#its mentioned but u can never be too sure
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luv-beam · 18 hours ago
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HI TARA!!! my thoughts while reading are under the cut :'))) but i gotta say that i fall in love w ur writing every time i read something from u:
• i would like to start off w the fact that u set the scene so incredibly well, like im in awe and envy at this beautiful scene ur painting for us 😭 not to mention that it all flows really well too; just a strong opening paragraph
• awwwh PLS THE BIG BROTHER LITTLE SISTER DYNAMIC!!! when the little sis thinks the absolute world of her big bro :'))) and when she's even more mad than he is LMAO the TOAD LINE??? damn seokmin i was not aware of ur game
• lowkey i would have folded that fast too if duke lee seokmin of lancaster played along and kissed my hand
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• this starting line ^ crazy good... like i'd like to sear this into my mind so i never forget it?? the social szn unfolds like a delicate fan??? adding another layer to the tapestry of ur life??? lee seokmin????
• HE HAS AN UNCANNY ABILITY TO ELEVATE THE ORDINARY UGHHHHH WHAAAAT A LINE i love that so, so much and it's so true as well
• awwwh yn and seokhao's goodbyes are so sweet :'')))) im so glad they all hold so much affection for one another
• "your penchant for wool is far more than my eyes could bear" im cryingksnfkdnjf seokmin sulking over the wool while he's away,, sometimes i like to imagine him as a damsel draping himself out of the window sill of a tower
• i love how yn describes herself feeling empty while hes away like heh... i know something u dont... heh :))))) and crocheting? me too!!! so cute that she made him smth
• TARA U R A MASTER AT IMAGERY!! the opening lines of age 15 are mwah chefs kiss like if i could draw/paint, i would literally turn this fic into a graphic novel for u
• tulip... brb while i burst into tears
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• started grinning like an idiot while reading this ^ i can see his playful melodrama and the smile on his face,,, im so down bad like i would fold like a lawn chair if we played around like this irl (i say as a grown ass woman)
• oh how i do love the classic brushing of the limbs that gets the mcs blushing like hell... also love what u did there w the planting seeds in ur mind to decode later while they're literally planting flowers... i see u tara u genius
• oh wow the total 180 w the reveal of the duke's death (also seokmin addressing her as my dearest tulip TT) — thinking of seokmin entering the social szn as a recently-made duke and all the girls hounding after him in his fresh grief......
• this section (seok and hao just got back after the death reveal) is short but so bittersweet. like when u give seok the swords from the flower bed and he just kind of chuckles like yes... days gone by huh... UGH
• it breaks my heart to know that seokhao now have their dead fathers as something in common 😭😭😭 its sweet tho to know they're all looking out for each other. im w yn tho, i hope hers and haos relationship isnt negatively affected by this :'))
• THE RETURN OF THE TAPESTRY METAPHOR
• okay i have to confess something... this is my second time reading thru... and so im reading the part where minghao and yn talk in the garden and he's warning her of the whispers springing up abt her and seok and im like... freaking out bc i KNOW WHAT HAPPENS 😭 IM GNAWING MY FIST LIKE IK THAT HAO'D CONCERN IS SINCERE AND IM JUST SJFNKENFKFJF THIS SCENE HOLDS SO MUCH MORE WEIGHT DURING A REREAD (why i love comparing my thoughts btwn a first and second read tho, like u see things /differently/)
• i love the teasing and sweet assurances in the letters 😭 like they're so genuine and cute (rip minghao)
• AHHHHH THE SMOKING SCENE FROM SZN ONEEEE i like this change of dynamic tho instead of being btwn siblings, it's now btwn two love interests friends
• WE CANT ALWAYS HAVE WHAT OUR HEARTS DESIRE???? WHILE LOOKING AT US LIKE THAT LEE SEOKMIN????????? HHEHDJDJFJFJKFKFK
• sure sure fencing BUT YEARNING TO FIND LOVE?? BUT MY DEAR SIR?? YOUR GRACE, YOUR LOVE IS RIGHT NEXT TO U
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• THE LONGING AND ASPECT OF THE FORBIDDEN MAKES THE SMALL DISTANCE BTWN U YAWN LIKE A CHASM AHHHH THIS PASSAGE!!!! like oof... i love angst and yearning like this, where im screaming at my phone screen to just kiss her already (knowing the... perilous journey ahead... heh...)
• friend.... FRIEND???? brb gonna go waltz into oncoming traffic
• oh the way this ends 😭😭😭 like my heart is being squeezed,,, the way he whispers tulip and the roots of ur love for him take hold UGGGHH!!! I CANT DO THIS
i will have to endure for another day tho and i will return for chapter two tmrw! i loved this even more than the first time i read it (and i loved it a lot then too)!! i was really able to sit w ur words this time, and i do have to say tara that u have such a talent for imagery, like omg this was so beautiful TT but thank u for writing this!! hope ur having a lovely day/night and i'll be back o7 💖
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The Somerset Affair | Chapter 1: Whispers in the Garden
pairing: lsk x fem!reader genre: Bridgerton AU, friends to (?????) to eventual lovers, brother’s best friend, SLOWWWW BURNNN chapter wc: 8.2k warnings: alcohol consumption, societal expectations, eventual smut, more to be added a/n: CHAPTER 1 IS FINALLY HEREEEE // as always, ENORMOUS thanks to indi @wongyuseokie for this GORGEOUSSSS banner // and to my lovely betas shu @welcometomyoasis lou @tusswrites haneul @chanranghaeys this could not have happened without you // 2nd chapter will be up soon!!!
summary: lee seokmin is a scoundrel for having beaten your brother at fencing. or... is he?
comment to be tagged when chapters are posted, or join the fic taglist here!
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Age 8
Mayfair is alive today. The Somerset estate hums with energy, a ripple of excitement passing through the gathered crowd, their eyes all fixed on the fencing match taking place in the wide, manicured garden. The afternoon sun casts a golden haze over the scene, warming the air and wrapping everything in a soft, honeyed glow. Laughter and chatter float like music across the grounds, underscored by the occasional ring of steel clashing against steel. The sweet fragrance of roses drifts on the light breeze, mingling with the fresh scent of cut grass. You sit near the front, your small hands gripping the edge of your chair, bouncing with excitement as you watch your older brother, Minghao, spar against a boy you've never seen before.
This new boy stands tall, his dark hair tousled in the breeze, and a sharp determination shines in his eyes. The way he moves—it’s confident, with an energy that seems far beyond his years. Your brother, usually so self-assured, falters as the boy steps onto the mat. A flicker of unease passes through you, twisting in your stomach. You can feel the tension, see it in the way Minghao adjusts his grip on his sword. The match begins, and every time the swords collide, the sound reverberates through your chest. Your heart sinks a little more with each point your brother loses, and soon, the inevitable happens—the newcomer disarms Minghao with a flourish so smooth it draws gasps and murmurs from the audience.
"Such skill!" someone whispers, while others erupt in applause, their cheers filling the air. But you remain still, arms crossed tightly over your chest, brows drawn into a deep frown. How dare this boy defeat your brother? And so effortlessly! You want to scowl, to hold on to your anger, but the sound of the crowd’s cheers washes over you, making your resentment grow.
Seokmin—that’s his name, you overhear—steps forward, offering Minghao a hand, his smile wide and bright like the afternoon sun. "A splendid match, my lord," he says, his voice rich and full of youthful pride. "I must confess, I didn’t expect to come away unscathed!"
