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whambambatfam · 2 days ago

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Webs of a Wing

Chapter 1

I am not well versed in DC knowledge. I've read a bunch of the older comics but, honestly, these timelines are too confusing to say I have a firm grasp on what the fuck is happening at any given point.

Anyways, this is my story, I made a tumbler for it. I'll definitely upload again..

When the fly on the wall starts to spin webs of their own, can the bats catch on? Or will they be left to dangle in the web they've tangled?

───── ⋆⋅ 🕸 ⋅⋆ ─────

You're hardly school aged when you wake in a strange place, vague memories of someone patting your head as you fall asleep. Then it was all blurry and you went from cold hard ground, suddenly, to a warm bed worth more than you've ever seen.

Laying still, staring up at the ceiling, you lay dazed until you hear the door starting to creak open. Quickly shutting your eyes you wait for the suspect to peak inside.

When his voice sounds, back on the other side of the door, you perk up, "Who's this? They're kinda cute." A boy, most likely a few years older than you.

When that deep, fear inducing voice reaches for you, you jump out of bed after it. "Apparently, my child." He couldn't possibly be talking about you, right?

You make your way silently to the creaked door. Peeping through to watch them. "Huh? What?? Like seriously???" Hands resting on his hips, a boy of black hair and lean physique gapes.

A tall man with a build as intimidating as his voice, "Yes, I've run a DNA test and everything." His large arms cross over his broad chest.

Mirroring the older man's stance, the boy questions, "So, who's the mom?"

"I'm still working on that.."

"Have you.. asked them?"

There's a heaviness lingering in the hall around them. "We don't know if they'll talk yet, not till they wake up." He doesn't like not having answers, clearly.

"Can they?"

Swinging the door open, you bark out at your own defense, "I knew how'd to talk!"

His shoulder shot up, face blossoming in embarrassment, "Oh, sorry." Sighing, he tries to appear nonchalant. "Well, heyyy.. kid.. My name's Dick.” Placing a hand on your shoulder, he smiles, “Guess I'll be like, your, uh, big brother?"

Eyes widening, you step away from his grasp. Being in a strange place with strange people claiming to be your family was concerning. Even in your young mind, alarm bells rang loud and clear.

Like a light shining through your darkest times, his voice cut through the tension. “This may be all too much for,” A man, much older than either, rests his hand on your back, “the newly young master Wayne.” He ushers you gently back into the room. All gentle pats and kind smiles as he insists on you resting.

You never spoke about who or where you came from. It hurts to try, to think of the cold, the dark, the pain, the fear. Push out all the bad. Make it just go away. You just wanted it to go away. Wanted to take every memory of before and lock it up, never to be found. So, that's what you did, burying every painful memory. After some time, your young mind turned repression into suppression. Now, left with only bits and pieces, you couldn't remember even if you wanted to.

So, you’ll need to fill in the emptiness with this fresh start.

Life in the Wayne house started off joyfully. You found serenity in the solitude of the manor, disconnected from the rest of Gotham. When Alfred wasn't pushing tedious homeschooling work, you explored the massive house you'd be calling home. The quietude of empty ballrooms, winding halls and stodgy gardens was your respite. While it wasn't a place made for children, you felt at peace for the first time. The perfect home for a ghost with plenty of walls for flies and flowers alike.

Coming from unknown origins with no paperwork to speak of left you in a peculiar predicament. As a child was low grasp on the passage of time, you couldn't exactly say how old you were. Let alone when your birth date was. No one has ever bothered to tell you and if they have you certainly weren't going to remember. Infact, at Alfreds insists on a celebration, he comes to find you've never truly experienced a birthday of any kind. He had to correct this at once, give you a proper one with cake, singing and presents. It makes him wonder what sort of childhood you've been plucked from.

“Well, young master.” Alfred takes your hands as you climb the step stool next to him, “It's been a year now since you've joined us at the manor.”

Your hands slap onto the counter when you finally reach it. “Yeah, I like it.” Smiling wide up at the old butler, you babble on, “everything is so big and warm and it smells nice and I like when you cook and I wanna cook too and-” Alfred hushes your ramblings with a hand on your head.

“Yes, that's lovely, my child.” The other hand opens a draw nearby. “And that's what we'll be doing today.”

You tilt your head as the hand on it brushes over it and falls away, “Cooking?” Craning your neck, you try to peek at the cards he flips through.

“Well, baking, but yes.” He confirms, offering you a smile that's warm and sweet like his cookies, “Today was the day you joined the family, it's as good a day as any for a party.”

Your eyes light up, “A party for what?”

“Your birthday, my dear.” He chuckles softly at your look of awe,“Today will be your birthday, and every year I shall make you a cake.”

“Woah, every year?” You gasp as he hafs you the small stack of cards, each a handwritten cake recipe. While you can't read them yet, there are pictures of each cake pasted alongside the words. “That's a lot of cakes.. Can I help?”

“Whichever you like most we'll bake.” You're quick to pick one, waving the card around frantically, “I would be honored to have your help as well, young master.”

Alfred got to work with measurements, letting you pour everything into the bowls. He shows you how to mix, guiding you hand over hand when you struggle. You can't help spilling half of you what you're given, covering the counters. Sliding the pan batter into the oven, Alfred has you assist by wiping away your mess.

As he begins readying ingredients for frosting you ask, “Are those guys gonna join us?”

You're too busy scrubbing batter from your stool to see the way he deflates. “Unfortunately, your father and brother are tied up in something.” He sighs, taking the rag and finishing your job. With a sullen smile he hands you a measuring cup of sugar, “Perhaps next year.”

The night is spent merrily celebrating. When it cools Alfred frosts and decorates your cake. He places a number of candles, It's the first of many birthdays spent with just you and Alfred.

The next years were your first time in true schooling, a prestigious boarding school to boot. You couldn't remember seeing so many other children before. The eyes you received from strangers when given your new last name made your skin crawl. Deciding to forgo it in most encounters. Yet, for some reason to a great number of your fellow classmates, that fact seemed to matter greatly. If you met someone who insisted or withheld their friendship without, then you'd simply roll your eyes, never speaking to them.

You decided friends weren't important, instead making it your goal to not just succeed but to exceed. If this was your shot of a real family, you wanted to show them you were something capable. Worthy. You were hopeful, determined in getting close.

Only to be pushed aside at every opportunity.

“I got’ perfect score!” The words burst from you with such excitement you're bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Bruce doesn't even bother to look at the paper you're frantically waving at him. Simply mumbling as he places his mug in the sink, “Very nice.” Before turning to Dick, “Come on, son. It's time to go.” You thought maybe this was how a father was supposed to be. Cold, distant and hardly ever around for someone so small.

Alfred steps up from behind your slumped form. Plucking the paper from your dejected gaze. He hums softly before you hear a rap on the fridge beside you. “Wonderful job young master.” You smile for him as he pats your head. Happy to have at least someone’s acknowledgement.

From what your classmates say, a big brother will either pick on you or support you. Soon you came to find that living with Dick Grayson didn't guarantee you any of his time. Good or bad.

So, despite the terror that being center stage fills you with, you entered your school's spelling bee. The thought that maybe you could possibly impress them gave you just enough nerve.

“Hey, um, Dickie...” When you catch his sleeve, your teeth skin into your cheeks. He peeks over his shoulder at you, “Here, it's a competition.”

His nose wrinkles slightly before he smiles. “Spelling bee?” Not a real smile, you don't get those. It's a empty, meaningless thing that hardly lifts his lips.

“If you're not busy.” You clasp your fingers together, steeling your nerves.

“Uh, yeah. Maybe.” It’s thinly masked disgust if anything.

Time came to discuss bringing you into the public eye, an official declaration of your relationship with the Wayne's. Just the thought of it was unsettling, like placing a target on your back. The last place you want to be is the spot light.

“I don't wanna go. I won't go.” It was then in that moment, when the words left your lips, you could see it in his eyes.

A wave of relief Dick couldn't quite stifle, lip touching at the corner before turning to Bruce, “Maybe they're just scared of all those new people. With everyone looking at them, seeing them as your..” That uptick in his features falters slightly, “first child, technically.” Back then, you thought he cared. That this was actually for your protection. “It's a lot of pressure, maybe it would be better. For them, to stay safe.”

Bruce crosses his arms, examining his older child before looking back to the younger. “You have a point there, Dick.” You've twisted your fingers into Alfreds pant leg, half hidden behind him. “Fine. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to. It might even be for the better.” Neither of them wanted you there, thinly veiled behind words of care, never quit saying it.

Not once then did you realize. There was nothing you could do, nothing you could say, nothing you could show for. Nothing to make them see you, the real you. You couldn't provide them with anything, that made you useless.

“Very well, Master Bruce.” With a sigh, Alfred guides you away as the two leave. He was always the one in your corner. Before you even know this life would be a battle.

This give on the topic began your gradual slope into obscurity. In the hectic years of adolescence, you'd come to the conclusion that private schools are for snobs. You manage to convince the old butler, with baked goods, to allow a change of schools. Not wanting to slow your studies yet overwhelmed by your known family reputation. Public school seemed viable, no one had to know who you really were. There seemed to be no object, or real acknowledgment of this decision.

You used to believe, despite how they act, this was it, this would be your family and you could be happy. Surely, you thought, it's because you're new to them. It must be hard to connect, you found it quite difficult yourself.

So, you decided, you'll just need to put in more effort. Show them that there is something that you and they can do together. You took up everything you Alfred offered to teach you when he was around. You learned to cook, sew and clean the whole manor faster than the master butler himself.

Of course, he had other priorities, not just as your caretaker. Try as he might to keep you at the top of that list, he still has duties to attend. So, you would take your days, even weeks, alone with stride. A good time to build your skills on your own, finding new ways to utilize them. Hoping for something, anything, to bridge the gap with your new family.

“I'll be home late today, Al.” While you had gotten away from uptight private schooling, Alfred still set into a well funded school.

He gives a light chuckle of disbelief over the phone, “You have plans, young master?” Pinching the device between your shoulder and ear, you fumble through your first ever locker.

“It's just a club, I'll still need you to pick me up after.” With all your free time, you thought you'd use more of your growing skills.

“At your service my dear.”

You took time to catch on, years of peeling away from the background. Picking and pulling apart from the inside out, finding something that could peak their interest. Hoping to think twice, even once to turn their heads back to the lone manner.

That's how you found them, their secrets; and the life that pulled them as taunt in one direction as the other did. Digging for a way that you could connect from beyond the twice eye catching lives they live day and night. You were piled with reasoning when you found that special place in the library they all seemed to love. The idea of passing the security felt out of reach at the time.

Walking along the dark water line, looking out to the misty sky. You don't wish for misfortune, but you wait. When that light flickers on and that familiar symbol reflects on the dark Gotham clouds, your breath catches. Ducking alonge the rocky cliff wall by the large alcove, you listen to the rumble. You brace yourself as something in the shallow cave opens, the rumble growing.

Then you have your answer. The Batmobile comes billowing out of the cave, in its wake you hide. Long after its departure from the property, you emerge from your hiding spot. Slipping through the closing doors and wandering down into the bat cave.

Despite how they see through you most times, you're sure Alfred knows when you sneak in. So, appreciating this to be Alfred throwing his hand up and hiding his eyes for your sake.

It's awe inspiring to say the least, especially knowing you live above it every day. It felt like peeking through the lives of strangers and you couldn't look away. You don't know why he kept it from you but you didn't want to be shut out for knowing. Yet, you couldn't satiate your curiosity with just this visit.

You had told Alfred you had a meeting after a club and that you would be home late. For some strange reason he promised Dick would pick you up.

Water splashes up from a speeding tire as you walk along the misty Gotham streets, “Aw man, come on!” Of course Dick didn't show! Why would he? When has he ever?

Now, in this situation, Alfred would wish for you to call him for assistance.

“Over there! Look, look!” Across the intersection a pair gasps and squeals, fingers pointed up at the Boy Wonder. The last thing on his mind as he leapt through the night sky, was an unwanted sister.

If only Alfead could get everything he's ever wished for, but you're not a fairy.

Following gunshot and bangs you skirt around chaos, nearly avoiding an obvious outbreak of costumed thugs. You watch in ired fascination as they beat down each threat thoroughly. As the moon starts to sit lower again and the bad guys are carted away, you realize how long you've been gone.

You arrive at the gates in tune to be blown past by the Batmobile. Inside, Alfred gives you a look as if he knows every secret you've even kept. Thankfully he doesn't say a word, You're out of your damp clothes by the time the dynamic duo ascend to the manor.

For people of the shadows, they never could seem to see you creeping through them.

It's through this that you managed to learn about Barbra Gordon. The commissioner's daughter was someone you could only catch glimpses of from time to time. It was rare for you to catch her attention. Much too preoccupied with her work for the Bat, your father.

The batgirl's skill inspired your own delve into tech. Hacking, coding and even trying your hand at tinkering with new devices. Creations that you've jerry-rigged and hoped against hope that she would even glance at.

She's coming over today, you overheard dick say so. You've poked your head over the banister as you wait to spot the red head. Yet, once she's there, you freeze. Dick and Barbara push through the front doors together. Light rain chasing them inside from the sturing storm. Their foot falls followed by light laughter and easy chitchat. If only it was so easy for you.

You watch as your brother scurries off, promising to grab a towel. This is your shot. “Oh, um!” Words are coming from you before you even know what to say. Stumbling over yourself, you bumble over, haltung in front of her. “B-Barbra?”

“Huh, who?” At the ruckus you've made, she whips around. Head on a swivel 'till green eyes locking on you. “Oh! It's you.. uh..” looking you up and down she stumbles as well.

You have to give her your name, again.

“Right, right. Sorry.” Barbra looks off sheepishly, carting a hand through her hair. Hand flicking droplets from the ginger ringlets.

“It's okay..” that's alright, that's normal Even. You don't see each other all that often.. even though you remembered her name just fine. “I just want to ask you about some-” Unfortunately, yet unsurprisingly, she cuts you off before you can pull out what you want to share with her.

“I've actually got to-” Her mouth snaps shut before she thinks better of words, “Well, um, talk with Bruce.” She finishes with an awkward chuckle and mumbled “Y'know how it is. Always something with the Wayne's.”

No, “Yeah..” You didn't know.

You've never shared more than a last name with the Wayne's.

Patting your head she smiles, “Sorry again, hun. Maybe later?” turning away down the hall Dick had disappeared to. Even to the all seeing eye you were nothing but a mere fly on the wall.

Gothams streets were dark, dangerous, and the only place you could see them for more than a minute. You loved nights like this, when you could slip from the manor. Undetected by the inattentive gazes that should have kept a preteen like you home.

With this habit of bird watching, you found yourself looking more into your subpar self defense. Living in Gotham has given you a natural caution but all too often you've wound up in tight situations. All because you couldn't keep your eyes off them. Maybe if you show them you could do that, fight back, they might see you.

You put yourself out there over and over, “Uh, d-dad?” Alfred insisted you call him that, but it never felt right, “I've been doing, um, I have this..” taking a breath you force it out, “It's martial arts, could you come see me?”

Another paper half glance at before the typical, “I'll see what I can do.”

Apparently, there are some things even Batman can't do.

“H-hey.. I, uh, am doing..” You pull out the flier for your competition. inspecting it over before looking to see him. Half-heartedly glancing up from his comic, Dick gives you a once over before continuing to read, “Gymnastics.”

Finally his eyes hold yours when the word shoots from your mouth. For a second you think this is it. This is when you’ll finally have his attention. Finally make that long awaited connection with your big brother. “I'll see, why don't you ask Bruce?” Dick lays the paper on the living room table in front of him.

“I did... he said the same thing.”

The paper is still there when you come back later.

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writingwithciara · 2 days ago

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blinking lights -quinn hughes-

summary: with planes grounded for the holiday due the snow storm, y/n & quinn are forced to spend christmas together. but oddly enough, neither of them seem to mind much

word count: 3.4k

pairing: quinn hughes x roommate!reader

note: i LOVE writing roommate quinn honestly

"i'm sorry mom. i won't be able to make it home this year. all flights out of vancouver are cancelled." y/n looked at the website opened on her laptop. her mom was sighing on the other end of the line. "i know. i'm sorry. but i should be able to visit in the new year. i promise."

"it's okay honey. i'm just glad that you'll be safe." her mom sighed again. "are your roommates stranded too?"

"i'm not sure. quinn left earlier to catch a flight so it's a possibility."

"well for you sake, i hope you're not alone for the holidays."

"i hope so too, mom." y/n looked up when the door opened. "gotta go, mom. quinn's home."

"okay sweetie. i'll call you tomorrow."

"alright. sounds good. love you."

as y/n hung up, quinn sat next to her on the couch.

"no luck?"

"unfortunately." y/n sighed and closed her laptop. "i'm guessing the same goes for you?"

"yeah. it kinda sucks. it's the first christmas i won't be able to see my family."

"at least neither of us will be alone this year."

"fair point." quinn chuckled and turned on the tv. "what should we watch?"

"frosty the snowman. always makes me feel better."

"got it." quinn smiled and put the movie on. he glanced around the bare apartment. "since we'll both be here for christmas, why don't we decorate? we can also combine traditions and do them together."

"i guess it beats sitting in an empty apartment. we definitely need some christmas spirit in this place."

"strongly agree. we'll go out tomorrow to get some decorations and we'll make a day of decorating and traditions."

"alright." y/n turned her attention to the tv screen. "my mom is supposed to call me tomorrow and she may want to talk to you."

"why?"

"i don't know. i suppose it's because i talk about you a lot but i think she's not sure if you're a guy or a girl. never really specified, honestly." she smiled. "i'm only telling you now so you're not completely shocked when she calls."

"alright." he smiled. "should i expect any questions?"

"she'll probably asked why i'm living with you and stuff like that."

"okay. i think i can handle it." quinn smiled.

after the movie, they both went to their rooms to get some sleep. decorating their apartment was going to be a huge task but if anyone could do it, it's y/n & quinn.

the next morning, y/n woke up early and sent her mom a text.

hey mom. i'm going shopping with quinn today and we're gonna be decorating our apartment after. i'll call you later, alright? love you <3

the second she heard quinn moving around in his room, she smiled and put on a pot of coffee. y/n watched him walk into the kitchen slowly. he smiled at her and sat at the counter.

"ready to shop for decorations today?"

"you bet." y/n smiled and poured them each a cup of coffee. she was excited to spend more time with quinn than she was used to. for the past 3 years, she had been harboring a crush on her roommate but the timing to tell him was never right. he was almost always in a relationship and his girlfriends barely liked her. they tolerated her, at best. and that was why she didn't spend a whole lot of time with him.

when the time came, quinn drove them to the seasonal store downtown. they went their separate ways once inside so they could get the decorations faster and have more time putting everything up.

while walking down the 'gifts for her' aisle, quinn saw something on the shelf that he knew y/n would love. it was so perfectly her that he just couldn't pass it up. he couldn't help the way his heart beat faster just thinking of what her reaction would be. he was so far gone for her but didn't want to risk pushing her away. especially not when she was finally spending time with him again.

it took 20 minutes to get everything and quinn insisted on paying for everything. he didn't y/n to see the gift he was getting her.

when they got home, quinn quickly hid the gift in his room, deciding he would wrap it tonight and give it to her in the morning. by the time he made it back to the living room, y/n had all the decorations sorted out in piles based on each room they were going to work on.

"so i figured you could get started in the kitchen while i worked out here. fair warning, i may need your help after."

"then why don't we work together?" he chuckled. "wouldn't that make more sense?"

"well i was going to play christmas music and when i dance, it looks weird."

"i highly doubt that." he smiled. "i've seen you dance before."

"that was always choreographed or because i was drunk. but i'm sober and don't want to make a fool of myself."

"y/n, i don't think you're capable of doing such a thing. just let me help you out here."

"alright, fine. but no judging me on my dance moves, hughes."

"i would never." quinn smiled and grabbed a box of lights. he grabbed the necessary items to get started while y/n put some music on the speaker. "wanna start on opposite ends and meet in the middle?"

"yes sir." y/n grabbed the other decorations and went across the room. halfway through the 3rd song, quinn was done hanging lights. he turned to look at y/n. she was dancing and in her own little world and quinn couldn't help but admire her more. how could she think she'd look like a fool? he thought she was beautiful and one day, he was going to get the courage to tell her.

when y/n turned around to grab something, she noticed quinn staring at her. it suddenly made her self conscious. "what?"

"nothing. i was just watching you dance."

"oh. i'm sorry about that. i told you i looked like a fool when i dance sober."

"quite the opposite actually. it was pretty cute." he chuckled and headed to the kitchen to start decorating, leaving y/n to stare with red cheeks.

it took her a minute to follow but when she finally got to the kitchen, quinn was already halfway through decorating.

"wow. you work fast." y/n smiled and instead of offering to help, she just leaned against the counter and watched him.

"yeah. sorry about that. i just couldn't help myself. i know you wanted to help with the decorating."

"no. it's perfectly fine. i like observing." y/n smirked and pulled out a mug. she poured herself some hot chocolate and sipped it while quinn went back to work. while he worked, y/n climbed onto the counter and smiled. this was the perfect way to admire quinn without feeling too guilty.

by the time quinn was finished, y/n had a mug of hot chocolate made for him. when she handed it to him, their fingers brushed against each other, causing y/n to draw her hand back quickly. the moment was interrupted when y/n's phone was ringing. she glanced down at the caller id.

"it's my mom." y/n showed him the phone and hit the 'accept' button. her moms face filled the screen in seconds. "hey mom."

"hey sweetie. how's your day?"

"it's good. quinn and i have been decorating for an hour. the place looks amazing. wanna see it?"

"in a minute. i want to meet your roommate."

y/n looked up and held the phone out to quinn. he took it and moved to stand beside y/n so they'd both be on the screen.

"hi. it's nice to finally meet you."

"oh my. you're certainly not what i was expecting."

"y/n informed me that you would say something like that." he smiled.

"how's it going, living with my baby?"

"mom!" y/n turned her face into quinn's shoulder while he chuckled.

"it's great. we're having the best time." he couldn't stop smiling. y/n's head fit perfectly in his shoulder. it was like a dream come true to have her this close. "she's amazing and probably my best friend."

"i'm glad she has such a good friend, honestly. i was so worried about her."

"you don't have to worry about her now. she's in good hands." he chuckled and threw his arm around y/n's shoulder. she grabbed the phone from him and smiled.

"alright. we gotta finish decorating. i'll talk to you later. bye mom. i love you."

"bye you guys. love you too."

after she hung up, y/n turned to quinn. "i'm your best friend, huh?"

"yeah, actually." he turned to stand across from her. "and it kind of hurt when you distanced yourself a little bit over the last 2 years. thought it was something i did. but i'm really glad you're coming back around."

"yeah i'm sorry about that. but none of your girlfriends liked me so i thought it'd be easier for your relationships if i wasn't around a whole lot."

"why didn't they like you?"

"i don't know." y/n shrugged and turned to refill her mug. "but for the record, you're my best friend too."

"glad to hear it." quinn smiled slightly before walking out to the living room. although he had just called her his best friend, he didn't like hearing the word come from her mouth.

"quinn," y/n called out after him as she followed him into the living room. "i'm never going to distance myself from you again, okay? it was hurting me too."

"i'm sorry you felt like you had to give me space. and i'm really sorry they didn't like you. i don't understand why they didn't. you're one of the most likeable people i know."

"i try to be. and i don't understand why they didn't. but it's all in the past and i've learned from my mistakes." y/n sat and looked at him. "i can never stay away from you, quinn. it'll probably kill me."

"well i'm glad you're sticking around because it would probably kill me too, if i'm being honest." he turned to face her and smiled. "so, are there any traditions you have with your family that we can do tonight?"

"my mom and i usually bake cookies and eat some random take-out while watching home alone or how the grinch stole christmas. but we don't have to do that."

"why not? it sounds like fun."

"you'd really want to bake cookies with me?" y/n's eyes widened and she couldn't help the way her smile grew.

"of course. if it makes you happy, then i'll do anything."

y/n tried to ignore the way her heart wanted to beat out of her chest. never in her life had she met a guy so willing to do anything she had asked. it took everything in her not to launch herself across the couch and kiss him. she had to keep reminding herself that they were just friends.

while they baked cookies, both of them enjoyed the closeness of the other. side by side and covered in flour. usually, quinn hated messes but with y/n, he didn't care.

when they put the cookies in the oven, quinn wiped his hands on a towel.

"i'm gonna go take a shower. you order dinner and pick out the movie. i'll be out in a bit." quinn didn't wait for her to reply. he just headed into the bathroom to shower. he spent half an hour in their and when he got out to get dressed, he realized that with his quick exit, he forgot to grab a new shirt from his room. the one he was wearing was covered in flour but luckily the rest of his clothes were fine. he put on his shorts and walked out into the hallway.

y/n looked up from the couch and watched quinn walk into his room. she only got a brief look at him but she was still speechless, regardless of having seen him without a shirt many times. she quickly turned her attention to the tv when he came walking back out to join her on the couch.

"food should be here in 10 minutes and i decided to go with home alone this year. is that okay?"

