harm, self inflicted wounds, mentions of blood
Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.
A/N: so close to the finish line now! Can't wait to have another fic finished so I can focus on the other stories and continuations (and hopefully spend time on my original works 😬😬)
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“What did you do?” Theo exclaimed as she flung Carlisle to the other side of the cave. The walls around them trembled, roaring at the force of the throw. Esme had arrived with just enough time to catch (Y/N) before the girl crumbled to the ground. “What happened to her?!” 
“She… s-she… I didn’t…” Carlisle couldn’t quite find the words. He had spent months concocting the image of (Y/N) over and over. She had come to him every single time. Sometimes, she was happy; other times, she was angry. The worst was when she was sad. But she always came. He’d become used to the mirage of her, coming as far as to anticipate excitedly her arrival. It didn’t matter what she could spew at him. All he cared about was to see her face.  
 But that last delusion had thrown him for a spin. She had never asked him to come home. Not in the eight months he had been there. She’d told him she loved him, that she hated him, that she hoped the Volturi killed him, she had even gone as far as to say she would stay with him. But she had never asked him to come home. The words had taken him aback when they had fallen from her lips. She had never felt so real before, but he knew the more time he spent without feeding, the more the hallucinations would take over.  
Carlisle had truly believed the (Y/N) before him was another trick of his mind. It wasn’t until the smell of her blood had reached his nostrils that he finally snapped out of his trance. He didn’t even register that his hand was around her throat until he released her. “I thought she wasn’t real,” he mumbled. “I-I-I thought she was in my head.” 
“Well, she’s very much real, Carlisle,” Esme said as she wrapped the girl’s arm with her jacket, doing her best not to breathe. “And she needs help right now. I don’t know how deep she went.” 
“This is my fault,” Carlisle whimpered as he cradled his head. His mind was still riddled with images and voices he couldn’t discern, and it wouldn’t take long before he gave in to his hunger. (Y/N)’s blood was the most delectable one he had smelled in the centuries he had been alive. “She’s gonna die, and it’s my fault.” 
“You need to pull yourself together, Carlisle!” Theo said as she slapped some sense into the mumbling man. “She needs you now more than ever. I need you to focus and tell us what we have to do to help her.” 
His eyes flickered toward (Y/N)’s unconscious form. Even with the bind, the bleeding had not stopped, only slowed—it wasn’t tied correctly. The man slowly scrambled to his feet, dragging himself through the ground until he got to her. Slowly, he undid Esme’s work, ripping the sleeve and tying it higher up on the wound. Then, he inspected the crystal she had used, thanking God she had gone less than half an inch deep. But the cut was long, and it needed to be closed as soon as possible.  
“Did you bring a first aid kit by chance?”  
“Yes,” Theo said. “It’s in the car right now. I’ll get it.” 
Without another word, Theo disappeared, leaving Esme and Carlisle to look after (Y/N).  
She looked peaceful in her state—if you ignored the mess of blood that had accumulated under her arm. But she was hurt, and it had been Carlisle’s fault. He understood Edward’s plight now. He understood why he told them all to go when Bella had gotten hurt. They caused more harm than good to people who did not deserve kit.  
“It’s not your fault, Carlisle,” Esme whispered. She held onto (Y/N)’s arm, helping the wound stay closed while Theo came back. "It may seem like it is, but it’s not your fault.” 
“I had my hands around her neck,” he muttered, still not believing what had happened. “If I had applied just an ounce of my strength, I would have snapped her neck. She would have never woken up. I… I…” 
“You didn’t though,” she calmed him. “She’s stronger than she looks, Carlisle. And she wouldn’t have done this if she didn’t think she could make it out of here. She cares about you, you know. As angry and hurt as she is because of what we did, she came all this way to help us get you home.”  
“She shouldn’t have,” he scoffed defeatedly. “I don’t deserve her mercy. I certainly don’t even deserve her pity.”  
“But you have it,” the woman said. “It’s not a matter of deserving or not. She didn’t need a reason to help you, Carlisle. Though she fought it, I won’t lie. She deemed you worthy of her help, and she gave it freely, even if it meant getting hurt. Deep down, I know she loves you—that’s why she did this. You two are far too entwined for her to have left you to rot here.” 
“I should have just gone to the Volturi. End everyone’s misery of having me around.” 
“Goodness, no wonder you liked Edward so much,” Esme chuckled. “You’re both cut from the same cloth.” The woman adjusted her grip on (Y/N)’s arm. Her resolve was dwindling as time passed, but she stood her ground. If Carlisle, who hadn’t fed well in months, had yet to attack, she knew she’d be able to hold herself. “Death would not have been the right punishment for what you did. Living… that’s the real damnation. That’s why you were here, right? But that wouldn’t have been right either.” 