You narrow your eyes, watching as your brother, ever gracious, accepts the handshake. There's a mixture of admiration and annoyance in his expression, a good-natured acknowledgment of defeat. They exchange lighthearted jests, their laughter mixing with the lingering applause. But you? You're fuming. This boy, with his easy smile and seemingly endless charm, had just bested your brother, and you feel a burning need to dislike him for it.
Then, as if sensing your discontent, Seokmin turns to you, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Ah, you must be Lord Minghao’s sister?” he says, his grin widening into something playful, teasing. “Goodness, you make him look like a toad by comparison!”
Your mouth drops open in shock, a wave of indignation rushing through you. How dare he say such a thing? And worse—how could your brother laugh?  "I beg your pardon?" you snap, standing as tall as your small frame will allow, arms crossing even tighter across your chest.
"Oh, I mean no offense, miss," Seokmin chuckles, clapping Minghao on the shoulder. "I jest, of course! Merely saying that you’re far lovelier than your brother—though, admittedly, it’s not a particularly high bar."
Despite yourself, your scowl begins to soften. There’s something about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, the lightness in his voice. It’s hard to stay angry when he looks at you like that, as if daring you to join in on the joke.
“Mama says men who try to charm without revealing their titles aren’t to be trusted,” you counter, lifting your chin with defiant pride. The quip comes out sharper than intended, but you’re determined not to let him get the better of you.
Minghao gasps, hands raised in mock horror. “Sister, truly, must you always speak so boldly?” He turns to Seokmin with an exaggerated sigh. “Please Seokmin, do forgive her. I assure you, turning eight has done little to improve her temperament.”
“You’re only two years older than me, brother!” you huff, your voice a touch more indignant. Before you can continue, though, Seokmin drops into a low, dramatic bow, the movement exaggerated and theatrical.
“The fault is entirely mine, my lady,” he says in mock seriousness, rising and extending his hand toward you. “Lord Lee Seokmin, future Duke of Lancaster. At your service.”
Two years of etiquette lessons flood your mind, and with a sudden burst of excitement, you place your small hand in his. Seokmin bows once more, this time dropping a playful kiss on your knuckles as you curtsy. You can hear Minghao’s exasperated sigh as he rolls his eyes, but you ignore him, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
Maybe Seokmin isn't such a scoundrel after all.
As the day wears on, you find yourself watching Seokmin from the corner of your eye. Despite your earlier indignation, there’s something undeniably captivating about him. You notice the way he treats everyone with kindness, far beyond what’s expected from someone his age. When a younger child stumbles near the fencing ring, it’s Seokmin who rushes to their side, kneeling in the dirt, his voice gentle as he asks, "Are you alright?" He helps the child up, brushing off their clothes with such care, you can’t help but be touched. "Fear not," he says, a smile returning to his face, "you’re not a toad—you’re a knight in training!"
The sight makes your heart soften further. How could someone so infuriating also be so kind? The lines of irritation you had drawn between you and Seokmin begin to blur, shifting into something more like curiosity.
As the sun sinks low, casting a warm amber glow over the estate, you find yourself gravitating closer to where Seokmin and Minghao stand, their voices rising and falling in animated conversation about fencing techniques. Seokmin’s laughter, bright and carefree, fills the air like music, and before you know it, you’re smiling too; there’s something undeniably magnetic about him.
Despite your best efforts, you can no longer deny the strange fluttering in your chest—a curiosity, perhaps even fascination, that you hadn’t expected. Maybe, just maybe, Seokmin isn’t such a scoundrel after all.
The days of the social season unfold like a delicate fan, each gathering adding another layer to the tapestry of your life, and with every event, Seokmin becomes a constant presence. He is no longer just an occasional guest—he’s a breath of fresh air, his laughter ringing through the halls of your family’s estate, turning even the dullest moments into something lively and bright.
The lively soirées your parents host become a stage for his effortless charm. Ladies in the latest fashions exchange flirtatious glances in his direction, while gentlemen engage in animated debates about politics and sport, the buzz of conversation always punctuated by Seokmin’s easy laughter. His presence transforms these gatherings, turning what once felt like routine social maneuvering into vibrant affairs filled with warmth and genuine joy.
Whether he’s lending a hand to your mother in the garden, his sleeves rolled up and face relaxed in concentration, or sparring with your brother in a friendly match, Seokmin has this uncanny ability to elevate the ordinary. What might be a simple afternoon stroll or an idle conversation becomes a moment of significance when he’s around. Sun-drenched afternoons spent wandering the estate take on a new glow, each moment painted with the sound of his voice, the infectious energy he brings.
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Age 14
The day Minghao and Seokmin leave for Eton is etched in your mind with vivid clarity, every detail sharp and impossible to forget. The morning is cool, yet the sun spills across the courtyard in golden rays, casting long shadows from the trees that sway gently in the breeze. The scent of dew-laden grass mixes with the faint perfume of your mother’s rose garden, but even the beauty of the estate feels muted by the melancholy lingering in the air.
Minghao, ever composed, stands with the straight posture expected of him, his hands clasped behind his back, looking every inch the young man ready to step into his responsibilities. His face, though calm, carries the weight of leaving home, but he hides it well, his eyes betraying only a flicker of the emotions swirling beneath the surface.
Seokmin, on the other hand, struggles more visibly with the impending farewell. His usual cheerful grin falters, the lightness of his presence dimmed as he glances between you and Minghao. He tries to keep up his usual charm, cracking jokes that feel just a little too forced, his laughter not ringing as true as it normally does. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, a softness you haven’t seen before, as if he’s trying to hide his own sadness behind that well-worn mask of joviality.
As they load their trunks into the carriage, a heavy knot forms in your chest. You know you’ll miss your brother, but it’s Seokmin’s departure that stings deeper. He’s been more than a friend these past years—he’s been a constant, a steady warmth you’ve come to rely on. His laughter, his easy charm, the way he could turn even the most mundane day into something special. The thought of him being gone, of not seeing him wander the estate with his boundless energy, makes your heart ache in a way you didn’t anticipate.
You step forward, your fingers trembling as you reach for Seokmin’s hand, your grip tighter than intended. “Promise me you’ll write?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper, each word trembling with the effort to hold back tears.
Seokmin’s eyes soften as he looks down at you, his usual grin giving way to something gentler. "Of course," he says, his voice steady but quieter than usual. He squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture meant to comfort. “I’ll make sure you get the best letters—no boring stories, only adventures, I swear.” His grin returns, albeit a little weaker. "Besides, my lady, your brother and I will be back to torment you again come springtime!"
Minghao coughs politely. “No tearful goodbye for me, sister?”  he asks, his voice teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of affection in his words. His eyes flicker between you and Seokmin, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, though his posture remains upright and composed as ever.
You tear your gaze from Seokmin and offer your brother a watery smile. “Do not fret, dear brother,” you say, a bit of your usual wit returning. “I’ll save the tears for later, when the house is quiet without the two of you causing chaos.”
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My Dearest Y/N,
I trust this letter finds you in fine spirits, though I daresay it is far more likely that you are wrapped in the cozy embrace of your favorite blanket, lost in a book, while the world outside continues on its merry way. I cannot help but smile at the thought, for you have always possessed the rare gift of finding joy in the mundane. 
Eton is quite a spectacle, I must confess. The architecture is enough to make one feel as though they have stepped into a storybook. However, I must admit my fellow classmates lack the charm and wit of my beloved friend.
Oh, how I miss our little chats! It is a curious sensation to feel so far from home, yet I am bolstered by the knowledge that you are there, keeping our little world intact. Do tell me that you have not yet taken up knitting—your penchant for wool is far more than my eyes can bear. 