"it's perfect." quinn smiled and threw his arm around the back of the couch. the couch was big enough for at least 7 people but they were sitting on the same cushion. not close enough to be touching but close enough to feel the heat radiating off of each other. and every few seconds, quinn's thumb would rub against y/n's shoulder. but neither of them seemed to care.

when the food arrived, quinn went to grab it. and when he sat back down, he was closer to y/n than before. as they ate, y/n tried not to focus on the closeness of her best friend. it was hard but she was able to do it.

until he swung his arm back over the couch. he may as well have just placed it across her shoulder with the way his hand was resting there. as they watched the movie, quinn had moved his arm down to where it was actually resting across y/n. she looked at him with an innocent smile, which he adored, then went back to watching the rest of the movie.

when the movie was finally over, y/n stood up and stretched. "well i'm gonna get ready for bed."

"before you do, i was wondering if you wanted to take part in one of my family's traditions."

"it's not going to be something weird, is it?"

"no." he smiled. "unless you count wearing matching pajamas to bed on christmas eve."

"oh my gosh. my family does the same thing." y/n giggled. "wait, do we have matching pajamas?"

"yeah. i bought them a few days ago and was intending to give you a pair before i left for the holidays but i guess it was just meant to happen this way. be right back." quinn smiled and ran to his room. he returned seconds later with the pjs. "i hope you like them."

"they're a gift from you, quinn. i always like those." y/n smiled and headed into her room to change. quinn did the same and they managed to come out at the same time. all he could so was admire the way the clothes fit y/n perfectly. "how did you know my size?"

"because i know you." quinn chuckled, not wanting to admit it was because he stared at her so long that he memorized everything.

"you're the most perfect roommate, quinn." she smiled and threw her arms around him. "thank you."

he immediately hugged her back. "you're welcome."

"okay. well it's bed time now. i'll see you in the morning. good night quinn." y/n ran off the her room to try to get some sleep. but she knew that would be impossible, due to the overwhelming attraction she was feeling. if she didn't tell quinn soon, her emotions were going to shut her down.

as quinn sat at the desk in his room, he couldn't stop thinking about how excited y/n had been when she came out in the pjs. he had seen her happy many times but there was just something different this time.

he wrapped her gift neatly and set it down beside his bed. it was going to be the first thing he grabbed in the morning and he hoped she would love it as much as he loved her.

when the sun rose the next morning, quinn grabbed the box and headed out to the kitchen. y/n was normally a morning person so he was surprised that she hadn't woken up yet. he set the box on the counter and began making coffee. just as he was adding the finishing touches to y/n's coffee, she walked out of her room.

"good morning, quinn."

"good morning, y/n" he smiled and handed her the coffee. when she took a sip, her whole body instantly warmed up.

"this is the best coffee i've ever tasted. thank you." she grinned and continued to drink it as they both made their way onto the couch.

"so what else does your family do for christmas?"

"we stay in our pjs all day and spend time together. it's pretty boring but if you're around the right people, you can have the best time."

"well then that's exactly what we will do today." quinn smiled. "oh, before i forget, i have a present for you. close your eyes." he got off the couch and grabbed the gift from the kitchen before returning. "i hope you like it."

y/n unwrapped it carefully and opened the box. she pulled out a teddy bear with a canucks jersey on. and not just any jersey. a demko jersey. he even came with mini goalie pads and a helmet.

"i know how much you love thatcher so when i saw this, i just knew i had to get it for you."

"i love it so much. thank you, quinn." y/n set the bear down and hugged quinn. "i didn't get you anything. i'm sorry."

"it's alright. you being here is enough of a present for me." he rubbed her back and smiled. when y/n pulled back a little, her whole expression had changed. she was still happy but there were tears in her eyes.

"i appreciate that, quinn. but i feel like it's just not enough to make you truly happy."

"y/n, you're more than enough. you are the perfect gift."

y/n smiled and placed her lips on his. he was shocked at first and just as y/n was about to break the kiss, quinn pulled her closer and kissed her back. they stayed in that position for a few minutes before either one of them wanted to let go. when they separated, quinn rested his forehead against y/n's and smiled.

"if i had known that would be the outcome, i would've told you those words a long time ago." he smiled and held her face. "i've been wanting to say it for as long as i've known you but the timing was never right. you had steven and i had my own relationships. but i guess that's kind of a cowards excuse, huh?"

"nothing about you says 'coward', quinn." y/n smiled and closed her eyes. "you're the most kind, patient and sweetest man i've ever known in my life. these last 3 years of random relationships and hook-ups have all brought us to this exact moment. the moment where i can finally tell you that i've had the biggest crush on you for the past 3 years. i know it sounds insane but i like you a lot quinn. and maybe that's why your girlfriends were always jealous. they could probably tell how i felt and they didn't want me around to screw up their chances with you. that's why i had to keep a distance from you. i didn't want to have to make you choose between me and them because it would've been a losing battle for me."

"if that had ever happened, you would've won every single time. i never really cared about all those other girls. the only one that matters to me, is you. and i hope i conveyed that well enough in that kiss."

"seems pretty evident now." y/n smiled and finally opened her eyes. "guess that was kind of stupid of me, wasn't it?"

"not at all." quinn smiled. "like you said, the last 3 years of random relationships have brought us to this moment right here. the most perfect moment." he placed a kiss on her lips again but didn't give her enough time to reciprocate. "i love you, y/n. everything about you is so perfect and it's been driving me crazy for 3 years."

"i can't believe that the planes being grounded are the reason we're here together."

"me either. but i wouldn't change it for anything."

"i wouldn't either." y/n leaned up to kiss him again. "for the record, i love you too."

#nhl #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #nhl fanfic #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #vancouver canucks imagines #quinn hughes imagine #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #qh43

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matheoxs · 1 day ago

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[THIS IS GONNA BE HARSH

No way you're not assuming things in your favor and expecting your desires please, make it make sense.

I'm going to speak for all bloggers because I know some of them are tired and scared to say it. But don't come to me asking how to manifest, for the love of fucking God, READ READ FUCKING READ.

No way we are going to 2025 and your ass still asking how to manifest this and that.

Assume and let it BE, that's it. What do you want me to tell you? Jump five times and roll or something? There's literally nothing else to do.

Not only that, but those anonymous asking if the Law of assumption is real? Like, until this day, bro, get a fucking grip. Jesus Christ.

You're going post by post trying to find something that will click for you and not even applying it. You're wasting your time. I'm not saying you can't read posts or whatever, but if you're not applying it, then you're wasting your time.

It's annoying, yes it is. When are you going to decide enough is enough? Because me and other bloggers can make posts every single day, but at the end of the day, it's you. It's literally you. It's your choice.

Enough is enough.

we are literally going to 2025, enough is enough. Stop with the bullshit. You know why you don't have your desires right now, you know it, and I don't have to tell you.

Someone can spread a rumor about somebody without proof, and you will believe it.

There have been many times in your life where you assume things without proof. Yes, there have, and you probably don't even remember, and it manifested itself in the 3D.

Why are you waiting for the blogger to come back? Are they your God? Stop the glaze, please. It's getting too far to the point where you see those bloggers bigger than you.

They manifested a big house, so can you?? They're not special, I promise you.

They manifested appearance change, so can you. They manifested being able to shift every time they want, so can you.

You can talk to those bloggers in real life, and you will realize they're just regular people. They're not that special, I'm not that special.

It's really not that serious.

Because of the likes they get on their posts, it makes you think that they're bigger. They're just numbers. Knock it out.

Now, let me get real with y'all. There's no such thing as unrealistic or big desires. You're the one labeling it as unrealistic or big desires.

Do you really think that the 3D says something like, "oh no, I can't reflect that, it's too unrealistic and big"?

Do you really think that the 3D looks at your desires and says that? Think about it for a sec. Now, YOU tell me, do you really think that the 3D thinks that?

Or is it just you labeling them as big and unrealistic? You see how you're always the one who assumes things???

I KNOW, SURPRISINGLY RIGHT? Well, it shouldn't be a surprise to you. You should already know that.

I don’t want ANY ANON coming in my asks asking me dumb ass fucking questions when you can just get your ass to read and try to actually understand

It’s actually really easy to understand if I’m being fr

There’s many bloggers who literally breaks it down in the most EASIEST WAY to understand

So stop with the excuses.

Stop trying to look for motivation especially shifters Omds

Im gonna write another post on this im not done yet call me mean wtv idc it had to be said loa bloggers ARE TIREDD

And I also think that’s why the loa community is kinda dying.

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dilf-docs · 2 days ago

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It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction

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themultifanshipper · 1 day ago

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Oscar was frozen to the spot. It took him a few seconds for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing, but as soon as it did, he saw red.

Warnings: this is a heavy one guys, army!oscar and army!reader, non descriptive sexual assault!!!, I tried to describe it as vaguely as I could so no details, I feel like this is obvious but just in case the SA is not with Oscar, angst, kinda hurt/comfort, then some pretty freaky smut, I despise the very concept of the military but I'm a whore for a man in uniform so… here we are, vaguely based on that one episode of ‘Lie to me'

You and Oscar were very competitive. Everything from punctuality to training exercices were a chance to one up each other.

He was taller and stronger than you so it made physical challenges his area of expertise.

But you were more agile, more analytical, and a definite asset to the team.

You loved a man in uniform, but Oscar was just so insufferable not even the way his broad physique filled out his fatigues could save your opinion of him.

He was cocky, arrogant, and hated being wrong.

You bickered constantly, and the only reason your fights never got physical is because neither of you wanted a dishonourable discharge on your records.

You were always out on missions with your squad, and right now you were in Afghanistan.

Your sergeant was a different kind of man.

Nice, but a little bit creepy, would sometimes walk into the female locker rooms without announcing himself…

But he was always sweet to you. He was exceedingly polite, and never made any passes at you. He never made you drive the front convoy car, even though everyone was supposed to take turns doing it.

Which in a way you were grateful for, given that it was the most dangerous position to be in, even though it was a bit unfair to the others. You’d heard rumours, but he never did anything to you.

Until today.

Your last day before returning home.

The temperature in your tent was stifling that afternoon, so you'd gone off to a local spring that was surrounded by walls of rough rock to cool off and relax after a stressful few weeks.

You were in shorts and a sports bra, nothing indecent in case one of your fellow privates came along.

And the sergeant had apparently followed you there, because as soon as your outer layers were off, he sidled up next to you and put his hands on your hips from behind, making you jump.

“Hello, beautiful”

“Wha-” You tried to turn around and push him off, but he was too strong and pinned you against the rock face.

You struggled, but he quickly insured you couldn't call for help by putting a hand over your mouth.

“I think it's time to repay me for my generosity over these past few weeks, no?”

You were stuck, body pressed between him and the rocks, and you felt utterly helpless against his tall muscular frame.

…

Oscar was looking for you. He wanted to apologise to you after your brief argument earlier. He'd been a bit of a dick and you called him out, nothing out of the ordinary.

He was rehearsing what he wanted to say in his head, because despite the two of you always being on the verge of hating each other's guts, you pushed each other to become better, and he wasn't going to lie, he did have a bit of a soft spot for you.

Which is why when he turned the corner and saw you and the sergeant pressed together, the first thing he felt was intense jealousy.

But the way you seemed to be squirming in his hold, and the way he was holding you down sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body.

He didn't even think twice, he sprinted over and dragged the other man off you, throwing him on the ground easily.

The half-second glance he spared you told him everything he needed to know. You were on the verge of tears, and there were a couple of scrapes and bruises forming on your skin.

He turned and stalked towards the man on the floor.

You were so shocked at the sudden turn of events your legs gave out and you tumbled to the floor with relief.

Your eyes filled with tears and you turned away to get your clothes, but your body didn't respond.

You were forced to watch as Oscar straddled the sergeants waist and landed a well aimed blow to his nose, breaking it instantly.

“What the fuck do you think you were doing to her?!” he hissed, anger seeping from him in waves.

“None of your business, Piastri” the other man said, earning him another hit.

“Don't you ever touch her again, you hear me?”

The sergeant tried to spit at him but Oscar just landed another, much harder punch, this time knocking him out.

He stood up with a snarl, landing a hard kick to the man's ribs for good measure, and made his way over to you.

You were curled up with your knees tucked under your chin and tears still blurring your vision.

“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively, crouching down in front of you, a hand hovering somewhere near your arm, unsure if you were okay with being touched right now.

You didn't want to appear weak, and you didn't trust your voice so you simply gave him a swift nod.

Unfortunately the movement dislodged a few tears, which fell down your cheeks.

His heart broke.

“I'm sorry, that was a stupid question, really” he sighed at himself “Let's find your clothes and get you back to camp, then I’ll contact-”

He was looking around for your clothes and you couldn't help it, you surged forwards to wrap around him in a tight hug, almost knocking him off balance.

He took that as a sign that he could touch you, and held you in his arms, cradling you gently as you sobbed into his shirt.

You don't know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough for the air temperature to drop as the evening rolled around, and a chill ran down your back.

You shivered and he helped you grab your clothes before heading back together, leaving the sergeant unconscious on the ground.

He stuck by your side all through dinner, keeping an eye on you as you ate your meal in relative silence while the others chatted away about their excitement of getting back home, not noticing that the mood was very different at the other end of the table.

You looked so downtrodden, Oscar didn't think twice before asking “Do you want to stay in my tent tonight?”

It was a bit of a risky question when he thought about it, but to his surprise, you nodded immediately and smiled at him sheepishly.

“If you don’t mind… I don't want to be alone in case… well…”

He smiled and put an arm around your shoulder. “I understand, don't worry”

…

His tent was the same as yours, but somehow it seemed much smaller because of the mess that was in it.

Clothes (uniforms) and bags were strewn everywhere, and for some reason he had two sleeping bags.

“I get cold easily!” he whined defensively when you asked him about it.

You smirked. “Aw does little Osc need a hot water bottle to keep him warm at night?” you cooed mockingly.

He rolled his eyes at you and slipped into his sleeping bag to take his pants off without you watching him.

You raised an eyebrow at him questionningly. “Since when are you shy about getting undressed?”

He chuckled “I wouldn't want you to get a glimpse of my banging bod and fall in love with me” he joked.

You scoffed. You'd seen him in his swimwear before and he knew that.

You took your over clothes off in front of him nonchalantly, not bothering to hide yourself given that he had also seen you in swimwear, and he sucked in a breath and quickly looked away.

For a dick, he was being quite a gentleman, and something stirred inside you at that fact. You didn’t know he was capable of being a gentleman.

You slid into your own sleeping bag and sighed in relief, your body fully relaxing for the first time since this afternoon.

You were both lying there, in slightly awkward silence.

You thought back to how quickly Oscar had reacted, and shuddered at the thought of “What if? What if Oscar hadn't been out there at that moment?”

The distress must have shown on your face because Oscar asked “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing” you replied a bit too quickly, avoiding his gaze that was burning into the side of your face.

“You're a bad liar” he muttered softly, not a hint of joking in his tone.

“You know you're probably going to get a court-martialed when we get back?” your voice trembled as you realised that the thought of not having Oscar around made you sad.

“I doubt that, I was protecting a fellow officer. If anything he's the one who should be getting court-martialed.”

You sighed. In a perfect world.

“That's generally not how these things go, you know? They'll probably find a way to blame me and then I’ll be the one in trouble…”

Oscar rolled over onto his side and stared at you with a serious expression.

“Look at me” he ordered. You turned your head to see a stormy look in his eyes “I will do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. And if it does I will quit the army altogether.”

You blinked at him.

“You don't have to do that”

“Of course I do.” He glanced down briefly at your lips. “If I don't who will?”

You felt tears prickle at your eyes again and you gulped down the emotions threatening to spill out.

“Thank you, Oscar” you breathed.

He smiled “No problem”

“No. I mean thank you for earlier… not every man I know would have done what you did”

His eyes softened as he looked at you.

He didn't need to say anything, you both knew it to be true.

You fell into a comfortable silence and you almost drifted off, if it weren’t for the slight movement next to you.

“You okay?” you asked, seeing that Oscar was searching around for his disguarded shirt.

“Yeah, I’m a bit cold so I’m going to put my clothes back on”

You watched him put his shirt on, and you felt sorry for stealing his sleeping bag.

“Well… you know the most effective way to maintain body heat?”

That made him freeze. Of course he knew, it was basic training. The best way to warm up was to share body heat with someone.

“You…” he gulped “You wanna do that?” his eyes met yours. “For me?”

You smiled at him “Sure. It’s the least I can do”

He frowned at that. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything, that’s not why I-”

You shushed him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I know, but I feel bad that you’re cold because of me so I want to help you get warm, simple as that”

Without another word you unzipped your sleeping bag, then his, and zipped them together to essentially form a big sleeping bag for two.

Oscar was a bit red in the face at your sudden proximity to him but he looked mildly impressed. “Ingenious”

You rolled your eyes and lay down on your side with your back to him. “Whatever, now shut up and get over here”

He grumbled something you couldn’t hear and shuffled over to you, his arm hovering awkwardly.

“Can I, uhh- you know, touch you?”

Thank god he couldn’t see your face or he would have seen how you blushed furiously at his words.

You had to scold yourself for your unholy thoughts.

“Of course”

His arm was draped over your middle, and you could feel the heat of his chest almost touching your back, but for some reason he seemed reluctant to press his body to yours, which was the whole point of this.

“Oscar, you do know the concept of spooning, yes?” you giggled, trying to lighten the mood. He mumbled out a ‘yes’.

“Then you know your body needs to be touching mine, yeah? Not just your arm.”

“I uh- I don’t think that’s a good idea right now” he whispered, and his breath on the back of your neck made you shiver.

“Why not? I told you it’s fine, we’re just sharing body heat”

He sighed. “I can’t. I have- uhh, a problem.”

“What problem?”

“You know... A problem that would make it very uncomfortable for both of us to spoon right now”

Your breath hitched. “You mean…”

The silence stretched on and he didn’t say anything.

“You mean you’re… you've got- uhh…”

“Yeah” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I usually … you know, before I go to bed but you’re here, so… yeah”

Your face was burning now. You now had the image of Oscar getting rid of his problem swimming around your head.

“You can deal with it… if you want. I don’t mind. This is your tent.”

His arm twitched where it was lying against you. “No I’m not doing that while you’re here!”

“Why not?” you were feeling emboldened by the obvious stutter in his breathing “It’s a natural bodily response. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Oscar had to thoroughly recompose himself, before saying something he’d regret.

“No it’s fine, it’ll go away in a minute.”

“Okay, suit yourself” you sighed, closing your eyes and your brain unhelpfully supplied the image of you helping him with his problem.

Neither of you said a word after that, you were both too busy trying to think of something else, anything else, rather than the ache between your respective legs.

It had been a while since you'd been in this close a proximity to a man, especially one as fucking fit as him.

And he was fucking hard. And probably big as well, if the size of his ego was anything to go by.

You felt him shiver behind you.

“Oscar” you turned around so that you were facing him. “It’s not going to go away is it? So either accept it, or get rid of it, but I don’t want you to be cold!”

His eyes were wide as he met your challenging gaze. You didn't know where this brazenness was coming from, maybe it was pure adrenaline, but you turned over again and huffed. “Now get on with it”

A beat passed without a sound, before he started shuffling around.

“You sure you're okay with this?” he asked tentatively.

“Yeah go ahead, pretend I'm not here”

Oscar sighed and reached a hand down over his underwear, giving himself the lightest squeeze. Damn, he was really hard.

“Shit, okay” he said, talking to himself more than anything.

He slid his boxers down enough to free his cock and wrap a hand around his girth.

He bit back a moan.

He was determined to do this quietly, for your sake.

You'd told him to ‘pretend you weren't there’ but that wasn't possible for Oscar in that moment. Firstly because the heat radiating from your body was impossible to ignore, secondly because when he closed his eyes all he could see was you, and all the past dirty fantasies Oscar had had about you when he got himself off.

He'd thought of what it would be like to see you on your knees for him, begging for his cock, or how you'd look bouncing on top of him while he sucked your tits.

He was just a man after all.

And he was so hard it hurt, and he was trying his best to not let any noises slip.

But you could hear the slight movement of his hand against the sleeping bag, and the way his ragged breathing was getting heavier, and then his almost silent whimpers.

And now you were getting turned on.

It's not like he was being loud. By any account it should have been easy to ignore him, but all of your senses seemed to have tuned in to him, and only him.

You could almost see him in yoir mind, lips bitten raw and eyes squeezed shut as he worked his cock frantically, trying to come as fast as possible while you were inches away from him.

The heat between your own legs was becoming unbearable, you needed some kind of relief, so you didn't think twice before sliding a hand into your own underwear.

The first touch against your clit sent an instant wave of relief over your body, so you carried on, sliding a finger through your folds, which were so wet it slipped right in with no resistance.

You flexed your wrist, careful to not make any movements that might alert Oscar to what you were doing.

It was filthy, rubbing one off to your friends sounds, but you couldn't help yourself. You were getting wetter by the minute and the pressure of your palm against your clit just felt so good.

You were biting your lip in an effort to stop the noises coming out of your mouth, and you were doing a better job of it than Oscar, because he was letting out pathetic little whimpers.

“Fuck” he let out a quiet breath, and you almost would have missed it had you not been listening intently.

You clenched involuntarily around your fingers at the sound, and let out a high pitched noise of your own.

He froze, worried that he'd somehow gone too far.

“Shit- sorry… I'll stay quiet I promise”

You let out a breath, not stopping the movement of your hand.

“Oscar”

“Yeah?” he sounded breathless as his head whipped up to look at you.

“Don't stop, fuck-” you were so fucking needy you could feel yourself slowly creeping towards an orgasm.

Oscar's brain stalled as he realised exactly what you were doing, and his cock throbbed at the thought of you getting off to his noises.

“Are you…?” he asked, hand picking up the rhythm, aided by the steady drip of precome leaking from his tip. “Are you touching yourself as well?”

“Yeah… I'm sorry” you whined “You just sound so hot, Osc, couldn't help myself…”

His brain melted at the nickname, and at how fucked-out you sounded already.

“You have no idea how fucking hard I am right now” he groaned in frustration.

“fuck- I need you” you were trembling, you just needed a little extra push to get over the edge.

“Jesus” he gasped “What do you need?”

“Need you inside me, please” you begged so prettily, how could he refuse such a request.

His body finally made contact with yours, and you could feel him against the curve of your ass.

He reached around your body and replaced your hand with his.

“Fucking hell, you're soaked” he grunted as you quickly slid your underwear off and hooked your leg over his hips to pull him closer to you.

You took his cock in your hand and for the first time felt exactly how big he was.

“Fucking hell Oscar” you gasped.

He chuckled and lined himself up with your dripping cunt, rubbing himself through your folds.

“Fuck me Osc, please” he swiftly pushed inside, and the way he stretched you out so perfectly made your brain turn to static as he wasted no time, thrusting in and out of you shallowly.

You turned your head to the side and grabbed his face to join your lips in a messy kiss, panting as he buried himself in you to the base.

You shuddered as his cock kissed your cervix over and over, all the while rubbing your clit in fast tight circles in an effort to make you come before him, both of you being already so close to the edge you could taste it.

Neither of you lasted very long. As soon as you started clenching around him he was a goner, and he came inside you with a punched-out groan of your name while you whined into his mouth.

You were too exhausted to move, so he kept his softening cock inside you, and wrapped his arms around you to hold you tighter.

“Well, I'm not cold anymore, that's for sure…”

You giggled and slapped his arm playfully.

He responded by leaning over you and pressing his lips to yours in a passionate display of emotion that you were too tired to unpack right now, so you just enjoyed the moment, smiling into kiss.

You fell asleep like that, in each other's arms.

When you got back, you discovered that several complaints had been made about your Sergeant, and there was some kind of investigation involving lie detector tests.

He did end up getting arrested, and you were promoted for your troubles, and because you deserved it, of course.

Apparently he was the one that had been preventing you from getting that promotion, on the grounds that you were better off under his supervision, as he put it in his reports.

So you sued, and won, and Oscar was so proud of you he bought you an engagement ring, which he gave to you in Paris, on the Seine, while a accordionist played Careless Whisper behind you.

It was raining fucking buckets, and the accordion sounded dreadful, but to you it was absolutely perfect.

Oscar found it incredibly hot that you were now his superior, and often called you Sir to rile you up.

So naturally, you regularly had sex in your uniforms, because you were both absolute freaks about it.

#my thots #oscar thots #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #f1 #formula 1 #op81

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milkteabinniechan · 2 days ago

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Sweet Treat - Felix

(this is a membership exclusive + a preview 👀 you can read the whole addictive story here)

pairing: best friend! Felix x fem! reader

summary: what happens when your best friend accidentally eats some aphrodisiac chocolate and can't control his urges? Will you help him out?

warnings: aphrodisiacs, nipple play, size difference, size kink, mommy kink, org@sm denial, dom reader, dacryphilia, overstimulation, begging, mind break

a/n: *cough cough* this story is purely self indulgent.

“I'd have you on your knees calling me Mommy in two seconds” you chortled, shoving Felix with your arm while your thumbs worked like lightning over the PlayStation controller. Felix always won at these kinds of games. Two characters going head to head, smashing each other's faces until one was headless and spraying blood everywhere. It was times like this, where he was kicking your ass for the hundredth time, that you wondered why you even invited him over in the first place.

“Fatality.” Felix boomed. His character landing a deadly final blow to the chest, sending your guy flying across the screen headless and pathetic. “Now what were you saying about me calling you Mommy?” He smirked, the cocky grin on his lips infuriatingly attractive. He returned the shove from earlier before crossing the living room towards the kitchen. He searched the cupboards loudly for something sweet to snack on. His victory treat he called it. Arrogant prick. You tossed your controller into the seat next to you and groaned obnoxiously. Your eyes wide and pitiful. You make your way to your room to find a new game, a game you may have a chance of winning.

