#its a sounds a love language a voice for people an expression

[ro-is-struggling]

Safer In His Arms || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: Since you were little you always dreamed of meeting a noble and brave knight, falling in love and marrying him to rule your kingdom together until the end of your days. But as you looked around at the men that had come to the banquet to ask for your hand in marriage, it was clear that those dreams were nothing more than a fantasy. Or at least that's what you thought until fate crossed your path with Geralt of Rivia. The witcher, with his hard expression and cold stare, was the last person anyone would describe as warm or chivalrous. But not you. From the moment you met him, you saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. And when he managed to rescue you from the hands of bandits, you knew that maybe there was still some hope that your fantasy could come true —just maybe not in the way you had always imagined. 

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of sexual assault (nothing happens but if it’s triggering for you I wouldn’t read it), protective!geralt, SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, loss of virginity (not accurate this is just porn!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff

English is not my first language

Word count: 13500 (not even sorry)

Notes: I don't know why I keep giving every princess I write a sad/tragic story, sorry about that. Also this ended up being way more smutty than I anticipated, sorry about that too (not really). It was supposed to be a fun little hurt/comfort fic about Geralt saving the reader but it developed a mind of its own and ended up being another excuse to write more smut. I tried to make the smut a bit more fluffy than normal since it's supposed to be the reader's first time, but I didn't want it to be too fluffy given that they technically barely know each other, so there's no actual love between them (if that makes sense?). So, sorry if it's a bit all over the place!

The cold breeze of the summer night hit your skin the moment you set foot outside, reminding you that you should have taken a coat. While the days tended to be hot this time of year, once the sun set over the horizon a cool breeze embraced the entire kingdom, courtesy of the ocean forces that surrounded the borders of the land. It was quite peaceful. On a quiet night you loved to sit in the courtyard listening to the waves crashing against the rocks and smelling the scent of the salty water that was carried by the winds and mingled with the sweet perfume of the garden flowers. It seemed to always bring peace to your troubled mind, and that was exactly what you needed right now.

You could still hear the noise coming from inside the castle, though it was slowly getting lost in the sound of the sea. The laughter, the chatter, the joyful music, it all faded into the background as you plopped down on one of the seats in the courtyard, allowing yourself a moment to take a deep breath and let the beauty of your kingdom impart some of the wisdom you so desperately needed. All the guests were there for you —to talk and dance with you, to make unattainable but romantic promises in exchange for your hand in marriage— and yet all you wanted to do was disappear. You were tired of the politics, the diplomacy, tired of feeling the pressure of having to decide the future of your life and your kingdom in one night. The choice of a husband was very important to your parents, to your people and it should be to you too, but all you wanted was for the day to be over.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one feeling overwhelmed in there." A deep voice startled you. 

Looking up you were met with a tall man leaning against one of the stone pillars supporting the roof of the covered section of the courtyard. His arms were crossed over his chest, muscles showing through the fabric of his clothes. His white hair hid part of his face, though you could still make out his hard expression and defined jaw. But what caught your attention the most was not the size of his muscles or the fact that the clothes he was wearing seemed too elegant for someone like him. No, what caught your attention the most were the amber eyes that watched you, admiring you from a distance, hiding behind a few rebellious strands of hair. You had never seen such beautiful eyes before. They were piercing, and yet there was a softness in them. Like the sun on a summer afternoon, they shone with an intensity that would have blinded anyone. But you were mesmerized by them, unable to look away. 

"Though I must admit I did not expect to find you here, your highness, given that you are the center of the party."

"I needed some fresh air." You managed to say, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes. "I lost count of the number of men I danced with tonight...I just needed a break."

"That bad, huh?" His lips curved upward slightly, giving his hard expression a softer look. "I suppose if any of them had made a good impression at least you would remember their name."

"It wouldn't matter anyways. My parents have a very strong opinion about the one I should choose." You let out a bitter chuckle. "This banquet is just a formality, a contingency plan.... Give everyone a false sense of hope so they won't attack us for feeling left out."

"I'm sure you still have some sort of control over the whole thing. You're the one getting married after all."

"Since when does a woman's opinion matter when there's wealth and power involved? I'm just a pawn in their political game." Your gaze dropped, focusing on the embroidered details of your dress to avoid facing the intense gaze of the man in front of you. "When I was a girl I used to dream of growing up, meeting a brave and honorable prince and falling in love with him... now I know that feelings come after marriage, if they come at all."

Geralt watched you walk arround the courtyard, your fingers tracing the petals of the flowers that decorated the place without paying much attention to your movements. You had a blank stare and a sad expression adorned your delicate face. He was not a big lover of royalty —he didn't care about politics and didn't like the arrogant tone with which most of them used to speak—, but you were different. When he looked at you he didn't see a spoiled, arrogant princess or a manipulative political figure capable of anything to get their way. He only saw a sad and disillusioned young woman, confused about her future and the responsibility that fell on her shoulders. 

Geralt felt bad for you and had an inexplicable urge to hug you, though he restrained himself. He opted to move closer to you, just took a couple of steps forward and he was already able to breathe in the scent of your perfume. His nostrils were pleasantly assaulted by the sweet scent emanating from your skin and hair. It was special, a blend of jasmine, vanilla and a hint of sea water. It was like nothing he had ever smelled before and he was sure that your scent would linger in his memory for a long time.

"It is still your life." He spoke behind your back and you turned to look at him. He seemed much bigger now that he was closer to you. His figure towered over you imposingly, yet his eyes were soft. "You can always take back your control over it." Your lips curved upward slightly and Geralt thought the smile suited you much better than the grimace of sadness. 

You appreciated his effort to improve your mood. He was a complete stranger who had no reason to listen to your complaints about a life that many considered privileged. And though his words were simple, they accomplished their purpose. You felt so helpless and trapped that you were unable to see that things didn't end there. Yes, you were forced to marry someone you did not love for the sake of your kingdom, but that was not the same as giving up your life, your control and power over it. There was still hope.

"Thank you..." you trailed off, realizing at that moment that you had opened yourself so sincerely to a man whose name you didn't even know. 

But before he could introduce himself, a voice in the distance interrupted you, answering for him.

"Geralt! There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. You are supposed to protect me, you know."

Geralt let out an irritated sigh as the man you recognized as one of the many musicians hired by your parents to play at the banquet approached you. You had to stifle a chuckle as you realized that rather than escaping the noise of the party, he had come there to get a break from his friend's vibrant and cheerful personality. They were an odd pair, but you had no doubt that there had to be trust between them from the way the bard addresses him.

“I’ve been doing the impossible to hide from Lord Kaius for ages! What the hell were you doing out her–” The artist's complaints were cut short when his eyes finally rested on your figure. "Your highness." He gave a subtle bow, the tone of his voice changing to a lower, more subtle one from one second to the next.

"I'm afraid it's my fault. I was preoccupying your friend with the problems that afflict my mind on this fine evening and he was too kind to interrupt me. He was a great help, but you can take him back now. You clearly need him more than I do."

"Won't you come inside, your highness? You wouldn't want to miss your own party." The bard asked and you smiled at him. 

"In a moment. I'd like to enjoy the peace and fresh air for a while longer."

Geralt didn't know why, but his eyes kept searching for you in the crowd of people dancing and eating like there was no tomorrow. After Jaskier dragged him back to the banquet hall —and after saving him from the fury of the man whose daughter had lost her innocence in the hands of the bard—, he kept his eyes on the big dark wooden doors, waiting to see you enter. But the minutes passed and there was no sign of you anywhere. He hadn't seen you come through the door and he couldn't find you in the crowd of people or see you at the royal table sitting next to your parents. You had disappeared and some people were beginning to notice.

For a moment, Geralt wondered if perhaps his words had encouraged certain behaviors in you. Maybe your way of taking control of your life was to run away from there, leaving your parents, your suitors and your responsibilities behind and start from scratch. He was wondering if perhaps he should go out to look for you, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden entrance of a man running towards the king and queen waving a paper in his raised right hand.

"The princess has been kidnapped." He announced loudly, causing the entire room to fall into a deep silence. 

The musicians stopped playing, the people dancing stood motionless in the middle of the room and the queen almost fainted at that very moment. There was a collective sigh and then nothing. Pure silence while the king read the note that had been left behind by the bandits, establishing a payment for the recovery of the princess.

However, the silence did not last long. It was a room full of princes, knights and lords who were there to win the heart of the princess —or at least, the political interest of her parents— so chaos was bound to break out at a time like that. Lord Einar, the one who had found the note in the courtyard, was the first to offer his services to save the princess. His bravery set off a chain reaction of man after man appearing before the king to justify why they were the best suited for the task and not their competitors. And as they fought among themselves, Geralt decided to take matters into his own hands. 

He finally felt comfortable as he inspected the courtyard and its surroundings for some sort of clue as to your whereabouts. For the first time since he had arrived at the castle he felt as if he actually had something to do there. Banquets and politics weren't his thing, but tracking down and hunting evil was. And while his area of expertise was monsters, he was willing to make an exception —anything to find an excuse to get him out of the political mess unfolding in the banquet hall.

His senses enhanced by the mutation allowed Geralt to follow the path that your scent had left in the air. He only had to take a couple of deep breaths and he immediately caught the fragrance of jasmine and vanilla that he had smelled on your skin. It stood out above any other scent near him, almost as if he had you in front of him once again. All he had to do was follow it to the outskirts of the castle, where his tracking skills allowed him to form a clearer picture of the situation.

They were heading north, away from the ocean and into the forest. The four pairs of footprints in the dirt indicated the presence of three heavy men who were accompanied by a fourth subject that was not so pleased to be there. The footprints were more shallow and imperfect. They belonged to a person of smaller build who was being dragged by those men. Geralt found no blood on the path, so he felt optimistic. You were conscious and had no serious wounds that would leave traces of your blood on the road, so there was a high chance that he would arrive in time to save you.

Following the path became a little more complicated the deeper he went into the woods, but fortunately for him the vegetation was not so lush and the bandits had not hidden very far away. Soon he was able to hear their angry mutterings in the distance. The night wind carried your sobs with it and Geralt followed them as if it were a map straight to your whereabouts. 

You were being held captive in what appeared to be abandoned land. There was a dirty old shack and behind it, in the distance, Geralt could make out a barn that he had no doubt was in the same condition. A dim light was escaping through the half-open wooden door, so he knew that was where he had to go. 

Two of the bandits scattered around the property to control the perimeter while one remained inside with you. Geralt was able to slip past them unseen with ease. Clearly, they were not men of great intellect and wisdom. Only a fool would kidnap a princess on the one night she was surrounded by strong and capable noble knights looking to prove themselves to her. Although glancing around, he was the only one there, so perhaps the bandits had a point.

Geralt was very careful with his movements, seeking to stay in the shadows as long as possible to assess the situation. He knew he could take out those men without breaking a sweat, even if they attacked him all three at once. But he had to consider that you were in the middle and any mistake he made could end badly for you. So he took his time, stealing a glimpse of the barn through the cracked door. His vision was limited by the odd angle from which he was forced to observe the scene, as well as the dim light that illuminated the room. Geralt was considering going in with his sword held high and end it all, when a sudden movement forced him to retreat so as not to be found.

Still, he got to see the way the man was mistreating you, pushing you violently against a pile of hay while you cried and begged for your life. And he got to hear the string of degenerate words he spat at you, enjoying the fear in your voice as you struggled to keep your distance from him. It made Geralt angry. Very angry.

The next sequence of actions happened so quickly that it was hard for you to process it. Although, to be honest, your mind wasn't quite there either. A part of you was completely missing, preparing to face the worst. When your captor lunged at you, effectively imprisoning you against the hay and almost completely restricting your movements, your mind transported you to another place. You could still hear his voice in the distance, smell his unpleasant odor and feel his weight on your body, but it all felt distant, muffled by the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and the smell of salt water. Your body was still struggling to break free and tears were still streaming down your cheeks, but your mind was preparing to face the horror you knew was coming.

"You can cry all you want, no one is coming to save you." The man clicked his tongue, an evil smile forming on his lips. "A castle full of people and not a single man in sight, what a shame! But don't worry, princess, the time has come for you to know what a real man is." He moved his hands to the buttons of his pants, his leering gaze roaming over your body. You felt like screaming, crying and vomiting all at the same time, but you remained immobile, not knowing how to react. You simply closed your eyes, concentrating on the images of the sea you loved so much, waiting for the moment to pass.

But instead of feeling the weight of your captor's body on you again, you felt the splatter of warm liquid on your skin. Droplets rolled down your cheeks, mixing with your tears, and streams fell on your clothes. When you opened your eyes you found the sharp point of a sword poking out of your captor's pierced stomach. It was his blood that drenched your body, his blood that stained your clothes. It poured down on you from the wound in his stomach and from the cut in his throat that prevented him from producing more than broken cries as he drowned in his own blood.

It took you a few seconds to understand what was happening. Your confused mind, on high alert for new dangers, was not able to comprehend that the death of your captor was something positive for you. You only saw blood in quantities you had never seen before and could not help but scream as you watched in horror as the sword disappeared inside the bandit's body —splashing a few more drops of blood on its way out.

In the blink of an eye, the dying body of your captor was removed from above you and was replaced by a hand that pressed over your mouth to silence you. You struggled against it, your own hands snapping out of their state of shock to clutch at the arm of the new danger in an attempt to separate it from you. But then your eyes focused on the man leaning over you, the one who had saved you and who was desperately asking you to keep quiet.

A surge of calm ran through your body as you made contact with those golden eyes that intrigued you so much. You knew then that you were no longer in danger for Geralt had come to your rescue. Your heart was still beating almost inhumanly fast, pumping adrenaline throughout your body, and your breathing was still rapid, but you were able to calm your whimpers of protest under his hand. You stopped fighting him, trusting that you would be safe under his care.

"There are more-" You tried to warn him as he removed his hand from your mouth, but Geralt shushed you.

"I know, they're outside. That's why I need you to stay quiet and hide while I deal with them. Can you do that, your highness?" You nodded slowly, letting Geralt lead you to the back of the barn. He settled you behind a pile of hay that was large enough to hide your crouched figure, asking you to stay there until he came back for you, no matter what you heard outside.

"Wait! Don't leave me!" you panicked as he took a step away from you. Your hand flew to his arm, clinging to his clothes in an attempt to keep him from leaving. You knew what he had to do, but the thought of being alone again terrified you.

"Everything will be fine." Geralt tried to calm you, his voice a soft whisper. "I promise I will come back for you." 

He gave you a moment before trying to leave once again, waiting for you to let go of his arm willingly rather than forcibly push you away. Geralt knew you were terrified and needed support, and he was more than willing to give it, but first he had to take care of the bandits that were still on the loose. And it would not be wise to fight them while you were present. It would only distress you further and put you in unnecessary danger. So, with a slight nod, he left you in the barn once more, disappearing into the night to finish what he had started.

You curled up in your place, listening to the distant sounds of the fight as you let another wave of tears roll down your cheeks. The smell of blood and dirt surrounded you. You were covered in it —in dirt, from being pushed back and forth around the place; in your captor's sweat, after he threw his body over yours; and in his blood, thanks to Geralt's fierce but effective attack. It made you want to vomit. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and your mind was slowly beginning to understand the great danger you were in and how lucky you were that Geralt showed up when he did.

“Princess?” 

His voice brought you back to reality. He was kneeling beside you, looking at you with concern in those beautiful yellow eyes. The skin on his face was stained with a few drops of blood, as you imagined yours to be, but that did not lessen the softness of his expression. You threw yourself into his arms without a second thought, hiding your face in his neck as you sobbed in relief to know that the danger was over.

"It's okay, you're safe. I'm here, it's going to be okay." Geralt muttered against your hair, pulling you into his arms hoping that would be enough to help ease your nerves. 

He held you against his body for as long as you needed him to, stroking your back with his hand in a slow, delicate way to inspire some sense of calm in you. He didn't move for a moment, not even when your sobs began to fade and your breathing became regular. No, Geralt waited for you to make the first move, breaking away from him when you were ready to do so. 

"It's all right. You're fine. Just breathe with me. In...and out...in...and out. All right." 

You let the soft but deep tone of his voice slowly wash away the paralyzing fear and nerves that plagued you. You focused on the warmth of his body and the way his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safe. You mimicked the rhythm of his breathing, letting him slowly guide you back to normal. 

When you opened your eyes again the world around you was no longer spinning. Your vision was still a little blurry from the tears, but you could make out perfectly the yellow eyes, bright as the summer sun, watching you carefully.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a small smile. "Did they hurt you?" You shook your head. Most of the blood on you at that moment wasn't yours, thankfully. Beyond a couple of bruises on your wrists from the bindings, and a split lip from a slap, you weren't injured. Your head hurt and you had twisted your ankle in an attempt to escape but it was nothing you couldn't handle.

"Who were they?" You asked in a shaky voice as you tried to stand up. You winced in pain as you put weight on your injured foot, but Geralt caught you in his arms before you lost your balance.

"Trust me, you're not going to like the answer to that."

A collective sigh was heard as you and Geralt entered the war room, where the king and queen were coordinating a rescue party with some soldiers and half of the suitors present at the banquet. It was a sigh of surprise rather than relief. It was clear that no one expected to see you there, much less with the disheveled appearance you had. 

Your mother was the first to react, running up to you with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't bring herself to hug you, the blood that stained your ball gown was still fresh, so she settled for holding your cheeks in her hands while repeating over and over again how happy she was that you were safe. Your father reacted by sending the guards to arrest Geralt as his worried mind believed that the witcher somehow had something to do with your kidnapping. You had to stand between them, taking your savior's hand in yours to make your position clear. 

"What you imply is ridiculous! He saved me, father. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." you stated firmly, keeping your head held high and holding back tears in your eyes. 

"He very well could still be behind all this. He's a witcher who wasn't officially invited to the festivities and conveniently vanished in the middle of the night without a word. No one can attest to him but that bard..."

"No offense, your majesty, but I just felt as though the situation was not being treated with the necessary urgency." Geralt interjected, speaking in a calm and slightly defiant tone. "I knew for a fact that she couldn't be far away and that time was of the essence, but everyone at that feast seemed more interested in proving themselves worthy of glory and respect than saving your daughter's life. I just did what had to be done."

"How dare you speak that way about these noble men, witcher! Any one of them would be more than willing to give his life for my daughter!"

"He is right, father. If you want to find a culprit, you should direct your gaze to Lord Einar."

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. But his gaze was focused on you, staring at you with a fury you didn't know if the others were able to detect. He took a step forward and you tightened your grip on Geralt's hand, instinctively seeking his support. He stuck to your side, silently letting you know that he was ready to come between him and you if necessary —though he seriously doubted that Einar would be stupid enough to try to hurt you in front of the king.

"This is absurd!" Lord Einar complained with exaggerated outrage. "I will not allow myself to be disrespected in this way! I was invited to this feast to formalize my interest in the princess, which is greater than that of anyone in this room, if I may add. Have you forgotten that it was I who noticed the princess's strange disappearance? If I had not gone out to look for her, perhaps the news of her disappearance would have come too late. And may I remind you, your majesty, that it was I who first offered my services to bring her back safe and sound."

"That was the plan, wasn't it?" Geralt spoke through gritted teeth. "To pay some coins to a bunch of desperate bastards to take her so that you could rescue her and thus win her and the king's heart."

"I will not allow this... thing to disrespect me like this!"

"Your scent was on their clothes. Your name was the last thing they uttered before I slit their throats. You knew you didn't stand a chance with her, so you found a way to force your name to the top of the list."

Intimidated by Geralt's cold, hard stare, Lord Einar turned to look at the king. "These are nothing more than baseless accusations made by someone who clearly wants to distract us from his own guilt and involvement." he said, keeping his head held high as he lied through his teeth. "I beg you, my king, to consider punishment for this insolent witcher."

"Is this proof enough for you?" you snapped, tossing an object on the table. 

After the bandits were dead, Geralt had searched their bodies for some kind of proof that their words were true. That's how he had found a ring in the pocket of one of them that clearly didn't belong to them. It was made of a fine metal and in the center, engraved in gold, was the seal of a noble family: the Blakesley family.

The ring rolled against the dark wood, exposing Lord Einar's lies with each flick of the ring before the gaze of all present. There was nothing he could say to avoid the punishment that was coming, so when your father gave the order and the guards took him by force, he decided to take his rage out on you. His voice echoed through the corridors as he was escorted to the dungeon, shouting a string of insults at you. He questioned your honor and your ability as a ruler, claiming that he only wanted to marry you to ensure that the kingdom would not perish when your father died. 

Those were nothing more than the words of an unstable man who was filled with spite, angered by your rejection. You knew it meant nothing, but you still couldn't help but feel humiliated as he shouted all those things in front of so many people. Your eyes filled with tears and you clung to Geralt almost instinctively, hiding your face in his neck so no one would see you cry. He wrapped his arms around you, ignoring the very unfriendly looks that several of the men in the room gave him. 

Your mother ordered the room to be emptied, realizing that the crowd was doing nothing to help your condition. The last thing you needed at that moment was to feel watched and judged by a bunch of people, so she personally closed the doors behind the last guard to leave the room.

"You should take a long bath, my love. I'll send someone to prepare the tub and clean clothes for you. That will certainly make you feel better." Your mother spoke in a soft voice, placing a hand on your back. "And you, witcher, are more than welcome to stay tonight. I'll have a room prepared for you and bring you some clean clothes. We can talk more in the morning."

You gave your mother a smile as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, trying to convince her that you were fine. She knew you weren't, but she also knew you well enough not to push you at that moment. So she left the room without adding anything else, leaving you alone with Geralt once again.

"Thank you... for everything." Your voice broke the silence, your eyes traveling from the door to Geralt's face. "I just realized I didn't thank you yet." 

"You don't have to." He didn't need to hear it from your mouth, he could see in your eyes how grateful you were. Your expression hadn't changed much since he had found you, even though you tried hard to hide it, there were still traces of fear and distress in your eyes.

"Of course I have to! You have saved me from a terrible fate, not only at the hands of those bandits, but also at the hands of that... man." There were other words with which you would have liked to describe him, but you decided it was not appropriate for you to utter them. He didn't even deserve that from you. "I'm glad you were dragged here... I don't know what would have become of me without you tonight, Geralt."

The room fell silent as you looked into each other's eyes. You lost yourself in the amber that surrounded his pupils —which seemed to be more dilated, although it could well be an effect of the light, you thought—, trying to discover the secrets hidden in his eyes. Geralt was not easy to read, no matter how hard you tried, you had no idea of the things that could be going through his head at that moment. And yet, there was something in his eyes that calmed you. When he looked back at you, there was a softness in them that invited you to continue to admire them forever. It was a connection unlike anything you had ever felt before. It piqued your curiosity and some other things you didn't quite know how to explain. 

Your hand was still intertwined with Geralt's and you weren't entirely sure for how long. Although you weren't complaining, you found the warmth of his skin against yours extremely comforting. It made you feel less alone, less vulnerable. You trusted him with your life, you knew that as long as he was around nothing bad could happen to you. And boy did you need that at that moment. You were still quite affected by everything that had happened and the idea of being alone terrified you. You needed company, but not just anyone. You needed his company.

"Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?" you broke the silence, clearing your throat to make sure your voice sounded firm. "My foot still hurts a little and I wouldn't want to fall down the stairs."

It was a foolish excuse. You knew it. Geralt knew it. The twisted foot you got while struggling with your captors was not a cause for concern. It hurt a little, yes, but you could still walk normally. All you wanted was an excuse not to be separated from Geralt and luckily for you, he played along. He allowed you to take his arm for stability and walked with you to your quarters. You appreciated his proximity, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against yours as his warmth enveloped you. But unfortunately it only seemed to aggravate his absence when he pulled away from you, willing to leave you alone so you could rest.

Your hand closed around his arm almost as an unwilling reflex. Your body craved his closeness. Your mind needed his company to be at ease. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't let Geralt leave. Not tonight at least. His eyes lingered on your hand, admiring how small it appeared when compared to his arm, before he looked up into your eyes, searching your expression for an explanation.

"Stay, please." Your voice was almost a whisper. Your eyes had trouble making eye contact with him for the first time since you had met. Geralt knew then that you were embarrassed of uttering those words. "I need you. I... I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Are you sure?" He said after a few seconds of silence, his expression firm but gentle. You nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes as you released his arm from your grip. Geralt sighed and finally crossed the threshold of the door, closing it behind him. 

Geralt allowed you to guide him across the room to a door that hid a large private bathtub on the other side. It was already filled with water and salts, ready for you to use it. Everything smelled of you, of that delicious combination of jasmine and vanilla that Geralt found so special. It was intoxicating, like he was breathing in your scent straight from the source. 