Yours most fondly,Seokmin
My Dearest Seokmin,
Eton sounds positively enchanting.I must admit, the thought of you amidst all that grandeur brings me no small measure of joy—though I do hope you have not yet been swept away by the grandeur of it all! I find it impossible to imagine anyone there being quite as dashing as you.
Life here, as you suspected, is a touch quieter without your vivacious presence. I feel compelled to admit that I found myself rather melancholic the day you left. It was a curious sadness, one that clung to me like a shadow. The house feels a touch emptier, and while I do find solace in my books, nothing compares to the ease of our conversations. The warmth of your laughter is a melody I find myself longing for, especially on the coldest evenings.
Do keep writing, dear friend. Your tales from Eton are the very lifeblood of my days, and I shall regale you with the ongoing drama of our little realm. Until then, consider me your most devoted fan, ever eager for your next missive.
With all my affection,Y/N
P.S. You will take great pleasure in knowing that I have, in fact, taken up crocheting. A lovely cap, perfect for early springtime chill, awaits you at the estate. 
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Age 15:
Seokmin’s return each spring is as reliable as the first crocus peeking through the thawing earth, marking the true end of winter. His arrival is never just an event—it’s a burst of life that sweeps away the dullness left by the cold months. Every year, your excitement bubbles over as you anticipate that familiar moment when the world feels a little brighter with his return. The sunlight bathes the garden in warmth, a golden hue spreading like liquid over the well-trodden path he walks down, Minghao beside him. Their laughter floats through the air, a melody that harmonizes with the soft rustle of blooming flowers and the hum of spring.
When they finally come into view, your heart quickens, as if drawn into the rhythm of their steps. With Minghao’s ever-amiable grin and Seokmin’s radiant energy, they are a pair that seems to make the world tilt just a little toward joy. Every spring, it's the same—they stride toward you as if no time has passed, as if the long months apart were nothing but a brief blink in the grander scheme of your lives. And each time, the three of you fall into the same routines as though nothing has changed.
It usually begins with some mischief. They never fail to poke fun at you until you’re red-faced with exasperation. Seokmin, with that teasing glint in his eyes, will say something absurd or playfully condescending, and Minghao, ever the instigator, will back him up with a sly smirk. It’s only a matter of time before you lose your patience, yell, and stomp your foot, your protests ringing louder than you’d intended.
Your raised voice inevitably draws the attention of your mother, who reprimands you from the kitchen window with her usual fond disapproval. "Now, now," she’ll chide, a soft laugh hidden in her voice. "There’s no need to shout, dear. They’re only playing."
Of course, that’s the cue for Seokmin and Minghao to burst into laughter, doubling over in amusement at how easily they’ve ruffled your feathers. You scowl at them, but it’s hard to keep a frown on your face when they’re both so gleeful, their joy infectious, lighting up the entire garden.
One afternoon, not long after their return, Seokmin and Minghao find their old practice fencing swords—long forgotten and buried deep in the flowerbeds, peeking out from beneath the tulips. You watch as they unearth the swords with a mixture of surprise and amusement, both of them laughing as if uncovering a treasure trove of memories. Their faces are bright with nostalgia as they pull the dirt-encrusted weapons free, brushing off the petals clinging to the blades.
It's then that Seokmin starts to call you "Tulip," a private little nickname he utters only when it's just the two of you. The first time he says it, there’s a lightness to his tone, his lips curling into that mischievous smile of his. “You know,” he says, leaning in closer as you both watch Minghao attempt a ridiculous fencing stance in the distance, “it only makes sense. After all, you’ve been hiding our swords with the tulips. I think ‘Tulip’ suits you.”
At first, you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance, but there’s a warmth in your chest at how easily he’s assigned you such a tender nickname. 
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One particularly warm afternoon, your mother summons you to help her with the flowerbeds, a chore you reluctantly take on. The sun beats down, the heat pressing into your skin and the earth beneath your fingers, while the scent of soil and fresh blossoms hangs thick in the air. You sigh, resigning yourself to the tedious task when, suddenly, a familiar voice cuts through the stillness.
“Ah, the fair lady in her noble endeavor!” Seokmin’s voice rings out, full of his usual playful grandeur. He strides through the garden gate, sweeping an imaginary cape behind him with exaggerated flair. His smile is as bright as the sun itself, lighting up the whole space. “Fear not, for I shall be your loyal squire in this quest for botanical beauty!”
Despite your earlier annoyance, a reluctant smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. Seokmin has a way of making even the most mundane tasks feel like an adventure. You watch as he bounds toward you, his movements light and full of energy. With an exaggerated show of determination, he rolls up his sleeves, pretending to prepare for battle. The weight of the day feels lighter already.
Together, the two of you dig your hands into the soil, your fingers dirty and the air filled with the soft rustling of the leaves around you. Laughter bubbles up between the two of you, mingling with the breeze as Seokmin’s animated voice brings life to the still afternoon. As you plant flower after flower, he regales you with tales of his fencing matches at Eton, his voice lively, arms waving dramatically to mimic the grand duels he’s fought.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” he says with mock gravity, “this boy was at least twice my size, and I won the match with nothing but clever footwork and a flick of the wrist!” He pantomimes the move, his arm cutting through the air like a sword.
You laugh, shaking your head at his theatrical retelling, the tension of the task dissolving with every story. It’s impossible not to get caught up in his enthusiasm. “Is that so?” you tease, barely holding back a grin.
“I daresay, footwork in fencing is quite the advantageous skill,” Seokmin says, dropping to his knees beside you with faux-seriousness, inspecting the flowerbed as though it holds the secrets to the universe. “If one can move with the grace of a dancer, one can—”
Just as he gestures again, his elbow brushes against your arm, and suddenly, time seems to slow. The lighthearted atmosphere is pierced by a spark, a ripple of warmth that travels through you. Both of you freeze, his eyes widening in surprise. His cheeks flush a light pink as he quickly pulls back, his confidence faltering for a brief second.
“My sincerest apologies,” he stammers, the usual brightness in his voice now tinged with uncharacteristic bashfulness. He resumes his work, his fingers trembling slightly as they sift through the soil. The warmth of the sun suddenly pales in comparison to the heat between you.
“It’s quite all right,” you reply, your voice shaky, your heartbeat far more rapid than you’d like. “Just... gardening, after all.” You try for casualness, but the words sound ridiculous even to your own ears, given the charged air lingering between you.
Moments later, you stand to stretch, hoping to shake off the strange energy that has settled over the both of you. Seokmin leans in to grab a nearby tool, and his shoulder brushes against yours again—this time, the contact lingers for just a second too long. The heat of it sends another jolt through you, making your heart stutter.
You gasp, startled by the unfamiliar sensation, your breath hitching. The warmth spreads from your chest down to your fingertips, a strange, foreign feeling you can’t quite name.
“Goodness! I beg your pardon again,” Seokmin says quickly, his sheepish smile returning, though this time it’s softer, more hesitant. His eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place. “It seems I have a propensity for unintentional collisions today.”
That smile—it makes your chest tighten. His presence, usually a source of comfort, now awakens something new within you, something unsettling yet undeniable. Gardening, once nothing but a mundane chore, has transformed into something far more intimate with Seokmin by your side. The flowerbeds seem to flourish under his laughter, vibrant blooms swaying as if they, too, revel in the joy of the moment.
But that foreign sensation? You tuck it deep into your mind, burying it along with the seeds you’ve planted, afraid to decode what it could mean. After all, this is Seokmin—your friend, your constant. And yet, the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin longer than it should, as if it’s quietly asking you to look closer.
