#it’s been…. how many months since i posted an x reader fic

[wonustars]

In Front of Me (1)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)

⊹ note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ♡ @junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ♡ everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !

⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.

⊹ smut tags: no smut in this part :p ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p

⊹ what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ♡ i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!

prologue. 

Despite your age, you’ve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone. 

In all the years you’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings you’ve harboured for him since the eleventh grade. 

He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldn’t even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his “next step” should be. The doting best friend that you are, you’d gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems. 

“I just, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?” he asked you over the phone. 

Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits. 

Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit. 

“It’s not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?” you ask him, and he pauses to think. 

“I don’t know, but I can’t stay, that would make things worse,” he sighs. “It’s better to just stop this whole thing now.” 

“I agree, but are you sure?” you continue to ask him the same questions you’ve been asking since you were sixteen. 

“I’m sure,” he replies with a heavy sigh. 

“Okay, then goodnight. It’s almost one in the morning,” you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak. 

“I’m not the bad guy, right?” he asks you for reassurance. 

“No, you’re just human Wonwoo. There’s nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,” you affirmed. 

“Alright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers listlessly. 

“Good night, Wonwoo.” 

Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you? 

act one, favorite crime.

chapter one. 

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat. 

The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghan’s living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway. 

It feels like every time you’re with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo haven’t thought about dating, or why you two haven’t decided to take the chance and just be together. 

“You guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,” Wonwoo defends the two of you. 

“You’re telling me in all the years you’ve known her, you haven’t developed feelings for her once?” Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide. 

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond. 

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up. 

Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation. 

“U-uh yeah, Wonwoo’s right, we’re just friends,” you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once. 

“See? Now can you all just get off our backs?” he chastises. 

The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwoo’s friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most people’s, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwoo’s feelings, and you also respect that whenever he’s dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts. 

He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that. 

You’ve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals don’t change just because you love him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else. 

two. 

“Hey, you okay?” Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m alright,” you mutter, but you know you don’t look that way. 

Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when you’re not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite. 

The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least that’s what you like to think. But your heart can’t seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,” he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear. 

You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spill—not like this, not in front of so many people. 

“It was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannie’s house,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend. 

“What did he say?” 

“That he’s never liked me before,” you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye. 

Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesn’t have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate. 

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms. 

It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your university’s dining hall. But you’re thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldn’t help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice. 

“You deserve more than this, I hope you know that,” he whispers in your ear.

three. 

Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwoo’s past relationships is the perfect example. He’s not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?

You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you can’t let go of. No matter how many times you’ve tried. 

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you don’t remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway. 

“Hey, sorry I didn’t text,” Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch. 

“It’s okay, what’s up?” you move to sit beside him. 

“I broke up with her,” He says, shrugging. 

Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache. 

“Well, how did it go?” you ask with a bit of apprehension. 

Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. He’s never been bothered to really break up with someone. 

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. It’s pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that you’re a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another. 

“She was crying, but at least it’s over now,” Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table. 

“Oh.” You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins. 

It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but you’re not sure how to react. There’s a part of you that’s happy to know that he’s single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken. 

Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information you’ve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions. 

“Are you still going to Seokmin’s thing this weekend, though?” you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats. 

He shrugs his shoulders, “If I feel like it. Are you?” 

The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there. 

“I mean, I don’t have a ride so…” you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen. 

“I’ll go since you’re going, that way you have a ride,” he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch. 

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. You’re very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest. 

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything. 

“Thank you for agreeing to go to Seokmin’s so I have a ride,” you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesn’t notice your flustered expression. 

“Thank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head. 

“Of course, what are best friends for?” 

four. 

Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.

 Falling in love with Wonwoo wasn’t gradual at all. 

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.

When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldn’t fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didn’t stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love. 

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea. 

When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates must’ve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man you’re in love with gained attention from people who didn’t even bat an eyelash at him last year. 

It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year. 

Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time. 

When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didn’t invite you for dinner as often, you two didn’t talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice. 

“I feel like I need to break up with Haein,” his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth. 

Haein was Wonwoo’s first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you weren’t.

You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?

Wonwoo’s first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.

“Oh. Why?” was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said. 

“‘Dunno, I just don’t like her anymore,” he admitted effortlessly. 

You didn’t know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically. 

“Well, if that’s what you think is right,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again. 

Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.

History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didn’t want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings. 

Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they weren’t. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones. 

five. 

By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didn’t exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you. 

You’ve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him.  The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him. 

Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that it’s better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic you’ve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios. 

‘What if he likes you back?’ 

‘You never know until you try.’ 

‘Take the risk or lose the chance.’ 

What if. 

Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit. 

The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality. 

A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. There’s excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen. 

7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5. 

There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldn’t help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that it’s something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. 

Everyone had planned to meet at Seokmin’s place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldn’t be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends. 

Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasn’t a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokmin’s was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza. 

Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know he’s outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is. 

The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if it’s just from afar. 

“Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” your voice resounds into the night. 

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car. 

Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling at you. 

The ride to Seokmin’s house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough. 

…

  The clock on Seokmin’s pale white wall is nearing midnight and you don’t want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didn’t catch. She’s Joshua’s childhood friend and he only brought her along because she’s visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings. 

Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokmin’s apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, and that’s what hurts the most. 

“You doing okay?” Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m okay,” you chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about your laugh at all. 

His eyes soften, he knows that you’re not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when you’re trying to save face. There’s a lump in your throat, and if you didn’t have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably would’ve gone to the bathroom to cry. 

“You wanna talk in my room?” he offers, and you’re grateful. 

Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you. 

Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside. 

As you sit on Seokmin’s bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why can’t you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and he’d be the first person you search for. 

Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 

“It’s okay, just let it out,” Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug. 

Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel.  

“I know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,” Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. “You’re so hurt, and it’s taking a toll on you. Please, I can’t bear to see you so sad.” 

His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though it’s not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup, tears staining Seokmin’s white shirt. 

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions. 

“Because, if I was normal, you wouldn’t have to worry about me, about why I’m always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,” you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist. 

“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.” 

“Thank you, Seokmin. I’m so happy that I have someone like you in my life,” you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but he’s still somehow able to hug you even tighter. 

Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo. 

“I’m so tired, I’m tired of feeling like this,” you admit to him. 

Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile. 

“Maybe it’s time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,” he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you. 

“I want to feel better,” you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest. 

“I care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but there’s a point where you’ll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,” he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know he’s right. “In the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in won’t do you any good.” He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said. 

“Thank you, Minnie, I’m so thankful I have you,” you sniffled. 

“And I you.” 

…

Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night. 

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all,” Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them. 

The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokmin’s, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. He’s not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoung’s way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened. 

As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didn’t mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ. 

“Soon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,” Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead. 

“But you love it when I sing,” Soonyoung whines, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“I do, but our friend has had a long night,” Jihoon counters. 

Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. “If you want me to be quiet, I will.” 

“No, it’s okay, I’m actually enjoying it, thank you very much,” you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics. 

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind.  

The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you. 

Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.

Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and you’re scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep. 

1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok? 

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

chapter one. 

Wonwoo’s ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but he’s too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didn’t even say goodbye. It’s the first time you went home from Seokmin’s place without him. 

By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didn’t want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning. 

Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing. 

He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two? 

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

… 

Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up. 

two, wonwoo’s summer before senior year. 

The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over. 

Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that he’d be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him. 

He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldn’t be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldn’t care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldn’t do much but sit back and listen.  

Much to his dismay, his parents hadn’t even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldn’t stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say. 

There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldn’t bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore. 

“Wonwoo! You’re all grown up now, and I can’t believe it,” Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, “You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?” 

Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression. 

“No they do, I don’t know maybe it’s my fast metabolism or something,” he refuted her claims. He couldn’t wait to get out of her sight. 

“You know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,” she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance. 

“Yeah maybe,” he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not you’ve texted him yet. 

It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldn’t be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed. 

[4:15 p.m. kst]  [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved]  [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point i’ve turned all my mirrors backwards]  [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! 🫶]

He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parents’ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit. 

Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat. 

Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all. 

[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment]  [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing]  [you: u better not snitch 😾]  [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS]  [you: ok thats enuff…txt me when u land!]

Wonwoo really missed you. 

…

One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it. 

He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break. 

It was initially his brother’s convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwoo’s shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seongho’s encouragement had finally paid off. 

Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasn’t so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all. 

Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home. 

“You got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,” Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest. 

His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym. 

“Okay! You’re done, that was good,” his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips. 

“Thanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,” he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle. 

Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement. 

“Uh, don’t look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,” Seongho tilted his head in the girl’s direction and Wonwoo couldn’t be more confused. 

“Huh? Are you sure it's me they’re looking at and not you?” 

“I’m serious! You should go talk to her,” Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo. 

“Hyung!” Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses. 

Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation he’d been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord. 

“Hi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?” she asked him, batting her eyelashes. 

“Uhm, I guess? I’m only here for the summer though,” he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say? 

“Oh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.” Haein’s smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwoo’s. 

Wonwoo’s actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun. 

“I’m Wonwoo.” 

“Wonwoo, hmm, that’s a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,” she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep. 

Wonwoo’s mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number. 

They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer. 

To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since he’s been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ah’s words weren’t so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation. 

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon. 

…

The after-effects of Wonwoo’s surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadn’t worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for. 

Wonwoo wasn’t entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on. 

Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time. 

…

Quite like the seasons, Wonwoo’s feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them. 

Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested. 

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didn’t Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didn’t see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks. 

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” Wonwoo couldn’t contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didn’t seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out. 

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,” Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. “I just didn’t get anything that was happening.” 

“Wait, really?” He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didn’t understand. 

He didn’t understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday. 

You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together.  It had become you and Wonwoo’s thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend. 

It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he should’ve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do. 

“Honestly, I’m really tired, I’m gonna go to bed now okay?” Haein’s voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts. 

“Oh okay. Night.” He said before ending the call so quickly that Haein’s ‘I love you’ was cut off mid-sentence. 

Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didn’t want to say those words if he didn’t mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night.  

Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didn’t want to pretend any longer, it would’ve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldn’t help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on. 

Wonwoo’s relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer. 

three, present time.

The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didn’t know that. 

“Are you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?” Mingyu lectures him. 

The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder. He hasn’t been acting like himself since the night of Seokmin’s party. 

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table. 

Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasn’t seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop. 

“Not to be rude, but you’ve been looking like shit lately. What’s wrong?” Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didn’t have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted. 

Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. It’s uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he can’t help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you. 

Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, there’s a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end. 

“Thanks for that, asshole, I just haven’t been getting much sleep,” Wonwoo huffs. 

“Okay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way you’ve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?” Mingyu presses. 

It’s not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, that’s what you were for. However, he can’t talk about his problems about you, to you, so he’ll have to settle for the next best thing.  

“Y/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokmin’s,” Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice. 

For the past two weeks, he’s been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest. 

Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friend’s situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyu’s reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny. 

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare. 

“What?” Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend? 

“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression. 

“I am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if I’ve ever said something to hurt her feelings,” Wonwoo defends himself. 

Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he can’t seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you. 

“You’re a dumbass.” Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more. 

“Could you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me what’s going on?” 

Shutting his laptop, Mingyu’s posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it. 

“She cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. It’s not about what you’ve said to her, it’s your actions. Ever since we were in high school all you’ve done is use her to solve your problems. I can’t even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I don’t know what happened at Seokmin’s place for her to realize that, but you don’t deserve her,” Mingyu confesses. 

Soaking up each word that left Mingyu’s mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he can’t seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you? 

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesn’t want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything? 

Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but that’s romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because that’s how it's supposed to be. 

Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwoo’s whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he can’t anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

“I-I didn’t know that's how you guys saw our friendship,” Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend what’s been said to him. 

“It’s not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I would’ve cut you off a long time ago.” 

“Well, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this could’ve been said before she started ignoring me,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.

“It was kinda obvious, man,” Mingyu shrugs. 

“Was it, though? If I had known, I would’ve at least tried to be better,” Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy. 

“How about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,” Mingyu suggests. 

Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyu’s advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldn’t even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he can’t go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought. 

four. 

For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, he’s unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time. 

Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place. 

Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. He’s such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building? 

After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwoo’s attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye. 

“Shit!” Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you weren’t able to recognize it in the dead of night.  

Boring holes into the back of Seokmin’s head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin. 

The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He can’t help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind. 

He’s never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today. 

Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he can’t ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didn’t go on any longer. 

…

There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times he’s tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind.  Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away. 

There’s a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that you’re still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldn’t pick up.

Wonwoo wasn’t the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways he’s never acted before. 

The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake. 

One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose? 

Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him. 

[12:52 a.m.]  [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?]  [not delivered] 

The silence within the four walls of Wonwoo’s bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list. 

Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwoo’s finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you don’t pick up, then that’s it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms. 

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions. 

The notification is gut-wrenching, but he can’t just sit here and pretend like it’s okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off? 

five. 

Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasn’t been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still continuing to weigh his options. 

It’s either you’ll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or you’ll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect. 

He’s already lost his mind. This shouldn’t be the way you two break it off. It won’t be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation. 

Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. There’s nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison. 

Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, “I think I should be asking you that. You clearly don’t live here.” 

“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. 

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth. 

Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokmin’s expression had said more than his words ever could have. 

Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokmin’s thick skin. 

A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your “neighbour” is looking for. 

“Okay!” is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwoo’s stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen. 

“Whatever you’re doing, she’s not gonna fall for it,” Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could. 

Seokmin chuckles bitterly, “She already has.” 

There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth. 

Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such. 

“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Wonwoo practically spits in his face. 

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.” 

“I’m not just going to let you get away with something like this. She’s my best friend.” 

“I think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,” Seokmin taunted. 

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture. 

Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, “I think it’s time for you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you.”

The last few words that he heard come out of Seokmin’s mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost. 

“By the way, don’t text her anymore. I’ve made sure she won’t get any more notifications from you.” 

The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly. 

…

Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place. 

After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.

With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokmin’s words hold any truth behind them.

 Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldn’t end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same. 

If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you haven’t let him speak. 

As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on? 

Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like it’ll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away. 

After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension won’t vanish and it’s starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing it’ll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin. 

“Minnie? Did you leave something agai—,” Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.

“Wonwoo…” your voice falters, like you genuinely didn’t expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door. 

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions. 

His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesn’t have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home. 

“Did you fuck him? Yes or no?”  Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you don’t know who he's talking about. “C’mon, you know who I’m talking about,” he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him. 

How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying. 

“The past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?” Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness. 

He didn’t plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression could’ve broken down every wall he’s built if only he hadn’t let his anger proceed him. 

Wonwoo should’ve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down. 

“Seokmin doesn’t care about you, and I’ll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?” He can’t stop talking. 

“Stop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?” You cut off his rant. “Out of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesn’t matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesn’t involve you.” 

“No. I’m just trying to help you. Seokmin isn’t the person that you think he is,” Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how you’re twisting his words. 

The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwoo’s extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldn’t stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense. 

“That is exactly what we’re not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years we’ve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice. 

“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldn’t even come up for air. And I’m just sick of it. I know there’s a part of you that cares about me too, but it’ll never be equal. I’ll always love you more than you love me, and I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” 

“What hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didn’t even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about?  He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And that’s a lot more than I could ever say about you.” 

Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words. 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause. 

“Please. It’s late, you should go home,” you sigh, but Wonwoo couldn’t move an inch. He refused. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him. 

“Wonwoo…” there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place. 

“Please. I’m so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,” Wonwoo resorted to pleading. 

A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.

The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too. 

“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.”  A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek. 

He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart. 

Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He should’ve known.

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

end of act one.

⊹ a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.

[stevebabey]

the swindling of steve harrington’s heart

word count: 9.5k synopsis: you write for the advice column in the hawkins post, under the pen name gabby. you get a letter asking for advice about a first date and there’s no way it’s the same guy you’ve just landed a first date with, right? steve harrington doesn’t need help with his dates... right? [based on this post] [fem!reader + strangers to lovers but… steve’s a big sap for you already, ok?]

The first letter comes in on a Tuesday. 

It’s posted in an ordinary envelope, with only a messy scrawl on the front to dictate that it was for the advice column of Hawkins Post. Inside revealed the same loopy letters, on a single piece of paper, reading: 

Out of all the letters you’ve ever received at this job, most of which were lengthy admissions of troubles in suburbia, this one was by far the most interesting one you’d gotten all month. All year if you were being honest.

Writing advice under the pen name Gabby for your local paper likely wasn’t anyone’s first choice of job, not at least for those serious about writing as yourself was.

But between flipping burgers down at Benny’s and slinging shakes at Rita’s Diner, it seemed the lesser of all evils. And hey, it paid decently enough and you had a sweet little set-up in one of the drowsy corners of the office. 

It’s how you wind up here, scanning over the letter from one mysterious S.

It’s penned on some spare paper, nothing special. It wasn’t even lined paper like you might usually use for sending a letter of any sorts. It intrigued you the moment it had been dropped into your basket.

Hands flipping through the 4 other letters in there, rows of soft pink and blue envelopes, all with familiar handwriting, you determined that this one was, indeed, a new writer.

You practically devoured it from the first line. Gossip was rampant in Hawkins, like all small towns, but it was not so often shared so publicly with the paper, despite the anonymity that came with the advice column.

Most people in Hawkins seemed to come for advice on outshining their neighbours with a peach cobbler. Some asked whether jazzercise really was the go. There were very few sad tales of love in between the mush.

But this? Even just from the use of the word crush, you knew this wasn’t the average housewife talking midlife marital issues. This was someone your age.

It’s just a little bit funny, you admit — you, yourself, couldn’t imagine ever turning to the local paper to seek out love-life advice. Especially considering none of your previous replies as Gabby implied you had expertise in that area.

You decided it meant they were truly desperate or perhaps completely a hopeless romantic, or a bit of both.

But you couldn’t lie, either way, it’s entirely endearing to you.

It didn’t matter that it was probably someone who had no ‘game’, it was entirely completely made up by the fact they were clearly trying very hard, very genuinely.

They cared enough about getting things right. Whoever they were wooing was very lucky— re-reading over the short letter shoots a grimy wave of envy through your chest. When was the last time someone cared that much about a first date with you? About any date with you? The answer was… probably, never.

It didn’t help either that you had just landed yourself a date. A date with Steve Harrington.

For just a moment, a very brief moment, you look down at the signed S and wonder: would he?

No, he wouldn’t, you decide swiftly. The fragile hope that briefly hung up on the idea is shaken off as you recall his charismatic nature, his easy grin when he asked you out just the other week.

There had been a bit of nervousness, sure, but when you consider the dating history he’d had through high school, well… You feel embarrassed for even considering it. 

King Steve Harrington doesn’t need help with his dates.

Besides, the letter clearly states this was S’s long-time crush. You were fairly certain that if the school’s golden boy harboured any sort of feelings for you, it wouldn’t have slipped past your radar.

Last time you checked, Steve had only noticed you when you had gone into Family Video the other week — when he had promptly asked if you wanted to see a movie together sometime.

Sure, it hadn’t been nearly as smooth as you expected, though, that wasn’t to say you weren’t charmed. You’d heard a lot about Steve— though, who at Hawkins High hadn’t?

He had been that customer-service type of welcoming, hands braced against the countertop as he leaned into it, a handsome smile on his face.

You had pretended your stare didn’t linger on his arms. Or that you were drinking in all the subtle changes to himself, physically and more, since his primped-up freshmen-self. 

You had even admitted to yourself that he managed to pull off the dweeby Family Video vest, trailing behind him as he led you both to the action-film section.

Steve had stood close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from him, and had helped debate your choice. He didn’t even comment when you got distracted looking at his arms when he crossed them, even though he smiled a little more smugly, having seen your wandering eyes.

Like it was your fault he had gorgeous, tanned, toned arms that made you want to drool.

But even with all his suaveness, Steve still looked surprised when you laughed at his joke, or his attempt at one — and then some of his coolness seemed to flee.

He had fumbled through the whole interaction of checking out your film and asked if you’d like to ‘maybe if you want, totally cool if not’, wanted to watch one with him sometime.

You think you’d say yes all over again just to see the way he had lit up. He positively beamed, then swiftly ducked his head to hide his hasty grin.

Saturday at 8, you’d agreed on. At the Hawk. He’d pay for the tickets and you’d shout the snacks. It’s a date, were his exact words. He had looked extra delighted when you had repeated them back to him with a nervous grin of your own.

It’s what you think of as you peer down at the letter in your hands, loopy scrawls telling a plea in love. You think about what you hope you’ll get on a first date — with Steve or anyone, for that matter — and pull up a new sheet to draft a response.

It’s about the only advice you can give. Truthfully, dates fail for a multitude of reasons that change on a day-to-day basis and if this S just didn’t match with their date, well… that was out of your hands.

But if S liked them this much, enough to reach out to the murky depths of the local paper’s advice column, then they should show that. If nothing else, you’re sure their date would be flattered at their sincerity.

Try as you might not, the letter plagues your mind as you leave work. Your response sits on your desk, penned up and ready to be printed for the Friday morning paper, hopefully giving enough time to your advice-seeking S.

By Saturday, however, it’s the last thing on your mind — it’s hard for anything else to occupy it when it bubbles away blissfully at the thought of your date later in the evening.

You try to not let your thoughts carry away with what Steve might wear, what film you’d watch, whether you’d be able to sneakily hold his hand in the shadows of the cinema.

It plays a romantic pink-saturated loop in your brain, daydreaming of some silly kiss in the back row because Steve just can’t resist, he’s had a crush on you for so long�� okay, maybe the letter was on your mind just a little.

But 8 o’clock whirls around faster than you expect and you arrive outside the cinema with only a couple minutes to spare. You’re more than relieved to see Steve already there, leaning up against the brick wall where the upcoming movies are showcased, bathed in soft golden light. 

He’s got on a pair of dark wash jeans and the polo he’s wearing stretches around his arms deliciously, forcing a giddy sigh from your lips.

There’s a jacket slung over his crossed arms and one of his feet is tapping rapidly against the ground. Even from afar, you can see him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Your heart spurs faster at the sight. He’s nervous.

“Steve!” You call out, unable to help how you’re already smiling like a lovesick fool. It doesn’t help when Steve’s head pops up, his hair bouncing just a bit. He lights up at the sight of you, features moving from worry to something happier. 

He straightens up, back scraping the bricks, and he steps forward to meet you in the middle.

“Hey,” he breathes, a grin stretching over his lips. This close, you can smell the cologne he’s wearing— something musky, with a hint of bergamot — and your head spins, all dizzy with delight.

“Hey, yourself.” You reply as playfully as you can manage. You swallow back another wave of nerves.

Fuck, was he this pretty when he asked you out? In the space of a couple of days, he seems to have gotten even more attractive. He’s got that entire look about him that reminds you of a daydream.

“You look, uh, really lovely tonight.” Steve compliments, tucking his hands into his front pockets nervously. He sounds so sincere it aches, the words worming under your skin til you believe them completely; he really does think you look lovely.

It’s a strange moment of consideration you find yourself having. You’re here, on a date with Steve Harrington and he thinks you look really lovely.

It’s not like you hadn’t heard the rumours about the cosmic shift in the King of Hawkins High — going from sneering at other kids in the hallways to cleaning off graffiti on his own accord. 

Yet, some small part of you is still delightfully surprised, as though it had been unconvinced until you had seen it for yourself. In the past, a part of you had been truly miffed at the waste of a pretty face on a douchebag like King Steve. 

Now, it’s like an entirely different person. When Steve offers you another smile, earnest and sweet, you’re secretly glad to get to be the one who takes a chance on him.

You come to a standstill at the back of the winding line outside the ticket booth, the pair of you lingering closer than needed. The brush of his shoulder against your own feels blazing, a streak of warmth. You hope he can’t feel your resounding shiver— and half-hope that he does and gets closer because of it.

“That— uh, thank you,” you manage to remember your words. Even better, you manage to accept the compliment semi-regularly, even though your insides are knitting themselves into a tangle of nervous anticipation.

“You too. Look nice!” You say, louder than you intend. The girl ahead of you peers over her shoulder and somehow even that’s not enough to keep your mouth from running. “I mean, you sort of always look good. That’s kinda—” you wave your hand over him generally, “—your thing. Looking… nice.”

Dear god stop, you will yourself, mouth snapping shut and eyes following quickly, screwed up in embarrassment. Way to completely disregard the advice you gave a stranger and pile on the appearance-based compliments.

You do your best to hide your wince as you peek your eyes back open. It’s a relief to see Steve chuckle good-naturedly, a delicate pink touching the apples of his cheeks.

“You know,” Steve begins as the line ambles forward slowly. His gaze switches between the ground and you, too nervous to commit to looking you straight on. “I didn’t just ask you out because you’re pretty.” 

He pauses. Rethinks his words and makes a hasty correction. “I do! Think that you’re pretty, that is.”

His quick assurance makes you laugh just a bit and you hide it behind a bitten-back smile. Steve stops examining his shoes for a moment, glancing to check you haven’t taken his words the wrong way.

Your heart feels like it does a forward roll in your chest, seeing his even pinker cheeks. God, in what world do you make Steve Harrington so nervous?

“I just—” Steve continues, shoulders hiking up a bit, another nervous motion. “I don’t want you to think that that’s the only reason, I asked. I like that you’re nice. You’ve always been nice.”

You blink at him. In a moment of clarity, a couple of revelations roll through your mind, each one steamrolling the last one before you can grapple each one properly.

Revelation No. 1. is the fact that Steve had noticed you. Past tense. Noticed you enough to think you’re nice and bookmark that in his brain. He remembers things about you. And then— then he had made a special effort to compliment you. Specifically outside of your appearance.

And hadn’t you just given specific advice like that? You had! You had given advice to an anonymous person known only as S, with instructions for their first date. Their first date with their long-time crush.

Which means... you’re Steve Harrington’s long-term crush. Which means, oh my god, Steve Harrington accidentally wrote into your job to ask you for advice on his date with you.

The result of the revelations, each one blooming quickly as the one before it, leaves you entirely speechless for a moment. Baffled. You gape like a fish, mouth flapping around empty words. You can’t quite compute it. Steve? Steve is the one who wrote to the local paper for advice? Steve Harrington wrote in for advice about a date with you? His long-term crush?

You’re thankful Steve’s nervous enough to not look at you because, for a silent 10 seconds, you’re sure every emotion from ecstatic and bewildered crosses your features. What in the actual hell?

You’re not sure how you expect yourself to continue this date and act like a regular person, knowing what you know.

And, more importantly, should you tell Steve? 

You get about 10 more seconds of floundering to debate it, tossing up a thousand different ways this entire evening could change if you reveal yourself.

Steve would be embarrassed. Steve would be angry. Steve wouldn’t believe you and just think you’re messing with him. Steve didn’t even write the letter and you’ve connected dots that don’t even exist.

You can’t pinpoint which one is the truth. You truthfully don’t know Steve well enough to predict how he might react, no matter how sweet he may have been. A realisation of how quiet you’ve been rolls through you when Steve’s head pulls up, concern knitting his brows together.

Something else altogether comes out of your mouth instead.

“You noticed me?”

Steve goes even more red. It’s a glorious sight and in an instant, you can tell he hasn’t meant to give that much away. The line shuffles forward and Steve seems thankful for it, clearing his throat and eyeing the ticket box ahead like he was wishing you were both there already. There’s only one more couple ahead of you.

“Is that weird?” He says after a moment, his voice a bit smaller than before.

“What?” You say, because it’s the last thing you’re expecting him to say. “No! I’m sorry I didn’t— that wasn’t an accusation!”

You mull over your thoughts, trying your best to put into words how it had actually made you feel. How it had soaked your inside with giddiness, not with worry. 

“It’s... really sweet, actually.” You admit, feeling bold enough to nudge your shoulder against his.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, the question said so earnestly it’s like he’s not quite sure he believes you.

“I mean,” You smile, sneaking a nervous glance sideways at him. He’s watching you, expression hinting at anticipation. You nod, continuing, “I’m glad you didn’t just ask me out because you think I’m pretty.”

The last word comes out a bit strained. It feels strange to admit it out loud even with the way Steve looks at you; little glitters of adoration in his eyes.

“It’s-” You clear your throat and bite back a smile that might be too eager. “It’s nice to be noticed.” 

Steve makes a small sound of content, like some sort of pleased hum. Then the couple ahead of you is moving and it’s your turn to step up for tickets.

You hurry through tickets and snacks, getting a packet of Reese's Pieces, some popcorn, and one huge cup of soda with two neon-coloured straws sticking out. When you duck through the velvet curtains at the theatre doors, arm already looped through Steve’s, it feels like you’re entering not as two people but as something closer. 

The evening whirls by in a lavender haze and Steve is nothing short of everything sweet and charming. Even with his nerves tripping him up now and then, it’s all endearing to you.

You two are the last ones out of the cinema, ushered out by bored employees whose glaring only deepened when they realised you and Steve had conducted a popcorn throwing competition between yourselves. You had been left in the dust, with Steve catching near every piece you threw at him. You were less gracious, salt smearing on your cheeks from so many missed throws. 

By the time you’re both back out the front, the night has found a chill to drape across the evening. The sky glitters darkly. The bulbs surrounding the front of the cinema glow and crackle quietly and you’re pleasantly delighted to find you don’t want to leave just yet.

“Hey,” Steve starts. He’s stuffed his hands in his pockets but you can see them twisting about nervously. “Yanno, I had a really good time tonight.”

You can see the moment he bites his tongue and holds back another sentence. You smile as encouragingly as you can — though something about how well the night has gone has your courage growing, doubling, tripling in size.

“Me too.” You admit. You ignore how your palms start to dampen just a titch and seize the words before your nerve fails you. “Did you— do you want to do it again, maybe?”

Steve nods, a stray strand of his hair escaping with the enthusiasm of the motion. He chuckles a bit, pushes it back, and steps closer. “Yes. I mean, yes, of course. You’re... this was so lovely.”

There’s a stir ecstatically in your chest in his words, which drip in sincerity. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, head ducked in shyness. It’s still strange, for someone to be so forward in their affections to you. “Um, should I- I could give you my number?”

Steve nods again, just as fervently as last time. He’s somehow gotten closer in just the few minutes you’ve been speaking like there’s a magnetism within you that he can’t resist.

“Yeah, totally! Did you — I don’t have a pen, I’m sorry,” He chuckles again. His hand scratches at the back of his neck.

You’re thankful for your insane preparedness, digging through your bag to produce a pen. By the time you pop the cap off it, a green marker, Steve’s already rolled back his sleeve. He holds out his arm.

“Your canvas awaits,” He jokes. Your smile grows into a grin, almost ashamed of how funny you found that. God, crushes made you stupid — though thankfully Steve seems to grin wider at hearing your laugh.

You curl your fingers around his wrist to hold his arm still. He’s warm, hot blood pumping beneath your touch. You try not to focus on how you can feel his pulse under your fingertips, nor how it’s racing far faster than normal. After your number, you hesitate for a moment before adding a quick doodle of a heart. It’s sloppy, not exactly your best work. 

Steve loves it. The moment you release his arm, he thumbs over the heart. Steve looks up at you, an infectious type of smile on his face now. “I’ll give you a call, yeah?”

You nod, tucking your hands in your pocket. You’re unable to stop yourself from rocking up onto the balls of your feet in your excitement. 

“Uh, you should probably call after 9 unless you want to meet my mom already.”

Steve huffs a laugh. “Got it. After 9. No meeting mom just yet.” He promises.

This time, reading the letter feels like there’s sparking gunpowder littered in your very heart — lighting it up in a frenzy of fire in your chest as you read. It’s impossible to do anything except inhale each new word. You felt a little bad, sure, reading a review of your own date but then again, it was your job.

Besides, you’d tell Steve. When... Well, alright, you weren’t totally sure when you were going to tell him.

Definitely not before the next date. It was still fragile — and some part knew that if you told him, there was a good chance Steve would be too embarrassed. Would work himself up over it and it would ruin everything.

It was like... a souffle. You had to take it out of the oven at the right time; too soon, and everything would sink in on itself.

So, you decided to wait it out. Dish out some more advice and... see how the next date went.

You write back, There isn’t such a thing as giving too much away. This girl will be flattered to know you care as much as you do. Take her somewhere special to you.

It’s just enough of a nudge you think. ‘Somewhere special’ was a wide-open prompt that Steve could interpret as he liked. He could pick just how intimate the next date would be. You promise to yourself quietly, that if you get a third date, you’ll tell him then. 

Steve calls you the night after your responding advice is published in The Hawkins Post. 10 minutes past 9pm. He tells you, voice low and sweet, that he’s got a surprise spot in mind.

“If you’re up for that,” Steve hastily tacks on. “We don’t have to. I’m- we can go out for dinner if you’d prefer that. I totally love dinner.”

Faintly through the phone, you hear the quiet noise, like a thud. You have to smother down a giggle as you realise Steve’s smacked himself with the phone in his own exasperation.

“I’m up for a surprise,” You assure him, clutching the phone a bit tighter in your excitement. “That sounds fun.”

“Fun,” Steve echoes, with a tone of disbelief. Like he hadn’t believed you’d agree until, well, you had. “Yes! It’ll be fun. So much. I hope so. When are you free?”

His words come out so quickly. You can’t hide your laugh this time, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to try to dissuade the giddy grin threatening your lips. No dice. Nothing can stop your elation.

“What kind of surprise are we talking about?” You ask first, thinking over your next words, wondering if you’re brave enough to say them. You take the leap. “Because, well, I know it’s a Tuesday but I’m free tomorrow night and—“

“Yes.” Steve cuts in eagerly. “Tomorrow night, let’s do it. I can pick you up?”

“Okay,” you agree, nodding even though he can’t see it. You don’t think your grin can’t get any wider, barely contained enough to relay your address for him to jot down.

Tuesday evening is soft, the sky a pale blue that washes warmth over the day. Steve picks you up on time. He’s handsome as ever, leaning up against the driver's side door as he waits for you.

Your heart does a little skip when he straightens up upon spotting you, perking up like he had at the cinema. It reminds you faintly of a dog wagging its tail; his happiness at seeing you so visible to see. 

“Did you get prettier since the last time I saw you?” He says, in lieu of greeting as you trot down to meet him. You feel heat bloom beneath your cheeks.

“I-” Your nerves creep up and honesty takes over your words. “I don’t know how to answer that.” You titter out a laugh, a smile tugging at your mouth.

Steve hums as you come to a stop before him. He pretends to give you a serious once over, his eyes light and smile easy. His gaze comes back up to rest on your face before he nods firmly.

“Mmhm, it’s just as I expected.” He reports back, soft and genuine. “Prettier in every way.”

You laugh again, nervousness bleeding into the sound but his words sink into your skin warmly. Fingers twisting into your sweater, you try to rein in your rabbiting heart.

“You’re a goof, anyone ever tell you?”

Steve grins. “Never said I wasn’t. Now, your chariot awaits.”

He sweeps an arm to the car behind him.

He’s right, it is a surprise. You’re not entirely sure where you’d been anticipating — maybe his favourite spot to eat? But instead, he takes you to a clearing, with blankets of grass and wildflowers dotted across the landscape.

For a moment, when you creep out from his car, hands still clutching the edge of the door, you wonder if this is how he found Skull Rock and the likes — that maybe Steve Harrington was an explorer by nature. You think back to your advice and wonder; what makes this place special to him? 

Your heart twists, knowing that he’s taken your advice, even if some part of you tears up in guilt. You will tell him. You take solace in knowing there’s not much to be guilty of; telling him the best way to woo you is hardly terrible manipulation.

Sure, it’s swindling but... of the sweetest kind. You lead him to your heart and in return, get to steal his own.

Steve’s brought along a blanket and picnic for the two of you. There are crudely cut sandwiches, though you don’t doubt he’s tried his best, paired with punnets of ripe fat strawberries. It’s... adorable. Dizzily endearing, how much effort he’s put in for you.

Your heart aches a little more at his pink cheeks as he unpacks all this for you like he’s worried what you’ll think. He is worried about what you’ll think, you realise. Despite all you’ve heard and known about King Steve, your mind winds up thinking back to his letter... I don’t want her to get freaked out if I come on too strong.

A fire of determination burns in your chest. Loving loudly would never be— could never be something to hide. Nor to feel embarrassed over, not with you at least.

So, you start by trying to feed him a strawberry, like a thousand romance novels have taught you. Instead of a cute gesture, you smush it into his cheek instead by accident as he turns his face suddenly. An apology squeaks out of you.

“I’m— oh my god, I’m so sorry,” You’re wiping the red juice splattered on his cheek, your own cheeks feeling fiery and hot. Steve takes your endless apologies well, assuring away the beginnings of your mortification.

He only manages to truly stop your flow of embarrassed apologies by squishing a sandwich against your cheek as well, just to make it fair — a peel of your laughter fills the field, some of your nervousness floating away with it.

Then, just as you had, Steve wipes off the smear of cream cheese on your chin with his thumb, the motion soft and gentle. Your nerves jump around again.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you begin, finally asking the question that’s been burning since you arrived. “Because I’m loving this date but… Why did you pick this spot?” 

You’re careful to word your question in a way that doesn’t give away what else you know. Beside you, Steve takes a moment to think. His eyes scan over your face before he tilts it back to face the clearing, his arms resting on his propped up knees.

He’s just a boy. A pretty boy on a picnic rug he brought along to your date, in a field of flowers that he took you to. You have the thought to compare him to a painting in this moment right as Steve starts to speak.

“I came up here a whole lot after,” Steve heaves a loud sigh like he’s regretful for what he’s about to bring up. “After me and Nancy broke up. It was good to get out of town and just, like, have my own time to think. To think about what I really wanted.” 

You dare to ask. “And did you figure it out? What you really wanted?” 

Steve glances over at you and smiles crookedly. It’s one of his real smiles, you’ve come to realise. “To not get my heart broken again, for starters. That just— that shit sucked, you know?” 

He laughs a little bitterly, more to himself, and steals another glance at you, like his words are a test and he’ll find an answer in your expression. You smile gently, hoping to convey every softness that you have for him. Every good intent. 

“Well, m’not looking to do that.” You admit truthfully. “Maybe, I’ll… I’ll ease the ache?” 

Steve seems to soften at your words, relaxing. His shoulders drop an inch. “I hope so.” 

“And maybe, I want a little bit of loverboy Steve Harrington for myself too.” You say, your smile turning more coy. It’s true that loverboy was one of the nicknames for Steve tossed around Hawkins High halls but it hadn’t really stuck the same way The Hair or King Steve had. Except for, well, secretly with you.

“Loverboy?” 

“That’s what they call you!” 

“And who are they?” Steve asks, some of his signature charm creeping back in. He smirks at you, leaning in closer and your breath hitches nervously. You grin despite it. 

“People!” 

“Uh huh…” 

Time flows easily around the two of you, weaving like the softest cocoon. As the sunset blossoms, the grassy clearing becomes breathtaking. The moment the sun dips below the horizon, dimming the sky and encouraging out the stars, you suddenly know why this is Steve’s special spot.

He stretches out on his back, eyes to the sky. You copy him. Two little bodies cocooned in the sweet grass, wrapped in the night-time.

“This might seem strange,” Steve starts. His brows are bunched together, thinking hard, but his expression lightens as he turns his face to you. “But... Thank you for coming out here with me. For trusting me.”

A beat of quiet. A wind ruffles over the clearing, a soft whistle in the night. Steve swallows nervously. “Was it a good surprise?”

His question is so earnest it aches. It’s so obvious that he just wants to do this right and well for you.

You know now that even without your advice through the paper, Steve would have charmed you all the same. That you might’ve taken another route and it might’ve taken another couple of dates before you got here, sharing secret spots— but that you’d end up here, with him, regardless.

“It was,” you tell him truthfully, chest glittering with happiness. You smile at him, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Thank you for showing me.”

Steve grins. He turns back to face the sky, eyes cinching shut for a moment. Breathes in the moment. You admire the dimple of his smile. His pretty mouth. His eyes peek back open as turns back to you, voice dropped down into a whisper, “You’re welcome.”

It feels like a little more than you’re welcome — like maybe, he’s thanking you too. You’re really thanking yourself too, for wandering into Family Video when you had, for saying yes to Steve, for giving yourself this chance with him.

Moonlight shadows across his face, strong brows and sloped nose even more defined in the dark. You stare, eyes dragging from mole to mole, avoiding his intense brown eyes that threaten to make everything in your chest melt pathetically.

Shit, is he going to kiss you? Your stomach jumps with a spike of pure want and you move forward— right as Steve sits up. Embarrassment flushes down your spine and you recoil back, sitting up quickly as Steve had but not quick enough.

“Wait,” Steve says suddenly, twisting to glance at where you’d both been lying just a moment. In your panic, you don’t hear the eagerness in his voice. “Were you gonna—?”

Somehow, it seems more embarrassing to admit it aloud. That you might have been ballsy enough to kiss Steve first. You shake your head without thinking about it, arms coming to curl around your knees. Fuck, you wish you had read that moment right.

“Uh,” You spit out stupidly. “No, no, it was just…” you clear your throat. The awkwardness of the moment is nearly painful.

“I mean, yes,” you correct yourself quietly, clearing your throat again. You don’t want Steve to think you don’t want to kiss him. “I was, but—“

“You were?” Steve sounds close to devastation. His expression has crumpled a bit, regret rippling off him in waves. Your stomach turns.

“It’s okay!” You assure him hurriedly. “It’s— you know, the moments gone but there’s always… next time, right?” Your voice comes out a bit tight.

Steve seems a tad bit relieved at your words, shoulders deflating an inch or so. He nods along, even though you can still see the tinge of embarrassment on his face — it’s adorable, that he’s the one feeling embarrassed like it wasn’t you who made a move at the wrong time.

“Yeah,” Steve hasn’t stopped nodding, even as his gaze has travelled off you, staring down at his hands. The furrow in his brow hasn’t eased up, still drawn together in the middle, even as he agrees, “Yeah, next time. Uh, totally.”

Then, his head jerks up in your direction. “I’m sorry, by the way, I didn’t mea—“

You wave him off, a nervous chuckle coming out. You sort of want to bury your missed kiss along with all your humiliation but with every other word but Steve keeps kicking off the dirt. “Seriously, it’s fine, Steve. Really.”

His nod isn’t all that convincing to say he believes you.

Regret festers deep in your gut when the evening seems to derail from that point on. Try as you might, you can tell Steve is stuck in his own head; no doubt hounding himself for the strange rebuff he’d given you.

It would be endearing, that he’s so twisted up inside over it, if it didn’t seep awkwardness into the remainder of your date. You wish you hadn’t tried to kiss him.

The car ride to drop you home is absent of the sweet conversation you’d had when he’d picked you up. Words lull, just an oddly tense air between you two. You’re not sure how to fix this.

When Steve pulls up to the curb, the engine idling with a low rumble, you don’t open the door, not yet. Instead, you turn to Steve.

He’s already waiting, already looking over at you, a hint of worry in his expression — though, it’s gone in a flash.

Steve peels his white-knuckled grip off the steering wheel, pressing his hands into his thighs nervously. He gives a strange sort of chuckle and exhales.

“Right,” He starts, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I know that— well, obviously, that wasn’t how I’d hoped that would go at the end and—”

He pauses, eyes scrunching shut with a groan as he tries to collect his words. The next sentence looks like it takes effort to grind out. “I would understand, is all, if you decided you didn’t want to go out again—”

“I do.” 

“—because that was, well- wait, what?”

Steve forces his eyes open and doesn’t even try to hide his astonishment. Your heart throbs achingly at his obvious surprise.

“I do want to go out again.” You nod along with your words. Being so sincere makes you feel a bit naked, forcing your vulnerability out into the open so that you don’t let him spiral. But you’d rather deal with that discomfort that let Steve get the wrong idea.

“Yeah?” Steve breathes. He seems to remember himself, picking his hands off his lap and draping them over the steering wheel. They tap at it lightly. Still nervous. “I’ll— I’ll call you?”

You nod again. For a brief moment, you think of how dates are supposed to end with kisses, or so you’re told. Your eyes dip down to his lips.

You want to. Even just pressing a peck to his cheek might satisfy your churning, growing urge to kiss him — but you certainly don’t have enough courage scraped together after his accidental rebuff.

A little part of you whispers meanly that it may not have been so accidental.

“After 9pm, remember?” You hear yourself say with a smile. Opening the door, you step out onto the sidewalk and close it gently behind you.

Then you deliver Steve one more smile, one more look back, because that’s the bravest you can be at the moment.

He doesn’t call the next night.

Or the night after.

You’re certainly not expecting another letter from Steve, especially considering how your phone has sat idle and quiet in its cradle since your date on Tuesday. Ringing, but not for you.

But come Friday morning— there is it.

Another letter, scribbled in handwriting you’re coming to recognise. Your heart stammers through the next couple beats as you realise what it is, who has sent it.

This time, you nearly consider not reading it. For him and for you, you consider letting it get lost in the piles of paper, never seen, never read. But burning curiosity wins, coddled by your bruised ego.

This letter is messier and more hurried than its predecessors, letters looping together all slanted.

And…oh.

A small worry in you settles. Changes and transforms into something warmer as you realise he hasn’t called you because he’s waiting for advice first. Waiting, unknowingly, for you to answer him.

You genuinely think the space where your heart is supposed to be is empty — that the organ has melted down like gooey candle wax, dripping down your ribcage in burning hot affection. Your chest aches in the best way.

You’d never understood films where girls lie on their beds and kick their feet up, doodling hearts on paper. The urge is suddenly quite overwhelming. Christ. Steve really likes you.