“There is no right punishment for what you did,” Theo said as she joined them. “But torturing yourself is not right either. I told you when you came to me the first time, living with what you’ve done is punishment enough. Seeing (Y/N) move on from you is your calvary. This? This is easy. You’ve done this before and survived. Living without her is what’s new.” 
“Theo…” Esme tried to assuage.  
“No, Esme,” she interrupted. “Carlisle, you’ve been the closest thing I have to family since I lost my sister centuries ago. You taught me everything I know now, and for that, I am eternally grateful. But you did a horrible thing, and you have to learn to live with that. Because if you don’t, I’m afraid this won’t be the last time (Y/N) puts her life on the line to save you.” 
Esme tried to speak up again, but Carlisle stopped her. “You’re right, Theo,” he sighed. “I have been a coward, and I pretended this was enough for my penance. But this is not the time nor the place to speak in this. (Y/N) needs tending to, and I need to make sure she’s okay.” 
After Theo threw the kit toward him, the doctor set off to work. He cleaned his hands with cleansing wipes, making sure not a spec of grime was left on his skin. In the box, he found gauze and a basic suture kit. It wouldn’t create a pretty closure, but it would be enough to help her heal. Without giving it another thought, Carlisle cleaned the girl’s arm, clearing the way for the needle and thread. He was gentle at first, checking after every stab of the needle that (Y/N) remained unconscious. If she had woken up, the cave would be filled with more than just her blood. Her screams would have bounced off the walls, ricocheting to the wilderness where anyone could witness it. So, he worked cautiously and fast, closing the wound before covering it with gauze and medical tape.  
“She’s going to be okay,” Carlisle found himself muttering. He ran his hand across her hair, caressing her like he had done many times before. “She just needs to rest.” 
For the first time in a long time, the three vampires allowed themselves to breathe. Even if they didn’t need to, they had all felt their lungs aching for air—especially air that did not smell of sweet crimson. It was a shared breath of relief for the girl they had tangled into supernatural business. They had always meant to protect her, but somehow, some way, she always got hurt.  
“We should take her back to the house,” Theo said. “She’ll be more comfortable there, and she’ll need to recover before we fly back to Washington. There, we can talk.” 
“Of course,” the man replied. “I am sure there are many questions you need answers to.” 
“We’re not the only ones.” 
They were careful as they got (Y/N) down on solid ground again, making sure her arms remained unmoving. The less she was jostled around, the faster her recovery would be. In no time, the three vampires reached the car. Esme and Carlisle cleared out the backseat, making room for the girl to lay down. She was still asleep, but her heart was beating strong, and her chest was rising and falling at a steady pace. She was okay. Hurt and tired, but okay.  
“I’ll stay with her,” Carlisle said as he slipped into the backseat. 
“Carlisle…” 
“Please, Theo,” he begged. “I just… let me just hold her. Please.” 
 Begrudgingly, the woman lay her friend across the man’s lap, keeping a careful eye on the starved vampire. Theo and Esme had fed just before the trip in case things went awry, but it didn’t help that the blood was so fresh… and so human. She couldn’t fathom what it would be like to be in Carlisle’s shoes. But he seemed in control. Perfectly and completely in control.  
Carlisle looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms, and he questioned how he’d ever found the strength to let her go. Somehow, Edward had gotten into his head. “Look how much harm you’ve already caused her,” he had said. “Do you want to be the reason she dies too?” The boy had known just the right words to sway his mind of staying in Forks, of staying with her. He had made the older man believe that being in (Y/N)’s life would cause her more harm than food, and with time, he’d come to see it. 
But time had only worked to muddle his mind and darken his thoughts. He had spent months fighting with his mind over his mistake, over hurting the one person who had stolen his heart in the hundreds of years he had walked the earth. Only she had been able to break through the wall he had built around himself—not even the very family he had built for himself had gotten as close as she had.  (Y/N) was everything he had prayed for, and he’d thrown away that blessing for fear he would spoil her, taint her, harm her. And in protecting her, he had bestowed upon her the greatest hurt of all. He had broken her heart and left his with her.  
There weren’t many things Carlisle regretted in his life. After living for so long, he couldn’t. Regret could take over if he let it, sinking its claws into the depths of his mind. But leaving (Y/N) behind was the one thing he could never atone for. Words had spewed from his mouth before he could stop them. Thinking he’d never see her again, he needed to make sure she hated him for the rest of her life. If he was the villain in her story, she wouldn’t have cared what happened to him after.  