"Would you mind helping me with the lace?" Your voice brought him back to reality. Geralt watched as you turned around, gathering your hair over one of your shoulders to expose your back to him so he could unfasten your dress. He knew it was inappropriate and that he was probably breaking some rule —not to mention, taking advantage of the king's hospitality—, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when you were offering yourself to him like that.

Geralt's hands caressed your back first, his fingers slowly tracing a path from your shoulders to where the lacing of your dress ended. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as you felt him slowly loosen your dress. You could feel his imposing figure towering over you. He was so close that you could hear his breathing and feel the heat radiating from his body. You liked the proximity, probably more than you should.

When Geralt finished his work and your dress began to slide down your shoulders, you knew you should have been embarrassed. You were used to being naked in front of servants, but they were always women you trusted, handmaidens who had taken care of you since you were little and helped you dress or bathe. You had never been so exposed in front of a man before and you should definitely feel ashamed, but you were not. You simply let the dress fall to your feet and stepped into the tub as if there was no man present.

The water was warm and the tub was deep enough to hide your modesty if you sat in the right position. The dim candlelight also helped, though ultimately you really didn't mind feeling Geralt's gaze on your body.

"Join me, please. The water's nice and there's room enough for both of us."

Your curious eyes unashamedly traced the muscles of his arms and torso as he revealed himself to you. You noticed the scars that marked his skin, some smaller and some larger, and you couldn't help but wonder what the stories behind them were. Geralt was an exceptional man, unlike anyone you had ever met in your life. He was so rigid and reserved, and yet he had shown nothing but kindness and gentleness in your presence. He was a mystery and you wanted nothing more than to discover what he hid behind those beautiful amber eyes.

Out of respect —and some embarrassment—, you looked away as his hands undid the buttons of his pants. You focused your attention on the jasmine petals floating in the water, feeling your cheeks grow warm as a small voice in your head encouraged you to look up. 

Geralt settled next to you in the tub, avoiding being too close or sitting in front of you so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious in his presence. However, you needed his closeness, so you shortened the distance as much as you could, pressing your arm against his. When he didn't complain, you went a step further and rested your head on his shoulder. Geralt stood still for a moment, debating once again whether his actions were appropriate, but in the end he relaxed. 

He put his arm around your shoulders, effectively pulling you closer to him. A smile formed on your lips as you adjusted yourself in the new position, hiding your face in his neck. Geralt's fingers traced soft lines on the skin of your arm, a caress that both relaxed and excited you. That kind of intimacy was something new to you. Feeling his naked skin against yours, inhaling that musky scent mixed with something you couldn't describe as anything but his own essence, feeling the soft caresses of his calloused fingers, everything made you feel a certain way inside. You didn't have the exact words to describe it. It was like a flame, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and exciting. Ultimately, you didn't care about being able to put a name to what you felt. You just wanted to stay close to Geralt for as long as you were allowed.

Without even realizing it, your hand traveled up to his chest, your curious fingers tracing the jagged lines that marked his skin. You used the scars as a map to his body, letting them guide your path as you explored his chest with your touch. And as your fingers moved, you imagined the heroic stories behind each one, wondering what kind of monsters had inflicted them and if there were any that were human-made.

"I wonder how many princesses you've saved to end up like this." You broke the silence, your voice soft as you got lost in thought. It was mostly a joke, but there was some genuine curiosity hidden in it. 

"Surprisingly, less than you're probably imagining."

You didn't quite know why, but hearing Geralt say that put a smile on your lips. It made you feel special, in a way. He hadn't been hired to save you —technically he hadn't even been invited to the party—, he had no obligation to you or your family, and yet he had risked his life to help you. There was something in you that awakened in him his noblest instincts.

"I'm sure that's what you tell everyone." You laughed, looking up at him from your position on his shoulder. You could admire his profile, his sharp jawline and the way his lips curved upward slightly as he let out a huff.

"Often delicate young women like you find my methods to be too... grotesque. They don't see me as being much different from the monsters I kill." Geralt spoke honestly, remembering the horrified expressions on the faces of the maidens he had sought to save from danger in his past, when he had little experience as a witcher. He was young and naive at the time and believed he could use his skills for more than just hunting monsters. After all, evil came in all shapes and sizes, even in humans. It didn't take him long to understand that humans didn't see a knight of noble spirit when he intervened in such situations, only a mutant designed to kill.

You noticed his thoughtful expression, his eyes looking straight ahead as if his mind was transporting him to another place. You wondered what kind of memories he might have swirling around in his head at that moment, outraged to think that someone could treat him badly after he saved their life. You admitted that he had quite an imposing figure and that his expression wasn't very friendly most of the time, but you still couldn't understand how anyone could be afraid of him. Even before he saved you —when he was just a stranger who took the time to listen to your problems— you saw nothing threatening in him. His beautiful yellow eyes inspired nothing but trust in you from the first moment you made contact with them.

“Then they were all fools." You sat up straight, one hand resting on Geralt's cheek to force him to look at you. "I don't understand how anyone could look at you and see danger in you. Even covered in blood, all I see is... safety and comfort." You gave him a small smile as your finger carefully wiped a small spot of blood from his cheek.

"Or maybe you're being naively nice."

Geralt took a cloth that rested on the edge of the tub and dipped it in the warm water. Then one of his hands cupped your chin, tilting your face slightly so he could get a better look at you in the candlelight. The flames danced in the air, creating shadows on your delicate skin. But even in the dim light he could still see the splashes of blood that stained your beautiful face. They made such a contrast that it was impossible to ignore them. The implication of such a violent act had no place on the delicate face of a princess like you. He hated to see the scratch on your lip, the dirt on your cheeks, the dried blood on your skin. You should not have been subjected to such horrors and he wanted to do everything in his power to erase the evidence from your body. So Geralt took the trouble to wipe the blood away, carefully running the wet cloth over your skin until it was all gone.

You remained silent as he worked on you, completely immobile while you watched him closely. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, but his expression was gentle. His hands moved delicately over your skin, as if he was afraid of breaking you if he wasn't careful. You could barely feel the cloth brushing against your cheek from how slow and gentle Geralt was being. But his fingers... his fingers were another story.

They were warm against your skin, caressing every little spot the cloth passed through to soothe any possible irritation the fabric might arouse. They awakened a tingling sensation as they traveled down your face. When they reached your neck, you knew that Geralt could feel the accelerated pulsing of your heart against his fingertips. It was impossible that he couldn't when you could hear the beating in your ears yourself. His hands felt so big against your neck. If he wanted to hurt you, he could probably do it with just one hand. That should have scared you, considering he was a man you barely knew, but it didn't. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you, not when he caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbones with such gentleness.

"Maybe I'm naive," you broke the silence, your voice barely more audible than a whisper. "But I honestly don't think a mutant designed to kill, as you say, would go to the trouble of caring for me the way you are doing."

Geralt's eyes looked up at you, that intriguing yellow you loved so much capturing you in a transe. They were calling you, daring you to dive into the ocean of honey and mystery that was his gaze. And you obeyed without the slightest resistance, letting your heart take the reins of your body. You leaned towards him, slowly. His hands were still on your neck, but he didn't use them to stop you. On the contrary, he leaned towards you too and when your lips finally collided, he used his grip on your jaw to deepen the kiss.

The kiss started slow, a quick brush of your lips as you finally let yourselves indulge in your deepest desires. But as you became more comfortable in each other's arms, the kiss intensified. You let Geralt guide you, knowing that he would undoubtedly have more experience than you. You surrendered to his lips and the caresses of his tongue, giving yourself to him completely as you struggled to keep up with him. 

That wasn't your first kiss, however, it was the first kiss that felt like this, so... intense, passionate. You barely remembered the boy who had given you your first kiss, but you knew you would remember Geralt for the rest of your life. You didn't know how he did it, but the simple touch of his lips and the strokes of his fingers on your skin turned you to mush between his hands. You had never felt anything like it before and you didn't want to stop. But despite your protests, Geralt suddenly pulled away from you.

"What are you doing?" He didn't sound annoyed or confused, more concerned. 

"I'm taking control of my life." You leaned into him once more and Geralt accepted your kiss, his desperate lips demonstrating his true intentions. He let his desires consume him for a moment before regaining control over his body and pulling away from you again.

"Are you sure?" It wasn't that he wanted to stop, but the voice of morality in the back of his mind compelled him to make sure you wanted the same. He needed to know that he wasn't taking advantage of you, that you weren't throwing yourself into his arms as a result of your vulnerable state after the attack.

"For as long as I can remember, I have always dreamed of meeting a noble prince who would protect me from danger. We would fall in love and live a long and happy life together after our marriage. Now I know that is impossible. I cannot choose who I marry. I cannot choose to marry for love. There's nothing I can do to change it, that's just the way things work." You paused, your hands reaching for Geralt's to entwine your fingers. "But I can still choose who to give myself to, body and soul, for the first time... and you're the closest thing I have to that fantasy."

There was a sadness in your eyes that made Geralt feel bad for you. He didn't know you very well, but he knew you deserved better than a future you didn't want. The inability to choose your own path in life was something that seemed to affect you greatly, and if he was able to bring you some peace he was willing to do so. But the tub full of dirty water was not the place for it, much less considering it would be your first experience of something like that. 

"Speak freely." You said after a few seconds of unbearable silence. "If you don't want to be with me because you don't like me I'll understand. But please don't turn me down just because you think you're guarding my honor or something. I want this... I want you."

Those last words seemed to do the trick, because Geralt's lips joined yours once again. Only this time the kiss was different, much slower and more sensual, though just as desperate. His lips moved in time with yours, tongues intertwined in a sinful dance as Geralt allowed his hands to slowly explore your body. His fingers ignited flames on your skin in their path, pleasure and anticipation building inside you. 

The water in the tub swirled violently as Geralt lifted you into his arms, moving you to sit on his lap as if you weighed nothing. You clung to his shoulders for support, feeling his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your hips. But it didn't hurt, at least not in a bad way. It was a pleasant ache that made you feel alive. Just like his kisses, which trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. 

Geralt's kisses continued their way down and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his when his lips closed over your nipple. You pushed your chest into him instinctively, giving yourself to him as one of your hands got lost in his hair. Pure pleasure traveled through your veins as his tongue played with your breasts, giving attention to one before moving on to the other. He held you tightly against his body, one strong arm stretched across your back while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his growing erection. 

You both moaned as your cunt made contact with his cock. The sensation you felt when the tip brushed against your little bundle of nerves was unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure was much more intense, much more raw. You could feel it spreading through your body and into your bones. So, naturally, you sought it again, creating a rhythm that had you panting in no time. 

You were forced to stop when Geralt suddenly stood up, carrying you in his arms. Your moan of pleasure turned into a cry of surprise, the water in the tub moving violently, flooding the room as he moved towards the exit. You clung to his shoulders, afraid of falling, as you asked him what he was doing.

"We can't do it here. It has to be done properly, in a bed where you’ll be comfortable, and not in a bathtub full of filthy water."

You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you understood the meaning of his words. Once again, Geralt was looking after you, worrying about you and your well-being more than any other man in your life had ever done. He wanted to make things right, to make sure that your first sexual encounter was a positive experience. And while he wasn't exactly the man you had imagined doing it with, he was quite close to it. Every thing he said, every gesture he made to you, made you feel more confident in your decision.

Geralt carefully laid you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before continuing his assault on your body. He kissed you again and, as you let his tongue explore your mouth, you couldn't help but think how much bigger he felt now that he was leaning over you. He had one arm on either side of your head, holding himself up so he wouldn't crush you with his weight. One of his toned legs rested in between yours, keeping you open and exposed to him. You were essentially trapped under his body, completely at his mercy, and you liked it.

The pleasure building up inside you was starting to feel too overwhelming. As much as you enjoyed Geralt's wet kisses, you needed more. You needed relief. So you pushed your hips into him once more, seeking that intoxicating pleasure you'd felt in the bathtub. Your wet pussy slid easily up his thigh and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body. 

"Fuck!" Geralt moaned as he felt your wetness trickling down his leg. You looked so sensual moving your hips against him with adoring desperation, struggling to find some relief. The little moans that fell from your lips in between ragged breaths drove him crazy, making it difficult for him to control his instincts. He had to be gentle with you, it was your first time and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't pin you down and fuck you until your legs shook.

"Tell me, princess, have you ever touched yourself?" Geralt spoke against your skin as his lips continued their path of wet kisses down your body. "Perhaps when you were alone at night, hidden in the darkness of your chambers."

It took you a few seconds to process Geralt's words, your mind distracted with the way his kisses slowly trailed down your chest, barely pausing on your breasts before continuing to travel down. It made your body tremble with anticipation, wondering what he was up to. He was watching you from his position on your abdomen, lips barely pulling away from your skin so he could observe your face more comfortably, waiting for an answer. The color of his eyes had darkened, the yellow glowing like the flames of the candles that lit the room. There was hunger in them. Geralt was looking at you like a wolf at its prey. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, managing to answer him with a simple negative shake of your head. 

"So you don't know what real pleasure feels like, huh?" You weren't sure if it was a question for you, but you shook your head again anyway. You felt Geralt's lips curving into a smile against the sensitive skin of your lower belly and a shiver ran down your spine when you heard his next words. "I'm going to change that."

Despite the firmness in his voice, Geralt was slow and gentle with each movement he made next. He was careful to position himself between your legs, pushing them open and revealing your most secret part to his hungry gaze. He noticed almost immediately the way you tensed with embarrassment, feeling vulnerable, so he was quick to spread sweet kisses on your right thigh, while gently caressing the skin of your left. He could smell the scent of your arousal with every breath he took. It was intoxicating, the sweet nectar he had been waiting to taste all this time. But first he had to make sure you were comfortable. He was there to pleasure you, nothing mattered if you didn't enjoy it.

"It's okay, my sweet. You don't have to be ashamed, you're beautiful." He spoke against your skin, his voice a raspy, sensual, whisper. "I have to get you ready for my cock, all right? This will feel so good, I promise. But if it doesn't, I want you to tell me, can you do that?" You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. "I need you to use your words."

"Yes, Geralt, I will."

"Good."

Geralt gave you a few seconds to relax before diving into your cunt, spreading wet kisses down your inner thighs as he got closer and closer to the place where you needed him most. When his tongue finally made contact with the sweet nectar trickling down your folds, he let out a sound that vibrated in his chest with force. All hint of self-control disappeared then, buried under the primal desire that the taste of your arousal awakened in him.

He ate you like a starving man, his tongue exploring your most intimate place with expert skill. Your hips jolted as his lips closed over your small bundle of nerves, your whole body convulsing as you felt pleasure like you had never felt before. It was so intense it was almost too much. It scared you in a way, as it felt like your own body didn't respond to you —like it didn't belong to you. It belonged to Geralt now, and only responded to the stimulation he gave your body.  You were torn between the need to pull away from his entrancing lips —which were no doubt uttering some spell to claim ownership of your innocence— and your body's carnal desire to surrender to his clever tricks in order to continue to feel such pure pleasure.

"Does it feel good, princess?" Geralt spoke between your legs, his warm breath crashing against your pussy and sending shivers down your spine. 

"Yes! So good... please don't stop." You didn't recognize your own voice as you spoke. It sounded raspy from all the moaning, and there was a hint of desperation you'd never heard in yourself before. It wasn't the first time you had begged someone for something you wanted, but it was the first time you actually meant it.

"I won't, I promise. I'm here to make you feel good." Geralt assured between slow, long licks, focusing his attention on your clit before continuing. "But if you're going to take my cock, I'll need to stretch your tight hole." You tensed again and once more he used his strategy of stroking and kissing your thighs to calm you down. You knew that penetration was an important part of the whole thing and you were ready to face it, but still, the unknown scared you a little. "I'm going to insert a finger inside you, is that all right my sweet? It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it will feel great afterwards. But first I have to know that you still want this."

"Yes, Geralt, I want this. I trust you, please." You gave him a shy smile, looking at him with complete admiration. He saw the desire in your eyes, mixed with anticipation and a hint of fear. But you were confident in your decision, so he continued.

"Relax, I'm going to take care of you." He murmured against your skin, his kisses slowly moving closer to your wet cunt. "Just focus on the pleasure."

Geralt's voice echoed in your mind, your body obeying his commands as if he had cast a spell over you that left you with no other choice. You focused on the fire burning inside you, on the skillful way he flicked his tongue against your abused bundle of nerves and on the knot in your stomach that tightened with each passing second. You tried not to tense up as you felt Geralt's finger press against your entrance, biting your lip and taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. His tongue was doing a good job of distracting you, but you could still feel the slightly painful drag of his finger inside you. 

"You're doing so well for me." Geralt complimented you, keeping his finger still inside you to give you time to get used to the new sensation. You couldn't hide how much it pleased you to hear those words, because your walls clenched around his finger, revealing your deepest desires. Geralt grunted against your pussy, fantasizing about how good your tight hole would feel around his cock. 

It took you a moment to get used to the strange sensation of his intrusion. It wasn't painful exactly, mostly uncomfortable since your walls weren't used to stretching like that. But eventually the discomfort faded into pleasure, bringing new sensations as he slowly began to move his finger inside you. 

Your moans became uncontrollable, increasing in volume with each of Geralt's caresses. If you weren't so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would have worried about the possibility of being overheard by some servant or guard walking down the corridor. You knew it might potentially ruin your reputation, but you couldn't focus on anything other than the way Geralt's long, thick finger stretched you, making you feel full in the most pleasurable way possible. 

"Geralt I-" You tried to speak, but the air caught in your throat as you felt the knot in your stomach becoming incredibly tight, threatening to snap.

"I know, my sweet, I know." Geralt interrupted you as he noticed your trouble forming coherent sentences. He could sense you were getting close to relief in the way your walls tightened around his finger, your juices dripping down your legs and soaking his hand. "Just let yourself go. I've got you."

Geralt added another finger inside you, stretching your walls even further. He was careful, his movements slow and precise as he both prepared you for his cock and brought you closer to the edge. His mouth focused on your clit, his lips closing around your sensitive pearl as his fingers explored your insides, reaching that spongy place deep inside you and rubbing it until your whole body shuddered with your orgasm.

It felt like your insides exploded, the tension that had been building in your core suddenly snapping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Your mind went blank, eyes rolling back as Geralt did his best to hold back the violent spasms of your muscles. 

And then your body fell limp on the sheets. You could barely hear the world around you over your racing heartbeat that throbbed in your ears. You knew Geralt was muttering things against your skin as he kissed his way back up, but your mind was too lost in the pleasure to make sense of his words. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, your body desperate for oxygen as it struggled to regain control.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a soft smile as you opened your eyes, his face slowly coming into focus on your clouded vision. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine! That was..." you paused, searching for the words to describe it. Although explaining your feelings proved to be more difficult than you expected. You were convinced that there were no words in any language you knew to describe what he had made you feel. So you let out an airy laugh, hiding your face in his neck and spreading small kisses over his skin.

"Do you still want to go through with this?" Geralt asked you, pulling away from you a little so he could look into your eyes. You kissed him back, tasting the sweet flavor of your arousal on his tongue. It was strangely erotic for you to feel your own essence on him, like a mark that, though temporary, showed to whom his lips belonged. It sent a rush of desire and confidence through your body, igniting the fire inside you once more.

The pressure of his cock was nothing like his fingers. While the stretching sensation was not completely foreign to you, Geralt's cock was much longer and thicker than his fingers so it hurt a lot more when he began to push it into you. The mixture of your arousal and his saliva helped his member slide more easily through your walls, but you still couldn't hold back the whine of pain, which vibrated against Geralt's lips. 

"It's all right... you're all right. Just a little more." He crooned as he rested his forehead against yours. His fingers caressed the skin of your hip, giving you comfort as you clung to his shoulders. "You're doing so good for me, my sweet." His voice was soft, but erratic, laced with the clear pleasure that sliding so torturously slow inside your tight walls brought him. 

Geralt remained immobile once he bottomed out, spreading kisses all over your face and neck as he gave you time to adjust to his size. It was the hardest task he had ever had to do in his life. Facing any monster was easier than staying still when your warm, wet walls wrapped around him so well. He was desperate to move, pull out of you almost completely only to slam back in, thrusting his hips against yours as he pinned you against the bed. But it was your first time, so he had to be gentle with you. You weren't ready for that kind of rough loving, so Geralt pushed his dark desires aside and waited for you to give him the signal to move. 

After a while, your moans of discomfort turned into whimpers of protest, not from pain, but from the growing fire inside you that wasn't being tended to. You experimentally moved your hips against Geralt's, just to see what it would feel like. It was a small movement, but it was enough to push his cock deeper inside you, sparking a pleasurable tingling sensation that spread throughout your body. So you did it again, moving with more confidence this time. And again, only this time, Geralt met you halfway, grinding his hips against yours.

Your walls tightened around his cock and the growl that escaped his lips was so deep and primal that it almost pushed you over the edge once more. Something about knowing that you were the cause of those moans, that your body, your pussy, your caresses, were responsible for such reactions was so arousing. Knowing that even though you were inexperienced you were able to elicit such pleasure in him made you feel more comfortable and confident. You were turning his world upside down as much as he was turning yours.

"You look so beautiful like this." Geralt said as he slightly increased the rhythm of his hips. "So small and fragile underneath me, eyes filled with lust as you try your best to take me in your tight hole." 

You moaned into his mouth, desperately searching his lips for something to keep you grounded as pleasure took over your body and mind. Your cunt clenched at his words, finding the mix of softness and roughness in his action incredibly arousing. His hips moved against yours in a consistent and deep, yet slow and sensual rhythm. His calloused fingers roamed over your body, caressing you in such a subtle way that it gave you goosebumps. His filthy words perfectly balanced flattery and roughness, awakening feelings you didn't know you had. It was all a dangerous, overwhelming mix, slowly getting to you close to the edge.

"Does it feel good? Do you like feeling me deep inside you?" You could only moan incoherently in response, hiding your face in the crook of Geralt's neck as your nails dug into his back. "I like it too. You feel so good wrapped around me, my perfect princess."

"Yes, I'm yours! I'm all yours, please..." You begged, for what, you weren't sure. But that didn't really matter, you just wanted Geralt to do whatever he wanted with you. You knew there was no future in your relationship, but this was no time to think about tomorrow. At that moment you were giving yourself body and soul to him, allowing him permission to use and explore your body as he wished.

"Yes you are, but not just for tonight." Geralt moaned in your ear, his voice a deep hoarse whisper. He sucked a mark just below your earlobe, nibbling the sensitive area playfully before continuing to speak. "You will always remember this night and think of me when your future husband takes you to bed on your wedding night. He's not going to compare to me... to how good I'm making you feel. But that's fine, because at least you had a chance to know what it feels like to be adored like you truly deserve, my princess."

"Fuck, Geralt! I'm-" Your warning was interrupted by a moan as you felt him sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck at the same time he pushed his member incredibly deep inside you.

"I know, I can feel you squeezing me so tight. It's alright, just let go for me, my sweet. I want to feel you as you come undone on my cock." 

His hand traveled south, calloused fingers pressing against your abused bundle of nerves, drawing circles over it. The way your pussy clenched around his cock made it hard to focus, his own orgasm approaching with alarming speed. But he kept a steady rhythm, his hips moving in a slow, sensual way to make sure his cock brushed that special place inside you without causing you any pain.

"That's it, keep making those pretty notices for me. You're doing so good for me, my beautiful, perfect, princess. Just let go, I've got you. You're safe with me, just let go."

It was the softness in his husky voice that finally pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Geralt's name was the last thing you uttered before the world around you disappeared behind the waves of pleasure. It was a pathetic whimper, a plea for mercy as you felt frightened by the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Geralt was sure he had never heard a more sensual melody. The way you had uttered his name just before the pleasure exploded inside you was something he was never going to forget.

"That's it, my sweet. You did such a good job for me." He complimented you, slowing down the rhythm of his hips to give you time to recover. "You're alright. I'm here, I've got you. Just breathe... that's it." 

Geralt's voice helped you refocus on the real world, his sweet kisses slowly lifting the fog that clouded your mind. You could still feel him inside you, his cock throbbing desperate for relief. The shallow thrusts weren't enough and you needed to feel him falling apart inside you. You needed to know what it felt like to have a man —and especially him— come inside you. And you knew it was safe with him since witchers were incapable of fathering children as a result of their mutations.

"Geralt, please... I want to feel you." You managed to say between gasps, locking your legs around his hips to keep him in place, pressed inside you. He let out a deep growl as he understood the meaning behind your words, his eyes darkening with lust. You were definitely going to be the death of him.