You return to the living room and see Felix on the couch. His face was a bit flushed as the two of you made eye contact. “You okay, Lixie?” you asked, your voice coated with concern. Felix moved in his seat for a moment, his stomach flexing under his t-shirt. He blushes deeply, his face turning a bright shade of red as he stammers nervously. “Oh, um, yeah I'm fine. Just, uh, kinda cramped up from sitting for too long I guess.”

Your eyes wandered shamelessly down his waist to his lap. Felix’s cock was throbbing painfully in his sweatpants, all swelled up and begging to be released. Of course, hiding a massive cock wasn't easy. You knew he was a big guy, you had caught glances every once and a while, but you didn't know he was that big.

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faithshouseofsmut · 2 days ago

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Only you|| Lando Norris

Summary — you and Lando are best friends who have feelings for each other

Warnings smut p in v nipple play teasing

Word count 6934

Reposted form my old account which was deleted

You had been friends with Lando for as long as you could remember—back when the world was simpler, and the only thing that mattered was which video game you were going to play or which movie you’d queue up for a late-night marathon. You’d met at the race track a few years ago, and the connection had been instant—easy, comfortable like you’d known each other for years.

But lately, things have been changing. And neither of you was brave enough to address it.

"Hey, you alright?" Lando's voice broke through your thoughts as you fiddled with the edge of your drink, staring into the cup more than you should. He was leaning on the table, casual as ever, but the way his gaze lingered on you for just a fraction too long made your stomach flip.

You blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You sure? You’ve been kinda off tonight.”

“I’m just... not used to these late nights,” you shrugged, a half-lie, but it was easier than admitting what was going on—your thoughts had become a jumbled mess of *Lando this* and *Lando that*, and you were pretty sure that it wasn’t just a passing phase anymore.

Lando tilted his head, clearly considering pushing further, but he just gave a small nod. “Well, if you need me to kick anyone’s ass for you, just say the word.”

You laughed, trying to shake off the tension. “You’re such a dork, Norris.”

He grinned, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Like you were still the same two idiots who spent hours arguing about nothing and everything at the same time. But then, for a split second, you saw the way his eyes softened, and for the briefest of moments, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe... maybe he wasn’t joking about being there for you.

Lando felt a pang in his chest at your words—it was so obvious you were deflecting, but he couldn’t press any further without giving himself away. The truth was, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way his heart sped up whenever you were around, the way his skin tingled whenever your hand accidentally brushed against his.

But he couldn’t say anything. There was too much at stake—the friendship you’d built, the comfort and familiarity of it all. It was too good to lose over a silly, confusing crush.

He sipped his drink, trying to act casual, but he could feel the tension growing between you both—awkward, charged, like the air before a storm. He wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension, but every opening line he could think of sounded wrong in his head.

Instead, he just settled for watching the way your eyes darted around the room, never really focusing on anything for more than a second. You seemed... off, and the fact that you wouldn’t tell him why was eating him alive.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned a little closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Seriously, you’re sure you’re alright? You can tell me if something’s going on, you know. I mean, we’re friends, right?”

He didn’t miss the way you tensed up at his question, and it sent a pang of anxiety through him. Had he said something wrong? Was he pushing too hard?

You forced another smile, trying to maintain the facade. “Yeah, of course, we’re friends. Just like always,” you said.

Lando’s frown deepened. That wasn’t the response he was expecting. He had a feeling there was more going on than you were letting on, and the thought was driving him crazy.

He chewed on his lower lip, weighing his words. “Then why do I get the feeling that you're not telling me something? You've been acting weird for a while now—you're not as yourself.”

He waited, studying your reaction. There it was again—that flicker in your eye whenever he mentioned something to do with your behavior.

You swallowed hard, the guilt churning in your stomach. You wanted to tell him—you did. But the words lodged in your throat stuck somewhere between fear and uncertainty.

“It's...it's nothing, I promise,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone light.

But Lando wasn’t buying it. He knew you too well at this point—he could read the signs of a lie better than the track maps he studied religiously.

Sighing, Lando set his mug on the coffee table before gently taking yours out of your hand, setting it right next to yours, and holding your hands in his own.

Lando's touch was soft, his eyes fixed intently on yours. The heat from his hands soaked into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Please, just talk to me,” he said, his voice unusually serious. “I know something's not right—I can see it, okay? Do you think I haven't noticed that you've been acting weird around me? And you won't even tell me why.”

You could hear the worry in his voice, see it in the lines of his face. Dammit, you had made Lando Norris worry. Guilt clawed at your chest—you hated that you were the one to cause that look in his eyes.

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tight. You wanted to pour out all your feelings right then—about how every touch lately made your skin blaze and how you stayed up at night listening to old voice notes he sent you.

But instead, you just sighed, your shoulders slumping in defeat. “It’s just...it’s complicated, okay?”

Lando tilted his head, a silent encouragement to continue. He was listening now, really listening, his gaze never leaving yours. “Did someone hurt you? Because if they did tell me I’ll take care of it.” Lando says slightly panicked he couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt in some way the whole thought made his stomach upset.

Your heart clenched at his words—he was always so protective, so quick to defend you from any possible harm. The thought of him going to bat for you was both endearing and a little heart-breaking.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that, I promise,” you reassured him quickly. This wasn’t what you had been worried about, but somehow, your lie only made you feel worse.

“Then darlin tell me what’s bugging you” he pleaded. There was that nickname again. The one that made your heart skip a beat and your palms start to sweat. You bit your lip, hesitating, wondering if you were ready to bear your soul to him like this.

“It’s…it’s stupid, really,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. Lando leaned in closer, a crease forming on his forehead. “Hey, look at me,” he said, gently tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “If it’s bothering you like this, it’s not stupid.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his touch, the soft pressure of his fingertips on your skin. Lando was closer now—so close that you could see the flecks of gold in his normally blue eyes. Somehow, despite everything, your feelings for him had only grown, intensified…and there was no burying it anymore.

“It's...it's you,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, your heart racing. It was like once you started, the words just kept coming.

"Every time I'm around you, I just...I feel different. Like, I get all fluttery and nervous, and my brain turns to pudding. And I can't stop thinking about you, and...”

You paused, your words catching in your throat. You hadn't meant to dump it all out like that, but once you started, you couldn’t stop.

Lando's eyes widened as you spoke, disbelief and surprise warring on his face. He’d known something was up, but he hadn’t expected this—to hear that you were going through the same things he was.

For a moment, he just sat there, dumbfounded, his grip on your chin still loose but his touch still there. Then, softly, almost reverently, he breathed a single word. “Me?”

You almost laughed—it was so typical for Lando. Even when you were pouring your heart out, the idiot still found some way to be charming.

“Yes, you,” you said flatly, rolling your eyes in a vain attempt to hide your nerves. “Who the hell else would I be talking about?”

Lando chuckled, a soft rumble in his chest, and somehow, you could feel the tension slowly seeping out of the situation.

“I just…I can’t believe it,” he confessed. “I’ve been going crazy over the same thing for months now, I didn’t think you’d…

He trailed off, looking at you with a mix of disbelief and something bordering on awe. You stared at him, your mouth open in surprise. Had he just confessed what you thought he had?

“Wait, back up. You…” You pointed a shaky finger at him, your words coming out in a jumble, “You’ve had a crush on me for months?”

Lando looked sheepish, like a kid caught sneaking cookies. He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish little smile on his face. “Yeah,” he almost winced at the admission, like he expected you to start laughing any moment. “I know, it’s stupid, but I couldn’t help it. Every time we hung out or talked, or even just…it was like I’d just lose my mind.”

He huffed a dry laugh, looking down at his hands, “I never thought…I never thought you felt the same.”

Your heart felt like it could burst out of your chest at his words. Lando Norris, the flirty, carefree prince of Formula 1, had a crush on *you*, a normal, average girl. It didn’t seem real.

“God, we’re both idiots,” you breathed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Lando looked up at you, eyebrows raised, a mixture of amusement and relief on his face. “Why’s that?” he asked, a hint of a smile on the edge of his lips.

You huffed, shaking your head. “Because neither of us had the balls to say anything until now.” Lando barked a laugh, leaning back against the couch. “That’s a fair point.”

He glanced sidelong at you, some of the easy confidence returning to his usual swagger. “Although I have to say, I’m still a little surprised you never noticed.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “How was I supposed to notice? You’re a big flirt. How was I supposed to know I wasn’t just another one on your list?”

“I could never let you be just another girl on my list,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as he gazes deeply into your eyes. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and an electric tension envelops the space between you. You can feel your heart racing, each pulse resonating with the intensity of the moment. Lando’s expression is earnest, revealing a vulnerability that makes your breath catch in your throat. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, locked in this intimate moment, where all your past encounters seem to dissolve, and only the possibility of something deeper remains.

Your heartbeat hammers in your chest, a cacophony of emotion swirling inside. Lando's confession is more than your racing mind can handle. You hadn't expected to hear those words from him.

You opened your mouth, trying to find the right response, an appropriate reaction to the raw honesty in his eyes. Yet, no words come out. All you can do is sit there, caught between wanting to believe his words and a lingering uncertainty. His eyes are unwavering, fixed on yours, waiting.

Lando looks at you, his gaze unwavering. He can see the storm of emotions playing over your face, the way your mind is racing to make sense of all this. But he isn’t deterred. For him, this isn’t just another flirty banter, another attempt to charm someone into a night of fun. This is real—the realest he’s ever felt about anything in his life.

He reaches out, his fingertips just barely brushing your cheek. The touch is light, and gentle, as if he’s afraid of scaring you away with too much pressure.

The soft touch of his fingertips against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, a stark contrast to the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind. And yet, despite the confusion and surprise, you find yourself leaning into his touch, almost unconsciously.

“I mean it,” Lando says softly as if reading the unspoken doubt in your silence. His eyes are earnest and intense. “I don’t just… I don’t just ‘flirt’ with everyone. You’re… you’re different.”

Your heart clenches at his words, his quiet honesty. Part of you wants to believe him, to take a leap of faith and trust that this isn’t just empty words. But the other part, the part ruled by doubt and fear, keeps you rooted in place.

“How am I different?” you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze. Lando takes a moment to think before answering, his fingers still tracing light circles on your cheek. His touch is soothing, and grounding—a small patch of calm in the whirlpool of emotions.

“You’re different because you’re *you*,” he finally replies, his voice firm, certain. “You’re not just another girl I flirt with. You’ve been my friend forever. You know me better than anyone. And yet, somehow, you still like me. For me, not just for the thrill of it all.”

The words hit you like a wrecking ball, knocking the air right out of your lungs. He was right. You had been more than willing to accept Lando for all his flaws, his quirks, his vices—everything that made him who he was. And somehow, miraculously, he was offering you the same in return.

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” you whisper, your voice wavering, betraying the lingering threads of doubt. Lando's expression softens, his touch becoming more gentle, more reassuring. “I can’t promise we’re going to be perfect, darling,” he admits quietly. “There’ll be rough spots, I know that. But I can promise I’ll be there for you, through all of it.”

He takes a breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “I can promise I’ll try, with everything I’ve got. To make you happy, to keep you safe, to be good for you.” You look up at Lando, your heart in your throat. Everything in you wants to believe in his words, in the sincerity behind his eyes. But the fear of the unknown, the uncertainty of what the future holds, still whispers doubts in your ear.

“I want to believe you, Lando. I do,” you confess, your voice barely audible. “But I’m scared. I’m scared of getting hurt, of losing what we already have.”

“I know,” Lando nods, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I get it. I’m scared too.”

He takes a moment, swallowing hard. “But I’m also tired. I’m tired of pretending. Tired of dancing around what both of us have been feeling for months now.”

His hand cups your face then, his touch becoming firmer, more certain. “I’m tired of not having you as more than a friend. And I think...I think you are, too.”

Your eyes flutter shut at his touch, your breath catching in your throat. You hate that he’s right, hate the way his words resonate deep within you. You had been longing for this for months—years if you were being honest with yourself.

You open your eyes again, meeting his gaze. The fear is still there, the doubts still niggling at the edge of your mind, but now...now they’re overpowered by something else. Hope.

“Lando?”

Lando lets out a quiet hum, keeping his gaze fixed on you. He looks as if he’s almost holding his breath, waiting for you to speak.

“Yeah?” he replies, his voice soft, almost tentative.

“Kiss me please?” you ask your voice barely above a whisper. Lando’s eyes widened a fraction, the shock on his face quickly giving way to a look of breathless awe. He looks at you like he can’t quite believe what you’ve just said.

But then, his lips pull into a smile—a bright, brilliant, beautiful smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he breathes out, and then his hand moves from your cheek to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in towards him. The moment your lips meet his, it's like the world disappears. All the noise, the worries, the doubts, they all melt away, leaving nothing but the sensation of Lando's lips on yours.

His mouth is warm, gentle at first, and then with growing confidence as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer to him. His touch is electrifying, sending shockwaves through your body as his hands pull you onto his lap.

You reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, and tasting the sweetness of his lips. You’ve been craving this for so long—years of yearning compressed into this single moment of release. His hands move under your shirt, skimming over the bare skin of your back, making you shiver against his touch.

The kiss seems to go on forever—a sweet, slow, burning kind of kiss that makes the outside world fade completely. There’s only Lando, only the heat of his body against yours, the pounding of your heart, the way his tongue teases yours, sending sparks straight to your veins.

Finally, you break apart, both of you gasping for air, your foreheads pressed together as you cling to each other. Lando’s eyes are dark, pupils dilated with something primal, something possessive. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispers, breathless, his hand still tracing patterns across your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“I think I might have some idea,” you reply, your breathing still ragged. “You’ve made it pretty damn obvious, you know.”

You can see the hint of a cocky grin on Lando’s face as he ducks his head, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Can you blame me?” he mumbles against your skin, his lips trailing down to your collarbone. “You’re pretty damn irresistible.”

The feel of his teeth, the scrape of his stubble against your skin…it’s driving you insane. Every nerve in your body is on fire, every sense keyed into his touch, his breath, his voice. “I feel like I’ve been going crazy,” Lando murmurs as he nips at your earlobe. “Months of trying to keep my hands off you, trying to pretend I didn’t want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I thought I was going to lose my goddamn mind.”

“Imagine what it’s been like for me,” you reply, your voice hitching as he finds a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear. “Watching you smile and flirt with everyone but me. Listening to you talk about your dates…it was torture.”

Lando pulls back at that, his expression turning apologetic. “God, I’m sorry, darling. But you weren’t exactly making it easy for me either, you know. Looking all cute and pretty and…yeah,” he finishes lamely, his face reddening.

You can’t help but smirk at that. “Not my fault you can’t handle a little temptation,” you tease, poking his chest lightly. Lando huffs, his competitiveness flaring as he nips at your finger. “Oh, I can handle temptation just fine,” he retorts with a hint of a growl. “I’ve been handling it for months, thank you very much.”

He pulls you back onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you, possessive, and suddenly his mouth is on your neck again, his teeth scraping over your pulse point, making you gasp

“You were handling it, were you?” you tease between gasps, arching against him as his tongue trails down the column of your throat. “Doesn’t seem like you were handling it very well…”

His hands slide under your shirt, his touch roaming over your back, your waist, his thumbs dipping under the edge of your bra.

“Trust me, love,” Lando says in a low voice, his hands mapping out every inch of your skin, “You have no idea what kind of self-control I’ve had to exercise. There were times I wanted to pin you against a wall and just…”

His words trail off, but the way his hands grip your hips, the way he tugs you flush against him, make it pretty clear what he wanted to do. “What stopped you, then?” you ask, biting back a moan as his lips find your collarbone, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin. “You seemed to have no problem going after every other girl you wanted…

Lando lets out a soft huff, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. “Because it was never just a one-night thing, darling,” he mutters, almost too quiet to hear. “None of them…they weren’t you.”

His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and when he looks at you, there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that’s almost staggering.

Your heart clenches at his words, the raw honesty in his eyes robbing you of speech. You’d expected flirty charm and cocky banter, but this…this was something else altogether. Lando Norris, the heartthrob of Formula 1, the man who could have any girl he wanted, was admitting to you, just you, that he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted you

“Lando I need you so bad,” you say hoping for something to happen between you. Lando’s breath hitches at your words, his grip on you tightening slightly as if he’s barely holding himself back. “Yeah?” he breathes out, his voice shaky, laced with desire. “How bad, darling?”

“Bad enough that I don’t think I can take it anymore,” you confess, your voice quivering. Everything in you is on fire, every nerve endings craving his touch, his lips, his body. You want him, desperately, urgently, and you can see in his eyes that he wants you just as badly.

Lando curses under his breath, his hands gripping your hips as he holds you against him. You feel the hardness of his arousal against you, and the knowledge nearly makes you dizzy. Lando leans forward, his lips finding your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you, darling,” he murmurs, his voice rough, gravelly with need. “Show me,” you breathe out, your voice hoarse, filled with aching need. “I want to see. I want to know.”

Lando lets out a low moan, his fingers digging into your hips as he turns you so you’re laying on your back on the couch, with him hovering over you, his weight pressing you into the cushion.

His lips are back on your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as his hands slide under your shirt, pushing the fabric up and off, revealing your bare stomach. His mouth follows the path of his hands, leaving a trail of scorching kisses down to the edge of your bra.

Lando looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a silent question in his gaze. You nod, breathless, your body yearning for his touch. Lando hooks a finger under the elastic of your bra, the touch of his knuckles against your skin making you shudder. He tugs the bra off, tossing it onto the floor, and then leans forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

His hands roam over your bare chest, fingers dancing over your sensitive skin, igniting a thousand little fires everywhere he touches.

Lando moves his kisses from your lips down to your chest, his mouth trailing down to the valley between your breasts. You arch against him, your body craving more, needing more of his touch, more of him.

“God, you’re stunning,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice wavering, filled with awe. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long, darling…so damn long…”

“I’m right here,” you gasp out, arching your back as his lips close around one nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. “It’s not just you who’s been going crazy, you know…I’ve wanted this too, god, so many times I thought I was going to go crazy…”

Lando chuckles against your skin, the vibration sending another wave of heat through you. “Good to know I haven’t been the only one going mad,” he murmurs, his mouth trailing down your stomach, his hands roaming over your sides. “I couldn’t focus in a race for weeks just thinking about you like this, darling, about how you’d look, how you’d feel…how you’d taste…”

He kisses the inside of your hip, his facial hair scraping against your skin, and then his thumbs are hooking under the waistband of your sweatpants, beginning to pull them down. You lift your hips to help him tug them off, your heart hammering against your ribs in anticipation.

Lando looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every inch of bare skin. He curses under his breath, his pupils dilated with desire. “God, look at you,” he mutters, running a trembling hand down your side. “You’re so perfect…so goddamn perfect…”

He moves between your legs, his hands gripping your hips, his touch firm but gentle. “All these months, I’d fantasize about this, about you, laid out like this just for me,” he mumbles, leaning down to press kisses along your inner thighs. “I never thought I’d get to see it for real…”

“I never thought I’d let you see,” you reply breathlessly, your hands tangling in his hair. “But I’m all yours now, Lando. All yours. Show me what you’ve been thinking about…”

Lando groans at your words, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip as he positions himself between your legs. His lips are back on your skin, kissing and sucking and nipping, slowly moving up your thigh until you can feel his breath against your aching core.

“You’re sure?” he asks in a gravelly voice, his eyes meeting yours.

You nod, words failing you. Desire is coursing through your veins like a drug, making you dizzy and needy and aching for more. “Please, Lando,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please, I need you…don’t make me wait anymore….”

Lando lets out another low moan, his breath hot against your skin. “God, I love it when you beg,” he mutters, his voice rough with desire. “I’m gonna give you everything you need, darling…everything you want…

His mouth finally finds your core, and it’s almost enough to make you scream. His tongue is doing glorious things, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from bucking against him, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

“L-Lando,” you gasp out brokenly, your hands twisting in his hair, holding on for dear life.

Lando hums against you, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. His grip on your hips tightens as his tongue continues its wicked dance, bringing you closer and closer to the edge

“God, you taste even better than I imagined,” he mutters, his words muffled against your skin. “I want to hear you, darling…want to know I’m making you feel good….”

You can’t help but obey, his words and his touch driving you to the brink of madness. A steady stream of moans and gasps falls from your lips, and Lando groans in response like he’s enjoying your pleasure just as much as you are.

Just when you think you can’t take any more, Lando’s mouth moves away from your core, leaving you feeling bereft, aching with unfulfilled need.

“Why’d you stop?” you gasp out, looking down at him with hazy eyes. Lando grins at you, his lips glistening with your desire.

“Because I’m not done with you yet, darling,” he murmurs as he moves back up your body, his body settling on top of you, his weight pressing you into the couch. “You’re cruel, you know,” you murmur, a shiver running through you as you feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against you. “Leaving me like that…all needy and aching for you.

“You’ll just have to suffer a little while longer,” Lando replies, his voice dripping with feigned innocence, his lips curving into a smirk. He nips at your shoulder, then brushes his lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Just think about how good it’ll feel when I finally give you what you want, love…how good I’m going to make you feel…”

You whine in frustration, arching against him, your body desperate for release. Lando laughs against your skin, his hands roaming over your body, igniting a thousand little fires everywhere he touches.

“Look at you, all needy for me,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly with desire. “God, I love seeing you like this…all desperate and begging…I could get addicted to it, you know.”

You’re helpless against him, your body putty in his skillful hands. Every touch, every press of his lips is sending electricity through your veins, lighting up your nerves. You’re so close to the edge, clinging to it desperately as Lando continues to drive you wild.

“Please, Lando, please,” you plead, your voice breathless, desperate. “I need you…I need you so much…I need…I need…”

“What do you need, love?” Lando murmurs, his fingers tracing a path up your inner thigh, dancing ever closer to where you need him most. “You’ll have to use your words, darling…I want to hear you say it…”

You let out a strangled moan, your body quivering with tension. “I need…I need you to touch me,” you finally manage to gasp out, your voice thick with need. “Please, Lando…make me feel good…I can’t take anymore…I can’t…”

Lando lets out a low growl at your words, his hand finally moving to where you need him most. His fingers dip between your folds, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and stroking it lightly, making you shudder in ecstasy.

“You’re so damn wet, love,” he mutters, his voice rough with desire. “So goddamn responsive for me ... .I've just been touching you for a few minutes and you’re already falling apart in my arms “Feels…feels so good,” you gasp out, your body arching against his touch. Your senses are completely overwhelmed, your whole world narrowed down to the feeling of Lando’s fingers, the sound of his voice, the feel of his weight on top of you. Everything else is distant, hazy, and insignificant compared to him.

“That’s it, darling,” Lando murmurs, his fingers moving more quickly, his touch firmer. “Let go…I’ve got you…I’m right here…I’m gonna take care of you.”

His other hand is cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his eyes fixed on yours, dark, possessive, intense.

“I need to feel you,” you gasp out between moans, your body clenching tight around his fingers. “Please, Lando…I want you…I need you….”

Lando’s breath hitches at your words, his eyes darkening even further. “God, you have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice shaking. “You’re goddamn perfect, you know that? Perfect and mine. All mine…”

“More,” you murmur, your body pleading for release. “Please, Lando, more…I need more….”

Lando’s thumb is circling over your clit, his fingers moving deeper, faster, driving you to the brink of insanity. “Is this enough, darling?” he asks, his voice rough but his touch still gentle. “Or do you need even more? Tell me what you want, love…I’ll give you whatever you need.

“You.” The word comes out barely coherent, but you manage to force it out in a gasp. “I want you. I need you. All of you. I can’t take this anymore, Lando. I can’t…please…please…please….”

Lando’s eyes widen at your words, a guttural moan escaping his lips. “Christ, darlin’,” he mutters, his voice tight with control, “you keep talking like that, and that’ll be over before it even starts.”

“Then don’t make me wait anymore,” you beg, your body trembling with need. “Please, Lando, I don’t think I can take it…I need to feel you…I need you now…”

Lando’s fingers continue their torturous rhythm, his other hand holding your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. You can see the struggle for control in his eyes, the tension in his body, the barely contained desire. He’s just as desperate as you are, just as needy

“Are you sure, darlin?” he asks, his voice strained with self-control. “Once I give you what you want, I won’t be able to stop. I won’t be able to hold back anymore…I’ll take you right here and now, just like you want…are you sure you’re ready for that…?”

You’ve never been more certain of anything in your life. You nod, the word tumbling out of you, pleading, desperate. “Yes. Yes. God, Lando…yes, I’m ready. More than ready. I want you, all of you. Now. Please…”

A guttural moan escapes Lando’s lips at your words, the sound raw and primal. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, darlin,” he mutters, his hands moving to your hips, gripping them as he positions himself between your legs. “But…goddammit…I’m not going to fight it anymore…”

He leans down, his lips claiming yours in a fierce, possessive kiss, his body pressed fully against yours. You can feel his need, his desire, his desperation mirrored in every movement, in every slide of his tongue against yours. His hands shift to your thighs, spreading your legs wider, aligning your bodies perfectly

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he mutters between kisses, his voice rough, hoarse with lust. “So goddamn perfect…all laid out for me…all mine.