Yet he had failed to remember who she was. (Y/N) cared. She didn’t need a reason to; she simply cared about everything and everyone. Whether it was a complete stranger or her childhood friend, she cared so much about them. Caring came naturally to her; it was programmed into the fabric of her being. The minute she didn’t, that’s when you’d know she had given up on you. And it seemed it took more than Carlisle had counted on. 
(Y/N) had put her life on the line to make sure Carlisle came back to his senses. He’d been so lost inside his own mind that he wasn’t able to distinguish between delusion and reality. But she was determined to bring him back, no matter what.  
“That was a very stupid thing you did, darling,” he found himself whispering. “You should have left me there.” 
“She loves you, you know,” Theo muttered in response. “As much as you tried to push her away, deep down, she still loves you. That’s what keeps getting her hurt.” 
“I wanted her to hate me. That’s why I did what I did,” he confessed. There was nothing he could say that would ever make things right, but he had to let it out. “If she hated me, then it wouldn’t be hard for her to move on. She was supposed to have a brilliant life without me. She was meant to forget me and make something of herself.” 
“But that’s not what happened, is it?” Theo pushed. “You forgot to consider the love she had for you. You forgot that just as you had fallen for her, she fell for you. She loved you more than you thought possible, and it wrecked her, Carlisle. And I didn’t know how much until today.” 
“What do you mean?” Esme asked, diverting her sight from the road.  
“(Y/N) was willing to die to make sure you got home,” she said. “She hurt herself because she had faith you would come back to reality and help her. Even if she didn’t know if you would, she put her life in your hands. That’s love.” 
And it was. As much as he wanted to believe that he had done the right thing by leaving her, Carlisle knew that her love was just as deeply carved as his was. He had crawled his way into her heart, and just as she had left a part of herself in him, he had left a part of himself in her—planted deep and ever-growing. It was a part that would remain for the rest of their lives, even if they wanted it gone.  
“Love is often the greatest detriment of all,” he sighed. “It’s the reason we are in this mess in the first place.”  
“I’d say we’re in this mess because you couldn’t say no to little boy wonder,” Theo scoffed. “There were so many other choices you could have decided on before breaking her heart in the way you did. This is all because of a choice you made.”   
“Theo, there’s no need to be so harsh,” Esme said, placing a hand on Theo’s. “I know he’s regretting everything he did already.”   
“It’s quite alright, dear friend. Her words are less than I deserve.”   
“I told you to come back months ago,” Theo continued. “I told you to make things right with her—to right your wrongs. As a matter of fact, you should have never left. At the very least, you should have taken her with you.”  
“I cannot live in all I should have done, Theodora. Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen Forks to reside in. Maybe I should have stayed in Alaska for longer, maybe even London. Maybe I should have waited until (Y/N)’s passing to grace the lands of Washington again,” Carlisle cried. “But that’s not what I did, and I cannot change the past. As much as I would want things to be different, I cannot change what I already did. I can only make sure I don’t keep hurting her anymore.”  
“She’s a special person, Carlisle. You were able to see that but not treasure it. She’ll never be the same after you, and I need you to know that,” the woman continued. “(Y/N) deserves better.”  
“I know,” he said. “She deserves the world, but I wasn't strong enough to give it to her.”  
The rest of the car ride was quiet, with Carlisle's attention solely focused on (Y/N). He wiped away the specs of dirt that stained her face, softly tracing the lines that made up her face. Lovely, he thought. The most beautiful woman he'd ever been blessed to lay his eyes upon. The owner of his heart, the woman of his dreams, the answer to his silent prayers... the girl he had broken until there was nothing left of her.    
(Y/N) ended the day just like she had started it, confused.  Last she remembered, Carlisle had her pressed against the cave wall, his hand tightly around her neck. But she was comfortable now. Maybe she was dead. In hindsight, slicing her arm in a confined space full of vampires was not the best idea.  
Her eyes fluttered open to find the same bedroom she had left hours before. Only this time, the sun had set, and the stars shined brightly in the sky. Her arm was neatly bandaged, and she could feel the tightness of sutures under it. She wasn't dead—that much she knew. She was back at the house, but she had no idea if the plan had worked.  
“Good,” a voice startled her. “You're awake.”  
“Carlisle,” she croaked, her hand flying to the bandaged wound. “You're here. I wasn't... I didn't know if it worked.”  
“Yes, your life-defying stunt did work,” he chuckled softly. “Too well, I might add. Had all of us scared to death. We thought...”  
“But it worked,” she interjected. “That's all that matters.”  
“Right. Of course.”  