He hadn’t called you back because— because part of him thinks you wouldn’t want him too. That one missed kiss would be the dealbreaker, even after those lovely dates.

You want to scoff, to laugh, to track down Steve and grip him by the shoulders and say, ‘I think you’re stuck with me if you’ll have me!’

You settle for pulling out a fresh sheet to draft your response.

It’s a bit of a gamble, considering the part about the stars is complete codswallop. The newspaper doesn’t even technically have an astrologist; the horoscopes are auto-generated every week. You’re praying Steve won’t know that.

The paper goes to print on Friday evening, for the early weekend morning the day after. Saturday morning, there’s a call of your name downstairs and you’re halfway down the stairs when you pause at the sight of your mom on the phone.

“Someone on the phone for you,” She comments, the smallest raise of her eyebrows. You ignore the way that makes you hot inside, rushing down the end of the stairs to rescue who you hope is Steve on the other end of the phone. Your mom skirts away but not without one more meaningful glance back at you.

You turn and face the other way, giving away nothing. You’re sure you sound a bit breathless as you speak into the receiver, “Hello?”

A crackle on the other end.

“Hi.” A voice says nervously. There’s a moment’s pause. “It’s Steve.”

You fight off a combination of responses; a girlish squeal and a hefty sigh of relief. He called. The cord of the phone loops around your fingers automatically.

“Hey,” You say, aiming for casual. You’re not sure if it comes out that way.

A small part of you doesn’t mind if he hears your poorly tamped down excitement — an even smaller part wants him to. There’s something different about this call, knowing what you know.

“I’m real sorry it took so long to call,” Steve says, voice genuine. He clearly feels the need to explain his silence. You suppose if you hadn’t received his letter, you might still be feeling a bit confused and bummed out. “I— I’ll tell you all about why tomorrow? If you’re free?”

It’s sickeningly sweet that he still sounds so nervous.

“Of course,” you say. “It’s—” It crosses your mind to tell him, here and now, to explain that you knew exactly why he took so long to call you. You fumble and something else comes out instead. “I’m- I’m glad you called, Steve.”

“Me too.”

Your cheeks ache a bit with the force of your grin. The cord of the phone loops over your finger again and again as you sink against the wall, clutching the phone tighter and pull yourself together,

“So, what’s the plan?”

“You, me, maybe head over to Indianapolis and try out the new golfing game they just set up over there? That sound… good to you?”

It sounds very good to you. 

“I can’t say I’ve ever played golf.” You admit.

A little worry piques up about making a fool of yourself, then settles quickly. Steve wouldn’t make fun of you. If you sucked, you’re actually sure he’d find some way to spin it all romantic style.

“I’ll teach you.”

“You’ve played?”

“Never,” You can hear Steve’s smile through the phone. “But can’t be that hard right?”

—

There’s a lot of thought that goes into what to wear, evident in the holes you must be wearing in your carpet from pacing across it. Restless energy drives you, some labyrinth of nerves and anticipation knotted in your gut. 

Spread out before you on the bed lies everything you own in the colour yellow.

If she wears yellow, it’s your sign. Make your move.

Your own words— well, Gabby’s words, delivered to Steve via the Hawkins Post on how to know if he’s earned your heart like you know he so desperately wants to. You want to show him he has — in a way that seems like a goddamn sign from the universe.

The skirt is one of your nicer ones.

Along the waistline, embroidered flowers are stitched into the fabric and it swishes in just the way you love. Best of all is the dreamy buttery colour, like the colour that bleeds through at the beginning of a sunset, when the sky starts to change at dusk. It’s yellow as yellow comes — for good reason. 

You want him to see you and know.

For the sign to be so unanimously yes that he doesn’t have any space for the same doubts that tornadoed up in his head after your last date.

The type of giddiness that can only be spurred on by crushes and love alike spins up inside you, like sugar catching in a wheel and turning to cotton candy. You’re so sweet on him it’s making you feel gaga. 

You’re also terrified — because you have to tell him now. Inklings of anxiety settle in your chest, leaving little notches in your ribs that twinge a little bit. You really don’t want Steve to leave your life, not now that he’s just come into it.

A little part of you regrets not telling him on the first date, when all your revelations rolled into one big Oh My God! outside of the Hawk cinema.

You hadn’t told him though, so you need to tell him now. And then again, if you’re asking Steve to trust in the stars then… maybe, so should you. 

The afternoon sun lights through the glass of your front door and coats the entrance hall in gold. Steve, as always, is on time. You’re barely down the stairs, the clock chiming at 1 o’clock, when a familiar toot! sounds from out front. Your fingers stress with the fabric of your skirt, smoothing it down for the nth time. 

Here goes… everything. 

You open the door to step you and you startle in surprise to find there’s already someone on the doorstep. 

The door snicks shut behind you, bumping your forward an inch, and the warmth of the afternoon sweeps across your skin.

Steve’s staring downwards, one hand adjusting his ringer t-shirt nervously and the other holding together a fresh bouquet of flowers- sunflowers.

He got you sunflowers. 

Yellow, yellow, yellow. There seems to be a theme to your love. 

His head shoots up at the sound of your entrance, his eyes snagging on your sunny-coloured skirt which shifts in the wind. You swear you can hear his breath hitch as he takes in the colour, a smile blooming wide across his face.

Remembering his manners, Steve clears his throat and tears his eyes off your skirt but it’s too late — the buttery yellow has done its job and he knows. 

His grin has turned brazen and wild. Confidence rolls his shoulder back a bit and his chest puffs out. He looks so handsome it makes you hopelessly nervous. 

“These are…” Steve holds the flowers out but his words trail off. His eyes back on the ground as he thinks, hard, teeth worrying at his bottom lip.

In a second, he seems to come to a decision because he’s stepping closer to you, so close that if you both leaned in a couple more inches, your nose would brush his chin. He holds the sunflowers purposefully out the way, mindful of crushing them. 

He smells very nice, you realise. The scent of his cologne inspires a flustering reaction; you’re sure there must be cartoon hearts swimming above your head. You reign in your thoughts before they get away from you.

“Look, I messed up our last kiss and honestly, until recently I didn’t even know that was something I was even capable of doing.” Steve huffs a laugh, his throat bobbing as he swallows nervously.

His eyes screw shut for just a moment, gathering his thoughts, or perhaps his courage. Maybe both. 

“But, I am. I’m- I feel like a fool around you and I miss these little cues because I’m trying to think of the right thing to say or— or because I can’t stop looking at you. And it’s because I like you. I really like you.” 

He inhales a shuddering breath. The sun beams make his eyes two shades lighter. 

“I’ve been confused and lost in love once before and it means that some days I’m not even sure what that feeling even is, what I’m looking for, but… I think it may feel a lot like you.” 

There is it, presented forward to you. His heart on his sleeve, bleeding for you. 

His affections are so transparent it makes you ache for him more. Sunlight seems to fill your chest, burning in its ardor and the tenderness soon follows.

You feel the fondness you have for him, just a seedling of new love, taking root deep in your heart. A part of you suspects it may have snuck in there far earlier, nestling in sometime between your longing glancing and shared smiles. 

“And now, I really, really want to kiss you.” Steve says, the words so earnest they scrape on the way up his throat.

His brown eyes are searching your face as his free hand rises, hesitating for only a moment before it finds a home curled along your jaw. “And get a chance to get it right this time.” 

“Steve,” you whisper. His name makes your mouth tender like no other word can. “Kiss me.” 

His fingers slide along your jaw and touch the edges of your hair as he inches nearer and your heart lurches up your throat in anticipation. His lips are quivering ever so slightly, you notice. 

And then his lips are on yours. 

He kisses your mouth with all the adoration of a familiar long-time lover, deep and longing. Pushing up on your toes, your hands grasp at his shirt, the fabric twisting between your fingers as you pull him closer. It’s… lovely.

Your heart aches and soars, beating as one with him as his kiss sets a fire aflame within you. You are officially and utterly enraptured by Steve Harrington and all he is, but especially his kisses. You already miss the last of his lips when Steve breaks the kiss. 

He doesn’t move back, staying close, and the tip of his nose bumps against yours. He’s sporting a grin that rivals the day in sunshine. 

“You wore yellow,” He says, voice doused in awe. 

Oh. That’s right. His words are a swift kick to reality. You pull back just a bit, hands flattening out on his chest, just so you can see his face properly because you know if you’re too close, you might fall victim to his brown eyes. 

“About that…” 

Steve blinks and takes a second to realise that he must have spoken aloud. He chuckles, a hint of embarrassment in the noise, and rushes to explain. “That was— that must’ve sounded-” 

“I’m Gabby.” You interrupt before he can get carried away. 

Steve frowns, confusion creasing between his brows. “What? I thought your name was—” 

“No!” You jump in again, biting down your smile at his adorable misunderstanding. “I-I mean I write as Gabby. From the Hawkins Post.” 

Steve blinks at you again. His face blanches and then, it’s like watching fruit ripen, the apples of his cheek getting pinker and pinker with every passing second.

He splutters, a myriad of emotions overtaking his features; surprise, bewilderment, embarrassment. He jumps from one to the other in an instant.

“You- you’re— and you?”

There’s not really a proper sentence coming from Steve, just bucket loads of endearing and unneeded embarrassment radiating off him, so warm you can nearly feel it. Steve sputters for another second before he finally manages to spit out a sentence. 

“The whole time?” 

You have the decency to look sheepish when you nod. Steve steps back for a moment and you try to ignore the spike of fear it invokes in you — he buries his face in his hands, squishing the flowers against his hair, and releases a pitiful sounding groan into his palms. After a moment, he drags his hands down his face and peeks up at you. 

“The whole time?” Steve asks again, in a meek whisper.

“I’m sorry!” You squeak out, guilt beginning to overflow. Oh god, you’ve deceived him and he hates you—

“No, no, no,” He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, which then cards through his hair. He’s still looking a bit frazzled but his eyes finally focus back on you.

“It’s not— Oh, man, I can’t believe it was you. No wonder the advice worked so well! This is- this is a new kind of embarrassing—” 

Steve groans again, though his smile is starting to return. “I can’t believe you still went out with me once you figured it out. God, I knew that writing in was a bit pathetic, it’s gotta be like a—” He holds his hand out flat, hovering at chest height. “Top ten loser move of all time and you still—.” 

“No, it’s not!” You insist, stepping forward to close the gap between you. You shake your head, eager to convince him of how it had seemed from your side; a sweet love letter from someone who cared enough to try to get things right.

“It was sweet and honest. Before I even knew it was you, reading that first letter, I… I wanted it to be you.” You admit, a bit bashfully. 

Steve takes a moment to look at you, eyes dancing down to look at your yellow skirt which swishes as another breeze passes by. Warm afternoon air cocooning around you, you look the picture of devastatingly pretty, dolled up for a date with him. You’ve seen this dorky and little bit pathetic side of him, with his desperate search for advice and missed kisses and yet… you’re still here. 

“You did? You mean that? You don’t think it was… weird?” 

You shake your head, a few strands of hair escaping from behind your ear. Steve thinks about tucking them back for you. He doesn’t feel brave enough yet.

“I mean that. I— it was crazy when I figured it out and I sort of thought it was just wishful thinking but, definitely not weird.” 

You hold your hand up, fingers nearly pinched together with only a few centimetres between them. You squint, smile overtaking your lips before you can stop it. “Was just a little bit funny, though.” 

Steve laughs, head tipping forward to hide his rosy cheeks. He peers back up at you through his lashes, a new twinkle in his eyes. “You’re a little minx, aren’t you?” 

“I didn’t plan it!” You splutter out, defending yourself. “It was- it was just a freaky coincidence.” 

“A freaky coincidence?” Steve’s brows hike up an inch. His smile turns into a smirk and he rocks up on the balls of his feet, then steps back in closer to you. “Mmhm. Totally believe you.” 

“Doesn’t sound like you do.” 

“Weren’t you the one who told me to trust in the stars? You should take your own advice, really.” 

He leans in so close that you think he’s about to kiss you. He doesn’t— just hovers an inch from your lips. 

“I’ve found it works astoundingly well.” He says, voice husky with how low it is.

You shiver a bit, delight zinging up your spine and try your best to not to smile too much because, well — as you find, it’s awfully hard to kiss someone properly when you’re cheesing out, grinning too wide. 

Good thing, neither you or Steve seem to mind very much.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 39: Life

Summary: Something begins to throb in your chest as you lay there. Something thrums deep within you, something you haven’t felt in weeks.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7,343 words

Warnings: Angst, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, PTSD, nightmares, POV changes, depression and anxiety, illness, language, slightly graphic imagery, very slight violence, rumination, lots of feels, and yes finally some comfort

A/N: Yes, it has finally arrived. The time has come. We are now in the comfort. This very much is a good place to end things for the next month. If you haven't seen my post then I'll say it here, I will be putting the fic on a brief hiatus for the month of October. I have Kyletober planned and trying to do CRCB at the same time will be too much. So this will be the last chapter for a couple weeks while I focus on other things and just give my brain a little break from CRCB. It's been eight months of just pumping out long chapters every week, or almost every week, so I need a little break to focus on other things. I'll still be writing and posting things here (and Ao3 of course) but there won't be another CRCB chapter posted until November.

But anyway, I hope you enjoy this one and the comfort starting and I'm super excited for what's coming next month (can't believe it's almost October)

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“I need you to be brave.” Christine says, staring up at him. 

His heart thumps in his chest. How bad is it that not only did she summon him down here, but she’s asking him to be brave. He knows you’re sick, that you’ve fallen ill after your moment of anger earlier. She had informed them over dinner as she made some broth that you came down with a fever. 

They had all been worried, sharing glances at the news. John looked like a dog that had been scolded. It was his fault, after all. 

If anything happens to you, it is his fault. 

Johnny swallows the lump in his throat, nodding slowly as he stares down at Christine. “I can be brave.” 

Christine stares up at him for a long moment before nodding. She pushes the door open, leading him inside your room. The scent in the air is thick, tainted by the bitter scent of anxiety still lingering in the air, and the sour scent of illness. He misses the fresh scent of strawberries, he has missed it over the last few weeks. Your scent had taken on a bitter edge ever since the cameras were revealed to them. It’s only gotten stronger recently after the events that transpired. 

All of their scents have been off lately. 

It’s dark in the room aside from the bedside lamp. It casts a soft glow around the room, elongating the shadows in the corners. They loom threateningly, and his fingers twitch to turn on the overhead light. 

You don’t like the overhead light. It’s too bright. 

You always prefer softer light. Is it an omega thing, or is it just a you thing? He’s not quite sure. 

How little they really understand you. 

The lamp illuminates a pile of blankets on the bed, stacked one on top of each other to create a lump of soft fabric. You’re underneath that pile, he knows it. You’ve always liked blankets, always carried one with you in the barracks, eternally cold in the harsh world they existed in on base. This many blankets though? It was excessive even for you. 

He approaches the bed slowly, scared at what he might find. Images of you laying in a puddle of blood, cold and stiff fills his mind. Images of a skeletal figure reduced to nothing but skin stretched over bones has his heart racing. What will he find on the other side of that pile obscuring you from his vision? 

He swallows down his fear, reminding himself that he’s a soldier. He’s seen dead bodies before, he’s killed before. So why is he so scared now? 

This isn’t war. It’s you. 

He steps up to the side of the bed, looking down on you. You’re shivering, trembling under the blankets. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin dewy and clammy in your fever. You look more alive than the skeletal figure he had pictured in his mind, but you don’t look well. 

You look near death. 

“I’m worried about her.” Christine says, closing the door behind her. “She needs someone from her pack close. You’re making the most effort right now, and if anyone might get through to her, it’s you. She needs...someone.” Christine sighs. “Someone who can offer what I can’t.”  

“She needs a member of her pack.” Johnny says, easily putting together what Christine was saying. 

He knows what she’s asking. He’s scared. He’s not sure how you’ll react. The last people you want to see right now is your pack, including him. How will you react to having him so close? 

“Exactly.” Christine says, stepping up right next to him.

Her fingers wrap around his wrist, and he lets her guide his hand to your cheek. It’s hot and clammy against his palm, a fire blazing under your skin. You let out a shuddering breath, the air fanning weakly against his wrist. Your head turns just slightly, pressing into his hand. It’s a good sign, despite the delirium you have to be stuck in. What are you imagining is happening right now? What is your brain telling you? 

“Touch her, talk to her.” Christine says, releasing his wrist. He keeps his hand there, pressed against your cheek. “We need to try and get her back before this gets worse.” 

Before they lose you. 

She won’t say it out loud. 

She doesn’t need to. 

Johnny nods, turning his head to look at Christine over his shoulder. She looks exhausted, and not just because of the late hour. She’s done so much over the past few weeks watching you and caring for you. Maybe it is time one of them tries to step up and help her. You can’t avoid them forever, no matter how much you might feel like trying. 

He has to try. For you. 

“I know what tae do.” He says, his eyes flickering to the books stacked on your dresser, the ones Simon and John picked up. 

Christine squeezes his arm. “I’m just across the living room if you need me.” 

“I’ll try not to.” He says. 

She stares up at him for a long moment before nodding. She understands. He doesn’t have to say much else. She leaves the door cracked and he doesn’t mind, moving away from you to look through the books on the dresser. A handful of them are new, or at least ones he’s never seen you read before. A couple are ones he knows are in your collection at the barracks. He picks one of those, some fantasy novel he’s seen you read more than once. 

He looks between the bed and the chairs. He could pull one over and sit by your side. 

No, Christine said it was better to touch you. 

Instead he climbs onto the bed, sitting close enough he can feel the heat from your body. He cracks open the book, flipping through to the first page. He clears his throat, staring down at you for a moment before he begins to read. 

Rain batters the roof, coming down hard outside. The wind is blowing, whooshing past the house, rattling the shutters. The storm blew in from the sea, dumping rain by dinner and then the wind picked up by the time they were all getting ready to settle in for the night. 

It feels fitting, a storm blowing in at a time when a storm is brewing within their pack.

The storm he blew into their pack. 

He lays there in bed, listening to it rage outside. It’s quiet in the house, Simon and Johnny already settled in, and so are you downstairs. Kyle is beside him, but not asleep. He’s laying awake again as they have done since their arrival. He can feel the heat of Kyle’s body against his arm as he lays on his back, Kyle on his side facing away from him. 

“You just had to do it, didn’t you?” Kyle asks quietly, breaking the silence. “Can’t even go a week without trying to apologize knowing full well she won’t forgive you.” 

John stays silent, having expected some kind of reprimanding for his actions. He really was selfish for what he did. Kyle is right. You won’t forgive him, no matter how many times or ways he tries to say sorry. 

“You’re just making it worse.” Kyle huffs out. “You’re the last person that should try apologizing right now.”

“You’re right.” He finally says. “It was selfish of me to do that. I just wanted her to know-” 

“She knows.” Kyle snaps, cutting him off. “She’s not stupid and oblivious. She knows we’re all feeling guilty, she knows how sorry we all are. She won’t let us apologize until she’s ready. Shows just how little you actually understand her, trying to do that.” Kyle pushes himself up to sit. “She doesn’t want words. She’s had words spewed at her, her whole life telling her what to do, how to feel, how to act. She want’s actions. She wants us to prove to her that we do care, that we are sorry, that we’re making an effort to make things up to her. She wants us to prove that we’re putting her first by putting her first.” 

John knows he’s right. Words won’t solve a situation like this. None of them know where to start, though. How do you try and make things up to someone when you’re not even sure that person wants you to try? 

“She’s sick now, because of what you did.” Kyle continues. “If anything happens to her...” He trails off, shaking his head. 

“I’ll let you take the first shot.” John says. “I know. I’ve been a miserable excuse of an alpha. It’s easy when you have the confines of the military to hold everything in place. When those expectations dictate your life and how to run a pack. It’s easy, when you can exist as a pack with those set routines and structures. The facade that makes everything seem like it's working.” He shakes his head. “We never would have worked outside of those confines.” 

Kyle’s head turns slightly towards him, but his gaze is still on the far wall. “No, we wouldn’t have. None of us would have chosen this in the first place.” 

“Probably not.” John agrees. “Then we got an omega added, an outsider that showed us just how weak we really were.” 

“We were crumbling long before that.” Kyle says. “We weren’t ready for an omega, we shouldn’t have ever had an omega.” 

“I should never have been head alpha.” John says. “Being an alpha is different from being a captain. It shouldn’t have been me.” 

Kyle snorts. “He would have never agreed.” 

“That delay might have saved us.” 

“Or it would have made things worse.” Kyle says. “Shepherd wanted us to bond with her right away so his control over us would strengthen if he had to use that power. If those bonds weren’t put into place when they were, they might have tried to force it.” 

“That would have only destabilized things further.” John says. Kyle isn’t wrong. Who knows what lengths they would have gone to, to ensure what they wanted would happen. “They were watching us from the start. They knew exactly how to play all of us.” 

“Simon was right all along in his suspicions.” Kyle says, laying back down on the bed. Their shoulders are touching. It feels nice, having him close again. They’ve been close for the last few days, forced together by their sleeping arrangements, but it feels different now. 

“He’ll be a better alpha than I ever could be.” John says quietly, almost speaking to himself. 

“I think she will come to forgive you eventually.” Kyle says, turning his head to look at John. “You just have to give her time. A lot of time. You have to figure out how to prove yourself worthy of that forgiveness.” 

“I want to take her to the beach.” John says. “Once she’s recovered.” 

“If she recovers.” Kyle had pieced together the worry in Christine’s voice combined with her words. They all had. 

“She will.” John says. “She’s a tough little thing. She’s not going to give up just like that.” 

“I hope you’re right.” Kyle says. 

“I may not have the best track record with being right currently, but I’m confident in her and her strength.” John turns his head to look at Kyle in the darkness. The storm is calming outside, the wind dying down and the rain lightening. “She’s stronger than all of us combined.” 

The corners of Kyle’s lips twitch. “You are right about that.” 

It smells good. 

There’s a rich scent in the air as you begin to wake. It smells like Christmas, like spices and citrus. Warm gingerbread and cider. Freshly squeezed orange juice on Christmas morning just like every year. It had been your favorite, though you never understood the lengths your mother went to, the early morning and the hours spent in the kitchen on Christmas slaving away to make everything perfect. Everyone got something they wanted, something they loved. You never appreciated that effort until now. 

Oranges. Spices. Warmth. 

You know that scent. 

It’s hot in the room, sweat soaking your skin as you lay on your right side. Heat surrounds you like a cocoon, just like the scent. Warm and soft and too much. You try to wiggle out from under the blankets but you can’t move, so instead you shuffle them off. Some of them hit the floor with soft plops, the others just barely hanging on the side of the bed, trapped under your body. You’re still stuck, still hot as you lay there, a comforting weight around you. The scent floods your nose, fills your body with a pleasant feeling as you lay there, breathing through your nose. Oranges, spices, warmth. 

Someone is baking a pie.

It smells good. You want to bury yourself in it, press yourself into that scent until it’s the only thing you can smell. It brings you a comfort you didn’t realize you were missing. Something fills your chest, a weight beginning to press down inside of you.

Your hair sticks to your face as you lay there, tempted to get up and see who is baking and why. There’s weight pressing down on you from the outside as well. You can’t move. You’re stuck. 

The weight around you moves. 

No, it’s not pie. 

It’s Johnny. 

That’s why you know the scent. That’s why it feels so familiar, so comforting. It’s Johnny. Johnny is pressed up against your back, his arm tossed over your waist. That’s why it’s so hot, his body putting off warmth like a heater. 

You should be angry at the breach of your clearly placed barriers. You should be upset that he would come in here and just climb in bed like this. You should be pissed that one of them would try something like this after your outburst yesterday. 

You shouldn’t be crying. 

Not out of relief. 

Oh how you missed this. 

Something begins to throb in your chest as you lay there, crying quietly in Johnny’s arms. Something begins to thrum deep within you, something you haven’t felt in weeks. Life? Hope? Happiness? 

You should be upset. 

You can’t be. 

Johnny grunts quietly behind you, his arm leaving your waist as he stretches. He’s awake now, or maybe he hadn’t been at all and had been waiting for some sign of life, some movement from you, something to try and give him a hint at what you must be feeling. He doesn’t say anything, laying still as you sniffle in the silence. No one else is up yet, despite the blue light of dawn coming in through the gap in the curtain. 

“Johnny?” You whisper, even the quiet sound hurting your sore throat. You’re thirsty, desperately so, but that’s a problem for later. 

“It’s me, kitten.” He says hesitantly, the pet name making a sob tear from your throat. 

“Johnny,” You cry, the tears falling in a cascade. You can’t stop them. You’ve lost complete control as you lay there sobbing. “Hold me.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, his arms wrapping around you and tugging you close against his chest. He locks you in his embrace, holding you tightly against his chest as you cry. It feels good. Life and energy flows through you again for the first time in weeks. That empty space in your chest begins to fill slowly, warmth blossoming in your body despite the sweat soaking you both. Johnny offers no complaints as he presses his face into your hair. 

How you missed this. 

How you need this. 

You seem more relaxed at dinner. Despite your angry outburst the day before, and your sudden illness, you look significantly less miserable than you did your first attempt at joining them for dinner. The yelling did a number on your throat, but even now it’s nothing compared to that first day. You’re having soup again, and this time there’s a side of mash and peas next to the bowl. 

You even walked to the table without the crutch. 

Simon sits beside you again, all of them taking their respective seats at the table. They’ve assigned themselves these seats, even when you don’t join them for a meal. You’re at the head of the table as you were the first time, Simon and Chrstine on either side of you. Kyle and Johnny are seated next to them, and John is across the table from you. You’ve been avoiding looking at him. You haven’t even so much as glanced up at him. 

Simon is watching you carefully out of the corner of his eye, trying not to make it obvious. If you’ve noticed, you haven’t shown any disapproval. He’s ready in case he has to act fast again, but you are far more steady than you were that first time. There’s no tremble to your hand as you bring the spoon up to your mouth. 

The others look happier than before too. Johnny has stopped crying. Not even a sniffle from him ever since this morning when he emerged from your room. None of them had said anything about it, though they have an inkling of what had happened, judging by Christine’s lack of reaction to it. Kyle looks happier too, sitting straighter like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. It probably has, with the lightening of the mood. Whatever happened with Johnny this morning, it’s made a huge change already.  

John has never been much of a religious man, but god bless Johnny for whatever magic he worked this morning. 

You don’t even look feverish as you sit there, spooning soup into your mouth. A lingering low-grade fever, Christine had informed them earlier that afternoon, but significantly less concerning than things had been yesterday.  

He’s glad to hear it. He’s always glad to hear Christine’s updates on how you’re doing, how well you’re healing, at least physically. The body heals easily. Mentally...there’s still a long way to go. Healing physically will help mentally, but with all the trauma, years and years of trauma, it’s going to take a long time to heal from that. 

The clink of your spoon in your bowl draws him from his thoughts and he glances up at you. 

“Getting full?” Christine asks as you take a sip of your water, wincing slightly as you swallow it. 

“Can I have some tea?” You ask. 

“Sure,” Christine says, going to push her chair back, but John is already standing.

“I’ll make some.” He says, not offering any room for argument as he turns his back on the table to head for the kettle. 

You’ve been drinking more tea lately, likely to soothe your throat. He never thought he’d see the day, given your determination to stand with Johnny on the side of coffee. It’s a bit late for coffee, but he does know it wouldn’t keep you awake in the slightest. You love your sleep, as most omegas do, and nothing will get in the way of it. Not even some late evening caffeine. 

He sets mugs out on a tray, deciding to make tea for everyone. At least that way it’ll make it seem less targeted at you. He’s not doing it to try and impress you or win your affections back. He just wants to help take the load off of Christine’s shoulders. She’s done so much for you, for all of them, already. 

He steeps the tea before bringing the mugs to the table along with some milk and sugar. He knows at least Simon and Kyle will drink some, and he will as well. He brings the kettle over, filling the mugs with tea. All of them sit there watching him, waiting tensely for what will happen next. Will you take the mug of tea he offers? Or will you refuse. Even if you threw it in his face, it wouldn’t make him mad. It would be horribly painful, yes, but he would deserve it. 

Perhaps him doing this was a mistake. 

He stares at the sugar and milk as he grabs one of the mugs. Do you like sugar or milk in your tea? He’s not sure. He doesn’t even know how you take your tea. He knows you like creamer in your coffee. But how do you take your tea? 

What a sad excuse of a human being he is. 

You don’t look at him as he sets the mug next to your water glass. You’re still eating your soup, your hand trembling just slightly now. Your scent is tainted still, a whiff of it filling his nose. Displeasure, a hint of burning anger. 

This was a mistake. 

He sets the milk and sugar next to you first, letting you finish making your tea. He won’t push that boundary and risk making it wrong. It would only add fuel to the fire, make it more obvious that he knows and cares so little for you. He doesn’t even know how you take your tea. 

He takes his seat again as the others help themselves to the tea, even Johnny taking a mug. Whether he’s doing it because he wants to make the moment feel less awkward, or because he genuinely wants some, John will never know. 

He made a mistake in doing that. 

Still, despite the awkwardness, it felt good to do that. 

Maybe that’s how they get closer to you. 

The little things, things that take some of the pressure off Christine. She has to be getting tired, going nonstop all day. Anything they can do to help, they should. Things seemed to go well with Johnny, so maybe the others can have some success in their attempts to gain your favor once more. 

John will have to stay away for now. Distance is what you need from him. 

That’s alright. He has other things he can do. 

He tries to hide the small grin on his face as you pick up the mug, taking a sip of the tea. 

They’re fighting. 

You stand at the back door watching them throw punches. They’re solid punches, nothing held back, no pulling them. They’re all breathing heavily, two of them watching the other two fight. 

Simon’s fist meets Kyle’s shoulder, Kyle’s fist going for Simon’s head but he’s too fast, ducking before he drives his shoulder into Kyle’s stomach. Kyle hits the grass, disappearing from your view. 

John steps forward, pulling Simon back and speaking to him, but you can’t hear from this distance. 

“Still out there?” Dr. Keller asks, stepping up beside you. 

“Yep.” You say, watching as Johnny takes Kyle’s place against Simon. 

“John did say it would be good for them.” Dr. Keller says, wincing as Johnny’s fist hits Simon’s ribs. 

“They’re gonna start a real fight.” You say, watching as Simon starts to get more aggressive. You can tell because you’ve been in that position before. You’ve seen when that switch starts to flip, when the alpha starts to take over. He was never this aggressive with you, but perhaps even his alpha could be rational given your obvious size and strength difference. 

And the fact you’re an omega. 

“Well, that’s their problem.” Dr. Keller says. “As long as they keep it out there.” 

“They might make you patch them up afterwards.” You say. 

She lets out a snort. “There’s ice packs in the freezer and a first aid kit in the bathroom.” 

You try to hide your smile as you watch John get in between Johnny and Simon, speaking to Simon again. Maybe it will be good for them to get some of that pent up energy out. They’re all used to being so active and always having something to do. Being stuck inside has to be driving them stir-crazy. Simon has been going on runs in the morning, and you know John has been going on walks every so often. 

You’re starting to feel a bit stir-crazy yourself. It’s taking you back to the days shut up in the barracks, unable to go anywhere or do anything, having to entertain yourself for hours while they were gone. At least there you had space and room to move around, even when you were being trailed, one of them constantly following you around. They might not be hovering quite as obviously here, but it still feels suffocating, like you can’t truly have a moment to yourself. 

“I want to go for a walk.” You say, shifting on your feet. The likelihood of you going very far is slim, at least right now. 

How far you’ve fallen from your running days. 

“I suppose you could go for a little walk.” Dr. Keller gives you a sideways glance. “Might be good to help get your strength back. I doubt they’d let us go without one of them, though.” 

“Probably not.” You agree, knowing they won’t even let you sit out on the porch without one of them watching. If you left the house without even telling one of them, all hell would break loose and you’d be condemned to your room once more. 

The thought makes you wince. 

You almost wish you could go out there and throw some punches at one of them. That might make you feel a bit better. Hell, line them all up and you’ll take turns beating the crap out of all of them. Maybe that might heal some of the anger and pain still stuck inside of you. 

That’s an idea for a different day, though. 

It’s oddly warm out today, or at least that’s what Ashley said. Soon the weather will turn, though, and the cold rain will come. Lots of rain. 

Your eyes flick between Ashley and Dr. Keller. The three of you are seated in a circle around a table outside, steaming mugs of tea in front of you. Neither of them are staring at you, instead focused on each other as Ashley speaks. 

Dr. Keller has a crush. 

It’s not hard to tell. Her eyes are focused on Ashley, a smile tugging at her lips. Her gaze only flicks to you when you shift and move in your seat before she’s staring at Ashley again. You can’t blame her. You can hardly bring yourself to look away from Ashely too. 

It makes you almost miss Kyle. 

They have the same soft brown eyes and the same bright smile. They’re both perfect, like they were chiseled out of marble and brought to life. They even laugh the same, a genuine chuckle coming right from the chest. 

It makes you want to laugh, even if you have no clue what was being said. 

How has Kyle been handling this? You’ve hardly paid him any mind. His connection to John puts him too close to the source of your anger and rage and pain. Johnny cries, Simon is a brick wall, John reeks of guilt and misery. Kyle...you don’t know. He’s been a blank spot, a hazy figure in the distance. 

It almost makes you feel bad. You’ve completely cut him off, isolated him. Has he cried? Has he been sulking? How miserable does he feel about everything? Does he feel guilty or miserable at all? He has to. They all do. 

Good. You think. They deserve it. 

“You do get stuck in your head, huh?” 

Your gaze snaps up, looking between Dr. Keller and Ashley. They’re both staring at you quietly, a small smile on Ashley’s face. You did get lost in your thoughts again, stuck in your ruminations as you usually do. Lately it hasn’t been a problem, as you’re alone or with Dr. Keller often. You’re supposed to be thinking and processing. It just happens at the worst times. 

Simon would hate it still. 

“Something specific on your mind?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You probably shouldn’t say anything. How would you explain how your mind went from Dr. Keller crushing on Ashley to hoping the guys feel guilty? You’re not even sure you should reveal that you know about Dr. Keller’s crush, especially if she hasn’t said anything yet. You don’t think she has. They’re not...close in the way a couple would be, a distance still between them. Does Ashley feel the same way? It’s hard to tell since you don’t know her quite as well yet. 

Maybe that can be your goal, besides healing. Something to focus on, something to distract from the constant emotions and pain. Get Ashley and Dr. Keller together. 

They’d be perfect for each other. 

“Not really.” You finally say, looking down at the book in your lap. You’re about halfway through it. It’s fine. Nothing to write home about. 

“What do you think of the book?” Ashley asks, sensing your end to that discussion. She doesn’t push. You like that about her. 

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Kinda slow.” 

“They are spending a lot of time on character development.” Dr. Keller says. 

“We should keep a tally of how many times the phrase “his dark eyes” gets mentioned.” Ashley says, making you laugh. 

“It’s good to hear you laugh.” Dr. Keller says, smiling at you. 

“It...feels good to laugh again.” You say. “It’s nice to have something to laugh about.” 

“Well then I’m going to make that my mission.” Ashley says, taking a sip of her tea. “Get you to laugh as much as possible.” 

You don’t think you’ll mind that one bit.

The scream dies in your throat as you jolt awake in bed. The book that had been in your hands when you fell asleep drops to the floor with a quiet thud as you jerk up into a seated position. You’re breathing heavily, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you try and calm your racing heart. It’s beating hard like it might beat right out of your chest. You’re shaking, your hands clutching at the baggy shirt you’re wearing like you’re trying to cling to some hope that it was all a dream, that you’re awake now and this is real life. 

Sweat beads on your forehead as you sit there, shaking in the darkness. You need someone. The shadows are closing in around you, your nightlight unable to keep them completely away. You need someone to fight them back. You need someone to reassure you that it was all just a dream, someone that can wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks and whisper softly to you that it’s all okay. That it’s all over. 

You need Kyle. 

Where is Kyle? How do you get to him without waking the others? You could go upstairs but what if they think you’re an intruder? You don’t even know which room Kyle is in. You wish you had a phone. You wish you could call him. You wish you could just telepathically reach out and tell him you need him and only him. 

You’ll wake them all anyway trying to find him. 

You suck a breath in, your hands still shaking as they cling to your shirt. You have to do it. It’s the only way to get them all down here, to get Kyle down here. 

You take a couple deep breaths before you scream. 

Within seconds the house is alive, footsteps racing across the living room towards your room as others thud from above. 

The overhead light stings your eyes, forcing them closed. It’s too bright, intrusive even with your eyes pinched closed. You can still see it behind your eyelids, harsh and too artificial. Just a price you have to pay to get what you need. 

Dr. Keller’s hands are soft as they peel your hands off your shirt, your fingers trembling with nothing to hold on to. They open and close, seeking out something to grip, something to give you an anchor to reality. You’re still panicking, your breaths shaky as you sit there, trembling in fear. 

“You’re alright,” She tries to soothe you, brushing your sweaty hair back. “It was just a dream.” 

You wish it was. 

“Kyle.” The name comes out as barely a whisper, stuttering out of your trembling lips. 

“What was that, sweetie?” Dr. Keller asks, leaning in closer. 

“Kyle.” You whisper louder now, the name shaky in the tense silence of the room. 

“Kyle,” Dr. Keller repeats, standing up straight. 

Quiet, hesitant footsteps approach the bed. Your eyes are still pinched closed against the harsh overhead light. You can’t bring yourself to be brave enough to open them, to face that harsh light. It might reveal the truth, that it was all just a dream, that this is still just a dream. 

It might not be Kyle approaching the bed at all.

You can’t know. You don’t want to know. You’re afraid to open your eyes. 

There’s a click as the lamp is turned on. You still can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. It’s supposed to be comforting, the soft light, but it could be used against you, giving you a false sense of hope and security. 

You flinch as the overhead light is turned off, still too afraid to open your eyes. Your hands have closed around the blanket pooled at your waist, gripping it so tightly your fingers are aching. It’s real. You’re touching it, you can feel the texture of it in your hands. It’s real. 

It’s real. 

Your breaths are shaky as you breathe in and out, trying to catch a scent. Any scent. Something to tell you that you’re really awake, that it really is Kyle standing next to the bed. 

“I’m here.” A soft voice says, something hovering in the air next to you. 

Kyle. 

You know that voice. You’d know it anywhere. 

You finally crack your eyes open, tears brimming as you turn your head to look up. Kyle is standing there awkwardly next to the bed, his hand raised as if he was reaching out to comfort you, but thought better of it. You’re glad he did. You might have spiraled into another panic if he’d touched you before you knew it was him. 

You stare at his hand for a moment before you peel one of your hands away from the blanket. Your hand is shaky as you lift it, reaching out towards his own trembling fingers. 

His fingers are warm and rough, just as you remember as they close around yours. You’re still shaking, a cold sweat forming on your skin as fear trickles down your spine. 

What if this is a dream? What if this isn’t real?

“I’m here.” He says, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. 

You want to believe him. You really do. 

You pull his hand closer, pressing your cheek against it. His skin is warm against your cheek, and like Johnny, he makes no complaints about your sweat smearing on his skin. You’ve been that close to them before, sweat mixing together, slicking skin. How far things have fallen since then. 

Your tears drip onto his skin as you hold him there, just breathing him in for a moment. He smells like the sea, but with that soft, light scent underneath. You missed that scent, more than you realize you did. 

You let out a quiet sound as you rub your cheek against his hand, almost like you’re trying to embed his scent under your skin. 

He doesn’t say anything as you lean against his hand, tears still streaming down your face. The lamp is pushing some of the darkness away, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. You can still feel the eyes from the dark corners of the room, the shadowy figures just out of view threatening to reach out and tear you away. 

A shudder runs down your spine, your fingers squeezing around Kyle’s in what has to be a painful grip. 

“I’m here.” He says again, pulling you from the dark thoughts plaguing your mind. He’d know if someone was here. He’d know if anything threatening was nearby. 

It’s his job. 

The job. 

The thing that’s kept you so separated from them, kept you at a distance. The thing that put your life in danger, that exposed them all as liars. The thing that’s left you an empty shell.

Maybe having him down here was a mistake. 

But the shadows...

You tug on his hand, pulling him closer to the bed. He sinks down on the edge carefully, still a bit hesitant. You don’t blame him. It’s not like you’ve been the most welcoming of them. For good reason. 

You need him right now. That need for safety and security far outweighs the conflicting emotions battling in your brain right now. 

“Stay.” You say, the word tumbling out from your trembling lips. 

“You’re sure?” He asks, his thumb still stroking your knuckles. You’re not sure if he even knows he’s doing it. 

You nod, tugging him closer as you scoot over in bed. He lets you guide him, laying on top of the covers.

You try not to think about it too much. 

It’s nice having him close. The shadows don’t seem quite as dark, the threats in them silent now that he’s here. He’ll keep you safe. He’ll protect you from the silent threats. That’s why you want him. That’s his role to play in all of this. They all have roles, they all have their places in the pack. They all have a part to play, not just for you but for each other. 

They’ve been struggling. 

They’re struggling because you’re struggling. 

The silence is loud as you lay there listening to the hum of electricity. You’re not quite sure what to say, how to break the silence. What is there to say that you haven’t already conveyed by your silence? What is there to say beyond what you’ve conveyed in your anger? They all heard your outburst, they all know the source of your anger and what they did to cause it. 

What’s left to say when you have nothing tying you together anymore except a claim and a half-broken bond? What is there to say when saying the wrong thing might fray that bond even more than it already has been? 

“I’m sorry.” Kyle says, finally breaking the tense silence. 

Of course he’d start with that. 

You let out a huff, turning on your side to face away from him. “I know you all are. You don’t have to keep saying it.” 

He lets out a sigh. He knows it. He’s not apologizing to you, for you. “Nothing can change what we did and we know that. We just...want you to know that we’ll do whatever it takes to help you and support you. We don’t want to push that boundary too far, but we’re all here if you need us.” 

You let out a hum. You already know that too. That’s why Johnny came so willingly, that’s why he stayed. That’s why they all tiptoe around you and stare at you like you’re a wild animal that may strike at any moment. 

Part of you wishes they wouldn’t. 

Part of you wants to go back to the way things were. Part of you wants to pretend that everything is normal again, that you love them and they love you just as much. You want to go back to that comfortable, seamless flow of one around the other, the way they all moved in sync, aware of each other without even needing to look. You want to insert yourself into that flow again and let them guide you along with them. You want to trust them blindly again and know they’d catch you if you fall. 

They proved they won’t though. They proved you can’t trust them to catch you. You’re on your own again, forced to catch yourself, forced to save yourself. You have to make that rope to catch yourself with. 

Yet, a deeper part of you yearns for that connection. Your omega screams for it, for your alpha, for your pack. You want them back with you, you want the bonds to heal and to be stronger than they were before. You want them to do as they said and prove to you that they’ve changed, that they're putting you first. 

The omega should be first. The omega should be the center. The omega should be the sun they gravitate towards, revolve around.

That’s what the book said. That book that’s sitting on your desk in the barracks. That book you read over and over, convincing yourself that it was true and they were a good pack like that book said. 

They’re not. 

We all make mistakes. 

They’ve never had an omega before. How are they supposed to know how to have an omega in their pack if they’ve never had one before? None of them came from big packs. John is the only one who’s ever even dated an omega before. They’re just as new at this as you are. 

You probably know more than them. 

You spent years learning how to be an omega in a pack. You read the books and wrote the essays and did the research. You read that book. 

Simon read that book too. 

Yet he did nothing. 

“Why did you want me?” Kyle asks softly, pulling you from your ruminations. 

You turn your head to look at him, staring into those soft brown eyes. Brown eyes you’ve missed. Tears trail down your cheeks as you stare at him, wetting the paths of the ones that had slowed to a stop in your rumination. 

Why did you want him and not Johnny? 

Johnny was the one that came for you, that comforted you, that got you through your fever. Johnny was the one you asked to hold you, to give you that support you’ve been so desperately clawing for. 

So why did you ask for Kyle?

You turn onto your back again so you’re laying side by side, your shoulder brushing his. He’s warm, and you just want to nuzzle into him and never let him go again. 

Another tear slides down your face as you stare at him, at that concerned look on his face. “I need you to tell me it’s going to be okay.” 

That concern morphs into understanding as he shifts slightly, reaching out for you. You let him, you let his thumb brush the tear sliding down your cheek away. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at you as you lay there in the warm light of the lamp. The shadows don’t seem so close now, so threatening with him here. The things that lay in the darkness waiting for you to sleep so they can seep into your mind and stir up the horrible memories lying there in wait are at bay for now, fought off just simply by his existence in this room. 

His thumb continues to brush your cheek, your skin tingling along the path it follows. “It’s going to be okay.” He says softly, quietly. 

You’re not sure if he’s convincing you of that or himself, or perhaps both. You don’t know what he’s feeling, what he’s been feeling. You’ve been ignoring him, pushing him away out of fear that if you looked too closely, you’d break down. That bond will never break between the two of you, held tight with steel simply because of that claim your alpha and his alpha has on the both of you. No matter how much you hate John, that bond can’t be broken. It can’t be cut. It can’t go away. It can’t be denied. Not completely. 

A small smile tugs at Kyle’s lips, a reassuring smile. His words are stronger this time, spoken with more conviction and surety, like he’s speaking it into existence, manifesting it for the future when things perhaps can be different. 

When things are better. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He says, cupping your cheek, staring right into your eyes as he speaks. “We’re going to be okay.” 