"Of course, my sweet, how could I deny you anything?" He murmurs against your lips, slowly increasing the rhythm of his hips. "You want to feel my seed deep inside you, is that it? You want me to fill you up, leave a part of me inside you so you won't miss me so much when I'm gone?"

His words alone were enough to ignite that flame inside you again. Your body was tired, but still screamed for more. Geralt's thrusts became erratic with each passing second, desperate to reach his own relief. And in the search for his pleasure he was taking you with him to a new limit. 

"I will give it to you, my princess. I will give you all of me. I could never deny you anything, my sweet, beautiful girl."

His sweet words contrasted with the harshness of his movements, hips crashing against yours in desperate thrusts. He was getting closer to his relief and he could feel in the way your cunt clenched around his cock that you were too. His thumb focused on your clit once more, one, two, three strokes accompanied by his thrusts and you were crying his name again. But he didn't get to enjoy much of the way you tightened around him, because he came seconds later, shooting his load deep inside you.

Geralt collapsed on top of you, his body crushing you against the bed as you both tried to catch your breath. But even though he was much bigger than you, it wasn't an uncomfortable position. The weight of his body felt comforting against yours. You liked the way he hid his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your sweaty skin. It gave you the opportunity to stroke his back and run your fingers through his hair. It felt intimate, in a completely different way than the sex you'd just had. 

You whined in protest as he rolled to the side, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his sliding down your legs now that his cock had left you. It was a strange sensation to feel empty without him inside you. You didn't know such a feeling was possible, for you that used to be normal, the only way to feel. But now that you had had Geralt buried deep inside you, that you had felt his seed filling you to the brim, you would always be aware of that strange emptiness between your legs.

"How are you feeling?" you heard him say and you struggled to open your eyes, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He was standing at the foot of the bed, a cloth in his hand, and you wondered when he had moved from your side without you noticing.

"Great! That was... great." You mumbled, still unable to find an adequate word to describe how good he had made you feel.

Geralt gave you a small smile before lowering his face to your legs, placing small kisses on your skin as he moved closer and closer to your center. "Open up for me, my princess. I need to clean you." 

You reluctantly complied, feeling much more exposed and vulnerable now that the deed was done. However, he was gentle with you, moving carefully as he cleaned you so as not to irritate your sensitive, abused cunt. And when he was done, he kissed his way down your face, caressing your skin with his lips, culminating his journey in your mouth.

"What about you?" you tried to sound casual as you spoke, though you failed miserably. "Was it... good for you too?" You immediately regretted your choice of words, worrying that you had ruined the moment.

"I thought I had been quite clear if not with my words, with my actions at least." Geralt let out an airy laugh and you followed suit, feeling a little more relieved. 

Then the room fell into silence. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one, but a peaceful one. You got lost in Geralt's eyes, admiring the yellow glow that was much softer now, though just as captivating. The candlelight reflected in them in a special way, highlighting their unique beauty. You could stare at them for hours if it weren't for the tiredness that was slowly beginning to take hold of you. 

You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until you felt Geralt move beside you. You stopped feeling the weight of his body on the bed, so you opened your eyes immediately. Your hand flew to his arm, fingers closing around his wrist. "Please don't go," you begged as you saw that he had sat up in bed. "I want you to stay with me tonight."

Geralt smiled, the corners of his lip curving slightly upward as he reached out with his free arm to grab the blanket that had been left forgotten at the foot of the bed. His eyes lowered to your hand and his expression turned hard as he noticed the ligature marks on your skin. He hated to know the horrible treatment that someone as delicate and beautiful as you had to go through at the hands of those bandits. Even though he had rescued you before something even worse happened to you, as he looked at the marks on your wrists he feared he had not been quick enough.

Noticing the change in his expression, your eyes followed Geralt's gaze with curiosity. You felt embarrassed when you realized what he was looking at with such intensity and released his grip on his arm, seeking to hide your injured wrist. But he didn't let you. Geralt intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand to his lips. His eyes didn't break contact with you as he scattered delicate kisses over the irritated area of your wrist, showing you that you had nothing to be ashamed of with him.

"I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to, my princess. I'm here to serve you tonight." Geralt said as he lay down next to you once again, covering you both with the blanket.

You took advantage of his words and his desire to please you by curling up against him, resting your head on his chest. Geralt wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you even tighter against his body as he let his fingers trace invisible patterns on your skin. It was extremely relaxing, his gentle touch and the warmth of his body enveloping you was exactly what your tired mind needed to rest. All the fear, the terrifying memories of your attackers and the feeling of danger completely disappeared as he held you in his arms. 

"Good, because I feel safer when I'm in your arms." You mumbled as you closed your eyes, feeling sleep slowly overcome you.

It was hard to say goodbye to Geralt when the time came for him to leave. He had only stayed at the castle for a couple of days at your father's insistence, but that had been more than enough for you to grow fond of him. He was not a very talkative person, but that only made your conversations more interesting. He was intriguing, a closed book that only opened with the pronunciation of the right words. You had fun unraveling some of his history, hearing about his adventures and the monsters he had faced. He was definitely the most interesting man you had ever met - far more interesting and noble than most of the men who were competing for your hand in marriage. And now you had to see him go.

You always knew that your days were numbered, that Geralt would eventually leave and you would have to go back to reality. You thought you could do it, enjoy his company and the illusion of freedom you had created with him and then say goodbye as if nothing happened, but you would be lying if you said you weren't a little sad about his departure. Especially because you didn't know if you would ever see him again. Maybe on your wedding day, if you invited Jaskier to play at the festivities he would bring him as security again. Or perhaps, if the kingdom was haunted by some evil creature he would find his way back to you. But nothing was certain and that made you feel quite sad.

"I guess this is our goodbye." You watched Geralt settle his horse's saddle, tucking away his swords and clutching his bag as he prepared to leave. You tried to hide the grimace of sadness that wanted to form on your face, but the disappointment in your voice betrayed you. "I'll never see you again, will I?"

Geralt stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes. You could have sworn you saw a glint of sadness in the golden fire of his irises, though it disappeared as he blinked. "It'll probably be a while, yeah." He sighed. "But nothing is set in stone. Maybe the search for a job will bring me back down these roads."

You smiled. Even moments before he left, he was still making an effort to make you feel good. "I'd like that." You took a couple of steps closer to him, taking his hand in yours to feel his skin against yours one last time. "The gates of this castle will always be open to you, Geralt of Rivia. And as long as I am alive, you will always find safe passage through these lands."

"Thank you, your highness. It is an honor." He bowed slightly even though he knew it was not necessary. Formalities had been forgotten between you since your night together. Then, he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips caressed your skin gently, planting a soft kiss of farewell. "Until we meet again."

You held back the urge you had to taste the flavor of his lips one last time, knowing that there were too many eyes around you that would deem such behavior inappropriate. And perhaps they were right, after all, a respectable maiden like you, in search of a husband to marry and rule with, could not be seen kissing anybody. You knew you would probably regret it for the rest of your life —especially if Geralt never stopped by again—, but it was the right thing to do. Your days of freedom were over, now you had to resume your responsibilities as a princess and that meant holding back the urge you had to run after Geralt, get on his horse and let him take you wherever he wanted. So you just watched him leave, seeing how his figure became smaller and smaller on the horizon while you wished with all your soul that fate would cross your path again.

[mostly-imagines]

answering a question nobody asked: what are jason's love languages ranked?

giving:

5 ) gift giving is bottom tier for him. i just dont see how he could value that more than any of the above because of the way he grew up. like material things and money seem like something he’d reject more than anything to me. but he does still give you presents, of course. he’ll buy you flowers randomly and jewelry and little things he’d noticed you admiring. but i dont think he really does it as a method of expressing his love for you so much as just like a little nice thing to do for you. its not his preferred method of communication, at least.

4 ) a little lower on the list comes words of affirmation because i don’t think it comes as naturally to him. he’s a man of few words and those chosen are caked in sarcasm and dry in a way that attempts to push people away, even if he doesn’t mean to. i just think his words can be rough around the edges even if his meaning isn’t. when he can work through it though, his words are very gentle and genuine. not one for hyperbole but really truly means what he says. he hears that you’re insecure about how a dress looks on you and he’s telling you to ‘shut up, you look good.’ or you’re nervous and he’ll say “you’re fine, don’t worry about it.” to someone else’s ears it might sound dismissive but you know that not how he means it. there’s a lot of unsaid words with him that are more significant than whats coming out of his mouth. like i said though, only like level 10 acquaintances and you will ever know him well enough to decipher those secret meanings.

3 ) he tends to treat himself like a loner, pulling away from people like second nature, but after he met you he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. he’s not the best with words or romantic gestures so quality time is an easier way of reminding you he loves you. he likes just sitting with you and letting you ramble about your day—listening to your voice is a big part of his calming down process every night. but sitting in comfortable silence with you is probably his favorite. he doesn’t get that with a lot of people. silence—sure; comfortable—not so much. he loves the implied intimacy and trust of quietly cooking, napping together, or doing your own things in the same space.

2 ) physical touch is another big one for him. only unlockable after entering a relationship with him. he does it for a lot of reasons, common ones include: as a reminder that he’s there, to ease anxiety (yours or his own), as a sort of fidget, or if he’s feeling a little possessive. its honestly going to shock his family how much he initiates touch with you. he’ll shove them off of him when they try to hug him and is likely to throw hands if they get too touchy. so when they meet you for the first time and he’s squeezing your hand in his the whole night, shoulder to shoulder with you—they’re surprised, to say the least. as time goes on they start to notice that he looks borderline uncomfortable when he’s not touching you—like he doesn’t know what to do with his body. his favorite ways to touch you (non sexually) include: keeping you pressed back to his chest, having your leg hooked atop his when you’re sitting hanging out, hand on the back of your neck, and hands on your hips are a must.

1 ) jason's prime method of communication is through acts of service. he fully believes it’s his responsibility to take care of you and doing things for you comes very naturally to him anyways. he’s known to refuse to let you carry things, let you have the comfortable chair, give you the last of his snack, that kind of thing. he also wants to make your life easier as much as possible—he’ll insist on you telling him about things you need, especially things you aren’t able to do yourself. you never ever have to hire a guy to come look at anything broken in your apartment, jason’s got that shit under wraps. he’d honestly be a little hurt if you did. he’s got a wide array of skills under his belt, he can fix leaky pipes, install locks, build furniture, repair cars, you name it.

receiving:

5 ) he always appreciates getting gifts from you but it’s not necessarily his preferred way of receiving your love. gift giving and acts of service are bottom tier because they’re the only ones that he feels like are taking away from you. costing you money or energy, wasting it on him—he doesn’t want you to do that. he can’t feel loved by the gesture when he’s busy concerning himself with the idea that he’s putting you out for it. when you do give him gifts he likes it most when they’re little things, especially things that you made. make him a friendship bracelet, a simple painting, a fucking paper crane—he’ll love it. with things like that, it makes him really happy to see how excited you are to show him and that’s when he feels the love from you.

4 ) it’s always a little hit or miss with acts of service. he has a hard time accepting help, especially from you. he tends to feel like its his job to take care of you and if you have to help him, he’s doing something wrong. the best way to perform acts of service for him is through littler things. cooking his favorite dinner, checking up on how his stitches are healing, covering him up when its cold and he’s too busy/stubborn to go get a blanket. don’t make a whole thing about it, just do it and he’ll notice and he’ll be thinking about it for a while.

3 ) for the same reasons as mentioned earlier, he loves quality time with you. he prefers being on the receiving end of it though because he is a little insecure and absolutely loves when you go out of your way to spend time with him. tell him you want to be around him, tell him you miss him, tell him you’re happy he’s here. warning: he might cry.

2 ) you’ll notice this one because his breath will literally hitch. physical touch is one of the most prominent methods of affection in your relationship and he never gets used to it. the presence of just your head on his shoulder or your hand in his provides such a noticeable release of tension for him. he’s a huge huge fan of you tracing patterns anywhere on his skin, playing with his hair, and wrapping your arms around his middle so you can hold him close. climb on his lap unexpectedly and his heart will skip a few beats.

1 ) he won't ever admit it, but words of affirmation are his absolute biggest weakness. your boy has a praise kink, but i also think it's difficult for him to accept that so you have to be subtle about it and work up. it gets him really blushy and if you can manage to get him talking, he’s stammering. he can’t hold eye contact for shit when you call him pretty and it’s very amusing to you to see such a quick and drastic shift in his disposition. things that have straight up put him out of commission include: calling him “my pretty boy,” or “sweet boy,” “you always take such good care of me,” “you’re so strong,” “you’re the love of my life.” “i’m proud of you” will literally put him on his knees.

[pulsingvoid]

i really dont feel qualified enough to speak out about anything im still too tired and scared and full of both warranted and misplaced guilt to properly function but i do need to express one thing. which is that we have got to find a way to talk about women and feminism and misogyny and men and the patriarchy again. we cannot go on pretending misogyny isnt as rampant as ever, more rampant than its been in a long time, and that it isnt just as much a danger as all the other fucking dangers hovering over us at any given minute. letting terfs hog feminist spaces is one of the worst things we did and im tired of blaming the terfs for it when thats just as much on us as it is on them. we are letting ourselves down and we are letting trans women down we are so segregated and so distractible we tiptoe around everything we have fucked our solidarity to hell im sick of biting my tongue on women's issues im sick of being nervous to voice my opinions to other women irl and im sick of having to check feminist blogs on here to see if theyre terfs before i interact im sick of people nitpicking each other's language because certain things sound like "terf dogwhistles" like yeah no shit they do because they weaponized them! theyre controlling the entire fucking narrative! at this point i'd rather see flawed feminism than none at all maybe im crazy but i am trying to have some fucking faith in other women and i know how i feel and how much i love my trans sisters and my trans friends and how safe i feel in trans spaces because im becoming a bigger and more gender nonconforming dyke with every breath i take and i dont care how it comes off to strangers online im gonna rebuild my community and im gonna talk more about being a woman and all that entails and what it means to me. and if any of this spoke to you in any way i am literally begging you to find a way to do the same

[tonicandjins]

learning languages | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.

날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold

The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon. 

It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking. 

Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area. 

Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark. 

They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels. 

It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you. 

Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.

Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven. 

You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him. 

“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”

“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”

“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.

“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”

You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree. 

“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him. 

Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark. 

But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake. 

“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”

It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think. 

You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English. 

“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”

So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.

“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”

“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.

Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought. 

Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.

“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea. 

“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”

“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”

“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”

Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city. 

Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.  When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.

The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning. 

The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep. 

You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone. 

It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends. 

약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise

When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.

Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.

By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.

It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.

Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.

Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.

Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.

Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.

It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.

Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.

“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.

“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.

“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”

“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”

He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”

You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”

Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”

“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”

This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”

“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”

You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”

Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.

Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.

“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”

You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.

“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”

Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”

“It is,” you confess.

Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.

Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.

“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”

He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”

Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.

“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”

한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?

Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.

The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.

Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”

He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.

Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”

Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.

“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.

The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”

You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.

“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”

He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”

Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”

You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.

You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.

“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”

You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”

He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”

“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”

You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.

You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”

Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.

“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”

“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.

He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”

You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.

“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”

“That’s mean!” you gasp.

“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.

“Donghyuck!”

“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”

You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”

“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.

Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”

The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.

저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic

“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.

It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.

There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.

Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.

“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”

The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.

“She loves you already!” Mark comments.

You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”

“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”

“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”

Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”

Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.

Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.

Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”

“No way,” Mark protests.

“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.

“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”

“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”

Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.

Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.

“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”

Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.

“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”

This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.

“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”

“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”

He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”

“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”

Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.

Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”

“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”

Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”

You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.

“What?” you ask.

Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.

먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.

Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.

Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.

“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”

You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.

“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”

You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.

Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.

It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.

And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.

“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”

“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”

Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”

You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.

“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”

Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.

“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”

“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”

It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.

“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”

“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.

Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”

“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.

Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.

You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.

You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.

It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.

The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”

삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle

Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.

Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.

SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.

“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.

You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”

“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“

Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.

“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.

“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”

“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”

Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.

The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.

“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.

“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”

The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.

Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.

Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.

The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.

“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”

The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.

“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”

“Love… triangles?” you repeat.

“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”

You gulp.

“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”

This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.

“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”

You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”

Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.

It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.

Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”

이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?

You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.

Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?

You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.

Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.

You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.

Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.

“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”

Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.

“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”

“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”

A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.

“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.

“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.

“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”

Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”

But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.

Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.

You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.

“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.

Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.

You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.

Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.

You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”

Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.

“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”

“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”

“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”

“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”

Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.

“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.

Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.

When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.

“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”

So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.

When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.

Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.

Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.

You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.

“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”

“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”

Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.

“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.

Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”

“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”

“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.

“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”

“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”

You laugh but urge him to continue.

“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”

“What does Mark have—”

“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”

Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.

“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”

You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”

일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?

It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”

“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”

“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”

As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”

You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”

“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”

Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”

“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”

The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”

“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.

Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”

That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.

“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”

You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”

You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”

“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.

Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.

“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”

Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”

계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons

When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.

From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.

The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.

The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.

But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.

In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.

Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.

“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.

“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.

Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”

Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.

Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.

It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.

The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).

Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.

“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”

Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”

Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”

“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”

Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”

Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”

Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”

“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.

Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.

“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”

“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”

“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.

Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”

“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.

“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”

You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”

It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.

With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”

Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?

Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.

 오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand

Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.

You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.

His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.

It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.

The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.

You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).

Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.

Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.

Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.

“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.

Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.

His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.

“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”

Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.

You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.

“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”

Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.

“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.

천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo)  - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home

Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.

You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.

Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.

Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.

Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.

Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.

Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.

They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.

You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.

“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.

“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”

“Please speak slowly.”

“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”

“I can’t understand you.”

“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”

“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”

Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”

“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”

“Huh?”

“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”

“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.

“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”

Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.

The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.

You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”

“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”

Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”

“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”

Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.

“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””

“Shit like?” Mark asks.

You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”

“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”

Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”

You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.

“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”

You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”

“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”

You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”

“Back home?”

You smile. “Yes. Back home.”

갈망 (galmang) - longing

It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.

You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.

The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.

The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.

The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.

Of course, she knows.

Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.

Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.

They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.

“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.

“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”

“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”

Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”

Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”

It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.

But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.

예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected

The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.

You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.

You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.

미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.

“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.

“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”

Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.

“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”

“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”

He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.

“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”

You keep your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”

“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”

“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”

Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.

“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”

“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.

“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.

“But now like how you are a part of me.”

Oh.

“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”

He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.

“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”

Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”

Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.

“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”

But he doesn’t have to.

“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”

Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”

It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.

The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.

Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.

You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.

And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.

Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.

Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:

Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.

It’s only the beginning, it seems.

The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.

It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.

[momoswifee]

Peaches and a Broken Car

Pairing: Mina x reader

Synopsis: Mina decides to take some time off and when she goes to her parents' house, her car suddenly breaks down leading her to meet Yn.

Warnings: The reader has abandonment issues and tbh I think that's it for now.

w/c: 5558

a/n: I've been working on this for a while now, I'm planning on making this a mini-series? I'm really excited to finally put this out and for you guys to read it! Again, I really appreciate criticism so that I can do better next time, so if you have any, please let me know :) Also big thanks to @cry4mina for their amazing brain that helped me figure out what to do with this story :)

Pt1- Pt2 - Pt3

Mina had always loved the art of performing. She found the idea of immersing herself so much in a character that she could be able to portray characters and tell their stories just by using her body language and facial expressions in a certain way fascinating. 

She loved the way she could tell stories of people for thousands of people to see, it was something she was very proud of. However, the fame that came with it was something that she wished was not part of this ordeal. Fame was something that many always wanted to achieve, the idea of being adored by many and of being an idol to others was for some their life dreams. However, Mina never wanted a loud and busy life, she had always preferred the quiet aspect of it. 

After finally finishing filming an adaptation of “All the Lovers in the Night”, which she considered to have been one of her most challenging works, she was on her very much-deserved holiday, which she planned to spend with her parents, who had recently moved to a quiet little town just an hour or so away from the city. 

“...turn left in 300 meters” 

Finally, Mina thought to herself, after hearing the GPS’s directions, showing how close she was to arriving at her parents. 

Suddenly, she hears a clicking sound before the car starts jolting.

What the hell?

Suddenly, the car comes to a halt, letting out a whooshing sound as a small cloud of smoke come out from its hood. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mutters as she gets out of the car after trying to park it as much to the right as possible. After a minute of silence, she tries to restart the car, in hopes it wakes up.

A glimmer of hope forms inside her as she hears the car slowly start before the familiar clicking starts again, making her turn it off, knowing she wouldn't go anywhere with that car soon.

Fuck

After the failed attempt at restarting the car, she decided to get out and see if she could call for car support so that she could get over this as quickly as possible. As soon as she’s out of the car, she's trying to call for support but soon notices that her battery is running out, making her dial the number as quickly as possible. 

“No no no no no” she mumbles as she watches her phone die. “You have got to be kidding me” she almost screams in exasperation. 

I cannot believe this is happening right when I decide to go on holiday, she thinks to herself sighing. 

After a while of sitting on the hood of her car, taking breaks from trying to restart her car long enough to connect her phone so that it could charge a little bit more to call for assistance, she sees a ball of white fur bark and run towards her. 

“Hi buddy!” she exclaims when the dog adorably walks up to her, pushing his head closer to her tight as if to ask for pets, making her laugh and crouch down giving him her full attention, slightly compensating for all that had happened until that moment. 

“Otis!” Mina hears from the direction the dog had come, assuming the voice as being the owner’s. “You can’t just run off like that.” says the voice, slightly off-breath as it approaches them. 

“It’s fine really!” Mina says, trying to sound reassuring, “He seems like a good boy…” she trails off as she looks up, meeting your gaze. As she looks at you, she feels her shoulders instantly drop, as if every ounce of stress accumulating in her throughout the day had vanished.  

“I’m sorry, he really just ran off as soon as he saw the car here.Is that your car?” you ask her as you leave Otis in her grasp to check it out.

“Uh yeah, I guess it had some engine problems? It never had any problems before, I was not expecting it at all” she answers, still upset at her car breaking down so near her parent's place. 

“If I could, I would totally help you out, but I’m not that good with my hands when it comes to cars,” You tell her sheepishly, “I do have the contact of a mechanic in town who could probably figure this out with no trouble” you add for Mina’s great relief. 

“Really? And do you think they could come today?” she asks with a hopeful tone. 

“Hold on, I’ll give them a call,” You tell her as you take out your phone to quickly call the mechanic. After the short call, you walk back to deliver the news. “It shouldn’t be long before they get here, they said they would come in maybe 20 minutes since it’s not that far.” You explain, making Mina feel like a big weight had been lifted off her shoulders. 

“I don’t even know how to thank you…” Mina says, smiling softly at you, making you laugh. 

“It’s fine, Your car will be in good hands too, don’t worry,” You say, shrugging. “You know…I really wouldn’t feel good with myself leaving you here alone though… would you like to come to the farm while we wait? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to!” you say, quickly adding the last bit, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. 

“I’d really appreciate it.” Mina says, smiling at you relieved, knowing that she’s going home soon.  

As you both walk to your house, you attempt to make small talk to avoid the awkward tension, learning that Mina is going to be spending her holiday time with her parents, in search of peace and quiet. 

After arriving at your place, Mina notices that you live on something alike to a farm, but a little smaller. As you wait by the porch, playing with your dog, Mina has the opportunity to check your little farm out, taking notice of the various fruit trees you had. 

She learns that you had once been a Hockey player in the city but due to a knee injury, you had retired and decided to come back to your hometown to help your parents with their business, eventually leaving it to you. 

After a while, the mechanic finally shows up at your house, with the car already towed, honking to call for your attention, making you smile instantly. 

“Hey pretty!” You say, getting up quickly to greet the person driving the car. Said person getting out quickly as well in time to greet you properly with a hug. “Mina, this is my friend Jeongyeon, she will be taking your car to the shop and give you a ride to your parents since it’s probably on the way.” You explain, detaching yourself from your friend, who gives Mina a small wave to greet her. 

“Well, I hope you have a good rest.” You say, guiding her to the car with Otis on your tail trying to get more pets from his new friend. 

“I’m sure I will.” She says, leaning down to pet Otis for the last time before she leaves.“Thank you for letting me stay here while I waited for the tow.” 

“Of course, it was really nice having you here.” You say, smiling shyly at Mina. 

Honk 

“Hey, love birds! It’s getting dark, we should really get going, so I can drop Mina off and close the shop in time!” Jeongyeon calls from the truck, making you both blush at her nickname. 

As she gets in the truck, she sees you waving goodbye and then remembers she had forgotten to ask you for your number. Before she can get out to ask, the truck is already getting out of your house. 

After a short-ish and quiet drive, she’s finally home. When she opens the door, her parents come rushing to hug her, worried because of the calls that went unanswered by her. After letting them know what had happened, she just went straight to bed, too tired to keep them company for much longer. 