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My Dearest Seokmin,
I hope this letter finds you in moments of solace amidst the tumult of your recent loss. It is with a heavy heart that I pen these words, having heard of your father’s passing. The news struck me with such a weight, as though the very air around me had grown thick with sorrow. I cannot begin to fathom the grief you must be experiencing, yet please know that my thoughts and prayers are ever with you during this difficult time.
Your father was a remarkable man, a beacon of kindness and integrity, and his absence will undoubtedly leave a profound void in the hearts of all who had the privilege of knowing him. I remember fondly the stories you shared, of his wisdom and warmth, which have clearly shaped the exceptional person you have become. His legacy, I have no doubt, will endure through you.
With his passing, I know you now bear the title of Duke. While this new responsibility may feel daunting, I have every confidence you will honor his legacy with the same grace and strength he embodied. I want you to remember that you are not alone. I am here, dear friend, steadfast and unwavering, ready to support you as you navigate this uncharted territory.
I eagerly await the day when I can see your smile again, and we can talk about the flowers in the garden, just as we always have.
With all my love and deepest sympathies,Y/N
My Dearest Tulip,
Your letter brought me a flicker of light amidst the shadows that have enveloped me since my father’s passing. It is a solace to know that you, too, share in my grief, and your words resonate deeply within me, reminding me that I am not alone in this turbulent sea of sorrow.
Thank you for your kind remembrance of my father. He often spoke of you with such fondness, and knowing how he impacted your life brings me a measure of comfort. His lessons of kindness and integrity remain etched in my heart, and I strive to honor his legacy in every decision I make as Duke. It is a weight I carry with both pride and trepidation, yet the knowledge of your unwavering support gives me strength.
Though this season feels uncharted and daunting, your friendship is a cherished constant. I, too, long for the day when we can stroll through the gardens, exchanging thoughts about the flowers and sharing laughter, just as we once did. Until then, I will hold onto the warmth of your words and the memories we’ve created.
With heartfelt gratitude and affection,Seokmin
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Age 16: 
When Seokmin and Minghao return home the next spring, it’s clear that Seokmin carries more than just the usual joy and liveliness he always brings with him. A new weight settles over him, one you haven’t seen before. The responsibility of the Dukedom starts to bear down on him, heavy as the cloak he will one day wear. His laugh remains bright, his smile still warm, but there’s something different now—an unspoken awareness that the carefree boy of the past is slowly giving way to the man he is becoming.
He has grown taller, his limbs long and strong, and the way he carries himself now commands attention. The once-boyish face is now defined, the angle of his jaw sharper, while his arms, corded with muscles, show the signs of hard work and training. It’s as if each inch he’s gained has come with a newfound strength, and when he meets your gaze, his eyes hold a certain seriousness, as if he is seeing everything with a fresh perspective.
The easy rhythm of your old routines stays intact—Minghao teasing you until you yell, Seokmin’s booming laughter echoing across the fields, and the reprimands from your mother when your playful shouts interrupt her afternoon peace. It all feels the same, yet beneath it all, you know things are changing.
On one such afternoon, you discover their practice swords—once lost and forgotten—buried haphazardly in the flowerbed among your mother’s beloved tulips. You pull them free with a gasp, the soil still clinging to the metal, and when you bring them to Seokmin, he chuckles, the sound a little sadder than you remember.
“Well,” he says, wiping the dirt from the hilt, “seems like even the tulips want to keep us from growing up too fast, eh, Tulip?”
Despite the weight of responsibility that now shadows him, he still calls you “Tulip.” The name slips easily from his lips, playful and tender, a thread that ties your past to the present. The quiet nickname carries the bittersweet truth: your days of carefree adventures and playful banter are slowly fading, giving way to the responsibilities of adulthood. And while the world around you shifts, that name—whispered in secret—feels like a promise that some part of him, some part of both of you, will always stay the same.
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My dearest Tulip, 
It is with a heart full of sorrow that I write to you, upon receiving the most distressing news regarding your father’s passing. The world seems dimmer without him, and my thoughts are consumed with the weight of your grief. I wish I could be there, to hold your hand and share in the memories of a man who undoubtedly brought so much light into your life.
When the silence envelops you, when the days stretch long and heavy with unshed tears, know that I am here for you. You need not wear a mask of strength; I shall not expect it. Life has a way of changing in an instant, and though we are thrust into roles we may not be prepared for, there remains solace in companionship.
Please remember, my dear friend, you are not alone in this journey. I stand with you, ready to lend my support and share in whatever you need.
With the utmost affection,Seokmin
My dearest Seokmin, 
Your letter reached me at a time when silence has settled heavily over the estate, wrapping around us like a shroud. It feels as though the laughter that once danced through these halls has been swallowed by a void, leaving behind a hushed emptiness. My mother, once so vibrant, now moves about with an air of resignation, her spirit dimmed as if she carries the weight of the world upon her shoulders. The joy that once bloomed within her seems to have withered, and even the flowers in the garden appear to droop, their colors muted in sympathy for our grief.
I often find myself worrying for Minghao. The new title of duke weighs upon him like a heavy cloak, and I fear that the responsibilities thrust upon him will change him in ways I cannot yet understand. I can only imagine the burden he feels, trying to uphold our father's legacy while grappling with the uncertainties of leadership. It frightens me to think of how this shift may alter our relationship, how he might feel compelled to step into a role that distances him from the brother I’ve always known. I fear I may lose him just as I have lost my father.
Yet, amid this uncertainty, your words bring me a flicker of comfort. The knowledge that you stand with me during this turbulent time is a balm for my spirit. I long for your return, for the laughter and warmth that you bring.
Until then, I hold your friendship close to my heart, a gentle reminder that even in the darkest of times, I am not alone.
With all my affection,Y/N
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Age 17: 
At the onset of spring, when Minghao and Seokmin return to the estate, the world feels subtly transformed. The air is perfumed with the scent of blooming flowers, yet there’s an unmistakable weight in the atmosphere, a quiet acknowledgment of the changes that accompany their new titles. As dukes, both acquire an aura of responsibility that overshadows the playful ease they once share.
The lighthearted teasing that characterizes your interactions is now less frequent, often replaced by a more thoughtful camaraderie. It’s as though their titles impose a certain decorum upon them, one that even the most mischievous of spirits cannot easily shake off. Their laughter, while still present, bears the faintest echo of seriousness that wasn’t there before.
Yet, despite this change, you find immense joy in their company, particularly when they engage in spirited sparring sessions in the training yard. As wooden swords clash and echo, it’s impossible not to feel a thrill at the sight of them—two young gentlemen, once boys, now embodying a gravity that demands respect even in their play.
The matches become a spectacle, each clash of wooden swords accompanied by shouts and laughter that echo through the estate. You perch on the sidelines, an amused spectator, as Seokmin and Minghao banter playfully between bouts. “You call that a strike?” Seokmin teases, deftly dodging your brother’s advance with a lightness that seems almost effortless. “I’ve seen more ferocity from a kitten!”
Minghao rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth betraying a grin despite his best efforts to maintain an air of dignity. “One day, Seokmin, you shall learn that mocking your opponent is a perilous game.”
You perch on the sidelines, unable to stifle the laughter bubbling forth at their antics. Each exchange between them is a delightful dance, weaving a tapestry of shared history and unspoken affection. Yet, as you watch, you cannot help but feel a twinge of wistfulness; the exuberance of their banter now seems to emerge from a place tinged with nostalgia.