“What time are we leaving? I'm guessing tomorrow since it's already late enough now.”  
“Oh, well,” he cleared his throat, “Esme found some tickets for eight in the morning, but if it's too early, we can...”  
“Eight is fine,” she said. “Guess I should use this time to sleep then. And make up a plausible reason for this wound.”  
“We should talk, (Y/N). We...”  
“Not right now, Carlisle. I just... I want…” The words died in her throat. What did she want? Getting back together was surely a grave mistake—even if her heart still beat to the rhythm of his name. She wanted answers, of course. But she couldn't be in the same room as him for too long, or she was afraid she'd burst into tears and never stop. She hadn't even stopped to look at him... 
 “Oh, Carlisle,” (Y/N) whimpered. His face was still gaunt, painted with the evidence of hunger. His eyes were as dark as coal, the circles under trying to match them in color. He looked tired, most of all. And for a creature that required no sleep, that meant something. Without thinking twice, she cradled his face, running her thumb against his sharp cheekbone. “You haven't fed yet.”’ 
“I fed enough,” he answered, closing his eyes as he leaned into her touch. He had missed her warmth, her compassion. He had missed because he had thrown her away. And yet, he still held out hope. “But I wanted to be here when you woke up. It's my fault you're hurt.”  
“I knew what I was getting myself into,” she said. “Only something drastic would work to break you out of madness. So, I did what I had to.”  
“Still... you could've...”  
“I could have died, I know,” the girl sighed. “But I didn't. And everyone is going home. That's what's important.”  
There he was.  
No longer a face that clouded her mind. Carlisle was there; she could feel him. Even in his state, he was still the most beautiful man she had seen. Somehow, just by being in his presence, she could feel her anger for him dissipating. His allure was strong, intoxicating even. She could feel her resolve dwindling. The months of work she had gone through would have been for nothing if she kept his gaze for one more second.  
“(Y/N)...” 
“You should go feed, Carlisle,” she said. (Y/N) straightened herself out on the bed, pulling the covers up to her neck. “And I should go sleep. Long day tomorrow, you know?”  
“Oh, uh, of course,” he stammered. “I guess I'll see you in the morning, then.”  
“Yeah,” (Y/N) smiled. Her eyes followed his figure toward the entrance, trying her best to keep her from yelling his name. “See you in the morning.”  
Without another word, the vampire closed the door behind him, allowing her to let out the breath she had been holding. She had prepared herself mentally to see him again, she had gone over every scenario that could arise in her head. But nothing she had imagined could compare to their reality.  
Tears welled in the back of her eyes, making her chin tremble as she fought against her emotions. (Y/N) believed she had gotten over her feelings for Carlisle. Even if the love lay dormant under the surface, she thought she at least had control over it. But everything bubbled to the surface—love, anger, betrayal, disappointment. He was everything in one and more than she could manage. He had been the reason for so many of her tears, yet he had also been the reason for so much of her joy. Carlisle had taught her love. He taught her passion and enjoyment. He taught her sensuality and possession. He had given, and he had taken. He had been her everything until he had become nothing. And, in a matter of seconds, he became the same infectious being he had been months before. The man who had made a home in her heart and refused to go.  
But one thing was for sure, (Y/N) could not allow him to just waltz back into her life like nothing had happened, like no scars had been made. Although her entire being ached and yearned for him, she could not. The girl had lost herself after Carlisle had gone, transformed into a person she had no desire to remember. That version of her had hurt, had lied, had drowned her sorrows in a bottle of vodka, and made the decision she would always regret. (Y/N) could not go back to being in a position where Carlisle could hurt her in that way again.  
Instead of giving him any more thought, she decided to simply succumb to sleep once more. Thinking alone was exhausting enough, with the events of the day, she was ready to sleep until the next year.  
Still, as she felt the weight of slumber fall upon her, she heard a whisper from the other side of the door.  
“I love you, (Y/N),” Carlisle murmured, possibly thinking she had already fallen asleep. “And I'm sorry.”  