His hips press against yours, the heat, the hardness of his arousal making you gasp against his lips. “I need you, darlin,” he mutters, his hands skimming up your sides, his touch sending sparks of heat through you. “I need you so damn much it hurts…I can’t hold back anymore…I can’t…”

“Then don’t,” you whisper, your body arching against his, pleading for him. “Please, Lando…don’t hold back anymore…I’m all yours…please…”

Lando lets out another guttural moan, his control finally snapping. “God, darlin, the things you do to me…goddamn…”

He shifts his weight, positioning himself at your entrance, the tension in his body like a coiled spring. “You sure about this, love? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you murmur, your body aching with need, your heart filled with a certainty you’ve never felt before. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, Lando. I want you, goddammit, I need you…I’m yours…please…please…please….”

Your words are like a match to a fuse, igniting the last shred of his control. Lando lets out a guttural moan, his hands gripping your hips, his body tense, trembling with the effort of restraining himself. He takes a shaky breath, his blue eyes meeting yours, dilated with desire.

“You’re mine, darlin,” he repeats, his voice a hoarse whisper. “All mine.”

And with that, he finally surrenders to his need, his control shattered. His body sheathes itself within you, filling you, stretching you, claiming you in a way that’s primal and possessive and perfect. A moan tears from your throat, your body arching against his, sparks of pleasure dancing through you, igniting every nerve.

Lando lets out a guttural groan, his body shuddering against yours. “God, you feel so good,” he gasps out, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “So damn perfect…you’re going to be the death of me, darlin

Your world narrows down to the sensation of him within you, his body moving against yours, the feel of his hands, his mouth, his body on and around you. Your whole world is Lando: his breath against your skin, the taste of his neck, the feel of his body moving against yours.

“God, yes,” you gasp out between moans, your body meeting his every thrust, your hands tracing over his back, feeling the shifting muscles beneath your palms. “Lando…Lando…God, you feel so good…so perfect…

"Oh, lord have mercy-" you gasped your eyes rolling at the back of your head.

"Oh, he had plenty when he made you. My. fucking. Friend." Lando says between thrusts.

Lando’s words are like fuel to the fire, igniting a heat within you that’s almost primal, almost feral. You cling to him, your body quivering, your nails digging into his skin. He lets out another guttural moan, his body trembling with the effort of holding back, his restraint paper-thin.

"I don’t think I’m going to last much longer, darlin," he gasps out, his voice rough, strained. "You feel too good…too perfect…”

"Just let go, Lando," you breathe out, your voice hoarse, a plea, a command, a plea. "I want you to. Come for me…show me how good I make you feel…"

Lando’s body shudders at your words, his control finally, blissfully breaking. “Goddammit, darlin, you have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice a hoarse growl. “You drive me wild, love…god damn…I can’t…I can’t…”

He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes locked on yours, his body trembling, taut, quivering with tension. “Are you close, darlin?” he gasps out, his voice tight, strangled.

You nod, your body clenching around him, your hands clinging to his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. “I…I’m so close, Lando,” you manage to gasp out, your eyes meeting his, filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

Lando’s eyes darken at your words, a possessive, primal spark igniting in his gaze. “That’s it, darlin,” he murmurs, his body moving faster, harder, deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin. “Let go for me. Let go for me…I want to feel you…I want to feel you come undone in my arms…”

You’re helpless to resist his pleas, your body quivering, ready to burst. His voice, his touch, his body, it’s all too much, too intense. You’re teetering on the edge, so close to the precipice, hanging on by a mere thread.

“L-Lando…” you manage to moan out, your voice shaky, breathless. “I’m…I’m…I’m…”

Lando’s body trembles with the effort of holding back, his restraint hanging on by a thread. “That’s it, darlin,” he gasps out, his voice ragged, tight. “Let go. Let go, darling. I’ve got you…I’ve got you”

The tension finally snaps, your body seizing up, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you like a wall of fire. You cry out, your nails digging into Lando’s back, your body shuddering with the force of your release.

Lando lets out a guttural moan at the feeling, his body tensing, his hips stuttering, his control finally, blissfully broken. “Goddammit, darlin,” he mutters, his voice a hoarse gasp. “That’s it…that’s it…I’m right there with you, darlin,” he gasps out, his body shuddering against yours, his release crashing over him like a tsunami. “Goddamn…you’ve got me completely wrecked, love…I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to recover.”

You cling to him, both of you trembling in the aftermath, holding onto each other for dear life. The room is filled with the sounds of your panting breaths, the thump of your heartbeats, the rustle of the sheets beneath you.

Lando’s arms wrap around you, his body pressing against yours, holding you tightly to him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He’s still shaking, still quivering with the aftershocks of the pleasure you’ve just experienced together.

"Goddamn, darlin," he mutters, his voice low, rough. "You wreck me. Every time. You completely wreck me."

You let out a soft, contented sigh, your body relaxing into his embrace. “That was…that was intense,” you murmur, your fingers tracing lazy circles over his back. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Lando lets out a soft, hoarse chuckle at your words, the sound vibrating against your skin. “That’s what I was aiming for, darlin,” he mutters, his lips brushing over your neck. “I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a few days.”

“You succeeded,” you say, a smile curving your lips, your body still tingling, still humming with the aftermath. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be the same after that.”

Lando lets out a soft, possessive moan at your words, his arms tightening around you. “Good,” he mutters, his lips moving over your skin, “because I plan on doing that to you again and again, darlin. Over and over. Until you can’t even remember your own name.”

You let out a soft, contented sigh, a shiver of anticipation running through you. “Is that a promise?” you murmur, your voice soft, sultry.

Lando lets out a low rumble of affirmation, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind your ear. “It’s a promise, darlin,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m going to keep you in bed for days, love. Until you forget everything except my name.”

You shiver at the possessive, primal note in his voice, the promise in his words. “You’re going to wear me out,” you murmur, your body already stirring with renewed desire.

Lando lets out another low rumble, his hands beginning to wander over your body, reigniting the fire between you. “That’s the plan, darlin,” he mutters, his lips moving down your neck, “to wear you out and then wear you out some more. I can’t get enough of you, love. I never will.”

You let out a soft, wanton moan, your body arching against his, your heart swelling with a mixture of pleasure and desire. “You’re insatiable,” you murmur, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"Only with you, darling . Only you,”

#lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x female reader #formula one x you #lando norris one shot #lando norris imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 smut #f1 one shot #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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yanderedrabbles · 1 day ago

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omg I'm drooling over the Yandere Pirate fic. But it's kinda got me curious - who do you think is the worst guy you've written? Who's the absolute biggest bastard?

(On the other end of the spectrum, I think Boyfriend yandere is still the sweetest)

Hoo boy have I written some awful men. I think Yandere! Pirate is pretty terrible because he masquerades his own lust and cruelty as kindness but he's nowhere near the worst. Let's rank 'em.

5. Yandere! Stalker/Cop is a nice guy most of the time, and as a boyfriend he's pretty great. But it's his stalker persona that gets him on this list. He's left your pet's head in a box for you to find. He's broken into your house more times than he can remember. He's threatened and frightened you, all for the sake of getting you in his arms.

4. Yandere! Cowboy is mean, possessive and overly territorial. Instead of asking you out for a dance or bringing you flowers, his idea of courting is pinning you against a wall and finger fucking you until you're shaking and crying and begging him to be gentle. He uses the expectations of society to force you into being his wife. No one will want you now that he's taken your virginity, you know that don't you sugar? And your daddy will be horrified to learn you've been fooling around out in the barn like a slut. You don't want him to find out, do ya?

3. Yandere! State Trooper gets off on power, no two ways about it. He tries to be nice about it at first, make you rely on him by getting rid of all those pesky speeding tickets. But when you don't fall for it, he gets awfully nasty. Police brutality is one word for it, and manipulative malpractice is another. And the worst part? His buddies on the force will always cover for him. If you ever get brave enough to take him to court, you'll find his body cam footage is totally scrubbed. And his dash cam just happened to be malfunctioning on the night in question. You're trapped by the long (and buff) arms of the law.

2. Yandere! Greek Champion is going to the worst place in the underworld for what he did to you. And even knowing that, he'd do it again. He has no fear of the Gods, no respect or reverence. He's a man willing to fuck a virgin priestess on the floor of her temple, right in front of the holy shrine. You think that sort of man will ever be kind? Or noble? No way baby.

And without further ado, the worst man I've written to date is....

Yandere! Cyberpunk Riot Control Officer. You knew it was coming. I knew it was coming. He wins this contest hands down (or tied behind your back preferably). Anal without prep or lube. Fucking you with the baton he was using to crack skulls a few hours ago. Manipulating riot laws just to have his way with you. He's an awful guy but even worse, he's the product of a State just as cruel and depraved as he is. How else could he get away with doing this to you?

(And they aren't even the worst I've thought of - more despicable bastards coming soon).

#Coincidence that all the cops are on the naughty list?#yandere #x reader #yanderecore #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #male yandere #reader insert #yandere oc

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daengtokki · 3 days ago

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part eight // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 13k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: self harm, hallucinations, monsters(?), medication mention, pregnancy, fluff...and a new OC

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

COMMENTS: Hi guys, I'm kinda back. I hope you all enjoy part eight! We still have a long way to go. Please reblog and help support me and my work! I love and appreciate you all very much ♡ ˎˊ˗

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST AND TAGLIST ]

TAGLIST: @kkamismom12 / @r0tt1n / @heluvschibi / @feckinbecky / @missystay / @seungluvr / @babrieeee / @curiouscocoabean / @feelikecinderella / @carpioassists / @soulsbbg / @san-axa0 / @vixensss / @keiizzx / @xyliskz / @reignessance / @velvetmoonlght / @ghostedgameplays

It’s not as bad as you thought it would be. It doesn’t look quite like how it sounded when it hit the floor, but each side of the music box separated from itself on impact, and now it’s a sad shell of its former self. You can fix it, though—you have to fix it.

You lower yourself for a closer look, making sure to avoid the sparkling glass covering so much of the floor. The glimmer of something else catches your eye, so you move carefully, pinch the silver chain between your fingers, and pull it from its tiny pool of water. “Can I wear this until it’s in one piece again?”

An odd request, maybe, but Seungmin doesn’t bat an eye at it. “You wanna wear St. Michael? Are you feeling guilty again, or…” he pulls his shirt over his head, sweat soaked from his workout—disposing of the body. “Feeling the snares of the devil?”

“Should I be feeling him?” That wasn’t a yes, but you clasp it around your neck anyway.

He smiles at you and shrugs.

“You’re no devil”

“No? You’re just blinded by me. Biased.”

“True. What did you do to me?”

His face falls in confusion. “Nothing. I mean…I always wondered if—“

“Minnie, I’m joking.” But he still has that worried look in his eyes. It’s been a while since you’ve seen it. “What have you always wondered?”

Now he seems reluctant to finish. Seungmin grabs his clean towel and shorts and looks toward the door, but he turns to you again. “…if I did do something to you that night. It’s silly.”

“When I passed out?”

“When you died,” he corrects you. “You were dead, no pulse. One minute and…forty seconds.”

“You never told me that”

“I never told you how long you were gone?”

“And that I had no pulse”

He takes a few steps toward you. “No, I guess I didn’t. I thought you knew.”

Seungmin touches the medallion on your chest, examines it, avoids looking directly at you. He’s thinking, you assume, about whatever it is he believes happened when you died for one minute and forty seconds. His hands are warm on your skin, and you’re already craving his touch again, but his mind seems to be somewhere else entirely.

“I was wearing it that night. Usually, I take it off when I go to bed, but I fell asleep reading.”

“What night?” You take his hand in yours, but he slips away and starts toward the door. “Seungmin, what night?” The air starts to feel thick with tension. Seungmin’s mind still turns so quickly sometimes, but not this quickly.

“Can we talk after I shower?”

/ / /

The living room fills with the scent of almond blossom tea and Seungmin’s steamy, citrusy shower. He spent a long time in there—washing away his kill, thinking of a way to tell you his story, wondering if it’s time. It has to be. Seungmin knows you’ve earned every truth he has to give. It’s the least he can do. He stares absently at the floor with his mug cupped in both hands. “The night my mom and stepdad died.”

Your mind goes every which way, wondering what direction his story is going to go in. “They both died the same night?”

“Yes. I should have told you this when you opened up to me months ago.”

“No, not if you weren’t ready”

It feels so complicated in his head, but telling you everything takes no more than ten minutes, even through the tears that eventually start falling. And in that ten minutes, you end up on the couch, Seungmin curled up in your arms for comfort. Still, he left out a few details, like her voice starting right there in the greenhouse; his trip into the woods hoping to be taken by the thing that lived there—still lives there.

He melts into you even more. “That’s worse than I could have ever imagined, my poor sweet Minnie.”

The ground in Uljin is sour, except for where his mother rests, and everything about your visit there starts to make sense. The shed is the rotting corpse of his stepfather, and its arms still reach far enough to hurt Seungmin. The garden he and his mother created; the greenhouse, and every single everlasting flower that it holds seems to keep him here, reaching a little further and giving you who you have in your arms.

“I’m so glad you made it through.”

“Did I? Sometimes it feels like I died back there…” he stops and sniffles, wipes his cheeks, “in the woods.”

“You didn’t. You’re here with me, like you’re supposed to be.”

Seungmin is exhausted, physically and mentally. His eyes close, and his body relaxes as he puts his arms around you again.

“The woods where he left you. The same ones from your dream last night?”

He mumbles a yes.

“The ones we drove through…I didn’t like those woods”

“There’s nothing to like about them”

“They felt haunted”

“That’s one way of describing it. They were like that long before I put him the ground, and now it’s worse. The dirt he’s decaying in hates me just as much as he did.”

“He’s still there? Is she?”

A long blank stare, followed by a slow nod. “Yes.” Seungmin looks at you, still so full of secrets, but he’s running out of energy to keep going.

“What did the rest of your family think happened?”

“That he killed her, and disappeared”

Now it’s your turn to close your eyes and relax in his embrace. Just learning about his past is tiring, and overwhelming. How could a nine year old come out of that? Seungmin did, but it damaged him so severely he can no longer live a normal life.

“I was sick before any of that happened, though,” he starts again. “Umma knew I was seeing and hearings, but she didn’t know what to do, except give me this…” He touches the necklace again, presses his lips to your chest, “and pray, read to me, surround me with flowers. But I was so much worse after he left me in the woods. And he didn't believe I needed a doctor."

For the first time in a long time, you’re lost for words. There’s not much you can say right now to bring him the comfort he needs, but your touch might help. You kiss his forehead, and rub his back until he lifts his head to look at you. He just stares, searching your face for something; waiting for more, maybe. Does he still think the things he tells you will scare you off?

“It’s genetic, isn’t it?” He asks.

“Yeah, I think so”

“So…the chances of one of them being sick—”

You knead your fingers into his neck and squeeze before he finishes. If only you could make this one worry go away. “They’ll be okay. We’ll worry about that when…if…the time comes.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“You’ve been seeing things, too. Has that ever happened before?”

“No”

/ / /

Why are you seeing things? The thought hadn’t occurred to you until now, because everything from the last several months has been some level of strange. The dreams felt like dreams, even after you discovered they were echoes of Seungmin’s nightmares, and even how easy and beautiful it felt to fall for him didn’t seem unusual. The truth is, that’s never happened to you...nobody has ever been as close to you as he is. The connection is preternatural. If there were ever time to use that word, this is it. “No, I’ve never even seen a ghost. Seeing that dog under the bed is the first time something like that has happened.”

“So, maybe it was really there”

You shake your head. “If so, it had to have slipped into a tear in the fabric of space…a wormhole. Or it’s just magic.”

“Like Bulgae”

“Bulgae?”

“Mm, they’re just mythical creatures, a fairytale I guess. The fire dogs that chase…oh,” he rubs his chin with his knuckles, and his eyes wonder around the room. They land on the window, where the quarter moon stares in. “They chase the sun and the moon. Do you think there’s a tear in space under my bed?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, Minnie”

“Are you up for a long drive tomorrow?”

Seungmin doesn’t like going home—you assume, and he doesn’t pretend it’s easy. He does it as if it’s a necessary pilgrimage to a partially sacred place. He has to fight through the oppressive evil to get to the little bit of warmth still existing there, and he’s succeeded every time so far. But this is only your second time accompanying him.

“You can sleep if you’re comfortable,” his fingers run down your arm and wrap around your wrist. “I can see how tired you are.”

Yesterday was exhausting, and your dreams kept you up most of the night. The dog returned, just the white one, but it didn’t try to hurt you. It didn’t even look at you. You watched it from the balcony as it struggled to reach what you assume was some representation of the moon; a glowing blue sphere in the middle of the city, far too low to be any celestial body. Upon waking up, you decided it had been the weirdest dream you’ve had in a long list of weird dreams.

“Okay.” You don’t fight him, or the overwhelming urge to close your burning eyes. “I’ll try.”

When you wake, the car is parked, and you’re alone. Seungmin kept the engine running, the music low, and the doors locked, and when he returns several minutes later, you’re already sound asleep again. He gets in as quietly and gently as possible with the bag full of snacks he’s hoping you’ll like, but for now, he’s happy to see you sleeping so soundly. And that’s what he does for a little while longer—he watches you, listens to you breathing, and wonders if you’re in the middle of a dream. He hopes not. Or if you are, it’s a good one. Neither of you seem to have much luck with that.

You groan and shift, and Seungmin can’t help but reach out for you. He swipes his fingertips across your forehead, tucks some hair behind your ear.

“Where are we?”

“Almost there”

“Did you get me something?” Seungmin digs around in the bag and holds it out for you. “Oh a triangle, thank you!”

“Mhm, if you eat two you can have your cookies”

“Did you get yourself something besides coffee?”

“I’m not very hungry”

When he eats, he eats well, but sometimes he goes far too long without. “You didn’t eat before we left.” You don’t push it, though. The trip might be the reason for his lack of appetite, so the sooner you start heading home, the better. “Do you wanna bite? Just a little one.” Seungmin watches you unwrap it, and when you hold it up to his lips, he opens up and takes a much bigger bite than you expect. “Good boy."

He stops chewing, and a slow smile starts to appear. “Hm?”

“Oh…uhm”

He covers his mouth as he finishes chewing and swallowing, but as soon as it’s down, he laughs softly behind his hand. “Say it again.” Seungmin leans forward and takes another bite.

“Good…” you kiss the top of his head, and he laughs despite his mouthful of tuna and rice, “good boy.”

“Thank you,” he washes it down with his coffee and points to the remaining piece, “your turn, both of them.“

“Can I have a sip of your coffee?”

Seungmin smiles again, pretends to think…he never actually says no to you. “Yeah, one little sip.”

The road you’re on isn’t one you recognize, but the trees and hills are very much what you remember from your December trip. It’s so much different now—it’s brighter, and more colorful. The blue sky makes everything look bigger, and much less claustrophobic, and you hope seeing it like this is a little easier on him. Flowers are blooming all over the sides of the roads, and at the edge of the woods you pass; in gardens and open fields. His backyard will at least be dry and warm this time around. The forest is no different. It’s oppressive and dark. Eerily quiet, except for a few bugs chirping in the darkest corners. You roll down the window and smell the air, and you decide it might be the only nice thing about it.

“What was that?” You turn the volume down on the radio and listen again.

“I didn’t hear anything”

You wonder if he did, and he’s just pretending he didn’t. “That…” An unmistakable rumble, like the echo of a car engine in the distance, but not quite. It cuts out abruptly, and that’s the last time you hear it. When you look at him again, his face is blank, and maybe a little bit pale, so you drop it.

When you finally, truly arrive, you’re not sure if the car will actually make it up the slight incline to park next to the house. It’s not dry at all. The surrounding area is still covered in a wet muddy mess, almost as bad as it was in December…but somehow, Seungmin makes it.

“You okay?”

“Huh…oh yeah, I’m good. Just not wearing the right shoes for this.”

“Most of the area stays pretty nasty until the snowmelt dries, and then it gets muddy again as soon as the rainy season starts.”

His door pops open, “stay there.” He rounds the car and opens yours, “okay,” and kneels down.

“Minnie, I can get a little muddy”

“I know, but you don’t have to. C’mon.”

All you can picture in your head is him slipping, falling, and you going down with him, but then you remember how easily he managed this ground last time. Seungmin isn’t clumsy on his feet, only in his head, and only sometimes. He reaches back for you and wiggles his fingers. “Okay, okay. Brace yourself.”

“For what?” He grunts when you put all of your weight on his back, but he still stands without a problem. “You should be heavier than this by now, right?”

“I’ve gained eight pounds since I moved in with you”

“Do you gain less with girls, and more with boys?”

“I’m not sure, remind me to google it”

“That seems like a silly question when I say it out loud”

“It’s not. Is that what we’re having?”

“Hm?”

Maybe it was a slip-up, or maybe he’s dying to finally tell you. “Girls? Is that what we’re having?”

“I thought you didn’t wanna know”

Part of you does, especially now that you’ve started working on the nursery—just another step toward it becoming your new reality. “Do you think the tech was right about it?”

“She seemed confident, and she’s been looking at ultrasound babies for a long time.” Seungmin kneels again, and you put your feet down on the concrete walkway outside the greenhouse.

“Have you been thinking about names?”

His little smile answers for you, even though he shakes his head. “Not much…not really.”

Warm air and the heady scent of a dozen different flowers hits you when the door swings open. Your eyes water from it, but you blink it away as he grabs your hand and pulls you in with him.

“Tell me one you like”

“A name I like…hm, there is one, but it might be too…me”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing”

“Ha-neul”

“Haneul…it sounds nice when you say it. What does it mean?”

“Sky”

“Oh, that’s perfect. I like it, too.”

He stares at the flowers, and his grip on your fingers tightens. “I can’t think of another name to compliment it, though. So I’m not sure.”

“Maybe it’s too early for this part”

Seungmin pulls you with him toward the purple flowers, and when you’re close enough to be filled with their scent and only their scent, he lowers himself and kneels in the much dryer soil. When you don’t immediately follow, he squeezes and tugs a little harder. It still feels like an intrusion into his most personal moments, but he wants you here, so you lower yourself next to him and hold tight to his arm.

Being here now is different—she’s there, right below you, beneath the purple bushes whose roots certainly reach as deeply as she’s buried. Seungmin’s mother exists in the flowers in a way you never thought possible, and that’s why he keeps them close. This is you finally meeting her, you think.

“Umma?”

He waits, and you’re perfectly still and quiet as the moments pass. And then a few more moments. It’s getting late, so you begin to hear the growing sound of insects crying in their hiding spots, but nothing else. Eventually, too much time and silence passes, so you squeeze his hand and look at him. “Seungmin?” You can see the stain of a tear on his cheek. He’s biting down hard on his lip to keep some composure, but it isn’t working very well. “What is it?”

“She’s not answering”

“Try again…say something else”

He nods and takes a deep breath. “Umma, nae mal deullyeoyo? Please say something.” The sound of his shaking voice hurts. You know there’s still no reply, even before he releases you and spreads his palms out over the ground—what you don’t know is if this is the first time she’s been silent, and it’s not a good time to ask. If it is, you can only assume it’s because of his Haldol. Seungmin hasn’t missed a dose in over a month. It’s taken hold, and the sound of his mother’s voice is no longer there. This might not be the best side effect. “Where did you go?” He leans forward until his forehead touches the cold ground, and your hand slides beneath his shirt at the same time. It’s warm, and it’s soft, and as much as he wants to scream, your touch helps keep him calm. A slow, deep breath, and his lungs fill with the scent of earth and heliotrope. She’s still here, he thinks. “I know you’re still here.”

Your hand slides across his back until he rises again, but he’s dizzy, and a sour, nauseous feeling starts to rise in his stomach and throat. He turns and crawls away just in time. Seungmin vomits, coughs, vomits again…or tries to. Nothing comes up, but his body keeps telling him to try.

“She is, Min. Just like last time, and the time before that.”

He isn’t sure what you’re saying, but he hears your voice despite the muffled ringing in his ears. It helps. Seungmin isn’t sure he could handle the silence alone. “I’m sorry.” A fistful of dirt comes with him as he stands, and he tosses it aimlessly towards the mess. “You heard it in the woods, right? That sound.”

“The rumble?”

“Yeah…the rumble”

“What was it?”

“Something umma told me was just in my head”

If it’s in yours, too, that still doesn’t mean it’s real. Seungmin is giving you more than just his dreams.

“Maybe she’ll talk to you”

“Me? No. Why would she talk to me?”

Seungmin shrugs, but he has his reasons. “Just hoping, I guess.” He wonders if your strange connection exists in this way, even if he can no longer hear her. You’re seeing things, and you’re dreaming like him…so maybe he hasn’t completely lost his connection to his mother.

You turn away and carefully lower yourself to the ground, but you’re not prepared for this—you have enough trouble talking to tangible people in front of you. Nothing happens right away. Just the sound of the bugs, and the wind picking up and pushing against the glass panels. The sun is finally setting behind the trees, and the orange glow coming in looks like fire. “Susie, are you there? Your son wants to speak to you.” All you can hear is the sound of Seungmin sniffling and pacing behind you. “I would like to talk to you, too” The wind pushes harder against the greenhouse, and the lonely wind chime catches it and starts to sing. It slows down, and you look away for a moment to watch the tops of the trees stop swaying in the distance. “Is that you?”

“Did she…?” Seungmin asks, but a moment later, another gust hits, and a glass panel cracks from the pressure. “Oh no.” He heads for it to inspect the damage, leaving you alone with the flowers as you try with everything you have to hear something. “It might be okay,” he says, mostly to himself as his finger runs over the superficial crack. The greenhouse has survived the elements for a very long time, and one little crack is not going to bring it down.