The sun dips low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the training yard; both young gentlemen wield their wooden swords with a fervor that sends a thrill through the onlookers. You remain at a distance, your heart pounding in rhythm with each clash of wood, an exhilaration mingled with unease coursing through you.
Seokmin, with his characteristic bravado, flashes a teasing grin as he engages your brother. “Come now, my lord! Surely you can do better than that!” The laughter in his voice rings like a bell, though you can’t help but feel a knot of apprehension tighten in your chest.
As the match continues, you find yourself transfixed by Seokmin’s agile movements, the way he dances about the training yard with a carefree spirit. However, just as you begin to relax, a delicate butterfly flits past, capturing Seokmin’s attention momentarily. It is in this fleeting distraction that your brother seizes his opportunity, lunging forward with surprising speed.
“Seokmin!” you cry out, the word escaping your lips before you can restrain it. Time seems to elongate as you watch, breathless, as Seokmin turns just in time to evade the wooden sword’s path. He stumbles slightly, regaining his balance as he casts a quick glance your way, surprise etched upon his handsome features.
With your heart racing, you dash to his side, adrenaline coursing through your veins. “Are you quite well?” The urgency in your voice is unmistakable, for the thought of his injury sends a chill through you.
“Indeed, I am unharmed,” he replies, though the forced joviality of his laugh belies the tension of the moment. “Merely caught off guard, I assure you.”
Yet your heart refuses to calm. “You cannot be so reckless! What if you had been injured?” The fervor of your concern envelops you, and you see a flicker of something unspoken in his eyes as he steps closer, the air between you thick with a burgeoning intimacy. That same foreign sensation – the one from years ago when he had brushed against you in the gardens – ignites within you, one you had tucked away and kept hidden, rearing its head in this moment of vulnerability.
“Thank you, Tulip, for your ever-present concern for my well-being,” he murmurs, his voice lowered as he meets your gaze, the world around you fading into an indistinct haze. Just then, Minghao loudly clears his throat, and Seokmin drops his eyes, a bashful blush appearing on the apples of his cheeks.
You step away, embarrassed, your heart pounding against your ribcage.
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Minghao corners you in the gardens that night, the cool summer breeze brushing against your skin as you take a walk, seeking solace from the tempest of thoughts swirling in your mind. The encounter with Seokmin lingers like a gentle whisper, an unsettling mixture of warmth and confusion that dances at the edges of your consciousness, teasing you with emotions you struggle to understand.
“Sister,” he begins, his voice so soft that you nearly startle. In an instant, he presses a hand against your mouth, his finger raised in a quiet plea for silence. “It’s only me, Y/N. I fear you’ll wake the entire estate.”
“It’s your fault for skulking about the gardens like a common thief!” you whisper back, fiercely. “What on earth could possibly require such urgent discussion that you couldn’t grant me one night of peace?”
His expression grows serious, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. “You must be careful, sister,” he admonishes, and in that moment, he seems less like your brother and more like the Duke of Somerset—tall, proud, and formidable. “There are whispers… about you and Seokmin.”
“Whispers? Whatever do you mean?” You search his face for clarification, anxiety bubbling within you.
Minghao shakes his head as if dismissing the very idea of this conversation. A wave of indignation washes over you, eager to burst forth. He may be only two years your elder, yet he still insists on treating you like a child. “Your debut into society draws near,” he continues, his voice measured and resolute. “You mustn’t jeopardize it.”
“But Minghao—” you begin, but he raises a hand, silencing you with a mere gesture.
“Listen. You know how these things unfold. A mere hint of impropriety could tarnish your reputation. I don’t want you to suffer from the kind of gossip that twists the truth.” His tone softens, revealing a hint of genuine concern that pierces through your indignation. “I only want what’s best for you.”
You meet his gaze, the weight of his words pressing down on you. “I am not a child anymore,” you protest, the tremor in your voice betraying a mixture of frustration and uncertainty. “I am capable of making my own choices.”
“Perhaps,” he replies, his eyes steady and unwavering. “But I have a responsibility to protect you, Y/N. I don’t wish to stifle your spirit, but you must grasp the implications of your actions.”
The night air grows thick with unspoken sentiments, and as the stars twinkle overhead like mischievous spectators, you grapple with the tumult in your heart. There’s something about Seokmin that sends ripples of confusion coursing through you, a fluttering sensation that stirs your chest whenever his name crosses your mind. You do not fully comprehend what it is, but it’s undeniably present—a flicker of something more, leaving you teetering on the precipice of feelings you are not yet ready to confront.
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My dearest Seokmin, 
As I sit here with this pen in hand, I find myself quite at a loss. The arrival of my debut looms on the horizon, and while I am certainly filled with anticipation, I must confess that trepidation dances in my chest, quite uninvited. The notion of standing before an audience of peers—well-bred and well-mannered—fills me with an unease I cannot quite articulate. Will my words tumble forth in a jumbled mess? Or worse, will they fall on deaf ears?
I cannot shake the dreadful thought that I may never find a match. What if I enter that grand ballroom, adorned in my finest gown, and am met with indifference? Will the charming suitors twirl past me, whisking away others while I stand, forgotten, on the periphery? The idea sends a shiver down my spine, as I fear I may spend the evening watching the festivities unfold without me.
As I consider the expectations that accompany my debut, I can’t help but reflect on how you and Minghao have gracefully embraced your new roles as dukes. You carry the weight of your responsibilities with such elegance, while I find myself yearning to flourish in a world that feels daunting. Will I, too, be able to navigate this landscape of expectation and propriety, or will I falter under its weight?
Forgive my ramblings, dear friend. I suppose I am merely hoping for reassurance, a kind word from you. Perhaps if I know you will be there—your presence a familiar balm—I might muster the courage to dance and revel in the splendor of the evening.
With warmest regards and hopeful heart,Your Tulip
My Dearest Tulip,
Your recent letter has landed in my hands like a most delightful spring breeze, though I must confess it carries with it a hint of unease that quite unnerves me. How is it that my steadfast friend, who has faced the world with such spirited determination, now frets over the prospects of the ballroom?
First and foremost, allow me to put your mind at ease. The mere thought of you standing in that grand ballroom, adorned in the finest gown, is enough to illuminate the dimmest of corners. Your charm will be as radiant as the most exquisite of chandeliers, drawing the gaze of all who are fortunate enough to cross your path. I assure you, the gentlemen will hardly be able to focus on anything—or anyone—else.
Now, I cannot let this opportunity pass without a bit of teasing – regarding your step upon my toes during our lessons –  I daresay I must bring up a rather amusing memory. I cannot help but recall how you sent both Minghao and me reeling across the room, much like a pair of wayward marionettes! One can only hope that with age comes grace—or at the very least, a better sense of foot placement! If not, I shall be prepared to don the most resilient shoes in all of England.
Worry not, dear Tulip. I shall be by your side the entire season, if you shall have me (although, I am not entirely certain your dear brother will be entirely pleased by this idea). 
Your most loyal servant,Seokmin
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Dearest Sister, 
As I sit at my desk, I cannot help but feel a mixture of pride and exasperation as I pen this letter. Our infrequent exchanges have become quite the tradition, have they not? I find it amusing that as your brother, I am often left to await your words while Seokmin is constantly regaled by your stories. 
With your debut looming closer, I feel it is my solemn duty as both your brother and your Duke to remind you of the delicate nature of polite society. Your debut is not merely an occasion to don a gown and curtsy to the queen; it is a rite filled with expectations and decorum. I implore you to be mindful of the company you keep and the propriety that is expected of you as a young lady and the sister of the Duke. I have taken it upon myself to speak to Seokmin, warning him of the same – he has a habit of forgetting his own station in moments of levity. 