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yourlocaltrashpandaa · 2 years ago
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living together ~ monkey trio
{macaque, sun wukong, & mk x fem!reader}
++============++
Macaque
macaque started living at your place after the defeat of LBD and it was a weird adjustment for him
he’s not the type for a more domestic life but he loved you and didn’t want to leave you alone all the time
you were happy to have him there but you could tell he was struggling with the adjustment
mostly all the sounds, it irritated his ears
you do live in the city after all and you’re used to the sounds.
to help you got him a pair of noise-canceling headphones
you rarely see macaque without them which you don’t mind
the two of you exchanged small notes to each other
macaque finds it cute especially when you drawing things on the notes
you got blue and purple sticky notes for this
you like things that are color coded, it was one the charms that macaque liked about you
the first couple of days you spent together, macaque won’t sleep in the same bed with you
not that you minded, you loved macaque and respected his space since he’s rarely touchy with you mostly bc he’s not much of fan but also abandonment issues
but one night, you felt him slip into the bed from behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried in your neck and his tail was curled around one of your ankles.
he likes your warmth and after that night, he’s gotten clingy with you
clingy to the point where he’s protective, like very protective
you’ve heard him hiss at people before
you started to think that your monkey boyfriend was half-cat
he loves your touch, you’ve heard him purr sometimes when you pet him when the two of you chill on the couch
you love have your emo monkey boyfriend in your home
Sun Wukong
after a lot begging from wukong, you finally gave in and moved in with him on Flower Fruit Mountain
he was a happy monkie and hugged you as soon as you showed up
“Peaches! You made it!”
“Hi, Wukong.”
wukong’s little monkeys were just as happy to see you as your monkey boyfriend
They took turns hugging you 😭
though you had your gripes with living on Flower Fruit Mountain, you found that it was quite peaceful living far away from the crowd city
wukong knew the stress you’ve experienced while living there so he thought if you lived with him you’d be able to get a sense of peace
you really took on a housewife persona which wukong was surprised by
he wanted to you to relax and let him do everything
yet you said otherwise
you like the idea taking care of household stuff also you want to make this monkey your husband
wukong didn’t stop you from doing what you wanted
when you cook, he’d stand behind you with his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as his tail wagged behind him
“Thanks for everything, Peaches.”
he’s very flirty and rolls out compliments every so often and you don’t mind, they sometimes make you flustered but you’re so used to wukong’s antics they don’t effect you as much so you flirt back sometimes
It catches him off guard sometimes
sleeping in the same bed was easy for the two of you with you liking to cuddle and wukong being clingy
“I love you, sunshine”
“I love you too, monkey face.”
MK
you and mk have talked about who would move into who’s place
But neither of you could come to an agreement on it
Look you wanted to live with mk yet his apartment seemed too small for the two you yet you lived on the other side of the city, yet your apartment was bigger than mk’s it was a bit inconvenient
After days of rating the pros and cons, the two of you settled on you moving in with mk
pigsy and mk helped you move most of your stuff to mk’s apartment (mostly clothes and other things like that) and your hamster
mk was happy to have you with him
He likes seeing you after a long day, sometimes he even forgets that you live there
an exhausted mk would sometimes stumble through the door, seeing you either on the couch or sitting on the bed in the bedroom, he’d flop down in your lap and rant about his day while you listened as you ran your fingers through his hair
you cook most of the time
you’ve been teaching him how to cook, yes he has blown up the kitchen before
mk did get embarrassed when said you���d like to sleep in the same bad as him
mk.exe has stopped working
you laughed at his reaction, and told him that he didn’t have to agree with it if he didn’t want to
he shook his head rapidly and said he doesn’t mind
he was really tense next to you until the both of you fell asleep and woke up almost on top of each other
you moving in with him was the best thing that happened to mk
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sugar-omi · 2 months ago
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i was gonna hold onto this but.. what better time than now?
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DAY THREE — One Night Stand [ baxter ]
tags : NSFW, masc/amab reader, unrequited love, vanilla, underage drinking, reader is bigger/beefier than baxter, unprotected sex, blowjob (baxter receiving), anal, riding, creampie
synposis : this is the last night you'll spend with baxter before he leaves your little hometown for good. you know you can't ask him to stay, but you can at least have a little.. souvenir? for your aching heart before he goes.
[ kinktober '24 masterlist | ao3 ]
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“so..” you break the silence, taking the half empty bottle of expensive chardonnay from baxter's loose grip. "this is really your last night here, huh.."
it's not a question, it's a statement. one you didn't want to make and you cringe at how pathetic it sounds.. but all your other ideas about what to say sound desperate as well.
you know why baxter is eager to leave home and go so far away from this tight-knit town. you'd like to think that you're the only one who really knows him, but you know he keeps his oldest skeletons close to his chest.
he only reveals to you the dirty cobwebs and the crawling bugs in his closet. the smaller, but deeper and meaningful things. things that won't ruin him. sometimes he shows you the bigger bugs, things that the adults in his life would scold him for. things his parents pride shield them from.
but he's thrown you a bone sometimes.. when he's had one too many sips from his parents liquor cabinet or when his heart is so heavy the heartbreak has seeped into his bones and weighs him down with lead.
you are close. in some.. weird way..
and so of course you knew he'd been planning to go to college out of state, and of course you knew he'd never look back. of course you knew you were disposable.
he's never said it. but he's always choking on something, something heavier yet so light in weight that it could fly out at any second and shatter you like a bomb through a glass window.
even though he gives you pieces of himself in exchange for pieces of you that you earnestly give to him, you see how far away he is, and you know his smile is false.
you know there is a wall between him and the rest of the world and while you can chip at it as much as you want, you are not getting past it.
baxter a. ward is an anomaly. he is something much greater than you that you cannot touch and you intend to soak up as much of his light as you can.