NEXT ->

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[sungstars]

┊NOW OUT. two boyfriends dress them up like twins. (psh x afab!reader x kjw)

┊synopsis. youre the head basketball cheerleader at your university and just so happen to be hooking up with the captain of the basketball team, yang jungwon. you may also be hooking up with the co-captain and jungwon’s best friend, sunghoon. what’s the worst that could happen?

┊WORD COUNT. 7.6k

┊WARNING. MINORS DNI. 18+. smut.. porn little plot. reader is messy as fuck. jungwon is also messy. isa is mentioned just for some plot building. p in v, squirting, protected sex (yay), unprotected sex (not yay), face fucking, swallowing, fingering (f. rec) , oral (f&m rec.), threesome, cumming inside, sorta some angst. i think that’s everything!

┊authors note. WOWWW after 5 months, i finally finished and posted this! i’m so sorry for such a delay on this, but i wanted to make sure i put my best into it! i will be working on the next installment of this fic soon! it will definitely not take me five months to post! should i do it in chronological order or who would you guys like to read about next? it’s been a long time since i’ve written a smut fic, so hopefully this is up to your standards! likes & reblogs are appreciated! my asks are also open so please send me some! thank you!!!

┊taglist! @strawberrywonz @denleave1088 @sunjaywoning @having-an-internal-crisis-rn @sjakewrld @lovewonkiki @rikisly @forrds

You loved game days. You loved how everyone would buzz with excitement, how you got to dress up, how many eyes would be on you. Everyone knew who they came to watch, and it wasn’t the basketball team.

Even the team knew it, their eyes lingering a moment too long instead of focusing on the court.

Especially when the captain, Jungwon, would noticeably bite his lip and miss the basketball flying at his head. That was a moment for the books, especially because it was his co-captain Sunghoon. You basked in the attention.

You giggled to yourself at the memory as you adjusted your red bow to sit comfortable at the top of your head.

As you were about to apply your lip gloss, your phone buzzed once, then twice, then three times. You were going to yell at your phone in annoyance, but quickly changed your demeanor when you saw who it was.

wonnie 🎀: hey pretty girl

wonnie 🎀: will i be seeing you tonight?

wonnie 🎀: you ditched me after the last game, i think you should make it up to me?

Instead of replying, you left him on seen. He thinks you owe him because you “ditched” him?

Jungwon is many things, but he is not a fool. He knew that you didn’t ditch him, you just weren’t going to wait around while he felt up one of the other cheerleaders.

So if he considers you ignoring his phone calls and texts asking where you are, or “please pick up angel” ditching him, sure.

You weren’t making it up to him though, that’s for damn sure. However, you’re sure it would be fun to fuck with his head.

y/n 🌷: okay :).

y/n 🌷: i’ll see you after the game.

Your message was almost read immediately, but you quickly closed out of it, not wanting to give him any satisfaction of you waiting for a reply.

Instead, you clicked out of his name, muted his messages, and scrolled to the one you really wanted to see tonight.

y/n: are you busy after the game?

Within seconds, a reply came through.

BEST DICK EVER: for you? never.

y/n: perfect <3. meet at my place?

The moment the game was over, you felt relief take over your entire body. It was a rough game, and unfortunately your team lost by a plethora of points.

They looked sad, and as hard as you tried to keep cheering them on, even your spirits were slightly crushed.

So as soon as the final buzzer rang and the players went back to their respective locker rooms, you booked it to the parking lot.

There was only so much time you had to get ready, and you couldn’t waste even a moment. Your teammates noticed your quick exit, but decided not to comment on it, towards you at least.

You would have to send out a group message later to explain yourself later, but for now, your mind was set on getting ready for your company.

The first call came in as you were turning into your apartment building, and you decided to let it ring. Maybe Jungwon would think you fell asleep, but you both knew better than that.

The second call came in as you unlocked your door, and this time you decided to answer.

“What?” You asked in an annoyed tone, “I didn’t answer for a reason.”

“Where are you?” Jungwon replied in an even more annoyed tone, “I don’t see you.”

“Because I’m not there,” You threw your keys onto the table and removed your white tennis shoes before walking towards your bedroom, “I have plans.”

“Yeah, I know,” He bit back, “With me.”

“Oh no,”

“What?”

You tried to stifle your laugh at his reaction, “Oh, so you weren’t too busy feeling up Isa to notice that I left?”

Jungwon groaned into the phone, “Get over that y/n, it’s not like we exclusively fuck.”

“Last time I checked, you were begging to see me after that game, begging me to let you hit because you, in your words, couldn’t wait to feel how tight I am around you, couldn’t wait to make me come undone your fingers because I looked so hot cheering for you,” You spat back, “I don’t remember you telling me you meant to send that to her.”

“She approached me, and plus, I tried to call you later that night,”

“I don’t want her sloppy seconds,” You cut him off, “So let’s try this again next week.”

You hung up the phone and threw it on your bed, anger boiling inside, who the fuck did Jungwon think he was? You are nobody’s second option.

Instead of dwelling on Jungwon, you carefully removed your cheer uniform, hanging it up in the closet and removing the bow from your head.

You could not wait to get the tight ponytail out and let your curls breathe before they get ruined in other ways.

Ping!

Again, your phone went off, and you knew it wasn’t Jungwon, he was still muted from earlier. A small smile plastered on your face, and quickly dropped because you were not ready.

You stood in nothing but the team branded sports bra and your safety shorts, but fuck, it didn’t matter. It’s not like they would be on for too long anyway.

BEST DICK EVER: i’m here angel

Quickly, you went to open the door and practically swung it open.

There stood none other than Park Sunghoon. His dark hair was damp from the shower he must’ve taken at the facility, and there was an unreadable glint in his eyes.

“Well, are you going to invite me in or just stare at my arms?”

You scoffed, “Was not.”

You shifted to the left to let him in, eyes lingering on how defined his chest and arms look in that confining white tee.

“Maybe a little,” You admit as he takes his shoes off and makes his way to your couch, “Or a lot.”

Sunghoon took his place on the couch, looking at you expectantly as you made your way to stand between his legs.

“Missed you,” His hands came up to hold your hips, “You did great tonight.”

“Did great or looked great?”

A laugh escaped his lips and his thumb began stroking your hip bone, “Can’t it be both?”

You closed your eyes, basking in his touch for a moment before he pulled you down to straddle his thighs, “You did great tonight too, Hoon. You always do.”

He stared at your features, taking you in as you looked at, biting your lip ever so slightly.

“So,” He broke the silence, hand traveling to the small of your back, “Are you going to let me eat it?”

You hummed in thought, “Maybe,” Your hands went up to his shoulders, fingers gracefully skimming over his silver chain, “Only if you let me wear this.”

He cocked his eyebrow, intrigued nonetheless, “You wear all of your sneaky links chains?”

“Maybe,” You shrugged, “But that doesn’t matter, I wanna wear yours.”

“What my pretty girl wants, Sunghoon removed his hands from your thighs to unclasp his necklace, “She gets.”

Sunghoon brought it around your neck, watching it lay between your tits, “And damn do you look good in Tiffany.”

Your face flushed, at a loss for words as Sunghoon moved you to lay back on the couch and he was now sitting between your legs, “You look so pretty wearing my chain, I bet you look even better wearing just that .”

His hands moved up to your sports bra, fingers dancing over your nipples before sliding them under the hem.

The contract made you gasp, his lithe fingers were cold against your nipples. Sunghoon pushed your bra up until your tits were on full display, bringing one of your nipples to your mouth.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, small moans leaving your mouth at the contact.

Sunghoon began to kiss down your stomach, hands still rolling your nipples around in his nimble fingers. Once he reached your safety shorts, he looked up at you with a lustful look.

He took the thin fabric between his teeth, pulling it down slowly, exposing your glistening cunt to his hungry eyes. His fingers hooking underneath the fabric to pull them down your legs.

Sunghoon stared at you, his hand caressing your right thigh as he lifted your left thigh to rest on his shoulder.

“I fucking love this cunt,” His sweet tone dripped like honey, “You get so wet for me so easily baby, I’ve never seen such a more perfect cunt.”

You let out a sigh, unsure what to say, but you didn’t have to say anything. Sunghoon used two fingers to spread you before laying his tongue flat against your core.

His free hand held your leg in place as he started kitten licking at your clit. Your hands came to grip his hair, tugging at it gently.

“Hoon,” You whimper as he flickers his tongue against your clit, “Feels good.”

He grinned up at you, pushing two fingers into your cunt as he continued swirling his tongue around your clit. Sunghoon’s fingers were going at a brutal pace, causing broken moans to leave your lips and legs shake underneath his grip.

“Hoon, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that," Your grip tightening on his hair.

"Make a mess all over my face, baby." Sunghoon said, not slowing the pace of his fingers, "Show me how good I make you feel."

With Sunghoon's praise, you let the knot in your stomach finally let go. Your orgasm hit you harshly and all you could do was moan Sunghoon's name and rut your hips against his lips.

His tongue or fingers didn't stop, lapping up the mess from your orgasm. The overstimulation felt too good, and you could feel your hips chasing after his fingers.

Sunghoon pulled his fingers and sat up, looking down at you.

And what a site to behold.

His hair was disheveled from your pulling and lips were shining with your wetness.

“You think I’d let you cum again on just my fingers?” He asked, hands trailing up to pinch your nipples, “Baby, I’m not done with you quite yet.”

Sunghoon brought his hands to your hips, flipping you onto your stomach. He forced your hips up, “Come on baby, arch for me.”

You complied, sitting up on your knees and leaning forward. All of your weight was on your palms, and arched your back the way Sunghoon wanted. You could hear rustling behind you before his hand came back to hold your hip.

“Think you can handle it?” He leaned down, his bare chest pressed against your back.

A scoff left your lips, “More than capable, but do you think you can handle this?”

“Mm, I don’t know” Sunghoon whispered, kissing down your back before pushing into you, “Definitely the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

You pushed your hips back against him, moaning at the stretch of his cock, “Definitely the best dick I’ve ever had.”

Sunghoon gave you a moment to adjust before fucking you back onto his cock at a fast pace. You tried to keep yourself up, but fell to your elbows and face smushed into the cushion below you.

One of Sunghoon’s hands snuck underneath your stomach and began rubbing figure eights into your clit, causing a borderline scream to escape your lips. He laughed at your reaction, letting up on you ever so slightly.

“God y/n,” He groaned, “I’ve never seen somebody go crazy for my dick like this before, must’ve really missed it.”

Sunghoon pushed your back down into a deeper arch, groaning when you clenched around him, “Fuck baby, you gonna squirt on this cock?”

The pleasure was too overbearing to the point only broken moans could leave your lips, the familiar knot in your abdomen was forming once again. Sunghoon’s brutal pace only quicked, causing a silent scream to escape from your mouth as you let your orgasm take over once again.

Sunghoon slipped out of you, slapping his tip against your sensitive folds as he looked at the mess between your thighs, “What a messy baby, squirting all over my dick like that.”

You could barely hold yourself up, trying to compose yourself as you came down from your high.

“You didn’t cum yet,” You breathed out, turning yourself to lay on your back, “And I wanna feel it.”

Sunghoon smirked at you, leaning down to kiss you as he slid himself back into your cunt, “Anything my pretty girl wants.”

You were busy sucking a hickey underneath his jawline as he fucked into you slowly, groaning into your ear.

“You’re the best fuck ever,” Sunghoon whispered, hips stuttering as he approached his own orgasm, “Nobody takes me as well as you do.”

A laugh escaped you, hands playing with his hair as you continued leaving small hickies down his neck, “Have fun explaining these to your other bitches.”

“You’re the only person I fuck, y/n,” He rolled his eyes, pulling out of you.

“Oh.” Is all you said, sitting up as you searched for your safety shorts, pulling them back over your hips.

Sunghoon threw his clothes back on lazily, stretching as he stood up, “Well, have a goodnight.”

“You aren’t gonna stay?”

He laughed as he kissed the top of your forehead, “Do I ever stay?”

Sunghoon gently kissed your lips before opening the door, “Call me?”

“What about your chain?”

“I’ll get it next time.”

“Who’s chain is that?” Jungwon asked, stopping in front of you with an accusing look, “That’s new.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him, “It’s nobody’s, and like you said, it’s new.”

Jungwon stared at you, looking for any reason to accuse you of lying, “Are you still mad at me?”

The truth was, not really. You kind of forgot about Jungwon and Isa for the last few days, thanks to Sunghoon. He really knew how to make you forget things. Must be his dick.

“Nah,” You shrugged, “Don’t care. If you don’t mind though, I have practice.”

This time, Jungwon scoffed, “I know, we practice at the same time.”

You laughed at him, turning away and letting your hair hit him in the face, “If you are sorry, well, prove it.”

“See you after practice?”

Bingo! You thought to yourself, sparing him one more glance, “Sure.”

Jungwon watched as you walked away, noticing how good your ass looked in those shorts and how easily your hips swayed.

“Whatcha starin at?” Somebody asked from behind Jungwon, making him jump.

He sighed in relief when he saw that it was just Sunghoon, “Oh, nothing.”

Sunghoon’s eyes caught you just before you turned the corner, “Ah, nothing.”

Jungwon paused for a moment, eyes catching something he hadn't noticed until just now, “What happened to your necklace? The one you swore you wouldn’t take off even when you reached the pearly gates?”

“Oh,” Sunghoon said casually, “Needed to be cleaned, supposed to get it back soon.”

“Right,” Jungwon replied, “Let’s get to practice. I have plans.”

Jungwon met you at your apartment, waiting for you to open the door at any moment. He regretted wearing a sleeveless top in the nippy weather, but he knew that his arms made you go insane.

Finally, when you did open the door, Jungwon felt his slight annoyance melt away with how dolled up you were.

You wore a purple knitted headband, curls pushed back and spilling over your shoulders. You wore clear coated lip gloss and shimmering silver eyeshadow, matching your jewelry. Jungwon noticed something significant already missing.

“Took your new chain off, huh?” He asked, waiting for you to step to the side, “Guess you didn’t like it that much.”

“Guess not,” You rolled your eyes, moving to let him in, tightening your robe around you, “Sorry for the wait, I had to get ready.”

Jungwon winked at you, shutting the door as he followed you to your bedroom, “All dolled up for me, darling?”

“For myself,” You corrected, holding a candle in your palm and you lit it, “But I guess for you as well.”

He waited for you to come to him, leaning back on his arms as he watched you move, “You know, y/n, with you ditching me, I was wondering if there was somebody else who took my place.”

A cackle escaped your lips as you looked at him with a challenging look, “Took your place? Oh, I guess you noticed after you were done fucking my teammate when you know, you should’ve been in my bed.”

“One, I didn’t hook up with Isa,” Jungwon stated, “Just some heavy petting, and two, you know you’re the only girl I take seriously.”

“Grow up Jungwon, even you know that isn't true,” You stalked closer to him, “Because I don’t take you seriously.”

“Aw, you don’t?” He asked, sitting up and leaning towards you, “Such a shame, I would love to be your favorite on the roster.”

You met him halfway, “There is no roster. I thought you came to fuck, not try convince me you want to take me out or some shit.”

“I do wanna take you out, pretty girl,” Jungwon whispered, thumb grazing over your cheekbone, “And ruin everybody’s day.”

Jungwon laughed loudly as you pushed him back, slowly moving to straddle him, “You don’t think that would be fun?”

“Nope,’ You emphasized, coming nose to nose with him, “You’re just a sneaky link.”

A playful pout appeared on Jungwon’s face, “Aw man, if I knew that, I wouldn’t have let you borrow my necklace that I never got back, I might add.”

“Get it before you leave.” Is all you said before connecting your lips with his.

The two of you softly kiss for a while, Jungwon running his hands up and down your smooth thighs, squeezing them periodically.

Jungwon pushed his hips up into you eliciting a quiet moan from your plush lips. His hands move up to your hips, pushing them down as he rolls his up.

“Wonnie,” You whimper, fingers digging into his shoulders as you felt him harden underneath you, “Missed me bad, huh?”

Jungwon smirked up at you, his thumbs teasing at the waistband of your shorts, “The way you’re rubbing yourself on me, I think you missed me bad.”

You rolled your eyes as you removed yourself off his lap, Jungwon immediately sitting himself up on his elbows with a pout, “What are you doing?”

“I think you’re the one who missed me badly,” Was all you said before dropping to your knees and in between his legs, playing with the drawstrings of his joggers, “Take these off,”

Jungwon looked down at you, lifting his hips up to pull them down, kicking them off next to you. His thumb played with your bottom lip, pushing it into your mouth and smiling when you automatically started to suck.

“Such a good girl,” He cooed, pulling his thumb out and replacing it with the tip of his cock, “So me how good you can make me feel.”

Like second nature, you stuck your tongue out and Jungwon slapped his cock against it, forcing a moan out of you. Slowly, he pushed his cock into your mouth, groaning at the warmth.

His hand came behind you, putting your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pushed you down on his length, making you gag.

Your hands gripped his thighs, hands digging in as he began to fuck your mouth, letting out soft moans around him.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good,” Jungwon moaned out, tugging on your hair a bit tighter, “Fuck.”

All you could do was moan, bringing a hand to wrap around the base of his cock, eliciting a string of moans from Jungwon.

Jungwon’s thrusts got sloppy, and you knew he was getting close to his orgasam. His hips stuttered as you squeezed the base of his cock and sucked harshly on the tip.

Jungwon’s hand pushed you as far down on his cock as he could, his cum spilling down your throat as he let out a loud whine.

That was new.

You waited a few more moments before pulling off his cock, looking up at him.

What a sight to behold, your eyes were watering and your shimmering eyeshadow was running down your cheeks. Jungwon was pretty damn sure that your lip gloss was on the base of his dick, but who’s paying attention to details.

His hand stroked your hair, adjusting your headband before pulling you back onto the bed.

“Still doing okay?” Jungwon asked, looking down at you and rubbing your thigh gently.

You gave him an enthusiastic nod, lifting your hips as he pulled down your shorts and panties.

Jungwon ran two figures between your folds, biting his lip as he looked at the wetness that coated them, “So wet just from sucking dick, huh.”

“Stop,” You covered your face in embarrassment, because Jungwon knew you like the back of his hand, unfortunately.

“I like it,” He cooed, rubbing your clit and taking in your moans, “Glad to know I make you this wet, only I can make you this wet, huh?”

That wasn’t entirely true. . . but it’s not like Jungwon knew about the other people you see in explicit detail, and it’s also not like he tells you about his other endeavors.

“Just you, Wonnie.” You moaned out, hand wrapping around his wrist as he continued rubbing your clit.

He leaned down to kiss you harshly, slipping two fingers into your cunt and causing you to cry out.

Jungwon fucked his fingers in and out of you as he sucked hickeys into your neck, it completely slipping your mind what he was doing.

One of your hands was tangled in his hair, tugging on it while the other hand was wrapped around Jungwon’s cock.

He was particularly whiny, which is new, Jungwon doesn’t typically whine despite you telling him how hot it was to hear.

“Won,” You moaned as he continued sucking on your neck, “Fuck me already, please.”

“Condom?”

“In the usual spot.”

Jungwon pulled himself away from you, leaning over and opening the drawer. He rummaged around before pulling the foiled package out and slipping the condom on.

“Ready?”

You nodded, moaning at the stretch as Jungwon pushed into your cunt slowly.

Jungwon waited a few moments to let you adjust before slowly moving his hips, “Fuck, your cunt feels so good around me.”

His pace began to pick up, causing you to dig your nails into the back of his t-shirt and moaning against his neck.

There wasn’t much to think about except how good Jungwon fucked you, and your mouth couldn’t fix itself to say much besides his name.

You lifted your hips to meet his own, causing his cock to hit your sweet spot and have you seeing stars.

Broken moans and the slapping of skin were the only noises that filled the room, your hands moved all over Jungwon’s back.

Jungwon was getting close, the way his hips stuttered and his eyes squeezed tight.

“Close so soon?” You tried to tease, but immediately regretted it when Jungwon thrusted particularly hard into you, “Let me finish on top.”

He shook his head, “No baby, have to make up for making you upset. Let me do the work, you just lay here like the good girl you are.”

With words like that, how could you resist being a pillow princess right now? Jungwon wrapped your leg around his waist, moving his hand to rub your clit as he fucked into you with more passion.

“Your cunt feels so good, y/n,” He moaned into your ear, “Nobody could take my cock the way you do.”

Instead of coming up with a reply to Jungwon, you just grinded back onto his hips, helping yourself reach your own orgasm.

“Won,” You whimpered as he continued rubbing your clit in figure eights, “‘M so close.”

“Finish baby,” Jungwon kissed down your neck, “Cum on this dick, make it yours.”

You arched your back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm hit you, clenching down on Jungwon which pushed him over the edge, spilling into the condom.

Jungwon rested on his elbows as he looked down at you, taking in the sight of how fucked out you were, “Your pussy is for sure the best I’ve ever had.”

“That’s quite a compliment considering how many girls ran through you,” You teased, kissing his forehead, “But get off, you’re heavy.”

He winced as he pulled out, standing up to dispose of the condom before coming back to you.

By time he reached the room, you already cleaned up and scrolling on your phone, “Didn’t even let me clean you up.”

You just hummed in response, “Are you staying or going?”

He scoffed, pulling his joggers back on and fixing his shirt, “As if you ever let me stay, plus, I’m seeing somebody else after this.”

What an ass, you thought, rolling your eyes before turning back onto your side.

“Whatever, grab your necklace before you go.”

Jungwon visibly frowned at your nonchalant behavior, but turned to your dresser to retrieve his prized necklace.

His fingers danced over the cherry-wood box, opening the side where you normally keep your necklaces. He ran his index finger over the necklaces, stopping on a familiar one.

His eyes must be fucking with him, they had to be.

There is absolutely no way he is touching a necklace that has PSH on the clasp. A necklace that he knew was one of a kind. One that he never saw the true owner without.

“Holy shit,” He whispered, grabbing his necklace and slamming the door shut a bit too hard, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

You were too engrossed in your phone to notice, were you texting Sunghoon?

“Bye.” Jungwon bit out, trying to subside his anger as you bid your farewells.

This was fucking great.

You haven’t heard from Sunghoon or Jungwon in about a week and a half. It was quite odd seeing that Sunghoon always texted back, and Jungwon reached out first.

Every time you tried to catch their eyes at practice, they would revert on their own and focus on whatever they were doing more intensely.

Jungwon always acted like that though, and he was the one who went to see Isa after he was with you, so you’re not sure why he was upset.

Sunghoon said you were the only one he was seeing, and he always wanted to see you when your schedule allowed for it.

Did they figure out that you were– No that is impossible. There is no way they would have reason to even talk about you. Sunghoon maybe, but Jungwon? Absolutely not.

Even then, Jungwon is not the type to keep quiet about something like that.

This bothered you, but what could you do when they avoided you like the plague?

Nothing, the best thing would be to act nonchalant to see who cracks first.

And that’s what you would do.

Game on.

It was Friday night, which meant it was game night. Playoffs were tonight, and you needed to make sure you looked and did your best tonight.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, admiring the work you did. There is no way that those two can resist you tonight. From the shimmering eyeshadow to your glossy lips to the two necklaces that adorned your neck, your plan was now in motion.

The hard part would be to not look at them if they looked at you, probably harder than you imagine it to be because you face the court all night.

When the game started, you stood in front of the locker room that the team comes out of, holding your hands together as you anticipated their arrival.

As soon as you saw the doors move ever so lightly, you began your call off to the other girls that it was time.

The anger, annoyance, and the small sliver of excitement rippled through you as you stomped and shaked while the basketball team ran out on the court.

Of course, Sunghoon and Jungwon would be last to come out of the locker room, so you tried your hardest to keep your eyes forward, staring at your teammate across from you.

However, your facade almost slipped when Sunghoon glanced your way for just a second, eyeing you as you cheered for him.

You almost stumbled over yourself trying to get back to the stands after that, wanting to quickly shake such an interaction from your mind.

It was going to be a long night.

And it was a long night indeed. You had no idea that the team your school was playing had such good skill. Maybe it’s time to return back to your MaxPrep days after this.

There were a few fleeting moments of Sunghoon and Jungwon looking at you, but you only watched them out of your peripheral vision, not letting either of them have the satisfaction of you looking their way.

Instead, you would send flirty looks to another player, Jay? You think that was his name. Who cares? He was hot, plus you just wanted Jungwon and Sunghoon to give you attention.

For the remainder of the game, you focused on leading your team and hoping the two noticed you ignoring them, rather focusing on their blonde teammate.

The buzzer rang indicating that the game was over, and unlike last week, your team won by a plethora of points.

Winning this game meant your team was heading for playoffs, quite a comeback from the insane loss of last week.

You were sure the basketball team and by extension, the cheerleading team, would be out celebrating together.

Was Sunghoon or Jungwon going to be there? Shit, who cares. Maybe Jay will.

If either of them won’t give you attention, their teammate definitely will.

“y/n,” One of your teammates, Isa, came up to you as you were grabbing your cheer bag from underneath the bleachers, “Are you coming to NV?”

You shrugged, “Depends on who’s going.”

“All of the basketball team,” She purred, twirling hair around one of her manicured fingers, “Jungwon asked me to invite the girls.

Dickhead. You thought, but let the smile remain on your lips, “Sure. When are we going?”

“Now.”

“In our uniforms?” You asked, “Kind of tacky.”

Isa’s smile seemed a bit too sweet, “Well, we figured we would win, so we talked about it earlier this week. Everybody brought something to change into.”

“Must’ve missed that memo,” You rolled your eyes, knowing that it must’ve been somewhat purposeful that nobody told you, “But luckily, I have clothes in my car.”

Thank God you never cleaned your car out from that one time Sunghoon fucked you in the backseat.

“See you there,” Isa sang as you sauntered off to your vehicle.

You hummed to yourself as you threw your duffle into your trunk, not noticing the tall figure standing next to you.

A yelp left you when you did take notice, and it was none other than Park Sunghoon. He was wearing a simple white button down and jeans.

He looked good, but you didn’t want to show any interest in him, not right now anyway.

“Do you have my necklace by any chance?” He asked, eyes looking everywhere but your face, clearly nervous.

You scoffed, pulling it from underneath your cropped turtleneck, quickly unclasping it and practically throwing it at him.

He caught it, but he still stood there, “You’re not going to speak to me?”

Turning towards him, your eyebrows furrowed and stepped closer, “Just returning the fucking favor, Sunghoon.”

Now he had the audacity to roll his eyes, “Well, given what I know, it was warranted.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” You threw your arms up, “Was I supposed to just text you and beg for your attention?”

“Clearly that wasn’t needed, seeing how you were eye fucking Jay,” He spat, “Who’s next? My roommate Heeseung? My fraternity brother Jake? God already knows you conquested Jungwon.”

You took a step back, trying to mask your horror of him knowing this, “Don't threaten me with a good time. I’ll make sure they leave a Google review too. You’re not my boyfriend, Sunghoon. What do you care who I fuck?”

Sunghoon’s face had a flash of hurt, “I know I’m not, y/n. But Jungwon is my friend, and you should’ve told me. I don’t know why you didn’t.”

You ran your hand down your jaw, looking down at your feet in shame, “Because Sunghoon, Jungwon and I just fuck. He is just a sneaky link, and I’m just a sneaky link to him. There’s a whole roster, and I know he doesn’t take me seriously. Same for you. We just. . . fuck, and just because you said there wasn’t anybody else doesn’t mean that’s entirely true.”

A sigh left Sunghoon’s lips, “y/n, I like you. I think you’re great, and I thought I made that clear.”

“But you didn’t,” You felt your heart contracting, as if it were tightening up, “You only came over to fuck, and I begged you to stay. Every time. Which is fine, that’s what we did, so don’t try to make me feel bad for fucking your friend because I don’t feel bad.”

“I let you wear my necklace, that’s clearly meaningful. I’m never without it, so sorry I didn’t stay the night, but I showed it in other ways.”

“God,” You laughed at him pathetically, “You sound even more delusional than your friend. You like me so much to fuck me and let me wear your necklace, but don’t stay the night. At least Jungwon was semi-realistic.”

“Oh so now you’re comparing us?” Sunghoon laughed, squeezing his jaw, “Who’s better then, huh?”

“Don’t.” You spat, slamming the trunk of your car closed, “Your ego is already fucking bruised.”

Sunghoon moved closer to you, “Oh, you think Jungwon’s better then, huh? He makes you squirt all on his dick and into an incoherent mess?”

“Well—no,” You began, breath hitching as Sunghoon continued to move closer, “But he does things better than you do.”

“Like what?” His hands reach out to grab your waist, pulling you close to him, “Tell me so I can show you how much better than I am.”

“That’s not being a good friend,” You whisper, fingers playing with the ends of his hair, “But he is a way better kisser than you.”

Sunghoon closed the gap between you two, his plush lips warm against your own. You moved your arms to wrap around his neck, gently biting down on his lip to push your tongue into his mouth.

He moved his hands to your thighs, fingers dancing over the hem of your cheer skirt. They slowly began to creep underneath the thin material, making you shiver at the contact.

“Starting without me?” Somebody interjected, causing the two of you to pull away.

Your face became hot when you saw Jungwon standing there, a wide grin and arms crossed.

“Don’t be embarrassed now,” He continued, “Sunghoon just can’t seem to accept the fact that I had you first and I’m better.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “In your dreams.”

“Tell him,” Jungwon motioned towards you, “Tell him how I make you whine.”

“Um,” You bit your lip, “Actually, I’m the one who makes you whine.”

It was Jungwon’s turn to blush as Sunghoon let out a very loud cackle, “That’s great, but I’m still better.”

“I think we should let y/n decide,” Jungwon shrugged, trying to take the heat off him, “y/n?”

You pondered for a few moments, trying to piece together what exactly he’s asking, “Like. . . now?”

“Not here,” Jungwon giggled, “But maybe your place?”

The heat between your legs seems to be unbearable, fucking Jungwon and Sunghoon? Did you die and go to heaven?

“Yeah,” You nodded almost too enthusiastically, “But what about NV?”

“What about it?” Sunghoon asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Let’s go, angel.”

You slid into the driver’s seat, waiting for the two boys to get in the car. You felt like you were shaking the entire ride home, with excitement and nerves.

There’s a lot of things you’ve done, but a threesome? Never.

The two boys were silent, probably feeling the same nerves of anticipation that you were.

Pulling into your driveway, you shakily put your car in park and practically ran up the slope to your front door.

Your grip on the keys were tight, trying to not drop them. When you heard the soft click, you pushed the door open and the rep followed in behind you.

Kicking your shoes off, you turned around to face Jungwon and Sunghoon. You bit your lip, waiting for one of them to say or do something, anything.

“Um,” Sunghoon coughed, “So?”

Jungwon busted out in laughter, ignoring the glare Sunghoon shot at him, “You never had a threesome before?”

You and Sunghoon both shook your heads no, causing Jungwon to step forward and wrap an arm around your waist, “Well, I’ll show you how to do this, Hoon.”

Jungwon looked down at you, a glint in his eyes as you leaned in closer. You could feel his breath fanning across your lips, gently pressing his lips onto yours.

The kiss started off gently, hands gripping your waist as your arms wrapped around his neck. Jungwon’s fingers delicately slipped underneath your top, grazing your back. As he bit your lower lip gently, Jungwon pushed his tongue into your mouth as you felt a presence behind you.

Sunghoon pressed himself into your back, hands dancing underneath your skirt. Jungwon’s kiss got more feverish, fingers moving to the front of your top. His thumbs circling your nipples over your sports bra, eliciting a moan from you.

Jungwon pulled away from you, forcing you to turn and face Sunghoon now, who looked like he wanted to devour you.

His lips crashed against yours, replacing his hands back under your skirt and resting on your ass. You pushed into his hold, moaning into his mouth when Jungwon’s nimble fingers found their way underneath your sports bra.

You whimpered when Jungwon pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as Sunghoon squeezed your ass. The safety shorts you wore under your skirt felt uncomfortable as they cling to your thighs the more wet you got.

Sunghoon pulls your shorts down, waiting for you to kick them off your feet before he slides his hands between your thighs to your cunt. He dragged his fingers between your folds, circling your clit to elicit a moan from you.

You gripped his forearm and leaned back into Jungwon, who was still playing with your tits.

Jungwon leaned down, placing kisses and hickies along your neck. You exhaled roughly through your nostrils when Sunghoon slipped a finger into you.

The two men found a rhythm between themselves, Sunghoon pumping his lithe fingers in and out of your cunt while Jungwon used one hand to pinch your nipples, the other rubbing your clit.

Your knees went weak minutes ago, pressing your weight between the two boys and making borderline pornographic noises. Sunghoon smirked at you, picking the pace of his movements up and Jungwon made slow figure eights on your clit.

Pressure rose in your stomach, the familiar knot beginning to form and Sunghoon noticed, watching how your thighs spasmed.

He picked up the pace of his fingers, leaning in to attach his lips to one of your nipples and suck harshly.

A string of moans escaped from your lips, one hand wrapping around Jungwon to grip his forearm and the other on Sunghoon’s back.

You tighten your thighs around Sunghoon’s hand as you reach your orgasm. His lips muffled the borderline scream that left you.

It took you a few ragged breaths to untangle yourself from this awkward position, Sunghoon pulling his fingers out of your cunt and into his mouth.

Fuck, he’s so hot. You felt like you could go again.

“I need to fuck you, like now.” Sunghoon said, interrupting your train of thought, pulling away from you momentarily.

Jungwon unattached himself as well, quickly pulling his shirt over his head and somewhere in your living room.

You followed suit, pushing the rest of your sports bra up and over, keeping your eyes on the two men in front of you.

Sunghoon pulled his sweats off, no underwear, slut. The tip of his dick red and leaking precum already.

He grabbed you by your waist, bringing you to sit on his lap when he settled onto your couch.

“How should we do this?” Sunghoon asked, looking at Jungwon, then at you.

You shrugged while Jungwon tapped on his chin thoughtfully.

“Have her ride you in reverse so I can get a taste of that sweet cunt,” Jungwon purred, winking at you when he noticed your flustered look.

Sunghoon kisses your shoulder before effortly turning you around, “You heard him, angel.”

You wrapped your hand around the base of Sunghoon’s cock, stroking it a few times before pushing the head into your heat.

His head rested against the couch as you slowly sunk down, your walls clenching at the stretch that was painfully delicious.

It took a few minutes for you to adjust, laying your back against Sunghoon’s chest. His lips dance against the nape of your neck.

Jungwon’s fingers dug into the plush skin of your thighs and he brought himself closer to you.

Sunghoon’s hands gripping your waist in a way that you were sure would leave bruises as he started to move you on his dick.

A string of moans left your lips as his thick cock split you open. Jungwon waited before you adjusted before he finally put his lips on your clit.

Your hands tangled in Jungwon’s hair as Sunghoon continued fucking you, causing your clit to hit Jungwon’s nose.

Whimpers left the younger boy’s lips as he ate you out with vigor, pushing you closer to your peak.

“You feel so good around me, y/n,” Sunghoon groaned, “It’s like this pussy was made for me.”

You were too fucked out to even come up with a coherent response, letting out a whimper and clenching around Sunghoon’s dick.

Jungwon continued eating you out, slipping his tongue into your cunt alongside Sunghoon. The grip you had on his hair was probably painful, but if it was, Jungwon didn’t seem to mind.

“Isn’t Wonnie so nice to help me fuck you into oblivion baby?” Sunghoon whispered, “Go on, show him how I make you finish.”

You squeezed your eyes tightly shut when Sunghoon practically slammed you back on his tongue as Jungwon’s tongue deliciously pushed into you.

A familiar coil in your stomach began to come undone, whimpers and moans leaving your lips as you let both men use you.

Jungwon pulled his tongue out as your cunt forced Sunghoon out, liquid spraying all over your thighs and Jungwon’s face.

“You ever make her do that?” Sunghoon smirked at the younger boy, pushing back into you.

Jungwon rolled his eyes, but a glint of pleasantries were in his eyes, “y/n, baby, can I fuck your throat?”

A chuckle escaped both their lips as you desperately nodded, tongue out waiting for him.

Hurriedly, he pushed his shorts and boxers down, pressing the head of his dick against your tongue.

You swiped over the tip quickly, eyes rolling back as precum seeped into your mouth.

“Such a doll,” Jungwon groaned, pushing his dick further into your mouth, “Choke on it baby.”

His head hit the back of your throat bluntly, causing your eyes to water as he started to thrust into it.

You used a hand to wrap around the base of his dick as Sunghoon began to thrust up into you again.

Both men found a rhythm of fucking you, muffled noises leaving your mouth as you took Jungwon.

“Fuck,” Sunghoon’s head fell back against the couch, “I’m so fucking close.”

You pulled off of Jungwon, the younger boy whining from the loss of contact, but you paid him no mind.

Your watery eyes locked with Sunghoon, leaning in to whisper, “Finish in me.”

Sunghoon’s eyes rolled back as he began to fuck into you with even more vigor, you going back to Jungwon’s dick.

The younger’s hand coming to the back of your head to push you flush against his pelvic bone, spurts of cum shooting down your throat.

You swallowed all you could, some dribbling down the side of your mouth as you pulled off with a wet pop.

Jungwon tsk’d, wiping it up before shoving his thumb into your mouth, “What a shame, normally you take it all, baby.”

You wrapped your own hand around his wrist, continuing to suck on his finger as Sunghoon’s cum filled you to the brim.

A squeal left your lips as your orgasam approached, thighs shaking and feeling such a pleasure of ecstasy.

The room was silent for a few minutes, jagged breathing heard from all three of you as you processed what just happened.

Sunghoon whimpered from the overstimulation of you on his dick, gently lifting you up as he pulled his dick out. You felt empty with the loss of contact, but laid against the arm of the couch as you recovered from an intense orgasm.

“So,” Jungwon was the first to speak, “Since I didn’t get to fuck you, I believe that this experiment is inconclusive, and we should test it again.”

Your eyes widened as a laugh escaped you, looking at Sunghoon.

“You’re so on.”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Rules

Summary: Joel wants you pregnant. And you want to have Joel's baby. And not even a big council meeting would stop the two of you from getting what you wanted.

Pairing: Raider!Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Rating: E

Warnings: Raider!Joel who has his own little community, smut (public sex, unprotected sex), massive breeding kink, dirty talk, established relationship (kind of), unspecified age gap (around 15 years prob), massive exhibition kink, someone dies because he looks at reader for too long, so guns and death, mentions of drugs, Joel picks reader up and carries her away but this is fiction so Joel has super powers to carry anyone he likes anywhere because I say so

A/N: three fics, four days. I am going to hibernate into my horny jail now. Boop!

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It was getting dark and he still wasn’t back.

He told you he had the council meeting today, but you were running out of time. Every minute getting you farer away from the window you needed him to hopefully grant him his biggest wish. 

Making him a Dad. 

According to your calculations your fertile window for the month was closing and you needed him. 

Joel and you found each other almost a year after the outbreak. You, alone since you fled your college on outbreak day, stumbling towards the abandoned Ikea store in search of just something to drink or eat, Joel stepping in front of you before you could even reach the door, his hand wrapping around your neck, making you look at him as he questioned what you were doing. 

Even years later you felt like he was sent to you from a higher power to safe you. 

To feed you. 

To own you. 

To fuck you. 

You became his wife, not even a month after joining his little group, that now was bigger than ever before, people living in all the abandoned department stores around, living under his protection. 

You were his only wife, even though he allowed all his men to have as many wives as they pleased. 

He was pretty possessive about you, and you over him. Sure, you couldn’t actually do anything against him taking another wife if he wanted to, but he assured you from the beginning that he was a one wife kind of husband. 

And he demanded the same in return, not that you had a problem with that.

Joel was known to be a fair but ruthless leader. He had no time for bullshit and he didn’t give second chances. 

The power he wielded had become one of your biggest turn ons, fascinated how with a flick of his fingers, his men would dispose of every problem, every person he did not trust. 

There weren’t many rules around here. 

Listen to everything Joel says.

And don’t look at you the wrong way.

Something that you had to admit was hard when he was fucking you out in the open hallway. 

Most of his men knew not to look at you too long, no matter if it was in passing or when Joel was fucking you in front of them. 

You would look too, but you weren’t the one who would lose their cock or life for it. 

Glancing at the clock you knew your fertile window was closing. He had fucked you twice today already, but you didn’t want to waste more time. 

Standing up from the bed you took your clothes including your underwear off, grabbing a wrap dress he had found for you years before, wrapping it around your body. Pulling on some high heels he loved to see you in, looking at yourself in the mirror you gave yourself a small smirk, before you opened the door, waiting for your assigned guard of the day to step away from the door, before you started to walk towards where you knew Joel held his meetings. 

„This is becoming a real fucking problem. A problem I pay you for to get rid off. What the fuck is taking so long?“ Joel hissed, his jaw twitching as he sat at the edge of the table, legs wide spread, a glass of whiskey in his right hand. 

He had been stuck in this room with twenty of his men and nothing was going according to plan. 

It was moment like this he really missed Tess. She’d have this shit done weeks ago.

„More clickers than we planned for. We hope we’ll be done by the end of tomorrow,“ Sam, one of the men who had been with his group the longest assured, and Joel sipped on his drink. 

„I want the whole building cleared by the end of the week. Then I want you to extend the outer wall around it. We need more fucking space so we can extend the drug lab. Frank is expecting a new drop by the end of the month in exchange for more ammunition,“ he reminded them. 

„I’ll take care of it personally,“ Tommy said, who was sitting to his right, looking at him and Joel gave him a quick nod. 

„There are to many fucking assholes trying to get into this settlement. Too many to handle. Might be time to stop for a while,“ one of his other advisors spoke up but Joel wasn’t listening to anything after that, cause he heard the familiar clicking of your heels before the door opened and you walked in. 

A vision in purple silk, giving him a big smile as you walked into the room, the men around him staggering to their feet to show you their respect. 

„Please, don’t let me interrupt you. In fact, ignore my presence at all,“ you hummed, giving Tommy a quick peck to his cheek before you turned away from the table and straddled Joel’s lap, his hands coming to rest on your thighs. 

The conversation behind him opened up again, Tommy taking over while Joel stared at you. 

You made quick work of releasing the bow that held your dress together, letting the fabric part, his hungry eyes all over your naked body. One of his hands cupped one of your tits and you smiled at him. 

„Whatcha up to baby girl?“ He asked, already hardening in his pants. 

„Need you to cum in my wet little pussy again. Need you to fuck it deep inside of me so I can give you your baby,“ you leaned in, nibbling at his earlobe. He groaned as he tilted his head, his eyes closing for a moment as you kissed up his neck, his hands now both under your dress palming your ass roughly. 

When his eyes opened he found one of his newer men, Tom, looking at you, his eyes widening for a moment when he saw Joel had caught him, looking away quickly. 

„First strike,“ Joel’s voice boomed and you moaned before you kissed him, your hands in his hair, Joel’s eyes on Tom who had had the nerve to look at his wife. At you. 

Everyone knew the rules.

They look at you for too long, they die. He had lost a lot of men that way, but he didn’t fucking care. 

Your fingers were working on his zipper when the conversation in the room picked up again, one of the other men talking about the greenhouse and what shit they needed in the future. 

Boring. 

Joel grunted when your fingers wrapped around his cock, helping you pull his pants down a little so you could pull him out of his pants and he leaned down, sucking at you tits. 

„You gonna fight our kid for my milk huh,“ you teased and he bit into your nipple, making you moan. 

„Gotta get you pregnant first, baby girl,“ he sucked a bruised just above your right tit while you pumped his cock in your fist. 

„You gonna make me shoot all my men if you tease me like that one day,“ he grunted, bringing one hand between your legs, three fingers slipping inside of you with ease, a smirk coming to his lips. 

„My dirty little whore,“ he whispered against your ear and you gasped, your back arching against him, your dress falling down your shoulders, exposing your naked back to the room. 

Not that you cared. 

You loved when he fucked you in front of other people.

„Put your little pussy on this cock, baby girl,“ the fingers that had just been inside of you pushing into your mouth as you lifted your ass so you could line his cock up, sinking down on him slowly. 

„Fuck baby,“ you moaned and he leaned back in his seat, both of his hands now on your ass as he looked up at you. 

„Make yourself cum on this cock and I’ll fuck your ass later,“ he said and you whimpered as you began to ride him. Moving your hips on top of him, your hands on the armrests of his chair for leverage. He slapped your ass, hard, and you cried out. 

He watched you satisfied as you fucked yourself on his cock, before his eyes found someone behind you. 

„Don’t bother Elijah, his wife is super fucking pregnant. Find me tomorrow morning, and I’ll go,“ Joel said, still clearly listening to the conversation happening in front of him. You clenched around him and he looked at you again. 

„You get so fucking wet for me like this. Maybe I should always let you fuck me in my meetings. Would make them a whole of a lot more enjoyable,“ he hummed at you and you smiled. 

„You’d loose all your men within a week,“ you grinned, turning your head to look at Tommy. 

„Except Tommy,“ you hummed and the man looked at you, giving you a wink. 

„Tommy is family. He can look all he wants,“ Joel said and you winked back at Tommy before you focused back on Joel and began to bounce on top of him. The sound of skin slapping against skin and you moans filling the room. Joel played with your tits, pinching your nipple as you clenched around him. He pulled you against his chest, fucking up into you, his mouth against your ear. 

„Cum for me and I’ll fuck you on the table. And I’ll let everyone look when I put a fucking baby into your belly,“ he whispered and you moaned loudly as your orgasm washed over you, only realising that he had picked you up and sat you down on the table, when he had pushed your back down against the cold surface and began to drill his cock into you. 

„Watch how I fuck my slutty little wife full of my fucking cum,“ he grunted out with every thrust and you stretched your arms over your head, your tits moving with every hard thrust of Joel’s cock into you. 