While I know you must find these constraints stifling, know that the eyes of the ton will soon be upon you, not only assessing your beauty but also your character. You are the jewel of our family, and I trust you will shine brightly, even amidst these expectations. 
Write to me when you can, dear sister, even if it is infrequent. Your musings are treasures to your dear elder brother, and I await them constantly. 
With all my love, Minghao
Dearest Brother, 
I say this with the utmost love and devotion:
Damn you. 
(Please forgive my language, and please, do not show this letter to Mama. I fear her admonishments may never end if she hears of my vernacular)
I am acutely aware of the expectations that accompany my debut – how could I forget when both you and Mama loom over me like a pair of hawks? While I recognize your intentions, your words do little to alleviate my anxiety. 
Your warning regarding Seokmin only serves to make me laugh. It is amusing, truly, to envision the Duke of Lancaster being chided by my brother on the virtues of propriety. I promise to keep my wits about me and to present myself with all the elegance expected of a young lady of my station (the sister of a Duke, no less!). 
I will do my utmost to avoid a scandal – or at the very least, I shall ensure that you do not hear of it. I shall write again soon, if only to unleash more of my exasperation upon you. 
Yours, in (implied) rebellion, Y/N (Sister of the Duke of Somerset)
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Age 18: 
On the eve of your debut, you find yourself seated on the swing in the garden of the Somerset townhome, the night cloaked in an almost palpable tension. The sounds of Mayfair filter through the stillness—a symphony of distant laughter, the soft clatter of carriages, and the occasional rustle of silk skirts—as the ton settles into slumber. The air feels electric, crackling with anticipation, as if the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for the events of the morrow to unfold.
You take a deep drag from the cigarette you swiped from Minghao’s rooms, the smoke spiraling into the night like a fleeting thought. With each inhale, you hope to drown out the anxious fluttering of your heart, a dissonant rhythm that accelerates at the mere thought of tomorrow’s debut.
“Why, Lady Xu Y/N, are you smoking?” The voice breaks through your reverie, causing you to sputter and cough, hastily attempting to conceal the cigarette behind your back. You turn to see Seokmin, leaning casually against the sturdy oak tree that secures the swing, his figure silhouetted against the moonlight.
His presence is both familiar and disarming, the boyish charm of his smile juxtaposed against the weight of his title. “No, Seokmin, I—” you stammer, flustered.
“Shove over,” he commands lightly, and before you can protest, he plucks the cigarette from your frozen grip, taking a deep, leisurely drag. The sight of him—so confident, so carefree—sets your heart racing in a way that both delights and terrifies you.
“What on earth are you doing here?” you ask incredulously, half-exasperated, half-amused.
“I was with your brother at White’s,” he replies, amusement dancing in his eyes. “It was my mistake to forget how little he can imbibe before devolving into an utter fool. I was merely making sure he returned home safely.” His tone shifts, curiosity sparkling in his gaze. “Are you excited for tomorrow?”
“Excited? Hardly,” you grumble, kicking at the scattered rocks beneath your feet. “What my heart truly desires is to run away—pack my things, flee to Paris, and open a quaint little bookstore. Perhaps live out my days as a spinster, surrounded by novels and solitude.”
Seokmin’s expression shifts, a shadow of understanding passing across his features. “We cannot always have what our hearts desire,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of sorrow as he exhales a plume of smoke. “Sometimes, we must accept that we can find happiness in what we have, not in what could have been.”
You watch the smoke dance and dissipate into the night sky, thoughts swirling as restlessly as the tendrils of fog around you.
“And you?” you ask quietly, the question escaping before you can catch it. “What does your heart desire?”
“Desired,” he corrects, taking another deep drag. “I once dreamed of being a fencer, of dueling beneath the sun. But above all, I yearned to find love.”
Your heart stutters at his admission. His thigh brushes against yours, an electric touch that feels so scandalously intimate you can hardly breathe. You suddenly become acutely aware of the nightgown you wear, the thin fabric doing little to shield you from the heat radiating from his body. If Minghao were to catch you in this moment, you are certain he would demand that Seokmin either marry you on the spot or duel him for your honor.
The very thought sends a shiver down your spine—an improper thought that both terrifies and thrills you. You are a young lady, poised to make your debut, and here you are, perched so closely to an eligible duke, the expectations of the ton looming like a dark cloud. What would society say if they were to discover you in this clandestine moment? The whispers would be deafening, your reputation in tatters, and yet… the thrill of it, the danger, pulls at you like a siren's song.
“And you believe you shall never find it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I am a Duke, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice so soft it barely pierces the night air. “Duty must come first. If there is any part of me left, which there rarely is, only then can I pursue love.”
The distance between you feels both impossibly vast and achingly close, the weight of his words pressing against you like an invisible force. You can see the vulnerability in his eyes, the unspoken longing that mirrors your own.
You hum, encouraging him to continue, yet the weight of his words presses down on your chest.
“But how fortunate am I,” he continues, his gaze piercing through the night like a beacon, “to have found such a remarkable friend who stands by me even as duty threatens to drown me where I stand.”
A friend. The word lingers between you, heavy and loaded. Is that truly all he sees you as? The realization sends your mind reeling, your heart racing in an entirely different way.
No, the trees whisper, urging you to reconsider.
Could it be…love?
That foreign sensation, long buried beneath layers of propriety and friendship, now unfurls within you, roots taking hold. You realize with a start that you have loved Seokmin, perhaps from that very first kiss on your hand all those years ago, long before you could articulate the feelings swirling in your heart.
Panic courses through you, and you leap up from the swing as if it has burned you. “It is late, Lord Lee. I must take my leave now,” you stammer, unable to meet his gaze. “I hope you find your way home safely.”
He reaches out, his hand brushing against your wrist, and your breath hitches at the contact. “Wait,” he says, his voice low, almost laced with concern. “Are you alright? You seem... distant.”
His eyes search yours, and you feel the weight of his gaze, an anchor that both comforts and terrifies you. Your pulse quickens, a frantic rhythm echoing in your ears. What would it mean to linger here a moment longer, to let the night wrap around you like a cocoon?
But all the books you’ve read offer no preparation for the heartache that comes with knowing he regards you as merely a friend. A friend, just like your brother. You are his friend, and the shattering realization settles in: he will never love you back.
“Tulip?” he adds softly, the word a whisper that brushes against your skin like the wind.
You swallow hard, every part of you aching to give in, to lean into the connection pulsing between you. But the truth looms like a storm cloud overhead, dark and inevitable.
You love Lord Lee Seokmin, Duke of Lancaster, but he will never love you.
And with that heavy knowledge weighing on your heart, you turn to leave, every step toward your room feeling like a betrayal to the emotions simmering just beneath the surface. 
You don’t sleep at all, thoughts consumed by a boy you had once known and the man you now love. 
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Tagging: @kibs-and-bits @moondustmemories @shinwonderful @ivehypnosis @gwend0lyne @thestoryofana13
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admirationandromantics · 2 days ago
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Fast Paced Introduction
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Here you go, another one!! Jesus Christ, the last two days in my inbox have been crazy, so please DON'T expect your stuff too soon, alright? Anyways, enjoy some more Chris, I think that's mainly what's in there, lol. Love him <3
Word count: 1,2k (Unedited)
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im gonna be annoying af in ur inbox too since u wanna BLAST MINE HAHA Chris with a reader who's like insanely into him at first sight and is like almost Mike levels of flirting after talking for 5 mins i feel like his brain would fry so fast ( its me i have autism and tell people things within an hour of meeting and have no issue being flat with people HA ) -@nerd-space
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“And this is Chris, who I’ve told you about” Emily introduces, and I look curiously up at the big blonde. His hair is messy, definitely not styled after he came out of the shower. A pretty smile spreads on his lips, as he lifts his arm, waiting for me to grab it. 