"yep." baxter pops cooly, leaning back on his elbow on this stupidly long couch. you're pretty sure this couch is the size of your entire bedroom.
he already knows how pathetic you are, especially after such an uncool icebreaker. that's why he says, "don't worry, you'll be fine without me."
you glare at him, him and that stupid smirk on his face.
your stomach is burning, and you can't tell if its the alcohol or your stomach eating itself. you're hungry, and you're going to be sick after tonight.
you take another swig from the bottle, trying not to think about waking up tomorrow. baxter has one foot out the door, and it's making your world dull.
you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, then your neck before the wine drop can stain your shirt.
"of course i'll be fine, asshole." you spit, trying to cover up your fluster but your face feels hot and your voice is thick. "i can finally relax without you dragging me into your schemes and all over town with your rich friends."
you have to admit, you enjoyed spending time with baxter at that fancy dinner his parents dragged him to. you got to see a dazzling side of baxter that you’ve never gotten to see before. if you didn’t think he was crafted by god already, you did then.
he laughs at that, a look in his eye you refuse to place and you let him take the bottle from you, watching him lean his head back to take a drink.
you swallow thickly, fidgeting in your spot on the couch... you hate how far you are, an unusual amount of space between you, but somehow it's not far enough because your heart still pounds.
you push down all your nerves. soon enough.. you'll be further than your heart can handle, the string he has around it will tug with every inch he walks away from you until it's razor tight, your heart small and bleeding.
"what.. what do you really want to do..?"
baxter looks at you, his lips coming off the bottle with a wet pop. he stares at you, waiting, thinking..
"..what do you have in mind?" he prompts, trying to see where this is going.
you crawl across one cushion, than the second.. then, before your tipsy brain can stop you or process your actions, you're leaning over baxter, the chandelier casting a shadow over him with how you lean on the side of the couch, your faces just inches apart...
you can smell his cologne, and you can see every eyelash, and you can see each crease in his plump bottom lip. having him this close while your blood is pumping hot is intoxicating.
your eyes are boring into each other, and you can’t keep yourself from saying every word that pours from your mouth. “maybe.. one last hurrah? with me..?”
baxter stares back at you, and you know you are going to be stuck on him for years to come because your heart only speeds up and your head is swimming as you sink into every detail of those deep brown eyes.
and you're following how his eyes flicker across your face, lowering to what you think is your lips.. and you're watching that signature, lopsided smile return to his face as he looks at you from under those long lashes he uses as a weapon against you daily.
"how forward.. i didn’t think you had it in you” baxter can’t drop his grin, clearly pleased by your implication. he leans back, exposing himself to you. “i’m in your capable hands, y/n.”
you bite your lip, trying to calm down your excitement.
you’ve kissed people before, even got frisky with someone, a miracle in this little town. your little world. but you’ve never kissed baxter. you never really thought you would even if you’ve imagined it and dreamed about you two being helplessly in love.
you feel like your heart is going to bust with the range of emotions you are going through. but you swallow, pushing everything down, forcing yourself to be in the moment instead of cloud nine.
you straddle him, careful about where and how much of your weight you put on him. aside from the fact that you view him as your own little prince, he’s delicate, bruises like a peach and weighs nothing. 
“i’ll be gentle.” you mutter, leaning forward to snatch his lips up into an uncoordinated kiss, the alcohol blurring your senses, blending them together.
you truly do not know where baxter starts and you end, you feel like you’re on a cloud and this is the best you’ve felt in weeks since you realized the end of your little crush was imminent.
you’re going to savor tonight. memorize the feel of his lips against yours, wet from the alcohol and soft compared to your drier ones. you’re memorizing the taste of the chardonnay, the way it tastes combined with his spit once his tongue slips past your lips, curling his arms around your neck and curling one of his legs around the back of your knee.
his body is tangling with yours, his lips hot and soft, his tongue invading your mouth. baxter is hot under your hands and pliant to your will. it’s making your head spin and it’s definitely not the wine.
your hands roam across his chest, trying to get a feel of his body through his thin undershirt, the heat of your palms rubbing up and down on his hips pulling a pleased groan from him.
you pull away from his lips, moving down towards his pale neck, running your tongue over his mole before latching onto the skin, sucking and grazing it with your teeth.
baxter claws at your shoulders, shivering. “fuck.. don’t leave a mark there.” he breathes out, his voice a tone of light pleasure that you only dreamed of hearing.
you move further down, pushing his shirt up to his underarms so you can kiss down the length of his stomach, your hands on bare, smooth porcelain skin, reaching for every area of skin and muscle you haven’t been able to map out.