„Joel,“ you moaned, crying out when he slapped your clit. 

„Gonna fuck you so full, you’ll be dripping all the way back to our rooms,“ he groaned, his eyes on you. 

„Shit baby,“ you whined and he groaned. 

„Watch,“ he grunted and you looked down, his cock pumping into you, your cum all over his cock, fucking you so hard the table was moving over the floor. 

„Shit,“ he moaned, his thrusts getting sloppier until he twitched and filled you with his cum, pumping it deeply into you. 

Still out of breath you gave him a dozy smile that he mirrored, before his eyes darkened, his gun in his hand the next moment, raising it up to shoot someone behind you. 

„Inform Tom’s family that he won’t be back,“ he said to no one in particular before he reached for you, helping you sit up. Apparently Tom had in fact not stopped looking at you before Joel gave his permission to look. 

He pulled the fabric of your dress back over your shoulders, his softening cock still inside of you, before he picked you up. 

„Meeting is dismissed,“ he called over his shoulder, before he carried you back towards your rooms. 

Where he fucked you once more to make sure it would finally take. 

[sttoru]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

⟣ sypnosis. you had been in your first ever relationship with suguru for a couple months now. neither of you have taken your relationship to the next level; suguru was extremely patient and never brought the topic of sex up until you one day decide you were ready.

⟣ note. first fic for my event :3 i spent way too much time on this fic so it turned out very detailed, long, romantic and fluffy. i hope you all enjoy and appreciate it teehee. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk ! wc: around 6.1k

⟣ tags. soft dom!geto suguru x virgin!female reader. fluff + smut. slow burn. age gap (reader 20-ish, suguru around 29/30), little talks about insecurity, loss of virginity, breast play, edging, teasing, fingering, lots of praise, dirty talk, size difference!, p in v — unprotected (dont b like reader and use protection please), creampie, aftercare, suguru’s really romantic and just a softie for u, suguru being a good ‘dad’ to mimiko and nanako and teeny tiny bits of him secretly being a pervert.

never in a million years had suguru expected his girlfriend to be so upfront about such a big, personal decision. the thought of having you say those words had never crossed his mind.

“can you repeat that for me, sweetheart?”

could you blame him for asking you to clarify the words you’ve uttered? that man has seen you as an oblivious and innocent woman ever since the start of your relationship. of course, unbeknownst to him, your thoughts were anything but that.

you may be a virgin, but your mind was a place for the most lewd and nasty thoughts. it’s just that you’ve been scared of being intimate with a man—it’s frightening, especially when having heard the many online stories about how badly it could hurt. some say that such descriptions were over exaggerating, however your inexperience still lead you to believe everything you’ve read about the topic.

and then you started dating an older man named suguru. you’ve met him by chance at a mall in kyoto and he was the first one who approached the other. you remember how suguru politely asked you for some advice regarding what type of presents he should get for ‘two teenage girls’. of course, you agreed to helping him out and that’s how you two eventually ended up brainstorming about possible ideas in a cozy café.

once seated, chosen drinks in both your hands, you asked the man whether the gifts were meant for his daughters. somehow, that’s the first connection the neurones in your brain had made once suguru told you about the two teenagers he was picking out presents for.

you remember it vividly; the sweet, gentle sound of the laughter that accounted as your answer, the eyes of the then stranger looking rather nostalgic as they stared into the liquid in his cup. suguru responded vaguely; “i guess you could say that, yes.”

that little ‘date’—if you could call it that—ended on a wholesome note. suguru thanked you for your time and made sure that you safely got into the train you needed to take home. he did want to offer you a car ride, however he kept that question to himself since he knew that no woman would voluntarily agree to be taken home by a stranger. even if suguru had the purest of intentions.

there were a couple more dates that followed after that one; all where you both gradually got to know each other better. you’ve found out so much about suguru—the details about his own life being both fascinating and sad at the same time. likewise, suguru had also learned much about you. he always shows great interest in what you tell him, even if it’s a minuscule detail. he remembers it all as well—a feature which caused you to feel funny things in your stomach.

you realised you were catching feelings for that mysterious yet sweet and loving man; it was inevitable. the way he makes you giggle, his respectful and easygoing manner of speaking, the slight touches you two shared on accident.. all of it added to your little crush.

however, you didn’t actually think suguru was falling for you too. you only met up for a few times, plus, you seem out of his league—both due to your age gap and difference in the things you’re pursuing at the time. you were in college, trying to get your degree whilst he already had a job as a powerful leader of an organisation and was trying to achieve one of many goals with them.

there’s not a chance he’d like you, right?

wrong. you were confessed to a couple weeks after your first meeting and have been in a relationship for over 4 months now. it still felt like a dream; having your first boyfriend be such a gentleman. it truly felt like you already met the love of your life whenever he was near.

suguru’s been nothing but sweet and caring to you, has never asked you to engage in any sexual activities nor even ever dared to touch you in places you haven’t consented to. the furthest you’ve gone in terms of intimacy in those four months, were make-out sessions. just some tongue action here and there—adding sprinkles of neck kisses and hickeys.

there were times where you wanted to let things escalate, however you couldn’t bring it upon yourself to ask your lover. suguru wasn’t the person to decide your feelings for you either—if there was no verbal consent coming from your lips, he’s not going any further. even if he wanted to as well.

you were grateful that suguru was that willing to wait for you, no matter how long it might take. not only were you anxious of the possible pain the sex would bring, but it was partially due to the fact that your lover was much more experienced in that field.

what if you were lacking? what if it wasn’t satisfactory enough for him and he’d eventually leave you for it? it’s obvious that suguru wasn’t the type of man to actually do that, however you couldn’t stop the many possibilities from running free in your brain.

your change of mind was rather spontaneous; it was today when you suddenly came up with your final decision. you were staying over at suguru’s, the sun was out and he was sitting on his balcony, reading a book whilst sipping on his coffee. what caught your eye was his bare back and the muscles which were on display to you.

suguru was shirtless and the seams of light were making his skin glisten—the view making your own body hot and bothered. you bit your lip and approached your boyfriend from behind, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before kissing his neck. that skin-to-skin contact made you sure of your decision; you needed him. in more ways than one.

that’s how you ended up saying what you said. the statement left suguru baffled since you uttered it in his ear out of the blue. he couldn’t deny one thing however; the idea certainly did send a shiver of excitement down his spine.

“i said,” you repeat with a little mischievous grin, leaning in closer to your lover once he turned around to face you properly—as if searching for any hints that your words were indeed not his imagination, “i wanna lose my virginity to you.”

it wasn’t. you actually said it—the words that would take your relationship a step further. although, suguru couldn’t help but wonder where your sudden decision came from. his hands found their way to yours and he held onto them like they were two delicate flowers.

“i’m happy to hear that, though i’m curious,” your lover starts off carefully as he places chaste yet soft kisses on your palms, “why so sudden?”

you shrug nonchalantly like you didn’t feel that twinge of nervousness in the back of your mind as you felt suguru’s lips on your skin. ‘it really was happening now, was it?’—that kind of feeling was the cause of your subtle anxiousness.

“well, ehh— you just looked good.. sitting there.. i guess.” you mumble, voice trailing off in embarrassment whilst your eyes darted around the balcony in attempt to avoid suguru’s gaze. your flustered expression and adorable confession makes him laugh gently. it was not a mocking laugh at all—more of an amused one;

“just when i thought you couldn’t get any cuter..” the long-haired man muses, the locks of his bangs grazing ever so slightly against your hands as he keeps holding them, “you never fail to surprise me, do you know that?”

suguru had a way with words that made you weak in the knees. or maybe it’s simply because he’s shirtless and kissing your palms so romantically. you don’t know which one it was.

“but, love,” suguru continues carefully as he stands up, your eyes following his as he towers over you, “are you a hundred percent sure? i don’t want to do anything you aren’t comf—“

“yes.” your answer cut your boyfriend off and he’s left in shock once more. your eyes were filled with determination, yet the faint glint of nervousness in them didn’t escape suguru’s sight. you’ve given your verbal consent and are even the first one to suggest the idea— what more could he ask of you?

there hung a silence between you two, the breeze blowing through suguru’s dark locks making him look even more majestic than he already was. you had no doubt about it; today was going to be the day. it had to be.

“then, if you’d let me have this,” his low voice sounded more sensual than it had ever been as his hand found its place on your cheek, fingertips rubbing against your ear, thumb softly pressing onto your skin—

a slow and romantic kiss followed straight afterwards. it had caught you slightly off guard, even when knowing fully well that this was what you were longing for.

his lips moved in tandem against yours, the soft touch making you feel certain emotions that you hadn’t even thought existed. this man whom you called your lover had never been unable to expose you to new sensations. and soon, he’ll grant you another one. a much pleasurable one.

one arm circled your waist, the other held up, hand on the back of your head to deepen the passion-filled kiss you shared. his lips parted your lightly trembling ones, the tips of your tongues attentively rubbing against one another as if to test the waters; was it fine to go further? are we actually doing this?

you were. it was set in stone as your throat formed soft noises of satisfaction, shaky breaths being exchanged by the two lovers on the balcony—not one of you realising that the weather was changing in the background. the sun was setting, creating the perfect mood for the situation as you were still engrossed by each other’s moves and touches.

it was only for the sake of catching your breath that you had pulled away. your cheeks felt hot, as did your entire body which was still pressed against suguru’s—chest to chest. the proximity was one you both had enjoyed many moments before, however this instant was unlike any other. you both knew as you stared at each other in silence, your quick breaths doing the talking instead.

“will you let me..” the voice of which you have grown to adore spoke to you, the owner grasping your attention once more by holding onto your hand. suguru’s fingers smoothly slid across your skin until they found the puzzle they were meant to complete—that being the gaps between your own fingers. once your hands were tightly intertwined, the man finishes his sentence;

“will you let me love you?”

his face was still close to yours as he uttered those beautiful words to you, warm breath lightly fanning the thin strands of hair on your cheeks to the side, lips subconsciously trying to brush against yours once more. but, they could wait. they could wait until the agreement leaves your mouth.

“of course.” the answer escapes before you could even register it properly. this makes suguru smile against your lips as he captured them in another sweet kiss. he muttered a small ‘thank you’ and then swept your legs off the floor—strong arms placed under your thighs to hold you up against his body whilst the hungry kisses continue.

suguru doesn’t know how he got there; carrying you over to his bed, settling you down onto the soft mattress, his body caging yours underneath him, eyes fluttering over every detail of your exposed skin. he hadn’t had you like this ever before; he hadn’t had you in his bed for a reason as sinful as this, only ever for cuddles or sleep.

“you’re beautiful.” the dark-haired man whispers as he carefully takes off the clothing covering your figure—the gorgeous skin his hands still have yet to explore. suguru can’t remember the last time he has treated anyone like this; like a treasure he’s had the honour to find and keep to himself. there hasn’t been a single woman in his life that he’s cared for this much—you’re the only one capable of mellowing him and his heart.

“stunning,” another compliment; another breath spent to praise you. your lover’s fingers teased the edges of your bra, lips kissing down your collarbone and towards the centre of your chest—each touch being done with precision. your bra became undone a second later and you let the straps fall of your arms, all the way until your breasts were fully revealed.

suguru’s breath hitches, mouth forming more saliva than in any previous instants, the liquid being pushed down his throat with a gulp. you didn’t have the chance to feel conscious of yourself in a moment like this; the dim light of the bedside lamp shone on suguru’s face, his lips glistening with a mixture of your saliva whilst his gaze was lingering on the new sight in front of him—he was utterly obsessed.

“may i?” his hands were already reaching out for the plump flesh and they came in touch once you nodded shyly. his palms were warm as they kneaded your breasts and his fingers brushed against your nipples, which made you whimper from how sensitive they were now that someone else has finally touched them.

suguru took notice of your reaction and put pressure on both small buds once again, thumbs rubbing your areolas in circular motions, “that good, princess?”

“mhmm— y-yes,” you mutter through a moan. your body was pushed further onto the mattress as your lover put more of his weight on you, your entire chest area getting covered by licks and kisses, slow and deliberate ones that left you yearning for more. suguru’s eyes gazed up at yours for consent once his parted lips hovered just above your sensitive nipples, his breath on them alone making you squirm already.

with another nod, suguru wasted no time taking one nipple into his warm mouth—wetting it with his saliva as his tongue slid around the area. his long fingers squeezed, twisted and pulled on your other nipple to give you both stimulations at once.

“mm, so good.” his muffled voice caused goosebumps to appear on your skin. suguru slowly lets his lips travel across your tits, sucking on them, even kissing down the curves until he reaches your torso. he gives that area the same amount of love and attention whilst your fingers were tangled around his smooth, long hair. suguru clearly seemed to enjoy the sensations; he let out small moans and hums against your bare skin to indicate that you should continue playing and tugging at his locks.

his tongue abruptly came to a stop right above the waistline of your panties—the barrier he was about to reach past for the first time. the hesitation was visible in his body language, however his fingers eventually tugged at the fabric, preparing to take it off.

your heart was beating out of your chest as you watched suguru slowly pull the last piece of cloth away. your thighs pressed together on instinct, stopping your panties from exposing your bare cunt.

“should i stop?” suguru asks with a raised eyebrow, fingers pulling away from your underwear now that he’s seen you close your legs. you didn’t want him to stop—it’s just the nerves that made your body move on its own command;

“please— no,” you shake your head, biting your lip as you swallowed your own saliva out of pure desire. you craved him now that it’s come this far, “need you. need you so bad, suguru.”

those words caused suguru’s brain to shut down. any irrelevant thoughts were thrown out of the window; the only thing his mind was telling him to do, was to take care of your needs. your body was laid out on his bed—trusting eyes looking up at his in anticipation, pretty hands grasping onto his sheets like it’d calm you down.

“i’m all yours, sweetheart.” suguru sighs, fingertips slightly shaking as he pulls your panties down to your ankles, eyes pausing on the revelation. to say that suguru was simply rendered speechless, was an understatement. that man was on the verge of letting loose of any self-control and just dive his face right between your thighs, eating you out like he’s fantasised of doing for a while now.

“fuck.” your boyfriend closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself before opening them to smile down at you—the handsome smile that was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him, “i’ll be careful. i promise.”

naturally, you nodded along. you’ve built up enough trust between one another during the past few months to let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. the palm of his hands patted your thighs slightly before spreading them apart, once again showing your glistening folds, a slight wetness to them from your own arousal.

suguru couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight. he’d already have devoured your dripping cunt if it wasn’t for his self-control. but, it was your first time. he couldn’t rush into things just yet.

“thank you, baby.” the dark-haired man whispered under his breath. he was showing his gratitude for the sight you allowed him to see—a sight only he had ever seen before. the only man to be able to witness the beauty before him. that fact alone made his eyes darken in lust ever so slightly.

his fingers carefully slid across your vulva, your bodily fluid coating the skin which makes him shiver and his fingers get bolder. the cute sounds that filled his ears were only making this even better for him.

the way your hips bucked up slightly into his touch—just asking for suguru to take you right then and there—was driving him insane. every vein in his body felt like it could pop with how much he was restraining his own self from acting out of line. his finger easily slid into the little hole and suguru almost couldn’t believe it; your pussy was clamping down on his finger, your insides tightly wrapped around him to the point that even he wouldn’t know if his dick would fit in.

“hnnngh, suguru, please— wan’ your cock already,” that dirty sounding sentence was one he didn’t expect to hear from a virgin. it made him shake his head with a small, delighted chuckle; you really never failed to surprise him.

“i know you do,” suguru purrs, pressing kisses against the curves of your tits whilst another finger of his joined to stretch your pussy out properly, “but i need to prep you enough if you wanna take my cock. can you be patient for me, sweetheart?”

“m’kay. gonna try..” his fingers pumped in and out of you, the feeling of them curling up deep inside you made your walls squeeze against them. you’ve played with yourself before, of course, however it was then that you discovered that nothing could ever compare to the real thing: suguru’s long and slightly girthy fingers.

just when you thought that it couldn’t get any better, you felt a third finger—not inside you--but on your clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves like you could’ve never done to yourself. suguru was so precise and exact with his actions which showed his experience. that’s another reason of why you’ve put all your trust in him. getting your virginity taken by a sweet, older and experienced man was probably ten times better than losing it to any guy your age, who were probably only out for sex.

suguru was there to make love to you.

your back arched once you felt suguru’s fingers increase their pace, the wet and squelchy sounds echoing through the room as they got louder the more your pussy got played with, his thumb almost overstimulating your clit to the point of release already—that’s how superb your lover’s hand movements were.

“no, no. can’t have you cum on my fingers like that.” you whine once you felt suguru take his fingers back the same moment you were about to reach your first orgasm by someone else’s hands. the older man smirks at this and kisses you on the lips, pulling away slowly with your bottom lip between his teeth, letting it lightly flop back into place as he lets go; “i wanna have you cum together with me, okay?”

you couldn’t refuse such a romantic request, thus you nod. suguru smiles back at you once more before his hands move to take off his sweatpants, tossing the piece of clothing to the side. your eyes widened as you were propped on your elbows, gaze lingering on the massive bulge formed at the crotch area, his boxers not hiding much of the shape.

once the underwear was off as well—that’s when you realised that your underlying anxiousness was not for nothing. suguru’s cock sprung free, it was slightly curved near his pink tip, drops of pre-cum flowing down the length. you haven’t ever seen a dick in real life, only ever on the internet, so this had left you stunned. you didn’t know what the average size was for a man, but there’s one thing you knew for sure: suguru was definitely way above the average size.

“cat got your tongue, princess?” he teased, his hand absentmindedly pumping his cock to the sight of your naked body underneath him. suguru didn’t even know that he started doing that in front of you; it was out of pure instinct. he couldn’t hide the excitement in his body, his shaft twitching in his hand as if it desperately wanted to feel your tight cunt around it.

“uhm, s-suguru..” you stammer a bit, biting your lip as your eyes followed his hand motions which got faster once your sweet voice called out to him. something about you looking a tad bit intimidated by his size made him want to destroy your insides to mush—have you beg him to fuck you as he bullies his whole length into your poor, small cunt.

“i know, i know..” suguru reassures you, free hand giving you a few consoling head pats, “i’ll try to make it as less painful as possible, okay?”

you hum and watch how your lover settles between your legs, spreading them enough to kneel before you, upper body bending forward to place soft pecks on your forehead; he was encouraging and preparing you more in his own way.

your arms instantly wrapped around his back, sweaty palms set underneath his shoulder blades—you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, just waiting on that moment. that feeling you’ve been craving, yet also have been avoiding.

you waited for a bit, however the only sounds heard and sensations felt were the slight dent in the mattress near one side of your body, the bed creaking faintly. suguru was leaning on side of his body, one arm stretched out to open a drawer, apparently searching for a condom.

once you realised what he was doing, you shook your head and tapped his back twice to regain suguru’s attention. his gaze immediately flickered over to yours and his head tilted to the side in curiosity; “i want the full experience—no condom, please.”

his eyes widened at the request. you seemed to be dead serious, eyes glinting determinedly, lips forming a little pout— it was impossible to refuse you, although suguru knew that he had to play the role of the older, more wise and experienced lover in the back of his mind.

he parted his lips to list off the reasons why you should let him use a condom, yet the words died on his tongue. you were impossible to say ‘no’ to. not when you’re looking up at him with those pretty eyes.

“whatever princess wants, princess gets.”

suguru prodded your entrance with the fat head of his cock, circling the hole and wetting it more by using a mixture of his pre-cum and your own arousal. you took another deep breath and tried your best to hold tightly onto your boyfriend, arms wrapped tightly around his back with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck—bracing for impact.

“tell me if it hurts too much,” suguru whispers in your ear, leaving one last kiss on your temples before pushing his hips forward, folds stretching out and apart to allow his cock through and into your pussy.

did it hurt like you expected? yes. it most certainly did. maybe even worse than you were prepared for.

“fuck— nhhh, fuckfuckfuck!” you hiss whilst your nails dig into the skin of suguru’s back, probably leaving red marks because of how much you’re clinging onto him—like your life depened on it. that’s quite literally what it felt like to you; body being forced to part and make way for suguru inside you, pussy feeling like it was burning by how big of a stretch it was to fit him in—if he actually would be able to push all of his inches into your tight hole.

“sshh, shh, it’s okay, try to relax for me, yeah?” your lover comforts you the best he could, stilling his movements for a couple seconds before gently slipping his cock further into you. it pained him to see the discomfort written over your face, however you hadn’t made any clear signs of wanting this to come to a halt. in fact, you were encouraging him to continue whenever he stopped at any indication of hurt.

“i can take it.. p-promise,” you manage to moan out. suguru breathed in deeply at your words and nodded, kissing your lips in hopes to distract you from any pain you’re feeling, “you’re too good to me, sweetheart. really.”

both of you exhaled deeply as suguru finally bottomed out, a long minute of reassurance and pushing now behind your back. your eyes had watered up a little, chest heaving as you tried to accommodate to the new feeling inside of you.

“take your time.” suguru utters gently, voice sultry and sweet whenever its directed at you. his lips graze against your cheeks, smothering the area with pecks to take your mind off anything else. the locks of black hair tickle your chin and nose, the hairtie that usually kept a good chunk of his hair in a bun now out of sight.

suguru hadn’t taken anyone’s virginity before and that’s what also made this opportunity special to him. he didn’t know how to thank you with words, so he showed his gratitude throughout his actions; lips kissing your shiny tears away, moving across your face to your forehead and eventually to your own round lips which had formed a cute pout.

you could feel suguru smile against your mouth, his tongue gently tracing the outline of your lips whilst mumbling words of affection and praise; “you’re taking it so well, baby. such a good girl for me— love you so much.”

you giggled lightly at your lover’s appreciative remarks, focusing on returning the kiss instead of the tingling feeling in your lower body. you pulled away after a bit and looked up at him with nothing but pure adoration; “i love you too, suguru.”

if suguru had the ability to freeze time, he’d want to do it during this moment, just to relive this bit over and over. he’s sure that this exact instant will be engraved into his memory for the many years to come.

and once you’ve given him the green light to move, he did it with caution, slowly but surely. his hips moved back and then forwards, girthy cock dragging along your walls at a leisurely pace, but just enough to make your pain transform into pleasure.

suguru’s big hands were placed on your hips, sometimes they’d leave their position to cup your chin and make you face him. he doesn’t want you to look away from his eyes; he’ll think you don’t like this if you do. besides, the thing he loves most about being in the missionary position, is that he’s able to hear how good he’s making you feel whilst looking into your eyes to see your face scrunch up in satisfaction. it’s so romantic and perfect. just like you.

“my little princess is so pretty.” suguru sighs in content and kisses your tears away, thrusting into your tight cunt in a comfortable pace—not too fast but not too slow, “the way you take my cock and still manage to look beautiful while doing it— you’re incredible.”

if the physical pleasure wasn’t enough, his added commentary would certainly be. you moan and whimper phrases that sound like his name over and over again; you didn’t know what else to say as your mind was foggy with the amazing sensations your body was experiencing for the first time. that was fine with suguru since all he wants was to see you enjoy yourself—this moment was for you. everything he did was for you—every thrust, every kiss, every touch.

“nhhg, too good, so good!” you mewl and leave more scratch marks across suguru’s back, ones which he didn’t mind at all. it only served as further proof of this special moment. the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of your insides, puffy folds parted widely to make room for more of his length until it felt like he actually was balls deep.

“mhm—you’re, haah, tight..” the once calm and collected man seemed to let loose of himself the more he felt your cunt swallow him all the way, gripping onto his dick as if you didn’t want to ever let go. suguru grunts and moves down to leave a couple hickeys across your neck, hips non-stop pushing against yours, “don’t think i can last long—fuck, yeah—you feel amazing, baby.”

your eyes roll back as the pleasure seems to build up in your stomach as well. it felt like a coil that threatened to snap at any moment and it’d release another immense wave of pleasure upon breaking. your body was on fire, sweaty and hot, just like suguru’s.

“can you cum with me, princess? can you wait and hold on for me?” he asks, and the questions sound impossible, however you could at least try your best to fulfil his desires. you’d also want nothing more than to reach your peak together with the man you loved.

“okay—mmhh—together.” you nod and your body tenses up, legs subconsciously moving to wrap around suguru’s waist, heels of your feet simultaneously tapping against his lower back along with his hip movements. you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out for as your breathing patterns changes, whiney gasps and choked up moans escaping the back of your throat as your clit bumps against his pelvis over and over.

“almost, almost—“ suguru curses through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching while yours did the opposite. your body rocked back and forth and the bed felt like it was shaking along as well. you could tell by the way suguru’s hips rolled against yours that he was close—his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes half-lidded but not closed to still hold contact with yours and his hands clutched onto your waist. all indications of his nearing climax.

“mnph, gonna cum— shit, shit, shit, i’m gonna cum—“ suguru swears under his breath a couple times more before snapping back into reality at the last few seconds. he realised once again that he didn’t have a condom on, so his first rational thought was to pull out and finish himself outside of your body.

you were also nearing your own orgasm, not thinking rationally due to the intensity of the moment, any other thoughts except for the man on top of you were thrown out of the window. you felt suguru try to pull his twitching and throbbing cock out before it could spurt its cum inside of your dripping cunt.

you whined and shook your head, pulling suguru in for a deep kiss while tightening the grasp your legs had around his hips; “w-want to feel you cum in me— want you to fill me up while i finish too.”

suguru’s breath caught in his throat, almost choking on his own saliva from your bold requests. his only rational thought instantly vanished from his mind, now all that’s left was pure love, pleasure and desire. the mental image of his cum spilling and filling your pussy to the brim drove him to the edge.

“all yours, i’m going to give it all to you, princess, yeah? fuck !” both of you relinquished in the feeling of bliss, the warmth and build up reaching its designated ending— the expected waves of pleasure washing over you both. series of soft moans, whimpers and groans filled the room as your pussy was flooded with lots of hot cum.

it was like suguru hadn’t came in years—that’s how incredible that orgasm was experienced by the dark-haired male. the same thing goes for you; your legs were shaking, hips squirming up in aftershocks as you squeezed down on suguru’s cock, quite literally milking him dry of every drop.

“nhh, haah— suguru, love,” your tired and powerless whispers caught his attention immediately. your trembling hand held onto his cheek in attempt to make him look at you. suguru’s fingers curled around your wrist, turning your hand away from his face and to the side so he’ll have access to your palm. his lips left a ticklish trail of pecks on them until his mouth found its home: your lips.

the two of you exchanged deep, exhausted breaths, your boyfriend eventually pulling out and rolling onto his side to cradle you into his arms—hand placed on the back of your head to rest your body against his chest. the following seconds were spent cuddling as you tried to regain composure.

“you were amazing.” suguru sighs, chin resting on top of your head whilst his hand rubbed your bare back in comfort, “are you okay, sweetheart? nothing feeling off or anything of that sorts?”

you shake your head and snuggle up against your lover, content with how things are right now. the afterglow of your little session—of your first time, made you happier than ever. you couldn’t believe it’d feel this good. maybe it’s due to the one you’ve lost your virginity to.

“i’m okay.” you mumble and lift your head up to look suguru in the eyes, faces only inches away from each other. there were no words in the dictionary that could describe how you two felt. the closest word to explain it would be flawless.

“i’m glad, baby. thank you for trusting me.” suguru flashes you a small smile and strokes your head. you stay like that, bodies intertwined in a deep and comfortable hug, whispers of sweet nothings filling your ears and subtle gestures of love making you feel secure.

a couple minutes later and suguru noticed how you started to doze off. he chuckled to himself before pulling away from your hug and standing up, only to have you pout and complain about the loss of warmth.

“i’m just going to clean you up, love.” the soft-spoken man utters to you, laughing quietly at the adorable state you were in at the moment. you were so dependent on him.

“should i prepare us a warm, relaxing bubble bath as well?” he asks, squatting down near the edge of his bed and taking your hands in his, maintaining eye contact as per usual.

“that’d be nice.” you nod and feel your eyelids close slowly, “can’t promise i won’t fall asleep, though.”

suguru lets out a soft exhale through his nose, corner of his lips curling upwards at your little comment. he couldn’t believe he ended up dating such an unbelievably wonderful girl. it’s a blessing in his life of curses.

“i’ll make sure to at least clean you up if you do fall asleep, don’t worry. you’re safe with me.”

you were sure he was an angel sent down from heaven. it was more than clear to you—even if it may not be to many others out there.

“thank you, suguru.” you murmur as your body relaxes into the soft mattress, “i love you.”

“i love you too. more than you could imagine.”

[81folklore]

heaven - PIASTRI - final part

pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams + pinterest)

summary: on the 2 year anniversary of oscars first win in f1, everyone’s favorite couple has a surprise

type: social media au (smau)

note: well this is it!! the final part to heaven!! this ending has always been the plan and im so pleased i can finally post it, this win has been a longgg time coming and i am super stoked for oscar!!! obviously not the best race (esp for mclaren fans) but we got through it and oscar won!!!! super duper proud of my mclaren boys and i cant wait to see many more 1-2 with them!!

i honestly cant believe this is the last part to this series, this was one of the first fics i ever posted and its crazy how far its come!! to this day i get notifs that people have found the first part to this series and it blows my mind how big this has gotten. i know ive been inactive for a long time but i hope by finally finishing this fic i will find love for creating fics again!!!! love u all🩵

heaven masterlist masterlist

set 2026

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 11,629 others

two years ago my best friend asked me to marry him, i said yes immediately. how could i say no to spending the rest of my life with someone i love so deeply?

today marks 6 months of him being my husband and i feel so incredibly blessed to be able to call him that, to be able to say that someone i love, loves me back just as much

but today is also the anniversary of my boys first win, which seems crazy now that he has many more under his belt but its true, its been two years since that crazy day in hungary and one that changed us forever

i have grown so much in the time we have been together and im so pleased i was able to do it with you, osc. i love you forever and always!

tagged oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri my favorite forever🤍

oscarpiastri marrying you was the best decision i have ever made

youruser my boy🌟🌟

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri

liked by youruser, logansargeant and 1,382,003 others

i cant believe i get to call this gorgeous girl my wife, and i’ll be able to do so for the rest of our lives

you had never shone as brightly as on our wedding day, however youve continued to shine ever so bright since and i hope it never goes away, seeing you happy and content makes me feel like the luckiest man alive

thank you for saying yes all those years ago and thank you for trusting me with your heart, ill love you forever and always

your osc x

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youruser i love you so much osc

youruser you mean the world to me

landonorris congrats mate x

logansargeant i miss you guys :(

youruser we miss you too logie!!! we’ll be home soon and we will take you to dinner!!

logansargeant oscarpiastri promise?

oscarpiastri we promise

georgerussell63 happy for you both!

frederikvestiofficial come back soon i think logans withering away

oscarpiastri he’ll be fine for a few more days🙄

logansargeant nu huh!! i cant last much longer☹️

user66 oh my god she looks gorgeous 🥹🥹

oscarpiastri she is

user72 YOUR OSC😭😭😭😭

user6 im never getting over them☹️

user91 THEYRE MARRIED☹️☹️😭😭

user10 remember when yn said they werent getting married yet because they still had so much growing to do,, look at them now☹️

user47 i feel like everyones being too calm, WE DIDNT EVEN KNOW THEY WERE ENGAGED?!?!!?!

user64 LIKE WHY ARE WE NOT MORE SHOCKED

user22 bcs they are written in the stars and we all knew this was going to happen!!! liked by youruser

user30 yn with all the little babes oh i cant do this🥹🥹 liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri

liked by youruser, lewishamilton and 1,392,027 others

17.01.2026

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lewishamilton so happy for you mate, it was a gorgeous ceremony💜

logansargeant my favorite people in the whole world

oscarpiastri we love you

logansargeant 🥹🥹 (i love you guys too)

youruser my boy forever and ever and ever

oscarpiastri 🤍🤍

landonorris you guysss😕😕

youruser love you lan!!!!

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, yourmum 11,483 others

a story told in many parts💐

comments on this post have been limited

pinned youruser to osc, my best friend, my love, my husband i will love you until the end of time. i will hold your hand through everything and more, until death do us part x

youruser added to their story

story song added heaven by niall horan text reads: my 🏠

seen by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 12,472 others

replies

user72 OH MY FUCKING GODDDDD

user19 I CANNOT DEAL WITH YOU TWO 😔😔😔😔

user63 ur literally perfect for eachother wtfwtfwtf

user90 I FEEL SICK THIS IS SO CUTE

user6 oscar is so sweet🥹🥹

youruser the sweetest!!!!

[star2fishmeg]

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴡʀᴀᴘs

[4.4k] Pairing | bsf!Luke Hughes x bsf!afab!reader Summary | luke and y/n are tired of feeling left behind and help each other out…but in the company of their friends. but it makes a good story, right? Warnings | 18+ smut, kinda slow start, best friends to lovers, long haired luke!!! Bc I love long hair, umich!luke, (basically public) fingering, swearing, appearance and sex insecurities, tiny bit of angst but not really, mutual pining, making out Authors Note | im in such a luke brainrot it’s painful, this was supposed to be a blurb but I can’t control myself but anyway, this is my first hockey fic i hope its alright. Based on this after hours post! This is a work of fiction, please remember that my dudes

Luke felt like a creep. But she looked so at peace sitting on the lake's docks, feet dangling and toes skimming the water's surface. While she was nothing but a silhouette in the distance, the sunset cascading on the horizon complimenting her like a portrait in a museum. He also wasn’t sure on how long he’d been standing at the sliding patio doors, the UMich boy’s voices blended out into a white noise while his mind wandered to crevices of thoughts he’d been avoiding for months, but anything to escape Ethan and Luca’s conversations about girlfriend stories. Yes, he was happy for them, found it cute in fact, but when was it his turn to have that chapter in his life? He could have it if he didn’t panic and fumble at every party they threw, just a bit more alcohol and maybe he’d have a chance but like all victims of tragedy, no one would ever be her. Could ever replace her or even substitute her. So, while his curls bounced in the gentle breeze, Luke Hughes admired the only girl in the University of Michigan that’s ever made his heart ache and contort in bittersweet ways.

With a firm slap to his back, Luke’s daydream snapped back to reality, to Dylan Duke grinning and wiggling his eyebrows. The most painful thing Dylan had to endure since he met Luke was watching his friend follow y/n like a lost puppy begging for attention, and there was nothing more he wanted than for the two to just kiss already. They almost did, once, at someone’s birthday party when they both nursed a bottle of tequila. But Dylan never told them that, he wasn’t entirely sure if he dreamt it, if he was honest.

“Just go talk to her, be honest,” Dylan said with a light chuckle, nudging Luke towards the porch steps.

Luke’s legs stopped stiff, and spun to face Dylan in protest, “No! What do I even say? ‘Oh, hey y/n I know we’ve been friends for a while, but I’m in love with you haha hope this doesn’t make it awkward’? Like, come on.” With the way Dylan’s grin turned almost menacing, Luke felt his heart almost stop, his stupidity catching up with him, “This stays between us, Duker.”

He groaned and watched Dylan giggle his way back inside. Wingman or menace? Fine line, but at least he was better than Jack. Who quite literally tried trapping him and y/n in a closet when he found out, hoping for the best. Perhaps Dylan would actually help him get somewhere, he’d spent many parties coaxing Luke into making a move but Luke being the humble soul he took pride in, let her have her peace. Oh, how much he regretted it every time he heard her laugh because of another guy.

Thankfully the docks were at the far end of his garden, out of earshot and almost out of sight, if you weren’t spying. He stood silently, just taking in her very existence alone. If she weren’t wearing his hoodie so proudly, he would’ve sat down by now but the heat that flushed into his cheeks prominently just had to ease before he could show his face. Maybe she’d find it cute that his face flushed so easily, or maybe she’d think he was a fool for thinking he had a chance. Girls were hard to read, so many codes and hints, he couldn’t keep up with them all and God forbid you had an ugly code name. Watching her like that did raise the thought, what was his code name? Did he really want to know?

“I can feel you starin’,” her voice chimed, their eyes meeting as she craned her neck, “you gonna join or just stand?”

Luke’s lips pulled into his famous half-smirk, “I like lookin’ at pretty things, can you blame a man?” He sat next to her, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder like they usually did, the weight of his boldness lifting off his chest. “What’s runnin’ through that mind of yours?”

“Who said I was thinking about anything? Maybe I was finally catching a break from the zoo. Maybe I was thinking that you need a haircut.” Her laugh was like music to his ears, her voice his favourite song and every word that rolled off her tongue felt like ecstasy surging through him and freezing the world around them.

Spending a summer in a lake house was the only way y/n ever wanted to live. An oasis of serenity and laughs, endless memories, and an escape. But while she dipped her toes in the water, watching her reflection ripple, the everlasting thought that it was fleeting crawled its way back to the surface whether she wanted it to or not. The boys had been doing this longer than she had, it was her first time at the lake house and possibly her last. But there was nothing wrong with enjoying it while it lasted, being trapped under the same roof as the boys wasn’t as bad as she’d assumed. Except for the smells, they were straight-up disrespectful. Would she still love it as much if she was with other friends? Hard to say, if Luke was there, everything would be fine. Maybe a couple more girls would’ve been nice too, though.

“Please, you’re staring blankly, don’t try me.” Luke scoffed playfully, shoulder gently nudging hers as she rolled her eyes, unable to resist a gleaming smile. As much as she wanted to rebuttal, he was right. They’d met on the first week of university, Luke starting hockey practice and y/n starting as their new social girl and since then the pair of them had been two peas in a pod. Completely enamoured with each other, attached at the hip, where Luke went, he’d bring y/n, his person.  “Wait, you think I need a haircut? Is it that bad?”

She laughed, Luke, stooping so she could thread her fingers through his unruly curls gently, something only she was allowed to do, “Nah, I like your hair long, cut it and I’ll cut you.” They pulled back, sitting in their original postures and watched the sun’s pinks fade to oranges, “I was thinking about how many girls you’ve brought here.”

He blinked twice, turning his head slowly to face her and to his surprise his eyes met hers. There was a gloss to them, illuminated brightly by the sunset but like glass as if she were about to break. Heart beating in his ears, he licked his lips, almost quivering when he began to speak.

“Just you.” His voice just above a whisper, husky, “Only you. Always you.” Their gazes lingered, and his eyes fluttered to her lips for just a split second before he found himself licking his lips again, feeling his throat dry at the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. His heart ached, he didn’t have half the guts the Fantilli brothers did, if he had then maybe he would’ve at least wrapped his arm around her. Instead, he sat like he was paralysed, just shoulder to shoulder as she rubbed her bare foot against his leg, their skins touching, lighting little fires up his body and his stomach gaining a warmth he’d only felt in the after-hours of his bedroom.

“Lu?” she rested her head on his shoulder, staring back out towards the horizon, “Do you ever feel like you’re so far behind the people around you? Like you’re missing out.”

Luke leaned his head against hers, almost nuzzling into it as he thought. It was a heavy question, one that’d been weighing on her for a while. Or he assumed, considering she’d never openly asked the group. That’s what made him feel special. Her feet hung still, ending their teasing game and just fell limp. He exhaled, could he let his pride go and agree? Or could he completely one-up himself and disagree, which made him braver? He loathed the storms she started in him, thoughts he never imagined he would think in his hockey brain. One girl could change his entire train of thought, change his heartbeat, change his mood. One woman he pined like a lost puppy over.

“Sometimes. What do you mean?”

“Like, all my friends have these insane hook-ups and embarrassing sex stories and I have nothing. Yeah, I’ve had boyfriends before, but I was younger and stupid then. I go out with my friends and I’m basically invisible to any guy who approaches us, just feel unlovable. And now here I am, twenty years old and a fucking virgin with little experience and no wild stories.” She vented, barely taking a breath as the words spilt from her mouth. Luke’s chest twisted, his face softening when she snuggled into his side. “I don’t know where I’m going wrong, Lu.”

He paused and bit his lip when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her body into his chest. She melted into his touch, getting a whiff of his woody, amber cologne, her favourite one at that, the one he always wore. She’d never had the chance to properly relish in his touch, was his chest always this firm? Arms always bring this much security? Fuck, when did his hand get so sexy when on her body, gliding down her arm to nestle in the curve of her waist. With her ear pressed to him, the thundering in his chest surrendered his cover entirely. Cool and collected Luke Hughes was secretly a bumbling mess.

“I get you.” he finally spoke, ears burning when her finger traced shapes on his thigh, “My entire life has been hockey, so not a lot of space for experiences either. Not enough time for relationships between practice and games, development camps and time with family. A lot of the girls who liked me didn’t really like that. That or they liked my brothers and friends more, they are a lot more attractive than me, so I don’t blame them. M’just average.”

Y/n pulled away almost instantly, her eyebrows knitted and jaw agape. For a moment she thought she heard him wrong, ‘a lot more attractive than me’, ‘just average’? Delving into Luke’s psyche turned out to be an entirely different road trip than she had thought, heartstrings tugged as her lips fell to a frown. Who in the world made him feel like that? Who did she need to hunt down? But then again, Luke’s blood boiled hearing how insignificant she felt and who exactly made her think that to start with?

“Luke Hughes you are not average! You’re the hottest guy I know!” she yelped, the hand that drew gentle patterns now clutching his thigh tight. Luke gulped but didn’t retract away from the noise. His brain was too busy short-circuiting over the fact her fingers were dangerously close to his crotch, doing his best to contain himself with slow breaths, “They just didn’t give you a chance, if they really knew you, they’d be heads over heels. You’re so fucking smart, and passionate. And-and if they saw you smile for real, not a half-smile, your full smile with your teeth, the one that feels like a warm summer’s day. It’s their loss, they’ll never know how sweet you are, that after a bad game, you want steak and head scratches, that you’re sentimental as fuck- like you wear that Yankees hat because Quinn got it for you when you fell ill and couldn’t make the game. You’re not average.”

Luke blinked, once, twice and thrice as her eyes bored into his, glazed with fire as the words tumbled from her mouth and circled his head. He watched the way her body rose and fell as she caught her breath, the grip on his thigh tightening and heat rising through his body. He felt the sweat building on the back of his neck, his collar suddenly becoming too tight. She thought he was hot? She remembered such little details about him like they’d known each other since they were kids. The hand around her waist slid to her lower back, his thumb rubbing the fabric of her (his) hoodie unconsciously.

He smiled, his warm smile she mentioned, where his eyes wrinkled and his chin tilted up triumphantly, “The hottest guy you know, huh?”

Y/n’s face dropped. Never in her life had she experienced her heart stop the way it did hearing those words. She stared like a deer in headlights, she slipped up and the heat rushing to her cheeks burned. This is what happens when you let your feelings take over, you make a fool of yourself in front of the one person who would never want to. She sighed, hung her head and hid her face in her hands, the butterflies in her stomach choking her when Luke let out a saccharine chuckle that made all the flowers bloom.

Large, warm hands wrapped around her wrists with a feather touch, and slowly pulled her hands away from her face and into her lap, soothing her nerves with a gentle rubbing of her knuckles with his thumbs. Although his hands felt clammy, the tingling in his stomach became too addicting to care about it too much anymore.

“Don’t hide,” she was radiant under what was left of the tangerine hues, eyes almost sparkling, “let me see that pretty face.”

She hesitantly raised her head, eyes meeting his and her body relaxed. She had no idea why she was so embarrassed, he hadn’t gagged, laughed in her face nor had he physically repulsed. Instead, he looked at her like she’d hung out the stars for him, wide eyes with rose-tinted ears.

“I think you’re very pretty too. Beautiful even, I-“ he hesitated, “you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about kissing you, asking you out. Honestly, the idea of you rejecting me is terrifying so I never did, plus, I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

Her eyes fluttered to his lips, the world around them falling silent until it was just them in their own bubble. Luke gulped, his eyeline following the way she flickered between his eyes and his mouth before he found their bodies leaning into one another, noses ghosting. His hands released her wrists, one arm snaking around her waist sending an electric tingle through her veins and holding her firmly close. They’d been this close before, sure. Multiple occasions of having his arms around the back of the sofa they sat snug on, arm hooked around her shoulders because some guy couldn’t get the memo at bars, in fact, the root cause of their problem was undeniably because everyone assumed they were together except them.

Y/n’s palm held his cheek tenderly, the hot, carnal desire to devour the boy only being released from its cage when he melted into her touch as if he was opening his doors to vulnerability.

“I can teach you if you like,” she whispered, her thumb tracing across his bottom lip. Luke’s fingers gripped her waist as if she couldn’t be any closer than she already was, but he couldn’t risk letting her slip from his grasp again. He wanted to erase all those other guys who’d kissed her, he would be the last guy on Earth to taste the lips that words and giggles laced with a honey-like sweetness that cradled his heart.

“God, please-“  his heart beat twice as fast, y/n leaning in, closing the gap between them and pressing her lips gently to his. If he were to die right there, he’d die the happiest man alive. Her lips were soft and warm, igniting every firework inside of him and adrenaline shaking him back to life. He could do this for hours, drinking in her citrus fragrance, lips mimicking the way she moved hers against his. If she was a match, he was kerosene and he’d let her set him ablaze over and over if it meant he could feel like the only man in the world until the end of time.

They pulled away, eyes fluttering open to an exchange of giggly smiles. Despite it being a closed-mouth kiss, nothing extra, just soft and sweet, Luke’s thoughts raced at a million miles per hour. All the weight on his shoulders lifted and he nuzzled into her palm, placing a kiss on it.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, his puppy-like gaze almost distracting her from how his skin burned pink in her palm. But in a way, all her previous anxieties dissipated like dust in the wind, tummy flipping at the pathetically sweet and lovestruck expression spread on Luke’s face, “Your face is so red. Are you okay?-”

“-Can we do that again?” He pleaded, quickly, desperately, a certain yearning feeling on his lips that he couldn’t quite describe, except that he needed to taste her again. He needed more, so much more to quench his thirst, a kind of fuzziness he felt in his core.