“Nice to meet you” he says, a little dimple on his right chin. Oh god, this man is gorgeous, and Emily didn’t lie about him being my type. His arms are big, probably really muscular under that sweater he’s wearing. I take his hand, making sure not to shake it too hard. His grip is firm, holding just a second too long for my conscience to pick up on it. His watch reflects a little light as he shifts, my eyes going straight to it. A decent one, silver. 
“Nice to meet you too, Emily didn’t mention you wore glasses” I say, immediately beating myself up. Glasses? What’s the point of that? 
“Oh, um, yeah I do” he gets kinda nervous, and I rush to save myself. 
“No, I mean, they look good, like really sexy and all of that. I mean to say that they look good on you, and she mentioned you, just not that and yeah” I babble, and Emily drags me away before I can continue. 
“Girl, I’ve never seen you like that” she smiles, an arm around my shoulders.  
“That’s because we party together, you only see the sexy and flirtatious me”
“Then get some alcohol into your blood, because if you talk like that again, I might have to leave you”
I gasp dramatically, hand going to my heart. 
“You wouldn’t” 
“Oh, but I would” 
The rest of the night goes better, Mike flirting with absolutely anyone, Matt and Ashley talking, and Sam hanging out with someone I’ve never seen before. My confidence is on top again, finally able to put that awkward episode behind me. It was just a small mistake, nothing wrong at all. Considering how hot he is, anyone could’ve made that mistake. It probably happens to him daily. 
He’s standing in a corner with Josh, who I’ve luckily met before, so starting a conversation wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. I walk over, keeping myself steady and lifting my boobs. Just a little. 
“Hey, Joshy!” I greet, and his arms immediately go around me. 
“Eyy, you came! Got a ride with Em, huh?” 
“That’s right” 
He turns to Chris, who has a small smile plastered on his lips. Oh, and he’s cute too. How many things were going to make me like him even more? Josh looks back and forth from us, and I turn my gaze to him. 
“Have you met?” 
“Yeah, Emily took the introduction” I explain, taking another sip of my drink. 
“She did pretty fine by herself as well” Chris laughs, meeting my eyes. Oh, and he is playful too? He’s got no idea what he’s gotten himself into. 
“Well, can’t help myself when he’s exactly my type” I comment, his cheeks reddening. Josh takes a small step back, looking over the blonde. 
“You know what, I hadn’t realised it before, but he is your type” 
“I know, right?” 
“So why aren’t you two in this corner alone, making something happen?” 
“Um, guys, I’m standing right here” Chris interrupts, hand behind his neck as he tries to form the words. 
“Oh, we’re aware” Josh laughs, nudging my arm and taking a few steps away. 
“Can I get you two anything to drink? A glass for the lady, a beer for my bro?” 
“Yes, please!” 
“I’ll be back in a bit!” 
I turn to Chris again, seeing that he’s put down the previous beer. It’s probably empty. I can’t help my stare, eyes going over his arms and fingers. 
“So” I begin, ripping myself from my trance. “How’s the night going?” 
“Well, pretty good so far, it’s a bit hot here though” he says, finger going to the hem of the neck, letting some air in. 
“You know, you could just take it off” I propose, making sure to add a slight suggestive tone. 
“Oh, I wish, but I don’t have anything underneath” 
“Even better” 
His eyes widen, and I realise the gravity of my words again. Wow, how this man makes me fail, I’m usually quite good with words. I give him my glass, which he holds, and start working on his arms. I drag his sweater up, noticing the muscles and veins popping as I do. He’s right, he’s very warm. His skin is burning up, making me want to take off my clothes and snuggle up to him. I do the same with his other arm, all whilst he holds my drink. 
“There you go, a bit better?” 
“Very much, yeah” he smiles, cheeks still bright pink. I think about the way I’ve been behaving, getting to touch and talk to him the way I have. I need to ask the essential question. 
“So, I should probably ask, do you have a girlfriend?” 
“I would have to say no” 
My eyes widen. He doesn’t? How hasn't this gorgeous man been caught yet? 
“What, how come?” 
“I guess it’s just not in the cards” 
“You’ve got to be kidding, right? You’re a hot piece of meat, I’m struggling keeping my clothes on where I stand right now” 
He laughs a little, hand coming up to cover his flushed face. I reach up, taking it away. 
“No, stop, don’t cover yourself. I love you looking like this” 
He stops laughing, our faces closing in as his eyes flutter. Oh gosh, he actually is the cutest man I’ve ever seen in my life. His mouth slightly opens as he’s closing in. 
“In the middle of all of this, I forgot to tell you how beautiful you are” he whispers, thumb caressing my cheek as we draw nearer. 
“Well, judging by how I see you, it bodies me well that you find me attractive” 
He takes hold of my waist, quickly turning us around and making my back slam into the wall. Before I can catch my breath, his lips are on mine, roughly caressing and eating. He knows how to kiss too? This man is a fidget of my imagination, I just know it. 
His hands wander to my waist, resting on my upper hips. I take hold of the back of his neck, nails carefully scratching, making him moan into the kiss. My other hand goes to his sweater, pulling him closer into me. 
“If you’re gonna go for it, get a room, don’t make everyone watch” Josh suddenly says. And we both turn our attention to him. He’s standing there like a lost dog, a couple of drinks in each hand. I take a breath, fixing my hair quickly and reaching over to grab mine. 
“Don’t worry Joshua, and thank you for the drink” 
“Um, yeah, we were just trying something” 
Josh smirks, eyebrows lowered in a sly manner as he leans back. 
“Yeah man, that’s why her lipstick is smeared across your lips and neck” Oh shit, I went for his neck and I didn’t even notice? Maybe I’ve had a couple too many of these. I look down on the red drink, some different liquids mixed. Oh, fuck it. I drink the whole thing in one go, before grabbing Chris’s hand and walking further down the hallway. He turns a little to give Josh a wave. 
“As I said, just trying something!”