“She loves you very much”

His arm slides around your waist, and his hand spreads out across your stomach. There’s nothing there to see yet, even with twins—but you’re much softer where his fingers knead and squeeze. “You heard her?”

Did you? You don’t remember hearing anything except the wind—no voice in your ear, or in your head, just the overwhelming desire to tell him. “I’m not sure, but…she does, Minnie. She loves you, all of you, the good and the bad.”

“I was excited to tell her about the twins”

It hadn’t occurred to you that part of this trip was to tell her the big news…that he’s going to be a father. During the first trip here, he was quietly joyous about simply not being alone, and that also just occurred to you—he was still brand new to you. His happiness is still so lost in him sometimes, buried under too much grief and damage. “Tell her...” You grab and pull him so he’s kneeling next to you, but you’re not sure if he’ll actually try to speak again. If he thinks it, that’ll be good enough.

Umma? I’m sorry I can’t hear you.

He waits again, just in case there’s an answer this time.

I’m going to be a father. Well, I guess I already am, but…they might be born in September, just like me. We’re having—oh, I can’t say it out loud. It’s still a secret.

“No, you can tell us. I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” Seungmin whispers, and he smiles when you nod at him. You weren’t sure you’d get another one out of him for a while.

We’re having boys…identical boys, umma. I’ll be the father dad didn’t get the chance to be. I’ll make you both proud.

The hanok, for as long as it’s been sitting here uninhabited (“fifteen years,” Seungmin tells you, “it was like everyone but me just forgot it existed.”), is still in surprisingly good shape. The outside is somewhat neglected, but it’s solid, and the inside…you weren’t expecting to see the inside, but Seungmin had the key in his never-ending collection of keys...the inside is nice, but dusty and a little damp, and it almost looks like someone still lives here. There are clean dishes sitting on the counter, like they were almost put away in the cupboard above them. The faded curtain is pulled open just enough to see down the pathway that leads to the greenhouse, and…two pairs of shoes sit neatly by the door you walked through. A pair of sneakers, and next to them, a pair of rain boots.

“Seungmin, are those…were those yours?”

He looks to the spot you’re staring at, and nods. “Yes, they were mine.”

“Can I see your bedroom?”

The afternoon sun is pouring in through his window, and even with the curtains closed, it filters in and casts a warm glow over everything. His yo, rolled up and covered; a desk still holding a stack of books; the bookshelf, and a chest you can only imagine is full of whatever this little boy liked to play with. Now you’re hit with another realization, even though you knew…he really was just a baby when this nightmare happened to him. Seungmin sat at this desk and practiced his spelling and multiplying, and in the same breath, he had to kill his stepfather to save his own life.

“I saw this in one of my dreams”

“What did you see?”

“In the park, when I first told you I was dreaming about you…one of them was this, I think. Your window, the bedroom.” Seungmin passes by and pulls at the curtains, and the light is almost too bright as your eyes adjust. “We were laying in your bed, and the sun was bright just like this, but it must have been summer. There were flowers outside, yellow and purple flowers. That was a nice dream. You kissed me before I woke up.”

“I did?” He leans in quickly and places a kiss on your lips, “like that?” He tries again when you shake your head, this time right between your eyes. “There?”

“Nope, try again”

“Hm, how about…” a soft one against your temple, but he huffs when you shake your head again. “Where does dream you want a kiss?” His eyes scan every part of you as he thinks, and eventually, he grins and goes for your neck.

“Up a little…perfect.” In your head, you’re doing your best to remember every detail of that dream, but you can’t. It’s long gone. “What was that? Thunder?”

The sun is still shining, but on closer inspection he can see the dark clouds in the distance, slowly moving above the trees. “I think so.” Seungmin forgot how oppressive the view is from here…the darkness of the forest in front of him, even in the daylight, makes him uncomfortable. “I’ll check the heat, and the water. We can spend the night if…” the rain starts almost immediately. “If that’s okay.”

“Here? I don’t mind, but only if you’re comfortable staying.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Actually, since I met you, up until now has been the longest I’ve gone without visiting, or cleaning up. It’s hard, and as many bad memories as this place holds…it’s still all I have of her.”

“Then yeah, let’s make ourselves comfortable here and get a good nights sleep.”

Once the heat is on and moving through the floors, the house comes back to life in a whole new way—it’s warm, and it’s cozy. This, plus the few good memories…it’s easy to see why he hasn’t completely abandoned the house. Seungmin begins to hum as he walks around lighting candles, and once he’s satisfied with his placement, he turns the lights low and joins you on the doubled up mattress in the middle of the floor. “Did you have enough to eat?”

“Mhm”

“Do you need more water?”

“No, I’m good. I’m comfortable.”

He touches your neck and pulls you close for a kiss. “Warm enough?”

More of the dream comes rushing back to you. “Perfect. I’m with you, I couldn’t be better.”

“Yeah…so you still like me?”

The face you make sends him into a fit of quiet laughter, and it might be the biggest smile you’ve seen him crack since he saw the twins two weeks ago. Seungmin’s never given you a good full-body laugh. It’s a beautiful sound, and an unusual one, because it’s so new to you. You can help but laugh with him. “Yeah, I think I still like you.”

“Good. If I think too much about us only knowing each other for four months, I start to wonder—“

“Don’t wonder”

“Don’t?”

“Trust me when I say I’ve found the one. So…boys?”

He smiles just as wide again, and the sparkle in his eyes tells you everything he wants to say. “Boys.” He nods and whispers. “I hope it makes it more real for you, and you’ll be happy with so many boys running around.”

“It does, and I am. I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

It’s too warm eventually, and when you start to kick off the fluffy blanket, you know something is missing. Your leg slides across the mattress, and your blurry eyes pop open to his empty pillow. “Minnie?” You sit up and realize just how warm the house is—you rub a hand across your chest and wipe away the sweat starting to gather there. Maybe he got up to turn the heat down, or crack a window. “Seungmin?” You know you’ll have to get up at some point, so you just get it over with now. Maybe he’s in the bathroom. Why is your heart starting to race? Nothing is happening, nothing is wrong, so stop panicking. Your feet hit the floor, and the panic gets a little bit worse. Nausea works its way through you.

The bathroom is empty, and his bedroom is, too. The only other bedroom, his mother’s, is also empty, but you weren’t expecting him to be in there. There’s nowhere else except outside, and it’s still raining. The car is there, you can see it from the kitchen window, and when you finally head for the door, you can see it hasn’t been pulled shut far enough to lock. He is outside. You open the door and look out into the dark fog. Why would he come out at this hour?

“Seungmin! Dammit, you better answer me!”

Just the patter of rain on the roof and the windows. Nothing else. You almost go for your shoes, but putting them on seems pointless. All you’ll do is ruin them, and walking around in wet, muddy shoes as you search for him sounds much less appealing than doing it in your bare feet. The first step onto the grass is unpleasant, but after a few more, it’s fine, and you walk as quickly as you can toward the greenhouse.

hey

“Minnie…Min, was that you?”

You heard it, even through the rain, but he’s not in there. Seungmin is definitely not in there, and you don’t want to get any closer than absolutely necessary. The shed looks even worse than it did last time, and just opening the door feels like it could be disastrous. A few loose nails and pieces of rotting wood in the right spots; the whole thing comes crashing down around you. But maybe that would bring Seungmin out from wherever he’s hiding. “You in there, Min?” You whisper and close the gap, reach for the chain, and pull. “Why would you be?” It creaks so painfully loud, and the inside is dark and empty, just like you expected. “Greenhouse…greenhouse.” The door slams shut as you try not to break out into a run, and every hair on your body stands up.

The greenhouse is a welcome reprieve. It’s warm inside, but just like the shed, it appears to be empty. “Fuck…Seungmin! Where are you?” You’re wet, and starting to shiver, and the mud has covered you up to your ankles already. “You’re gonna be mad at me for coming out here…but, but…”

Sweetie

You spin around, looking for whoever is clearly speaking to you. “Who’s there? Seungmin why are you doing this?”

my little boy isn’t here

“Susie?”

he doesn’t know what he does when he comes here, and he’s doing it again…my poor sweet puppy

“Where is he? Where did he go?”

the forest

“He went into the woods?” The nausea worsens when you think about him lying in a clearing somewhere, lost in the dark. “Why would he do that?”

There’s no more voice. Susie goes quiet. “Okay, I have to find him.”

How, you have no idea, but before you even attempt to walk further than the greenhouse, you run back to the house and throw open every closet. Most of them are still full of their things, so finding a raincoat is easy, and finding his mother’s rain boots is a relief after the mess you made all the way up to your knees. You clean up before slipping into them, and they fit well enough. The raincoat is a little small, but not enough to keep you from wearing it. The only light you can find is an oil lamp under the kitchen sink, not a single flashlight in any drawer…and your phone certainly won’t do any good. But it works—the oil is good, and there’s plenty of wick soaking in it, so it lights easily. “This might be my only luck tonight." The rain slows a little, and half of the sky clears up enough to see the moon and stars. It’s enough to orient yourself before they disappear again behind the trees, and a quick look at the compass on your phone is the last thing you do before silence falls around you. The trees hold up the rain, and the dense fog seems to take in everything else.

“Minnie!” Your voice falls flat—no echo. A twist of the knob raises the wick just a little, and the light intensifies.

For a while, you count your steps. Walking in a straight line is impossible, but you follow what looks like a trail the best you can, because you don’t want to think about getting lost in here without him. At one hundred steps, you stop and call for him again.

Fifty more, you call again. Everything is still eerily quiet, and if anything was walking around near you (“fuck, don’t think about that…don’t”), you’d know it. Twigs would snap, and the muddy forest floor would give almost anything away.

Fifty more steps. You set the lamp down and cup your hands around your mouth, and this time an echo moves through the trees. The rumble answers back. “No…not you.” What the hell was that? “Seungmin…please.” You force yourself further in; twenty…thirty…forty steps, and then you stop and rest on a stump. These woods are so much like the ones you walked through when you were a kid—thick, and dark, and quiet. But Mothman never got you, and whatever is living in this forest won’t get you, either. You hope. A sudden fear moves through you, though, and calling for Seungmin again seems like an invitation for something else.

I’ll just look for a while…no calling

Whatever lives here would be much deeper anyway…right? I’ve barely walked a quarter of a mile in

but I’ve been screaming for the last fifteen minutes, and if Seungmin’s in here…why IS he in here? Is he looking for something? Is he sleepwalking? No, he’s never done that before

What if this place is more than haunted, and you’re slowly slipping into some other place? What if there’s no going back after this? You’re pushed back in time again, to the dirty living room carpet and your bare feet sinking in. Dad is right behind you in his armchair, sound asleep, so you managed to swipe the tv remote from him.

You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas…

“There’s a signpost up a head…” you whisper to yourself in a strange attempt to self-soothe. "Your next stop—" You had a nightmare after watching that episode, and you remember it well. “God, maybe I've been dead this whole time.” The warmth of the medallion on your neck is suddenly very apparent, and you rub St. Michael between your fingers.

who are you?

“No, I’m not hearing anything else. Shut the fuck up.”

we don’t recognize you

“Seungmin!” You’re up and walking as fast as you can on the uneven ground, but the mud and heavy lamp are weighing you down. And then you see him. Or you see something. It moves across the trees in the shadow of your light. If it is him, he would have heard you and answered. “Hello?” Your voice shakes.

hello?

“Who’s there?”

He appears from behind a tree, and stares at you, silent.

“Seungmin…oh my god.” He doesn’t move when you run to him, and when you drop the lamp and throw your arms around him, he’s warm and still. “Minnie, baby, are you okay?” No answer, but his arms wrap around your shoulders and pull you close. “What are you doing out here? I was so scared.”

“Don’t be scared”

“Can we please go back?”

“Back?”

It takes some effort to free yourself, but you pull away and look at him. The lamplight is casting a strange shadow on his face, and now you’re back in your nightmare at the Jasmine Hotel. “Am I dreaming. Are we having a nightmare?”

“No, I’m awake”

“Can we go back?”

He takes your hand when you hold it out for him, and then he leads the way.

Seungmin is covered in mud. He’s drenched, and pale from the cold rain, but he doesn’t seem to be shivering the way that you are. His hand is warm, like he just woke up from a good sleep, and when he turns his head to look at you, he smiles.

“Why did you—“

“You must be cold, Tokki. I’ll run you a warm bath when we get back, and make you some tea.”

The walk back is quick, and he finds his way out easily. The rain passed while you searched for him, and now the sky is clear, so the light of the moon guides you the rest of the way.

Seungmin is quiet in the kitchen, but you can hear him filling the kettle and lighting the stove, the clink of mugs, and his soft voice as he starts to sing. You wash up quickly, drain the muddy bath water and start to refill it as his voice gets closer and closer.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing in there,” he says it with a lighthearted sternness.

“I feel better. It’s your turn.”

He doesn’t fight you. Seungmin hands you your tea and starts to pull off his damp clothes. You want to question him again, but you’re not sure when to do it—after he gets comfortable in the tub, or when you get him back into bed? He might fall right to sleep once his head hits the pillow.

“What kind of tea?”

His shirt is tossed and hits the floor with a wet thud, followed by his sweatpants, and then his boxers. “Raspberry leaf, with a little bit of sugar. I know it can be a ittle bitter."

So he's in there; he remembered the tea he brought, and he remembered that you coudn't stomach it without some sugar. “Did you do that to yourself?” Two long scratches along his collarbone stick out against his pale skin. Another three run across his shoulder blades.

“You don’t have to stay with me. Get back into bed and get warm.” He lowers himself into the hot water, and lets himself sink in up to his chin.

“No…we need to talk, Seungmin”

“What do we need to talk about?”

He looks at you, and there’s nothing about him that seems defiant. The memory of what just happened might already be fading away. “Min, do you remember waking up and leaving the house? I woke up and you were gone, and I couldn’t find you anywhere. I was scared.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sweetie. It was his mother that told you where he went. “What were you doing?”

He shakes his head, “I’m not sure.”

“You’ve done it before.”

“I have? How do you know?”

Pushing him for answers won’t help, because now you’re remembering the whispers in the greenhouse. He doesn’t know what he does when he comes here, and he’s doing it again…my poor sweet puppy. His mother spoke to you very clearly. Seungmin wanders into the woods every time he spends the night here, and he doesn’t remember doing it. He enters a dissociative fugue, and it’s continuing even with the medication. “Have you been taking your Haldol?”

“I have, I promise”

You know he has, because you’re usually with him when he does. And because her voice are gone. “I don’t know why I asked that, I know you are.”

“You shouldn’t have been out there in the rain. You could’ve gotten hurt, or lost. It’s my job to take care of you, and I failed.” Tears start to well in his eyes, and you don’t think you can stand to see him cry right now.

“But I’m okay, and you’re okay. We’re gonna get back into bed and sleep all morning, and then we’re going home.”

“Home?”

“Home”

/ / /

Another heavy storm passes through, and it keeps you up for a little while longer, but when you wake around noon, Seungmin is fast asleep next to you. Whatever he did when he disappeared into the woods exhausted him, because he never sleeps in this late. Maybe it’s this place, though, and not just his strange wandering. You need to know what happened in there, and what was going on in his head, but you don’t expect him to remember much.

“Mmm…morning,” he mumbles when you pull the blanket over his bare shoulder. The heat turned itself off while you slept, but you’re too cold to get up and fix it. Seungmin shivers a little, and you know it’s because he was too tired to find something to wear after his bath. “Cold.”

“I know, it’s cold in here…c’mere. "He moves closer and lets you wrap yourself around him. “How are you feeling?”

Seungmin groans and sighs.

“You can sleep more if you need to, or I’ll make some coffee”

“No, I’m up”

“Okay…do you remember last night, Min?”

Seungmin nods, but you have your doubts. Before the two of you even got into bed the first time, you talked. As a matter of fact, you and Seungmin talked more than usual. Not hearing his mother’s voice bothered him more than he lead you to believe at the time, and you think he may have been considering stopping his medication. He didn’t say that, but you could feel it.

“I remember, yeah. We had dinner, and we talked…we talked about names more.”

That part of the baby name conversation actually slipped your mind, but you remember now.

“Ha-neul,” he says again, because it’s still on his list. “And…”

“And something with Hwa or Hae, yeah?”

“Hae? Ha-neul and Hae…sung?”

The unexpected third part of the conversation might be the last one concerning names, at least for a while, because the way he’s looking at you is a very loud please, say yes to these. It almost makes you want to drop the questioning and return to it later.

“We’ll put those in the yes column”

But you can’t.

“Good. We can still think about it, but they do sound nice together.”

Seungmin seems happy; genuinely happy, despite how strange yesterday really was, and you hate having to ruin it. “You woke up last night…early this morning, I guess. Very early.”

“I did?”

“Yes. I woke up around two and you weren’t in bed. You weren’t anywhere in the house, or the greenhouse. Seungmin, I couldn’t find you…anywhere.”

He looks at you like you’re joking, but his face falls when he realizes you’re being very serious. “I don’t understand.” He sits up and looks down at himself, seems to realize he’s naked under the blankets, and wraps them tight around himself. “Was I sleepwalking?”

“I’m not sure, but I guess it’s possible”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that before”

He doesn’t know what he does when he comes here, and he’s doing it again…my poor sweet puppy

“How often did you spend the night here? Before me.”

“Maybe… maybe once every month or two. Where was I?”

There is no memory of anything behind his eyes. They soften as they search yours for the answer you’re trying to give to him, and you can see the puppy coming out. “In the woods. I found you about a quarter of a mile in, soaking wet, covered in mud.”

“No, why would I do that? I don’t like going in there when it’s daytime, and last night was…”

"I know"

“Why would I do that?” He says it again, more to himself this time. “Why?” Seungmin rocks a little and takes a deep breath. “Are you sure it wasn’t a dream?”

Without another word, you rise from the bed and head for the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

You understand his hesitancy in believing you, or believing it wasn’t just another strange dream. The whole thing being a nightmare isn’t far fetched at all, for either of you, but his muddy clothes are still on the bathroom floor. You hear him following closely behind.

“You took a bath, and we talked a little.” You show him in the clothes, and he examines them silently. “You didn’t remember anything last night, either. But you seemed fine…you made me tea, and…take that off, look at your neck.”

He pulls it down and examines himself in the mirror. “Did I do that in my sleep?”

“And your back”

The blanket drops to the floor. His scratches aren’t as red and angry as they were a few hours ago, but they broke open and bled a little in his sleep. “Looks like claw marks”

“Claw marks, from what?” From whatever made him go there in the first place. “I think you backed into a tree, Minnie…that’s all you were wearing out there.” You nod to his pile of clothes, and then occurs to you to check his t-shirt. The back of it is dirty, but that’s all—no rips, no blood. “Maybe.”

/ / /

The rain clouds are returning again, and the overcast sky is making your bad mood so much worse. You weren’t expecting the trip to go well, but this was beyond anything you could have imagined. Now you can’t help but stare off into the woods as Seungmin starts the ritual of collecting his heliotrope.

“Are you still here?” You whisper. Part of you is wondering if some of last night was a dream, or a hallucination, because the voices you heard are beginning to come back to you. All of them. “Please say something to him.” When you turn, he’s holding his arms tight against his chest, head down, as if he’s protecting himself from something. “What’s the matter, Min?”

“Nothing”

At any moment, he could break—that’s what he looks like standing there…like the last leaf preparing to fall off the tree, or a glass of water halfway off the edge of a table. One little gust of wind could topple him. So why are you hesitating to go to him? “Do you need help with anything?” You take a few slow steps toward him, but he turns away ever so slightly.

“N-no, no. I’m fine.” He bends and picks up the shears at his feet. “I’m okay.”

You catch his gaze for just a moment. His face is pale and tired, and you wish he would have slept longer. You almost want to stay another night, just not here, so he doesn’t have to drive. “Seungmin, talk to—“ You grab his elbow and make him look at you. “…me.”

“I’m sorry”

All you see is red, and you can smell it on him. “What did you do? Let me see.” The blood is coming from somewhere on his arm, but you can’t tell where. All you know is that it’s all over him, soaking the front of his shirt, starting to drip from his elbow.

“I cut too deep”

That explains his lifeless face. Everything around you is covered in dirt, so you reach into his back pocket. The embroidered handkerchief is there, like it always is. “Why’d you hurt yourself, love?” He’s had enough trauma for one trip.

“I didn’t mean to…make such a mess...ah," he winces when you push it down against the cut.

The thought of him running those shears along his skin makes you tense up. Whether he meant to cut or not, something in him wanted to put the blade on his arm in the first place. “It’s okay, baby, I’ll take care of it.” You hold as tightly as you can. "But we need to get back to the house.”

It’s start to rain again, of course, and some of the blood washes away with it, but it hasn’t stopped by the time you get to the kitchen and examine it again. Blood pools in the cleanly cut skin and slowly drips down his forearm. Seungmin watches intently, and very calmly. “I think it slowed down,” he whispers.

“Not enough. You need stitched up.”

“I’m sorry I did that in front of you.”

“In this case, I’m glad you did it in front of me so I can’t at least take care of it. Is there a first aid kit somewhere in the house?”

“Uhm, yes, I think it’s still in that top drawer,” he nods toward the kitchen sink. “But it’s old.”

Better than nothing. You wrap him back up with a clean towel, rifle through a drawer you remember from last night, and you find it all the way in the back. It’s full of the most basic things, but it’ll do for now. You clean it…Seungmin holds in a cry and stomps his feet for that, and tears run freely down his cheeks after the burning finally stops. Two rolls of gauze later, and you wonder how long the blood will take to soak through completely. “I should take you to an emergency room before we go home.”

“I don’t want to do that”

“So we’ll go after we get home. It’s one or the other, Seungmin, because you need stitches.”

“Fine, we’ll get it over with here”

Seungmin’s mood starts to match yours, but his injury pulled you up a little—concern quickly replaced the confusion and anger, but now he’s confused and angry. You know it was intentional, but you decide to believe he didn’t mean to cut as deeply as he did, and by the time you get to a hospital, the gauze is already turning pink.

“Thank you for driving”

“Thank you for navigating”

“You did very well. I remember being here once, when I was…five or six.” He looks around the waiting room, and everything is so old, you assume it looked the same twenty years ago. “I broke a finger.” Seungmin holds up the ring finger on his right hand.

“Yeah, it looks a little crooked. Never noticed that before.”

“Kim...Kim Seungmin?”

A tall man holding a clipboard stands in the open doorway, and he looks directly at him in the crowded room. “You can follow me…both of you, if you’d like.”

Seungmin stands, hand still gripping yours. “Oh, he said you can come.”

The hallway leading to the partitioned rooms is just as aged. The colors are drab and depressing, and the smell of disinfectant almost chokes you.

“Have a seat, and I’ll take a look at this”

“Are you the doctor?” Seungmin asks, and he looks around nervously, but the man shakes his head. “Do you speak English?”

“No, I’m a nurse. And yes, I can speak English…why? Oh…” he looks at you and smiles awkwardly. And he switches easily from Korean to English. “I’m sorry, you don’t speak Korean?”

You shake your head and try not to feel like a burden.

Seungmin stretches his arm out as the nurse pulls his gloves on and slowly unwraps the bandage. “I just like her to know what’s going on.”

“Of course. Does this hurt?” He sees Seungmin wince as he gets closer to the wound. “I guess so. May I ask what happened?”

“Gardening accident. Very sharp tools.”

One last loop, and the bloody bandage is finally off of him. “Working in the greenhouse?” The cut still oozes blood, but much slower than before.

“Huh?”

“You don’t recognize me, do you?”

Seungmin looks at you, as if you have the answer for him, and then back to the nurse. “I thought you looked liked him, but it seemed impossible. You came back, Heecheol?”

The nurse nods, and his smile grows because his friend recognizes him. “You haven’t changed at all, Seungmin. Same face, same sad puppy eyes.”

You have to smile at that. Seungmin was a puppy to the people around him—at least the ones he cared about, and who cared for him in return. Before speaking again, Heecheol examines the cut with gentle hands, and then excuses himself for a moment to get a suture kit.

“You’re stitching it?”

“Yes. Unless you prefer a doctor, but they usually ask me to do them anyway.”

“When did you move back to Uljin?”

He re-gloves and opens the package before cleaning from Seungmin’s elbow to the middle of his forearm. “About a year ago. Living in the states was fine, but I think I needed a change.”

“Where did you live?” You chime in, and he gives you the same warm smile.

“Greensboro, and then Charlotte for a while”

“I can hear some accent in your English”

“I can hear yours, too…I’m guessing you weren’t far from there”

You nod and smile.

“Do you two live here in Uljin? Are you married? Oh, uhm, I’m just assuming you’re a couple. Sorry.” He focuses again, grabs the syringe full of lidocaine, and holds tight to Seungmin’s forearm. “This will pinch for a moment, but…after that it’ll feel much better.”

Seungmin nods and watches the needle slide in and out at each corner of his cut. The pinch doesn’t seem to bother him. “It’s fine. Not married, and we were just visiting. We live in Seoul.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Min. Is…Heecheol,” you have trouble with this pronunciation, but he doesn’t seem to mind, “is he the friend you told me about? The color one?”

“Yes, this is him”

“The color one?”

“What’s your favorite color?” Seungmin says, and he actually smiles. He’s smiling at him the way he does for you when he’s feeling good. “Is yours still green?”

“You remember that?”