“Uh- yeah, let me show you what a real kiss is.” No hesitation was needed, y/n’s hand slid from his cheek to the nape of his neck, fingers carding through his curls as she roughly connected their lips again, messier, teeth chattering from the impact. Luke’s other hand found comfort on her thighs, pulling them over his lap and giving gentle squeezes, moaning when y/n bit his lower lip. He opened his mouth with ease, failing to hold back another moan when her tongue lapped his. He wasn’t sure how to react, he’d never made out with anyone and it’s not like his brothers would’ve explained it well either. So, he repeated her movement, his tongue dancing with hers with saliva lubricating their lips each time they dove back in to devour each other. Y/n tugged his curls lightly, pulling him closer, savouring the kindling arousal leaking into her panties with the way he craved her.

Luke pulled away to breathe, his chest heavy but shorts becoming tight with the intense and fiery eye contact that screamed nothing but lust, “You,” he kissed her again, fervently, “taste,” another kiss, “amazing.” He mumbled into her lips and their tongues stirred again, whimpers drawing from the back of her throat when his hand travelled further up her thigh, under her shorts and found solace on the skin only he could touch. Any further and she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t pounce, her underwear was soaked through and sticking to her folds and even one measly brush on her clit would open the floodgates.

A foreign burst of confidence washed over him, and he detached their lips, a string of saliva between them and her hand still tugging at his curls and whether intentional or not, he discovered something carnal clawing away inside him. Wetting his lips, he dove into her neck, planting wet kisses along her column and nipping in the hope of hearing her mewl again. Y/n tilted her head to the side, giving him free rein over her skin and her jaw slacking, whining his name with her thighs clenching together for any kind of friction. As he began to run his hand along her thigh, his pocket vibrated continuously, earning a growl to rumble from his throat.

“Fuck, why’d you stop?” y/n whined, hand falling from his hair to his chest. Luke pulled his phone from his pocket with a disgruntled look, of course, his moment was ruined. Swiping the notification away, he clicked his tongue, sliding his phone back into his shorts.

His arms wrapped around her waist, and looked back into her adoring yet disappointed eyes, “Dylan wants to know if we’re joining them for a movie.”

“I’m quite happy staying here with you.”

“Who says we have to watch the whole movie?”

Silence hung over the living room, only the TV blaring and the light crunching of popcorn from different directions. The lights were off, just the TV and three boys crammed on one sofa, and three plus y/n on the other. Luke, y/n, Rutger and Adam on the sectional directly opposite the TV, Luke occupying the end with the chaise for his legs, and y/n sat between them and huddled under a blanket. Rutger sat in the middle with Adam on the furthest end. Dylan, Luca and Ethan huddled together on the sofa adjacent to the TV, popcorn littered between them from missing mouths and flinching.

Luke’s hands wrapped around her waist, keeping her snug against his chest while she slowly chewed Haribo’s, feeding them to him now and then. While his heart skipped beats, feeling like a meadow of tulips blooming in the Spring, y/n’s wiggling against his crotch lured all the heat and butterflies from earlier straight back to his stomach, sending it into twists and turns. Heat flushed to his neck when she pushed her arse back into him, in an innocent attempt to readjust. A deep exhale through his nose and his hands slithered to her thighs, fingers kneading the flesh like dough as his head dipped into her shoulder, breath hot on the skin and making her hairs stand on edge.

“Stop wigglin’, pretty girl,” he whispered into the shell of her ear, placing a kiss, “you’re drivin’ me crazy.”

She froze, body falling limp into his as he ran his hands under her hoodie, his stiffened cock poking into her backside as she caught on to what his problem was. The sex-deprived whore in her awakened with a jolt, his cock solid because of her, and there was nothing she wanted more than to feel him pressed up against her, unable to find his release and have the rasp of his voice reverberate through her being as her vibrator. 

“And if I don’t?” she whispered back, as close to him as possible without being heard. Instead of answering, Luke dipped his fingers down her shorts, middle finger brushing against her clothed clit. His eyes locked to the screen in front of him, resisting the urge to smirk when her breath hitched but continuing to glide his finger – in what was a lucky guess – over her bundle. She squirmed, clamping her thighs together, only to have them pried open by his free hand.

“Be a good girl and keep quiet, unless you want to be caught.” His playful tone sent chills down her spine, goosebumps swarming on her neck but melting into his touch. She plopped another sweet into her mouth, chewing intensely when Luke drew his long fingers away, only for her to feel them caress over her skin, cold on her warm body, and down her panties. To describe the sensation that zipped through her when the pad of his middle finger reunited with her clit would be the same shock if you were to be struck by lightning: sudden and sharp, rattling up the spine.

Y/n placed the bag of sweets in her lap, tucking both hands under the blanket with the hope of seeming less suspicious, but her hand skimmed down his arm and placed itself on his, slowly guiding his movements on her nub until he got the idea. Firm yet gentle circular movements, the slick seeping from her warm on his fingertips, so inviting he wished he could have a taste. She pulled the blanket to her chin, not only to cover Luke’s sudden mood but to form some form of distraction from the fuzzy feeling rising to her head. No, she’d never had this before, so the experience itself embraced her tight, addicting like nicotine.

He kissed her temple, two fingers sliding into her cunt almost perfectly, too perfect that another Haribo was abused between her teeth as her breathing struggled to remain neutral. The moan that would’ve slipped past if she hadn’t been concentrating would’ve been embarrassing enough. Luke began languid plunges into her, relishing in the way her walls squeezed his fingers tight, keeping shallow at first. The more her pussy swallowed him in their wetness, the faster his mind spiralled in greed and his pace sped up, y/n’s nails digging deep into his leg, leaving crescent shapes on the skin. The heat pooling in her stomach was riveting, knowing she would finally have an insane story to tell even more so. No one could say that Luke Hughes’ tongue tasted theirs like it was the best meal he’d ever lapped up and that he’d watched a movie with his friends while pushing the limits of both his and their sanity publicly.

With a rush of adrenaline and her nails marking him, he buried his fingers deep into her cunt, driving swiftly and curling in places that made her wriggle against him, his free hand having to hold her hips still with a bruising grip and his cock begged for attention in his shorts. Y/n popped two more sweets in her mouth, relying on their gummy nature to suppress the moans that threatened to tear through her as the knot inside her came dangerously close to snapping with the way he bullied her pussy with his bare hands. His breathing fell deep and shuddered, his heart infatuated with the ecstasy of finger-fucking the woman of his dreams in front of an entire room of his friends hammered in his chest while his face struggled to stay indifferent and jaw tight like his cock isn't throbbing violently and straining against her arse. Like she wasn’t bucking her hips into his touch like he couldn’t tell that her heart was going haywire because of just him alone. If this was what foreplay was like, the idea of piledriving balls deep in her until she couldn’t remember her name was divine.

He dragged out his last pumps, the knot in her stomach snapping and coating his fingers in hot, sticky release, kissing her temple upon her body physically shuddering. Y/n pulled the blanket up to her chin as if she had shivered naturally, stuffing her mouth into the fluffy material. Luke pulled his fingers out, wiping the residue on his shorts, practically drooling over the image of milking her dry. His arms snaked around her waist, snuggling close. Y/n sighed, slumping back into him. On the outside Luke was his collected and cool self, his breathing stable and attention on the movie, the heat in his face and hands that rested on her stomach, soothing her heart rate screamed that he was the happiest guy in the room. With every gentle stroke of his thumb on the flesh of her stomach, her heart soothed and her eyelids became increasingly heavier.

"Was that story worthy?" He whispered, kissing her cheek sweetly.

Luke’s pocket buzzed and he tutted, carefully sliding it from his pocket and unlocking it, trying his best to prevent the screen from blinding everyone.

Duker idk if ur freaky or brave u dog

Luke closed his phone and looked up towards Dylan, who sat with a shit-eating grin. He smiled and shook his head, mouthing a subtle, ‘this stays between us’.

[Masterlist]

[Requests CLOSED]

2024 © STAR2FISHMEG All rights reserved - do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost any of my works. Please let me know if you notice that any of these have been done to my work.

Banners & dividers belong to @/cafekitsune

[tyinghershoe]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Unscented |

Shigaraki’s hands were as soft as Tenko allowed them to be.

Pairing: Shigarki/Tenko x Reader

Genre: fluff/oneshot/drabble

check out my masterlist!

You’d love to one day write parallels about Shigaraki’s hands.

How the fingers that wreaked havoc upon Japan once held you with the lightest touch. That, yes, they’ve caused pain and suffering - but at the same time, you’ve never felt anything softer.

They never said Tenko wasn’t human. 

Your first encounter with him was as expected. Shigaraki was always on guard, his eyes distant as they glanced you over. There was a moment of silence as this took place, the wooden floors creaking each time you shifted your feet, you wondered if this was the only thing he listened to as time passed (there was no room for conversation with just him and himself).

Rumors of the League were whispered in every alley you turned to, and while you never considered yourself a villain, the thought of being a perfect fit for society was just as incomprehensible. You noticed the flaking of Shigaraki’s palms and wondered if he would’ve ever fit that mold. (One day, when you’re both better acquainted, Tenko will help you shape your own).

“I wouldn’t call you a villain,” Tenko whispered to you one night, his voice barely audible over the creaking floorboards. The bar was still, with you two the exception, enclosed between the dim lighting from the lamps above. This was the closest you two have ever been, your fingers gently placing globs of lotion onto the webs of his hands. They weren’t as rough of a texture as you imagined, the skin feeling delicate beneath you. Perhaps it was the brand you bought this time.

Those eyes, once distant and wary, were now soft as they met yours. “You have yet to kill anyone,” he persisted, his tone somber and solaced. “And as far as I’m concerned, you still work a 9 to 5 job, just like the rest of the world.”

“I have yet to pay off a parking ticket.” You confessed, your voice filled with a type of guilt. The alcohol here was less than holy, yet the man in front of you offered acceptance, one that was devoid of judgment. There was a dumbfounded expression as he closed his eyes, allowing you to softly trace the irritation away as your thumbs gently soothed his flaking face - you wondered if this source of discomfort was physical or something more.

“I won’t sell you out.” He deadpanned, before turning to you with a menacing grin, “But seriously, I destroy everything around me. They call me a murderer and yet you’re still here. You’re still here.” Shigaraki grunted, his eyes turning dark and distant as if it were your first time meeting.

There was only a hum of acknowledgment as you finished aiding his inflammation. It’s times like these in which Shigaraki was unpredictable, but you were only ever worried for his sake. Tenko was always an impulsive man. “I’ve never felt safer,” you murmured, rewarding you with a scoff of disbelief. 

“You’ll regret saying that if you ever turn to dust.” He mumbled, the threat empty. His (now soft) hand wrapped around your wrist, yet they held no real malice - you made it a point to ignore the fact that his pinky has always been raised.

-

a/n: How many months has is been since I last posted a fic? My age is showing in the sense that it’s hard for me to sit down and write all the time, but the mha hyper fixation is back, so hopefully the desire to write comes with it! This is my first time writing anything that isn’t Izuku Midoriya, I’m trying to branch out of characters that I’m comfortable with, but I promise I’ll post more of him soon.

Thank you for reading!

Follow me on ao3 @tyinghershoe

[pulisicsgirl]

in my hour of need - mason mount

summary: eight months after the end of their relationship, Y/N and Mason find themselves at the same event—a charity gala—and the night’s events leave them both unsure of where they stand with each other

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 8.4k

warnings/tags: inappropriate joke is made about the reader, angst, self-doubt, exes-to-lovers, hurt/comfort (hee hee hee), ends with fluff of course don’t worry, lots of crying involved along the way

requested: no

based off of this concept from @mountttmase and @saltyheartnightmare

A/N: I’m so excited to finally have a fic ready to post for y’all again!!! I’ve literally been working on this one for the last three months, so it’s definitely a relief to put it out there! This is set during the TFSL gala that Mason attended back at the beginning of March, so some things might be a bit”outdated” by now… I hope yall enjoy!!!

Seeing Mason tonight had been more difficult than you had anticipated.

Eight months had passed since the fairly amicable breakup between the two of you. Things had ended on fairly good terms, but it had been the little things that built up that had led to the end of your relationship. Between Mason’s injury along with the situation at United and new, huge career opportunities that had arisen for you in the last year, the two of you seemed to be in completely different places in your lives. It seemed like you barely saw each other for a few minutes after you woke up in the morning and a few minutes before you fell asleep at night.

In the end, the disconnect was too much, and the two of you agreed to end things before they could get ugly.

You were thankful to have avoided the period of fighting and bickering that you knew would inevitably come with the track that you and Mason were on. Your relationship with him had many fond memories attached to it, and you didn’t want to see those tainted by a messy breakup. But every day that passed, you missed waking up in his bed, being by his side, spending time with him— all of it.

The two of you had tried your best to remain friends, truly. You had texted back and forth a bit, doing your best to keep up with each other’s lives and keep each other updated. You met for coffee about three weeks after the split, but after that your communication had quickly fallen off. You wondered if, like you, Mason had realized that trying to maintain a friendship had grown too painful. If, like you, it was killing him to have you sitting across from him and not be able to hold you, to kiss you, to call you his.

But there was no way for you to know— the two of you hadn’t spoken since.

It hadn’t come as a surprise that he was making an appearance at the charity gala. After all, it was him that had connected you with Together For Short Lives, the organization that Mason had a long-standing relationship with and also the organization benefitting from tonight’s events. Mason’s passion for the charity and its work had sparked something within you, and you had quickly pulled some strings to get your workplace involved with it as well— all of this while you were still together.

So when your boss told you about his contribution to the charity gala and has asked you to be the representative for the business at the auction itself, you knew that seeing Mason would be inevitable.

But it’s been eight months since the split—seven since you last saw him. Surely, you’d be fine by now, you had thought.

Unfortunately, you had thought wrong.

The first glimpse of him in the sleek black suit had sent a sharp pang through your chest, a wave of emotions crashing over you. His hair and beard were neatly trimmed and the softness of it immediately made you think of how it felt when you would run your fingers through it, or the scratch of his beard when you would cradle his jaw in your palm. His shoulders seemed to have grown broader, if that was even possible. His eyes looked brighter, and he seemed far more well-rested than you had seen him in the months leading up to your breakup.

And then the terrifying thought had hit you.

Maybe he was better off without you.

Maybe the breakup had been good for him. Maybe you had been the thing draining him in the last months of your relationship.

You felt the tears spring to your eyes as soon as the thought crossed your mind, blinking them away quickly.

But the thought continued to plague you as the night went on. There were a thousand things that were making you feel unsure of yourself and the thought that your relationship with Mason had actually been detrimental to him was just the cherry on top.

This just wasn’t the kind of event you usually found yourself at, even less a setting that you felt comfortable in. You would much prefer a quite night in or the opportunity to fade into the background. When you had been with Mason, you found yourself at a few events like this one, but you always had him at your side. Often you would allow him to navigate the evening for you, so you didn’t even have to think about anything. Tonight, instead of standing next to you so you cold hold tightly onto his arm when you felt unsteady, he was 100 feet away, engaged in conversation with someone else.

To make matters worse, you had asked a friend of yours to help you find and choose a dress for the evening, and she had insisted you would look and feel great in this elegant, low-cut, dark green dress that had an open back. At the time, she had convinced you that the piece complimented your figure and would make you feel confident and sexy. However, it was completely out of your comfort zone, and you regretted your decision to listen to her as you tugged on parts of the dress to try to cover yourself up more throughout the night.

Between the unfamiliar environment, the dress, and Mason’s presence, everything left you feeling quite unsure of yourself.

When you reached your seating assignment, you were relieved to see that you were familiar with a few of the individuals that were sitting at your table—acquaintances that worked for the same company as you who, no doubt, were also sent as representatives for the charity gala. The relief was short-lived, however, when you realized that, directly in front of you, a mere two tables over, Mason’s seat was directly in your line of sight.

You did your best to sink into the shadows, allowing conversation to flow around you without making any contribution, unless someone directly asked you a question. You also tried your hardest not to look over at Mason— this sight of him happily engaging in conversation, seemingly unaffected by your presence, was too much for your heart to handle.

A wave of relief washed over you when someone got up on the stage, removing any pressure to engage in conversation at the table as everyone turned their attention to the announcer. He spoke a bit about Together for Short Lives and the work that they did, soon announcing that it was time for the items to be auctioned off.

Some of the auction items piqued your interest, seeming like items or experiences that you thought you might enjoy. But any sort of intrigue faded when you heard the amounts of money that some of the gala’s patrons were volunteering for them, quickly realizing you were way out of your depth in this room of people.

Before too long, the announcer introduced a “Manchester United Experience,” involving a tour of the team’s facility, accompanied by the team’s star boy himself. Mason approached the stage, walking up the short flight of stairs as applause rang throughout the room. You didn’t hear much of the discussion of the experience as you got caught up in watching Mason and the playful way he interacted with the announcer and the crowd. His silly boyishness sent a pang through your heart, missing the playful way he used to interact with you.

You could’ve sworn his eyes caught yours as they swept the room, and you flashed him a short, forced smile as a sort of sign of goodwill. You weren’t exactly sure where the two of you stood, but you wanted to show him that you didn’t harbor any negative feelings toward him, despite the loss of contact.

The faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips before he turned his attention back to the announcer who had just asked him a question— one that Mason had to ask him to repeat.

Soon Mason was leaving the stage, having earned an ungodly amount of money for TFSL with his promised tour of Old Trafford.

A sick feeling settled in your gut, knowing it couldn’t be much longer before your company’s contribution was auctioned off. The mere thought of stepping onto that stage sent a rush of fear through your veins.

Before you knew it, you found yourself standing to the side of the stage, awaiting your queue to join the announcer on it. Your palms felt sweaty, your heart racing as you tried your best to compose yourself. Applause rang through the room, and you put all of your focus into not tripping as you walked up the stairs.

The room felt ten times bigger from atop the stage, filled with many more people than you had realized were in attendance. You tried to focus on smiling and nodding at the appropriate moments as the announcer explained what your company was auctioning off.

“And of course, we’re very appreciative of Miss… uhm…”

“Y/L/N,” you spoke quietly as the announcer trailed off.

“Yes, we’re very appreciative of Miss Y/L/N being here with us tonight,” the announcer resumed his charismatic personality after it had faltered briefly. “She’s certainly doing her part to raise money for a good cause. I mean, with this much skin on show, that has to be worth a few extra pounds on your bid, right?”

Your stomach sank to your feet as laughter erupted in the large room. You felt the heat in your cheeks, your smile faltering at his words. You suddenly felt ten times more self-conscious of yourself as you stood on the stage, feeling like a zoo animal being laid bare and displayed for everyone’s entertainment.

“With that, we’re going to start the bidding off at…” The announcers voice faded as the room felt like it was closing in on you. Your eyes flicked through the crowd, jumping from face to face until you found the one you were looking for— Mason.

While everyone else seemed to still be composing themselves from the eruption of laughter at the joke the announcer had made at your expense, Mason’s eyes met yours with the saddest expression you though you had ever seen. You could just barely make out his lips mouthing the words it’s okay, you’re okay, before your misty eyes could no longer make out his face.

You composed yourself just long enough for the announcer to finish off the auction, and you offered him a forced smile before you rushed off of the stage.

All you knew was that you needed to be anywhere but this room. You needed to get out, away from all of the people who had just witnessed your very public humiliation.

You made a beeline toward the back of the large hall that everyone was seated in, spotting the double doors that you knew led out to the hallway. Your heels click on the floor as you push through the doors and find the exit out to the decorative garden off of the side of the building being used for the gala. Thinking a bit of fresh air would do you good, you rushed outside, ignoring the chill that rushed through you as the cold air met your skin. Moving quickly away from the building, you ducked behind some hedges in the hope that no one would see you.

Your breathing was heavy as you tried your best to dampen the emotions welling up inside of you. Your throat felt tight as you fought back the tears of embarrassment, frustration, and regret. Forcing yourself to breath slowly, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you did your best to wipe gently at the corners of your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t ruin the makeup you had done only a few hours before.

“Y/N?” you heard a voice call from around the corner. Your heart sank as you recognized the gentle tone and the footsteps let you know that he was close. This was surely not the circumstances you had hoped to be in when you spoke to him for the first time in months.

You turned your back just in time for Mason to round the corner and find you hiding away in your little nook. There was nothing you hated more than the idea of letting him see you cry in this moment.

“Y/N, love-“

“I’m fine, Mason.” Your voice came out harsher than you had meant for it to. “Really, I’m okay. Just go back to the auction.”

Undeterred by the way you had spoken, Mason took a couple of steps closer to you. “No, you’re not, Y/N. I know you better than that.”

You couldn’t respond, and you knew he hadn’t missed the small sniffle you had let out as you bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

It was only a moment before you felt his fingers gently take hold of your arm, turning you to face him. Your head was bowed low, still unwilling to let him see your misty eyes.

“C’mere, love,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you in for a tight hug. You couldn’t keep yourself from returning the gesture, your arms wrapped under his as you pressed your palms into his broad back to hold him close. You tucked your face into his neck and suddenly, your heart felt more settled than it had in months.

“He had no right to say anything like that— about you or about anyone,” Mason mumbled into your hair, pressing a barely-there kiss to your temple. “It was completely inappropriate, and you have every right to feel upset. I’m so sorry.”

He brought a hand up to cradle the back of your head, holding you closer to him. You didn’t fight it at all, settling into him more and taking comfort in the proximity.

When he could tell that your breathing had steadied, Mason pulled back, still holding you with one arm as he looked down at you with a soft smile.

“There she is.” He brought his free hand up, brushing his thumb gently under your eyes to wipe away a tear that had fallen. The gesture was so gentle and intimate that you felt like your knees were about to give out, thankful that he still had one arm around you to steady you. “Whatever waterproof makeup you’re using is working because you still look perfect,” he joked, warmth flooding through him at the soft giggle you let out before dropping your forehead onto his chest.

“For the record, your dress is beautiful,” Mason said softly. You knew he must have sensed your discomfort with how much skin you had on show, even before the gala announcer had made any comment about it. “And, in the least creepy, predatory way possible, you look amazing tonight.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, wanting to convey your gratitude to him while trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words. The one thing you did like about the mostly open back of the dress is that you could feel Mason’s palm flattened directly against your skin as he held you close, his thumb rubbing back and forth in soothing motions. This, combined with the look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place as he looked down at you, made your skin feel like it was on fire, the heat rising up your neck and into your cheeks.

You brought your hands to his chest, holding the lapels of his jacket in your hand before you spoke quietly. “We should go back inside before anyone realizes we’ve gone.” You felt suddenly overwhelmed by the interaction with him, feeling yourself falling back into old habits without even intending to.

Mason unwound his hands from your waist, seeming a bit discouraged by your comment as he merely nodded, holding his arm out for you to take. You did so, holding onto his elbow to keep yourself steady as he led you back inside.

It was quiet between the two of you, neither sure what to say to the other after the intimate moment in the garden. Once back inside you squeezed his elbow gently, saying, “I’m gonna go freshen up really quickly, but I’ll see you back out there,” with a gentle smile. Mason nodded, letting you step away from him and into the bathroom.

In truth, while you did feel a need to freshen up a bit after the tears you had shed outside, you needed a moment to collect yourself— not because of the auction announcer’s comments, but because of Mason.

You stood at the small sink in the ladies’ room, watching yourself in the mirror as you tried to stop the way your head seemed to be spinning. The last time you had seen Mason was seven months ago, engaged in stiff conversation because neither of you knew how to speak to each other after the breakup. But now, he had come to your rescue without a second thought and held you as if the breakup had never even happened.

And it felt right…

You shook your head, telling yourself not to read too much into it— Mason is a caring person and just because he ran to your side when someone had said something hurtful about you doesn’t mean he wants you back. You were self-aware enough to recognize that you had a tendency to let your thoughts run away with you, and you did your best to shut it down before it got out of hand.

At the same time, Mason’s mind was also running wild. His brain felt as if it was under some sort of fog, intoxicated by the feeling of being able to touch your skin again. He was like an addict who had quit, cold turkey, some months ago, and the first taste of your proximity had nearly done him in. He couldn’t stop thinking of how it felt to be so close to you again— to feel your weight against his body, to smell your shampoo that was still the same, to hear your soft voice, muffled by his own neck, your gentle breaths fanning over his skin.

He was worried that maybe he had been too forward— maybe you hadn’t wanted him to run after you. He didn’t want you to think he felt like he needed to rescue you from every poor situation, but after hearing the announcer’s comments and seeing the way it had so clearly upset you (even though everyone else seemed to have overlooked it), he knew he couldn’t just let you be on your own.

He been wary of overwhelming you, but it felt right to pull you into his arms out in the garden. It felt right to hold you close to him and rub gentle, soothing circles into your back with his thumb, the way he’d always done before.

Mason felt unsure of himself. He worried that your hurry to get back inside was to get away from him. He pondered with the idea of going back into the gala so it didn’t seem like he was hovering. But he battled with himself internally, thinking that you may not have wanted to be left to your own devices.

He hated that the months he had spent apart from you had robbed him of his ability to read you. He just wished he could figure out what was going on in your head.

In the bathroom, if you hadn’t had a full face of makeup on, you would’ve taken this opportunity to splash your face with cold water. However, a few deep breaths while you told yourself to get it together would have to do, and you exited the bathroom, planning to find your way back to your table and leave as soon as the event was over. It would be best, you thought, to not engage too much with Mason to avoid getting your hopes up before they were inevitably crushed.

Those plans were cut short the moment you stepped out of the bathroom and into the building’s foyer. There, Mason was waiting for you, and your stomach did a flip at the soft smile that took over his face when he lifted his head and saw you.

A wave of relief that you hadn’t expected washed over you at the sight of him waiting there.

“It sounds like they’ve wrapped up the auction in there.” Mason jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing toward the large hall that you had fled from just a bit ago. You could hear the sound of loud conversation and laughter, signaling that Mason was, indeed correct, and the guests would be starting to exit the hall soon.

Unsure of what you were meant to say, you were thankful when Mason spoke up again. “Look, I’m here, and you’re welcome to stick with me if you’re still feeling a bit overwhelmed, but if you want me to just leave you be, I understa-”

“No, please,” you rushed to cut him off, the thought of having the face the room full of people before you alone sending a feeling of dread down your spine. “I mean… I just… can I just walk with you?” Your voice was small when you spoke again, feeling pathetic for being incapable of facing an event without him by your side.

A warm feeling spread across Mason’s chest at your words, feeling a sense of pride that his presence made you feel even a little bit safer in the unfamiliar environment. Wordlessly, he offered his arm to you again, a reassuring smile on his lips.

As much as you wanted to portray yourself as an independent person who was able to take care of yourself, you had to admit that the rest of the evening felt much easier with Mason at your side. It was so easy to slip back into the same old routine—everyone wanted to talk to the star footballer, and you were happy to stand quietly at his side while he shook hands and unleashed his irresistible charm on each one.

Mason kept you close to him at all times, and the warmth of him settled your nerves tremendously. The gentle placement of his hand on your lower back sent tingles up your spine every time, and it took everything in you not to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of overstepping.

It wasn’t much longer before Mason was leaning down, mumbling in your ear to ask if you were ready to leave. He knew this wasn’t your scene at all and had been looking for an opportunity to get you out of there since the two of you had stepped back into the gathering hall.

You had to hold back a shiver as his breath fanned over your neck, nodding in response. You let him know you just had to pop over to your table to grab your things and he nodded, following as you led the way.

Once you had retrieved your clutch and bid as quick of a goodbye as you could muster to those that were still lingering at your table, you and Mason turned to leave, heading back toward the set of doors you had entered through. The hall had grown more crowded, and as you weaved between tables, you allowed Mason to grasp your hand, leading the way through the sea of people so you wouldn’t be separated.

As you entered the foyer, Mason tugged you forward gently so that you returned to his side. The two of you exchanged a short smile.

“Is your hotel close by?” you asked, trying to make a bit of small talk as the two of you walked toward the exit.

When the bridge of Mason’s nose went red, a shy but unsure smile on his face, you slapped a hand over your face, realizing the double meaning of your question.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” you felt the heat in your face as you, no doubt, were turning bright red. “I was just trying to make small talk. Clearly, I’m not good at it.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Mason couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Uh, I’m actually making the drive back to Manchester tonight. We’ve got training tomorrow morning, so I’ve got to get home.” Mason reached the door, holding it open for you. “What about you? Are you nearby?”

“Yeah, actually.” The two of you reached the sidewalk in front of the building, coming to a stop as you turned toward each other. “I’m supposed to be a hotel just a bit that way.” You pointed behind him, toward the accommodations that your job was paying for.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you.

“You know… you’re welcome to tag along back to Manchester with me, if you wanted to. I could use the company to keep me awake.” Mason smiled softly at you, remembering how much you hated staying in hotels.

“Don’t you have Lewis or someone with you? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Mason shook his head in response, mumbling a quiet, “just me.” He was subtly rocking back and forth on his feet, and you could tell he was nervous about your answer.

Getting to go home, rather than sleeping in an uncomfortable hotel bed did sound pretty nice after the turn your night had taken.

Mason watched your eyebrows furrow in thought, an anxious feeing settling in his tummy as he awaited your response.

“You’re sure?”

Mason did his best to conceal the excitement he felt at the idea of getting to spend a couple more hours with you. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he whispered. “Come on, you and I both know you won’t get any sleep in that hotel bed.”

You couldn’t deny that he was right.

It wasn’t long before you were ducking into the passenger seat of Mason’s car, making sure the bottom of your dress was all the way in before Mason closed the door behind you.

The drive started out quiet, neither of you sure how to navigate the situation that you found yourself in. But as soon as you asked Mason about the FA Cup quarterfinal win over Liverpool where he had made his return following injury, his face lit up and things felt like they were almost back to normal.

You did your best to keep the topic of conversation on Mason and his life, not wanting to speak about yourself. Any time he seemed to be coming to the end of one topic, you were sure to ask another question before he had the chance to ask one to you.

Because, truth be told, life had been nothing but dull since the two of you had parted ways. Seeing him tonight was the most interesting thing to happen to you since… well, since the last time you’d seen him.

It was no secret that the transition to Manchester had been difficult for the both of you. There was no doubt it had contributed to the ending of your relationship. Leaving behind your friends, your old flat, and all of the things you had known had been no easy task. Thankfully, you had been able to stay in the same line of work, merely transferring to a new location. But you had struggled to adjust to the new, unfamiliar city, even more so when you didn’t have Mason at your side. Weekend visits back to London to visit your old friends were all that had kept you going in the last months.

As you listened to Mason telling stories of all of the fun things he had gotten up to with the boys on the team that he had grown closer with, the self-doubt creeped back in. He seemed to be doing so much better since the two of you called things off, and again your mind told you that maybe he was better off without you.

Mason noticed the change in your demeanor almost immediately. The car grew quiet, and you sat with your head leaned against the window, watching the lights as they passed. It may have been months since he last saw you, but he could recognize the signs of you overthinking from a mile away, unsure of whether it was about the announcer’s comments from earlier in the night or the fact that you were sitting in a car with him.

Wanting to provide a bit of reassurance, Mason reached over, taking your hand in his, bringing it up to his face, and pressing a quick kiss to the back of it. He placed your hand back in your lap, moving to put his back on the steering wheel, but your grip tightened slightly to prevent him from doing so. Your head remained pressed against the glass, but the small gesture brought a smile to Mason’s face as he shifted to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Mason didn’t press you for conversation, allowing you the space to process the events of the night however you needed to. Before long, Mason heard the soft sound of your deep, steady breathing, and a quick glance in your direction revealed that you had drifted off to sleep, your hand relaxed in his. The dull ache that had settled in his chest all night grew a bit sharper as he stole a few glances in your direction, admiring the peaceful expression on your face.

As much as he tried to hide it, as much as he tried to put on a brave face and talk about all of the amazing things that had been going on in his like recently, he couldn’t deny…

He missed you.

He missed having you like this, at his side at the end of a long day. He missed the feeling of ease that washed over him just by knowing you were close by and being able to have that same effect on you. He missed catching up with you at the end of the day, instead of trying to accurately recap the seven months that had passed since he’d last seen you.

He just missed you being in his life and had spent the last eight months trying to find out how to get you back in it.

*

You were jostled awake as you heard the sound of a car door closing. You sat up straight, blinking your eyes a few times as you tried your best to figure out where you were. You recognized the interior of Mason’s car, a flash of confusion running through you before the memories of the night came flooding back in.

The car door at your side opened, Mason appearing at your side as he crouched down, offering you the gentlest of smiles.

“Hey there, love,” he spoke softly, and the kind look in his eyes made your heart flutter. “You fell asleep on the way back, and I realized I don’t know where your new flat is.”

The little flutter of your heart quickly died, the reality of your failed relationship crashing back in after you had been able to put it to the back of your mind for much of the night since Mason had come to your aid.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry,” you shook your head, reaching for your bag to pull out your phone. “I’ll just order a car, I’m so sor-”

“Don’t be silly, just stay here. I’ve got some extra things you can use, and I’m going into training late tomorrow anyway, so I can drop you at home on my way,” Mason smiled at you, and the way his eyes shone hopefully meant you wouldn’t need much convincing, whispering a soft “okay” in reply.

Mason took your hand, helping you out of the car and leading you inside as you wiped your bleary eyes. He led you to his room, releasing your hand as he wandered through the room, laying out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants for you to wear. He wandered to the bathroom for a few moments. When he emerged, you watched with confusion as he collected a few things in his hands and walked toward his door.

“You can sleep in here tonight. I still had some of your skincare products left over from before, so they’re out on the counter,” he smiled at you. “I’ll just be in the guest room, if you need anything.”

His generosity caught you off-guard, and before you could come up with a response, he placed a quick kiss to the top of your head and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

You stood in the middle of the room for a moment, just looking around, taking it all in. You never would have suspected that you’d find yourself here again, and you couldn’t wrap your head around the turn that this night had taken.

Finally snapping yourself out of it, you slipped out of your dress, pulling Mason’s shirt over your head. The scent of his cologne mixed with the laundry detergent he always used brought a wave of emotion crashing over you, and your lower lip wobbled as you walked into the bathroom.

Along with a spare toothbrush that he had set out for you, all of your skincare products were lined up on the counter, and the thought that he had held onto them for you after all this time was what finally caused the tears the spill down your cheeks, the emotions of the night finally catching up with you.

When you crawled into the bed, face washed and feeling fresher after the long night, you allow the tears to flow, pressing your face into Mason’s pillow.

All of it was so overwhelming. Seeing him again after so long. How unsure you had felt of yourself throughout the night. Being humiliated in front of an entire audience. The way Mason had run to your side without a moment’s hesitation. The way it had felt so natural to fall back into conversation with him, to touch him, for him to touch you. Being back in the house that you had once shared with him.

It was all too much.

Not even 30 feet away, Mason was lying on his back in the guest bed, eyes wide open as he stared at the ceiling. There was no way he was falling asleep any time soon, the thought of you in his bed only a few steps away enough to keep him awake.

After an hour had passed, accompanied by only his racing thoughts, Mason toyed with the idea of sneaking down to his room to see if you were awake. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to you, and he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t get to say them soon.

But he thought better of it, guessing that you were probably already asleep, and he didn’t want to disturb you.

However, Mason had guessed wrong. Instead, you were lying on your side, legs tucked up close to your body, staring at the small, framed photo of the two of you on Mason’s side table. It had always been there during your relationship, and the thought that he had kept it in the time since you had split brought such a weight of sadness over you that you felt sick.

Did he miss you the way you missed him? Did he, too, regret not fighting harder for your relationship with every day that passed?

The thought kept you awake until the early hours of the morning.

When Mason awoke the next morning, a heavy exhaustion weighed on him as he had only slept a few hours, tossing and turning the entire time. He crawled out of bed and slipped a shirt over his head, his feet padding softly on the carpeted floor as he moved down the hallway to check on you. He noticed that the door to his room was already open, and when he peeked his head in, you were nowhere to be found.

From the way the blankets were shifted, Mason could tell that you had slept on his side of the bed, and his chest tightened at the thought.

The sound of clinking pots and pans coming from the kitchen caused Mason’s ears to perk up and led him in that direction.

As Mason rounded the corner, he found you, with your back facing him, standing in front of the oven. Your hair, falling across your shoulders, still held some of the curl that you had done for the event the night prior. Mason’s heart clenched at the sight of you in his shirt and a pair of his sweatpants.

A few pans and bowls were scattered across the stovetop and counters, and Mason recognized all of the components of the hearty breakfast you used to make when both of you had the day off. The combination of smells was so specific, and the déjà vu nearly made him dizzy.

You turned around, reaching for a bowl on the counter and jumped slightly when you saw Mason there.

“Sorry,” he breathed, still at a bit of a loss for words. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.”

You just gave him a small smile and a short “s’okay” as you turned back to the stove. “Sorry if I woke you.” Your voice sounded so small—Mason hated it. He hated the tension that hung in the air between the two of you. He hated the fact that you had nearly become strangers to each other.

In the hours that you had spent, lying awake with your thoughts running wild in Mason’s bed, you had resolved to avoid complicating things further than they already had been. Things were awkward enough between the two of you after Mason had graciously come to the rescue, despite the ending of your relationship, and you were determined to make it home without making it worse.

You owed it to yourself— your feelings for Mason were still there, hidden just beneath the surface. But you refused to put yourself out there and put your heart through that pain again.

You wished you had it in you to be cold with him, completely cutting off any chance of rekindling something between the two of you— any risk of getting your hopes up. But you knew Mason, and you knew that he often wore his heart on his sleeve, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him like that, either.

But despite your resolve and determination, the sorrow-filled gaze in Mason’s eyes had already begun to pierce through the armor that you had put around your heart.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Mason slipped into one of the chairs on the opposite side of the island countertop. His eyes followed you as you finished preparing the last of the breakfast. You dished out two plates— a portion for yourself and another, larger portion for Mason.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know?” Mason spoke softly as you set the plate in front of him.

You shrugged, standing on the opposite side of the island from him as you stared down at your own plate. “It’s the least I could do. It’s your food anyway,” you mumbled, poking at your eggs with a fork, suddenly feeling too sick to eat anything.

“Well, thank you, Y/N,” Mason said, earnestly. “I really appreciate it.”

Mason couldn’t help but feel discouraged by your stony demeanor. He had hoped that after the night prior, the two of you might be on the right path to sorting things out between you, but now he wasn’t so sure.

He kept stealing quick glances at you as he ate, savoring every delicious bite. But he could tell how uneasy you felt as you stood there, tucking your hair behind your ear as you took small bites from your plate.

The tension was thick as the two of you ate in silence, neither one sure how to even begin the conversation. Did you talk about last night, or leave the topic untouched?

The longer the silence stretched between the two of you, the heavier the weight on your heart grew. As much as you had tried not to get your hopes up, and as many times as you told yourself that your relationship with Mason was well and truly over, a small part of you had still hoped that he would say something this morning— anything, really. That small part of you wanted to believe that this chance encounter was the key—a sign that the two of you needed to find your way back to each other.

But despite it all, the spark that you had hoped was still there seemed to have been snuffed out.

You kept your eyes glued to your plate, afraid that Mason would see them shining with tears and start asking questions. You didn’t want him to think you were pathetic— needing him to rescue you the night before and now here, standing in his kitchen, crying because he didn’t want you back.

You took a breath and steeled yourself to pack up your things from his room and get the fastest Uber back home you could manage.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you scraped the last of your food into the trashcan, no longer able to stomach another bite, and placed the empty dish in the sink. You left the kitchen as quickly as you could, trying to hide your face from Mason as the first tears fell.

Mason was taken by surprise at your sudden rush to leave the room, the noise a stark contrast to the silence that had hung thick in the air. He watched your back as you walked out without so much as a glance in his direction.

His stomach sank. He had hoped, after lying awake all night thinking of you, that you had been cooking breakfast for him as a sort of sign—a signal that you wanted to talk things over again and revisit the topic of him and you. But the unpleasant aura that had remained between the two of you while you ate had gotten you no closer to that conversation.

Maybe he had read too far into things. Maybe the breakfast had just been a ‘thank you’ for driving you back to Manchester last night. Maybe he had pushed too far and inviting you to stay at his was too much, too soon.

Mason pushed his plate away from him, dropping his head into his hands and huffing a sigh as he felt his eyes burn with tears that surprised him. He hadn’t realized just how much the last 24 hours had gotten his hopes up for reigniting a relationship with you until you seemed to have walked away from it altogether.

It was almost like he could feel his heart breaking all over again.

But no, Mason resolved. He refused to let you walk away from him again, not until he had fully expressed to you how deeply he missed you, how much he still cared for you.

With renewed determination, Mason stood from his chair and nearly ran to his bedroom.

Standing outside of his own bedroom door, Mason hesitated for a moment, again overthinking his decision to confront the issue head-on.

But that didn’t last for more than a second before he was tapping his knuckles gently on the door three times.

“You can come in,” he heard your small voice.

When he opened the door, slowly, he found you just returning from the bathroom, several of your own items in hand. As you attempted to collect all of your things, Mason didn’t miss the tear you tried to inconspicuously wipe from your cheek or the soft sniffle you tried to hide with a cough. His heart softened— seeing you cry had always been one of the things he hated most.

“I have an Uber on the way. Should be here any minute. I don’t want to ask you to drive me again,” you spoke hurriedly, as if overcompensating for your fragile state by talking too much. “I can, um, just wash these clothes and drop them off sometime. I really-“

You were cut off when you turned to walk around to the other side of the bed and instead, ran straight into Mason’s chest.

He steadied you with a hand on each of your arms. He held an unreadable expression on his face, and you knew there was no hiding the tear streaks on your cheeks now. However, Mason’s eyes shone with as he looked down at you.

It was silent for several seconds until Mason spoke in a whisper, pleading.

“Don’t go.”

And the silence returned. Your thoughts were spinning a mile a minute. Your mouth dropped open, your brain making its most valiant attempt at forming a response, and yet no words came to you.

Mason took your loss for words as an invitation to continue. “I miss mornings like this. I miss falling asleep with you in my arms and waking up next to you. I miss talking to you at the end of the day,” his lower lip wobbled as he paused to collect himself. “I miss you, Y/N.”

His words pierced right to your heart. Whatever walls you had built to keep him out were nowhere near strong enough and you could already feel them beginning to crumble.

“Letting you walk away was the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ve spent every day since then wishing I could go back and change it all. I would’ve fought harder for you— for us.” Mason pleaded softly. “Seeing you last night made me realize that none of that has gone away, I still feel the way I did before. Please— please tell me you feel it, too.”

The tears poured freely from your eyes now, and there was no holding them back. You rolled your lips into your mouth, attempting to hold in a sob. Mason’s hands left your arms, coming up to cradle your cheeks as you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. His thumbs swiped at your cheeks, trying to dry your tears.

“I can’t, Mason. W-We can’t,” your voice trembled.

“Why can’t we?” Mason was desperate, resting his forehead against yours. The proximity was making your head spin, the feeling of his breath fanning across your face too familiar, too overwhelming.

“Who’s to say it won’t be the same as the last time?” you cried, finally looking back at him. “I can’t go through that pain, not again.”

“We decide that it’ll be different.” Mason was ready to get on his knees and beg if he had to. “Things will be better this time— I’ll be better.”

He knew that what you had was worth fighting for, and if there was any chance—even a shred of hope—that you would give him another shot, he had to take it.

You looked up into his tear-filled eyes as he whispered, “I just know I can’t lose you, Y/N, not again.”

Like a dam breaking loose, a sob wracked your body at his words. Whatever had been left of the walls you had built up came crashing to the ground. Mason was quick to pull you into his chest, resting his cheek on the top of your head as he rubbed soothing circles into your back.

It was like all of the hurt and emotions from the last eight months tore through you at once. Mason, feeling the way your frame was shaking, held you tightly to him, as if he were the only thing holding you together in that moment. He kissed the top of your head, and you could hear him sniffle, knowing that he was crying, too.

As your cries grew softer and you began to calm down, you clutched Mason’s shirt tightly in your fists, afraid that if you released him, he would disappear.

Mason eventually leaned back to look at you and you lifted your head from where it was buried in his chest. There was the softest hint of a smile on his face as he tried to wipe away the remaining tears.

“I-If we do this…” Mason’s tummy flipped at your words, clinging to the sense of hope that they brought. “If we give this another chance, we have to take it slow.”

Mason nodded quickly, his eyes flicking all over your face for any sign of hesitation. “Anything you need, love. Anything at all.”

Your lower lip wobbled as you took him in. “I’ve missed you so much, Masey.”

Mason pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, his heart soaring at the use of his nickname. “I’m here now, and I’m not leaving— never again.”

You leaned forward, pressing your face into his neck and hugged him again, trying to drink if the feeling of being back in his arms. You let him overwhelm your senses— the feeling of his arms around your body, his comforting scent as you breathed him in, the sound of his heartbeat that calmed you so easily.

“I know we’re taking it slow, but I have a couple more hours until training,” Mason spoke softly as you pulled back, looking up at him. A hopeful smile played on his lips. “Will you stick around? Cancel your Uber. I can take you home on my way.”

“Are you sure?” There was still that shred of lingering doubt, the fear of imposing yourself.

“I’m so sure,” he smiled. “I don’t think i’m ready to let go of you just yet.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips before you whispered a soft “okay.”