As days go by, Mina has finally begun to feel more and more at ease, more in contact with herself. One day, as she’s preparing lunch, she hears someone knock at the door. 

“Mina, please get the door!” she hears her mom call from outside. 

When she opens the door, she sees a surprising face on the other side. There you stand, carrying a crate with a mix of fruits and vegetables, wearing your hat backward, sporting a small smile on your face. 

“Hi”

“Hi”

“Please come in” Mina hurriedly says, not wanting you to carry such a heavy-looking crate for too long. 

“I didn’t know you were the Myoui’s daughter.” you say as you enter the house and put the crate by the table. 

“Yeah…” she answers, still a bit surprised to see you there 

“I come here once a week to deliver fruit to them since the crate is usually a bit too heavy for your mom to carry” you explain, not wanting to seem like you just like to pop up to people's houses. 

“Thank you for that,” she says, touched by your consideration. “She told me that this week we’d be getting the fruit delivered, but I guess I forgot what day it was coming.”

After an awkward silence from both parts, you finally ask her how her time there has been, if she had her car fixed.  “Oh yeah, thank you! They already have the car ready to get picked up. I’m going this afternoon.” she answers, grateful for the break from the awkwardness. 

You only nod at that and give her a small smile, and you two get awkward again and stay silent for a bit, not knowing what to say. 

“Yn honey hi! Thank you so much for bringing the produce!” The older woman says, going to hug you. 

“Of course, I’m always happy to help!” You tell her with one of the brightest smiles Mina had ever seen, making her instinctively smile as well. 

After exchanging pleasantries, you decide to go back to work. As you’re almost out the door, Mina follows you, not wanting to let you go without asking you for your number.

“Yn! Wait up!” Mina says, following as you’re almost inside your truck. 

“Yeah?” You say, peaking your head out of the car, almost hitting it as you rushed to see what it was that Mina wanted. 

“I uh, I wanted to know if I could get your number?” Mina asks, suddenly shy. 

“Yes! I mean, yeah, sure, of course.” You say, trying to act nonchalant as you quickly hand her your phone.

“Let’s keep in touch, yeah?” Mina says as she hands you the phone, giving you a big gummy smile, making your insides melt. You’re only able to give her a nod, unable to answer her verbally. 

❂

“Did you just giggle?” JIhyo says, barking out a laugh as she sees you staring at your phone after receiving a message from Mina. 

“What are you talking about?” you ask, rolling your eyes. “Did a puck hit you too hard on the head?” you joke, trying to avoid talking about your shameful giggle at a text from a girl you had just met. 

“Hardy har har” she says, rounding the corner and following you as you move through the furniture looking for the renovated table Jihyo had ordered. “You can’t just lie to me, I know you like the palm of my hand! Jeongyeon back me up??” Jihyo says, turning to her friend for support. 

“Hm? Sorry, I was not paying attention at all. Can we speed this along, though? I have a job.” The older one says, putting her phone away as she moves to meet the other girls in the middle of the furniture maze. 

“Who were you texting though” Jihyo insists as she picks up the end of the table to carry it out.

“Oooh was it the girl I picked up from your place?” Jeongyeon joins in, teasingly wiggling her eyebrows at you. 

“A girl?” JIhyo says, almost dropping the table. “Why am I the last one to know about this?”

“There is nothing to know about.” You tell them as you slowly put the table down, ready to put it on Jihyo’s car, ready for her to stop pestering you. “She had trouble with her car a while ago, so she stayed at my place while she waited for Jeongie to pick her up to take the car to the shop. Since she’s staying here for a while, we decided to keep in touch-” you try saying, but are cut off by teasing “ooohs” and whistles from both girls. “Just as friends!” you quickly add, rolling your eyes. 

“You know it would do you some good to get out of the house,” Jeongyeon says, bringing you closer when she sees you trying to get away from their teasing by going back to the shop. 

“I do get out.” You say almost indignantly, making both of them snicker. 

“You getting out of the house to go to work or to go to the farmers market does not count. You don’t even visit some of us in the city as frequently.” Jihyo says, already getting inside the car. “You don’t giggle at texts, you’re a loser, but I’ve never seen you like this. If this girl does that to you, you should give it a try, even if you’ve only known her for a short while. Get to know her.”

You only mumble in agreement, not wanting to commit to something yet. After Jihyo leaves, you try sneaking off into the store, knowing Jeongyeon will still try to talk about what had just happened. 

“Nope, come here.” She says when she sees you slowly backing away, pulling you by the hand to sit on the bench outside your store. “I know this is scary, you don’t like getting close to new people-”

“I do like it-” you start 

“Let me finish,” she says, cutting you off. “It’s good for you. We get together often, but since you came back you’ve been pulling out of social interactions. Mina seems like a sweet girl.” She continues, holding your hand gently. “I’m not saying you have to make a move, you’ve only known the girl for what? Two weeks?” she asks, getting an inconclusive hum from you. “Just get to know her, she told me she’s staying here for vacation when I drove her to her parents. You can make a new friend.” she says, ending her little encouragement speech. 

“You sound like my mom.” You grumble. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I love your mom.” She says, patting your head as she gets up. “I'll call you later, ok?” She says, already walking away. 

It’s not that you didn’t want to get to know Mina better, you’d like nothing more. Even after days of texting back and forth, sharing jokes and facts about you, you were still hesitant about letting someone else in. 

You sighed and looked at your phone, still open on the messages app with Mina’s text waiting for your response. 

Do you want to meet tomorrow? I can’t wait to see you again :) 

You smile down at it before finally answering. 

I’d love to. I can’t wait to see you too :)

❂

“This one almost fell off!” Mina says excitedly as she puts the peach inside her basket. 

“Yeah, they’re good to go right now, I’ll probably take them to the market this weekend.” You say, chuckling at her enthusiasm. “You should be careful though, if you pick them out with too much force, some parts that will get spoiled more easily.” 

After your friend's visit, you decided to invite Mina to your house to create a more intimate environment so that you could get to know her better without any stress from people being around. 

"Oh, look at this one! It’s you!" she says laughing, holding one out for you to see. 

You move closer to her, trying to see what she means as she points at the fruit. 

"You know, cuz you're a peach." she says, maybe in an unusual attempt at flirting. After a moment of silence, she turns away from you and goes to another tree to get away from what had just happened. You only stare at her with a dumb smile on your face, completely infatuated by her. 

“Are you flirting with me?” You ask, moving closer with a cheeky smile on your face. 

“Me flirt- flirting? Why would I- No of course not” Mina says, stumbling over her words as she moves further away. 

“Why did you call me a peach, then?” You ask chuckling, finally able to be close to her again. 

“Well because you look like one.” She says shrugging, looking away, not wanting to make eye contact. 

“Yeah, cuz we share oh so many similarities.” You say, tilting your head, trying to look at her. 

“Yeah, both round and red.” she says, shrugging, making you bark out a laugh. 

“You’re saying I’m round and red?” 

“You’re insufferable” she huffs and turning away again, only making you laugh more. 

“You can’t say I’m insufferable, we’ve only known each other for two weeks or so” You exclaim, still laughing. 

“Would it be bad if I was?” Mina finally stops, turning to you, and looking into your eyes. As you look at her, you find yourself unable to form any words, this seeming to be becoming a recurring occurrence now.  

You only shake your head no and move closer to her. You see her tense up as if she had stopped breathing, and unconsciously do the same. As you get closer to her, you’re now able to check ever single detail on her face, every single line, every single mole. 

“It would not be bad at all” You say, almost whispering with your voice shaking, as you adjust the straw hat on her head as it was slowly falling forward. 

“Yn!” you two suddenly hear, making you both hastily make some distance between each other. 

“Mom?” You call out, having recognized the voice, moving towards the sound, taking Mina’s hand in yours to follow you not noticing her almost freezing up at the contact. 

“Hi baby” she enthusiastically says, with open arms ready to engulf you in her arms. She, however, stops mid-way when she sees you holding hands with an unknown girl. “Who is this?” she asks, with a mischievous smile forming on her face. 

As soon as you realize what she’s talking about, you feel your face heat up, realizing that you were holding hands with Mina. Quickly, you let go of her hand, not wanting to make her feel comfortable, too embarrassed to notice the slight look of disappointment that had crossed her face as you did so. “This is Mina, she’s the Myoui’s daughter.” You explain, weekly gesturing to the girl beside you. 

“Well, it’s really nice to meet you!” your mom says, going to hug Mina, surprising her. 

“She’s always like this” you mouth to her when she looks at you for help. 

“Don’t run from me!” You hear as you see Otis speed away from your father, who’s chasing him. 

“Dad, stop pestering Otis.” You say, sighing, going in the direction your dog had run. 

“It’s not pestering, he loves it!” The older man says, before spotting Mina. “And who is this?” he says with a curious gaze and a little smile playing on his lips.

“This is the Myoui’s kid.” Your mom says, introducing her, and instead of a warm hug, he instead offers a warm smile, one too similar to yours. After a bit of short talk, and your parents wanting to start sharing stories about how you were as a child, you volunteered to walk Mina home. 

“They seem fun” Mina says as she walks by your side. 

“They’re pests.” You say fondly, not being able to contain your smile. 

“I’m glad we could do this today…” Mina says, sneaking glances at you, catching you doing the same from time to time. 

“It was really fun, yeah.” You say with a smile. Out of nowhere, a gust of wind hits you both and sends Mina’s hat into the field. “I’ll pick it up don’t worry.” You assure her, trying to chase it. 

“You don’t have to!” She calls after you, going after you. 

“I want to, stay there, I’ll be back in a minute.” 

After no longer than 5 minutes, she hears a thud and a groan, making her look your way, only to see you holding her hat looking quite disheveled, with furrowed eyebrows grumbling. 

“What happened?” she asks worried, seeing small tears on your pants.  

“I didn’t see the roots” You mumble, dusting yourself off with your free hand, before offering her a beaming smile. “I got your hat though! Here, let me put it on,” you say, dusting it off of any dust it might have before adjusting it on Mina’s hair again. “There.” You say, smiling, finding yourself in the same position you both had been in before your parents had come home. 

“Thanks” Mina mumbles, looking away, not attempting to make eye contact. 

As you both continued your walk, you could feel your fingers brush hers, making your face erupt in flames. You decided to look at her, sneakily and found yourself breath taken. It wasn’t just her shy smile that had your knees trembling, but also the light coming between the trees and how they hit her skin, how her eyes gained a new shine as she watched the birds chirping above you. You would never admit this out loud, at least not to her, but even though you had only known her for such a short period of time, you were absolutely smitten. 

“We should do this again,” Mina says as she steps on her parent’s porch. “I had fun.”

“Yeah.” You manage to get out, fiddling your fingers. “I’ll text you?” you ask, receiving a nod. “Yeah, I’d like that.” she says, getting closer to you. Before you can process it, Mina kissed your cheek and was already inside the house. 

❂

“We've actually been hanging out a lot, even if she's working too. Last Tuesday she took me to the lake, we spent the whole day there. But now she won't even answer my texts” Mina sighs, not knowing what to do.

“Well you've already tried talking to her, I'm honestly not sure what else you can do.” Sana, her friend, says through the phone. 

“Well, yes, but I actually thought things were going well.” The girl continues, pacing around. 

She knew that she couldn’t expect anything romantic out of this relationship, at least not at that moment, but she did think that your relationship was progressing in that direction, and she was happy about it, there didn’t seem to be any problems until you suddenly stopped answering her texts and only came by her parents place when she wasn’t there. 

“I’m not sure what to tell you, honey, I wish I could offer you more words of comfort, but it seems like this all came out of the blue so…” The older girl says. 

After a long talk, Mina decides to come down, only to see a very familiar crate full of veggies and fruit sitting at the table. She realizes then that Yn had come over to deliver the produce as usual, managing to avoid her again. 

“Mina hi! What can I do for you?” Jeongyeon says as she gets out from under the car she had been fixing, oil stains all over her. “Is your car giving you trouble?”

“Not the car, no.” Mina answers with a dry chuckle, looking around.

“What happened?” Jeongyeon asks, cleaning her hands, and guiding Mina to her office so that they could talk more freely. 

“I just…” she started, frustration settling in. “Is Yn alright? Has anything happened? Was it something I did?” Mina ends up asking, rapidly. 

“Hey no what?” Jeongyeon says, holding her arms, trying to calm her down. “It’s not you, ok? You did nothing wrong.” She says, trying to reassure her. “Yn has a complicated relationship with people. Has she told you about her retirement?” She asks getting up, getting a cup of water, and giving it to Mina, but only getting a negative nod as a response to her question. 

“I’m not sure whether it’s my place to tell you about all the details, that’s something Yn should tell you if she thinks she wants to. She had it pretty rough with her team after her injury, it hit her pretty hard.” Jeongyeon says, sighing after remembering how everything had impacted her friend. “After her injury, some people on the team started blaming her, people that were supposed to have her back, people that Yn trusted a lot. After that, she got too much in her head and started self-isolating. Those people leaving her, blaming her, made her start to think that others would do that too.” She ends, frustration lacing itself into her tone. 

“I didn’t know…” Mina says, almost in a whisper. “That must have been tough.” 

“It was, she has been trying to get out more and get better, but you know how these things are…” Jeongyeon says, searching for understanding in Mina’s eyes. “I know it doesn’t excuse her keeping you in the dark, but I hope it at least explains it.” 

“It does, but I still want to try and talk to her.” Mina says, getting up, ready to see if you were at your shop. 

“Yeah, but if you want to try today, you won’t have any luck. She went to the city, she’s hanging out with a friend.” Jeongyeon says, guiding Mina out, almost apologetic. 

“I’ll see if I can catch her at the market then.” Mina decides, gaining a nod from Yn’s friend. 

As Mina walks home with this new information she starts to understand why you had done what you did, however, she can’t help that she felt hurt by those actions. She decided that she had to confront you, to ease her mind and also in turn ease yours.

A couple of days later, her mom had decided to go to the market so Mina took that opportunity to go see you. When they arrive, they see you at your stand with your dad and waste no time to go over there. 

“...yes, Yn only started producing this type of tomato this year, but I really like them, especially in salads, they really bring out the taste…” says your father, engrossed in his tomato talk with a possible customer. “Mina! Hi!” He suddenly exclaims as he notices her presence. “I haven’t seen you in a while, have you been enjoying your time off?” He asks, after making sure the other customer did leave with the tomatoes he was so enthusiastic about. 

“It’s been great yeah!” Mina answers him with a tight smile, more focused on Yn and how she’s suddenly checking every single peach on the stand for defects. 

“she’s really been able to relax more, she works too hard”

“Do you come here often?” comes out of Mina’s mouth before she can stop herself, feeling silly since she is literally at her stand. There is a small victory since a small smile shapes itself on your lips unintentionally. 

“Yeah…” you say, not wanting to prolong this conversation, too scared of where this might go. 

“How have you been?” Mina tries again, not feeling deterred. 

“Eh I’ve been alright.” You say, offering her a small smile, but looking away almost instantly. 

“Are you not going to ask how I’ve been?” Mina says, trying to meet your eyes, finding them guilt-ridden. “Well, I haven’t been that great. My friend, or at least someone I thought was my friend, stopped talking to me and has been avoiding me. I’m not sure if she’s doing it because of anything I did, but she won’t even answer my texts so I can’t really know.” Mina finally lets out, unthinkingly letting out her frustrations on the situation as well. 

“No! No. I- It was not you, it was all me. I get too inside my head and end up pushing people away. This is no excuse, especially since I’m not even explaining it well, but I am still sorry Mina.” You quickly say as you fiddle with your fingers. 

“You know, I wouldn’t have left.” She says, after a silent moment. “I texted a lot, I would think that that was an indicator right?” she says chuckling trying to lighten the mood, making you smile slightly relieved. “You do have to make it up to me…”

“I’ll do my very best,” you tell her, now smiling more openly. 

❂

As time progresses, you two end up making up, and you start visiting the city more because of Mina since she had returned to work. 

Knock Knock Knock

“Coming!” Mina yells from the kitchen, hurriedly going to the door, not knowing who could be at such a late hour. Once she opens the door, she is pleasantly surprised to see you there holding a bag of takeout with one of your big smiles on your face. 

“Hi” you say, already going inside, not wanting to stay out in the cold. “I brought take out from that place down the road.” You explain, already going to the kitchen with a familiarity Mina hadn’t noticed until now, but still a welcome one. As you both ate, Mina started realizing that the silly infatuation she had felt over the summer had evolved into a full-grown crush, and suddenly she didn’t know how to act. 

“Do you want to watch a movie after?” You ask her with a mouthful, which was honestly disgusting, but for Mina, who found herself realizing that she was unbelievably down bad for you, it was somewhat endearing. 

“You’re so gross.” She says, with no sentiment behind it,  a love-sick grin starting to spread on her face. “You choose, I’m cleaning up the dishes.” She says, getting up quickly not wanting you to see her smile like that. 

Once she returns to the living room, she finds you already sprawled comfortably on the couch with Spider-Man on the screen waiting for her to press play. Once you were both comfortably watching the movie play, you decided to explain to her little details that could help her better understand the plot and the reasons behind some behaviours of certain characters, and even though she had tried so hard to pay attention to those details, the only things she could focus on were how your eyes lit up, how you knew all about this fictional universe and how invested you were in it. 

“...and that’s why-What?” You ask, finally noticing her unnerving stare. 

“You’re such a nerd,” she says softly, her voice filled with adoration, making you flush under her gaze. “Tell me more about it.”

“Do you actually want to know?” You ask her, laughing, knowing she was probably not paying any attention to your side information. 

“I like listening to you talk.” She shrugs. “It’s cute. I might have to try and get a Marvel contract, maybe then you’ll talk about as me as passionately as you talk about Peter Parker.” She says, inching closer to you, with a teasing smile, and at that moment you thank everything divine for not being too close to her, or else she would’ve felt the heat emanating from you, from how flushed you were starting to get because of this banter of hers. 

“Do you think I’d make a good spider woman? Hm?” Mina says, feeling more confident after looking at your state, already so close, she could see your chest rising rapidly. “I’d let you try out the iconic upside-down kiss…” she finalizes, feeling a surge of confidence she normally didn’t feel, as she gently turned your face towards hers, getting closer and closer, already being able to feel your ragged breath mixing with hers. 

“Mina…” You breathlessly whisper, following her lead, your mouth opening slightly, not being able to stop your eyes from following her every move.

She only hums in response, tilting her head slightly to kiss you gently on the cheek, lips so soft you could’ve missed them. Instead of stopping there, she starts to slowly trail little kisses in your mouth’s direction. As she’s almost there, her eyes find yours as if asking for permission. You don’t even try and answer verbally, knowing full well you would not be able to do so, instead, you just let your hand go to her nape and gently bring her closer to you, letting your lips finally meet in a soft kiss. As you try to deepen the kiss, you feel her smile against your lips, making it impossible to do so. 

“What are you smiling about?” You ask, still impossibly closer, lips almost touching, not even wanting to think about putting some distance in between both of you. 

“Nothing” she simply says, pulling you in for another kiss, sharing the same thought of not wanting to be apart from you a minute longer. 

[ellecdc]

ELLE !! OMGGGG i read a fanfic based on the movie flipped and i immediately thought of you and how you would eat this trope up or more specifically a childhood best friends to lovers !!

like one day either one or all of the marauders are spending the day with reader then all of a sudden the boys’ hearts start beating a little faster at reader’s laughter or they’re mesmerized by their little subtle quirks and now they’re like “oh fuck… i think i LOVE them love them”

this is not necessarily a request but if you decide to write something like this then YIPPIEEE FLUFF but if not then its just a cute little scenario to think about !!

this was such a sweet idea 🥹 thank you so much for your request 🫶

Sirius Black x gn!reader who he's - oh shit - in love with

Life hadn’t been particularly easy for Sirius.

He was born into a family not out of love but out of obligation.

In fact, he hadn’t ever really known love outside of whatever affection he held for his baby brother until he met his friends. 

He’d been beaten, starved, ignored, and tortured into compliance all before the age of 11; and it only continued tenfold upon his return from school after having been sorted into the wrong house. 

In fact, a lot about Sirius was wrong.

He had the wrong opinions, the wrong hair, the wrong style, the wrong language, the wrong grades, the wrong loyalty.

Sirius was wrong.

At least that’s what his family would have said.

However, Sirius eventually learned that it wasn’t him who had been wrong all this time; it was them.

And whilst removing them from him was very difficult - seeing as they were the ones who bred and raised him - he felt he was doing a pretty decent job of it.

Unfortunately, that meant leaving his baby brother Regulus, and you, behind. 

From as far back as Sirius could remember, everything was always chosen for him; his friends, his interests, his hobbies, the volume of his voice, the clothes he wore, the way he presented himself etcetera, etcetera. 

And though that was technically still true of his dedication to his brother and his companionship with you; the two of you were the only good things to have ever come from his life as a Black. 

His friendship with you was a cherished one.

Perhaps one of the only people who truly got it; who knew what Sirius went through. 

You were the silver lining at every grey and dreary Pureblood Gala and Sacred 28 dinner party.

You were his biggest advocate and protector when it came to his older cousins and the other older Purebloods. 

And you were the only reason Sirius could bring himself to flee that horrid night in the summer before sixth year; he could only leave knowing that Regulus would at least still have you.

But it hurt. 

It hurt knowing he had left you and Regulus to fend for yourselves.

He felt like a coward; like he betrayed the two people who he cared for most.

And he was still so scared; even now, albeit for different reasons.

He was scared because he was certain that when he returned to Hogwarts that September, you and Regulus would hate him.

But apparently, his fears were wrong too.

Because two weeks before the end of summer; two weeks before you would all be piling onto the Hogwarts Express to return to Scotland, you and Regulus showed up to Potter Manor wearing matching timid grins, yet seemingly no worse for wear. 

Somehow, you had gotten yourself and Reggie out of the terror that was your familial homes, and were staying with friends up in Ottery St.Catchpole. 

Sirius never really imagined getting to have his cake at all, let alone getting to have his cake and eating it too. 

Yet, here he sat on a warm summer evening at Potter Manor with James, Remus, Peter, Reggie, and you around a crackling bonfire among the sounds of peeping frogs and chirping crickets as you told some grandiose story about you and Regulus trekking through a vast field where Regulus stumbled in a hidden hole in the ground and cursed for five minutes straight in both English and French before the two of you laughed so hard that you cried. 

Your face was flushed and you were slightly breathless as you narrated your tale; arms flying wildly as you drew a rather descriptive picture of both your surroundings and your actions. Every so often you would reach over to shake Regulus’ shoulder as he hid his face behind his hands, laughing along with you and daring to interrupt if he felt you were overexaggerating some details or not painting him in a flattering enough light. 

What was likely a rather stressful and arduous journey across the Southern half of the country seemed to be nothing but a grand adventure as you retold your experience.

Sirius liked that about you; everything was an adventure with you. You never let Regulus or Sirius feel too poorly for themselves for too long, telling them it was going to be great for their character development.

“I think I’m rather well developed already, sweetheart.” He’d grumbled at you once. You laughed like he had something truly funny. 

And this was no different. From looking at Regulus, Sirius would never guess he’d just absconded from his volatile, abusive, and downright scary family; Regulus rather looked like he was retelling the happenings of a juvenile prank-filled slumber party (which Sirius would know a thing or two about). 

And he looked good. Not like Sirius looked when he first arrived at the Manor; bloodied, bruised, starved, and soaked to the bone. Regulus was healthy, vibrant, and bright. Hopeful. 

That’s the effect you had on people; you filled them with hope. Hope that it would be okay, hope that it would be better, hope that one day you might actually deserve the things you so desperately craved.

You had certainly done that for Sirius.

And looking at how good Regulus appeared, he couldn’t deny the same of you.

You were bright, animated, overflowing with a crackling energy and excitement that might even rival James’.

Sirius realised then that you were everything Sirius ever hoped to be.

Bold, assured, daring, caring, vivacious, kind, and so full of love.

And it seemed to him that the way the firelight was currently reflecting off of your face, as if the fire was somehow brighter from just simply being within your proximity, that you were far more beautiful than Sirius remembered you.

He hadn’t realised he’d been remembering you.

He had missed you; quite terribly, at that.

He missed your reassuring words, he missed your soft gazes, he missed your gentle hugs, and he missed the way that just knowing you were within his vicinity eased a ball of tension he hadn’t even realised resided deep within him. 

And he missed getting to see you; like this most of all.

Lovely, happy, carefree, and beautiful.

He wondered how he’d gone so long without it.

Was a little over a month considered long? He supposed it didn’t much matter, seeing as it certainly felt that way.

Too long.