“sorry..” you mumble against his skin, latching your lips onto the skin just under his ribs.
you intend to leave your mark. literally. you have to leave evidence, so that way he cannot forget you that fast. that way he won’t move on the second his plane leaves the ground.
baxter has said before he’s not a long-term kind of guy. so even if you don’t confess your feelings tonight, or ever. at least you can let him go after taking a piece of him, even if he’s taking half of you.
you suck harder, and almost sink your teeth into the skin like an apple, pulling off when baxter goes “ah! y/n!” and pushes against your head.
the hickey is dark, and your stomach swirls with something primal and ancient, a quiet beast sitting in the darkest parts of your body.
“are.. you proud of yourself?” baxter pants, trying to gather his breath. you haven’t really done anything, but you can feel and see how hard he is in his tight jeans and you’re proud of yourself even if he’s scolding you.
you look at him through your lashes, putting on your smuggest grin. “of course i am.”
he rolls his eyes, but his annoyance is clearly falsified when he pops the button on his jeans, and you can’t see it, but he has to bite back a smile at how your eyes are following how he slowly.. tantalizing pulls down his zipper, subconsciously licking your lips in anticipation.
he lifts his hips up a bit, shuffling down his jeans just a pinch but leaving on his boxers. he’s making you work for it and it’s terrible. baxter lays back, all proud and pompous.
it would tick you off if he wasn’t so handsome. but instead, you’re pulling his cock free from his boxers and admiring how pretty it is. the length is a blushing red, average length and girth and curved up in a way you’re sure would feel mind blowing inside of you.
that would have to wait for later though, or maybe never, because you intend to rock baxter’s world tonight and deal with the chilling air in the morning.
you take his length in your hand, stroking his cock just enough to make pre pearl at the tip of his flushed cock and pull shaky sighs and stifled moans from him, but you can tell he aches for more, squirming and gasping when your thumb runs over his head.
“y/n..” baxter groans, his fist curling in your ratty t-shirt of some band you never knew but ma said was popular back in the day.
you know what he wants, and you give in without even thinking about resistance or teasing, licking your lips before wrapping them around his tip, earning you a loud moan that rips from baxter’s throat before he can stop it.
you can’t help how giddy you feel, and you pull off, giving short pumps of your hand around baxter’s weeping cockhead. “you’re sensitive.” you tease, returning your lips to his length and staring at him through your lashes. you’re feeling mischievous and powerful. baxter is making all these pretty sounds that leave a quiet echo in his big, shiny house and you’re eating up his expressions.. the way he tries to hide his blushing face and muffle his moans of pleasure.
seeing baxter like this, having baxter like this under you is driving you up the wall and you’re certain you’re going to be ruined for another week with every kiss you pressed against his skin, and with how your lips and tongue wrap around his length, taking him deeper into your mouth.
“god..” baxter groans, his fingers weakly threading through your hair.
you moan around baxter's length, trying to adjust to the intrusion, closing your eyes and holding onto baxter's thighs for support.
you look up at him through your lashes, making eye contact with him. that must do something for baxter because he mumbles something and throws his head back, his hips bucking and making you gag.
“shit- i'm sorry, sorry..” he gasps out, pushing your hair back with his shaky palm. “please.. move.”
you can't deny such a sweet plea, and so you start pulling off, running your tongue along the underside of his cock and suckling on the tip, pumping what's not in your mouth with your hand before taking more of him down your throat again, hollowing your cheeks and sucking.
“oh my god!” baxter howls, digging his nails into the leather, his back arching.
he props up on his elbows, pushing against your shoulder.
“fuck.. okay that's enough, i'm going to come if you keep doing that..” he pants, all the blood that didn't rush to his dick rushed to his face and you're dazed with how good he looks.
he looks a bit disheveled between the wine and the sex, and goddamn if he doesn't make it look good.
you sit up, wiping the spit off your chin. “what’s wrong with that? do you wanna stop?”
baxter shakes his head, putting his dick back in his underwear and taking his sweater off the arm of the couch.