“I remember everything. Good and bad.”

“Right, I’m so sorry about your mother, Seungmin. I didn’t even know you lost her until my mom told me last year. She moved back here after my dad died, and now I’m taking care of her. She doesn’t have much time left…”

“She's sick?”

Heecheol nods solemnly as he checks the feeling of Seungmin’s arm. “Yes, end stage heart failure.”

“I’m sorry, Cheoli”

“I’ve had time to prepare and come to terms with it, which a lot of people don’t get. I am grateful for that.”

“Do you think she would still remember me?”

“My mom loved you, and she hated pulling us apart. She would, and she would love seeing you again—I’m sorry, I’ll be right back. I need different sutures.”

Seungmin turns to you when he disappears behind the curtain, and he looks like he’s ready to burst. His eyes are wide and watery, and his cheeks are starting to turn pink.

“What are the odds we’d run into him?” You run your thumb over the scar beneath his eye and wait for a tear to fall, but nothing comes. "Even in a small town?"

“It’s strange. Today has been very strange.”

After a few moments of silence, he returns, and he looks at both of you as if he’s figuring out how the two of you found each other. And how the two of you found him. “All ready, sorry.”

“It’s okay, we’re in no rush”

His mood has changed significantly, and now he has a very big reason to stick around a little longer. This place is not good for him, but you think his friend might be enough to outweigh the bad. The three of you are silent as he very carefully closes the wound, and he’s good at it. Heecheol is focused on his task, but every few seconds, his eyes move up to look at Seungmin—they look him over as if he could disappear at any moment and he doesn’t want to forget a single detail. Just as he’s finishing up, he does it again, and this time, Seungmin looks as well.

“I know you’re numb, but does it feel okay? Any pulling?”

“No, it’s good. It’s perfect.”

“I’m going to put a second skin bandage on it, over some gauze, and you won’t even have to think about it. Just go easy for a few days…no sliders…no fastballs.”

“I haven’t thrown a baseball in ten years”

It feels like you’re intruding. You don’t need to be here listening to them remember the past, even though you want to know more about the good parts of his childhood.

“How long will you be in town?”

“Well, we planned on heading home after I got stitched up”

There’s some hesitancy in his voice, and you know Seungmin is changing his mind about going home so quickly. You have no intention of pulling them apart again because the string between them is already reconnecting. It's obvious that the same force that ties you to him ties the two of them together as well.

“Maybe I’ll catch you next time,” he says, and as much as he tries to sound like he’s fine with it, he doesn’t.

“We can stay a little longer…if that’s okay with you”

Seungmin looks at you with his big wet eyes, as if you would ever say no to him. “Of course we can."

“Shift change is in…” Heecheol looks at his watch, “an hour. If you don’t mind waiting for me.”

/ / /

The weather finally changes. The rain stops, and the sun comes out, so Seungmin paces just outside the entrance to the hospital as you wait for him to speak. There’s a smile twitching on his lips, and you assume he’s thinking about his friend, and their past.

“How old were you when he moved?”

He stops and takes a seat next to you on the bench, and you’re relieved when he grabs your hand and squeezes. This was the first time since being with him that something truly got his attention more than you, and you have to admit that you’re a little jealous.

“I was eight…it was the summer before everything happened. We never even had the chance to say goodbye to each other.”

“I’m glad you found him again”

The doors slide open, and Heecheol walks out, freshly showered and out of his scrubs. He’s handsome; a sharp, fox-like face, and a sweet smile. The bounce in his step might not have been there a few hours ago, but it's there now, and it adds to his natural charm.

“Thank you for being so patient with me”

He makes sure to look at both of you as he speaks, but his eyes return to Seungmin and stay there. Had this one stopped and talked to you on the street, he would have caught you, too.

“Of course. Should we pay your mother a visit? Is she expecting us?”

“I called her and let her know. You’ve already made her day.”

Seungmin is nervous, and his legs are heavy as he walks up to the second floor. Memories are flooding back to him—racing up the four flights of stairs, and always losing because Heecheol’s longer legs carried him further. He has the stamina, but was never very fast. Luckily his arm was made for pitching. Was. Now, for the first time since he was fourteen, he’s wondering if he can still do it.

“She doesn’t get out much since the building has no elevator…just on good days.”

Good days that are few and far between, Seungmin guesses. Her heart won’t pump her blood the way it should anymore, and she’s slowly suffocating because of it.

“But we have a nice view of the water, and spring is coming early”

The front door clicks and creaks as he pushes it open, and the inside looks almost the same as he remembers it. After fifteen years and a move across the world, Seungmin expected some change, but he’s relieved that there’s so little.

“Umma, we’re here,” he calls out softly, and then looks to Seungmin. “Do you want some tea, or coffee?”

“No, I’m okay”

He heads for the kitchen anyway, and whatever he’s doing seems like routine. Electric kettle filled and on, mug from the cupboard, loose leaf tea scooped into a silk bag.

“Look at you, you’ve gotten so tall”

Her weak voice floats to him, and more memories unlock. “Eomoni!” It feels like no time has passed—he feels like a kid again, and he feels safe. Everything was good when he was here with Cheoli and his parents. There was no stepfather around, watching every movement, and judging every word.

“Seungmin-ah, you’ve grown into such a handsome young man.” She takes a few more steps toward the kitchen, but decides to take a seat on the couch instead. Seungmin can hear her labored breathing.

“Umma, where is your oxygen?”

“It’s giving me a headache”

Heecheol disappears into the bedroom, and he returns with a small pack slung over his shoulder, and a nasal cannula in hand. “You should have told me this was almost empty.”

“I have plenty, now you…come over here so I can see you better.” Everything about her, from her voice, to her face, to her informal mannerisms, is the same. She’s older than Seungmin’s mother would be now, but not by much. It’s the illness that’s aged her. “Yes, come sit with me.” His hand is squeezed between hers, and they’re cold against his warm skin. “Cheoli missed you so much, did he tell you that?”

“Umma…”

“What?” She turns, and Heecheol adjusts the cannula to her nose. “He tried finding you when he moved back last year, but he had no luck. And here you are!”

“I wasn’t sure if you had moved or not, but when I found out about…what happened, I figured you moved away.” Heecheol says.

“I live in Seoul, eomeonim. I’ve been there for five years”

“In Seoul? All by yourself?”

“With his girlfriend, umma”

“A girlfriend?” She says it as if it’s a shock, and her hands squeeze even tighter.

“Umma! Please…”

“Hush. How long have you two been together?”

Saying it is going to sound silly, especially considering the seriousness of everything between you. “Four months.”

“Four months?” Heecheol stops what he’s doing to look at Seungmin.

“Yes. It feels like we’ve known each other much longer, though.”

He nods, “that’s good…I’m glad you found someone, Min.

“Do you…?” He shakes his head before Seungmin finishes asking the question. His friend is handsome, but Heecheol has always been very particular about things, and even more introverted than him. He probably hasn’t changed much. “It’s a strange feeling to have someone when you’ve been alone for so long.”

“Yeah, I’m sure”

“What do you do in Seoul?” His mother interrupts, changes the subject. “For work?”

“I own the apartment building my father…my real father, left to me. So I guess…not much.”

“But you do well for yourself”

“I do, I’m very lucky in that sense”

Heecheol heads back to the kitchen to finish the tea he started, and Seungmin sits quietly, his hand still squeezed between hers.

“Soo-ji would be proud to see what a kind young man you’ve grown into”

“I’m not sure about that. I haven’t done—“

“You had to grow up without her. You made it through difficult times and you’re here, and you’re making someone else very happy, I assume. She would be very proud.”

Seungmin thinks about you sitting outside in the car, probably sound asleep, and he smiles. You weren’t very happy with his actions today, but he knows you are happy.

“You’re making us happy right now, Seungmin—Cheoli and I…Seungmin?”

“Yes, are you okay?”

Her voice falls to a whisper. “He needs you. As much as he tries to smile, and work hard, and care for his dying mother…he’s struggling. He’s alone, and I can only do so much for him. There has to be a bigger reason for you walking into that hospital and finding him there.”

No part of Seungmin wants to abandon his friend, but he has a hard time envisioning himself as someone else’s divine providence. Even with you.

“He wasn’t even supposed to be at work today. Cheoli was just covering for another nurse.”

“Here, umma…be careful, it’s hot.” Heecheol places it on the table in front of her, and then his eyes turn to Seungmin. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m sure”

“Oh, I guess we should get going. We’re going for dinner, and I’ll bring you something good back, okay?”

“Yes, good…don’t rush. You two have a lot of catching up to do.”

Heecheol is quiet on the way back to the car, but Seungmin can’t help but see the loneliness in his face now, and in his posture. “How have you been? He stops. They both do, and they face one another at the bottom of the staircase. “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright? Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I can’t really complain.”

“You can if you want, you can complain to me”

“No complaints right now,” he smiles.

/ / /

Seungmin is surprisingly calm in the busy restaurant, but it’s obvious that Heecheol is distracted by something in his own head.

“I didn’t expect so many tourists this early,” Seungmin says, and he starts to scratch at the bandage on his arm.

You take his hand in yours and pull it closer to you. “Don’t scratch at it, you’ll make it sore.”

“I’d rather it be sore then itchy”

Heecheol doesn’t chime in. He’s staring at your clasped hands, eyes wide and glazed over until you loosen your grip and let go. Maybe he’s not a fan of PDA, which you don’t blame him for. You’re not a fan, either. “Are you and Seungmin the same age?”

“I’m actually a year older, so we didn’t get to have classes together”

A tiny smile tugs at Seungmin’s lips. “That’s why we spent almost all of our free time with each other.”

“So how did you meet?”

“Little league, we got put on the same team”

“Seungmin smiles even bigger now. “The Bears, I think I still have the team photo somewhere at home…” He turns to you, “probably in one of those boxes.”

“I’ll find it”

“Please find it. I lost so many little things moving around. So how did you two meet?”

You decide to let Seungmin take this question, and you hope he can simplify it and somehow make it sound normal.

“Uhm, she walked by me outside of the convenience store by my building, and pretended to be lost…so I helped her home.”

“That’s very cute”

“There was a little bit of chasing, but we figured it out eventually. You said you’re single, right?”

“I am, yeah…I never really dated much. I’ve tried, but it’s hard.”

“You can visit us in Seoul. Maybe you’d feel more comfortable there, being yourself. It’s easier.”

“Easier? How do you know?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time getting a feel for people all over the city. And I’ve taken plenty of them home.” Seungmin cocks his head to the side, and Heecheol’s eyes move between the two of you. “Men, and women…yes. And you would probably do better than I ever have.”

This is the most carefree and comfortable you’ve ever seen Seungmin in someone else’s company. It took what felt like a very long time for him to soften up for you, but this was almost immediate. The moment he realized who he was taking to in that hospital, he started to become lighter; a completely different person—one that didn’t wander into the woods in the dark, or feel the unbearable need to slice his arm open from the turmoil rolling around inside of him.

“Is it that obvious? I guess it is." Heecheol laughs.

“What, that you prefer men? I've known that since I was eight, and we went to that birthday party at the ice rink. Do you remember?”

“Oh my god…uhm, Junsoo, our catcher who couldn’t catch very well. He was turning nine.”

“Right, his older brother was there, and you stared at him the whole time”

“Mhm. Jinhwan. He was twelve, and he was already the best hitter for the senior league. And the best forward on the hockey team. And—”

Seungmin‘s hand jumps up to cover his mouth, and he laughs with his whole body. A sweet laugh, though, the kind that Heecheol can laugh along with and not feel embarrassed. “Yeah, I knew…I knew you like I knew myself.”

“And you were always a mystery to everyone else, but I understood why. We made a good pair.”

“You still do. I don’t hear him laugh like that very often.”

Heecheol turns to you and smiles. “I’m sorry, I hope you don’t feel left out of the conversation.”

“Not at all. I like listening to the two of you talk, and it’s nice to hear him laugh.”

“Still a little mysterious, Mo?”

He rubs at his bandage again. “Not on purpose.”

/ / /

As hard as you try, staying awake on the drive home is nearly impossible, but you shake yourself awake every time you feel yourself slipping. Seungmin has to make this drive, and you know he’s even more exhausted. Finding his friend did perk him up, though, and the music playing on the radio is more upbeat and louder than you’re used to.

“Don’t stay up for me, relax”

“I’m alright. We have a while to go still, so promise me you’ll pull over if you get sleepy.”

“I promise”

He gives you a sweet, sleepy smile, and you’re almost positive you’ll end up in a hotel somewhere tonight. “I like him.”

“Do you? Seeing him again…it felt like no time passed at all, and like nothing bad ever happened.”

“Finding each other again is something special. He loves you, Minnie.”

“We were kind of isolated to each other, aside from the team…but even then, it was just us all the time.”

He didn’t see the way Heecheol looked at him, and maybe it was just disbelief...maybe he couldn’t believe his own eyes—his best friend, back, right in front of him. But you don’t really believe that. Heecheol loves Seungmin the way that you love him; in a way you can’t really describe in words. You can feel it.

His mind goes back to eomeonim and her concern for her son; his loneliness, and believing there’s a reason why they found each other again. But love is a strong word for someone who was there for three years, and then left for the next fifteen. As soon as that thought crosses his mind, he looks at you, nodding off again, and remembers your four months together. Things couldn’t get much more serious than they are now. But he needs you…he loves you? Seungmin isn’t sure he has much more to give after you and two children.

“How are you feeling?”

“My arm feels fine, it’s just a little sore”

“Not that…everything else”

“You mean last night?”

“Yes, last night”

Seungmin thinks. He doesn’t know how to answer this, because he still doesn’t remember a single thing between going to bed around midnight, and then waking up at noon. The scratches on his back are itchy now that he’s thinking of them, but otherwise, there’s nothing. Just what you witnessed. “I don’t remember any of it, so…it’s like it didn’t happen.”

“I’m glad you don’t remember, but I wish I knew why you did it”

“Did you see anything else while you were looking for me?”

See? No. Heard? His mother’s voice, whatever is in the woods, and maybe even his stepfather’s voice outside the shed. That hadn’t occurred to you until right this moment. The hey that you thought was Seungmin, it definitely wasn’t. “I didn’t see anything.”

He looks at you, waiting for more.

“I heard things, but…I was tired, and scared”

“I’m sorry. I’m grateful you cared enough to look for me, but I’m sorry you had to do that.”

“Of course I cared enough, I’d do it again if I had to”

“That’s the last time we spend the night there”

The alarm keeps ringing. Why is there an alarm on in the first place? You somehow form that thought and that question in your sleepy, foggy head. The room is still so dark, though, so it can’t be morning yet. Where is he?

“Where are you?” You’re not even sure it comes out of your mouth. “Seungmin!”

“Hey…I’m right here. I’m sorry.”

The bed moves as he crawls up and grabs his phone, turns off the sound, and the room is finally silent. You turn onto your back and pull yourself up against the pillows, but your head throbs. Opening your eyes feels like it might be a mistake.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to shut off the alarm from last week. Do you need anything? Does your head feel any better?”

“A little…I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry. I think I was dreaming.”

“It’s okay”

“My head is better than it was.” His half smile is what you see when you open your eyes, and then his dark hair sweeping across his eyebrows. “Your hair is getting so long.” You reach out and brush some of it away from his forehead, and then your eyes fall to your stomach.

"What time is it?” You set your hand on it and breathe deep, and Seungmin sets his hand on top of yours. Then you switch.

“It’s almost ten, you slept for a while. Oh, I felt something!”

“Did you?”

“Yes, a little kick I think”

“Good, I’m sure they know you’re here”

His smile grows until you see all of his teeth “yeah?” The other hand finds a new spot and waits, but he pouts a little when nothing happens. You don’t feel any kicks or flutters, and he doesn’t either. “It’ll be nice to see them again.”

“What day is it, Min?”

“Wow, you must have slept very well, that’s good. It’s Monday.”

“Monday?”

“Monday the 19th.” He waits as you think. “Your fancy ultrasound is tomorrow. We get to see them in more detail, right?”

“How did I forget?”

Seungmin moves his hand again and waits, and when nothing happens, he’s back up and digging through his dresser for a change of clothes. “They’re wearing you out, but…that’s why I’m here.”

Thanks to him and his attentiveness, getting to week twenty-two was easier than you thought it would be, despite your exhaustion. You’re not sure if this nurturing side of him was always there waiting to come out, or if he’s just been working overtime to be the dad he desperately needed as a child. Whatever it is, he’s doing well.

Seungmin has been okay for the last two months—no hallucinations, no urges, and no truly bad days. He still gets quiet and sulks, but not lately. A new tenant moved in a week ago, and it’s kept him busy until today. The distraction has been good for him, and watching him focus on work was a nice change.

“What are you smirking at?”

“Hm?” His phone is lighting up a smile on his face. It falls a little, but comes back along with a blush on his cheeks as he gets himself under the blankets. “Just talking.”

“Talking?”

“Heecheol sent a message earlier, and I forgot to reply until now”

“Good, I wasn’t sure if you were keeping in touch. How is he?”

“Tired, he said, but he has to work all night so he can’t get any sleep. I was thinking of asking him if he wanted to visit, but only if you feel okay.”

“He can visit whenever he likes, and you two can do whatever you want. Baseball game…night club? Maybe both. You deserve a nice night out.”

“I’ll ask him. Do you think he’d want to stay for a while?”

The idea is nice. “A while…like a weekend? Or a week?” But the more time spent with Seungmin, the more likely it is that Heecheol will see the other side of him, or be around for one of his bad days. “If he wants to. Maybe we can start with a day or two, so we don’t scare him off.”

Seungmin studies you for a moment, and then nods. “Yeah, I guess so."

"I think he would love to spend as much time as possible with you, though"

"I’ve been alright since the whole disappearing into the woods thing, right?”

“You have. You’ve been present, and happy.”

“I’m trying really hard”

There’s a choke in his voice as he says it, and you go back over everything you just said to him in your mind. “You are, I know…and you’re the reason why I’m doing so well right now.” He moves closer until your arms open for him. “You’ve been there for me every single day and night.”

“Have I? Have I been good enough?”

Seungmin still has a hard time believing it, you know that, even as you hold onto him and squeeze him tight.

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doberbutts · 5 hours ago

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So I'm going to ask an honest question here and ask you please explain in layman's terms. Every trans person I know irl has no concept of the transandrophobia discourse but every time I see more of it online I'm...unsettled, and it takes a lot to power through all the terminology.

I initially was really receptive to transandrophobia because the rationale behind being against it sounded stupid and akin to label discourse in the queer community. I saw "being a man is not an axis of oppression therefore you don't get your Own Word" and thought that was pedantic nonsense, that language doesn't need to adhere to that rule, and that it's helpful to have a term designated towards transmasculine experiences so people can find those experiences easier. Not that trans women's experiences aren't also beneficial! But that, well, obviously no matter how similar the experience birds of a feather and that sense of comfort of sharing identity still matters. This is true for other issues of identity too, I find, weather that's a good thing or a bad thing idk, but it is human.

The thing is I follow a lot of transwomen and have been seeing some alarms being raised about the community being formed around this word. You blocked one of the most egregious offenders so I trust you (which is why I'm asking sorry) I've seen a lot of misogyny and essentialism from people using the term "transandrophobia" and more egregiously "transmisandry." Idk your opinion on the latter term (I haven't scrolled down far enough on your blog, sorry if you talked about this before) but to me it's unconscionable. I was taught that transandrophobia existed as a term specifically NOT to use that term, that elevating misandry to a legitimate issue was dangerous for obvious reasons and it was one of the reasons why I was so supportive of transandrophobia. To me, it seemed like an awareness that misogyny was the prevailing issue behind all issues of gender oppression, but when I actually look at the tag I...get uncomfortable.

Blogs I follow have repeatedly been upset at misogyny from this community, and have been using the term "transandrobro" to describe behavior they find akin to cis MRAs. I've truly seen horrible things with hundreds, sometimes thousands of notes to it that do, unfortunately, feel like women are being blamed for the plight of trans men. I've seen cis people say they were originally on MRA reddits and then came to tumblr to "confront the misandry directly" only to wholeheartedly adopt transandrophobia into their worldview. It's hard because I KNOW I shouldn't judge a community based on a few crazies but it truly does feel sometimes like "transandrophobia" gives misogynists a venue to air their woman-hating to an eager audience, kinda like how "Karen" has been co-opted beyond the og meaning of being for racist white woman to any woman being mildly rude.

So like, here it is: can transandrophobia exist without being co-opted by misogynists? Is there a threshold of proliferation for misogynists destroying this word until a new one needs to be made? Or will every word trying to identify the transmasculine experience be inevitably co-opted by misogynists because misogynists are just that powerful, so people should double down harder on the word and work to push misogynists out?

(Also am I going crazy, or did this word a year ago used to have a WAY better community than the one I see nowadays. Back then I could find your blog and really compassionate people easily, and now it's just...bad.)

It is a little hard to understand some of this post but I will do my best to answer what I think is being asked.

To put simply, I think the reason why it was better a year or two ago is because the majority of the people who were actually trying to further the conversation and not just circle jerk in the echo chamber got chased off. Transandrophobia, anti-transmasculinity, transandromisia, transmascphobia... the guys who coined these are largely either not posting at all anymore or post far far less than they used to. They were harassed and the constant exposure to transphobia made them shut down their blogs for their own mental health. Not all of them, but a lot of the so-called "big names" had this happen.

Even I stopped posting for a while and shuttered the doors for a bit outside of a long queue of dog photos because of how much it was affecting my mental health.

In their place remain people who are not committed to the same conversation. Perhaps they are younger, or less familiar with the building blocks of theory that really should be required reading, or are still stuck in their "everything sucks and it's YOUR fault" phase. Maybe they do come from different places, like 4chan or reddit, which are less prone to this sort of discussion. A lot of the original crowd had been on tumblr long enough to remember when we could still edit posts, and I keep seeing people who would have been in elementary school at that time posting to the tag nowadays.

I was discussing this problem on discord with a small group of friends and one of them- a trans fem- called it second wave transandrophobia discourse as a bitter joke. I think she is more right than wrong, regardless.

I'm not sure who you believe I've blocked- in general I don't air out who I block on this blog because at nearly 12k followers there are too many people who would love to dogpile someone for the sin of disagreeing with me and I do my best to prevent that. I don't want anyone to be harassed, after all. There's a lot of assumptions that have been made about my block and follow behavior that vary from "hilarious but untrue" to "outright offensive slander".

People are people, and some people are shitheads. Trans mascs and people who want to support trans mascs are not exempt from that. I say this all the time- Kayne West is objectively a shitty person but his existence doesn't prove the concept of antiblackness to be a myth. Caitlyn Jenner is objectively a shitty person but her existence doesn't prove the concept of transmisogyny to be a myth. So why do shitty trans mascs prove our own theory to be dangerous or nonexistent? Why hold us to a higher standard than any other marginalized group?

I could ask you the same question- there are posts on here with hundreds, sometimes thousands, of notes made by trans fems and cis women who blame their problems with transmisogyny on trans mascs. There are people coming from reddit, Twitter, 4chan who are being actively transphobic and misogynistic and claiming they're doing it for the good of transfeminism. There are posts filled with misogyny and bioessentialism and gender essentialism and even interphobia and racism and transphobia being left completely unchecked. Do you think it would be acceptable for me to ask if that means transmisogyny theory should be abandoned or if we should just accept that it will draw people with bad intentions?

Or do you think the better answer is to focus instead on finding those with a good head on their shoulders, and making sure it's them who has their voice heard? Do you think we should maybe not judge entire demographics because there exists some shitty people who claim the same identity?