Sirius never wanted to go that long without you again. You were too important to him, too precious, too sacred, too-

Oh.

Oh. 

Oh.

Sirius Black was bloody in love. With you.

Sirius Black was in love with you.

What likely should have sent Sirius spiralling (and certainly would have a little over a month ago) did nothing but cause him to smile softly as you let out a rather boisterous laugh that sounded like a symphony to Sirius’ ears.

And so, it should be commemorated for future generations to come:

Here sat Sirius Black… having his cake and eating it too.

[forever-rogue]

can I request a Joel Miller x reader fic where she's in love with him but is convinced he would never have feelings for her too as she's younger than him and shy and quiet but maybe all gets revealed (however you want to do that) 👉👈 super fluffy but put some angst in there too if you wish 🥰

AN | Okay, but I love this so much ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

People always seemed to call you shy. 

And you were you supposed, in your own way. It had a lot of perks when you really thought about it, and one of the main benefits happened to be that people often seemed to leave you to your own devices. 

You liked that you had the ability to watch and observe people without question. There was a lot that could be learned when people thought they weren’t being watched. 

And one of your favorite people to study happened to be Joel Miller. 

He was a quiet man and often kept to himself more than anything, but there was still a lot to be gleaned from him. He was resourceful and smart, kind and friendly but not in an overbearing way, and generally…the object of your affections. Not that you would ever admit that to anyone else. You’d never said those words out all loud - and never would. No, that was a secret you would take to the grave. 

You were he probably already knew - you felt like a pathetic, rambling fool around him. He managed to erase every sensible thought in your head and the ability to form any coherent sentences. Instead you fumbled over your words, feeling warm and anxious…so you usually tried to avoid him as much as you. Sometimes it worked, but other times it seemed like he managed to find you or be in the same spot as you at every conceivable moment. 

It sucked. You were sure that one day you’d accidentally spill the beans or somehow give away that fact you were desperately in love with him. As long as you managed to keep your guard up, you were sure that it would all be fine. All you had to do was avoid him for the rest of your life. 

How hard could that be?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey,” that familiar gruff cut through your internal monologue as you gasped in surprise and almost dropped at the stuff in your arms. You turned around to him Joel watched you with a bemused expression on his face, “you alright? Didn’t mean to scare you, kid.”

Kid. You hated when he called you that. It made you feel like you were nothing in his eyes. Just a mere inconvenience. A kid that happened to be in his way.

“‘s alright,” you mumbled, righting the basket in your arms as you turned back to the vegetables and fruits you were tending to, “didn’t hear you is all.”

“Didn’t hear me,” he chuckled, the sound warm and familiar as it made the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy, “I don’t think I was being quiet in the slightest. Must have been awfully focused on whatever is going on in that pretty little head.”

You froze, eyes widening at his words, but continued to pick the fresh vegetables. You were so thankful that your back was to him as you tried to shrug him off. Otherwise he might have sensed just how flushed your face was and the lovesick expression on your face. 

You. You, you, you. 

"Nothing," you lied through gritted teeth, attempting in vain to slow down the beating of your heart and higher octave of your voice, "just thinking about what new things to plant once the season changes."

"And what did you decide?" Oh yeah. He was totally calling your bluff. 

"About what?"

"The vegetables?" 

"Oh…umm…cucumbers?"

"That's a summer vegetable," you cringed as he made a small sound of amusement. Did the man really have to know everything? You remained silent but could hear him shift, "last time I checked its almost winter."

"Well," you make quick work of gathering the rest of your veggies and placing them gently into the basket, "I guess I'll figure it out later."

You stood up and quickly turned on your heel to leave, rushing to get away and put this whole situation behind. You felt his fingers wrap around your wrist and gently hold you back. When you met his eyes, you noticed the little smile on his face, "everything alright?"

"Peachy," you lied as you gently pulled out of his grasp, "see you around, Joel."

"See you, Kid."

You hoped that maybe you'd never see him again and therefore avoid ever making a fool outside of yourself. 

Unlikely.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“And just where do you think you’re going?” you almost jumped in surprise, a small sound of surprise escaping your lips before he clamped his hand over your mouth. He put a finger to his lips and shook his head. You relaxed slightly when you saw it was him. When he realized that you weren’t going to freak out he dropped his hand from your mouth.

“Joel!” you hissed at him, looking around to make sure no one had followed either of you, “what are you doing here?”

“The better question is what are you doing here?” he crossed his arms over his broad chest as he raised an eyebrow at you. You put an innocent smile on your face and shrugged, knowing you weren’t fooling him in the slightest. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” oh. He was loving this way too much already.

“Telling? Wait - no, telling you,” you huffed, annoyed with yourself for how nervous you suddenly felt, “I’m just…here.”

“Here,” he repeated as you nodded, “it looks like you were trying to sneak out of the safety of the QZ.”

“Ummm…” realistically there was no other thing you could have been doing in that particular location. You were both acutely aware of the truth of the situation, “I’m just hanging out.”

“Come on, Kid,” he reached up and brushed a few rogue strands of hair behind your ear, “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know you like to sneak out.”

“I don’t-”

“I don’t care that you do,” he dropped his voice to a whisper as you slowly swallowed thickly, “I care about the fact that it’s not safe.”

“You do it!”

“I can handle myself,” he insisted, putting his finger under your chin in order to turn your face up to his, “not that I don’t think you can. It’s different.”

“I don’t usually get into trouble,” you shrugged, “I just like getting out sometimes. It almost makes things feel normal sometimes.”

He regarded you for a few moments, inhaling deeply before exhaling slowly. Your heart skipped a few beats as you wondered if he would yell at you or get you in some sort of trouble, “let’s go.”

“I’m - wait. What?” your eyes widened in surprise when he definitely said the opposite of what you had expected, “go home?”

“Let’s go out,” he reached for your hand and gently took it in his before he started to tug you along towards the way out. You were rooted in place, staring at him incredulously. He laughed, the soft sound made butterflies explode in your tummy, “what?”

“You mean it?” you whispered as the smile on his face grew, “Joel?”

“Let’s go out in the world and get away for a little bit,” he insisted softly. A small part of you was convinced that this was all fake and that he was going to get you in trouble. But the larger part of you knew that Joel would never do just a thing. And the tender look in his eyes solidified that for you, “what do you say?”

“Yes,” you agreed with a shy smile and fervent nod, “let’s go.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You should tell him, you know,” Lizzy nudged your side with your elbow and despite the serious look you were attempting to keep on your face, you giggled lightly. You ignored her comment as you turned back your attention towards the sky, as you studied the big, fat fluffy clouds. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed, trying to tune out the way she looked at you with a coquettish little smirk, “busy Lizzy, mind your own business!”

“You’re my best friend,” she reminded you, causing you to grumble at her, but it was all laced with affection, “I’m a part of your life and I’m just trying to get you in the right direction.”

“There is no right or wrong direction,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands, “there’s nothing there, Lizzy. I’m just a dumb kid with a big, fat crush and that’s all it’ll ever be. Can we drop it?”

“You’re so blind! It’s so obvious that he feels the same,” you loved Lizzy, and her tenacity was one of her amazing qualities. But right now it just felt so…overwhelming. You blinked back the tears that had threatened to well up and shook your head, “sweetheart-”

“Lizzy,” you put your hand on her arm and gave it a squeeze, “Joel doesn’t like me like that. I’m just a kid to him and that’s all I’ll ever be, and that’s okay. I’ll get over it…one day.”

“You’re so blind!” she was laughing, and despite the sound being so lovely and soft, your heart constricted in your chest. Before she could open her mouth to say anything else, you heard a loud throat clear from behind you. The two of you sat up in surprise, turning your attention towards the door to the roof. 

Fuck. Of course. Of course Joel Miller had to choose the perfect time to make an appearance. Lizzy had a huge grin on her face as she jumped up from the blanket you’d been lying on you. You looked at her in desperation as she practically skipped over to Joel and past him, smiling sweetly at the older man. 

In your anxious state you held up your hand in a meek little wave. Joel chuckled softly before making his way over to you. Without waiting for an invite, he sat down next to you, his thigh pressed against yours. 

“You heard all of that, didn’t you?” your entire body was warm and you almost wished that something would have popped up to create a distraction. Not like fully on clicker distraction, but something. You keep your gaze trained anywhere but him as embarrassment washed over you. 

“I did,” he admitted as you groaned internally. You could practically feel his pretty brown eyes focused on, but you weren’t ready to die of humiliation just yet. 

“Of course,” you nodded in annoyance, at yourself more than anything. You groaned before letting out a small huff. You finally managed to turn your face towards him and to your surprise, he didn’t look mad or angry, “I’m umm…sorry. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” it was a genuine question that caused you to shrug noncommittally, “the fact that I found out or for the feelings themself?”

“Both, I guess,” maybe the ground could open up and swallow you whole. That might be a nice change of pace, “m-mostly the fact that you found out.”

“So you’re not sorry for the feelings?”

“Can’t really help your feelings, can you?”

“No,” he agreed, shooting a curious little look, “I guess you can’t.”

“I hope this doesn’t make things awkward,” you whispered, “I try to stay away from you, but I swear you always seem to pop up out of nowhere. It always feels like the universe is laughing at me.”

“Almost like it wasn’t a coincidence at all…”

“I guess you’re….wait,” you turned your attention to him, allowing yourself to look at the man in question, “not a coincidence? What do you mean?”

“You’re a smart girl,” he praised and oh. If you didn’t enjoy being praised before, you sure did now, “you can put two and two together.”

“I….Joel-”

“Lizzy wasn’t as far off as you think she was,” he stated it so simply like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Your mouth dropped open as you stared at him, waiting for him to drop the just kidding bomb. He put his finger under your chin and gently closed your mouth, “is it really that hard to believe?”

“N-no,” you admitted softly, “I guess not. Just…are you sure? Me? Why…I don’t get it. Why me?”

“Don’t do that,” he insisted firmly, “the self doubt - there’s no reason for it.”

“I’m just…me.”

“Exactly,” he answered, leaving no room for any sort of back-talk, “you’re not just some kid or just a nobody. Not to me.”

“But I…I-”

He rested his hand on your neck, his thumb gently brushing along your soft skin, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

“Oh. Oh,” your eyes widened for a moment before you felt the soft press of his lips against yours. It wasn’t much of a kiss, more of a soft brushing of lips, both of you testing the waters. When he pulled back, you found him watching you with a soft expression on his face, “that was…you kissed me.”

“I did,” he echoed his words from earlier, “and I’d like to do it again if you’re okay with it.”

“Yes,” you smiled shyly at him, “I’d like that a lot.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” and he was kissing you again, like the two of you had been doing this for a long time, like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

Maybe you weren’t just some dumb kid after all.

[kadwrites]

entanglement | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; your fate is now sealed

warnings ; arranged marriage trope, slow burn? , typos (english isn't my first language) , tommy being the babygirl that he is.

a/n ; i have beef with this secretary idk why. thank you guys for the support! id love to know what you guys think of this part<333

-

you look out the window as he drives, trying to ignore the awkwardness between you two. your heart is almost beating out of your chest.

he glances at you as he drives, "who were the friends ya had over?"

you turn to look at him "huh?", it seems like no matter how often you talk to him, his voice still makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up

"the friends, the company ya had over this mornin' , who were they?" he repeats, a little slower this time

"oh my friends madeline and fiona, why?"

"do they know about this?" he glances at you again

"of course they do" you look at him even when he looks away, your mind starts to wander "are you... ashamed ?" you try not to sound too offended.

his brows pinch together in confusion, and you see it from his side profile "what?"

"of this, of me." you're still staring at him "is that why you don't want people to know about this? 'cause you're ashamed?"

"why would i be ashamed ?"

"i don't know, tommy. why would you?" your attitude seeped into your words , unfortunately.

"i'm not" he adds with a small chuckle

"is it cause my dad is a farmer?"

he turns to look at you for a second, with an almost amused expression "i don't care that your dad is a farmer."

"then why are you so secretive about it?" you ask again, casually. you needed to know why

"i just didn't think ya would want anyone to know, i'm giving ya chance to reconsider this before anything official 'appens."

you raise a brow at him "so this isn't official then?"

"i meant an engagement party, a public announcement. an entanglement that everyone will know about that ya wouldn't be able to escape."

"ya still think i'm being forced into this..." your voice is soft ,its almost a whisper as you connected the dots, your eyes roaming his face.

he doesn't respond back, he just takes a breath and keeps on driving.

"my father gave me a way out of this," you speak again, "i've had multiple chances to end this... entanglement or whatever the fuck ya want to call it. but i didnt take them."

"why not?" he asks almost immediately after, his eyes on you again

"because i didnt want to."

his eyes go back to the road , the rest of the drive is silent and you don't mind it. frankly you didn't know what other uncomfortable conversations you'd have if either one of you spoke again.

you don't wait for him to open the passenger door, you do it yourself. you two walk in and you groan internally, resisting the overwhelming desire to roll your eyes at the sight of the blonde secretary. her eyes lit up when she spots him and you could see her practically deflate as she saw you walk in with him.

"good mornin' , mr shleby." her voice is sweet, overly sweet you think you might gag at the sound of it.

he doesn't acknowledge her as he walks towards his office but only stops to turn, waiting for you to catch up. you walk and you both enter the office through the glass door, he leans down to whisper in your ear , not too close but close enough to make the air around you feel non-existent as you hold your breath.

"i'm still not fucking 'er , by the way."

it wasn't just the hairs on the back of your neck that stood, your whole body was now covered in goosebumps. you hold back the shudder that almost escaped you. he wasn't even that close but the sound of his voice, so near. the proximity, he's standing so close to you. you can almost physically feel the secretary staring, as if she wanted you to drop dead on the spot.

you let out a small chuckle, you hope that it masked the reaction that his words caused "you're not?" you don't move though, you're too scared. maybe you didn't want to ruin the moment

"i'm not."

you nod as you lean back and look at him, your nod is slow "i believe you" you say softly before taking a seat on that same chair

he takes his coat off and hangs it, then walks and heads for his chair "your only condition to our marriage is for your parents to be financially supported, correct?"

you nod again "correct."

he rereads a paper that he grabbed , before handing it to you "you wanted it in writing."

you hesitate before grabbing the paper yourself, your eyes skim through the black ink. you lick your lips as you see the word 'marriage' and see both of your names and then see his signature on the bottom. and an empty spot for your signature, he hands you a pen

"ya still 'ave one more chance."

your eyes snap up at him, before you grab the pen, you put the paper back on the desk and then sign it.

"and now i don't"

you two don't take your eyes off eachother, as you both acknowledged what just happened, that your fate was now sealed

"an engagement party is in order now, aye?"

you huff a small laugh "yeah, and it'll be fucking grand."

-

taglist ; @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 ,

[ferrstappen]

aren't we supposed to surprise you? l Charles Leclerc blurb

pairing: dad!Charles Leclerc x female reader.

you can find more of my version of dad Charles' here <3

summary: you somehow manage to overshadow Charles and Jo's gift.

Charles was an anxious man. Even more so since Josephine was born two years ago.

Yes, people laughed at him but he didn't care, he was going to sprint towards his daughter every time she took a wrong step and fell down, or his system would shut down whenever her lower lip trembled. Charles could communicate with his daughter through her eyes, they told him everything he needed to know in the meantime before she learned how to properly express herself.

They were an unstoppable duo, everybody knew that, but Charles was aware the reason both him and Jo could feel at ease and safe was you, and maybe he didn't remind you enough of that.

His mother and younger brother accompanied him to the various shops around Monaco, Pascale having to fight Charles to let her carry the stroll on the street, Arthur shaking his head at Charles' antics, playfully pitying his niece.

"I am going to make sure to take her to the worst tattoo parlors and pubs when she's older and then I'm showing you the images so you can die of a heart attack," Arthur teased his brother, earning a glare from Charles while being chastised by his mother, but the youngest Leclerc saw a smile on his mom's face.

Arthur winked at his niece and she giggled. Lorenzo had no chance of ever being the favorite uncle.

They entered different shops, not wanting to go for the typical jewelry and overly expensive designer clothing and accessories. No, Charles wanted to give you something you'd truly appreciate, something for you to relax and show yourself some love and distraction. Now it was turn for Arthur to carry Josephine while teasing his brother for being a simp.

A couple of books he thought you'd enjoy, different colored bath bombs, luxurious soaps and candles were some of the goods you were going to receive for Mother's Day.

Dad and baby Leclerc arrived got home greeted by the smell of coffee and some kind of pastry. It smelled like Charles' dream life; his life.

You smiled at Charles and gave him a quick peck on the lips before taking Josephine from his arms, your daughter babbling about papa and maman.

It was past midnight, Josephine sound asleep on her room after both you and Charles read her a short book in Italian, trying to accustom her to the language, all while you marveled at how Charles did the different voices and intonations.

Now it was just you and him in bed, his naked chest against your own skin, while his familiar hand found its place on your thigh, drawing shapeless figures, enjoying the peace of having you with him.

"I have to tell you something," You made sure to not make eye contact with Charles, hiding your face against his neck.

Charles chuckled with your reaction, "What is it and why are you hiding, bebé?" He tried to get you to face him.

"I know this wasn't planned or anything," you began talking but know Charles felt tears on his chest, it got him worried and helped you sit on the bed while assuring you whatever it was, you'd be able to find a solution.

"Babe, I'm two months pregnant," you announced and Charles placed his hand on his mouth in astonishment.

"No, in Bahrein?" Charles blurted out and a smile appeared on your face, of course that would be his first reaction as his brain processed the news.

You didn't know what you were expecting, maybe it was a problem because Josephine was still too young, maybe Charles didn't want another baby, you never really discussed it after Jo was born, but even in the dark his glossy green eyes were shining as his hand found its known place on your neck, his thumb softly caressing your cheek before lovingly kissing you.

those one of a kind kisses, the ones that were special and held so many emotions. neither of you could hide the smile appearing, only smiling at each other, Charles still caressing your cheek.

but suddenly he dropped his hand to your thigh, an unreadable expression on his face.

"But it's mother day and you're surprising me? No, I have this whole thing planned!" Charles protested and this made your eyes tear up, now it was your time to find his lips.

God, maybe it was time for a boy to mimic his dad.

[catboygirljoker]

some observations from going down a rabbit hole of japanese language xigbar yesterday

(apologies for the youtube watermarks. i got this clip from this video.)

[Video ID: a fifteen-second clip from a cutscene from kingdom hearts 3D: dream drop distance, with japanese audio and english-language visuals. it's the scene where xigbar tells sora that he's not going to wake up. end ID.]

keep in mind that this clip is just the japanese audio being played over the visuals from the english language release. the subtitles aren't a direct or literal translation of the words being spoken; they correspond to the localized dialogue that the english voice actors wouldve been given

hōchū ōtsuka (xigbar's japanese va) and james patrick stewart (his english va) give, to my ears, pretty similar vocal performances. this is the case for pretty much all of the characters ive seen so far in my xigbar-centric explorations (roxas's vas sound nearly IDENTICAL). the notable exception being xemnas, whose japanese va straight up sounds like he's trying to talk without moving his mouth

in the english dub cutscenes, the character animations often feel...floaty? disconnected? like, because they're not synced up to what the characters are saying and how, their gestures frequently seem random and unmotivated. in retrospect it's obvious that this issue wouldnt be present in the original language because that's the dialogue they would've been animated around in the first place!

now that im actually watching the character animation with the dialogue it was actually done for, i appreciate it a lot more. its so expressive. smiles.

at the end of xigbar's speech here you may notice him saying the phrase "tte hanashi." this is his japanese catchphrase! it means something along the lines of "so they say", "or so I've heard", et cetera. i love "as if" im a big fan of "as if" but i also love the idea of xigbar consistently undermining the information he gives and emphasizing how often he eavesdrops and spies on people.

he says "tte hanashi" very very often. multiple times in most of his scenes that ive seen so far. way more often than the english dub says "as if"

he doesn't say it normal like im pretty sure that's not how you say it in normal speech. like sometimes he does say it normal, but he always draws it out at least a little and often really draws it out, emphasizing it with some kind of gesture, like he does in the clip

seriously if there's a moment in the games where xigbar says something while doing a cunty little gesture he is probably saying "tte hanashi" in the japanese version

this is my new vocal stim. i can't stop saying it

[starboykel]

an artist and his muse ⭑⚝

artist! König x chubby!F!reader

!!content warnings: nudity, suggestive but nothing happens, Konig is slightly cold and rude, shaving, reader is described as 'plump' 'chubby'. Slow burn.

3,6k words — english isn't my first language, I apologize for any mistakes !

You were the daughter of a model, your father in his youngers was a famous model, modelling for artists and his body was practically all over Austria, in paintings, portraits, movies, you name it! Every slightly artistic place you went he was there. He was more famous in Austria than internacionally but he was still famous, a bunch of people would recognize him even in a small country, that was sure... And you were an introvert.

You didn't liked the attention, how everyone's eyes were always on you, trying to interview you, to get into your personal life and invading your space. You never meet your mother and the fact you looked a lot like your father didn't helped, apparently, you mother was an immigrant that got deported back to her country and her DNA was nowhere to be found... So you lived all your life with your father, Anton. You were half Austrian and half whatever your mother was, you didn't looked like an stereotypical Austrian girl, that was sure but you also didn't fit any other stereotype, making your beauty unique...

One thing was sure, the few genes that were in your body from your mother made a difference. While you father was more muscular, you were more plump, chubby. You father never bodyshamed you but he did made your exercise but you could never lose the weight, you weren't unhealthy you just... Couldn't change your body and surgery was out of question, your father never needed one, why would you?

One day, you decided to try modelling. Starting at something small since you didn't liked the spotlights, you model for a local clothes store that were looking for bigger model and just your last name made them immediately accept you. You just took a few photos and done, you made great money and was happy.

You decided to buy something sweet before going back home, you get inside a ice-cream parlor and orders your favorite milkshake and some donuts. You sit down on one of the comfy pink chairs and starts eating... Then, this wall of a man walks in, he had a long wavy ginger hair, a tired expression and glasses on, he was handsome, you can't deny it. He orders some sundae and sits down, waiting.

He takes off a sketchbook and starts sketching some poses and expressions. You decides to be nosy and peeks on it but he notices and closes the notebook, "oh sorry- I'm...I was just intrigued... Sorry." You apologizes, thinking you might have made him uncomfortable but then his sundae is ready and he stands up to grab it and then walks out of the parlor. You sigh and goes back to your donut.

You finished and just then you noticed, the man had forgotten his sketchbook. You grab it and opens it, he had a lot of drawings there, that man had so much talent, hot and smart? That's your type. His signature was almost unreadable but you can make a few letter out of it and assumes its something along the lines of 'König'... Well, king. You assume it's just a nickname, a bunch of artists has those artistic names just to be easily recognized and such. You liked how that sounds, 'König'...

You grabbed his sketchbook and starts walking around the city, looking for him but you couldn't find him anywhere, he could've took an Uber and already be in another city and you were there, with his random guy sketchbook... You take a closer look and finds at one of the last pages, 'If lost — call (xxxxxxxx)' and then a phone number. You dial the number on your cellphone and after a few seconds, it's accepted.

"Hello?" "Hello, hm... Is this König?" "Ja." You gulps, this man had only spoke two words and you were already falling in love with his deep voice.

"Uh... You were at the ice cream parlor earlier and you forgot your sketchbooks, I'm waiting here on front of it, I'm with it." You explains and it goes silent for a while. "Scheisse..." Then, he hangs out, leaving you confused. You assume he's coming, so you stay there.

...

You get distracted by your phone, spending time on whatever social media you were until you heard a raspy voice behind you, "Hey." You jump in surprise, looking at the guy behind... It was the big guy, "oh hey..." You replies and he reaches out for the sketchbook, in which you give him.

You two stare at each other until you can see him frowning under the mask, "You're... Anton's daughter?" He questions and you nods, his eyes widen slightly. "Mein gott... You're identical to him." He says, a bit amazed, you were beautiful but he thought you would be somewhere else, at a fancier ice cream parlor, where the ice creams would be so expensive a commoner like him wouldn't never even feel the sweet taste of the cold dessert... But you were in front of him, at a mediocre at best ice cream parlor, looking up at him with your pretty eyes.

"Everyone says that, you're not the first." You spoke, smiling up at him. "Oh by the way, what's your name? I saw here that is König but-" "Call me that." "Uh?" "König... My name is König." He interrupts you a few times, making you chuckles. "Well... You aleady know my name." You replies and he nods, "Who doesn't?" He jokes and laughs softly, making you giggle.