“no, i just want you to fuck me in my bed.” he purrs, enjoying how wide your eyes must be and how you gap at him, your face feels hot and your dick is throbbing in the confines of your jeans painfully.
he tugs your frozen self off the couch and towards the stairs, and before you can pick your jaw off the floor, you're in baxter’s room and he's pushing you towards the bed, giving you one final shove when the back of your knees hit the mattress.
he shoves his pants down his legs, throwing them somewhere on the floor and starts to rifle through his bedside time.
baxter throws a bottle of lube on the bed, and stands between your legs so he can pull your shirt off, running his hands over your relatively smooth skin.
he moves downward, his hands unbuckling your belt with swiftness and popping the button on your jeans. baxter leans his body into you, his lips so close to yours that they’re brushing together as he speaks.
“i don’t have condoms.. the maid found them and tattled. but you’re clean, right?”
you nod certainly. it’s difficult to be promiscuous in this little place, and everyone knows everyone's business. baxter smiles and steals your lips, pushing you down so you’re flat on the bed.
you grab his hips, bringing them down to grind against you which he follows, circling his hips down on your length, his hands groping your chest and tracing the valleys of your body with his fingertips.
he pushes you towards the pillows, tugging your pants and each of your boxers off along the way, and urges you to just lay there all pretty for him while he preps himself, taking the lube in hand and pushing down his boxers, he gives you a front row seat to all his lewd expressions..
you find yourself gulping thickly when his eyes flutter shut and a quiet “oh god..” falls out of his lips when he sinks one of his slick fingers in, his arm trembling a bit on your shoulder.
you take his cock in your hand, stroking him while he adds in another digit.
“mmn..” baxter moans, and you can see how his wrist moves, scissoring and pumping his fingers in and out of his hole. his head falls on your shoulder, his lips are right under your ear, all his little moans and gasps are falling into your ear like music.
he pants and pulls his fingers out of his hole, pouring extra lube over your cock and sitting back on his knees with shaky legs and a flushed, sweaty face. “that’s good enough..”
he straddles your lap, lining you up with his entrance and enveloping the tip of your cock.
your nails dig into baxter's hips, groaning lowly as he slowly takes more and more of your length inside, his insides hot and wet around you, his hole trying to cling onto every inch if dick that pushes into him..
you're pretty sure the feeling and sight of baxter split open on your cock, blushing cheeks to lure you in and open lips to serenade you with his moans is what heaven looks like.
baxter's butt smacks against your thighs, both of you moaning loudly at the action. baxter's arms tighten around your neck, taking a moment to accommodate your girth before he slowly lifts up his hips, his sweaty chest pressed against yours, increasing the heat between you.
you remove baxter from your neck, pulling him into a messy kiss, holding his jaw as your tongue slides along him, the taste of the cheep beer your friends had snuck earlier washed away with the taste of the wine you drank to irritate baxter's parents as a little goodbye present from their darling son.
somehow it tastes better coming from his mouth, the taste tangled with his spit, the taste of pears and your love for baxter is sharp. it envelopes your chest, just like his hot insides take your cock, his body rocking and bouncing in your lap, kissing you hotly, moaning into your mouth as your hand strokes him in beat with baxter's movements.
your minds are clouded with just the sensation of each others tongues exploring the others mouth, and the sensation that comes with baxter's lips latching onto your neck, sucking and biting at your long neck, mumbling into your skin..
"you.. feel so good.." he gasps, the sound of skin smacking bouncing off the walls of baxter's bedroom.
you grip baxter's hips, planting your feet so you can thrust up into him, trying to make up for baxter's slowing enthusiasm.
baxter groans, his teeth sinking into your shoulder almost painfully but he has the consciousness to let go before he pierces your skin. "i'm.. nhgn- i'm gonna cum." baxter gasps out, the sound so much more vulnerable than you've ever heard from him.
"fuck.. me too." you growl, resting your forehead on baxter’s shoulder as you thrust into him, your grip around his cock tightening, giving his length short pumps before he spills into your hand.
your orgasm follows closely behind him, painting baxter's insides with your sticky seed, wrapping your arms tightly around him..
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eventually, you two pull yourselves from the hot, mushy pile of your bodies and share a shower, and by some small miracle, you share the bed for the night, your arms wrapped around him with his back to your chest.
but in the morning, once the golden sunlight comes through the crack of the curtains, you peel yourself out of baxter's bed, only after admiring his sleeping face, and slip into your clothes from the previous night.
you quietly creep down the stairs, hoping no one, or worse, his parents are downstairs to see your walk of shame.
your heart aches, leaving so suddenly. so quietly. but it's a lot easier than watching him leave with it.
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