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cherrysurf · 2 days ago

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Hello! I was maybe thinking to help with the writers block, that maybe you could do Katsuki helping the reader in the gym! (They don't actually know each other, but they were basically the only people in the gym and the reader, or Katsuki, needed a spotter) :]

Early morning gym session !

professional trainer!bakugou x f!reader

little ooc, yn is athletic but not super (kinda half proofread)

It was 4am when you decided to hit the gym before work, you liked waking up early to be prepared for the day and another thing about it was that there was hardly anyone at the gym during those hours, a few people here and there but that was it. The only downside to this was the fact that when you needed a spotter you couldn’t ask because of lack of people or the fact that everyone was in the zone doing their own thing. So here you are again at the gym it was 4:30am it was only you and maybe two other people as you were setting up the weights on the rack to do squats, you were trying to reach a new rep but you were hesitant just in case you couldn’t lift it backup and didn’t want to cause a severe injury on your back right before work, so you look around to see if anyone was taking a break between their sets so they could help you real quick, that’s when you see a tall spiky blonde man sitting on a bench wiping sweat off his face and drinking water, although he did look intimidating you had no other choice it was that or the group of grandmas on the tendmills you decided to suck it up and go ask him if he says no you’ll just stick to the same rep you can do by yourself. You slowly walked up to him. He was down looking at his phone with his headphones in black sleek beats just like yours but yours were blue. Then he saw a pair of shoes on the floor and looked up to see you awkwardly waved hi and pointed at your ears to signify that you wanted to say something, he took off his headphones and then said “what do you want?” in a monotone voice, “uhm i’m trying to reach a new rep but i need a spotter and i saw you were talking a break so i wanted to ask, but if you can’t that’s totally okay! i understand so you don’t need to worry about it or feel forced or anything” you said rambling “6 reps of 14 or i’m not doing it.” he said “what?” you say confused “6 reps of 14 or i'm not doing it. How do you expect to grow your glutes without a proper amount of reps?” he said almost in a snarky manner “mmh can i at least get a break in between?” you say “if you do them right. If not, you start over” he said. “Why did you ask him you” wondered annoyingly. “So why should I take your advice?” you questioned the man “because i’m a personal trainer and i know a lot more than you.” he added while taking a sip of his water “oh?” you say stunned “mhm so let’s get started before i don’t want to do this anymore.” he standing up you simply just turned around and walked to where you were while he followed behind—

the time he spent as your spotter was hell, filled with yelling about not squatting properly, how weak you were, how he squats twice as much, you were sweating so much you looked like how he looked when you approached him after it was done you laid down on the floor trying to catch your breath “that was nothing i don’t know why you are so dramatic clearly you’ve never trained properly.” he said laughing in a mocking way all you could do was roll your eyes from the lack of energy to fight him back. “So what's your name?” he says looking down at you “yn. you?” you responded heavily breathing “bakugou.” he said “i could train you if you want to get better” he continued on “no thanks i don’t want to pay for someone to yell at me” you say “free of charge for now. We go to the gym at the same time and I'll have you follow my daily routine just for a girl” he says, offering his hand to get you up, which you are shocked by how quickly he was able to get you off the ground with one hand. “free for now?” you asked confused, “think of it like a free trial if you’re not annoying and do the workouts right we can keep it free.” he shrugs “gimme your phone so i can put my number in” he said you comply handing him your phone and he returns it back before walking off “enjoy the rest of your measly work out see you tomorrow for a real workout.” he said going back to the area he was in leaving you shocked and outta breath ready to go home and shower thinking about how sore your going to be “maybe i should call out of work. I’m gonna have jelly legs.” you say groaning in annoyance.

the next couple of days of this new found routine helped you out a lot despite you coming home sore the first few days, you looked and felt better and noticed results faster than normal so one day after you and bakugou had finished the gym session you wanted to thank him, so as you both were walking out to leave and go your separate ways you stopped him “hey uhm i actually have something for you as a thank you gift but it’s in my car, would you mind if i go get it really quick.” you say nervously “we can just walk to your car so you don’t have to walk all the way back here” he said, “okay” you say as you both walked to your car it was awkward but that’s how it was if you and him were working out, you make it to your car to unlock it and pull out the gift basket with pre-workouts and a thank you car and some other gym essentials, his face was shocked at the sight of it all he rolled his eyes “you know you didn’t have to do this.” he said looking at you holding the gift basket “i know but you don’t charge me for lessons and they’ve been helping so it’s the least i can do.” you say looking at him. “Whatever, thank you I guess.” he said, taking the basket. “See you tomorrow don’t be late” he said walking off with his gift in hand, which made you smile to see that hint of amusement on his face from the gift. just as you were about to drive off you get a text from him saying “let’s go out to eat this weekend so i can tell you what you can eat for the the best results” he said which made you squeal like a little girl “okay sounds cool” you text back trying to be nonchalant but we’re really freaking out in real life excited for your little “date” with the cute boy from the gym.

a/n- thank you meeya for looking over it 😞🤞🏼, also ty darhina for requesting this? i rlly enjoyed writing it!!

#cherrysurf writes #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you

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mossygirl333 · 7 hours ago

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Hi there! Could I please get a Carrot Cake, an Oatmeal, and a Boba Tea for Logan x Reader please? Thank you!!!

An: ofc!! sorry I've been slow to get drafts out, just kinda tired and busy especially with Christmas :p

Logan Howlette x Reader

Bakery order: Carrot Cake- "You're such a pretty girl. C'mon, say it. You're a pretty girl. + Oatmeal Cookie - "You're a virgin? Don't worry your pretty little head about it, I'll teach you." + Boba Tea - body worship

Tw/Cw: Virgin!reader, perverted old man Logan (the best Logan *dreamy sigh*), soft Logan, praise, fingering, protected p in v

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!!

This was nerve-wracking. Probably the most nerve-wracking thing you've ever done. Sat back on his bed, fidgeting with your necklace as Logan mumbled and searched for a condom in his room.

After a drunken confession of virginhood the night before and a promise to let Logan take it, he had waited till the hangover faded and he could really give you the thing you wanted.

He stood up, a silver packet held between two fingers like some cigarette. The streetlight outside pouring into the dim room with an orange light the color of fanta.

You swallowed thickly when you met his eyes, your gut churning. Was this really what you wanted? (I mean you have been fantasizing about fucking your teammate for quite a bit of time now but not like this.)

"You alright doll?" He sat beside you, his bed creaking a bit under his weight. He smelled good, bitter cigar and fire smoke clung to his clothes and hair. It was almost intoxicating, eyes growing heavy and dizzy as you lean in.

"Mhm." You hum, shifting a little closer as he gently touches your cheek. Pushing strands of your hair out of your face. His forehead pressed up against yours.

"You're a real pretty girl, ya know that don't you?" His lips push into yours, gently. Like you were a porcelain doll he was scared to break. Hands rubbing at your sides. "Say you're a pretty girl."

Your cheeks flush hot, skin warming up as you mumble shyly against his lips. "I'm a pretty girl."

His rough hands knead into your thighs, gently sliding you down into bed. Climbing up on top of you, tracing his lips across your temple. "My pretty girl."

Your thighs squeeze together, a shudder barely surprised rolling through you. His touches were agonizingly slow. "M'gonna savor you. Every. Last. Inch. Been wanting this ever sense I saw that pretty face on the roster."

His fingers unbuckle your jeans, helping you squirm out of the denim. Smiling against your neck as he feels between your legs. "So wet f'me already babydoll?"

"Want you in me.." You whimper in response, pawing at his thick muscular thighs.

"Gotta stretch ya out on my fingers first." He chuckles, sliding his hand beneath the soft cotton of your panties, rough pads of his digits pressed up against puffy folds. Collecting your slick and rubbing it around your clit.

Your head rolls back, breathlessly whispering. "fuck, Lo-" He looks up at you and softly smiles, taking such a perverted joy in your sweet mewls.

"Lo? That's new. I like it, sweet girl." He slips two fingers inside, feeling you clench around him. Feeling around until his fingers that gummy spot deep inside. A sigh falling from your lips as he presses up against it. "There we are, nice and full of my fingers. Ya like that?"

You nod, shakily holding his broad shoulders as he cradles you against him, pumping his fingers in and out. "Keep moaning for me baby, such a sweet sound f'me."

Your hips jerk up as he presses on your clit, circling it with a gentle pressure. Swallowing up your moans with his mouth, his breath heavy against the skin on your cheeks.

His pace grows faster, feeling you clench and writhe against his hand, grinding up against his palm. "M'close-"

"I see...C'mon, come for me. I know, I know-" He coos. "Feels like a lot, but it's okay. You can do it." You hitch, whines growing more highpitched, eyes wide open and bulging as your chest heaves. "And there. we. go." You whimper, biting down on his shoulder as the heavy hot coil in your belly snaps, gushing out slick on his hands.

He softly laughs, kissing your sweaty forehead as he tugs off your ruined underwear. Pocketing them in his back pocket for later. "there ya go, all stretched out and wet. We're gonna go slow okay?"

Swallowing thickly, you nod. Head swimming a little as you shift back on the bed. "o- okay."

"Safe word?" He whispers, guiding your hands to the front of his jeans.

"Red." You firmly state, remembering the small conversation that morning when you planned this out. The front of his jeans come undone, the bulge in his boxers leaking sticky precum.

His thighs tremble a bit as his cock springs out, thick and heavy, tip red and weeping. He settles between your spread thighs, resting them on his own as he traces your belly. "Gonna take all of me aren't you? Cause you're a good girl."

You rest your head back, baring your neck as his tip pulses and pushes up against your sensitive cunt, sliding in with a dull achy pressure. Then the next inch slides in and the next. You felt him in your stomach by the time you were done, pressing up against your cervix. "God it's a perfect fit. If I knew your pussy was this pretty, woulda fucked her earlier."

He waits for a few seconds, letting you adjust to his girth before he pulls out a little. Sinking back in with a firm thrust. Your lips part, mouth falling open as you squirm. His hand resting heavily on your throat as you swallow back drool.

He tests out a few more thrusts, until he manages to find your g-spot. Setting a nice pace, his hips grinding up into yours. Tracing your jaw as you moan. "There we go baby-" He grunts out, hands digging in a bit. "Sing for me."

You try to squirm away and his hands fly down to your hips, pulling you in close. "Oh no sweet thing, I ain't done yet. Look at me." His thumb find your clit and his others find your mouth. Sucking on two fingers, tasting like slick arousal.

Your eyes meet his, watching his focused eyes. The hot feeling in your belly grows tighter, swelling up and causing tears to grow in your pretty eyes. Spilling over your cheeks as you drool over his hand, scratching down his back in desperation.

Your hips stutter, trembling as everything suddenly pauses, and then comes rushing down in a pleasurable wave. Chest heaving as his fingers leave your mouth, sobs of pleasure leaving your throat.

"Oh shhh, baby, it's okay. M'right here with you." He kissed your salty tearstained cheeks. "Did so good for me, didn't you?"

"My perfect pretty girl."

#logan howlet smut #the wolverine #wolverine #james howlett #logan howlett #james logan howlett #logan wolverine #logan howlett x reader

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whencartoonsruletheworld · 10 hours ago

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I recently rewatched Mouthwashing (thanks to CoryxKenshin being back like the king he is) and going through the tag again and I think everyone's missing like, one big thing with Anya. Specifically due to people not realizing just how long they were all stuck there.

tw under the cut for... everything that happens to Anya in this game.

More specifically, TW: sexual assault, pregnancy, abortion, miscarriage, suicide.

Anya was not still pregnant when she died.

I kinda figured this was common knowledge but I keep seeing people like... assume she was dying while still pregnant, and the thing is. It doesn't track at all.

When Anya asks Curly how much longer they'll be in space, and she depressedly realizes it will be eight months, that's cause she already knows she's pregnant by that point. Human pregnancy is roughly nine months, if you weren't aware, and women tend to realize they're pregnant at about 2-3 months. AKA: she's realizing she has no chance of an abortion. Clearly they don't have the medical tools for a safe one on the ship, and they're not going to leave the ship for eight months. By that time, the kid will be born. Even if miraculously she's still pregnant by the time they land and she can get a late-late-term abortion, even if she gives the kid up for adoption, she still has to be pregnant, on a ship that barely has the tools for the survival of five healthy people, with her rapist's baby, for eight months. And again, that's not going to happen; she's already 2-3 months along at that point, the kid would probably be born in the med bay.

I think that's also part of why Jimmy freaked out. The "taking responsibility" could be seen as him having to take responsibility for a kid, but the way I always read it, it was that once they landed, there would be zero chance that Jimmy could deny he'd slept with Anya. DNA tests are accurate now, I'm sure in our far future where we can space-travel it's gotten even better. His best case scenario would be her not pressing charges or claiming it was consensual and then he'd have to either help raise the kid or pay child support when he clearly can't even afford to take care of himself AND he just lost his job. But that's again, the best case. What I think he knew would be more likely to happen would be that she would admit what had happened to her, the baby would serve as proof, and whether Curly backed him up or not, Swansea and Daisuke were less fond of him and less loyal to him respectively. If they testified that they didn't see any consensual relationship going on, or if they testified about him harassing her or worse, that'd be three-against-two, and that's assuming Curly would back him up on the basis of them being friends. Curly claimed to Jimmy that he was going to figure it out for them, and his efforts to appease Jimmy over protecting Anya are what caused this shitstorm to happen, but he's also a professional who isn't very inclined to dishonesty from what we've seen of him.

Jimmy, I think, knew that. He knew that "taking responsibility" wasn't just "for the kid you brought into the world," it would be "for the crime you committed." If the MouthwashingVerse society is similar enough to ours, he would be arrested and charged, probably jailed, and put on a sex offender registry, which would severely limit his job prospects once he got out of incarceration. If the society is better than ours, he might get longer jail time and worse punishments then we see for rapists in our world. And if it's worse, there's still physical proof that Jimmy created a kid and he'd be expected to take care of it. But I think the former options are the more likely, and why Jimmy was so willing to die rather than take responsibility. It wasn't "I would rather die than be a father," it was "I would rather die than face consequences for my crimes." Let's also not forget that in storytelling, babies are basic metaphors for the future. Jimmy does not want to face his future, so he kills it for everyone.

But with the crash, back to my main point: Anya would've been 2-3 months pregnant by the time of the crash. They survive five months on the asteroid before everyone dies. I know this game is low-poly, but does Anya look 7-8 months pregnant to you? The game has enough polygons to make Swansea plus-sized, so you'd think it wouldn't be that hard to make an alternate Anya model. But she not only doesn't look pregnant, not a single other character mentions a pregnancy in their laundry list of current problems. It's not exactly easy to hide when you're seven months pregnant.

It's most likely that Anya miscarried early on in the crash. If the crash itself didn't do it– which it probably did– the next five months of limited food, high-stress, and no medication would do it.

Why am I bringing this up? I keep seeing people assume that Anya's suicide was then in her last-ditch effort to not have to birth her rapist's baby. An attempt to take control back of her own body. But there isn't a baby by then. Anya hasn't been pregnant for a while. I think it's a little scary for people to try turning her suicide into her triumphing over Jimmy, when part of the horror of the story is how everyone's deaths were tragic and avoidable. Anya did not kill herself to avoid being pregnant, she killed herself because she was traumatized and suicidal and didn't see a future for her or anyone on the ship.

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #anya mouthwashing #mouthwashing anya #wrong organ #mine #rape m /#abortion m /#miscarriage m /

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hwaslayer · 21 hours ago

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the space between us three (jyh) | three.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

⇢word count: 7.4k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language, seora's a smart lil gal who luvs her uncles v much, she does open up a lil bit about her mom, mentions of death, yunho goes out for dinner, making out, one-sided [rushed] feelings tho oof - one of those things where you think it'd play out fine then it doesn't 🤐, a lil glimpse into yunho and his thoughts/how he feels about things, some seora x uncle hwa content, a bit of oc x parents too!

"Hey." Yunho slips on his seatbelt as the call pulls up through the car's bluetooth, on his way out of the staff garage. "Were you able to leave a bit early to get to Seora?"

"Yes, I already told you I'd find a way. I'm pulling up to the lot right now." Yunho lets out a breath of relief, heading over to Ara's loft since she had the day off today. Tonight was the night they'd go out for dinner, something Yunho thought would be fun and harmless. He went into this thinking he'd put himself out there and give it a chance, even though deep down, he's not entirely sure where he lies about this— about her.

Maybe tonight would help him decide, but he wasn't gonna force it and just let things go with the flow.

"Looks like I made it just in time. Practice just got out."

"Good."

"So, what exactly did you tell Seora?"

"That I was heading out to a team dinner."

"Atta boy."

"Shut up."

"Uncle Hwa!" Yunho hears Seora's voice in the background, causing him to smile to himself. "Sup!"

"What's up, little one?" Seonghwa playfully ruffles her hair before pulling her into a hug. "Ready to go? Anything you want before we head home?"

"Hm, that's a good question." She points to the phone. "Wait, are you on the phone with my dad?"

"Sure am." He faces the phone towards her before she grabs it.

"Dad."

"Hey babygirl. I'll be home later, okay? Have fun with Uncle Hwa. Run his wallet dry, he won't mind." She laughs.

"Okay, I will. But, what time will you be home?"

"I don't know, not too late. It could run a little long, though."

"Hm." She hums. "Are you really going to a team dinner?" Seonghwa purses his lips together to prevent himself from laughing out loud.

"Yes." Yunho says, feeling a bit bad to lie to his own daughter. "I'll get home as soon as I can."

"Okay."

"I love you, ace. Make your uncle useful."

"Okay, okay." She chuckles. "I love you, too." She passes the phone back to Seonghwa before sliding her things into the backseat and settling into the passenger's side.

"Have fun at your team dinner." Seonghwa teases, making Yunho rolls his eyes.

"Not one word, Park Seonghwa."

"Uh huh." He hangs up the phone and slips into the driver's seat, settling in just before turning on the car and looking over at Seora. "So, did you figure out what you want, ace?" She tugs on her hoodie strings as she scrolls through her phone.

"I kinda want a good ol' burger."

"Burgers and fries sound good right now, actually. Any place in particular?"

"Burger Almighty?" Seonghwa smiles.

"Nice choice. Do you wanna eat there, or take it back home?"

"Take it back home, please. I need to get out of my practice clothes." Seonghwa nods, pulling up the website in order to place an order for pickup. "Ou, actually, wait. Uncle Hwa?"

"Yup?"

"Can we also stop by for ice cream?"

"Of course." He hands her the phone. "Here, pick whatever you want." She smiles and slouches in the front seat, going through the menu options. She goes back and forth for awhile, but Seonghwa patiently waits. He hears his phone ding and doesn't think much about it until Seora pops in once more, finally selecting her options and adding it to the cart. "Someone named Yoori texted you."

"Oh." Seonghwa looks at her. "I'll get to it later."

"She's asking if you wanna come over tonight." Seora smirks before letting out a small laugh. "Dad mentioned you were kinda seeing someone. Is that her?"

"Dad just airing out my business, huh?" Seonghwa laughs before grabbing his phone. "Is that all?"

"Mhm. Besides the ice cream. Thank you, Uncle Hwa."

"Course." Hwa quickly texts back that he might stop by before he gets home tonight, but he'll let her know.

"So, are you seeing her? Kinda seeing her, whatever that means? What does it mean to be kinda seeing someone?" Her questions are coming back to back and Seonghwa can't help but chuckle dryly as he drives out of the lot and towards their first destination.

"We're.. figuring things out."

"What's there to figure out, Uncle Hwa? You either like each other or you don't, right?"

"Things can get complicated, ace. Especially when you get older and your wants and needs in a partner become more solidified. Specific."

"Like..?"

"We're both just not sure if we're ready to take that next step. Or, I guess, it's mainly me."

"Then, do you really like her if you question it?"

"I do. I just haven't been in a relationship in awhile, and I was kinda enjoying my freedom." Seora nods, still unsure about this whole idea of relationship complexities and what not. "You get older and you realize you don't wanna waste anyone's time and effort and vice versa."

"I see." Seora looks at him. "If she likes you a lot too, I don't see what the harm is."

"I don't wanna hurt anyone on accident."

"You wouldn't hurt anyone, Uncle Hwa." He smiles.

"Thanks, ace. But your uncle makes mistakes cause I'm human. As with anyone."

"Dad hasn't really dated anyone, either." Seonghwa shrugs, knowing Yunho has tried and has dabbled in it, but it always never went far. Not far enough that Yunho felt comfortable enough introducing them to Seora and opening that door.

"Mmyeah, cause he doesn't feel the need to when he has you." Seora giggles.

"I like it, though. Just us two."

"Would you be mad if your dad started dating again?"

"Um, I'm not sure."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess it depends? If I like the person or not."

"Of course he'd make sure you're happy and that you'd get along well with the person."

"Mmyeah. It'd be an adjustment, though. I'm used to it being just us two."

"I know, and your dad is, too. But, he does deserve to be happy, right?"

"What else can make him happier than me, Uncle Hwa?" He laughs and shakes his head.

"You're right. He is happy." Seonghwa pauses. "Seora, promise me one thing?"

"I can try?"

"You'll keep your mind open to it? You know.. your dad dating and possibly opening the door for another person to step in."

"Mm, sure." She says before there's a brief pause in the conversation. "Sometimes, I wonder what it'd be like to have a mom. I barely got time with mine." She says softly, her voice tapering off at the end of the statement.

"And it was unfair to you." Seonghwa lets out a breath as he navigates the tricky streets of the city, almost nearing their endpoint.

"Right? Like.. I wonder how it feels to hang out with your mom, or to go on dates with her. Talk to her about girly stuff. Do our hair and makeup together. Nails. Go shopping." Seonghwa turns to her as he stops at a red light, watching as her eyes continue to focus on the surroundings outside. "Dad tries his best. He always tries to do things with me so I don't have to wonder too much, but sometimes I can't help it."

"That's okay, Seora. He knows. He does try his best always, but he knows that question will always be there." She's silent again for a moment, and Seonghwa isn't sure if she's missing her mom or trying to replay the memories that she has left of her. It breaks his heart because he knows Seora is missing a part of her— she just manages to mask it well.

"Yeah." Is all she responds with me. "I dunno, maybe one day I'll remember what it's like." She says softly. "I have dad for now though, and he's enough."

"One day." Seonghwa repeats after her, not wanting to plunge deeper into the conversation and turn Seora's mood inside out tonight. "Well." He pulls into a spot across the street from the burger place. "There's a convenience store I can run into for your ice cream. What are you craving for?"

"Strawberry, please!"

"That's a good one." He unbuckles his seatbelt before turning to her. "I'll grab our stuff and be back." She gives him a toothless smile and nods, eyes glued onto him as he slams the door shut and locks the car; leaving Seora to her own while she waits patiently in her seat.

Yunho pulls up to Ara's building, parking in the lot after getting through security at the gate. He unbuckles his seat belt and lets out a sigh, dusting himself down before slipping out and heading inside. He presses the front code at the lobby door before stepping inside and heading up to the 3rd floor. When he finally gets to her door, he knocks a few times before stepping back and digging his hands into his pockets.

"Yunho." She says, a smile on her face. She's in a cute baby blue sweater and jeans, white chucks on her feet. It's more of a casual thing, nothing too serious or too fancy. It makes Yunho a little more comfortable that way. Less pressure. "Hey."

"Hey. You look nice." Yunho smiles at her. "Ready?" She nods. "Hope you're down for some ramen?"

"I can always go for some good ramen." She smiles and makes sure her door is shut and locked before following him back down.

"How was your day off?"

"It was good! I spent the day grabbing groceries and deep cleaning my space. But otherwise, it was nice and relaxing. Just what I needed." Yunho looks at her with a small smile.

"That's good. I'm glad you got to relax for the most part. You definitely need it with how hard you work."

"Thanks." She giggles. "How was work today?" He shrugs, her eyes ogling his figure as they step into the elevator. He's in a white longsleeve and a puffer vest, dark denim and chucks.

"Kinda busy. Things are really ramping up with that new department. I feel like our team is constantly getting pulled into things left and right now."

"Aren't you guys hiring another person?" He nods.

"Hopefully, yeah. I have a few more interviews this upcoming week, but should be wrapping up after that. There's two people that the team and I like so far."

"That's good. More help is on the way. A step closer to shedding off some of your workload." Yunho chuckles a bit.

"Yeah, that's the hope. Taehyun has been a lot of help, though. It hasn't been entirely bad."

"That's good to hear." Yunho swings the door open to the passenger's seat, giving Ara the opportunity to slip in and get herself comfortable before he shuts the door and hops in.

"Heat okay? Too hot?" He asks as he starts up the car and pulls up the directions to a popular ramen shop that just opened last month. The wait is outrageous, but luckily, Yunho threw them onto the waitlist as soon as they opened for dinner. They'll get there just in time for their table to be ready.

"No, it's perfect."

"Cool." He says, pulling off to begin their journey deep into the city. Ara watches as he drives off flawlessly with one hand, leaning onto the middle console. It's no lie that Ara has always had a crush on Yunho, and she's always thought he was incredibly attractive. She kept her distance though, supporting him as a friend and being careful not to be in too, too deep with her feelings because she didn't wanna scare him off or make him uncomfortable. When he finally asked her out to a casual dinner , she was excited. Butterflies swarming her tummy at full speed— she feels like her patience is paying off.

Maybe this will blossom into something; the one thing she had hoped for with him.

"How's Miss Seora doing?"

"She's good. Still getting good grades and playing basketball. She's hanging out with her Uncle Seonghwa right now." Ara smiles.

"That's cute. It's really sweet how you guys are close."

"Yeah, he's helped me alot with Seora. She loves having her uncles around. Gives her something new to deal with besides her own father." She laughs.

"I'm sure that girl loves and appreciates you more than anything, Yunho. You're a great dad."

"I try to be." He shrugs. "Although, she used to hate when I tried to do her hair and dress her up. She said I mixed and matched clothes way too much and her ponytails were always lopsided."

"You did your best." Ara laughs a little louder. "Doing hair and dressing up a baby girl is not for the faint of heart."

"Truly isn't." He laughs, while Ara points at his pinky nail.

"I see she painted your nails?" Yunho briefly looks down at his two pinkies, painted with black nail polish.

"Sure did. She kept it minimal, though. For work, she says. Just a lil touch." Ara giggles.

"You two are cute."

"Mm, we try to be." Yunho jokes. The conversation continues on as Yunho drives the last 10 minutes to the ramen shop, finding parking right around the corner despite the busy streets and the long line that's forming right outside of the restaurant. He helps Ara out of the car before locking it up, walking alongside of her until it gets too tight to do so. He guides her by the small of her back, pushing her towards the front of the restaurant where the host is. As guessed, they arrive right when their table is ready, the host immediately showing them to their table in the back corner.

She settles into the chair across from him before thanking the host and taking the menu from her hands. They instantly skim their options, with Yunho already deciding on what he wants. He marks it off on the sheet, along with any modifications he wants [extra spicy, extra green onions], while Ara does the same. When they're ready to submit their orders, Yunho calls over the server, handing them their order papers before clasping his hands together—elbow resting on the table as he looks over at her. She's trying her hardest not to blush while sipping on her water, eyes avoiding eye contact cause Yunho makes her feel a certain way.