Never, when you left for the gala the night before, did you think this was where you would find yourself—back at Mason’s house, as he led you to the couch to cuddle while you talked about what your next steps would be. But as you lay in his arms, admiring the soft scattering of freckles across his cheeks, you felt a piece of your heart that had been missing those last few months begin to heal.

And you couldn’t be more thankful that you had your boy back.

As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated!!! 🤍

tag list:

@hischierswhore @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @brasiliangp @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @sid-vii @captainpulisic

[lcvclywon]

teaser 𓍯𓂃 SO HIGHSCHOOL | ot7 series

back to masterlist

taglist ── open! until 29/5/2924 send an ask or comment to be added! | @floweryang @cupidhoons @ak-aaa-li @yvjw @xiaoderrrr @jlheon @junislqve @roastandtoast @un06 @lilyuwon @bywons @venn-ie @yongbokified @jwsdoll @tobiosbbyghorl @laurradoesloveu @chaehyunloveeee @shawnyle @en-gelic @hwangism143 @bbinwrld @deffnotnia @belovedsthings @honeywonuu @k1ttylvr @dimplewonie @llvrhee @fateenthisast @sasfransisco @tokkisann @jaklvbub @nazwrites-2002 @sseishiross @nshmrarki

DISCLAIMERS! i'm not trying to sexualize enhypen nor any other idols, this is a work of fiction. I do not actually view them like this in real life. Please do not copy nor plagarise.

thoughts frm yuya 💭 ack !!! blurb + announcement post finally out hehe >< each fic will be realllyyyy long so please do be patient with the posts TT Jay one will prob release first! I'll be releasing them throughout June + July so make sure to stay tuned for each post !! I will not be making separate taglists for each story unfortunately. Also huge huge HUGE thanks to my pookies @cupidhoons @bywons and @wonfilms for all the help on this, they legit helped me develop so many of the stories so i'm so grateful for that ^^ anw hope u guys are excited as I am about this !! (also apologies the header pics look so ass....all my design ideas were gone)

You know how to ball I know Aristotle | LEE HEESEUNG

READ HERE

where...

You hate heeseung. You hate his toothy grin, you hate his obnoxiously loud laugh, you hate his roaring athleticism, and you've hated his guts ever since he dropped you in grade 7 for those stupid basketballers. Ever since then Lee Heeseung has never held a place in your heart, every waking moment you spent in the same building with him you were filled with sheer pettiness. But when your broadcasting club leader hands you an offer you can't refuse, can you put aside your differences for once and work with him?

pairing ── heeseung x female reader

genre ── forced proximity, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, popular basketball player x broadcasting club

wc ── est 12k or more

warnings ── cursing, heeseung lwk a dickhead, kissing, alcohol, underage drinking, fighting, they're both kinda evil

release date ── tba

So tell me, who else is gonna know me? | PARK JONGSEONG

READ HERE

where...

Park Jongseong and Baek Y/N: the two biggest names in Decelis and two richest. Jay knew he would be bringing a date to his brothers wedding at the end of the school year, but he didn't expect that partner to be you of all people. After a small white lie Jay finds himself entangled in a rouse to fool his parents that you and him are now dating. This however seems to be a bigger blessing than you realise. While both using each other as pawns you find yourself "dating" Jay until the wedding; but as a four day trip ensues feelings change, lines get crossed, and walls come down.

pairing ── Jay x female reader

genre ── fake dating, childhood connection, rich kid au, one bed trope, slight angst

wc ── est 17k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, slight suggestiveness if you squint?, both of them are lwk nepo babies, slight familial issues, mentions of food, mentions of weddings, pet names

release date ── tba - maybe sometime this month ?

Everything comes out of teenage petulance | SIM JAEYUN

READ HERE

where...

Sixth grade, that was when you first laid eyes on Jake Sim and you swore in that moment were what the poets called: lovestruck. Ever since that day you've been harbouring a massive crush on your older brothers best friend, a crush that would never be reciprocated unfortunately. However this was a fact you've learned to come to terms with. But in the midst of Junior year, when your physics grades are at the cusp of failure, your parents suggest Jake to help tutor you. When your repressed crush seems to resurface, you may not be as hopeless as you seem.

pairing ── Jake x female reader

genre ── brothers best friend x reader, forbidden romance, tutor x tutee, obvious x oblivious

wc ── est 11k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, age gap of like 1 year (jake is a senior and YN is a junior I SWEAR ITS NOT WEIRD), taesan as the older brother and hes protective as shit please bear with that, inspired by hidden love obv

release date ── tba

I died on the altar waiting for the proof | PARK SUNGHOON

READ HERE

where...

Following your parents death you abruptly are forced to move to Jinhae to live with your aunt. You love your life in Jinhae working in your aunts cafe, your life was quiet. However that was all until Park Sunghoon showed up one day, out of the blue, completely unannounced. To make matters worse he ends up having to work with you at your aunts cafe. Everything resurfaces: both the fond memories and nasty ones. Can you manage to work peacefully with each other both at work and school, or will your unresolved feelings threaten to strain your already troubled relationship.

pairing ── Sunghoon x female reader

genre ── exes to lovers, enemies to lovers, workplace romance (? kinda), forced proximity, misunderstandings, angst, small town romance

wc ── est 16k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, sunghoon and yn being at each others throats, they're both kinda evil to each other, a lot of misunderstandings, pet names, parents death, mentions of grief

release date ── tba - maybe early next month or late this month

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh | KIM SUNOO

READ HERE

where...

Sunoo and YN. Everyone knew both your names went hand in hand with each other since preschool. Sunoo always made it clear how much he liked you, that perhaps might've been the downfall of your relationship in highschool. After his incessant confessions you learned to grow indifferent to his quick pickup lines between lessons. You don't like Sunoo like that, you'll never be able to see him like that. But when he suddenly starts dating Seol Yoona, you can't help but feel a pang of jealousy strike your heart. However with the help of Jungwon you hope to solve the conflicts straining your relationship.

pairing ── Sunoo x female reader

genre ── soulmates au, grumpy x sunshine, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, second lead syndrome

wc ── est 11k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, yn is kinda evil and sunoo is way better than me fr i would have dropped her, sunoo also kinda desperate tho, kinda ? using jungwon as a pawn, fighting, slight angst, pet names

release date ── tba

You gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? | YANG JUNGWON

READ HERE

where...

1st rank: Choi YN. You could always trust that your name would be top of the list all. the. time. That was until highschool at least when you transferred to Decelis for higher academic challenge. However what you didn't expect was for said higher academic challenge to come in a teenage boy with annoyingly deep dimples. Yang Jungwon. Student council president and your sworn rival since the moment you stepped into Decelis. With you two being top students, president and vice president, and not to mention the two top debaters in school, it was safe to say almost every aspect of your highschool life revolved around beating Jungwon. But when you are forced to work with him in debate for nationals, you find yourself truly questioning why you hated him to begin with.

pairing ── Jungwon x female reader

genre ── academic rivals to lovers, forced proximity, top student x student council president

wc ── est 16k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, loosely based off of Ann Liangs 'If you could see the sun', some fighting, yn and jungwon at each others throats all the time, theyre kinda hella mean to each other, mentions of anxiety, academic pressure

release date ── tba - mid of june maybe?

Fuck it if I can't have him | NISHIMURA RIKI

READ HERE

where...

Riki Nishimura had a reputation: an all round bad influence, bottom of his class, and had more absences than presences flooding his attendance card; everyone believed he was a lost cause. So imagine your surprise when you and and him were sitting side by side at the principals office while he explained the new tutoring program that would be set in place for him. Well now there was another thing to add to his reputation: YN's student. Reluctantly accepting the proposal you find yourself entangled in RIki's complicated life. While getting to know each other more and more, you realise there's more to Riki than meets the eye.

pairing ── Niki x female reader

genre ── trouble maker x goody two shoes, tutor x tutee, obvious x oblivious, student council president x bad boy, he falls first you fall harder

wc ── est 16k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, smoking, drinking, fighting, mentions of injury and cuts, riki lwk being a little shit at the start, teacher involvement/meddling, YN under a LOT of pressure

release date ── tba

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

hii!

can i request a fic where you and jude have been dating for a couple of months and you have only been surface level intimate because you’re a bit nervous (reader is inexperienced) and you decide that you finally want to do the deed and jude is just being all reassuring and sweet about it!

a/n: thank you for your request, it took me a while to finally post it but after yesterday's exciting win I'm uploading it as a gift. I hope you like it!

AT YOUR PACE

jude bellingham x inexperiencedgf!reader

warnings: +18 content, p in v, protected sex, fingering, dirty talk… and english is not my first language.

summary: Tonight was the night. You could feel it in the air, in the way he looked at you, in the way your heart raced, or in the way your skin burned under his touch. Even though your nerves managed to make you a little anxious, Jude had always had a way of making everything so easy, loving, comfortable, and at your pace.

The evening had settled in, casting the living room in a soft glow from the city lights outside. The sound of the movie you had put on earlier played faintly in the background, but you hadn’t been paying attention for a while now. Instead, you were curled up against Jude on the couch, his arm resting around your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair. It was familiar, natural. You’d spent many nights like this over the past few months, enveloped in the comfort of each other’s presence. But tonight felt different—there was a quiet tension that hummed beneath the surface.

It wasn’t the first time you and Jude had been this close. Over the past few months, you’d shared countless kisses, sweet touches, and long moments of quiet intimacy. But every time things had started to heat up, you’d found yourself pulling back, nervous about taking that next step. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, it was more that you weren’t sure how to. You hadn’t been with anyone like this before, and that uncertainty had held you back, even though Jude had never once pressured you.

In fact, he had already gotten used to it. Jude knew that your nerves were due to your inexperience and embarrassment, not your doubts about him. He didn't pressure you and treated you with the care you deserved.

Your heart had been fluttering for the past half hour, ever since Jude’s lips brushed softly against your temple, his touch lingering a little longer than usual. You leaned into him slightly, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing, and bit your lip. Both of you were so used to that situations that sometimes, was Jude the one that would slow down, pulling back, knowing you weren’t ready to go further. He’d never pushed you—his patience had always been unwavering, his respect for your boundaries something you cherished.

But tonight, something inside you was different.

You weren’t sure when it happened or how, but you felt it now. Maybe it was the warmth of his body next to yours, or the way his hand now gently traced circles on your back. Maybe it was the way his eyes had lingered on yours a little longer, darker than usual, filled with something more. Whatever it was, the tension inside you was building, and for the first time, you didn’t want to hold back.

You shifted slightly, tilting your head up towards him, meeting his gaze. His eyes flicked down to your lips, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile—a smile that sent a shiver through you.

“Beautiful,” he murmured softly, tucking your hair behind your ears.

Jude leaned down, brushing his lips softly against yours, a kiss that was sweet, almost hesitant, like he was waiting for your response. You kissed him back, your lips moving against his with a growing urgency that surprised even you. His hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you a little closer, and before you knew it, you were melting into him, the world around you fading away.

The kiss deepened, and your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath under your fingers. You could sense Jude’s restraint even as he kissed you—never wanting to push you beyond but also, not wanting you to drive him mad.

As his hand slipped to the small of your back, pulling you closer, you felt a rush of heat through your body. Your nerves were still there, bubbling just under the surface, but they were overshadowed by a new kind of need. You leaned into him more, pressing yourself against him, your hands sliding up to his neck, your fingers threading into his hair.

Instinctively, your hips pushed forward, pressing against his crotch. As the kiss deepened and grew wetter, your movements became more intense, almost subconscious, not fully aware of the effect you were having on him. You were completely lost in your own sensations, feeling an unexpected sense of release, as if you were finally breaking free from something that had been held back for far too long.

Jude groaned softly into the kiss, his fingers tightening on your waist as your hips shifted, rubbing against him. The sound he made, low and throaty, sent a thrill through you, and you felt a surge of confidence you hadn’t before. You wanted him to keep going, to take this further.

Your boyfriend froze for a second, as if taken aback by your sudden intensity. His lips stilled against yours, his body stiffening slightly. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing heavy and his lips already swollen.

“Babe…” His voice was low, filled with concern. “What are you—”

But you silenced him by kissing him again, your lips more insistent this time, your body pressing against his in a way that made your intentions clear. Your hands slid from his chest to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you leaned into him. You could feel the heat of him, the tension in his muscles as he fought to hold himself back.

Jude’s eyes searched yours, his breath uneven as if he was waiting for you to pull back, to stop like usual. But when you didn’t, when you leaned in again, kissing him with more urgency, more need, something in him shifted. He groaned again, this time deeper and lower, the sound vibrating against your lips as his hands slid down to your hips, pulling you flush against him.

"Maybe we should stop." He breathed, but you shook your head.

"No, I´m okey."

His hands moved with more confidence now, more purpose, pulling you tighter into his chest. The kiss grew hotter, more intense, and you felt the last of your nervousness melt away, replaced by a deep, aching want. You shifted in his lap, the friction sending sparks through your body, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips.

Jude paused for a moment at the sound, breathing heavily. His hands tightened on your hips, stopping you from continuing. He was already hard. He tried to hold back, but his voice, when he spoke, was tight, full of desire.

“Y/N, love, are you sure?” he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. It was the last question he’d ask, the last time he’d give you a chance to back out. He needed to hear it, needed to know that you were okay with where this was going. "I need you to say it with words."

"Please, Jude, please, I want you," you said. Words of need.

Jude’s resolve finally broke. His hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you against him as he kissed you back with a hunger that left you breathless. His mouth moved against yours, more demanding now, his restraint melting away with each passing second.

He stood up, taking you with him in one swift motion, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Your back hit the bed softly, and Jude hovered above you, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands exploring the bare skin under your shirt sending shivers down your spine.

You found yourself opening your mouth to let his tongue slide in again and greet yours with passion, making you two gravitate towards each other even more. Now your hands traced his perfectly defined abs, as his hands moved down to your bum and squeezed it. A whimper escaped from your mouth, greedily pleading for more. Jude slowly pulled his mouth away from yours, making sure to lustfully bite down on your lip on his way out.

Your panting filled the air, as Jude moved his lips down to the side of your neck biting, licking, kissing, and whispering under your earlobe over and over again, "I love you. I love you. I love you so much…" You were still nervous, but his whispers were words of affirmation and each time he caressed you, you were more certain that he was the one you wanted to do this with.

You wanted to tell him that you loved him back, but he moved down your neck and placed a harsher kiss in a spot below where he had previously kissed, slightly nibbling on your soft skin. Jude knew he was going to leave a mark and that mere thought made him harder. "You need to tell me if you want to stop," he said, trying to control himself from going too fast or rougher. "Tell me to fucking stop, babe," he pleaded softly.

He slid his lips down once more, sucking on the part of your neck just above your shoulder. "Y/N," he begged his girlfriend, but was once again met with silence. You grabbed his face and placed one hand on either side of his cheeks while looking him directly in the eyes, "I don´t want you to stop, Jude. I can´t."

As those words left your mouth, Jude grew himself harder under his sweatpants. "Fuck," he growled while moving his hands to throw off your shirt. The soft fabric stopped feeling against your skin, and since you weren't wearing a bra, your bare tits bounced slightly and your nipples hardened, feeling the contrast of the cool night air. Your cheeks instantly flushed and your hands instinctively tried to cover your chest. Jude smiled at the sight of you, you couldn't be more beautiful and your embarrassment only made him laugh. "Don't even think about covering yourself up. You're so beautiful. So fucking beautiful."

He pushed you down onto the bed while taking off his shirt, making you practically drool at the sight. Then, he separated your legs to press his clothed hard-on against your clothed heat. You let out another whimper as you felt him.

His thumbs started tracing slowly and teasingly circles over the tops of your nipples, causing your heat to begin aching from how bad you wanted him. You gasped in pleasure at what your teasing boyfriend was doing and bucked your hips up into his as you heard him let out a groan. He moved his hands and brought his mouth down to your perfect peeks , beginning to suck eagerly on them while squeezing.

"These are mine," he said in the middle of the kisses.

You let out a string of moans at his possessives words as pleasure took over you. Feeling your necessity of him, Jude reached for the trail of buttons of your shorts with confident hands and undid them one by one, looking up at you to keep eye contact searching for your constant approval. The lust in his eyes was undeniable. 

Once your shorts were loose around your hips, he snuck one hand inside from the front. He didn’t want to overwhelm you by touching your bare and sensitive skin right away, so he found the source of heat over the thin fabric of your panties and pressed your clothed cunt.

"Ah," you simply blurted out as you felt a thousand butterflies in your lower abdomen. You had never felt anything like this before.

He quickly moved your panties to the side and nothing could have prepared you for that feeling. So much arousal from just kissing him. You were soaked.

Jude grabbed your hips firmly, lifting you so you hovered over his lap. His fingers found your entrance, teasing you with light, soft touches that made your hips buck involuntarily. He smiled, clearly enjoying your reaction.

Slowly, he slid one finger inside you, watching your face intently for any signs of discomfort. You gasped at the sensation, a mixture of pleasure and a slight unfamiliar stretch. Jude´s thumb moved to your clit, rubbing gentle, circular motions that sent sparks of pleasure through you.

"You look forgotten like this," he murmured, adding another finger and increasing the pressure on your clit. "So wet... only for me." His dirty talk made the feeling a thousand times better.

You were overwhelmed, but in the best way possible. His fingers worked you expertly, curling inside you to hit that perfect spot while his thumb continued its rhythmic movements on your clit. His other hand caressed your left breast, circling your nipple with his thumb moistened by his saliva.

His hands never tired of touching you wherever they could, never stopping moving, and your eyes instinctively closed, gripping the sheets to grab onto something. “Ju- Jude… I can’t… it’s too much…” He slowed down his pace, which didn’t help, on the contrary, it was torture how he touched you so slowly.

“Yes, you can.” He said with a deep voice full of desire. He couldn’t believe he was finally seeing you like this. All for him, to worship you and drive you crazy. “Hold on, love.”

Jude felt your wetness drip down his fingers. Your legs started shaking, causing you to hold on to Jude’s shoulders.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice thick with desire. “Hold on to me.”

You could feel the tension building, your body trembling as you neared the edge. “Jude, I’m— Ah!” you said, barely able to get your words out.

Jude’s eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with a mixture of lust and admiration. “No, not yet. Trust me.”he urged softly. “Hold on, I’ve got you.”

Now your moans weren't contained in your throat, but just as you were about to let them out, he stopped his movements. Confused and of course a little upset, you sat up to look at him with your teary eyes.

“Wha—Whyyyyy?” You were surprised that your complaint sounded so whiney and desperate. The sudden halt of that intensity didn't sit well with you. What the hell was he playing at?

“We haven’t even started, love.” he declared. “I can’t let you cum on my fingers yet,” he explained next to your ear, planting kisses on your hot, flushed cheeks. Then, he pulled his fingers away and brought them to his lips, tasting you, looking straight into your eyes. He didn’t say anything as if it was the most normal thing in the world, as if he hadn’t made you any wetter.

His words sent a fresh wave of desire through you, and you reached for him, pulling him closer. You kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips. “You alright?” he asked, his voice gentle but filled with authority.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice steady despite the residual tremors of your almost orgasm.

Jude’s hands found the waistband of his sweatpants, his fingers brushing against your skin, and with a gentle tug, he guided you as you helped him slide them off. The material slipped down his legs easily, leaving him in just his black boxers. You felt your heart race, your breath catching in your throat as a wave of nerves washed over you. Your hands, which had been so eager just moments ago, faltered, freezing in place. Jude noticed immediately, his movements stopping as well. He didn’t rush you, instead, he gently took your hands in his and stroked your palms with his thumbs, the warmth of his touch calming your racing mind.

Slowly, you lifted your head to meet his gaze, his deep brown eyes filled with nothing but softness and understanding. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, lost in the tenderness of his expression. Sensing your hesitation, Jude leaned in close, his lips brushing lightly against your forehead before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Remember, we can stop whenever you want, okay?” he whispered softly, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves. “It’s all right.”

His reassurance grounded you. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and looked up at him with a shy, almost bashful smile. Your heart swelled with affection, and as you stared at him, completely smitten, you shook your head. “No… I don’t want to stop,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, but filled with a growing sense of need. The nervousness slowly melted away, replaced by something deeper, more urgent. You needed him.

The anticipation between you both grew with every passing second. You could feel it, and he could too. Jude’s breath hitched as your hands resumed their exploration, this time with more confidence. And then, finally, he was fully exposed to you, his arousal undeniable, his desire for you clear in every inch of his body. He was bigger than you had expected, and for a moment, your breath caught again, a mix of excitement and a hint of nervousness.

Jude, ever patient, reached into the drawer of his nightstand, his fingers quickly finding a condom. He tore the packet open with practiced ease, and after a moment, he carefully rolled it on. His eyes never left yours, and you could feel the connection between you intensifying.

He approached your core slowly, positioning himself between your legs. “We’re gonna take it slowly,” he instructed. “At your own pace.”

You nodded, your breath steady but trembling with anticipation, and felt him enter you with deliberate care. The initial stretch was a sharp contrast to the gentleness of his movements, the sensation both foreign and intense. It was overwhelming, and instinctively, your fingers tightened around his biceps, signaling for him to pause.

“God,” you breathed, trying to adjust to his size.

Jude stopped immediately, his gaze softening as he waited, giving you time. His strong hands stayed firm on your hips, grounding you, a silent reminder that he was there—patient, attentive. He leaned to kiss your temple, and then your neck, making you giggle.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, each word dripping with praise and desire. The way he said it, with such raw intensity, sent a shiver down your spine. “Just relax,” he coaxed softly, leaning down to press another gentle kiss against your forehead. “I’ve got you. I promise.”

You took a deep breath, letting his words wash over you, calming the lingering nervousness. Slowly, you began to relax, your body adjusting to the new sensations. Jude remained still, watching your every movement, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin as if to remind you that you were the one deciding the rhythm.

When you nodded again, giving him permission to continue, he began to move, slow and steady, his motions deliberate but unhurried. The initial discomfort gradually faded, giving way to a slow-building warmth that spread through your body. Each thrust brought a new wave of pleasure, gentle at first but growing more intense with each passing second. He groaned as he moved cursing under his breath. His hands never left your skin, tracing light patterns on your hips and waist, his touch both reassuring and electrifying.

You moaned when his thumb found your clitoris and began rubbing it while he pushed into you a little harder and faster than before.

“That’s it,” Jude whispered, his breath hot against your ear, the sound of his voice sending sparks of excitement through you. “You’re doing so so good.” His words were like a lifeline, pulling you deeper into the moment, making you feel safe, cherished, even as the intensity of your connection deepened.

His hands guided your hips with gentle but firm pressure, matching your movements to his. Each shift of his body, each thrust, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, and soon, you weren’t thinking at all, just feeling. Jude’s grip tightened slightly, just enough to anchor you as the rhythm between you became more fluid, more confident. His touch was a perfect balance of control and tenderness, always making sure you were comfortable, never rushing, always allowing you to set the pace.

Jude responded to your movements with faster thrusts, never breaking eye contact with you. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of desire and affection. Jude's hands roamed your body, caressing your breasts, sliding down your back, and gripping your hips, the warmth of his touch sending shivers across your skin. His lips found yours again, kissing you deeply, his breath mingling with yours as you wrapped yourself around him, feeling the heat between you both intensify.

"God, you feel so good," Jude murmured against your lips, his voice full of admiration, laced with raw need. He moaned at the pleasure he was feeling and pulled you closer to his body, if that was even possible.

You moaned in response, the pleasure building up to an almost unbearable peak, your bodies moving together in perfect sync. Jude could feel how close you were, and his hands guided your movements with more urgency, his fingers digging into your skin as his own breathing quickened, matching the rapid pace of your heartbeats. His thumb was still on your clitoris, rubbing in fast circles, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. One of your fists clenched around his bicep, the other hand tightening around his back.

"Baby, open your eyes for me," he said breathlessly, his voice rough and filled with longing.

"I can´t," you mumbled, your eyes were closed, tears in the corners of them.

"Come on, babe," he breathed, his voice strained, almost desperate.

Those words, spoken with such raw desire, were all it took. You shattered, the orgasm crashing over you in waves, leaving you gasping and trembling as the room filled with the sound of your moans. Jude followed soon after, moaning too, his grip on your hips tightening—so tight you knew it would leave marks later—as he found his release, cursing your name.

You collapsed together, your bodies tangled, still clinging to one another, as if afraid to let go. Both breathless and covered in sweat, you held each other in the aftermath, hearts pounding in unison, as the intensity slowly ebbed away. Jude’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, his embrace firm and comforting as you both came down from the euphoric high.

As the world began to return to normal, the silence settling around you both, you nestled into his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat soothing you, grounding you. He pressed gentle kisses to every inch of skin he could find, his lips soft and warm, lingering on your shoulder, your neck, anywhere he could reach. His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns on your back, the tenderness in his touch contrasting with the fervor of earlier.

Your heart fluttered, that kind of warmth only new experiences bring. You hadn’t known what to expect—maybe awkwardness, uncertainty—but instead, there was this calm. A lingering sense of closeness that felt as intimate as the act itself.

Jude shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. A light sheen of sweat clung to his skin, his face was still warm, a soft flush lingering across his cheeks; his eyes, warm and familiar, searched yours as though trying to gauge what you were thinking.

“You okay?” His voice was soft, caring. “Did you enjoyed it?”

You smiled, a small, almost shy grin breaking across your lips. "More than okay," you admitted, your voice a whisper, feeling the weight of the moment. "It was... perfect."

Jude’s expression softened with relief, his smile easy, and you saw a flicker of pride in his eyes. “Good,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a heartbeat longer. “I love you so much.”

You let out a small laugh, giddy and light, kissing him, still wrapping your mind around the fact that this had just happened. “It was a bit... overwhelming tho,” you added, your cheeks flushing at the confession.

Jude chuckled, his thumb brushing over your hip. “It’s supposed to be, a little bit.” His tone was teasing, but gentle. “But we’ve got time. It’ll only get better.”

His words made your heart skip, and you felt a sense of excitement flutter inside you. You were new to this, but with him, it didn’t feel scary.

You snuggled closer, resting your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong. For now, you were content to just be here, in this quiet, beautiful moment, with him.

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x ex-wife!Reader

SUMMARY — James and Reader have not been on great terms since their divorce, but an emerging situation with their son forces them to put aside their differences and work together and hope that past feelings don't resurface

WARNINGS — hospitalization, chronic illness, swearing, complicated feelings (idk y'all they're divorced what more can I say)

NOTE — Okay so I have so many things to say about this fic, but if I say them all this post will be way too long it already is like this came up as 33 pages in my docs but this is a day late birthday present for @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey who also provided the James pic I hope you had such a fun day and a great year of simping ahead!

Pronounciation — Mahlet = Ma-h-let | Hennock = Hey-knock

Ever since you had become a mother, birthday parties were the bane of your existence. The sugar overload, the loud noises, the cleanup afterwards, all amounted to your own personal hell. Yet, you would move hell or high water for your son to have the most enjoyable party every single year. 

Today was no different, eight years later you were still breaking your back to ensure every small detail was perfect, from the pin the spikes on the stegosaurus to the cake you’d spent at least a month painstakingly training to make. 

A friend of yours, another parent from the school your son Julian went to, came over in the kitchen to give you a hand with some of the snacks. 

“How are you managing here?” she asked and you took a deep breath. 

“Managing is the operative word,” you chuckled. “Kids having fun out there?” 

“Yeah, loads, you’ve outdone yourself again,” she assured you. “Will James be making an appearance?” 

“I stopped asking myself that question after we got divorced,” you said while fixing the plate of vegetables and dip. “He’s supposed to, he promised Julian, but we all know how that ends.” 

There seemed to be a bit of commotion out in the backyard and you tried to assess what was happening from the window, but your suspicions that something was off was confirmed when Julian’s best friend, Hennock, came rushing inside.

“Mrs. Wilson, something’s going on with Julian,” he said and you frowned while your friend followed you outside to see the kids circling around Julian who seemed to be gripping onto his chest. 

“Jay, what’s going on? Are you okay?” you bent down to be closer to his eye-level, trying to understand what was happening to your son. 

“Can’t…” he pointed to his mouth. “Can’t…breathe,” he wheezed. 

Your eyes went wide, but before you could grab him and run for the car he began to cough and you hoped and prayed there was just something caught in his throat that would make its way out, but with the coughing came spatters of red all over your white shirt.

“Mahi,” you looked over at your friend quickly while picking Julian up. You didn’t have to say a word, she already knew what she needed to do. 

Living close to the hospital, it was worth it to drive yourself, that way you didn’t have to wait for an ambulance to get to you. You had made the mental calculations many times before, just in case there was an emergency and now it was finally coming in handy. 

When you got Julian in the car, you checked in on his breathing, it was still laboured, but at least at this point he was getting in the air, even if he was coughing up blood. 

You turned on the car and began driving while calling your ex-husband with one hand. The line rang until you reached voicemail so you called again, expecting at least this time for him to pick up, only to hear the tone once more. 

“Dammit James!” you threw your phone down on the seat next to you knowing you’d deal with him later, now you needed to focus on getting to the hospital without killing either of you. 

Barely paying attention to how your car was parked, you grabbed Julian out of the back seat and ran into the ER with him. 

“Ma’am, what’s going on?” a nurse came and asked you as you put Julian down. 

“My son, he-he’s having trouble breathing and he’s coughing up blood I-I-I don’t know what’s happening.” 

Before you could say a word they had whisked Julian away and another nurse came to ask you some questions about his medical history and any information that may be important to the doctors treating him. 

“Where’s my son?” you asked, “I want to see my son.” 

“Ma’am I’m sorry, but the doctors are working on getting his airway cleared, you can’t be with him right now.” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line and bit back your tongue. There were a million and one things you wanted to say to the nurse, but none of them would help your situation. On the other hand, finding your ex might. 

So instead of finding the waiting room you went over to the elevator and made your way up to the oncology department, briskly walking through the halls until you reached his office. At this point, you didn’t bother knocking, opening the door to see him sitting down over a file and talking with House. 

“Hey Greg,” you said in a fake cheery voice. “Mind giving us the room?” 

“Oh, this is the wife with the kid, did you forget to pay child support?” House asked James. 

“Get out, Greg,” you said warningly and he listened, instead opting to steal the rest of James’ sandwich and slipping past you, while wishing James good luck and letting you slam the door shut behind you. 

“What’s going on?” James asked, clearly confused by your demeanour and appearance. “If this is about the party I didn’t forget I was-wait is that blood,” he stood up from his chair and came over to you. 

“What’s going on is you didn’t pick up your fucking phone,” you said angrily. 

“Hey,” James looked at you sternly. “What is going on?” he repeated his question, this time more pointedly. 

You could feel your lips begin to tremble and your vision became blurred while you shook your head. 

“Who’s blood is on your shirt?” 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “It’s Julian’s.” 

“Julian-I-what happened?” his demeanour changed from frustrated with your attitude towards him to worrying for his son. 

“I-I don’t know he said he couldn’t breathe and then he started coughing up blood and I just picked him up and drove him here a-and now they won’t let me see him.” 

“You drove him?” he asked incredulously. “You didn’t think to maybe call an ambulance?” 

“That’s what you’re hung up on? That I decided to drive because it was faster than getting him an ambulance?” 

“That’s not what I-,” 

“Yes it is,” you stepped back. “I wouldn’t have needed an ambulance if you were there.” 

James sighed and chose to ignore your comment, 

“Where is he?” he asked. 

“Emergency room,” you muttered. “They won’t let me see him, you need to talk to them, say something, anything.” 

James nodded his head, at least you could agree on that. He walked with you out of the office and to the elevator so you could go to the ER together and figure out what the hell was happening to your son. 

When you got down there and James began speaking to the nurses, they informed him that Julian had been moved to the ICU and his respiration was being closely monitored while they ran a few tests to see what had caused the arrest. 

You had to fight to hold yourself upright when they pulled back the curtain and you could see Julian hooked up to all the machines and with a ventilator tube stuck down his throat. You covered your mouth with your hand and shook your head again. This couldn’t be happening, now you were supposed to be cutting into cake and opening presents, not sitting in the ICU. 

You stepped inside with James and he closed the curtain to give you a bit of privacy and decided to look over his chart and see if they had given any relevant information there. Seeing none, he turned his attention over to you, seeing your eyes filled with tears, unable to tear your gaze away from your son. 

James walked over to you and cautiously put a hand on your shoulder, eventually encouraging you to turn around so he could pull you into his arms. You allowed your tears to soak his white coat, gripping onto him so tightly because there was nowhere else to hold. 

You could hear his breathing change, accompanied by the small sniffles and you knew he was doing just as bad as you were right now, wiping the tears from his own eyes as he finally allowed himself to see his son as he was, sick, helpless, vulnerable, and only moments ago, without his dad’s help when he needed him most. 

Your moment was interrupted when you heard the curtain being pulled back and you saw two doctors standing there. You pulled away from James and wiped whatever remaining tears were in your eyes so you could properly address them.

It seemed as though one of the doctors recognized James and when he looked down at the file and saw the name he made the connection internally. 

“Can we talk to you guys out in the waiting room for a moment?” he asked. 

“I don’t want to leave my son,” you shook your head. 

“Ma’am, this is the ICU and the visiting hours are very strictly adhered to, I think your husband maybe got lucky and pulled a few strings so you could see your son, but we need to leave now.” 

“He’s not my husband,” you muttered and reluctantly followed them out of the makeshift room and towards the waiting area. 

“Did you find out what was wrong?” James asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I looked at his chart. You took him for an emergency CT and bloodwork.” 

“We also ran a few other tests,” the doctor began explaining. “From the medical history your, um, ex wife gave I had a suspicion of something so we ran a sweat test to check for elevated chloride levels and it just came back positive.” 

“Chloride levels?” you looked up at James. “What does that mean?” 

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “It means Julian has cystic fibrosis.” 

“I-I’ve heard of that, is it curable?” you asked. 

“I’ll leave you guys with Dr. Liu, he deals with the pediatric cystic fibrosis cases and will be able to answer your questions better than I can,” he wished you a good day and left you alone with the other doctor. 

“Cystic fibrosis is manageable-,” 

“So you can’t cure it,” you reiterated. 

The doctor shook his head, “Unfortunately there is no cure for CF yet, but many people have been able to live longer and happy lives with the medical technology now available.” 

James was silent, taking in all the information that was being presented. 

“How did he get it? Is it contagious or-or was it just always there?” you asked. 

“It’s a genetic condition, so he’s always had it, the symptoms have just gotten to the point where they’re now visible,” the doctor explained.

“I-It’s genetic so one of us is a carrier?” you pointed to you and James. 

“We both are,” James said. “Both parents have to be carriers to pass it down to their child, right?” 

Dr. Liu nodded and you pressed your lips together. 

“C-Can you just tell us what this means for right now?” you asked. “I just think-I think I need a minute.” 

Dr. Liu nodded his head and explained they were giving Julian medication to help with the infection and airway damage that caused him to cough up blood, then they would get him on some bronchodilators to help with his breathing for the time being while they assessed what other issues the cystic fibrosis had potentially caused in his body. He’d have to stay at the hospital for a while, but hopefully could be moved to the pediatric ward within the next day or so.

“We can talk more about what Julian’s medical journey will look like later, I’ll give you guys some time together and if you have any questions, Wilson’s got my pager and knows where my office is.” 

You nodded your head and thanked him quietly as he left the waiting area. You finally sat down on one of the chairs. 

James took the seat next to you and you covered your face with your hands. 

“We couldn’t give him a functional family and a happy home and now we’ve given him a chronic medical condition to top it off.” 

“Blaming ourselves isn’t going to do anything for Julian,” James said. 

“And sitting around here is?” you asked and James sighed. 

“No, no it’s not.” 

You sat there in silence for a little while longer before you noticed James stand up and motion for you to follow him. As much as you didn’t want to listen to him and just sit and wait until they would let you be with Julian again, you got up and followed him to one of the OR supply closets. He used a key to unlock the door and sifted through some materials until he found what he was looking for, pulling out a scrub shirt in your size and handing it over to you. 

You looked down at your own shirt, seeing the red specks of Julian’s blood and closed the door behind your both, pulling your shirt off over your head and handing it to James. You were about to put the other shirt on when you noticed the flecks of dried blood against your chest. 

While you eyes were transfixed on that, James had grabbed an alcohol wipe package from the shelves and tore it open with his teeth, removing the wipe and reaching over to help you clean the blood off yourself. 

“James, I can do it myself,” you reached for the wipe, but he pulled it away. 

“You’ve got some on your neck too, just let me take care of it,” he insisted. 

You knew better than to cause a fight over something trivial like this right now so you put your hands down, watching as James tossed your shirt over his shoulder and carefully began wiping away the specks of your son’s blood off your chest, collarbone, and neck. 

“Have you eaten today?” he asked you while holding your face to tilt it to the side so he could get a spot he’d missed earlier. 

“No, why?” 

“Because it’s his birthday, you’d always forget to eat until dinner and even then it would be scraps from the party until I forced you to eat something better,” he recounted. “Let’s just go grab something from the cafeteria before we go back to the ICU, okay?” 

“Will it make a difference if I say I’m not hungry?” you asked. 

“You can’t take care of Julian if you’re not taking care of yourself.” 

You scoffed and pulled the shirt over your head, “And you’ve suddenly become an expert on taking care of your family?” 

“Believe it or not, we were once happy and there was a reason we got married and decided to have a child together.” 

“And there’s a reason we got divorced too,” you added and opened the door behind you.

You didn’t go to the cafeteria, instead heading back to the ICU waiting room knowing either visiting hours would have to start eventually or they’d move Julian to his own room and you could finally sit with him. 

James clearly hadn’t followed you so you ended up alone again, wringing your hands and waiting for some sort of news. 

Eventually, you felt a bag drop on your lap and you looked up and saw James standing overtop of you. You looked inside and saw a package of a sandwich, a small bag of chips, and a water bottle. 

You knew he was right, that if you didn’t take care of yourself you wouldn’t be able to take care of Julian, so you forced yourself to eat, even if you didn’t want to. 

A little while later, Dr. Liu had returned and informed you that they were moving Julian to the pediatric ward and you could stay with him there in his room. When you joined him there, James had taken off his white coat and tossed it on one of the chairs, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and sitting down next to Julian’ taking one of his hands in his own. 

“Don’t you have patients you need to see?” you asked, sitting on the opposite side of the hospital bed. 

“I told Cuddy I needed the day, someone else is taking care of it for me,” he said, not removing his gaze from Julian. 

With the two of them sitting next to each other like that, you could clearly see the similarities Julian had with his father. They shared the same eyes and nose, and when they smiled they had the same little creases around their eyes. 

You wished that’s what you could have been looking at, them smiling together, instead of the frown etched onto James’ face and Julian still fast asleep while an oxygen mask now delivered the air he needed to help him breathe. 

“Do you know much about cystic fibrosis?” you asked James, brushing your thumb against Julian’s other hand. 

“Only that it mainly affects the digestive system and the respiratory tract,” he explained. “I’m not too familiar with how it's managed, just that there’s regular doctor’s visits and probably some medication and therapies involved.” 

You could feel a small stirring and you looked down and saw Julian’s hand begin to move underneath yours. 

You smiled when you saw his eyes blink open and James was quick to stand up and come closer to him so he had a familiar face to look at while he took in his surroundings. 

“Hey buddy,” James smiled and you could see Julian light up at the sight of his dad. He lifted his hand to try to remove the oxygen mask, but James gently encouraged him not to. “This is giving your lungs an extra hand right now, let’s just keep it on until the doctor tells us it's okay to take it off.” 

“But you’re a doctor,” Julian countered and James chuckled. 

“I am, but I'm not your doctor. I am, however, your dad so you have to listen to me anyways,” he teased and bent down to kiss his son’s cheek and tickle him a little bit in the process. 

“Hey, go easy on him,” you placed a gentle hand on James' arm and he laid off. 

“You know,” James said. “It’s still your birthday.” 

“It is?” Julian asked and you both nodded and James reached down to grab something he’d brought with him. 

“All the presents your friends got you are at home waiting for you to get better so you can open them, but this is what I got for you,” he said. “I was gonna come and bring it to the party, but I think you brought the party to me.” 

Julian laughed a little at that and you rolled your eyes, of course James could make himself look good by not showing up. 

He sat up with the help of his dad and pulled out the tissue paper from the bag to see the present that was hiding underneath. With a big grin on his face, he took out a dinosaur stuffed animal along with a book all about the different species of the Cretaceous period. 

“This is awesome,” Julian grinned. “Thanks dad, I love it.” 

James gave Julian another kiss and you joined them, taking a seat on the bed and glancing over at the book on Julian’s lap. 

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” you asked, fixing the twisted band of the oxygen mask on his face. 

“My throat hurts a little bit,” he admitted. “And I’m kinda hungry.” 

“Let me call a nurse and we’ll see what you can eat,” you said and pressed the button to send someone over from the nurses’ station. 

Meanwhile, James poured Julian a glass of water and helped him take a few sips of it. His throat was probably irritated from being on the ventilator, but his lungs had become stabilized from the use of the bronchodilators. 

The nurse came and you spoke to her about getting Julian something to eat and she said she’d double check with Dr. Liu and then grab him some food. 

“Hey, Jay,” you walked over to the bed and took your son’s hand in yours. “Are you okay to hang out here with dad while I go grab some stuff from home? The doctors said we might hang around here for a few days so I think I need to pack a bag.” 

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Julian nodded. “Are you okay mom?” he reached up and touched your cheek and you realized you'd let a few more tears slip.

“Yeah, I’m just really happy you’re okay,” you wiped the tears away and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “Right, Jamie? We’re both happy he’s okay.” 

James looked over at you with softness reflecting in his eyes at the sound of the nickname he hadn’t heard in a long time and nodded his head. 

“Bring some cake back with you,” Julian whispered. “Even if dad and the doctor say no we can sneak some.” 

You laughed at his plan and gave him another kiss, assuring him you’d pack some in a container to bring for him when you came back.

When you arrived at your home, you thought you might cry at the sight in front of you. The kitchen and living room were completely clean, presents piled neatly on the coffee table along with a new card you didn’t recognize. Coming closer, you noticed the bright marker, signature of eight-year-olds across the country, with the message Get Well Soon Julian! written on it and signed by all his friends who had attended the party. 

You packed the card in your bag along with a few other things and made a mental note to grab a nice thank you gift for Mahlet to thank her for what she had done. 

As promised, you cut a big chunk of cake, enough for the three of you to share, and packed it in a tupperware to bring back to the hospital. 

You grabbed a few changes of clothes for both you and Julian and changed out of the temporary shirt you had on and into something more comfortable for the rest of the evening, making sure everything you needed was in place before heading out and going back to the hospital. 

When you got back to Julian’s room you saw James squished in next to him on the bed, the book he had bought him opened on his lap as he read its contents to Julian. Julian was resting his head against James’ arm and James was doing those big exaggerations he always would whenever he’d read bedtime stories to Julian, emphasizing all the insane details and changing the inflections of his voice in just the right way to make him laugh. 

“I brought cake,” you grinned, holding up the container as you entered the room, holding three plastic forks. “If Dr. Dad says it's okay, we can eat it.” 

“Dr. Dad desperately needs some sugar,” James nodded his head and closed the book for the time being while you took a seat by Julian’s legs and opened the container, handing each of the boys a fork. 

You helped Julian take off his oxygen mask for the time being and placed it off to the side, acutely aware of how his breathing sounded more laboured without it. 

James only snuck in a couple bites of the cake before taking the mask from your side and holding it ready in case Julian needed a bit of an extra hand. 

Just as he had predicted, after a few bites of cake Julian was noticing a bit of a difficulty to get air into his lungs and James held up the mask to his face, allowing him to take a couple deep breaths. 

“What do you think of the cake, Jay?” you asked. 

“Really good, just like everytime you make it,” he grinned. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a great birthday, buddy,” James apologized. “I mean with all your friends and classmates.” 

“What do you mean?” Julian asked. “I think I had a good birthday.” 

“You do?” you frowned curiously, wondering what kind of light he’d seen in the day that you and James as worried parents had somehow missed. “What made it good?”

“We’re sitting eating cake. Together. Just like when I was little,” he said simply and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, looking over at James whose gaze hadn’t left Julian. He almost looked disappointed, at what, you couldn’t place, but at least for the moment Julian was happy and that was all either of you really wanted. 

—

You grabbed your purse from the ground and thanked Dr. Liu for all of the information he had given you and assured you’d be there with Julian at the allocated follow-up time you had arranged. You were just about to leave when James came rushing into the room, apologies spewing out of his mouth for being late. 

“Late? You missed the whole appointment.”

“I-I did?” he said, looking down at his watch and cursing when he saw the time. 

“Jay, sweetheart, why don’t you sit down here,” you moved out of Dr. Liu’s office and set him up on a chair in one of the general waiting areas and handed him his dinosaur book from your purse. “I just need to go have a chat with your dad real quick.” 

Julian nodded and opened up the book, flipping through the pages while you grabbed James’ arm and pulled him into a dead-end hallway so you could speak in private. 

“What the hell took you so long?” you asked firmly. “We waited for twenty minutes before even starting the appointment!” 

“I’m sorry,” James apologized, “I was in the OR with a patient and something went haywire and it took longer than expected to fix it.” 

“Still, you couldn’t have told someone to at least pass on a message?” 

“I was in the middle of saving a patient’s life! What did you want me to do?” 

“I wanted you to be there for your son,” you whispered harshly. “You make promises you can’t keep and I have to watch him get disappointed over and over again. He does not deserve that, especially now.” 