You look up at him. He wasn't an ugly guy, no, he was quite handsome actually, his smile was even prettier, the scar on his lips was such a charm and his tired eyes were so hypnotizing... You noticed you were staring for too long and looks back down, blushing slightly, getting embarrassed. "Sorry- I-i...I'm just intrigued, you're so tall and big." You excuses, gesturing confused, trying to explain yourself. He shakes his head, "I don't care." He says, a bit harshly, "I need to go, delete my number. Bye." He starts walking away before you could say goodbye back and question why he wanted you to delete his number... But you do as what he asked.

⚝

A few weeks passed by after the unusual encounter with the scary big artist guy at the ice cream parlor. You went to that same ice cream parlor practically everyday after modeling but he never came back.

One day, you were walking in the park, just looking around, petting some cats here and there, watching the ducks swimming and then you notice that same guy, with a canvas, painting the lake with the duck. He had his hair tied back this time, he notices you at the other side of the lake and looks at you for a moment before going back to the canvas. You quietly approached him, you weren't the only one watching him paint, 2 or 3 more people watching, one of them with a child but you were the only one there when he finished, at 6pm.

He stares at it. He doesn't look like someone that likes what he sees as he frowns slightly. "I think it looks good." You steps in, looking at the painting, a gentle breeze passing by, making you shiver, "oh, I forget how cold Austria can be sometimes..." You says, a bit embarrassed. He doesn't even look at you as he keeps eyeing the canvas, trying to figure how what he did wrong. He stares at it for a few minutes until it clicked... The ducks, he forgot the ducks but it was already late and he had to come back tomorrow to try again. He starts packing his thing while you rambled, he wasn't even paying attention. He walks away without looking at you.

"Rude..." You sighs and whispers to yourself until another cold breeze comes and you start running back home desperately.

Your father was at the living room when you got back home, "You forgot your hoodie?" He says, not taking the eyes out of the book he was reading, "I didn't know it would be that cold today." You replies. "It was all over the news, tonight it's a snow night." Your father says and before you could reply, he interrupts, "The bathtub it's filled with warm water, go take a shower, you smell bad." He complains. You rolls your eyes and goes to the bathroom.

You grab your cellphone before stepping into the bathtub, you always liked listening to music while cleaning yourself — even if your father complained —, you put on your favorite playlist but then, you receive a message. It was the clothe store you modelled for the last time.

"Hey, are you free next weekend? We need you to model some new skirts, shirts and sweaters for our winter season." It reads, you reply with a 'yes' and they send you the informations about the time and place.

⚝

The week passed by like a minute and it was already the weekend. You got ready for the photoshoot, took a shower, the hairstylists fixed your hair and you went to try on the new clothes, they were cute and really warm, the skirts had warm shorts sew on them, making a good job on protection and keeping the person warm, the sweaters were cute and really, really warm, the long sleeved shirts had a cute print on it. The photoshoot was at the park, they closed an area of the park so you could take the photos, you were really nervous since a lot of people were watching you pose and the snow was making everything harder, the cameraman having to often clean the lenses even with the lense protection because the thin snow was getting underneath it.

Everything went well, the photos were pretty, you were amazing and the clothes were ready to be sold, you even got a few of them! You were getting ready to leave the park when someone approached you... It was the big guy from a few days ago. He just... Stared at you, he hands you a paper and then walk away, he didn't even ran, he just... Simply, walked away, leaving you confused.

You opened the paper and it was... A bunch of sketches of the poses you were making during the photoshoot and a big sketch of you, even the smallest detail of the skirt and oh god, how did he made the sweater look so comfy with just a bunch of lines? Your eyes were practically shining, impressed by the amount of details. You noticed a phone number on the back of the paper, 'call me.' it says. You think for a moment and puts the paper on your backpack carefully.

⚝

It was 10pm when you got home, exhausted. The day was filled with you and the editor of the magazine of the clothe store, he was a new guy there and was always asking for your feedback, the only problem was that he talked a lot! He was talented, amazing, but he just couldn't shut up for a minute and you had to listen to his annoying rambling for hours to the point you started having a headache.

When you got home, you took some headache meds and took a warm shower, cleaned your hair and put on your pajamas. You practically jumped on the bed, the warm temperature of your room making you immediately fall asleep.

⚝

You woke up at 7am Went to the kitchen and you found a note, from your father, 'I went to Mödling, gonna meet a woman. Take care of yourself. There's money on my room, be safe and smart.' it wrote. You rolls your eyes and sighs, your father was always like this, went to another place, minutes, hours or even days away just to meet someone, it always annoyed you but you couldn't do anything, you're in your 20s and he was in his 50s, changing him wasn't easy and he absolutely loved his car, you think he loves that car more than he loves you... But at 7am?! He was crazy.

Anyway, you made some breakfast for yourself, something simple as you were just going to stay at home today. You were planning to just lay around and watch TV the whole day, you really wanted to watch that new series on Netflix... But then you remembered the paper the big guy gave you and the number on it. You decided to message him while you ate, not really thinking he would answer you, it was 7am after all...

'Hey, it's Anton's daughter, the model girl :) how are you?' you sends and then goes back to eating.

It took a few minutes but he texted back, 'hey'... Dry and simple as always. You two texted for a few minutes until he eventually went straight to the point.

'i need a model and I saw you at the park, you're perfect for what i want to do, how much do you ask for an hour?' He sends, you were taken by surprise, he wants you to model for him? Yeah, sure, whatever, that's what it's paying for bills for a long time now. 'how much are you willing to pay?' '€30/hour.' you think for a moment, €30 is fine but you don't know how long it is going to take... So you ask. 'How long it would take?' '4-5 hours.' oh wow, that was a quick response, he probably already has all your questions answered and you're just wasting your time now.

'when and where?' 'today at 10am, at the local museum, i have a room for myself there, it has cameras, you can call a friend if you want if it makes your feel safer with me, I just want to get my work done.' another quick response, you send him a thumbs up and he answered with an 'okay'.

You finished eating, washed the dishes, did your bed, organized the living room and took a shower, you don't often shave but you decided to shave your legs, arms and armpits. Exfoliating your skin gently and then using the soft razor that was like a massage on your skin, soft and gentle, then moisturizing with a cream for post-shave that smelled so good you were addicted.

It was 9:40am, you got dressed with something simple, simple jeans short, a white shirt and some comfortable shoes and socks, everything so simple that if someone saw you at the streets they couldn't even know your dad is one of the most famous men in Austria. You got into your bike and starts riding to the museum while listening to some music.

You arrived at the museum at 9:57am, took off your headphones and headed inside, König was there, waiting for you. You two looked at each other. "Hey." You says and he motions for you to follow him. He leads you to a backroom, filled with art supplies such as empty canvas, paints, a bunch of brushes, chair and such.

He takes a deep breath, "take off your clothes." He says, shocking you. Like, you don't even know his real name and he wants to see you naked?... Yeah, sure, that's what being a model means. You nods and takes off your clothes, staying on your bra and panties. He stares at your body for a moment but it doesn't look like he's looking at you lustful or like something sexual but rather as something to be studied and adored. He nods and explains you how to pose.

He sits you in the edge of a chair, putting your hands on your knees, 'the palms down' he repeats, tilting your head a bit to the left side, letting your hair fall in your shoulders, placing the right leg over the left one and arching your spine a bit.

After 40 minutes or so, you couldn't tell the time, you started to get bored, he wasn't talking to you and making small talk was useless, that man was concentrated and didn't want to talk. "Hey." You say and he doesn't even look at you, "hey... Heeey!!" He then looks at you, sounding a bit frustrated, "what?" "Can you turn the TV on? I'm bored." He sighs and turns on the TV, putting on a random sitcom. It was good, too good, you starts chuckling and giggling at the bad jokes, smiling and probably ruining the neutral expression he wanted you to keep.

He shakes his head, "You seem to be enjoying yourself." He commented, not leaving his eyes out of you and the canvas. "It's not everyday i pose practically naked for an artist i met at an ice cream parlor." You answered and he even smiles a bit.

"Thats true." He replies and continues on the painting, after a few minutes, you opened your mouth again. "Do you work with your art?" You asks, he nods, "I do commissions, people pay me to paint then and I have my own little exhibition on the museum." He replies, brushing the canvas talentedly, seeming a bit more good humored.

"Do you paint a lot of naked people or is it just me?" You asks, smiling and König laughs a bit. "I've had my fair share of naked paintings, you're not the first one and probably not the last." He laughed but it didn't last long until his cold expression came back. His expressions change so quickly it's actually impressive.

⚝

You were getting tired, your butt was hurting of sitting down on that goddamn chair for so long and your hand was itching and the sitcom was getting bored, how long has it passes? 2 hours, 3 hours? Before you could fall asleep, König speaks, "We are gonna do a pause now, it's..." He looks at the clock, "It's 1pm, I'm gonna get us some lunch. Put your back on if you wish." He stated and put the brush and palette he was using on the table next to the canvas. You grab your clothing and puts it back on, it was good to put your clothes back on, you stepped outside and... Oh, it was snowing again and you didn't had your hoodie with you, damn.

You followed König to a cafeteria, it was a simple and cute little place with not a lot of people and a cheap selfservice. You got just spaghetti and orange juice and König... His plate was a mess, honestly, and he was drinking water. You decided to start some small talk, "How old are you?" You ask. "32." He replied, more focused on eating than answering you, you nodded, taking the hint that he doesn't want to talk but at least now you know his age. And you two got back to the museum after eating at 1:40pm.

⚝

Hours passed by like a minute and all of a sudden, he was finished with the painting and you were tired and it was just 5pm! He grabbed the canvas to the outside to dry while you put your clothes back on and drank some water. You went outside to the garden, where he was with the painting and you finally got a look at the canva... It was amazing, beautiful, you were mesmerized, your eyes shining but then, the cold breeze hits you again, slapping you out of your state, "Oh, shit-" you complained, hugging yourself to keep warm.

König looks at you and sighed, he approached you and took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, "I'll take you home. It's not safe to ride a bike in the snow." He says and leads you outside, you nods and follows him, putting on his warm jacket. He opens the car's door to you, what a gentleman.

You tell him his address and he starts driving, the bike on the car trunk, the warmer of the car keeping you two warm and a music coming out of the radio. It took a few minutes to get home and you the two of you got there, what was just a simple snow turned into a snow storm, you didn't thought twice when you insisted to visit him inside... But he refused.

"I can go home. I'll be fine." He insisted, "No, c'mon, I'll make some coffee for us, I- "I said no." He says, as cold as the snow, he walks away like the first time you two meet at the ice cream parlor. You were frustrated, all of that, he saw you naked, he payed for your food, he drove you home and he wouldn't let you return the favor? "Rude!" You shouts and he turns back to you, looking a you frowning, "What's wrong with you? I just want to help! It's a snow storm, you're gonna get stuck in the snow! Let me return the favor, König!" You shouts, the sound of the wind muffling your voice slightly. He seemed to think for a moment when he starts walking back to you and get inside your house.

König took a deep breath and looks at you as you locked the door and took off your shoes. "Why?" He asks and you looks up at him, "what-" "Why are you helping me? Why do you care?" He interrupts, sounding a bit desperate, damn, who hurt this man? "I couldn't let you freeze outside, you'd die." You replies, turning on the warmer. It was just 6:30pm and you were hungry and delivery was out off limit so you would have to cook. He nods and sits down on the couch, looking nervous.

You went to the kitchen and starts to cut some vegetables, he quietly walks behind you, "can I help?" He offered his help and you give him the meat, "Cut it, season it with salt and add it to the oil in the frying pan." You practically ordered, focused on the vegetables. He does as you asked, you two talk while cooking and you discovered a few things about him. He was single, served the army for 10 years, was an only child and was allergic to peanuts and some other things. His smile was beautiful and his long hair falling on his broad shoulders was so handsome... He was handsome!

You and König sat down to eat looking at each other, "Hm- you put too much salt on the meat." You commented and he smiles, "sorry." He apologizes. You two eat mostly in silence and it was already 7:50pm when the plates were empty and the dishes were clean. You helped König organize the guest room for him, finally fixing the broken warmer of the room with his help, you gave him a disposable toothbrush and grabbed a few clothes from your dad so König could shower.

It was 9:20pm, König was sleeping and you were on your room... Feeling a warm sensation on your chest, it was love, it was obvious but you don't know if he loves you back, he was so hard to understand, difficult to read. You took a deep breath and tried to relax, you fell asleep after some long minutes.

⚝

You woke up at 8am and went to the living room, you saw König getting ready to leave. He looks at you, "Hey." He says, "Thank you for letting me sleep here tonight." He added, you nods. You approached him and gives him a hug, "Be safe out there, okay?" You says and he returns the hug, in a bold movement, he kisses you forehead and smiles, "Bye... Can you open the door?" You nods, blushing slightly, you open the door and steps ouside, the snow practically melted, he waves at you and smiles, "Bye!" You waves back, smiling and blushing. You close the door and sighs happily, your heart beating fast, your face red and a dumb smile on your face.

Well, you have things to do, so it's best to forget him for now. For now.

┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄

Askbox is open!

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 23/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, hurt, PAIN(!), Ben being too rough (well, again), soft Ben

Word Count: 6482

A/N: This is part 23 of “His only exception”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As Ben's chest stopped glowing, a sense of relief washed over both of you, the tension dissipating into the air. Without a word, he pulled your face closer, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the emotions that had been building between you for so long, a culmination of longing, desire, and love.

His heart raced against yours, matching the rhythm of your own heartbeat as you melted into each other's embrace. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you, lost in the intensity of your connection.

Your cheeks flushed with warmth as Ben pulled you onto his lap, enveloping you in his strong arms. He was holding you close as he continued to shower you with passionate kisses. With each tender touch of his lips against yours, you felt yourself melting into his embrace, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment.

Wrapped in his arms, you felt safe.

As Ben pulled away, you allowed yourself to sink back against his chest, relishing in the warmth of his embrace. His arms around you felt like a sanctuary, offering comfort and security in the midst of chaos. You nestled more against him.

His grip was gentle yet firm, as if he were afraid to let go, afraid to lose you if he stopped holding you close.

As you stirred from your sleep the next morning, you found yourself waking to the sight of Ben slipping on the clothes you had bought for him. His grunts and displeased expression made it clear that he wasn't particularly fond of the attire you had chosen.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you watched him with a mixture of amusement and fondness, marveling at how even in the early morning light, he still managed to exude an air of rugged charm.

You tiredly asked, "What's the matter?".

Ben glanced at you and scoffed, grumbling, "Only pussies or homeless people wear fucking flannel". He adjusted the red and black flannel at its collar, the material stretching slightly over his muscular back and arms.

You couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his grumpy demeanor, finding his irritation oddly endearing in the morning light.

You teased him, "Well, I happen to think you look incredibly hot in it". Slowly, you sat up, watching him as he examined himself in the mirror.

He shot you a playful glare, though there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, yeah, keep talking like that, and I might just start believing you", he retorted, his voice laced with amusement.

You chuckled softly, before standing up and making your way towards the bathroom to freshen up. Ben followed closely behind, his gaze lingering on you as you stepped into the shower.

As the warm water cascaded over you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, despite the tumultuous events of the past few days. You turned to face Ben, the steam swirling around you.

You were just happy to have him back.

"So, what's the plan now?", you asked, your voice muffled slightly by the sound of running water. You hoped he wouldn't resort to seeking revenge, but deep down, you feared it might be his only plan.

Ben leaned against the bathroom doorway, his expression thoughtful as he considered your question. He ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't know", he admitted, his voice low and contemplative.

Ben's voice was steely as he continued, his eyes dark with determination. "Butcher and the other cocksuckers will pay, that´s for sure", he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You felt a chill run down your spine at the intensity of his words, knowing that Ben was deadly serious about seeking revenge.

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower, the warm mist clinging to your skin as you reached for the towel Ben held out for you. He stood there, his muscular frame towering over you, his gaze soft yet determined as he watched you.

With a soft smile, you wrapped the towel around yourself.

Ben's gaze softened as he looked down at you, his hand gently brushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. The tender gesture sent a wave of warmth flooding through you, your heart fluttering in response.

As you met his gaze, you couldn't help but blush under his intense scrutiny. Thoughts of your confession from the night before raced through your mind, filling you with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty.

Until now, he didn´t said those words back, but he didn´t needed to. His eyes said it all. The way he had looked at you had changed.

But without a warning, thoughts of Jay, your job, and the complexities of your life flooded your mind, you couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that gripped you. Slowly, you backed away from Ben, the weight of your conflicting emotions pressing down on you.

The room felt suddenly stifling, suffocating you with the weight of your own indecision. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you grappled with the tumultuous whirlwind of emotions raging within you.

Ben's brow furrowed in concern as he noticed your retreat, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Hey, what's wrong?", he asked, his voice soft with genuine concern.

You bit your lip, struggling to find the words to express what was going on. How could you explain the tangled mess of emotions swirling in your mind—the guilt, the fear, the longing?

"I…", you began, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't know, Ben. It's just… everything".

Ben sensed your hesitation, his gaze probing as he tried to decipher the source of your unease. "Is there something you're not telling me?", he asked. Knowing you better than you ever would expect.

You swallowed hard, the weight of your secrets pressing down on you. "It's… nothing, Ben… just a lot of… emotions", you replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

But Ben wasn't convinced. He could see through the facade you tried to maintain. With a sigh, he reached out and gently took your hand. "Get dressed", he said quietly. "We're going home".

While sitting on the plane a few hours later, Ben scrolled through the options for hotels, his vision occasionally blurred, leaving him feeling disoriented and out of sorts. He couldn't quite pinpoint the cause of the sudden change, but it gnawed at him nonetheless.

Despite his best efforts to shake off the feeling, it lingered, casting a shadow over his thoughts as he searched for a place to stay. Each passing moment only deepened his sense of unease, leaving him grappling with a strange sense of foreboding.

As the plane continued on its course, Ben couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, a nagging sense of dread that refused to be ignored. But try as he might, he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was that troubled him so deeply.

As the plane touched down, Ben roused you from your sleep with a gentle shake, his touch slightly rougher than before. You blinked groggily, the remnants of sleep still clinging to your senses as you stirred.

"Hey, wake up", he said, his voice firm but not unkind.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you groaned in response, stretching languidly as you tried to shake off the fog of sleep. It took a moment for the realization to sink in that you had arrived at your destination.

You gathered your belongings before disembarking. Stepping into the airport terminal, you followed Ben as he led the way to the hotel. Once there, he took care of checking in while you waited on a small couch in the lobby.

As you sat, you idly played with your phone, before turning it back on.

As you turned on your phone, a call from Annie came in almost immediately. With a surge of frustration and anger bubbling inside you, you answered the call, your voice tight with emotion.

"What the fuck do you want?" you demanded, your tone edged with annoyance. "Why did you lie to me about Ben? Why was he captured? I hope you have a damn good explanation for all the bullshit you pulled!".

Annie's voice crackled through the phone, her tone strained with apprehension. "Look, I know it's a lot to take in, but there were reasons—"

"Reasons?" you interrupted, your frustration mounting. "What fucking reasons could possibly justify capturing Ben? He's been through enough already!".

The line fell silent for a moment before Annie spoke again, her voice softer this time. "I understand how you feel, but there are things you don't know. We had to make difficult decisions to keep everyone safe".

You clenched your jaw, struggling to contain your anger. "To keep everyone safe? Are you kidding me right now? Ben didn´t do anything. He even helped us with homelander!" you snapped. "Ben isn't some villain that needs to be locked away. You should have told me the damn truth from the beginning!"

Annie sighed heavily on the other end of the line, her tone apologetic. "I'm sorry, (y/n). I know you're upset, and I wish things could have been different. Just know that-…".

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Annie", you interrupted, your voice trembling with emotion. "Not fucking now! I… I hope you survive this".

With that, you ended the call, unable to bear the weight of the conversation any longer. As you stared at your phone, your hands trembling with emotion, you felt a surge of anger and sadness wash over you.

Ben approached you, his footsteps heavy with purpose as he reached your side. "Come on", he said softly. "Let's get in our room".

As his hand settled on your lower back, his touch grounding you in the present moment, you nodded in silent agreement. With a deep breath, you rose from the couch, following Ben as he led the way to your shared sanctuary for the night. Of course he could overhear the conversation.

As you sank onto the bed, exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders, you looked up at Ben, who stood before you, his expression unreadable.

"Are you going to kill them?", you asked, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them.

Ben paused for a moment, his gaze piercing as he considered your question. "I thought about it", he admitted, his voice low and gravelly. "But right now, I won't. I want them to live, but under my control. At least for now".

He moved closer, his hand resting on your shoulder. "But before I do anything", he continued, "I want to spend some time with you. Alone".

Ben pulled you close to his chest, his arms enveloping you in a protective embrace.

"How do you feel?", you asked softly.

"How do I feel?", he repeated, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Like I'm the fucking luckiest guy in the world, having you by my side".

You playfully pinched Ben's chest, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you looked up at him. Despite his flaws, you knew there was a part of Ben that genuinely cared for you.

"Are you really okay, though?", you asked. "I mean, after everything that happened, it's a lot to process".

"Stop worrying your pretty little head about me", he said in a teasing tone, his hand reaching out to playfully tousle your hair. Before you could respond, he swiftly pulled you up by your hips, lifting you effortlessly and tossing you onto the king-size bed.

You braced yourself on your arms, watching intently as Ben peeled off his flannel and shirt, revealing his sculpted arms and chiseled stomach.

"Damn", you murmured with a big smirk, unable to tear your eyes away from his body.

"Like what you see?", Ben teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he undid his belt with deliberate slowness. "Or should I put the shirt back on?".

You bit your lip. "Absolutely not", you chuckled.

"Good", he said, his voice low and husky. "Now, c'mere".

You eagerly complied, stepping closer to the edge of the bed as he approached. His commanding presence sent shivers down your spine as he stood before you, his jeans hanging low on his hips.

"Open them", he ordered.

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you reached out and deftly unbuttoned Ben's jeans, slowly, so so slowly pulling down the zipper. As you did, his bulge pressed against the fabric, eager to be released. You had easily reversed the roles.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?", he asked slightly surprised about your teasing.

You smirked up at him, reveling in the power you held over him in this moment. "Maybe a little", you replied coyly, your fingers grazing over his growing arousal.

"Come on, babe", Ben urged, his voice husky with need. "Quit teasing".

His impatience only fueled your desire to tease him further, but you relented, freeing his throbbing length from its confines.

"Get on with it", Ben ordered and gazed down at you with a hungry intensity. "Don´t use your hands".

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a surge of arousal coursing through you at his command. With a deep breath, you leaned forward, wrapping your lips around his throbbing length. As you began to suck him, you made sure to follow his instructions, keeping your hands firmly at your sides.

Ben groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided your movements. The sensation of your mouth on him sent shivers of pleasure coursing through his body, his hips instinctively moving in rhythm with your motions.

With each passing moment, the tension in the room grew, the air thick with desire as you pleasured him with your mouth alone.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice husky with arousal. "Just like that. You're doing so good".

With each passing moment, you could feel him growing harder in your mouth, his breaths becoming more ragged as pleasure washed over him.

"Keep going, baby".

Ben groaned with pleasure as he felt himself nearing the edge, impressed by your quick learning and eager enthusiasm. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled himself out of your mouth, his fingers curling around your chin as he surprisingly gentle lifted you up onto your knees.

"Turn around".

You complied without hesitation, feeling a shiver of anticipation coursing through you as you shifted to face away from him, presenting yourself to him eagerly.

You felt a rush of excitement as Ben pulled down your jeans and panties, exposing your ass and wet folds to his hungry gaze. A soft moan escaped your lips as you felt his hands caress your skin, his touch sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

His fingers trailed along the curve of your ass, teasingly brushing against your wetness before parting your folds, his breath hot against your skin as he took in the sight before him.

"You're so fucking wet", Ben growled as he continued to spread your folds, his fingers tracing the outline of your dripping slit.

You whimpered in response, your body trembling with anticipation.

As Ben grabbed his dick at the base and ran the tip through your slick folds.

With each teasing stroke, your desire for him grew more intense, your body aching to be filled by him. You moaned softly, your breath coming in short gasps as you arched your back, pressing your ass against him in silent encouragement.

With each teasing stroke of his tip against your slick folds, your arousal grew, your need for him becoming almost unbearable. You pleaded with him, your voice thick with desire as you begged for him to finally take you.

But Ben remained steadfast, his grin widening as he relished in your desperation. "Not yet", he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "I want to make you beg for it".

You groaned in frustration, your body throbbing with need as you strained against him, desperate for release.