He just doesn't know if he can reciprocate the feeling.

Truthfully, if he's being all the way honest— he went into this thinking it'd be chill. Harmless in a sense. Putting himself out there since he didn't have much to lose. He knew Ara's had feelings; even if she never said it out loud, it's pretty obvious. And not to say she isn't a great girl, no. She's great. She's been a good friend to Yunho, and she's incredibly sweet. He couldn't really tell you why he didn't see her in that light, though. Perhaps, he still wasn't ready for a relationship. Or, maybe he was and he already had a feeling that she wouldn't be the right one.

Maybe he's being too critical.

But all he knows, is that in this moment, Ara is giving him heart eyes and she's blushing over everything he does. It makes him feel good, but the other half of him feels bad because when he looks at her, he just sees a friend. Good company.

The night is still early.

Yunho is trying to remind himself.

When the food arrives, they get to eating right away. In between, Yunho dives a little deeper into his dynamic with Seora, touching up on the fact that he doesn't really get a long with his parents but will bear with them solely because of her. Even though they don't do much for their granddaughter, she still wonders about them and how they're doing. She always talks about seeing them soon even though Yunho can never promise that she will. He doesn't talk about Eunha, though. Kinda leaves the conversation at that. He feels like he needs to build a better connection with someone in order to open up about that part of his past. Not only is it too painful, but it's a subject that makes Yunho incredibly vulnerable.

The good thing with Ara is that she doesn't budge nor does she push. She ends up talking a lot about her childhood and growing up with her parents in exchange. She has lived a pretty good life; her parents supporting both her and her sister throughout all their endeavors. Her sister works abroad in the fashion industry, while Ara decided to take the healthcare route. Her parents were supportive nonetheless, pushing them to strive for their dreams and supporting them through every opportunity that came their way. Yunho thinks it's nice that they have that sort of relationship— it speaks volumes to the way Ara carries herself and how sweet she is. She makes a great nurse, a great daughter and sister; and it almost makes her a little too perfect.

Which, isn't bad.

But, also isn't great for Yunho. Because all he is made of is flaws and all; he's got a lot of things he lacks in, he feels. He hasn't been in a serious relationship since Eunha passed and he isn't even sure he knows what the word love is anymore. What it's like to love and be loved. He doesn't focus on himself a majority of the time because that time and attention goes to this daughter. He wouldn't have it any other way, let's get that straight.

However, it's clear Ara has this 'perfect' image of him in her head when he is far from that. He is merely getting by; things hurt the fuck outta him and he stresses over every little thing. He gets overwhelmed easily, anxious, can barely let go of the past trauma.

He doesn't wanna disappoint her. Anyone, as a matter of fact.

The conversation continues until they've both slurped up the last bits of their ramen, and Yunho genuinely enjoyed it once they've stopped talking so deeply. Conversations come easy with Ara and he does like that. He doesn't have to try too hard to think about what to talk about next or how to carry the conversation. Brief pauses in between don't feel awkward.

It's nice.

After dinner, he pays for their meal and turns down Ara's efforts to pay for her half. They joke and tease on the way back to the car, with Yunho turning up the music a tad bit louder this time around so it helps fill the empty space in the car. He feels himself getting a little exhausted, but when Ara looks at him with those eyes and asks if he wants to come up for a bit, he finds himself confused; he should be saying no, but he ends up with:

"Sure." Yunho gives her a tiny, toothless smile as she leads the way back up to her loft. Yunho feels bad for even thinking about going back on his decision because it feels pretty intimate to be coming into someone's space after dinner. He doesn't wanna be rude, though. And, he did enjoy their talk over dinner.

So, he continues despite the inner turmoil that's starting to form.

Back upstairs, Ara kicks off her shoes first before Yunho does. He stands awkwardly near the door while she sets her things down, following her into the living room area once she starts padding over. He plops onto the couch and settles into it; leaning back to rest, arm positioned on the back edge of the couch. Ara gives him a glass of water before sitting down next to him, and Yunho feels himself tense up a bit when he feels her leg brush against his. She's got some kind of psychological thriller show on, and Yunho's trying his best to get invested as it continues to play. Ara gives him a little bit more context to the show, describing it with such big eyes and an excited tone that Yunho finds it pretty cute.

Then, at some point, she has somehow shifted in her position and is now sitting right against him. He still has his arm on the back of the couch, and she has slotted herself in that opening— sitting criss-crossed as she continues to watch her show. He feels her warmth against his, and he's not sure how to act.

She probably feels how stiff and rigid he is.

"You okay?" She asks and he gives her a smile.

"Yeah, why?"

"I dunno. You got quiet."

"I'm trying to keep up with your show." She laughs.

"It's a lot."

"All good. It's interesting." He looks down at her. She doesn't say anything, but her eyes are glazing over his features. He watches as she scans his face, down to his lips, and he feels himself swallow thickly because he knows where this is going. She's the first to pull up— suddenly pressing her lips against his in that brief moment they shared and Yunho indulges in it. They hold the kiss there for a second longer before Yunho [mistakenly] deepens the kiss and pulls her onto his lap. The kiss heightens quickly, the show in the background long forgotten. He lets out a shaky exhale in between kisses, with Ara gently pressing herself down against him. She takes Yunho's hand and guides it up her stomach, to her chest— landing on her breast. His eyes widen a bit, the shock causing him to slightly pull back from the kiss to try and read her. She nods though, subtly biting her lip as she leans forward to kiss him again; a soft moan releasing from her lips when he squeezes the flesh in the palm of his hand while she starts to pepper kisses along his jaw, neck.

And as much as he can easily fall into this, say fuck it and just go with it— that's not who he is.

"Wait." Yunho pries his lips off of hers, his hand retracting from her body. "Wait." He repeats.

"What's wrong?" She asks, eyes still full of desire, lust. He can see the way she looks at him and it's even more of a reason to push off. Reality hits tough, and Yunho thinks this is a prime example of when it's both a blessing and a curse.

"Ara, I'm sorry. I'm—" He looks at her with his big, brown, sad eyes. Because it's not her at all, it's him. He's just not into this and he doesn't really know how else to tell her. "I can't." She sinks into her seat and Yunho feels so, so bad. "I don't wanna do that to you." He sighs and scoots back a bit. "You're great, you really are. But, you deserve someone who is sure of you. I'm sorry I can't be that person. I just— I just think we're good as friends." He sighs. "I'm sorry if I had lead you on or gave you any mixed signals, that wasn't my intention." He says softly, and Ara can't even be livid at him because of how genuinely sweet and apologetic he's being. "I shouldn't have come up here—"

"Yunho, it's okay." She says with a forced, reassuring smile, hopping off his lap because damn, this is awkward. Not only does the rejection hit her hard, but she must look desperate and way too needy for him now. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to move so quickly, I thought—"

"You don't have to apologize." Yunho stands and gathers himself. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's just.."

"We're better off as friends." She finishes the statement and he can't help but shrug. He doesn't know how to explain it, but he doesn't want her to think she did anything wrong.

She didn't.

"I hope you believe me when I say it isn't you. You are amazing and anyone would be lucky to have you. I—I haven't done this in a long time and quite frankly, I don't think I'm ready."

"Or maybe, it's just not me you want. And that's okay, Yunho. You're probably right— maybe we are just better off as friends."

"I'm sorry." He says weakly. "I really hope I didn't mess this up because I'd still like for us to be the same as we were before."

"No, of course not." She says even though it's obvious she's got tears welling in her eyes and she's hurt. Yunho feels his heart drop, but at the same time, he knew he had to stop it before it could get too deep—

Before he could make a terrible mistake; do the unthinkable to someone he cared about as a friend first and foremost.

"Ara."

"I promise it's all okay." She nods. "I agree with you, and we shouldn't force this if it's not meant to happen." She gives him another forced smile.

"I'll head out and give you some space. I'm sorry." Is all he can respond with. He walks over to her door and slips back into his shoes before looking back at her. She purses her lips and doesn't say much, and it makes Yunho feel like he's already ruined this.

Damn, Yunho.

"I'll see you on Monday, yeah?" She nods quietly again while opening the door for him.

"Thanks again for dinner. It was great. I can send you my half—"

"No, no need. Dinner was on me, remember? It's totally fine." He gives her a tiny, toothless smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." She answers, allowing him to walk further down the hall before shutting the door and getting back to her own peace. She's hurt, not gonna lie. She truly felt like there was hope, especially with the texts exchanged and the way he was good to her tonight. But, looking back at it, it could have been her fault for completely assuming and jumping the gun— it was Yunho just being Yunho.

Oh well.

Maybe things will be better in the future, and the timing would align. She understands he has different priorities right now, and that's okay. Who is she to determine that for him?

Yunho gets back into his car and lets out a hefty sigh, sitting there for a second before grumbling a low 'fuck' to himself. He feels really bad and he knew he should've dropped her off and left it at that.

But, no.

He had to go and be stupid about it.

At least he can say he tried, right? That should count for something.

"Wanna put up another movie? Your dad's date—" Seonghwa pauses and looks at Seora as she furrows her brows at him. They had put on a movie after Seora freshened up for the evening. She didn't have too much homework, so she finished up the last bits with the first movie on before they had indulged in dinner. Now, her and her Uncle Hwa were eating ice cream, looking at more movie options to throw on until her father would get home. "Your dad's team dinner should be done by now."

"Date?"

"I didn't say that."

"Uncle Hwa."

"What?" Seora gives him one last look before pinching him on the bicep, causing him to let out a yelp. "Swear! I don't know where you heard that from." He cocks a brow up playfully. "It's a team dinner."

"Oooookay." She playfully cuts her eyes at him before going through the movie options. "You can just say so."

"Ou, look." Seonghwa diverts her attention to the TV and points at a movie to put on. "Let's watch Rogue One, I haven't seen that one in a minute."

"Or, we can watch Degrassi or—"

"You definitely don't need to poison your brain watching that mess."

"You sound more like my dad than my dad." Seonghwa scoffs as he takes the remote and puts on Rogue One.

"You need to watch more educational things. Like Rogue One. Stepping into your powers and using them for good."

"They're a group of rebels, Uncle Hwa."

"A group of rebels preventing mass destruction!" Seora sighs as she sits back and finishes the rest of her ice cream, knowing her uncle is very much into Star Wars and lets him have it. It's quiet for a moment before she pops in again, asking about his plans for tonight.

"Have you decided?"

"On what? How I'd use my powers for good?" His eyes are trained on the tv.

"No, silly. If you're meeting Yoori." He looks at her before returning his attention back to the TV.

"Why does it matter if I do or not?"

"Uncle Hwa, you can do whatever you want. Just don't mess up because you're too afraid to admit your feelings."

"Hey!" He looks at her with a brow cocked up. "How do you even know about things like that?"

"I'm about to be 12."

"Yeah, you were born yesterday." She playfully rolls her eyes and scoffs. "You shouldn't be knowing things like that."

"Please. I am right, aren't I?"

"I don't know if I'm going to go yet because I have work tomorrow."

"I hear excuses." He gasps.

"Jeong Seora—"

"Yo!" Yunho walks in right at that moment, causing Seora to shift her attention to the door; tormenting her uncle now a long lost thought in her head.

"Dad!" Seora squeals and runs over to her dad, koala'ing him and causing him to laugh when she hangs onto him like tomorrow will never come. "You're home!"

"I am."

"How was your team dinner?" Seonghwa looks at him, wiggling his eyebrows while Seora is still preoccupied with grabbing her dad's attention.

"Date, you mean."

"What?" Yunho looks down at her.

"Uh, Uncle Hwa said you went out on a date." Yunho knits his brows at Seonghwa and all he can do is shrug.

"No, I never said that." Hwa cuts in to lie again. "I said team dinner. Anything else you heard was created by your own mind." Yunho glares at him.

"Did you?" Seora looks up at her dad, chin pressed against his chest while she keeps her arms around him.

"It was just a team dinner, is all."

"Sure." Seora sarcastically says before unwrapping herself from him and walking off to the bathroom. "It's fine or whatever, you know!" She shuts the bathroom door.

"See you've managed to talk to Seora about a lot."

"Sorry, it kinda slipped out." Seonghwa chuckles and Yunho mocks him. "Besides, she was just grilling me about Yoori."

"How did that happen?"

"Yoori texted me earlier asking if I wanted to come over while ace was putting in her order. She was scolding me right before you walked in. That girl is way ahead of her time."

"Been knew that." Yunho chuckles.

"How'd it go? Did you and Ara do anything?"

"Anything as in dinner, yes?" Yunho is confused, even though he knows exactly what Seonghwa is picking at.

"Okay.. and?" Yunho sighs and shakes his head.

"Kissed her but didn't go very far." He mumbles lowly.

"Why not?"

"I just wasn't feeling it, honest to god. I didn't wanna do that to her." At this point, Seora swings the door back open, causing both Seonghwa and Yunho to turn their attention down the hall before looking at each other.

"We'll talk about this later." Hwa chuckles a bit. "Should've gone all the way." He says barely above a whisper.

"No." Yunho almost scoffs while he grabs his things and prepares to head out. "Get out." Unbelievable.

"On my way, boss." Seonghwa laughs. "Let me go say bye to ace." He walks down the hallway, giving Seora another big, tight hug before heading out. Yunho gives him one last final goodbye before shutting the door and locking up for the night, heading in to catch up with Seora and hang out with her before the night ends.

"So, really dad. How did your team dinner go?" She smirks as she comes back outside and plops on the couch. Yunho chuckles a bit before shrugging.

"The usual. It was.. good bonding time."

"Hm." She hums. "That's good. What did you guys get to eat?"

"Ramen."

"A fine choice for this cold evening." He laughs.

"Wanna continue a few episodes before we call it a night? I'm just gonna change."

"Sure. Do you want me to grab you a bowl of ice cream? I made Uncle Hwa buy me some strawberry ice cream after picking up our burgers. Ice cream is the best when it's cold out."

"That sounds good, ace. Thank you." She smiles while getting up to grab a bowl of ice cream for her dad, excited to finally spend the rest of the evening with him all to herself.

"Dad! My friends are waiting." She pouts a bit, staring at her father as she stands near the passenger door, watching as he slips into his shoes.

"Seora, I promise you I'm coming." Yunho pats his jeans down before doing one final check around the house to make sure everything has been shut off post-breakfast. Meanwhile, you've parked your car near your parents' front gate, grabbing your bag from the front seat before looking at the house and letting out a sigh. You'd give your parents some time today, accompanying them to buy groceries and while running other errands. You knew it'd be a long day, but you did owe it to them.

You needed to do better, you reminded yourself.

Just as you're about to make your way towards the gate, a familiar face comes popping out of the next door house— causing you to pause in your motions and furrow your brows in pure, utter confusion.

Yunho?

"Hi?" You look at Yunho [clearly confused] as he hurries along to the driver's seat. He does a quick double take before pausing briefly, also giving you the same look you gave him a few seconds ago.

"Hey?" He says. "You're—"

"Yeah. My parents."

"Dad, please—" Seora swings the door open. "Oh my god— we're gonna be so late." He lets out a small sigh as he checks the time and realizes they won't be late— his daughter is just eager to get to her friends per usual.

"Seora." He calls her name once more. "You're not gonna be late, okay? Relax." He turns to you with a small smile. "Sorry. Gotta run. I'll talk to you later? Say hi to your parents for me." You give him a small nod before he slips in. You watch him talk to his daughter while slipping on his seatbelt, wasting no time to pull away and drive off shortly afterwards.

"Hey you!" Your mom says, coming down to unlatch the gate.

"Hey. Yunho is your neighbor?" Your eyes are still on the road.

"Yeah, you've met him before at work? I didn't think you two ever crossed paths at the hospitals."

"We don't, but we're working on a big project together now." Your mom smiles from ear to ear.

"He's a good man. Seora, she's growing up to be such a lovely young lady. They're sweet. Such peaceful neighbors. Cutest duo I know." She drags you inside. "Go say hi to your dad, he's in the sunroom watering his plants. Tell him we should eat so we can go." She starts prepping the servings. "Where's Wonwoo?"

"Busy." Your mom gives you a look. "But, we're coming back next weekend. He just made plans already and can't flake."

"I'm sure his friends would've understood if he told them he was visiting his parents."

"Mom. We're coming back next weekend, okay? Please let him be" Your mom gives you a look before setting the food down for a late breakfast while you greet your dad and give him a big hug.

"So, sounds like you met Yunho?" Your dad asks as you both walk back inside to finally before heading out to run errands.

"I did. Well, during a work meeting. Then, I just ran into him not too long ago. Looks like him and his daughter were in a rush to leave somewhere."

"He's taking her and her friends out shopping."

"And how do you know that, Miss Ma'am?" You look at your mom while she places a bowl of rice down in front of you.

"I pop in to check on them from time to time. I dropped off some of this food earlier so they could eat it later."

"Do you always bring them food?"

"Most of the time."

"Your mom cooks with them in mind." Your dad adds.

"Oh, hush. I feel bad for the two sometimes. Yunho's been doing it all by himself." Your mom clicks her teeth, mainly out of guilt and worry. The three of you continue to eat away at the food your mom prepared, getting some fuel in to save money on food. "His wife passed away when Seora was just 4 years old."

"Honey." Your dad says. "Can you not tell his whole life story?"

"Why not? I wanna know."

"Then ask him." Your dad says, suddenly getting protective of Yunho. "I know you feel bad, but you should let him tell his story if he wants to."

"Your dad is such a grump."

"Okay, no. He's kinda right." You agree before getting way too ahead of yourself. It is a sensitive subject, and it shouldn't be told by anyone else other than Yunho himself.

"He's a really good guy, though. You should get to know him. Wonwoo, too. Maybe you two will learn a bit more about discipline and spending time with your loved ones before it's too late." You roll your eyes even though there is truth to the statement.

"Anyway, enough about that. Where are we going today?"

"Well, we have a bunch of groceries to grab. I also need to stop by the pharmacy to pick up my medicine."

"We need to stop by the furniture store too. We've been planning to replace the couch in the living room because of the wear and tear. I think it's time." Your dad reminds your mom.

"Do you guys know what couch you want already or are we gonna shop there?"

"Gonna shop there."

"I do need to find a new shelf for my room."

"See, spending time with your parents can be beneficial."

"Dad, can you please tell her to stop?"

"Honey. She's here, okay? Your son is coming next weekend. All is well."

you: she's doing it again

wonwoo: sorry dude 😖 i'll be there next weekend to take it all

wonwoo: where are you guys going?

you: groceries, pharmacy, furniture shopping

wonwoo: actually sounds kinda fun

you: yeah? then why aren't you here, dumbo

wonwoo: i'm currently in a cabin near the south end 😎 living in peace

you: bye

While you've managed to peacefully eat the rest of your meal with your parents before heading out, Yunho and Mingi are walking around the department store while the girls go from floor to floor, section to section. They managed to snag some coffee before heading in, Yunho already exhausted from picking up Seora's friends to fighting over parking in the already-full mall garage. He's glad he finally gets a moment to chill out for a second, despite the girls squealing and being loud about how cute certain clothes or items are. He's already bought some of her stationary needs, along with a new color-way of Nike dunks she had been eyeing since release.

His wallet will be crying even more in due time, but it's all worth it if Seora goes home happy and content.

"Seora." She turns to look at her dad. "Not too far, okay?"

"Okay, we're just going over there to the juniors section!" Yunho and Mingi watch them speed off to the other corner before browsing the mens section nearby, Mingi already eyeing a jacket near the front racks.

"So."

"Just ask, Mingi." Yunho spits, making Mingi laugh.

"I see your date with Ara didn't go too well?"

"It wasn't even a date. I just went out to dinner with her and it was fine. We had a good time then, it was what happened after that didn't go well."

"Okay, so? What happened after?" Mingi sips his iced americano while the two of them continue to walk around the store, keeping the girls in eye view ahead.

"We went back to her place, she invited me in." Yunho shrugs. "We were watching stuff on her TV and things kinda escalated. Started kissing her then she tried pushing it further."

"And you said no?"

"Mingi." Yunho looks at him. "You know I'm not like that. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't do it to her. I just can't if I'm not emotionally tied to someone." Mingi nods.

"Nah, that's fair. And probably the right thing to do."

"Probably? It is the right thing to do."

"Right." Mingi responds, a bit distracted by the fine women passing by as they continue to walk around the store. "No, you're right. Sorry." He brings his attention back to his bestfriend. "Assuming Seora didn't know you went out with a lady friend?"

"I don't know, Hwa might've let it slip and I think she believed it but doesn't wanna ask. Or maybe, she doesn't even care." Yunho chuckles.

"I think she'd be fine with you going out on dates, you know? Maybe you don't have to lie to her about it. At some point, she'll need to know especially if you get serious with someone again."

"I'll open up to her about it when I get there. I'm in no rush, though."

"Fair."

"Randomly speaking, I finally saw one of Auntie Love and Uncle Po's kids today."

"Oh, really?"

"She works with me at the hospital. She's at the pediatric unit, though."

"Is she hot?" Yunho clicks his teeth and looks at him.

"Do you ever think about anything else?"

"I'm genuinely asking." Mingi smiles.

"She's pretty."

"What's her name?"

"No."

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Because you don't even know her."

"You want her for yourself, huh?" Yunho just pauses to look at his bestfriend, causing Mingi to smirk while continuing to project. "Selfish son of a bitch."

"I'll deck you—"

"Dad." Yunho and Mingi turn their attention to Seora and her friends, who each have a few clothing items hanging on their arms. "We're gonna go try these on." She points to the dressing room in the far corner behind the juniors section.

"Okay. Uncle Mingi and I will head over in a bit." He subtly elbows Mingi near the rib, causing him to let out a small 'ow.'

"Good, cause I wanna show you how it looks so hurry." She says, turning on her heel to rush over to the dressing room with her friends without batting an eye at her dad and uncle's antics.

"The fuck was that for? Seriously, do you have your eyes on Auntie Love and Uncle Po's daughter?" Yunho glares at Mingi again as they slowly head over to the dressing room.

"I don't know, okay? I barely know her." Yunho sips on his coffee. "We're gonna be working together quite a bit from now on though because of that new department."

"Interesting."

"Interesting?" Mingi gives him a look. "Why are you giving me that look? It was both you and Hwa who told me to put myself out there."

"Yeah, I'm very aware. And that's great! I just wanted to know if she was cute or not." Mingi laughs. "So, what's her name?" He asks again, making Yunho rolls his eyes and let out a sigh.

"Y/N."

"Pretty."

"That's all I'm telling you."

"Mhhhm." Mingi hums and laughs. "Hope it works out."

"Whatever happens, happens."

"Speaking of things happening— are you and Ara still friends?"

"I think so. We didn't end the night entirely on a bad note. At least, I don't think so. I felt bad and kept apologizing, but she said she understood and it was fine."

"You know it's never just that."

"Well, I'm aware I hurt her to an extent. I'm not gonna lie and try to brush that off."

"You think she'll talk to you if you run into her on Monday?"

"Maybe. I hope so. I really do want us to keep being friends."

"Of course."

"And who knows, maybe now just isn't the right time. It could work out later."

"Yeah, maybe. But also, if I can be frank, you really don't seem all that into her. I feel like that dinner would've gone way differently if you were set on her." Yunho shrugs.

"It's not her fault. She didn't do anything wrong."

"I mean, it's fine. You probably can already tell you aren't compatible, plus I know you're thinking about how Seora would get along with her, too."

"Mmyeah. I think she woud've liked Ara, but I think you're right. I don't think we'd be compatible."

"Isn't it kinda early to say that, though?"

"Dunno. You tell me. I'm just going off of my gut feeling. I can't force myself to feel a certain way."

"Touché." Mingi sighs. "It's alright, my guy. We still have time. You'll find someone. Maybe it's Y/N."

"Shut up." Mingi laughs before sipping on his coffee, distractedly heading back to the menswear to grab the jacket he had been eyeing this entire time. While he tries it on and pays for his item, Yunho sits near the dressing room while scrolling through his phone. He finds your Instagram page being recommended to him, which he finds to be somewhat uncanny now that he's been talking about you and running into you [despite being assigned to the same project at work]. He can't help but be nosey, clicking onto your page to scroll through your pictures.

You are pretty.

"Dad." Yunho shifts his attention from his phone to Seora, who is standing in front of him in beige cargo pants and an oversized baseball jacket that looks just like the one he's wearing at the moment. "What do you think about the jacket and pants?" Yunho smiles and nods.

"That looks good, ace."

"I really like that jacket of yours." She points and he nods.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've bought one for you at the time." She shrugs.

"I didn't think too much about it before. Now I want it." He laughs.

"It looks good."

"Okay, I'm gonna try on this one other shirt and sweater and I think I'll be good. Can I buy them?"

"If you promise me you'll wear it more than once."

"I promise!"

"Swear? I better not find it in your donation pile in the next few weeks."

"Dad, I pinky promise. For real."

"Okay then."

"Yay!" She turns her attention to her friends who are also coming out to show each other what they've been trying on. "Oh my god, that's so cute—" She says, heading back into the fitting room and leaving Yunho alone to your instagram page. He continues scrolling through slowly, peeking at your pics from your travels.

You and your friends that he recognizes from the hospital.

Your selfies where the natural light hits you perfectly.

Your candid photos where your smile is genuine and contagious.

You and your brother, your parents that he and Seora adore.

You really are pretty, and there's something about you that is enticing. Intriguing. A 'lil magnetic and alluring.

Maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing to work alongside of you on this project.

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