James placed his hands on his hips and said, 

“I am trying to be there, it’s not for lack of effort-,” 

“Well try harder!” you threw your hands up in the air. “You’re an ex-husband James, not an ex-father. You don’t have to show up for me anymore, but you damn well better show up for him.” 

When he said nothing you continued. 

“Believe it or not, you don’t have to work as much as you do James. You chose to do that and right now that’s coming at your son’s expense and he is scared and vulnerable and neither of us know half of what Dr. Liu is talking to us about. Do you know what he said to me when I was confused about the management plan? He said Dad would know what this means. Dad can help us. And he’s right, you would have known and you can help so stop acting like your fucking schedule controls you and get your schedule under control.” 

James was quiet for a moment before he nodded his head, 

“Okay,” he said simply. 

You knew better than to get your hopes up with him and you didn’t have any more energy to argue, so you told him you could talk more later, but right now you were going to take Julian home so he could rest in his own bed and finally open his birthday presents. 

“Is dad coming with us?” Julian asked when you picked him up and began walking away to leave the hospital. 

“No, not this time,” you shook your head. 

“Did you fight with him again?” Julian asked and you pressed your lips together. 

“We just had a disagreement,” you settled on. “You can call him later when he’s done work if you want to talk to him, sounds good?” 

Julian was content with your answer and left it at that. 

Over the next few days, aside from Julian’s call, you didn’t hear much for James and you assumed things were right on track to going back to the way they had always been. You loved your son to pieces, but this was one time you wished his dad would be here to support, working and caring for Julian on top of trying to figure out how to be his at home doctor was already taking its toll and you didn’t know how you’d be able to keep it up. 

One night, you were sitting in the living room reading a book Dr. Liu had recommended. It was detailing strategies for parents with children who had cystic fibrosis. In the middle of your chapter you were interrupted by a knock to your door and you put in your bookmark, wondering who was stopping by this far into the evening. 

Unlocking the door and opening it, you found it hard to hide the surprise in your face when you saw James on the other end. 

“James?” you tilted your head. “I haven’t heard from you at all this week, what’s going on?” 

“I reduced my patient load,” he said, “and I talked to Cuddy about reducing my clinic hours. I still have to do some administrative stuff for the department, but it can be done from home for the most part.” 

“Oh,” you were surprised to say the least. You didn’t realize your outburst the other day had worked. 

“You were right,” he said. “I need to be here for Julian and I can’t do that if my work always comes first.” 

You nodded your head, following along with what he was saying. 

“C-Can I come in and see him?” James asked. “I know our custody agreement has always been all over the place-,” 

You didn’t say anything, simply opening the door wider for him to come inside. 

“He’s asleep in his room,” you said. “When you’re done we can talk some more.” 

James nodded and stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and taking off his jacket, making his way to Julian’s room to sit with him for a moment before joining you in the kitchen. 

“Want something to drink?” you asked and he said some water would be nice. You poured him a glass while waiting for the water to boil for your tea. 

“I saw the book you were reading over there,” he pointed to the couch. “Dr. Liu recommended it to me too, I just finished it the other night.” 

“Show off,” you rolled your eyes and handed him the glass. 

“What I was trying to say is I think something that stood out to me is having consistency and a routine is good, especially when things are new,” James explained. “I don’t think it makes sense for him to be moving back and forth from here to my place.” 

“So you think we should have a home base here?” you confirmed and he nodded. 

“I can come by more often, if there’s days where you need to be at work I can be doing the administrative stuff here after school and take care of Julian until you get back.” 

You pursed your lips and as you heard the kettle click, moved to pour your hot water into the mug you were holding. 

“These are all good ideas,” you started. 

“I’m assuming there’s a but coming?” 

“But I don’t want to give Julian the wrong impression is all.” 

James shook his head. 

“You really need to pick whatever it is you want,” James crossed his arms over his chest. “First I’m not here enough, I don’t put my family first. Now I’m putting my family first and you’re worried Julian’s going to think this means we’re getting back together.” 

“He doesn’t need to get his hopes up for something that’s never going to happen,” you said flatly. 

“Have you ever considered having a conversation with him instead of shielding him from every little thing that might hurt him?” James asked and you rolled your eyes. 

“Clearly every little thing can hurt him!” you pointed over to his room. “He can’t even breathe without help, James. Maybe he needs to be protected.” 

“Stop, just stop,” James ran a hand over his face. “I can’t get into a fight with you every single time we see each other. Julian is just as much my son as he is yours, if this is going to work we need to be able to have a conversation with each other.” 

You took a sip of your tea and said,

“Okay, I’m worried Julian might take the fact that you’re around more the wrong way.” 

James nodded his head, “I hear you, so maybe we should talk to him about it and say I’m coming around more to lend a hand around the house and help take care of him.” 

“Dad? What are you doing here?” as if on cue, Julian had walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes awake and adjusting to the light. 

“Julian, where’s your oxygen mask?” 

“I don’t wanna wear it mom,” he whined. “I don’t like the way it feels on my face.” 

You sighed, having had this conversation at least five times before, you didn’t know what else you could say to convince him. 

“Hey buddy, maybe we should listen to mom on this one,” James suggested. “You know that feeling you’ve got right here,” he pointed to his chest. “That’s only gonna get worse if you don’t wear it and we don’t want to have to go to the hospital again, right?” 

Julian shook his head and sighed, stomping back over to his room to grab the portable machine and place the tube under his nose and around his ears, allowing him to get the right amount of oxygen. 

You looked over at James gratefully and he reached his hand out to yours and gave it a squeeze. It was nice being on the same team even if you had just been arguing. 

When Julian came back he repeated his question to his dad who explained that he was here to talk to you about a few things that would be changing soon and that he’d be around more to help look after him. 

“If you’re going to be here to help look after me can you stay tonight?” Julian asked. “Mom still has some of your clothes in those boxes in her closet.” 

“She does, does she,” James looked over at you. 

“It was the stuff you wanted to give away and I never got around to it,” you said. “There’s probably a hoodie and some pyjama pants in there if you want to stay.” 

James pressed his lips together and sighed, 

“You know buddy as much as I would love to have a sleepover with you I don’t think it’s a good idea if I spend the night here,” James said. “But I can tuck you in again and wait until you fall asleep to go back home.” 

“Mom, can you come too?” Julian asked and you nodded your head. 

James stood up and helped Julian carry his portable oxygen machine back to his bedroom and you trailed behind them, watching as James carefully tucked Julian back under the covers while peppering his face with small kisses, like he would do when Julian was younger and just learning to sleep in his own room. 

“Dad that tickles,” Julian giggled and James simply smiled and continued littering his face with kisses. 

“Too bad. I love you too much; I just can’t get enough of you.” 

“Alright, move it,” you nudged James from the opposite side of the bed and took your turn. “It must tickle having two parents who love you so damn much.” 

“It does,” Julian’s laughter died out as you both finally left him alone, sitting on either side of his mattress. 

You both wished him a good night and waited as he slowly fell back asleep. When his breathing was steady and his grip loosened on yours and James’ hands you took it as your cue to leave the room. 

James placed a hand on your shoulder as you stepped out of the room, prompting you to turn around and face him. 

“I’ll come by tomorrow and we can work out a schedule or something, does that sound good?”

You nodded your head, 

“Yeah, I have a work thing tomorrow in the evening, I was gonna ask Mahlet, Hennock’s mom, if she could come look after Julian, but if you’re around…” 

“I’ll come for dinner and then do the bedtime routine,” he said and you smiled. 

“James I’m begging you-,” 

“I won’t be late,” he assured. “No surgeries planned and I’m ending my shift with clinic duty.” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded your head. 

“I’ll see you then,” you patted his arm and he showed himself out. 

You walked back to the kitchen grabbing your now lukewarm cup of tea and sitting back on the couch picking up your book and opening it, reading until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, falling asleep right there on the couch. 

—

Over the next few months, you, James, and Julian had developed some sort of routine around school, work, and doctor’s appointments. A part of you thought you were spending more time together as a family than when you were married. 

Today you had to go in for work, also having reduced your hours, but in a way that you were working in tandem with James. When you arrived back home the house smelled like warm spices and big plates of home-cooked food. 

You dropped your keys on the entryway table, next to James’ keys and wallet and took off your jacket, hanging it up before coming to the kitchen and seeing Julian and Hennock doing their homework at the island. 

“Mr. Wilson, what is the difference between these two words?” Hennock asked, holding up his paper so James could see while cutting some vegetables for a salad. 

“I think the first one is the kind of principal in your school that looks after all the students and the other one is… man, that’s hard to describe. Hey, how do you describe what principle is to an eight-year-old?” James asked you. 

“I think that kind of principle is something that guides the way people behave or act,” you sat next to Julian and Hennock. “Like a principle is the foundation for something that people believe in.” 

Hennock and Julian still looked a little confused by your explanation so you tried to give an example. 

“So a principle could be to be kind to everyone we meet and so people who believe in that principle will try to follow it.” 

That put it in better terms for them to understand and there was a chorus of oh’s before they looked back down at their papers and scribbled down a few things to answer the questions they were asked. 

“They learning about homonyms?” you asked James and he nodded.

“I talked to Mahlet,” James said, changing the topic. “Hennock’s gonna stay for dinner and she’ll come pick him up around seven.” 

“Sounds good, it’s always nice to have you, Henny,” you smiled and ruffled your hand through his coarse curly hair in an endearing way. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Wilson,” Hennock smiled. 

James was now over the stove, stirring what looked like a soup before giving it a taste and figuring something might be missing.

“Can you taste this?” James asked. “I don’t know why, but every time I make it there’s something off.” 

You took a spoon and tried a little bit of the broth, looking down to see that he was making matzah ball soup and immediately when you tasted it you knew what was missing. 

“I know what it is,” you said. “But you can’t tell your mom I told you. She swore me to secrecy.” 

“My mother told you this?” James asked and you nodded. 

“When we were getting married she wanted me to know how to make it the way she would for you when you were sick.” 

“And she didn’t think to tell her own son how to do this?” he seemed thoroughly offended, but all you could do was laugh. 

“It’s tarragon. I don’t think it’s something everyone adds, it was just something special she’d put in hers to make it a little different. Here,” you reached into the spice cupboard and took out a jar of dried tarragon and took a bit of the herb out of the container and crushed it in your hands before sprinkling it into the soup. James mixed it in and gave the broth a minute to soak in the flavour before trying it again and shaking his head. 

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!” 

“I’ll let you finish having your little meltdown,” you patted his back. “I’m gonna hop in the shower quickly and we can eat when I get out.” 

“Did Dad forget the tarragon?” Julian asked and you nodded your head. 

“Wow, so everyone knew, but me?” James asked and you nodded your head with a shrug. 

“Sorry, I guess your mom has favourites, or something.” 

“Figures,” James teasingly rolled his eyes and you chuckled, waving him off and going to take a shower and change into something a little more comfortable. 

When you came back outside they had migrated to the dining room table, each with a bowl of soup in front of them and a plate of salad. You sat on the same side as James since Julian and Hennock were already sitting next to each other and the boys happily recounted the details of their school day and playdate with you while everyone ate their soup and salad. 

“What did you do at work, Dad?” James asked. 

“Oh, nothing interesting,” he shook his head. “I think your mom was doing bigger things than me.” 

“Bigger than treating people with cancer? You flatter me,” you drank some of your soup’s broth. “I had a meeting with a big company about a building they’re making.” 

“Did you go do a site visit?” James asked and you nodded. 

“Engineers are being a pain in the butt, keep making me adjust the design, but we’ll see who gets the last laugh.” 

“Mom always does,” Julian told Hennock and they chuckled along with James. 

After dinner James helped you clear up some of the dishes before heading out and leaving you with the boys. When Mahlet came by to pick Hennock up you invited her in for tea and a little visit. 

“Thanks for coming to stay with Julian the other night,” you said after handing her a mug. “For once, I was the late one and James had an emergency come up so it was a huge help.” 

“And how are things now, with the co-parenting?” 

You took a sip of your tea, “Weirdly good,” you admitted. “We don’t argue as much which is nice and Julian gets to see his dad more.” 

“Do you think maybe you’re not fighting because he’s changing?” she asked. 

“I don’t wanna go down that path,” you shook your head. “If Jay hadn’t been diagnosed things would still be the same as they always were.” 

“But they’re not. More often than not people show their true colours during times of difficulty.” 

You took a deep breath and sighed, “If that was the case I would have seen something worth keeping when my marriage was falling apart.” 

Mahlet nodded, seeing as you had a point and your conversation was halted as they boys came out of Julian’s room. 

Mahlet and Hennock left shortly afterwards and you quickly got Julian ready for bed, tucking him in and then going to get settled yourself. You looked through a few client papers for work before calling it a night and turning off your bedside lamp, curling into bed and falling asleep. 

Your sleep was interrupted in the middle of the night by a tapping on your shoulder and when you blinked your eyes open you saw Julian standing next to your bed. 

“Jay, sweetheart, is something wrong?” you asked. 

“My stomach really hurts,” he told you and you sat up, motioning for him to come sit with you on the bed. 

“Where?” you asked, turning on the light and he pointed to the upper right corner of his abdomen. If you remembered correctly that wasn’t exactly where his stomach was and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the yellowing whites of his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, I think we have to go to the hospital.” 

“The hospital? What happened?” Julian looked worried and you assured him everything would be alright. 

“We’re just being safe,” you told him. “I’m gonna call your dad, maybe he can tell us a little bit more of what’s going on. Do you feel good enough to get your jacket and shoes and your hospital bag?” 

Julian nodded his head and you gave him a kiss and he went off to grab his things while you did the same, but also taking your cell phone and calling James. 

It took a few rings, but he eventually picked up. 

“Hey, did something happen?” he asked and you could still hear the sleep thick in his voice. 

“I think something’s wrong with Julian. I’m gonna take him to the hospital, can you meet us there?” 

“Yeah, of course, I’m on my way.” 

“James…the whites of his eyes were yellow. Does he have jaundice?” you asked.

“It’s possible, was there anything else?” 

“Yeah, he mentioned stomach pain, but he pointed to like his upper right abdomen, I think,” you explained while grabbing your bag and putting on some socks. 

“Makes sense as a liver issue,” you could hear his car starting in the background. “If he’s presenting symptoms now I would call an ambulance.” 

“James-,” 

“Just trust me,” he said. “Call 911.” 

“Okay,” you nodded your head and hung up, calling the emergency services and explaining the situation to them and then to Julian while you waited for them to arrive. 

James made the right call, seeing as while you were in the ambulance Julian began to throw up and the paramedics obviously handled it better than you could have if you had driven him. 

When you arrived at the ER they wheeled Julian away and you began getting flashbacks to when you first brought him in. 

“Where are you taking him?” you called after them, but no one answered you. “What the hell kind of hospital is this?! Where are you taking my son?!” 

“Ma’am they're taking your son to do a liver biopsy,” one of the nurses came back and informed you. “We need you to sign this consent form.” 

You nodded your head and took the pen from her hand, signing it, but just as you were about to ask her a question she ran off to give them the okay. 

You could feel your anger and worry bubbling inside your throat and you wanted to let it out in a scream and you were about to go running after her, but before you could you felt someone grab your wrist and pull you back. 

“James let me go,” you said warningly, looking back at your ex-husband. 

“No,” he stated just as firmly. 

“James-,” 

“I am not going to let you do something you’re going to regret,” he said and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, even when you pushed to get away. 

“James, let me go.”

“No,” he repeated and simply held onto you tighter. 

“Let me-,” your voice broke and you stopped pushing away. “Please, Jamie, please I just want to see him,” you cried into his shirt and he squeezed you so tight you thought you might get bruises in your arm from the way he was holding you. 

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You brought him here and he’s going to be fine.” 

“I can’t do this anymore, James. I can't be his mom and his doctor and they can’t expect me to wait out here while they drag him away and ask me to consent to God knows what.” 

James didn’t know what to tell you, instead he just continued to hold you close, rubbing his hands up and down your back, and pressed a soft kiss against your temple. 

You wrapped your arms around him and finally let yourself fully sink into his embrace, hating yourself for how much you liked it and how good it made you feel while your son was in some back corner of the ER getting a piece of his liver biopsied.

Eventually James pulled away from you, helping you dry your tears on the sleeve of his sweater and walking with his arm wrapped around you to the waiting area. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but it was possible that you had dozed off once or twice against James’ arm, waiting to hear some sort of news from the ER doctor. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson?” 

Your eyes blinked open when James gently shook you awake. 

“That’s us,” he said. “Is Julian okay?” 

“Your son has a mild case of cirrhosis,” the doctor explained. “Due to his cystic fibrosis diagnosis we believe this is due to clogging and inflammation in his bile ducts.” 

“What does that mean for him? Does he need surgery to fix it?” you asked, fighting back a tired yawn. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” the doctor nodded. “It’s good you caught it early, there’s minimal damage to his liver so far and he’s still growing which means his liver is too. We can get him into an OR tomorrow if you consent to the surgery.” 

You looked over at James and he nodded his head. You trusted him and told the doctor you would sign the papers as soon as you could see Julian. 

“He’s been moved to the pediatric ward for now and Dr. Liu has been informed of the development. He should be in touch with you tomorrow.” 

“Thank you,” James said and when the doctor left, he helped you up and you began the walk up to the pediatric ward. 

When you arrived a nurse pointed you in the direction of his room and after each pressing a kiss to Julain’s forehead you sat on the seat bench together. 

“We should sleep,” James said, but you had a hard time imagining how that would be possible. 

“I’m having a hard time working out the logistics,” you admitted. 

“Come on, it’ll be just like on the way back from our honeymoon,” he insisted, recalling your extremely delayed flight on the way back from France, causing you to sleep with your head on James’ lap, stretched out along the airport chairs. 

You were too tired to argue or try and find another way, so you leaned down and rested your head against his legs, closing your eyes and sighing when you felt his hand rub up and down in long motions along the side of your body. Sleep could not have come quicker.

—

“Mom…Mom, Dad?” 

Julian rolled his eyes when he received no answer and grabbed the stuffed animal you had placed next to him when he’d come into the room and threw it at his sleeping parents, nailing his dad in the face. 

“Oh, God, mhm, wake up,” James shook you while he raised his hands to rub his face.

“Huh?” you opened your eyes and pushed yourself off of James’ lap. “Oh crap, my back. Remind me not to listen to you when you talk about doing something I did ten years ago.” 

“Julian, did you throw Steggy at my face?” James asked, picking up the stuffed animal from where it had fallen on you. 

“You weren’t getting up,” Julian shrugged his shoulders. 

“Julian,” you chastised and took the dinosaur from James’ hand. “You could have hurt your dad’s important doctor-face,” you joked and rubbed your hand all over James’ face making Julian laugh. 

“Okay, okay,” James moved your hand away and gave you a look. 

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” you yawned and moved from the bench to the side of his bed. 

“A little better,” he said. “Did the doctors fix what was wrong?” 

“Not yet,” James shook his head and came to sit next to you and placed a hand on Julian’s. “You’re gonna have to go in for surgery today.” 

“A surgery?” Julian looked a little nervous. “Like cut me open?” 

“It’ll be just a line right here,” James drew it with his finger along Julian’s abdomen. “They’re going to fix a part of you called your bile duct and then sew you right back up and you’ll be good as new.” 

“Is it dangerous?” he asked. 

You looked over at James, a small note telling him to lie to make him feel better. He didn’t need to know all the details. 

“No,” James shook his head. “You’re gonna be fine and your mom and I will be here the whole time.” 

“Promise?” Julian whispered. 

“Swear on it,” James leaned in towards his son and snuck a kiss to his cheek. “We love you, buddy.” 

“I love you guys too.” 

Dr. Liu came by a little while later to inform you what time the surgery was scheduled for and he helped make Julian feel a lot better about the procedure. When it was finally time for him to go, you were a nervous wreck, but tried not to let it show for Julian’s sake, instead just pressing a big kiss to his forehead and telling him you’d be waiting for him once he got out. 

It only took about fifteen minutes of your pacing to get James to grab onto your arm and make you stop. 

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the ground,” he said. 

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” you admitted. “If I sit I’m gonna fidget, if I stand I’m going to pace.” 

“Then come on, let’s go to my office for a second, grab a coffee and a snack and then we can come back out and wait,” he suggested. 

You agreed to his idea so he stood up and you walked side by side to his office, passing House who had some comment about your dishevelled appearance together. 

“You’re an interesting man, Greg,” you shook your head at him. “You can’t think of any other reason we might be here?” 

House was silent so James explained, 

“Julian’s in surgery right now. He’s got cirrhosis.” 

“Ah so not a late night ex-wife rendez-vous. Can’t get ‘em right all the time,” he shrugged and you chuckled. “I hope the kid’s alright.” 

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you admitted. 

He raised his brows and lifted his cane to say goodbye, letting you and James continue your walk to his office. 

“House mind that you’re not spending as much time here?” you asked. 

“No, he just bothers me more when I am around,” James said while opening the door and letting you inside. 

He went towards his desk and pulled out a few packages of snacks tossing you one and you shook your head when you saw the label. 

“You still eat these? I thought the FDA recalled them?” you asked sarcastically. 

“I’m sorry I have better taste in food than you do,” he said right back. 

“Right, this is food,” you chuckled. “And if you have such good taste why didn’t your mom tell you about her secret ingredient?” 

“That’s cold,” he pointed to you with a bag of chips in his hand. 

“No, it’s true. Just like your dad telling me I was his favourite wife of yours,” you opened the bag James had tossed you. 

“Just shut up and eat your snack,” James chuckled and you listened to him, beginning to eat a little something, not realizing how hungry you were until the food made its way to your stomach. 

“You got another one of these?” you asked and he nodded, passing it to you when you were finished with the first one. 

“Feeling a little better?” James asked and you nodded your head. 

“Hey James?” you said, unsure of how you’d gotten to this point, but you were too exhausted to stop yourself from saying it. “I want you to move back in.” 

“You want me to do what?” he raised his brows and looked at you stunned. 

“I want you to move back in with me and Julian,” you said. “It’s becoming pretty clear to me that it’s safer to have two people around when possible than not and you’re already around all the time now.” 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “I mean you didn’t want to give Julian the wrong idea about us.” 

“Our lives changed the second we got that diagnosis. I think we need to change along with everything else.” 

You couldn’t believe that just barely twelve hours ago you were telling your friend there was no chance James had changed, but here you were saying things that had proved you had changed. Things you wouldn’t have dreamt of saying a year ago. 

“Okay,” James nodded. “I’ll move back in.” 

You just silently hoped you wouldn’t regret asking. 

Waiting for Julian to get out of surgery was a little easier now that you had some food in your stomach and you decided to wait on coffee until you got the note from the surgeon that everything had gone well. 

As James had continued to assure you almost a hundred times, the surgery went fine and before you knew it you were back in Julian’s room watching him sleep off the anaesthetic. 

“You know he looks like you when he sleeps,” James said from the bench while you sat on the bed next to Julian. 

“He does?” 

“Yeah, his nose does that same scrunchy thing when he sniffles and when he snores-,” 

“Hey, I only snore when I’m congested,” you said defensively. 

“I never minded,” James smiled. “I thought it was cute when you sounded like an old man.” 

“Yeah, but you’re not fond of all my old man characteristics,” you turned around to face him, still holding Julian’s hand in yours. 

“All your old man characteristics?” James furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“You told me I argued like an old man. Stubborn and could only see my own way. And I fought dirty.” 

“You sure did,” James nodded. “If you brandishing my mother’s clear favouritism shows anything, it’s definitely that you fight dirty, but I never said I disliked that about you.” 

“Really? Near the end I thought there was a lot you disliked about me.” 

James shook his head, “No, I was just upset and you were passionate. It wasn’t like my other marriages where things just…fizzled.” 

“We did go out with a bang,” you inhaled deeply. 

“If it weren’t for Julian… do you think we’d…” 

You shook your head. 

“No, we probably never would have seen each other again. Another old man trait, I hold a pretty mean grudge.” 

James pressed his lips together and looked over at his sleeping son. 

“I’m happy we had him,” he said quietly. “Even if we didn’t work out.” 

“Me too,” you agreed, looking over at Julian quietly snoring, just like his dad had said. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Julian’s nose watching him scrunch it up, making you smile. It was a miracle that two such flawed individuals could make a child so perfect. 

—

“Alright, he is asleep, but I do warn you it took some bribery so you’ll have to buy him another dinosaur book to read to him at night,” you walked out of Julian’s room, dusting your hands off like you’d just finished a heavy labour job. 

“I’ll run to the bookstore tomorrow,” James nodded and you fell onto the couch next to him and sighing as you sunk into the plush fabric before noticing what he was doing. 

“Where did you pull these out of?” you asked with a soft chuckle. 

“I was just clearing up the closet in the guest bedroom and I found a box of these,” he picked up the albums. “Look at this one.” 

He placed the book of photos on your lap and you smiled seeing as it was Julian’s baby album, filled with small mementos and little notes you and James had made in the margins. 

“Oh my God, Mom’s first day home, she looks like an angel,” you read from the side. “And my response: I look like I just got hit by a bus, cut it out.” 

“You can still read my chicken scratch writing?” James asked. 

“My most useless talent as I like to call it,” you nodded. “You wrote a lot in here.” 

“I used to bring it with me to work cause I missed you guys so much,” he admitted. “Made me feel closer to you.” 

You read through some of the notes in the book, chuckling a little at some of the written back and forth you had. Eventually you got to the family portraits you’d had taken a few months after Julian was born, smiling softly to yourself. 

You remembered the day well, you felt like you hadn’t slept in weeks, James was just getting off of a twelve-hour shift and you were almost late to your appointment with the photographer. You were worried everything was going to look terrible and you’d barely had enough time to do your hair or makeup, but James had silenced your worries with a kiss and assured you the pictures would be fine. 

In the end most of them were terrible, but the photographer managed to get two shots, one of you and James smiling down at Julian in your arms and another immediately after where you were looking up and smiling at each other. 

“That session was a shitshow,” you recalled and James agreed. “We did get a few nice things out of it though.” 

You looked back down at the pile of albums in front of you and noticed a large white one, tucked under a few things and even though nothing good could come of it, you pulled it out from the bottom of the pile, carefully blowing off the dust and turning the first page. 

Centerfold, just like you remembered it, was a picture of you and James on your wedding day. You leaned further back into the couch and James scooched in closer to get a look. 

You both looked younger in the picture, with that spark of je ne sais quoi in your eyes. 

“I told you there was a reason we got married,” he said quietly, his hand brushing the corner of the photo. 

“Yeah, we loved each other,” you said. “That was the reason.” 

“Same reason we decided to have Julian,” he added. 

You could feel your breathing become a little more shallow and a tightness in your chest as James spoke about Julian. You remembered the conversations so clearly, like you’d had them yesterday, caught between happy and passionate kisses while James made some dirty jokes about getting you pregnant. 

That was back when he still couldn’t get enough of you. Before things changed and he slowly distanced himself until it felt like it was just you and Julian against the rest of the world, and not the three of you like he had promised all those nights throughout your pregnancy. 

You wondered quietly to yourself what had changed? What had become so unbearable that there was distance in the first place? There was never a lack of love on your end which is why this was dangerous. 

At least when there was distance you could be angry with him, you could go to bed at night and not remember all the little things that made you love him in the first place. He wasn’t there as a constant  reminder that you loved his cooking, or even just your banter together. More importantly, it was giving you new reasons to feel that fluttering feeling in your stomach. 

You’d always loved how he’d interact with Julian, but now that you got to see it day in and day out, it made it harder to weigh that against the cons of everything. Most notably, this was the beginning of the end. If you let yourself fall you would both crash and Julian would be caught in the middle once again. 

You tried to distract yourself by flipping through the album photos to find some funny old picture of a relative or maybe even an embarrassing moment to tone down whatever it was that looking at that picture was making you feel. 

All you could focus on was how in every picture, almost without fail, James was looking over at you. Rarely into the camera along with everyone else. He was enamoured, that was the only word to describe it, and oh how much you missed that look. 

You made the mistake of tearing away your gaze from the pictures, looking up at James instead, and for a moment you thought just maybe you saw that same look in his eyes. But no. It couldn’t have been. The dim light of the lamp must have been playing tricks on you. 

Finally you closed the album and put it back down, unsure of what feelings might resurface if you opened another one. Your honeymoon, family dinners and pictures were all just reminders of the happy times, not what came after.

James did what you didn’t want to, grabbing another album and sifting through the pages until he found what he was looking for, taking a picture out of its protective sleeve and showing it to you. 

“Can I keep this one?” he asked. 

You took it from his hands, examining it while your fingers precariously held the edges of the photograph. 

It was a silly picture, something you had taken while you were travelling. James got someone to take the camera, but along with snapping a few shots while you were posed with smiles they caught a few candids, most notably, James kissing your cheek while you laughed and tried to squirm out of his grasp. 

Your finger gently brushed over the spot on the photo where James’ lips were against your cheek before nodding your head. 

“Sure, you can have it,” you handed him back the picture and patted your hands against your legs, preparing to stand up. “I should get to bed.”

“I’ll be out here for a while longer if you need anything.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile and stood up, walking towards your bedroom. When you closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding and ran a hand across your face. 

Maybe Julian was never the one at risk of getting the wrong idea.

—

Waking up in the middle of the night always made you feel uneasy. Especially if Julian was the one waking you up. The chance that you’d have to drive to the hospital or call an ambulance was high and you hated the fear and worry that came along with any possible complications. 

Tonight, you woke up on your own accord. Your heart was beating inside your throat and your stomach felt like it was housing a group of persistent butterflies. 

You glanced over at the clock and saw the time, flashing in red. 

3:07

You took a deep breath trying to steady your heart rate and breathing before peeling away your blanket and kicking your feet over the side of the bed. You grabbed a different pair of pyjamas from your dresser and walked into the washroom, tossing them on the far end of the floor while you stripped down and turned on the water for the shower. 

When you stepped inside you hissed initially at the cold, but forced yourself to become fully submerged under the water, closing the curtain behind you. Your muscles clenched as your body adjusted to the temperature, and when the time finally came you let your thoughts and dreams become washed away by the water coming out of the shower head. 

You were simply standing there, letting the water fall on your face when you heard the click of the door opening. 

“Julian, sweetie,” you sighed, turning around so you could speak. “Maybe you should go to your dad if something’s wrong, I’ll come out in a sec.” 

“No need,” you heard a voice that did not belong to your son. 

“James? I’m in the shower. What are you doing?” you asked incredulously, feeling the need to cover yourself up even though there was a curtain blocking his view. You felt exposed nonetheless. 

“It’s three in the morning, I thought something was wrong, I came to check on you,” he explained. 

“And what were you doing up?” you asked. 

“Got in late. There was an emergency at the hospital after you guys went to sleep, I dealt with it and just came back.”

You stepped under the running water again, washing the water over your face with your hands. 

“So, is everything okay?” 

“Peachy,” you said sarcastically, leaning against the wall of the shower. 

“Nobody ever says peachy when things are okay,” James pushed further and you sighed, moving to sit down on the floor of the shower, still positioned under the water. 

“I just had a dream, that’s all,” you said, watching as the water hit your toes and the ground around you. 

“A bad dream?” he asked. 

“No, it was more like… déjà vu.”

James sighed, and rubbed his hands on his legs. 

“Was it about us?” 

He took your silence as a yes. 

James didn’t really know what to say, his hands were clasped together as he leaned  forward sitting on the bathroom counter. 

“You’re not gonna ask what it’s about?” you hugged your knees close to your chest. 

“Would you tell me?” 

“Maybe…I don’t know,” you mumbled. 

There was another moment of silence before James spoke up again, 

“What was it about?” 

You turned to face the water with your eyes closed again, gathering the courage to speak. 

“It started when I told you I was pregnant,” you said softly. “Like the memory replayed in my head, exactly how it happened.” 

“I remember that day,” you heard the soft smile in his voice as he spoke. “You took the test at work and when it came back positive you came straight to the hospital to tell me.” 

“I was barely two steps inside your office when I blurted it out, you were eating lunch and had that stupid look on your face with a mouth full of sandwich,” you chuckled to yourself.

“I almost choked on that,” James shook his head. “And I just remember running up to you and freaking out.”

“And then when you were done freaking out and everything sunk in you kissed me, and you told me you loved me, and we cried because we made a child. Our love did that.” 

You reached forward and turned the shower off, pushing yourself up on your feet and taking a deep breath before pulling back the curtain. You had told him what you were thinking. You couldn’t get any more exposed than that.

James looked stunned for a moment and it didn’t go unnoticed how his eyes raked up and down your figure. 

“Get me the robe, would you?” you motioned to the back of the door and he jumped down grabbing the robe and holding it out for you so you could place your arms into the sleeves and wrap the towelled fabric around you, trying it off with the belt. 

When you turned your head to look back at James, you could tell at least you’d succeeded in raising his heart rate, much like he was doing for you recently. 

You moved to go sit on the closed toilet while James retook his spot on the counter. 

“Do you remember when Julian was born?” he whispered. 

“I like it was yesterday. I can’t believe it’s been eight years,” you nodded your head. 

He was having trouble holding your gaze and you wondered what he was about to say. 

“I-I screwed up,” his voice was soft, almost hurt, like it pained him to think about what he had done. “When you were resting afterwards the nurse asked me if we were going to do a newborn screening. We hadn’t talked about it, but you were so tired and it was such a hard labour…” he swallowed thickly, his voice wavering slightly, remembering the birth. It wasn’t easy by any means and James had often thought that the hardest thing he’d ever had to watch was you in that much pain. “I told her we weren’t going to do it. I just didn’t want Julian to leave and h-he looked so perfect I never thought anything could have been wrong with him.” 

James took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, “I am a doctor and I didn’t get a newborn screening for my son, what the hell kind of father does that make me?” 

“Oddly enough, I think it makes you a good one,” you admitted. 

“Even though we could have known about this years before? We could have gotten him treatment, medication, therapies, all sooner?” he looked back at you confused. 

“You said it yourself, Jamie. He was perfect for us. Still is.” 

James nodded his head and looked forward at the opposite wall. You stood up and walked over towards him, reaching out a hand to gently hold his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek while he looked at you. 

“I don’t blame you for this,” you whispered. “I don’t blame you and I don’t think you’re a bad father.” 

“I know,” he murmured, “but I do.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, not knowing what other comfort you could offer. 

James leaned in a little to your touch, sitting up straighter when it was gone, trying to play it off like he hadn’t been missing it and craving it as much as you. 

You were about to say something when you heard a knock on the washroom door, and this time it had to be Julian. 

“Mom? Dad, are you in here too?” you could hear his small sounding voice, a little strained and worried so you quickly assured him you were both inside and opened the door. 

“Sweetheart, what happened?” you asked, noticing his tear-stained face. 

“I just had a bad dream,” he sniffed and wiped his eyes. 

You kissed away his tears first before assuring him everything would be fine, you and James were there to take care of him. 

“Why don’t you go and lay down on my bed with your Dad?” you suggested. “I’ll get dressed and come join you.” 

Julian nodded and made his way over to your bed while you went to quickly speak to James. 

“It’ll be good for you. Both of you,” you told him. 

“You don’t mind?” 

“Just this once.” 

James thanked you with a kiss to your cheek and left the adjoining washroom, closing the door behind him and giving you a minute to get changed and deal with anything you needed to before going back to bed. 

When you opened the door and came back into your room, you saw James under the covers with Julian pressed close to him, their foreheads resting together while James told him everything was going to be alright and he could go back to sleep. 

You slipped in under the covers, sandwiching Julian between you both, letting his back rest against your chest while you pressed a kiss to his hair. 

One hand was tucked under your pillow and another was draped over Julian, and your fingers carefully placed over top of James’. 

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Julian asked his dad. 

“Right next to you,” he kissed his nose. “Now try to get some sleep, okay?” 

Julian nodded his head and yawned and you whispered a quiet goodnight to bed him and his dad before letting your eyes close, silently smiling when you could feel James’ hand finally hold your own. 

—

“You guys, relax, he’s going to be fine,” Mahlet placed a hand on both yours and James’ shoulders while you spewed out your worries. “It’s one night, I have the whole list of things he needs and I’ve taken care of him before, right? It’s just at my house this time so the boys can have a sleepover and you two can have a bit of a break.” 

“She’s right,” James sighed. “I’m still worried out of my mind, but she’s right.” 

“Mahi, are you sure you don’t want us to come even for a little bit?” you asked. 

“Absolutely, if something happens I’ll call an ambulance and then you, but Julian’s been good for months now, he can survive one night away from home,” she assured you. 

“Thank you, Mahlet. I’m sure Julian and Hennock will have a great time tonight. Just call us when he’s ready to be picked up tomorrow morning,” James said. 

James wrapped his arm around you, giving you a squeeze knowing you were still uneasy about this, but deep down you knew Mahlet was right. The chances of something going wrong at this point were small and you’d had enough time since your last hospital visit to even consider doing something like this. 

“You boys ready?” James called and Julian came rushing out of the room with his bag in hand, Hennock following close behind him. 

“You have fun tonight, okay?” you bent down and gave Julian a kiss. “And if anything happens or you feel sick, or are having trouble breathing, tell Mahlet, okay?” 

“I know, Mom. Dad already told me this like fifteen times,” Julian chuckled. 

You looked up at James and he shrugged. 

“Alright, well you guys better go before I change my mind,” you crossed your arms over your chest and that was all the permission the boys needed to run off, leaving Mahlet to say goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind her. 

You sighed and turned around, looking at James who had his hands shoved into his pockets. 

“You hungry?” he asked. 

“I could eat,” you nodded your head. 

“Why don’t we make something for dinner together?” he suggested. 

You looked at the clock and smiled, “I think we’ve got enough time for pizza, what do you think?” 

“I think that’s a great plan,” James agreed. “I can start on the dough and you get the sauce and toppings?” 

You gave him a thumbs up before putting your hand out to high-five him, noticing how your fingers so easily intertwined before you walked apart and let go. 

James rolled up his sleeves and took off his watch, placing it on the small jewelry tray you kept by the sink for when you were washing dishes, while you went to the fridge and began pulling out all the things that could make good pizza toppings. 

Moving to the sink to wash some vegetables, you noticed James’ watch resting there. You didn’t pay much attention when he was wearing it, but now you realized why it looked extra familiar. It was one you had gotten him as an anniversary present after your first year married. 

“You still wear that?” you pointed with your eyes to the watch. 

“It’s my favourite watch, of course I wear it,” he nodded while portioning the flour into a large bowl.

“Even with that engraving?” you raised a questioning brow. 

“Dearest Jamie, Here’s to the first of many happy anniversaries. Love forever, Your Wife,” he recited the engraving back to you. 

“I don’t know why you do that to yourself,” you chuckled a little, looking down into the sink. 

“Yeah, well why do you still go by Mrs. Wilson?” 

“Easier to keep the name than change it again,” you partially lied, it wasn’t the full truth, but it was what you had been telling yourself ever since the divorce was finalized. 

James could sense you were lying, but he knew the only way to get you to open up would be to let himself be open with you. 

“The watch is my favourite because you gave it to me. Functionally it sucks and it's uncomfortable, but you went out of your way to get me something that looked nice and that’s why I love it.” 

You smiled a little to yourself, but kept your head facing the sink and continued to wash the vegetables. 

“You’re not going to say anything?” he inquired. 

“Do I have to?” you asked. 

“That’s normally how a conversation works,” he remarked and you chuckled. 

“What do you want me to say?” you asked. 

“Honestly, the real reason why you kept your married name,” he said plainly. 

You sighed, “It wasn’t a full lie. If I went back to my maiden name Julian and I wouldn’t have the same last name it just makes things complicated and confusing and I didn’t want to deal with it, but,” you added, “I always kind of liked the sound of Mrs. Wilson and even though I was pissed at you all the time I still liked that there was one thing aside from Julian connecting us. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t want to end up like Sam or Bonnie just…detached, like there was barely a trace that you were even there.” 

“It’s a fingerprint,” James said. “Mine.” 

“Yeah, even though it's small for who we were to each other, it's the fingerprint you left on my life.” 

James pressed his lips together and opened his mouth to say something before shutting it and evaluated how he was going to speak, 

“Can I ask you something?” he settled on. 

“Sure,” you nodded, moving over to the cutting board and placing yourself on the opposite side of the kitchen island. 

“Did…Did you ever stop loving me?” 

Your smile faltered and James noticed the change in your demeanor, quickly retracting his question. 

“You know what, forget I asked,” he shook his head and continued to knead the dough. 

There was a moment of silence before you spoke again. 

“I didn’t, but I got tired of not being loved back.” 

James stopped what he was doing and looked up at you with concern. 

“You thought I stopped loving you?” he asked.

“James, I was wife number three. Didn’t take much to connect the dots and see you got tired of me,” you said bluntly. “I wanted to know if I could count on you, and it was starting to feel like maybe I couldn’t. Then the divorce happened and everything after that just made me feel like I was right.” 

James chewed on the inside of his cheek and remained silent. 

“You didn’t fight for me,” you said quietly. “You fought for joint custody, but you didn’t fight for me. You just…accepted it.” 

“I…I didn’t know you wanted me to fight for you.” 

“Are you saying you would have?” you asked, unsure of whether or not you wanted to hear his answer. 

“I’m saying I thought I didn’t even have a chance,” he admitted. 

“So you wouldn’t have,” you clarified for him, beginning to chop the toppings into pieces and separate them into bowls. 

He chuckled humourlessly, “I have dated one person since the divorce. I hated it.” 

“Why do you have to talk in puzzles, James? Why can’t you just come out and say what you really mean?” 

“And then what?” he asked. “We go back to living in the same house. Sleep in separate rooms. Move on now that we know the truth?”

“Say it,” you put the knife down and looked him right in the eyes. 

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked, cleaning the dough off his hand. “I’m going to say it and you’re just going to stand there and I have to live with that?” 

You walked around the counter and came right up in front of him. 

“If you were listening to anything I was saying, you would stop making excuses and say it.” 

“Fine!” he threw his hands up in the air. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you. These past few months, even though stressful, have been the happiest I’ve been in so long because I feel like myself again when I’m with you and Julian. Because I feel like your husband, and I feel like a father and I keep kicking myself wondering how I could have been so stupid to lose that.” 

“Say it one more time,” you whispered, lifting your hands to hold onto his face. “Please.” 

“I love you,” his voice was softer, relieved like after being underwater he could finally breathe again. 

You finally pulled him into you, your lips hesitantly resting on his at first, before you found your rhythm again after so long. It was muscle memory, his hands finding the spot they always rested against on your hips, his lips moving in synch with yours, eventually trailing off and finding their favourite spot against your jaw and behind your ear. 

“James,” you breathed. 

“Jamie,” he mumbled against your skin. “Call me Jamie.” 

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” you repeated the nickname until he silenced you with another kiss, muffling your voice. 

“God, I missed you,” he whispered when you pulled apart, breathing heavily due to your fast beating heart. 

You closed your eyes while your forehead rested against his, feeling his nose touch yours, his hands still firmly planted on your hips when your thumbs brushed against his cheeks. 

“Jamie?” 

James snuck another small kiss at the sound of the nickname. 

“Yes, my love.” 

“Can I count on you?” 

You could feel him nod his head and confirm with a verbal ‘yes’. And even if it turned out to be a lie, at that moment you didn’t care. He had proved to you that it was possible, you could work with that. 

“I love you,” you said and kissed his nose and then you said it and kissed him again for good measure. “You told me twice; I tell you twice.” 

James moved his hands up from your hips and brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek, a warm smile coming to his face. 

And there was that look, the one you thought had vanished over time. His eyes fully transfixed on you with nothing but love and admiration. It didn’t take much to convince yourself you could get used to seeing that look for a long, long time. 

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter

[ghouldump]

Your lestat x louis x claudia fic EATSSSSSSSS

If your are up to it could you do something with my pretty husband armand and his manipulative ways?

Beautiful Deception | Armand x Reader

ෆ moving to paris, the last thing you expected was to come across the ancient vampire.

lol thank youuu so much, i hope you like this 💕 sometimes i take a while to post because i rewrite my work over and over until i think it’s good. this was a great idea and i don’t mind taking more.

“How long will you continue to claim that you are a vampire?” The interviewer, Daniel Malloy asked. Crossing your leg over the other, you smiled.

“It is merely one of many truths, but I will let you and the readers decide if it should be accepted,” you said.

It had been nearly a year since you turned 100. Since you made the blog, originally to share stories from your past. Despite all events being true, and the website becoming a success, it was all seen as fiction. You were seen as a character, an upcoming writer dedicated to your role, but it would be coming to an end. Daniel, someone you’d been studying for some time now, needed a story, something fresh. He was getting the raw unspoken truth, things you hadn’t shared before, publishing it along with an interview.

“Why now?”

“Why not now, Daniel? We live in a new age, where we people of the night should be known,” you smirked.

Just then, the door opened, and Armand, your partner of over 80 years entered. The sleek black turtle neck was perfect against his glowing brown skin. Turning to him, you looked up in admiration, as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, before sitting next to you.

“I hope you don't mind, my husband, Armand, joining us”

“Armand the vampire? You said some concerning things about him,” Daniel said, trying to get under both of your skin.

“We’ve moved past those times,” you said, as Armand intertwined your fingers.

“Alright, whatever that’s supposed to mean, shall we start?”

“Yes, let’s,” you smiled, nodding.

“Let’s start here…”

Run, run, don’t stop, keep running.

Your heart pounded, as you ran through the streets, gasping for air as you grew more tired. Afraid to look back, you kept going, you were sure you’d drop dead in fear seeing him behind you. Turning on nearly every corner, relief washed over, seeing a store owner closing his shop.