But that's what you get for thinking it would be a good idea to tease Soldier Boy.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

As Ben raised an eyebrow, his expression turning more amused, he couldn't help but notice the sound of your eyes rolling in frustration. "Did you just roll your eyes at me?", he asked incredulously, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Before you could respond, he squeezed your ass cheek firmly, his grip strong enough to leave a bruise. The sudden pressure sent a jolt of pleasure through you, causing you to gasp in surprise. "You know better than to be fucking disrespectful", he chided playfully, his voice low and husky with desire.

With a playful grin, you glanced back at Ben over your shoulder, teasingly asking, "Want an apology now?".

Before you could react, Ben delivered a slap to your ass. You gasped at the sudden sting, feeling a rush of heat spreading through your body. "How's that for an fucking apology?".

Ben paused for a moment, studying your reaction closely. A sly grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he realized the effect his actions were having on you.

"You kinda like that, don't you?", he teased, his voice low and husky as he observed you.

You blushed furiously, but Ben couldn't see your face from his position behind you. "Maybe", you admitted, your voice tinged with embarrassment as you squirmed slightly under his touch.

Ben chuckled softly, his voice husky with desire as he teased, "Well, maybe I'll have to explore that a bit more later".

With a firm grip on your hips, he pulled you back against him, aligning his throbbing cock with your dripping pussy. The anticipation sent shivers down your spine as you felt the head of his length pressing against your slick folds, teasing you with the promise of pleasure to come.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Ben pushed himself inside you, inch by inch, until he was fully seated deep within your wet warmth. You gasped at the sensation.

He groaned lowly, his hips rocking gently against yours as he relished in the exquisite pleasure of being joined with you.

You whimpered beneath him, the slow, lazy pace driving you to the brink of madness. Each deliberate thrust sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins, but it wasn't enough to satisfy the burning desire building inside you.

You struggled against him, craving more, but Ben held you firmly in place, his grip unyielding as he continued to pound into you with agonizing slowness. His actions felt like a punishment for your earlier disrespect, and you couldn't help but squirm beneath him, desperate for release.

"Ben… please", you begged, your voice thick with need as you pleaded with him to go faster, to give you more.

But Ben remained unfazed, his movements calculated and controlled. "Not yet", he murmured huskily.

You clenched your teeth, frustration bubbling inside you as you struggled to maintain your composure.

"Come on, Ben", you whined, your voice tinged with irritation. "Stop being such a dick and just fuck me already".

Your words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence as Ben paused, his gaze darkening with amusement. Then, without warning, he gripped your hips tightly and drove into you with a sudden, forceful thrust that stole your breath away.

"Is that what you want, sweetheart?", he growled. "You want me to fuck you hard and fast until you can't think straight?".

You nodded eagerly, your body pulsing with need as you surrendered to the pleasure of his dominance.

With a wicked grin, Ben leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he whispered teasingly in your ear. "You want it rough, huh? Thought you didn´t like it", he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Well, you better be careful what you wish for, sweetheart. You might just get more than you bargained for".

Despite the warning in his tone, you couldn't help but moan in anticipation, the thought of his rough touch igniting a fire deep within you. You knew you'd be sore tomorrow, but right now, all you could think about was the exquisite pleasure of his dominance. You needed it.

“Take me like you would if I were a Supe,” you pleaded.

Your desperate plea hung in the air as Ben stilled above you, his expression unreadable for a few heart-stopping moments. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "You have no idea what you're asking for", he warned, his tone tinged with a hint of concern.

But you were beyond reason, consumed by the fiery desire coursing through your veins. "I can handle it", you insisted, your voice breathless with need. "Please, Ben, I need it".

He regarded you for a long moment. As he leaned down, his lips grazing your ear as he murmured huskily, "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you".

Ben began to move inside you with his usual intensity, well, a slighter version of it, the grip of his hands on your hips tightened, bruising your skin and making it feel as though your hipbones might break under the pressure. Despite the forcefulness of his thrusts, there was a deliberate restraint in his movements, a careful balance between his desire and his need to protect you from the full extent of his strength.

With each powerful thrust, you felt a mixture of pleasure and pain coursing through your body, the sensation heightened by the knowledge of the immense power Ben possessed. Despite the discomfort, there was an undeniable thrill in surrendering to his dominance, in allowing him to take you with such raw, primal force.

For Ben, the struggle to hold back his superhuman strength was a constant battle. As he moved inside you, he focused on maintaining control, on channeling his desire into measured, controlled movements that conveyed both his passion and his restraint.

As you surrendered to the intensity of the moment, a part of you acknowledged the immense restraint Ben showed in holding back his superhuman strength. Deep down, you knew that if he were to unleash his full power, he could easily shatter your fragile human form.

Yet, there was a twisted thrill in knowing that he held back for you, that his desire to protect you outweighed his own primal instincts. It was a reminder of the depth of his feelings for you, of the lengths he would go to ensure your safety, even at the cost of his own pleasure.

But you struggled to contain the wild, reckless desire brewing within you.

With a voice laced with desperation, you whispered, "Just one time, Ben. I want to feel all of it, even if just for a moment. I need to know… I need to feel…".

Your words trailed off, your heart pounding with anticipation and fear. You knew the risks, the potential consequences of inviting such power into your fragile human body. But in that moment, the allure of experiencing Ben's full strength, even for a fleeting moment, overwhelmed all sense of reason.

Ben hesitated, his gaze on your small back, as he grappled with the weight of your request. His jaw clenched, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before being replaced by determination.

"You don't understand", he began, his voice low and tinged with frustration. "I can't… I won't risk hurting you. Not like that".

As you looked over your shoulder, a mix of desire and frustration evident in your eyes, Ben's resolve wavered. He knew he should resist, that giving in to your request could have dangerous consequences. Yet, the primal urge to satisfy your desires warred with his sense of responsibility to keep you safe.

With a deep exhale, Ben leaned back slightly, his gaze locked with yours as he searched for any sign of hesitation or doubt. But all he found was unwavering determination mirrored in your eyes, a silent plea urging him to give in to your desires.

His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. "Alright. If that's what you want…", he relented, his voice husky with desire. "But just this once".

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of their implications.

With a firm grip on your waist, Ben's hands tensed as he prepared to unleash his full strength. With a low growl, he thrust into you with force, the sheer power behind his movement catching you off guard.

The impact was jarring, sending a bolt of pain shooting through your body as you jolted forward in response. The intensity of his thrust was almost too much to bear, each movement driving you to the brink of pleasure and pain.

As he continued to drive into you with relentless force, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, the line between pleasure and pain blurring into a haze of raw sensation.

As tears mingled with sweat on your flushed cheeks, you lay flat on the mattress, your body trembling beneath the weight of Ben's relentless thrusts. Each movement sent shockwaves of pain through your core, but a fierce determination burned within you, urging you to endure for Ben's sake.

Despite the agony coursing through your veins, you gritted your teeth and clung to the edge of the mattress, willing yourself to withstand the overwhelming force of Ben's desire. With each painful thrust, you offered yourself up to him, determined to give him what he desired, no matter the cost.

Beneath the weight of his strength, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of surrender.

As Ben reached the peak of his desire, he came with a intensity that rocked both of you to the core. With a deep groan, he released himself deep inside you, filling you with his warmth as your body trembled beneath him.

The sensation was overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as you gasped for breath, your senses reeling from the sheer intensity of the moment. Ben collapsed above you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as you both struggled to catch your breath.

As Ben slowly pulled out, a mixture of his cum and a trace of blood from your tender flesh trickled down your folds, evidence of the intensity of your encounter. The pain in your pussy and lower belly was palpable, rendering you unable to move as you lay there.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air heavy with the weight of what had just transpired. Ben's expression changed as he looked down at you, concern flickering in his eyes as he took in your state.

"You okay?", he asked carefully, his voice laced with genuine worry.

Ben settled beside you, he gently lifted your chin, coaxing you to meet his gaze. Seeing the tears pooling in your eyes, frustration creased his brow, a mixture of concern and regret evident in his expression.

Ben let go of your chin, his expression weighed down by a heavy sense of regret and frustration. "I knew this was a fucking bad idea", he muttered, his voice tinged with anger at himself. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident in the way his fingers clenched into fists.

You winced as you shifted on the bed, the pain in your body still raw from the intensity of his thrusts. You could feel his anger radiating off him, his frustration palpable in the tension that hung between you.

His gaze wandered over your body, taking in the sight of the blood between your legs, his heart clenching with a mix of concern and anger. "I can't believe you fucking wanted that", he muttered, his voice laced with frustration.

You reached out to cup his face, a silent plea in your eyes, but he swiftly took your hand away and got up from the bed. His movements were tense and rigid as he paced the room. He had promised himself that he would never hurt you again and yet he did it again.

After a few minutes, Ben came back from the bathroom and carefully picked you up. You could see Ben was hurt. You had pressured him into something he didn't really wanted to do. And now he was angry. Angry with himself.

His face remained tense as he carried you into the bathroom without a word, his arms strong and sure as he cradled you in his embrace. Despite the anger simmering beneath the surface, there was a hint of concern in his eyes as he gently lowered you into the warm water of the bathtub.

As you sank into the soothing embrace of the water, you felt a sense of relief wash over you, the pain beginning to ebb away slightly with each passing moment. But Ben's tension remained palpable, his jaw clenched as he busied himself with adjusting the temperature of the water.

You reached out again, your hand trembling as you gently grasped Ben's, pulling it away from the tap. "Please, Ben", you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Look at me".

Ben's gaze flickered towards you, his expression pained as he met your eyes. He hated himself in that moment, his heart heavy with the weight of his actions. The realization of how close he had come to causing you serious harm gnawed at him, filling him with a deep sense of regret.

"If I had lost control… if I had hurt you worse…", he trailed off, unable to voice the thoughts that plagued him. Despite his superhuman abilities, he was only too aware of the fragility of your human form, and the thought of causing you such pain or worse was unbearable.

You reached out, gently cupping Ben's face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "I wanted it, Ben", you insisted, your voice steady despite the pain coursing through your body. "I knew the risks, and I wanted it anyway".

Ben looked into your eyes, his expression conflicted. He remained squatting beside the bathtub, his eyes fixed on the soft red hue of the water, lost in his own thoughts.

Ben let out a frustrated grumble, his brows furrowing as he wrestled with his own inner turmoil. "I'm older than you", he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration. "I should know better. I'm the fucking supe, damn it. I've got the power, and I need to be the one to know how to handle it".

His words carried a weight of responsibility and self-recrimination, his frustration evident in the way he clenched his fists at his sides.

You let go of his hand. “Ben, I know you’re trying to protect me”, you said softly, your voice filled with empathy. “But sometimes, I need you to trust me too. Trust that I can handle myself, even in situations like this”.

Ben's shoulders tensed at your words, a hint of frustration flickering across his features. "Trust you?", he spat out sarcastically, his tone laced with bitterness. "Yeah, I saw how well you handled yourself back there".

His words stung. Yet, beneath his bitterness, you sensed a deeper struggle within him.

Ben rose to his feet, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern as he looked down at you. "I just don't want to see you get hurt anymore", he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "Especially not because of me. I promised you I would never hurt you and-…".

You reached out, grasping his hand in yours once more, your touch gentle yet firm. "I know", you replied softly, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. "But sometimes, taking risks is worth it, if it means being with you".

Ben let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as he processed your words. "Just take your fucking bath", he muttered, his tone resigned as he turned and left the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

Alone in the bathroom, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the way things had unfolded between you and Ben. But deep down, you knew that despite the challenges and disagreements, your bond with him was stronger than ever.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, the warm steam dissipating around you, you found Ben sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in his thoughts. His brow furrowed in concentration, he seemed unaware of your presence as he stared off into the distance.

Taking tiny, pain-filled steps, you approached him cautiously. Despite the tension that lingered between you, you couldn't bear the thought of leaving things unresolved.

"Ben", you called softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood before him, uncertain of how to break through the wall of silence that enveloped him.

As Ben slowly looked up, his gaze meeting yours, you braced yourself for what might come next. But to your surprise, instead of a stern expression or harsh words, he pulled you gently onto his lap.

You held your breath, uncertain of his intentions, but then he cupped your cheek tenderly before pressing his lips softly against yours. In that moment, all the tension and uncertainty melted away, replaced by a rush of warmth and affection that enveloped you both.

As you mumbled an apology for pushing him, Ben silenced you with another kiss, his lips soft yet firm against yours. He held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you, as if he never wanted to let you go.

After a few moments, Ben pulled away, his gaze locking with yours as he spoke softly. "You're all I have", he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity.

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their meaning, as you felt the depth of his emotions wash over you.

As Ben kissed you again, his lips conveying a depth of emotion that words couldn't express, you felt a rush of warmth flooding through you, you never felt before. With gentle yet possessive hands, he guided you onto the bed, his body hovering above yours as he continued to shower you with kisses.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, you melted into his embrace, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours, the weight of his body pressing against you.

Ben's lips traced a path from your jaw to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. In a low, husky voice, he whispered, "I won't ever do this again, no matter how much you fucking beg".

His words carried a weight of finality, a promise made in earnest. Despite the lingering desire between you, he was determined to protect you, even from yourself.

With a soft, almost pleading tone, you murmured, "But you said it yourself, Ben. You needed this. You needed to be able to get rid of your tension".

Your words hung in the air, a reminder of the complexities of your relationship and the conflicting desires that pulled you together.

Ben pulled away, his gaze intense as he searched your eyes for the truth. "Is that the reason why you asked for this?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and disbelief.

You nodded softly, your heart pounding in your chest as you met his gaze. "Yeah", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben's expression hardened, his frustration boiling over. "Are you for fucking real?", he snapped, his tone sharp and cutting.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you struggled to find the right words. "I just can't stand the thought of you being with someone else", you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion. "Especially because I know I can't give you what you need".

Tension hung heavy in the air between you as Ben processed your words, his expression softening slightly as he reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face.

"Listen. I know I can be fucking difficult sometimes", he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm not used to… this", he continued, gesturing between the two of you. "But I'm not fucking dumb. I got the point loud and clear about how you feel about what happened with the hooker at the strip club".

Ben let out a heavy sigh as he noticed your lingering uncertainty. "I won't do something like that again", he assured you, rolling his eyes slightly. "But that doesn't mean you have to put yourself in danger just to satisfy me".

His words carried a note of frustration, his concern for your well-being evident in the way he held you close to him.

You felt Ben's lips brush against yours in a tender peck before he pulled back, his gaze immediately drifting towards your lower body. "So, how do you feel?", he inquired softly, his concern evident in his voice.

With a slight grimace, you admitted, "My belly hurts, and I'm fucking sore".

Ben's hand gently wandered down to your lower belly, hovering right above the hem of your panties. "Here?", he asked softly, his touch tentative as he awaited your response.

You nodded.

Feeling your confirmation, Ben's touch remained gentle as he traced his fingertips lightly over the sensitive skin of your lower belly. He furrowed his brow in concern, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he assessed your reaction.

"Does it hurt a lot?", he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern as he continued to caress your skin.

You sucked in your bottom lip and nodded again.

Gently, he applied a bit more pressure and with it some heat with his hand, trying to alleviate some of the pain radiating from your lower belly.

As Ben lay down on the bed, he pulled you close into his arms, pressing you carefully against him. His warm hand remained on your belly.

"Get some fucking sleep, sweetheart", he murmured against the top of your head.

You closed your eyes, feeling the tension slowly ebbing away as you started to relax.

———————————

A/N: Just look at that ass, damn it. He´s fucking 46 but Fuuuuck, he´s sooo fine.

And of course, Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 24

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee

[daddy-issues-99]

Vincent Sinclair x f!reader smut: First time

He's so innocent give him some love!

Word count: 1200

afab reader, soft sex, inexperienced Vincent, riding, praise, all around fluffy lovey sex <3

Vincent was something special: introverted, artistic, romantic, though not many people saw that besides you of course. But you were grateful for that. He treated you like a goddess, always putting you first, making sure you were happy and loved. But he always wanted to give you more, something more passionate, but he never quite could.

Vincent was passionate for sure but he never really knew how to satisfy you. Sure he's heard about crappy one night stands from Bo but that's hardly love, but, that's well...Bo.

You knew Vincent wanted to try, wanted to make you happy and satisfied like he'd read about and been told but every time he got his hands on you he would eventually back off, embarrassed and somewhat ashamed.

It wasn't his fault, he just didn't know the right way, but that was okay. Who are you to not teach him? After all, he deserves the world after everything he's done for you, why not give him a hand?

Bo had left for the night to go work at the shop and Lester was God knows where, leaving you and Vincent alone in the home. You slowly crept down the stairs to the basement where Vincent was blissfully working on one of his sculptures. You smile and quietly walked over to him, placing your hands on his shoulders, causing him to instinctively tense up.

You giggle slightly at his reaction before kissing the cheek of his mask. "It looks beautiful" You said with a smile, motioning to the new statue. He nods, leaning into your touch as a gesture of gratitude. You smile and gently grab his hands, pulling him up from the chair he's sitting in.

"I wanna try something" You say with an enthusiastic and excited expression. He tilts his head slightly before you gently pull him back up the stairs and towards the second floor.

You gently lead him to your shared bedroom, shutting the door behind you before gently pulling Vincent's hands into yours. He's visibly tense, if he wasn't wearing the mask, he'd definitely be blushing.

You smirk at his slight rection and gently shove him on to the bed, climbing on top of him. He sits awkwardly under you, gripping the sheets from a mix of surprise and embarrassment. You chuckle at his reaction before whispering the simple word:

"relax"

He almost instantly does, the sound of your voice always making him melt. You smile, taking a moment to admire your lover. You slowly move your hands to his shirt and carefully start unbuttoning is top, gently tossing it to the floor. You look up at Vincent, examining his body language: a mix of nervousness, and now lust that he's obviously trying to control.

You smirk and gently grab his hands, placing them on your waist. He doesn't instantly latch on, still scared of hurting you.

"Its okay, I trust you" You mutter before slowly pulling off your dress and tossing it to the side along with your bra, leaving you exposed to him. He stares at your body with need, drinking up every ounce of your figure. You grab his hands and bring them up to you chest, his hands perfectly cupping your breasts.

You move your hands to his trousers and slowly unbutton them, looking up at him for approval. He nods. You quickly unzip his pants and pull out his half hard cock. He instinctivly tightens his grip as his body tenses up from your touch, his hnds hardening while holding on to your breats.

You gently stroke his cock a few times, causing him to let out a strangled sigh. You had to admit, he looks cute like this, all flustered. You giggle and kiss his cheek in a teasing manner before slowly lifting yourself up and aligning yourself over his cock.

You give him a reasurring smile before slowly lowering yourself on to his leaking cock. He quickly moves his hands to your hips to stable himself, throwing his head back slightly, letting out a quiet groan.

You always imagined this day, now feeling his cock buried deep inside you bringing it all to fruition. You take a moment to adjust to his size before slowly rolling your hips, causing his grip on your hips to tighten. You start a slow but steady pace, rising and piercing yourself with his thick cock.

You place your hands on Vincent's chest to stable yourself, feeling his chest rise in an erratic manner as you slowly ride him. He melts under your touch. His own hands could never feel this good, no matter how much he tried. His mind is completely blank, fully engrossed in the feeling of your pussy deliciously devouring his cock.

But this is a learning experience, no matter how much you love watching him crumble, this is about him learning how this works.

You take one of his hands from your hip and place it over your clit, gently guiding his hand in rhythmic circles sending a shiver down your spine. "don't stop" You instruct and he happily obliges, trying to bring you as much pleasure as possible.

He gently circles your clit with his calloused fingers as instructed, giving you bursts of pleasure as you impale yourself on his cock. His hand tightens on your hip as a few strangled moans escaped his masked mouth.

You take this as a sign and slowly speed up, moving your hips faster and quickening the pace, his cock hitting every spot just right. Oh its wonderful. Just like how you always pictured.

You give Vincent a gentle kiss on the lips of his mask, you can tell he's getting close. His hips involuntarily thrusting upwards, only adding to your pleasure. But no, this is about him.

"You getting close?" You ask to which he quickly nods, letting out a small moan. You smile, happy he's enjoying himself and helping you. He keeps his hand moving at a steady pace ion your clit, slowly speeding up to copy your pace. "Come on, you're okay, you can come" You say soothingly, gently cupping his face in your free hand.

He groans and thrusts his hips up into you, shooting thick ropes of cum deep into you, coating your gummy walls, He lets out a quiet moan, gently thrusting his hips into you to rid out his high as you move your hips in unison.

Youre soon to follow as Vincent doesnt stop rubbing your clit, milking his cock as you call out his name in a breathy moan. You collapse on to his bare chest, catching your breath and inhaling his scent. God you love it. Your pulled from your thoughts when you feel two gentle hands rest on your back, carefully drawing small patterns on your skin.

You let out a sigh, bliss filling your sweaty and exhausted body. "I love you so much, Vinc" You mutter, slowly lifting your hips so his cock can slip out. He pauses for a moment before slowly lifting your chin between his fingers, resting his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes with a blissful and loving expression, gently caressing your face.

He can't say 'I love you', but no words could describe the look of affection in his eyes.

[mystictf]

A Night To Remember

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

2893 words.

In the heart of Brooklyn during the early 1940s, the world was caught in a tumultuous dance, as nations clashed and destinies were forged in the fires of conflict. Yet, even in such times, life managed to etch out moments of beauty, gentleness, and a burgeoning love. For James Buchanan Barnes - known to his friends as Bucky - and his close friend, you, this story began under the warm, flickering lights of a Brooklyn evening before shadows would lengthen into war.

Bucky Barnes, with his easy smile and affable nature, was the emblem of youthful vigour, a neighbourhood favourite who seemed to carry the sunlight with him. You, on the other hand, were the kind of person whose quiet strength and perceptive eyes often went unnoticed at first, but once seen, left an indelible impression. You and Bucky had known each other for years, your paths crossing in that comfortable rhythm of familiar companionship. But tonight was different - it was a night set apart. The evening began in the hustle and bustle of the Brooklyn streets, just as the shops were dimming their lights and the hum of daily life gave way to the sounds of laughter and music spilling out from neighbourhood doors. Bucky arrived at your modest apartment, a spring of wildflowers clasped in his hand, excitement dancing in his eyes. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Bucky Barnes,” you teased, your eyes shimmering as they met his at the threshold. You had dressed with extra care - perhaps a little self-consciously - choosing a dress that was both modest and flattering, its fabric catching the warm light in a way that enhanced your natural grace. “I could say the same to you,” Bucky grinned, offering the small bouquet with a slightly theatrical bow. “For you, milady.”

You walked together, arms brushing now and then, to a nearby diner. The promise of warmth and good company made your steps light. Seated across from each other in a vinyl booth, you talked with ease as the world outside slowly gave itself over to the evening. Across the table, Bucky leaned in slightly, his voice becoming more earnest. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, “once… once I ship out, I won’t have this. The easy nights, the laughter, the…” He seemed to search for the right words, glancing at you with a vulnerability that was rare to see from him, someone usually so composed. “The people who matter.” You swallowed, your heart catching on the implications of his words. “Bucky, you’ll come back,” you said quietly, but with conviction. “You’ll come back, and we’ll make sure to create a thousand nights like this.” He looked at you intently, his expression softening, “I’d like that.”

With your meal completed, the two of you made your way to the dance hall, the sounds of a live band greeting you as you approached. The hall was alive with people shedding the day’s concerns in favour of song and rhythm - an echo of the relentless hope that pulsed through the city, no matter the storm on the horizon. The band was in full swing, and couples whirled around you both in a joyful blur. Bucky held out his hand, his blue eyes holding a question and a promise. “Dance with me?” You nodded, smiling, placing your hand in his. You both joined the throng on the polished wooden floor, the music washing over you like a buoyant wave. Bucky was a natural dancer, his movements sure and graceful, and together, you found an easy rhythm, an unspoken language. The world faded, leaving only the music and the two of you. Bucky spun you around, your laughter bright and clear as the two of you lost yourselves in the dance. Each step, each turn, became an affirmation of the unspoken bond growing between you - a fragile, beautiful thing nurtured in stolen moments. As the band struck up a slower tune, Bucky drew you closer, your movements slowing into something more intimate. You rested your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to savour the nearness, the warmth of him. “Tell me something,” you breathed, your voice barely carrying over the song. “Something you’ll miss the most.” Bucky was quiet for a moment, as if considering the weight of your present amidst the uncertainty of the future. “This,” he finally said, his voice carrying a subtle, wistful undertone, “dancing with you.” Your heart skipped, warmth blooming in your chest, and you tightened your hold slightly. “When you’re back,” you murmured, “promise me another dance? And maybe a thousand more after.” Bucky pulled back slightly, meeting your eyes with a sincerity that made your heart ache. “I promise.” His words were a gentle vow, a tether to your future. The music faded into the background, less of a presence than a feeling, a texture running through the space around you and binding the two of you together in that moment. As the band played on, time seemed to stretch and condense, suspending you both in a world of your own. The others around you blurred into insignificance, leaving you and Bucky in the centre of a vast, pulsating universe composed solely of shared hopes and unspoken dreams.

Eventually, the music slowed, coming to a close with the gentle hum of the band. Reluctantly, you stepped apart, but something ineffable lingered between you both - a promise of more than just another dance. Outside the dance hall, the evening air was cool against your flushed cheeks, and the stars above twinkled as silent witnesses to your budding romance. Bucky, with his arm companionably around your shoulders, guided you along the sidewalk, neither one of you eager to end the night. “Bucky,” you began softly, your voice a delicate thread against the backdrop of distant city sounds. “I want you to know how much tonight meant to me.” You paused, looking up at him, searching his face as if to imprint the memory into your mind. “It meant the world to me too, Y/N,” he replied, sincerity woven through every word. “You mean the world to me.” You both continued to walk, your hearts buoyed by the evening’s perfect simplicity. Bucky’s thoughts were a mixture of anticipation and a whisper of fear for what was to come. The war was a daunting spectre on the horizon, a reality set to reshape both of your lives - and yet, nestled within it was this single night of joy that spurred him forward.

As you reached your doorstep, the streetlamp above casting a gentle glow around you both, Bucky took a step closer, gathering his courage in the face of the uncertain future. “I won’t say goodbye,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Only ’see you soon’. And I’ll be counting every day till I’m back.” You nodded, your voice steady even as emotion thickened it. “I’ll be waiting and writing letters even if I know you might not get them right away. When you’re far away, read them and remember that there’s someone here thinking about you.” Bucky smiled at that, the notion easing something tense within him. He leaned in then, pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead - an unspoken vow, with the night air as your witness, before drawing back. “I promise I’ll come back,” he said, a determined edge threading through his words. “We’ll have that dance, and many more.” You nodded, offering him a smile filled with all the conviction and hope you could muster. “I’ll hold you to that promise, James Buchanan Barnes.” With one last lingering look, Bucky turned to leave, each step carrying him closer to the departure that awaited. But he left behind something no war could take away - the beginning of something precious, nurtured in the quiet spaces of dance and laughter. 

In the days that followed, as Bucky prepared to ship out, you both held onto the memory of your night together as a keepsake against what was to come. And while the world around you both seemed poised on the brink of irrevocable change, your hearts held firm with the knowledge that love, first kindled in the simplest of evenings and sealed with a dance, was both your anchor and your guiding light home. When the world felt a little less bright, you would turn to those memories, letting the warmth and hope carry you through. And as the echoes of music played in your mind, you knew with certainty as deep as the endless sky that one day, Bucky would return to dance with you once more under the starlit Brooklyn skies. 

The roar of engines filled Bucky’s ears as the transport plane shook with turbulence, flying high above a land so foreign and yet so beautiful under the sweeping vistas of a European sky. This was far from the Brooklyn streets he knew like the back of his hand - a world away from the warmth of home and lingering embrace of you as you shared that bittersweet farewell. Days blurred into weeks, and weeks blurred into months. War had a way of compressing time into a relentless cycle of missions and manoeuvres. Yet, amidst the chaos of conflict and the camaraderie shared with his fellow soldiers, Bucky found solace in the memories of that one perfect night.

When the sky exploded with artillery and the ground trembled under the weight of battle, Bucky closed his eyes for a heartbeat and let the rhythm of a remembered dance guide him through. In quiet moments, when the world seemed impossibly vast and the horizon insurmountable, he would pull your letters from his jacket pocket, smoothing the well-worn paper to read your words by firelight or the flickering beam of a flashlight. Each letter was a lifeline, with words of everyday musings, hopeful reflections, and steadfast affection, giving him strength. He pictured you writing them, your face illuminated by lamplight, and imagined the melody in your voice as you crafted each sentence - a symphony of warmth that accompanied him in the trenches. One night, beneath a canopy of stars that looked remarkably like those above Brooklyn, Bucky lay in his bunk, surrounded by the soft snores of sleeping men. With a letter unfolded in his hands, he traced your handwriting with the tip of his finger. Your latest had told stories of things big and small - the neighbourhood's resilience, your own pursuits, and little notes on the nights you’d spent dancing alone, awaiting his return. He smiled faintly, the edges of his worries dulling with each word. You spoke of a new dance that you had learned, your descriptions vivid enough that he could almost see you twirling around the small space of your living room. “Save that one for me,” he whispered to the empty air, a promise as steady and sure as when you’d last met. “You’ll have to teach me first.”

The duty to return, to keep the promise he made, weighed heavily but encouragingly on his shoulders. It fueled his resolve with each mission, each long march through foreign fields, and each night spent under the open sky. His determination, a silent vow kept alive by the memory of your touch, was more potent than the rationed meals or iron discipline keeping him on his feet. In moments of camaraderie with his fellow soldiers, when quiet confessions were exchanged around impromptu fires, Bucky would speak of you - your last dance, your letters, your plans for the future. His stories painted a tapestry of life beyond the battlefield, a beacon that drew others in with tales of love and hope. And so, as the months wore on and the seasons changed, Bucky moved through the war with a heart anchored by the promise of returning home. Your letters continued to be his guiding star, the constant reminder of all he fought for - the life that you would build together once the world righted itself once more. 

War tested every limit of endurance yet inspired him with a newfound appreciation for life’s cherished moments. The memory of your laughter, the softness of your eyes meeting his, and the dance that played on in his mind with every step kept hope alive in the darkest hours. He knew, deep in his soul, that he had to make it back. For himself, for his brothers-in-arms, and most importantly, for you - the promise of a thousand dances waiting to unfold beneath the Brooklyn sky.

The train's rhythmic clatter over the tracks was a reassuring sound, one that seemed to resonate with the beating of Bucky’s own heart. As the city skyline of New York began to emerge on the horizon, he felt a mix of anticipation and nerves fusing together within him. This was it - the moment he had envisioned and longed for through the countless days and nights overseas. He stepped off the train into a bustling station, the sounds and smells reminding him of all that he had missed: the vibrant hum of life, the familiarity of the everyday lives being lived around him. There was an energy in the air, one that promised healing and new beginnings. Bucky shouldered his pack, its weight now lighter somehow, and made his way through the crowded streets. He wore his uniform, which drew nods of acknowledgement and met old acquaintances who shared similar war-drawn lines on their faces. Yet, despite the shared experiences, all he could focus on was the thought of seeing you again. 

Brooklyn unfolded around him, every corner infused with memory. It was the same yet different - a city that had held its ground as the world changed. Finally, he arrived on your street, flanked by familiar row houses and the leafy trees he remembered so well. With each step, the air felt thicker, charged with emotion. As he approached your building, he paused, taking a moment to steady himself, inhaling deeply. He rolled his shoulders back, smoothing his hair with a hand that trembled slightly. This was a homecoming long overdue - not just to his hometown but to the person who had anchored him through every storm. He knocked, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet evening. Moments stretched infinitely, each second weighted with the anticipation of reconnection. Then, the door opened, and there you were - standing before him, more beautiful than even his most cherished memory. 

For a heartbeat, you both simply looked at one another, absorbing years in the space of a glance. Then, you stepped forward, and before Bucky could even speak, you pulled him into a tight embrace. “Bucky,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around you, the feeling of you more comforting than anything he had imagined. “Y/N,” he replied softly, pulling back slightly to look at you, his eyes sweeping over your features as if imprinting them anew. “I promised I’d come back.” You smiled, that same brilliant smile that had illuminated countless nights for him. “And I knew you would.” You both stood there on the threshold, a connection both delicate and strong knitting you both back together. The unvoiced promise of your shared letters and dreams seemed to hum in the space around you.

Inside, familiar comforts surrounded you both. The apartment was filled with subtle changes and little touches that spoke of your life while he had been gone. You sat together, sharing stories and laughter, filling in the gaps time had etched with renewed warmth and understanding. As the evening wore on, Bucky’s gaze fell on the phonograph in the corner. He smiled, a memory sparking to life. “Remember that dance you promised to teach me?” Your eyes sparkled with mischief and affection. “I hope you’re ready to learn, Buck.” You stood, offering him your hand, which he took with a surness that had grown from your shared past. With gentle elegance, you placed the needle on the record. The room filled with music, and you led him in a dance like no other - you were in sync, moving effortlessly together, the rest of the world fading into insignificance. Bucky followed your lead at first, stepping carefully until the rhythm became part of him, allowing himself to be carried by the moment. You danced through the room, and it was as if every letter, every hope, and every dream that you both shared was manifesting here, now. He twirled you around, your laughter bright and freeing, and in that dance, the weight of distant battlefields began to fall away. Here, with you, he found his peace, his heart beating in time with the pulse of the city outside, resonating with the promise of a future that you would both build together. 

Under the dimmed glow of the room, your movements eventually slowed until Bucky found himself holding you close, allowing the moment to seep into his very bones. Whatever lay ahead, he knew was the beginning - a continuation of the dance that had started long ago beneath a different sky, renewed with hope and the unbreakable bond that you shared. “Here’s to a thousand dances,” Bucky whispered softly, sealing the vow with another promise that would lead you both into your shared tomorrow. And in that quiet embrace, you both found closure and beginning, inextricably interwoven in the warmth of Brooklyn’s gentle night.

[thatdeadaquarius]

That language SAGAU but the Reader can only communicate writing on paper.

Either the Reader is mute and they (characters) don't know/understand sign language or they somehow lost their voices on their transmigration to Teyvat and can only write now. But the characters are left trying to decipher what the Reader wrote.

Examples:

Kaeya: "I may say, that was very unexpected your grace. One such as yourself should be more aware of who you are."

Reader: "wat, y u sayin dat?"

×

Gorou: "Oh, your grace! Careful now. I am most certain that you stepped on something unsightly right now. Let me clean your feet, your grace."

Reader: "r u srs rn? Fml"

Ooooo, this is nice, this is niiccceeee /ref

this would be the energy⬇️

Man I love this show, I gotta finish it (it’s Komi Can’t Communicate for those who want to see it) where she basically is too shy/introverted to speak (non-verbal neurospicy it seems like to me actually lol) and really wants to make friends and do normal things despite not speaking, her main way of communicating is writing (and her first guy friend who can just read her facial/body language really well lmao)!!

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them)

Planet: Headcanons-ish?

Stars: dashes/mention of most characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Reader/”you” are mute/lost their voice, & Trigger Warnings: None Known.

☆

This kinda falls into that post I made abt texting lingo, abt us being nigh incomprehensible when using texting lang. (its basically a code lol)

but i think it’s always neat to see nonverbal rep so here we are (also i think imma go ahead and say it is both selectively mute but also enforced by video game laws!)

u know a good explanation would be for this is actually abt how we technically are only allowed to freely communicate when we’re in chats,

so I could see that still being the only way we can commnicate in Teyvat (look am i little excited abt taking “video game world” a little too literally in every genshin AU ever- maybe.)

tbh i could see so many allogenes having to either learn to make room for you in convos and u also having to get wayyy more expressive in body language/facial expressions

tbh i think itd be pretty easy to get ur meaning, like in a battle or smth fast-paced where u couldnt write, like how Tinker Bell can?

if u dont know what i mean just search “tinkerbell scenes peter pan” on youtube and u can see ppl just having a full conversation with no words with her, which i think would deffo happen with ppl like Kaeya, Lisa, Lumine, Venti, Heizou, Ayato, Yae Miko, Thoma, Beidou and Itto surprisingly i could see it (ppl in the distance just think theyre all talking to themselves sometimes when ur not as visible hehe)

OMG they get u nice gifts for writing all the time, like the newest compact pens from Fontaine, the finest small, medium, and large notebooks from Inazuma,

like a little compact pocketbook so u can easily fit it in pockets!

u know Im absolutely sure you could literally start the texting appreviation trend in Tevyat like this-

like just so it’s easier to communicate with you, a lot of people are willing to adapt/take on abbreviations like “ttyl, gtg, wth, lol, lmao” even stuff like “etc”

lol u start a whole trend in the writing letters business, hehe silly medieval Teyvat is silly and medieval

yknow I think the quieter vision users would definitely find you to be peaceful to be around and easy to understand just with writing (also deffo most likely to adore the soft moments together of just ur pen scribbling and the sounds of nature or a cafe or something around them),

tbh i also think these ppl would be motivated to talk to you alone, or get you away to just talk the two of you for all the reasons above, like Xiao, Aether, Kazuha, Ayaka, Chongyun, Zhongli, Diluc, Sayu, Ei, Sucrose, Eula, Ganyu, Ningguang, Tighnari, Alhaitham omg he might literally be able to take his headphones off around u bc youd be in such quiet spaces all the time, and bc u dont talk he doesn’t have to worry abt u getting loud either lmao

…and then ofc, there’s the bitches that try and guess what ur writing ahead of timeeee 😭

bein all like, “Uh… you.. would like.. to go to… a restaurant… to get some- OH OH I got this one this time! Some pita pockets! …Oh. A drink. Right. Sorry, again.”

definitely Itto, Cyno, Heizou, Xingqiu, Fischl, Amber, Collei, Dehya, Wanderer, Childe, Venti, Keqing (she just used to being fast ok), Kaveh lmao

☆

I hope my reply was a little fun!! THANK U FOR SENDING THIS I LOVE THIS SM!! Man it’s so hard to make you feel my appreciation for this idea thru the damn screen

like how do i send a virtual hug

ANYWAY, if you or anybody else had an idea for celebrating 1000 followers lmk bc i am STRUGGLING with this same issue for that,

like how to make u guys feel my love 😩 ❤️‍🔥

☆

Safe travels ignihideous,

💀♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonderss / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi

[forever-rogue]

“just a few more stitches and you’ll be as good as new.” And “you look like you’ve got something to say” with Joel miller🤭 I just know you’ll do this one justice babes

AN | Thank you so much, my love 🥰I hope you enjoy!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Description of leg injury

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d given people stitches countless times by now. The circumstances surrounding life as it was currently known had you learning how to do stitches from a young age, and by adulthood you were pretty much an expert. But - but - you’d never had any yourself. Surprising, right? Maybe you just weren’t as clumsy as everyone else…or you were just lucky. Either way, there had been no complaints on your part. 

Until now. Suddenly you weren’t feeling so brave as you sat there on edge of Joel Miller’s bathtub as he cleaned the wound on your thigh. Yeah…it had been an interesting series of events that had led to this moment, but here you were. And the cherry on top of it all was that you hadn’t even been doing anything dangerous or scary. All you had done was go on patrol with Joel and gotten snagged on a particularly sharp and jagged rogue tree branch. 

And from there your thigh had been slashed, through your jeans and all. And it hadn’t even hurt - the surprise and shock of the moment had gotten the better of you and the adrenaline kicked in. It was Joel’s reaction that caused you to realize that something had really happened. When you looked down you found a large gash in your jeans and blood flowing down your leg. 

A soft oh was all that escaped your lips before you felt the tears well up and start to run down your cheeks. The pain set in almost immediately and all you wanted to do was curl up and cry and make it go away. Luckily, Joel managed to make it over to you before it all became too much. He always managed to make you feel better and this was no exception. He was at your side and taking your face in his hands to look you over and reassure you that everything would be alright.

And that brought you to your current situation. Needless to say it wasn’t one that you had ever imagined yourself in. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“It’s going to sting a little bit, okay?” he asked softly as he grabbed a clean washcloth and the bottle of rubbing alcohol. You sighed but offered him a small nod as you braced yourself for the pain that you knew was coming. You heard his soft chuckle before he brushed a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “let me know if it hurts too much.”

“I’ll be fine,” you wished your voice didn’t sound so small and scared but of course, you had to make a continual fool out of yourself in front of Joel. It was like the universe just wanted to push you into confessing your crush on him. But…yeah, that was not going to happen. 

"Alright," he popped open the bottle and poured it onto the cloth and you watched intently as he cleaned the area around the wound before moving onto the gash itself. Joel watched your face as he tried to gauge your pain level. It was a biting sting, no doubt due to how deep the cut was, but you tried to hide it as best as you could. You bit the inside of your cheek so hard you were surprised you didn't experience the coppery taste of blood in your mouth, "its alright, baby. I'm almost done."

You closed your eyes and nodded, but Joel was one step ahead of you, his hand already on your cheek in order to comfort you. He gently shushed you, and as if he possessed some kind of magic power, the pain seemed to dissipate slightly. 

"Is it over?" Your question came out more like a whimper than anything else. You peeked an eye open at him, and found him watching you with a gentle expression.

"Mhmm," he removed the rag and tossed it into the sink. You could feel him scrutinizing your leg; he'd had enough of his own injuries to know more or less what was going on, "can you do me a favor, sweetheart?"

"Of course."

"Take off your pants please," his eyes pinked as he could barely meet your face. You felt like you were burning up immediately and found it impossible to say anything, "I just…you need some stitches. This cut is pretty deep."

"Stitches?" You squeaked out as he grimaced with nodded in the affirmative. After exhaling deeply, you nodded, "yes, o-of course."

Joel took a step back and gave you some space, turning around in order to keep from losing his mind. If he was an honest man, and he was for the most part, he would admit that he'd thought of this moment so many times. Not the whole 'taking care of your injury' thing but the whole 'getting to see you undress' thing. In his mind it was usually a more romantic thing. But this…well. His main concern was getting you taken care of.

"Okay," your voice sounded so small as he turned around to find you sitting there in just your oversized t-shirt and pale pink lace underwear. At least you'd worn some cute panties, "w-will it be okay?"

"Yes," he promised as he tried to focus on the injury rather than the soft skin of your legs. The edges were red and angry, but he knew once everything stitched up and kept clean it would be alright, "you trust me enough to do this?"

"I think you're the only one I'd trust to do this," you confessed gently, causing Joel to hesitate for a moment. You could see the corners of his mouth quirk up, "will it hurt?"

"Yes," you could tell that he hated admitting that it would cause you any sort of pain, "it'll hurt a little bit. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you watched as he grabbed the clean needle and thread. Funny how a home patch job these days had become so normal. When he was ready his fingers danced around your soft skin, "go ahead. The sooner you do it, the sooner it's done."

"If it hurts too much let me know," you nodded and turned your head away. You hoped that by looking to the side you could convince your mind that nothing bad was happening. But as soon as you felt the prick and slide of the needle entered your skin, your body tensed up and a hiss escaped your lips. Joel made a small sound of reassurance, "I know, baby, I know."

You were holding the edge of the tub so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. Joel tried to make it as painless as possible but you were so on edge that you were sure you could feel every little movement, "does it always feel like that? Or am I just a huge baby?"

You hoped that humor would help and tried to focus on the fact that Joel - Joel! - was touching you. You heard him inhale and exhale sharply, a stunted laughter of sorts before he adopted a softer tone, "just a few more stitches and you'll be good as new. You're doing so well."

"I'm acting like a little bitch," you blinked back your tears, laughing ever so slightly, "you don't have to lie."

"I'm not lying," he promised as made a few more movements before stopping, "and now you're all done."

"All done?"

"Yup," He cut the thread and covered up the wound before you could take too close of a look and worry again, "and you took it like a champ."

"Thank you," the pout on your lips was so pathetic and cute at the same time that he was sorely tempted to kiss it away, "it'll be okay?"

"It'll be okay," he taped up the edges of the gauze before moving to stand back up, "I'll check on it again tomorrow."

"You don't have to-"

"It's not up for debate, sweetheart," he was busy washing his hands so he didn't see the ways your eyes widened in response. Your whole body felt like it was on fire.

He looked up in the mirror and caught your eye, offering you a half smile. You returned it the best you could before slowly trying to stand up to put your pants back on. Joel beat you to it, reaching for your hands and gingerly hoisting you to your feet. 

He handed you your pants holding out his arm to you in order to keep you balanced all while pointedly keeling his gaze shifted away.  

"Thank you," you pulled the zipper up and buttoned the jeans, trying to ignore the big hole where the bandage was now peaking out from. You were going to throw then away as soon as you got home, hoping the memory of the injury as well, "for everything."

"Nothing to thank me for," he insisted, "are you going to be okay going home?"

"Considering I live a few houses down I think I'll manage," you managed to tease him in response and that brought a grin to his face, "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow," he promised, "and if you need anything before then-"

"I won't hesitate to ask."

"Good girl."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the next afternoon you hadn't heard from Joel. You were ready to write it off as him being busy, but a small part of you was disappointed as well. Admittedly you did want to see him, even if it wasn't under the best of circumstances.

Just when you'd given up on him, you heard a knocking at your door before it slowly opened, "hello?"

"Joel?" You nearly tripped over your own feet as you almost ran down the stairs.

"Yeah," he made his way over to the bottom of the stairs, smiling lightly as you came down, "easy there, don't want to go and hurt yourself more."

"Sorry," you hopped off the bottom step and looked up at him, trying to keep your composure, "just, I- um. Hi."

"Hi," he took a step back and motioned for you to follow him to the kitchen. He'd been over to your house so many times by now and knew his way around but at the same there was something undeniably sexy about the way he took charge, "c'mon, let me take a look at you."

"Its fine," you promised softly, "really."

"Again, it wasn't a question," he pulled out the chair and you sat down without further hesitation or comment, "how are you feeling?"

"Fine," you promised, glad you wore shorts today and didn't have to pull down your pants in front of him again. He washed his hands before crouching down at your side and slowly removing the bandaging he had so gently applied. You must have made a small sound at the pressure because he stopped immediately and looked up at you with worry, "sorry, it's okay. Preemptively preparing for pain."

He chuckled in response as he finished removing the bandage and appraising his handiwork. You tried to watch his face for any sign that it wasn't okay but quickly got lost as you studied his features instead, "its looking good. It'll be sore for a few days but it'll be just fine."

“Promise?” the question slipped out before you could even really process it. It was more of an internal ponderance but when he gave your hand a squeeze, you relaxed. He looked at you, warm brown eyes staring into your eyes as thought he could see deep inside your soul. The look was so intense that you wanted you to look away,but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

“I swear it,” his voice was a raspy whisper that sent shivers running up and down your spine. You wondered if he could hear how fast your heart was beating or feel the way gooseflesh erupted all over your skin. Almost as if he could sense your thoughts, he reached up and touched your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “you look like you’ve got something to say.”

“I-I…” you paused for a moment, opening and closing your mouth a few times, in search of the right words, “umm, I don’t know if you want me to hear it.”

“I’d love to hear anything you ever have to say,” and you knew that he meant it. Joel Miller would never lie to you. Your eyes darted to his lips and you couldn’t help the way your mouth ran dry. You’d always been attracted to him - it wasn’t just the fact that he was incredibly handsome, it was also that he was so kind and caring (even if he never admitted it), and smart, and giving. He had a lot of admirable qualities even if he didn’t believe that or acknowledge it. You’d gladly remind him of that every day if you had, “I was just…I was thinking about how handsome you are. And that I’d really like to kiss you.”

“You sure about that?” his cheeks flushed slightly as you nodded gently, “that’s funny because I was just thinking the same thing.”

“You were thinking about how handsome you are?” you joked causing him to snort as he sighed at you with nothing short of affection.

“Very funny,” in a gentle movement, he took your face gently in his hands and made sure you were looking at him. Your own gaze in response was wide-eyed and innocent at the sudden gesture, “let me ask you again, are you sure about that?”

“Uh huh,” you choke dout but you knew he wasn’t going to take that as an actual answer, “y-yes, I’m sure.”

“May I?” you nodded, instantly knowing where his mind was going. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, something so soft and gentle that it was almost nothing more than a ghost of a kiss. And yet - it felt so utterly perfect. 

When he pulled back, looking at you curiously to make sure he hadn’t accidentally crossed any boundaries. When he realized you were beaming at him, he relaxed and leaned in to kiss you again, this time with more urgency and fervor. 

The two of you only broke apart when you needed a breath of air and Joel pressed gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks before stopping at your lips. 

“Are you still sure?” if you didn’t know any better you would almost think that he sounded nervous. 

“Positive,” your reassurance allowed him to relax, “in fact, I’m so sure that you could do that anytime you want.”

“Is that so?” 

“Mhmm,” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze, “but seriously, thank you Joel. For taking care of me.”

“You know I’d do anything for you,” and yeah. You knew that was true, and you loved that, among so many other things about him.

“I’d do anything for you too, Joel,” he smiled bashfully in response and you might have fallen a little more for him.

“I know,” this time it was your turn to kiss him. 

And kiss you did, until it was the only thing that either of you thought about. 

Maybe the leg injury wasn’t the worst thing in the world.