“Sir,” you called out, as you jogged to him.

“No, no, I’m closing,” he pointed at the sign.

“Please help me, he’s going to get me,” you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.

“Come in,” he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping in glass.

“We have to hide,” you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.

“You go,” he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.

Limping to the back of the store, looking back one more time, you screamed as the door burst open, the shop owner being killed instantly. As the elderly man fell to the floor, you cried out, before he appeared in front of you.

“Y/n,” his eyes softened seeing your tear stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.

“Please….”

“You’re moving ahead of yourself, Daniel, we have to start from the beginning, I had just moved to France-

“So Armand didn’t kill the shop owner and was about to kill you next?” He asked, as Armand clenched his jaw, glaring at the man.

“Daniel, you only get one session, you have to get this right, just let the story seduce you as it had done to me,” you said as he begrudgingly nodded, finally ready to listen.

"Here are your keys, rent is due on the third of each month," your new landlord, Henri said, handing the keys to your husband, Phillip.

“Thank you, sir,” he muttered, while you giggled, your eyes exploring the place. Neither of you was the best at French, at least speaking it. Despite the previous months of studying and reciting, your articulation was still overwhelmingly, American.

He didn't say anything, giving you both a questionable stare, before leaving the small apartment. Compacted in size, and already cluttered with furniture, but it was your new home, and that's all that mattered. Shutting the front door, you walked over to the full-sized bed. This was the fresh start you needed.

“What do you think?” Philip asked.

“I love it,” you told him, jumping into his arms.

Living all of your life in the States, you were the youngest of two children. Your father, you never knew, not that it mattered too much to you. It was your mother who came from a wealthy family in France. Before she decided to move to its child, New Orleans.

She didn't talk about her time there much, only telling short stories about your grandparents or her early life in Paris. She was lonely as a child, and her parents were oftentimes neglectful, as a result of having her at an old age.

Having her own children, you and your twin brother, Elijah, from a hookup with an attractive soldier, she vowed to dedicate herself to both of you. She made sure neither of you ever went without, providing the best of your desires.

Around 9, you were certain you wanted to be a performer. It didn't matter how or what you did, the idea of being adored, captivating the crowd, your juvenile mind was set. Your mother soon paid for all sorts of lessons, dancing, singing, and instruments, she was just as determined that you would achieve your dreams.

While you were striving for your goals, your brother, Elijah, struggled with living in your shadow. You took up most of your mother's time, which is how she didn't notice the bullying. He had always been introverted, harmless as a butterfly, nose deep in a book. While you were holding onto hopes and dreams, your brother was guaranteed a successful life with how smart he’d always been.

However, there was a problem, jealousy. She was a demon, stronger than most, willing to compel whoever that would allow, to do whatever their deepest desires were. This is why, on that Saturday evening, on your 14th birthday, you and your mother left for the market, intending on baking a cake for the two of you, she attacked.

Bullies from his class saw him as he was taking out the trash. They never liked the boy, coveting the lifestyle he had been fortunately given. Attacking him, they only meant to roughen him up a bit, until he fought back. Then, filled with that ancient spirit of jealousy, one of them picked up a rock.

Thankfully, one of the neighbors heard the commotion and came running to save him, but the damage had been done. From that point on, your brother was different, as was your mother.

The life that he was once guaranteed to have was gone and your mother spent all of her time focused on caring for him. She still paid for your classes, but you were no longer a priority.

At 18, you met and eventually married Philip, a 22-year-old, journalist. He was very handsome with the most alluring brown eyes and soft wavy hair. He didn't have much money, but once he settled somewhere and established his career, he promised to give you the world.

Your mother disapproved of the marriage, how could you carelessly marry a poor man trusting his empty promises, she screamed at you. Which is why, out of spite, you told her you’d be moving to Paris. You watched as the hardened expression dropped, and sad memories flashed through her eyes. Throwing her hands up, she gave up with her argument, letting you leave, sending a parting gift of a few thousand dollars, before you were out of the country.

Now in the beautiful city, Phillip’s future seemed to be already looking up to be just as bright, as he had already been hired by a popular news corporation. Securing the apartment was simply the final step in your new life, at least that's what you thought.

Immediately, Philip worked day and night, hoping to begin to provide you with the life you deserved. Dates weren't as frequent as they once were in the States, but intimacy was just as regular as before, if not more.

Meanwhile, you oftentimes left home, looking for work. Not many places would hire women and the people who did expected their workers to work twice as much as they were paid. Until The Grand Cabaret, Edward, the head director of the restaurant/theatre was in dire need of new performances.

He'd stopped you on your way home from the store, captivated by your looks, giving you his card. Telling Phillip about the man, he agreed that it could be a good idea. Perhaps even a step towards becoming the big star you always wanted to be.

The next night you went, Philip was going to be out a little later than usual, finishing work. Anxiously, you made your way to the address on the card. Stopping in front of the building, you were surprised by the lack of guests. The establishment was nice, a few people were seated eating, and slow music was playing, but people continued to walk past.

“Ah, mademoiselle,” Edward smiled, as he stepped out.

“Not a busy night?” you asked him.

“People are more willing to eat with an equally lovely performance,” he said sheepishly, his eyes shifting to his left.

Following his eyes, you stared at the theater, Théâtre des Vampires. You could see the line of customers, excited to get into the theater. Although, the workers looked extremely rude and intimidating, dressed in the vampire costumes.

“I’m sure you just need the right act,” you told him, making eye contact with security, catching his brash expression.

“Do you sing or dance…?” He asked, waiting to hear your name.

“Y/n, and yes, I’ve been trained in both, I will admit, I am still not the greatest singer,” you laughed, as you accepted his hand.

“Please allow me to offer you a job here, as one of our employees. I trust your word, I am desperate, you’ll be paid weekly-

“I-when would I start?”

“Tonight…I mean, if it is possible,” he said.

“I can only stay for a while, my husband isn’t aware that I am away”

“Yes, of course, come right this way,” he said, leading you to the dressing room, allowing you to set your things down.

The cast members were all kind, introducing themselves as you glanced at yourself, checking your makeup.

“We have our newest act of the evening, the lovely and beautiful, Y/n,” Edward said, introducing you, before leaving the stage. He could already see the attention shifting to you, excitedly he opened the door, along with the windows, allowing potential guests to see.

“Just follow my lead,” you spoke to the small orchestra before you began singing a song you’d heard back when you lived with your mother. As the audience grew more interested, you felt your confidence rising by the second, as you danced freely, shutting your eyes, thrilled to finally be performing.

That night, for the first time, The Grand Cabaret was a full house. Everyone who passed wanted to see and hear more of your talent. As everyone clapped for you, and you could see now, you would be a star.

“What is the meaning of this?” Santiago frowned at Sam, wondering why he hadn’t been notified about any signaling of the play starting.

“Well…” Sam faced their leader, who stood, waiting for an answer.

“They’ve all gone to that stupid cabaret,” Estelle crossed her arms.

“Cabaret?”

“Apparently there is a new girl, American, she’s bringing them a bit of attention with her…performances,” Celeste told him.

Not saying a word, Armand furrowed his eyebrows, leaving the theater. His steps held a steady stride as he approached the building. Never since the theater had been opened had the place been empty. He had to see with his own eyes, this person, what had you done to take all of the loyal guests.

As he approached the entrance, the first thing he noticed was everyone wearing all black. The Dance of the Dead, starring the beautiful lead, Y/n,” his eyes skimmed the sign.

“Excuse me,” you said, brushing past Armand, and nearly running to the dressing room.

It had been a little over a month since you began working and although at first anxious, you were more than grateful for the opportunity. Edward was incredibly generous, wanting to keep his main act satisfied. You began to recommend themes, scenery, and new music, the guest needed to be able to visualize the show further than what you were giving.

The Dance of the Dead was a mockery of the vampire theater but with your own twist. A few people you'd grown familiar with had gone, telling you about how real everything seemed. How they’d managed to pull off some sort of screenplay, like movies. You never took the time to visit yourself, but saw the action as simply a little fun competition.

As the lights dimmed, Armand sat down, unintentionally gulping as you sauntered onto the stage. Immediately, the music started, along with your dancing. Armand watched as everyone focused, hypnotized as you were oozing in sex appeal. He nearly second-guessed himself about you, it shouldn't be possible for a mortal to captivate so many people in such a way, Armand thought to himself.

Going to your knees, as your head went back, he couldn’t help but think of how supernatural your beauty was, how luring your essence was. Going further to the floor, you faced the audience, your eyes meeting his. He smirked slightly, nodding at you, while you bit your lips.

As the song came to an end, you stood up, bowing your head. The audience cheered loudly, clapping and whistling.

‘Beautiful’ you heard, your eyes going to Armand, as he stood up.

“Thank you,” you blew kisses at the crowd, before going backstage.

He watched in amazement as they still cheered for you, the way that you moved ingrained into his thoughts. Coming from the dressing room, you looked almost different, blending in with the audience. He walked to the door, as you talked with your boss, accepting the envelope, along with a quick hug.

Moving outside, he stayed not too far behind you. Seeing that no one was around, he sped up, intentionally bumping into you.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized, as his hand brushed against your waist.

“No, it is my apologies, I may be mistaken, but do you work at the Cabaret?”

“Yes, I do,” he watched as your eyes twinkled with joy.

“I’m Armand, I am the director of Théâtre des Vampires,” he held out his hand.

“Y/n,” you went to shake his hand but froze as he lifted your hand, placing a soft kiss near your knuckles.

“I…I have to get home, my husband is waiting,” you told him, emphasizing the title, as he stared into your eyes. You couldn't deny the mysterious man was quite the sight.

“Allow me to walk you home,” he offered.

“Oh no, I wouldn't want to take up your time-

“Nonsense, a woman of your caliber should be escorted, perhaps we could talk business,” he said, making you smile.

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Ladies first,” he motioned for you to lead the way.

Armand was unnaturally enchanting in every aspect, a forbidden fruit your heart told you to stay away from, but your flesh tingled in his presence. It was an unspoken understanding that you could only see him at night at these shows. You anticipated seeing his youthful face, every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. He'd sit within the audience, watching your every move. Then backstage, approaching you, he'd always have a fresh bouquet. You would give him a look and he’d say something along the lines of how a star deserves flowers.

“Knock knock,” Armand said, catching your attention, turning from the vanity.

“Hi,” you smiled, standing up, and closing your robe.

“For you, the beautiful star of the show,” he said, handing you the bouquet.

“Thank you, Armand,” you told him.

“You never have to thank me,” he shook his head, reaching for your hand, and placing a soft kiss on top. Pulling away, as your heart leaped, you shifted your eyes.

“I have to get home soon,” you said.

“Right, your husband…it is a shame he doesn't come out to support you,” Armand said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“He works a lot”

“Unfortunate, I mean for him, because I get to have you to myself,” he said, smirking.

“Are you walking me home?” you asked, your face burning at his shameless joke.

“I'm ready when you are, angel”

You admired Armand, greatly, how confident, bold, intelligent, handsome-wait. Being around Armand, you oftentimes had to remind yourself you were married, as well as him. He had no problem blatantly flirting and laughing as you froze up in embarrassment. The two of you were growing closer than you should have been, while, it seemed like your marriage was crumbling.

“I don't want you working there anymore,” Philip told you, as you replaced the water in the vase, setting it near the window.

“Why? The extra money is helping…” you said, still staring at the flowers, Armand crossing your mind.

“My colleagues have been talking about the place nonstop, they think you’re some exotic whore,” he grumbled.

“Okay? There opinions aren’t paying us,” you told him.

“I don’t need them having you as a subject in the paper, you’re quitting,” he began to raise his voice.

“Philip, the money is great”

“I told you, I would provide the life you deserve-

“When? We’ve been out here for nearly a year and you have no signs of a pay increase. Am I supposed to sit around and hope? My mother was right about you,” you spat.

“What did you say?” He stalked towards you, your hands went up defensively as he walked towards you, as if you were prey. Raising his hand, he held it high, ready to strike you. You’d shut your eyes, waiting for the blow, but it never came.

Opening your eyes, you watched as he stood still, realizing what he was about to do, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he began to repeat, reaching for you before you ran out of the building. As you made it down the flight of stairs, you mentally cursed yourself, realizing you forgot to grab your coat, but were too afraid to go back.

Instead you walked the streets, stopping in your tracks, seeing the familiar faces. The cast members dressed as creatures of the night. You were about to walk towards them when a hand lightly pulled you backward. Gasping, your face relaxed as you bumped into Armand.

“Hi,” you said, breathlessly.

“What are you doing out here, in the middle of the night?” He tilted his head at you. You could ask the same thing, they were all here, a good distance from the theater.

“Just walking around, clearing my mind,” you said, shrugging.

“Something happened?” He asked, a concerned expression on his face.

“I’ll be fine, it’s nothing,” you shook your head. Armand was the last person you wanted to burden your problems with.

“Then allow me to join you, we can clear our minds together,” he intertwined his arm with yours.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to-

“Shall we go to the park? It’s quiet around this time,” he thought, leading you in the other direction.

“What are you all doing out here, in the middle of the night?” You asked him.

“Finding…inspiration,” he smirked.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course”

“Do you think it is wrong to regret big decisions you’ve made?”

“I think there are no coincidences, your mistake can lead you to your biggest culmination, regret is unnecessary, stress about something from your past, but tell me, what is it, you wish could have been done differently?”

“Maybe stayed home, pursued my dreams there, found a husband who was a man of his word, who supported my ambitions despite if others thought negatively of me,” you said, you hadn't realized you were crying until you felt Armand's finger brushing the tears away.

“This is nothing to be ashamed of, your dreams are coming to reality and I am a man of my word, I couldn’t care what anyone has to say when you’re on stage,” he smirked as you started laughing.

“And why is that?” You stopped walking.

“Because my eyes are blessed to see an angel and I don’t want to miss any parts of your beauty,” he said, as he gazed into your glossy eyes. Stepping closer, he pressed his lips against your own, and your arms guilelessly went around his neck.

“Where have you been, all my life?” you peered into his eyes.

“Waiting for you,” he said, kissing your lips, once more.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you giggled as the kiss broke.

“You’ve been worth the wait, come, it is getting late, I’m sure there are still some hotels opened-

“I can go home”

“Y/n-

“Trust me, I’ll be fine at home,” you smiled, as he redirected the walk to your apartment.

“Are you sure you want to stay here tonight?” Armand asked, as you both stood outside your door.

“Knowing Philip, he left,” you reassured him.

“Come to my theater tomorrow night”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“See you then,” he grinned, pecking your lips, before turning away.

“Edward, I don’t understand?” You frowned, trying to fathom what he was saying.

“I think it’s better this way, I’ve been more than grateful for the business you’ve brought to us, but we can’t risk having the article released, it will do more damage than anything,” he explained, his eyes full of pity.

You had extra time on your hands, stopping at your job, when Edward gave you the news. He was firing you, not because you had done anything wrong, but because he had received an anonymous tip about the cabaret soon to be in the media, and not for anything positive - going as far as being compared to a brothel.

All coverage wasn't good coverage in Edwards's eyes and he knew the target audience would turn away from the establishment in an instant.

“I'm sorry, Y/n,” he said, as you sighed, before putting on your best smile. You wouldn't cry now, sometimes this happened to big stars, you told yourself.

“It is alright, I wish you nothing but the best, goodbye,” you told him, leaving the cabaret.

You never looked back, keeping your eyes forward as you approached the ticket collector. His eyes snapped to you as he slightly frowned.

“There is a line,” he told you matter-factly.

“Is Armand here?”

“You can find out after you get in line just like everyone else-

“Y/n,” Armand walked outside, giving him a look. You watched as he lowered his gaze, almost in submission.

“Come,” he motioned, reaching out. Smiling, you accepted his hand, letting him lead you to his booth.

“Is there a reason you look like you’re on the verge of tears?”

“Just trying to figure out why everything is going wrong in my life,” you said, with a chuckle.

“Perhaps your culmination is closer than you realize”

“I hope you’re right”

“I’m in love with you,” your eyes widened at his words as you spoke at the same time.

“Armand, I-

“Since the moment you graced my eyes, I’ve been bewitched by your presence and…and I don’t want to leave it. I can give you the life you deserve, a stage to perform, love unlike any other, and pleasure beyond comprehension, choose me,” he told you, his eyes went to your lips, before he turned, watching as the lights dimmed.

Throughout the play, you could hardly focus, as your finger interlocked with Armand’s. His thumb caressed your warm flesh, bringing your hand to his lips. You could agree with your former colleagues, the play seemed real, almost too real. If it wasn’t for Armand’s swooning, you would be panicking.

You watched as the girl screamed, begging to be saved, but death came to collect. Surrounding her, her shrieking faded away as the curtains closed.

“That was…intense,” you gulped, as Armand laughed.

“It is all apart of the show,” he reminded you.

“Yes, doesn’t change that it was a little scary”

“You would look ravishing on that stage, whatever you'd like, singing, dance, it's yours,” he told you.

“I have to go,” you bit back your smiled, flattered by his bold promises.

“Stay, for tonight”

“I can't, it has been on my heart to write to my mother, so I want to get a head start,” you told him.

“Then will I see you tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night,” you nodded, accepting his kiss, before you left, making your way home.

Thinking of the steady decline of your marriage, you worried for your future, if you were headed towards a divorce. Your mother was the smartest woman you knew and although she was disappointed, you knew she would never turn her back completely. Like the prodigal son, you’d return home if it meant better circumstances, and your mother like the father, would accept you with open arms. Your heart wanted to believe Armand, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall for more empty promises.

Settling back into the apartment, you sat at Philip’s desk. You wouldn't consider yourself nearly as good as a writer as he was, but he had taught you a few things to better your craft. Grabbing a pen, you started a bit formal, it had been a while since you'd seen your mother after all.

As your writing progressed, you poured your emotions out into the paper. Dealing with the suppressed feeling of being the reason for your brother's condition, your failed attempts at marriage, and your career, since leaving home. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you raised your eyebrows at the time. Had it already been two hours of writing? Albeit, there was a pile of crumbled papers.

Suddenly the door burst open, Philip rushed in, terror covering his face. Locking the door, he immediately went to the small kitchen, pushing the stove in front of the door.

“Philip?”

Hearing his name, his head jerked around as he met your gaze. Rushing over to you, he stopped, seeing you back away nervously.

“Y/n, please, I won’t…just let me explain,” he said, opening the manila folder.

“It started when you wanted to work at the Cabaret, I was so excited for you, I started an article, you were going to have an entire page. But…but then my brain began to get distorted and fuzzy, I could hardly think. Before I knew it, the article was on fire. I came to your show and I noticed someone”

“You came to my show before?”

“Always, after the first time, you came home gushing, I promised to try to make it,” he said, pulling out the stack of photos he continued.

“This man, he came to every show, front row, bringing you flowers,” he showed a series of pictures of Armand, some of the photos you were in. His arms around you, his lips pressed against your own.

“Philip-

“Just listen,” he shook his head, stopping you.

“I went to his theater, to confront him, to win my wife back, but then I found this, in his office,” he pulled out more photos.

“He has been watching you since we came here, from the time we arrived, there are photos of you taken. Then, I looked around, and what I saw, they aren't human, none of them. Those aren't plays, they're actual murderings,” he cried, showing the hardly developed pictures of the coffins and corpses in a box full of rats.

“I think he has been getting in my head, since I began to suspect him, I’ve felt like another person is living inside of me,” he said, wiping his tears.

“I waited until they all settled in for rest and I set the hell house on fire, we have to leave, now, we can go home, start fresh, leave all of this behind us,” he stressed.

Moving to your shared closet, he began to rip all of your clothing from the hangers, throwing them on the bed. You stood with your hand on your stomach, trying to process the photos. Indeed, there were photos of you from the moment you stepped off the boat. You didn't want to believe any of these bizarre claims, but here was the proof right in your face.

Unexpectedly, the stove was pushed out of the way, as the door burst open. Armand walked in, his hair slightly disheveled, the scariest glare set on Philip.

“Armand?” you called his name, hesitantly.

“Y/n, run,” Philip told you, as you jumped away from the table, the paper catching ablaze.

“Philip-

“Run, now,” he shoved you, right as Armand grabbed him. His hands around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Philip struggled, trying to free himself, gasping as fangs came out. Armand seemed to be growling at him, before sinking his teeth into him, determined to drain every ounce of blood from him.

“Run,” Philip strained, as you covered your mouth, rushing out the door.

Run, run, don't stop, keep running.

Your heart pounded, as you ran through the streets, gasping for air as you grew more tired. Afraid to look back, you kept going, you were sure you'd drop dead in fear seeing him behind you. Turning on nearly every corner, relief washed over, seeing a store owner closing his shop.

"Sir," you called out, as you jogged to him.

"No, no, I'm closing," he pointed at the sign.

"Please help me, he's going to get me," you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.

"Come in," he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping into the glass.

"We have to hide," you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.

"You go," he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.

Limping to the back of the store, looking back one more time, you screamed as the door burst open, the shop owner being killed instantly. As the elderly man fell to the floor, you cried out, before he appeared in front of you.

"Y/n," his eyes softened seeing your tear-stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.

"Please, don't kill me,” you cried, shaking your head.

“Shh, shh, there is no need to cry,” he consoled you, forcing your head into his chest.

“Why did you kill him?”

“Because he married you,” he admitted.

“What are you?”

“A vampire,” he shifted his eyes as you looked at his face.

“They weren’t acting,” you shook your head, trying to shove him away.

“Not at the end, no,” he confessed. Wrapping his arms you, he walked you out of the store. You continued to try to fight him, but he was much stronger, holding you effortlessly.

Lifting into the air, you gasped, realizing he was floating, no flying! Wrapping your arms around him, you shoved your face deeper into his soft coat. He smiled as one of his hands held your head.

“We were out hunting, when I noticed you, stepping off of the boat. I could hear your precious thoughts, you were sure you'd be the next big star. You had dreams but weren't putting yourself out there, so I sent Edward to you, and I made sure he paid you like the star you are,” Armand said, as his feet landed on top of the museum.

“I showered you with praise and gifts of all kinds, and yet you left every night, going back to him, what is it that he could possibly have that I couldn't give you?” he asked, a gloomy look in his eyes.

“He was my husband, he didn’t have much, but I loved him,” you cried.

“He wouldn’t have given you the opportunities you can have. He would work himself to death, not without cheating on you to fill the void within himself because he knew he could never give you the life he promised”

“You killed him,” you continued to cry. Rolling his eyes, he felt himself growing frustrated with you.

“Because I love you, I can love you better than his wretched human mind could ever think to fathom. I could give you the eternal gift, lavishing you, treasuring you, why can’t you see, has your love for me left that quickly?” he asked, as he grabbed your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

Glamouring you, he hoped to find the truth, that your heart had turned cold at the sight of him. Wiping your eyes softly, his hand trailed to your lips, brushing against them softly.

“No,” you said, breathlessly.

“Then choose me, you have no need to fear me, we will be companions, equals, I, your maker, and you, my angel,” he said, a bloody tear slipping out of his eye. As he looked away, you snapped out of the trance, your heart ached to see Armand this way.

“I don't think I can forgive anytime soon, but I love you and I want you,” you told him, as you began to cry all over. Reaching towards his face, you wiped the blood away, before cupping his face in your hand. Searching your face for reassurance, you nodded.

“This will hurt for a short moment, but our eternity together will make up for it,” he told you, softly pecking your lips. Swiftly dipping you, you held onto him, as his fangs sank into your neck.

“Then what happened?” Daniel raised his voice, leaning towards you.

“I drank from him, and became his fledgling. I would say the rest is history, but it’s on the blog,” you laughed.

“You forgave him, just like that, after what he had done to Philip?”

“She actually took nearly a decade before I didn’t hear anything anymore,” Armand said, lifting your hand to his lips.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to a few things,” Daniel said, writing on his notebook.

“Okay, let’s hear it”

“Philip said that he came to your shows, nearly every single one, up until you were fired. But, during your time with Armand, he always seemed to working”

“He was saying a lot of things that night, him showing up to my shows was the least important thing to me at the time, but it was like 80 years ago, I don’t remember it like it was yesterday,” you laughed.

“I understand, Philip and Edward both spoke about an article, did this said article ever come about?”

“No-

“The fire was talked about, it took any attention from Y/n,” Armand interrupted.

“And what of the Cabaret? The Vampire Theater?”

“As far as we know, no one made it,” Armand said.

“The Cabaret went out of business a few years into my new life, I hear it’s a bakery now, you should visit,” you told him.

“If I’m not busy, I will think about it. What about your mother and brother?”

“I checked on them a few times, but the bloodline has ended with me,” you said, your smile faltering.

“I see,” he nodded, writing a note down.

“I trust you will do well with my story Daniel, reflecting on my past, I was a child, I didn’t have a real grasp of love and what it meant. I cared for Philip, he is who influenced my writing, but I can finally understand how much I didn’t actually love him,” you told him before he stopped the audio recording.

“Well, that’s it,” he sighed, saving the contents, before closing the computer.

“Lovely, would you like to stay for dinner?” you asked, as Daniel rubbed his head.

“No, I already made plans,” he said, his head feeling distorted and fuzzy.

“Awe, too bad, let me at least walk you to the door,” you stood, leading him to the front door of the spacious penthouse.

Sitting alone, Armand clenched his jaw, his eyes sharply piercing the air. Years upon years, nearly reversed in a single session. He could tell by the way Daniel was asking these questions, he wanted you to remember the obvious, but the truth was far too blurred for you to ever remember things how things were.

From the moment he saw you, he wanted you, filled with jealousy seeing you kiss him. He immediately began to find information about the two of you, watching from a distance. He did hear your thoughts, about how you wanted to be a star, which is why he sent Edward to you. The Cabaret had been nearby for some time now and hardly got any attention, you could work there for a while until you were ready for his stage.

Philip had been to nearly every show, but Armand was too far into your mind for you to ever notice him. Dancing and singing for the vampire alone, he had changed your memory too many times for you to even recount your performances. His breaking point was after stalking you, approaching your apartment, his heart shattered hearing you moan for him. The man he despised.

Lastly, he wished him turning you was as romantic as you made it out to be. After you told him you didn’t love him anymore, he promised that you would learn to love him again, before draining you. The thought of the fire infuriated him, his hate growing towards him. Philip ruined his plans and for that, he paid with his death. You were supposed to be turned, in the most beautiful way, becoming the lead actress at his theater. All of his plans, plans for you, the both of you, went to waste, because of him.

Armand knew some would come to this conclusion, and begin to question why. The answer was simple, so simple that many would hate him for his actions. He was jealous, seeing someone have what he wanted, so he took it. He had lived too long to care about his decisions hurting others and he held no regrets.

“Hey, are you coming to get ready for bed?” You asked, coming back to the entrance of the living room. Standing up, in an instant, he stood in front of me.

“Am I forgiven for my choices, my angel?” he asked, rubbing his face against your hands as you held his cheeks.

“You don't have to ask, don't let this story get to you, it's in our past,” you told him, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“I love you,” he smiled, kissing your lips.

“I love you too,” you told him, kissing him once more.

“I'll join you soon,” he said, watching as you turned, walking away.

Armand would never admit how prideful and monstrous his nature could be. Selfishly, he has taken you away from any and everything you knew, keeping you all to himself. However, none of these things mattered, he had won, in the end. You were a star, only meant to perform on his stage.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Aftermath

Summary: The aftermath of your arrival in Jackson and running back into Joel brings back emotions you thought you had moved on from.

Pairing: past Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3k

Rating: G

Warnings: angst, POV switch, bad break-up, talks about child birth, one steamy thought, flashbacks, Tommy being the protective bro, a surprise about the real relationship status of Joel and reader, Ellie being a dick (affectionate), Joel still being a mess and bad at feelings, but he's trying

A/N: still not exactly sure where I am going with this. Let me know what you think

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part two of invisible string

You didn’t think seeing him again after so many years, and after so much had happened would feel like this. 

Like finally being able to take a full breath after being under water for too long. 

You thought you’d be over it by now. Over him. 

It had been almost six years after all.

Yet it felt like it had been yesterday when you took one last look at him early in the morning with your little possessions packed and him passed out on the bed after another night of him drinking himself to sleep. 

But the moment you caught his wide eyes across the room now, it was 2010 all over again and you were the girl across the street who had dropped all the rations you had just picked up because some rude asshole walking into you, finding Joel looking at you with a hint of a smirk after you cursed the person out who had ran into you. 

Before you could realise it you had sat Ana down on the bench next to your brother who still had little Leo in his lap and were walking towards him, ignoring your brother calling after you.  

Joel looked at you like he’d seen a ghost. 

Deep in the night, when you were alone and your little family was asleep you imagined what it would be like if you’d ever meet Joel again. 

He had not only broken your heart that night you told him you were pregnant. 

He had broken a part of you that you hadn’t been able to repair. 

You tried to hate him, god did you try. 

You cursed him on your whole absolute suicidal journey back to your hometown close to Denver, your mind set on finding your brother who you had occasional contact to, since he was living in a community on the an military base, close to the Denver QZ.

You cursed Joel when you gave birth in the safety of an actual working hospital while your brother held your hand, wishing so much it was Joel who was supporting you through the birth of your child. 

You cursed him when you were surprised by not only one but two babies who you were now responsible for. 

You cursed and cursed and cursed him while you just could not stop loving him no matter how much you tried.  

Because you knew the man behind the version he had turned into in the months leading up to your break up. 

The man who was lashing out at you for things out of your control. The man who stayed away longer and longer until he didn’t come back home to your shared apartment at night. The man who never ever told you he loved you with his own words. 

Not when you were awake, but you did not know that he whispered his I love you’s every night against your forehead before he fell asleep. 

But he also was the man who always kept you in his arms when you were scared of a storm howling outside. The man who always kept one of his shirts out for you because he knew how much you loved to wear them. The man who had you on the verge of tears from the way he knew how to play your body night after night while he praised you what a good girl you were for him. 

He was the father of your children. 

And you loved him. 

You still loved him. 

You just weren’t sure if you could ever forgive him and trust him again. 

And just couldn’t stay with him back then while was busy destroying himself. Because it wasn’t just you anymore you had to take care of but the children growing inside of you. 

And so you left. All the way to Colorado, the Denver QZ and then to find you brother, finally finding him when you were almost eight months pregnant. And now you were in Jackson, Wyoming. 

The community you had spend the last years in having been overrun by a huge group of infected and your brother knowing about Jackson from the trading routes he went on regularly. 

You never thought you would see Joel ever again. Not that far away from Boston. 

And now he was here. And he was looking at you. And you were trying to decide if you would kill or kiss him when you saw him bend over, Tommy looking concerned and a girl not older than fifteen running across the room towards him.

„Joel?“ You whispered, your hand reaching out as if to touch him, but you decided against it, rubbing your sweaty palm against the fabric of the new jeans you had been gifted this morning. 

He blinked his eyes up at you in shock. 

„You’re here,“ he gasped and then he fell into the arms of his brother, who caught him before he could hit his head. Unconscious. 

„Fuck,“ Tommy groaned, trying to pull his brother up in his arms, the girl next to you pushing you away to help him. 

„Is he dead? Tommy? He can’t be dead. I am not ready being mad at him yet,“ she shook her head while helping Tommy slowly put him on the ground, people gathering around you now.

„He’s not dead, Ellie. He’s just….“ Tommy looked up at you for a moment before he looked at the girl, Ellie, again. 

„He’s just overwhelmed and had a panic attack. Can you please get Doc so we can get him to the clinic? Just to be sure?“ Tommy asked and you could feel how hesitant the girl was to leave him. 

Who was she?

„Fine,“ she mumbled and got back up, but not before looking at you with narrowed eyes. 

„This is your fault,“ she hissed and you were taken aback as she walked towards you, intimidating you. You heard Tommy call her name, but she didn’t stop and you stumbled back, unsure and if you were honest with yourself a little scared at the look the girl was giving you. 

You didn’t get far before you walked into someone, feeling a hand on your shoulder and you looked up to find your brother behind you. 

„Ellie!“ Tommy had now gotten up to walk in front of her. 

„Who is she? What did she do to Joel?“ Ellie asked him, her eyes still on you. 

Tommy sighed. 

„She’s Joel’s wife.“

The ring Joel had put on your ring finger during a winter storm in December of 2012 didn’t sit on your finger anymore. 

You had to take it off somewhere between the fifth and sixth month of your pregnancy, your fingers swelling. It had made its way to the chain around your neck where you kept it since that day next to the heart your mother had gifted to you when you were seven years old.

The only thing you had left from her.  

It was a habit of yours to play with the ring as soon as you got anxious since then. 

You were in the clinic now, not sure what you were doing here. 

After Joel had been brought to the clinic last night Tommy thought it was for the best that you stayed back while you weren’t even sure if you wanted to go and see him. 

So you had taken your kids home where your brother helped tuck them in before he disappeared into his own room, but only after kissing your forehead and telling you that everything was gonna be okay and that if you wanted to talk he would be there. 

He knew everything about you and Joel. 

And you were pretty sure at some point he would tell Joel exactly what he thought about his behaviour that led to you practically fleeing from him while being pregnant. 

But that would wait. 

First you had to figure out what to do. 

Part of you wanted to hide from the world. 

But you had two very excited kids who wanted to go to school this morning. Kids that thankfully did not witness anything that happened the night before thanks to your brother and their future teacher who had helped settle you in. 

You were pretty sure your brother had a crush on her.

So now, after you brought your kids to school and spend two hours telling yourself that you could leave them there, that they were safe, you had Maria walk you towards the clinic where apparently Joel was still resting. 

Tommy and the girl you had seen yesterday, Ellie, were waiting in front of a closed door when you walked in and they both looked up at you when you entered. 

Tommy gave you a tired smile before he kissed his wife’s cheek as she walked over to him. 

„How is he?“ Maria asked. 

„Worst patient ever. He’s getting released this morning,“ Tommy said and you nodded, still uncertain if you should stay or leave, your fingers finding the ring resting on the chain over your heart, playing with it. 

„I should leave before he gets out,“ Ellie said. 

„Ellie, please. I’m sure he wants to talk to you,“ Tommy said and Ellie rolled her eyes. 

„Should have thought about that before he did what he did,“ she grunted, looking up at you. You got the impression that there was some kind of a story between her behaviour towards Joel. Not that you were interested in finding out more about it. 

Because you were not family. 

Not anymore. 

You weren’t sure what you and Joel were anymore if you were anything at all. Not for a long time. 

„Guess now that he has her back, he won’t need me anymore anyway,“ she said as she walked past you and out of the clinic. 

Tommy rubbed his fingers over his forehead in frustration. 

„Really looking forward to Sammy becoming a Teenager one day,“ Tommy groaned and Maria smiled softly, pulling her arm around Tommy’s waist. 

You had met little Sammy yesterday as Tommy introduced you to his little family. 

„Thankfully we have almost ten years to prepare for that,“ Maria said and he nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at her before he looked at you again. 

„He wants to talk to you,“ Tommy said and you sucked your bottom lip in. 

„And I would feel better if it happens here where a doctor is close by after last night,“ he said jokingly but you could hear some truth behind it. 

You took a deep breath, your fingers still playing with the ring on the chain. 

You should go. Maybe you should leave Jackson and find somewhere else, which you knew you wouldn’t. From what you had seen since getting here, the community was close to perfect, but you just didn’t know how you would be able to live somewhere with Joel close by. 

Did he still hate you?

Would he want to meet your children?

No. No he wouldn’t. If he would have wanted to be in the life of your kids, he would not have reacted the way he did back then and then ignored you for a full week after until you decided to leave. 

You were about to tell Tommy that you couldn’t face him when the door behind him opened and Joel stepped out with a younger woman who had to be the doctor, who instructed Joel sternly to take it easy for a couple of days. 

He whispered your name as he looked at you and you released a shaky breath. 

There suddenly was a tension in the air as you both looked at each other. 

„Can we… Can we talk?“ Joel asked. 

You only nodded, seeing him breath out in relief before he stepped back into the room. You looked at Tommy who gave you an encouraging smile, before you followed Joel into the room and closed the door behind you. 

The first thing Joel noticed when his eyes blinked open was that there was a crack in the ceiling of the room he was laying in that he should take a look at. He groaned, stretching his tired muscles turning his head around to find his brother sitting on a chair next to the bed he was laying in, his eyes on him. 

Was he at the… clinic?

Did he get hurt?

He was about to check his own body for injuries when the memories came floating back. 

You.

With a girl in your lap. 

A man next to you. 

With a boy in his lap. 

He sucked air in and Tommy’s hand came to rest on his arm. 

„Easy, brother,“ he said and Joel fixed his eyes on his brother, mirroring the way he was breathing slowly, calming himself down. 

„She’s really here?“ Joel asked and Tommy nodded. 

"Arrived an hour after you went on patrol two days ago. With her two kids and brother,“ Tommy stressed the last word and Joel closed his eyes. 

„Brother,“ he repeated. 

„Jep. You know you never really told me why she left,“ he began, before he pressed his lips into a line, slowly shaking his head and as Joel opened his eyes to look at his brother he wondered when Tommy had gotten the same look down that their Dad had when he was disappointed in his children. 

„Can’t fuck with the Miller genes. Leo looks like you when you were a boy,“ Tommy said. 

Leo. 

The boy’s name was Leo. 

His son’s name was…. No. He didn’t deserve that title. Not after….

„Did you know that she was pregnant?“ Tommy asked. 

Joel audibly breathed out. 

„Yeah. Yeah I did,“ he confessed, looking everywhere but at his brother, shame settling deeply in his gut. 

„Fuck,“ Tommy shook his head. 

„I fucked up. There’s no excuse. I lashed out and fucked it all up. I fucked up the only good thing…“ he stopped, feeling the tears in his eyes. 

They were silent for a while, until there was a knock on the door and the doctor walked in, asking if he was ready to get out of here, which Joel confirmed with a sigh. 

She asked Tommy to leave so she could check Joel over. 

He watched Tommy get up, walking out of the room. But just before he exited he turned around, his eyes fixed on his brother. 

„Maria is bringing her over in a bit. I recon you wanna talk to her?“ Tommy asked and Joel nodded. 

„Don’t be an asshole again. Or you gonna have a problem with me,“ he nodded at Joel and he nodded back. 

You hadn’t been in a room alone with Joel in almost six years. 

You didn’t know how to be alone with him anymore. 

There was a part that wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and tell him how much you missed him, but there was the bigger part of you that wanted nothing more than to run out of the room and hide from him. 

It was like some weird kind of PTSD that now connected being in a room alone with Joel with getting your heart broken, leaving every cell in your body bracing for heartbreak. 

„I can’t believe you’re here,“ he said as he leaned against the wall across from you, his hands behind his back, making himself small.

You stayed at the door, needing a quick way to get out of here if you needed to. 

He looked older. Tired. His hair almost as long as Tommy’s, now more salt than pepper in it. And there still was that perfect patch in his beard that grew no hair. A spot you had kissed more often than you could count in the past. 

You found him looking at you as you tried to form words. 

„I didn’t know you would be here. I didn’t think I would ever see you again,“ you said, voice quiet and he nodded. 

„Don’t think it’s a happy occasion for you, huh?“ He sighed, before he cursed under his breath. 

Before you could say something he continued. 

„That day…. The day you told me you were pregnant…. The way I reacted… Sorry isn’t enough of a word. I’d go on my knees to beg you for forgiveness, but I don’t deserve it. I never deserved you,“ he whispered the last sentence and you closed your eyes, fighting down the tears. 

„Joel, do you think I would have married you, if I thought you did not deserve me? I loved you. You. With all your flaws. I never understood why you thought you had to prove yourself worthy of me. I just wanted you to love me,“ you said softly. 

„I did love you. I still do… I just….“ He stopped, seemingly searching for what to say next while you looked at him with big eyes. 

„You love me?“ You asked, perplexed. 

He looked at you like you grew a second head. 

„Of course I do,“ he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Sucking your bottom lip in, you looked at him while your fingers went back to the ring that rested on the chain around your neck, seeing Joel’s eyes follow your hand, recognising what you held in your hand. 

„You never told me before,“ you whispered, the room suddenly feeling to small. 

„I know,“ he said, voice breaking as a tear slipped down his cheek. 

You looked away from him, your eyes landing on the clock hanging on the wall, eyes widening. 

„I… I have to go. I have to pick up…. I have to pick up the twins….“ You mumbled already turning around, your hand on the door handle.

„Twins?“ You heard him ask behind you and you nodded without turning around. 

„What are their names?“ He asked softly and your shoulders fell as you took a deep breath. 

„Leo and Ana Miller. After my dad and your mom,“ you whispered before you opened the door and walked out. 

[yncoreee]

CUTIE CUTIE. Eunchae x reader

Synopsis— your girlfriend got carried away babying you, she didn’t notice the door swinging open

Warnings .ᐟ requested, kissing, lil bit rushed (so sorry), they get caught, secret relationship au, idol x idol!reader, 06’ liner reader,happy eunchae day! Will try to post some of my many planned fics today but no promises, female reader, FLUFF

꩜ — ⵌWord count 886

The dorm was filled with nothing but the comforting silence. The other members were out doing one thing or the other for their leisure time. But you and eunchae decided it was best to stay alone at the dorm as the busy schedule through out the whole week had affected the rate at which you spent Time with each other (off cameras)

You laid comfortably on her laps humming in satisfaction as you scrolled through your phone. While her hands tangled in between the strands of your hair.

Being in a secret relationship especially of the same group had it’s peeks. The both of you hardly having any time for each other except when at the dorms. And always trying to act romantic in a platonic way in front of the members so as not to seem suspicious.

There we’re limits you and eunchae reached once you saw one of the older members giving you a raised eyebrow.

Today was one of the free lucky days the both of you had some time alone together. It usually got interrupted by one member or the other following the sequence oldest -> youngest.

The most recent person was kazuha so eunchae was guessing maybe it was sakura next.

“Do you think it’s kkura-Unnie that’s going to interrupt us this time?” Eunchae asked her hands beneath her chin.

You let out a chuckle at her prediction. “Mmm maybe, who knows. Maybe it will actually be all the members” you sighed, your cheeks slightly puffed with air.

“Awww you’re so cute, cutie cutie” eunchae cooed, her hands finding it’s way to reach your cheeks, lightly squishing it.

“Hey?!” You yelled pouting, immediately taking your head off her laps. You glared at her while your arms were folded across your chest, a light pout forming on your lips.

“Rahhh!!! Cuteness overload” eunchae squealed dramatically clutching onto her chest, her hands coming up to tickle your sides.

You let out small giggles, tears forming in your eyes from the non stop laughter. “Chae stop!” You said in between laughs.

“No way!”

Eunchae took a brief moment to admire your cuteness. She watched as a big smile was apparent on your mouth, your eyes forming into a crescent shaped to show how genuine the laughter was.

Slowly she unconsciously leaned in closer, her face was so close you could practically feel her breath tickling against yours. The more she leaned the closer your lips got.

It was about to meet finally until—

“WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE?!!” Chaewon yelled causing eunchae to immediately back off. The both of you turning to face the other members with widened eyes. Their expressions mirroring yours.

“Unnies….? Since when have you been standing there?” Eunchae nervously chuckled, scratching the back of her neck.

“Long enough to see you almost kissing y/n” sakura responded, looking at eunchae with unreadable expressions.

“Since when has this been going on?” Chaewon asked sternly, only raising one eyebrow.

“Ummm for about six months” you gulped, swallowing a huge lump down your throat. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look Any of them in the eye.

Your hands fumbled it way into interlocking with eunchae’s. She took your hand in hers looking over at you with a smile that said. “We got this”.

“OMG THEY LOOK SO CUTE TOGETHER!!!” Yunjin squealed taking note of the hand holding.

“Yunjin shut up.” Chaewon face palmed pulling yunjin back. “I’m honestly still speechless. But I want to hear the rest opinions on this. I personally don’t know if it’ll be better if you guys broke up” chaewon shrugged, eunchae looking at her with scared and sad faces.

“No no Unnie please….anything but that” you pleaded tears almost forming in your eyes.

“But—“

“They’re right chae, them breaking up won’t be the best idea. You know y/n and eunchae share a really close bond and that might affect their interactions in the group if they break up. I don’t think it’s much of a big deal and actually support them, as long as they’re both happy and they keep the relationship a secret” sakura stated, her wise words sinking into Chaewon’s head.

“You got a point there Unnie, what about you yunjin?” Chaewon asked turning to yunjin.

“Me? I honestly think they’re so so so cute together, like come on two babies in a relationship??? Rahhhh they’re even holding hands!” Yunjin burst into excitement, dramatically plopping herself right on the chair.

“Zuha?”

“Huh? I don’t know. I don’t have a problem with it. Plus Yunjin Unnie is right, they look so cute together” kazuha sighed dreamily.

“Mmm. Since most of you all—“

“Except you”

Chaewon glared at eunchae. “Yes except me, are fine by it. Then it’s final the couple stays”

Eunchae looked up at chaewon with sparkles in her eyes. “Omg thank you so much Unnies!!!” She jumped up and down excitedly. “So can I kiss y/n now?”

“NO!”

“Get a room”

“DEFINITELY!!!!!”

“I don’t know, I’m going to my room”

Eunchae didn’t mind the others comment and instead leaned closer to capture your lips.

Chaewon yelling in the background, sakura unbothered by it, yunjin squealing like a tire wheel, kazuha already off to bed.

“You’re the greatest thing that can happen to me” eunchae said, cupping your cheeks.

“HONG EUNCHAE I SAID NO!!”