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reel-fear · 2 years ago
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I think you guys are losing it with the Earthspark critiques now actually like at first I was on board but now it feels like u guys have forgotten we've only got one season so far and 99% of what we have seen was clearly set up for later pay off like calm down a little-
#if u replace these words with other words this is fucked up#and someone replies#ramblez#I joined in on it for a sec to talk abt how I personally view the themes#but now going in the tags is kinda a minefield suddenly all from one blog#and its like guys this series JUST started#not to mention a lot of the takes just feel. In really bad faith or purposely reading too deep into minimal stuff rn#like sure maybe the cybertronians are supposed to be symbolism for immigrants and stuff but I think they could also just be#symbolism of poc or other races in general? Considering what they've expeirence isnt purely xenophobia but other forms of racism too#and we dont exactly have enough info to know how the cons are gonna be treated what route the villains go down etc etc#ngl some of the takes feel like that tweet where some guy was like yea did u just figure out changing words in a sentence changes its meanin#the same is for stories#we dont yet entirely know what the terrans symbolize in all of this#what they are going to do with the cons the villains and everyone else#so yeah if u decide that certain characters n such symbolize something different than the intention [which we dont know yet#] u can make a story fucked up and problematic but thats not good critique thats how u make X character is secretly dead and this is#the afterlife theories abt pokemon and shit-#u cant just be like 'if you take this character and read them as symbolic of a thing thats never really mentioned or suggest by the story#then their story is actually very fucked up' and not provide more elaboration-#reminds me the tfa transphobia post that was like 'tfa clearly shows modifying ur body to be evil and dehumanizing#in terms of the characters upgrading' AND LIKE DID U EVEN WATCH THE SHOW OPTIMUS UPGRADES HIMSELF TO#TAKE DOWN MEGATRON... YOU KNOW... THE VILLAIN#LIKE YEA IF U TAKE THESE CHARACTERS NOT CODED TO BE TRANS AT ALL AND SAY THEY R SYMBOLISM FOR TRANS PPL#U MIGHT SEE THE STORY AS FUCKED UP BUT ITS NOT THE STORIES FAULT UR SCRATCHING OUT WORDS AND REPLACING#THEM WITH OTHERS-#reminds me of the nightheart shit too#nightheart isnt coded to be trans hating nightheart isnt transphobia its common sense#and yea if u take him as symbolism for being trans suddenly every woman in TC is transphobic now but thats not the storys fault#thats yours for putting concepts in the story and projecting ideas onto it that it does not hint at nor care to explore
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revvywevvy · 2 years ago
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yknow i've mentioned before that chelly is very capable of being violent and explosive. however the most ever angry i've ever drawn her is mildly upset. plus there was the memey-ish thing with chelly literally begging chip to let her bite maim kill people for him.
i kinda wanna draw chelly completely snapping. chelly getting a little too silly.
#cell screams#cw vent#//<- just incase lol#//fun fact that horse toon ive mentioned a few times? sam bucus? yeah he's based on my actual childhood bully#//this might start looking like a vent from here-on and will get violent so little warning if you keep reading these tags#//but yeah since my actual bully ruined my childhood and social development and never apologized i feel a lot of hatred as u can see.#//and since actually getting revenge on the real guy is both illegal and a total waste of my time im just going to take out said rage#//on the toon version of said guy. is that deranged? maybe. at least im self aware about it idk lol#//i am very close to just drawing chelly killing bucus or something idfk.#//but i am not wasting time trying to hunt down some asshole brat who definitely played a big part in me being so fucked up today#//bc like. he had a chance to apologize senior year. then when a friend told him to apologize he fuckin vanishes into thin air never to be#//seen again until graduation night. so in my opinion i think he didnt regret anything and wasnt sorry.#//which sucks bc in my traumatized rage i definitely said some fucked up shit to him too as a kid and would've apologized as well.#//but there was a chance for closure. i tried to find him too to try and get that closure but no. there never will be closure. its over now#//so instead im going to unleash a teeny tiny portion of my bottled up decades long rage and hatred#//on an anthropomorphic purple horse. :)#//besides sam bucus did more fucked up things to chelly than my irl bully since bucus is a culmination of EVERYTHING thats#//fucked me up in life whether it be mental machinations; intrusive thoughts or things that actually happened#//so while perhaps my real bully doesnt deserve death; SAM BUCUS SURE DOES AND HE'S GONNA GET IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#// :)#//sorry for my violent rambling i got it out of my system now thanks for reading my weird bullshit lmao
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mothslimes · 4 months ago
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honestly do not get comfort characters any character is a discomfort character to me i look at them and get really uneasy and it physically hurts and i wanna hide in a cave curled around them like a dog for the rest of my life and never see sunlight again. is that a thought you guys find comforting?
#mik talks#fictional characters rarely inspired anything but deep deep separation anxiety in me#its like i have a really bad crush on someone but no idea if they like me back#and also like 11 thousand people say they also have a crush on that person so am i really that special?#oh god i am so autistic jesus christ#anyway no i can not imagine making any of like. my top 5 favorite characters my public profile picture or something#not a single time where i have even uttered their name on any public website#that is between me and god and my discord friends#so yeah. the cave. darkness. dog. no sunlihgt#syd is my pfp because hes my silly little guy and i am able to be normal about him lol i can appreciate his awesomeness#without becoming really possessive and weird and being like GRRRR HES MINE HES MINE HES MINE I AM HIM NO DOUBLES#or whatever#that just sent me back a few years wow. ... kin discourse.....#honest to god i understand kinnies its a real bad way to cope with your life but i get it. wanting to claim complete ownership and kinship#over/with a fictional character lol...#for me its like a sliding scale of intensity but theres like idk... a handful of guys iwill never be able to mention publicly :/#thats why im pretty sure none of my mutuals know what my favorite shows are lol#and u wont find out unless were like 3 years into friendship or something#yes i am normal#just realized technically i did utter all these shows names on my very public website but. well idid take the link out of my profile bc#i got too lazy to work on it haha
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minnies-puppydoll · 2 months ago
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OT8 SKZ Headcannons:
.• {how they orgasm}•.
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OT8 x reader HCS..smutty, kinda fluffy
Warnings: degredation, breeding, mentions of choking/slapping, reader is called a bitch, lots of cum obviously, if i missed any lmk!
first post!! lmk how u feel abt it and send me asks!! :3 enjoy~*
smut below the cut….
Christopher Bahng:
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• straight to his core. loud, strangled noises spill from his mouth as he ruts into you like a desperate dog.
• grips onto whatever he can grab on you. especially when his orgasm takes him by suprise, hes gasping and frantically finding your wrist to hold so he can ride it out.
• during, he’ll lean down and send a growlish-moan to your ear, in a “you did this to me.” way😵‍💫
• his cock definetly throbs, if he pulls out, all you can see is it bobbing up and down and shooting out hot cum.
• he’s dazed afterwards, looking at his mess with half-lidded eyes as he smears it with his thumb.
• hits him more forcefully than sensually, like a pent up release. and trust, if you choke or slap him while he’s cumming then he’ll roll his eyes back and cum 10x harder.
• same for if he’s cumming from your strap, then its all broken whines and drooly pillows from there.
• im a firm believer of breeding kink chan. he’ll press down on your tummy so you can’t miss the feeling of his warm cum swelling you up.
“ahn- fucking..feel that? good whores get bred out, right? thats fucking right..made me cum, sweet girl..”
Lee Minho:
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• sooooooo long.
• his dancer core makes his orgasms last forever.
• you’ll be done touching him, and a minute later his cock is still throbbing and squirting out little droplets of cum.
• usually has deeper, longer moans throughout. but when it first hits, he lets out a loud, pornographic noise akin to a yell.
•his head lowers and his face is pained and focused. hands trembling slightly at how hard it hits him.
• makes the prettiest faces during it. all pleasure dazed, like hes in a trance, or like he can’t believe how intense his orgasm is.
• def an eye roller. his orgasms hit hard, not in a shaking way, but he’ll throw his head back and grip onto you, so he can hold you still while he works through his orgasm.
•when his eyes arent rolled to the back of his head, they are either closed or heavy lidded and unfocused.
• coming back to this, he prefers holding you still while he cums. hes way too sensitive for any extra motion. if you try to move on top of him, he’ll firmly cling onto your shoulders to keep you still.
• always a bit exsausted afterwards, but still laughs in disbelief at how long it really is.
“ah!…stay still. stay fucking still, please. just let me cum…mmfh- fuck..feels so good.”
Seo Changbin:
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• goes quiet when he’s about to cum. like its the only thing he can think about.
• 1/3 of moanracha. one of the only ones that moan (but turns kinda growl-ish at the end🤭)
• he knows his strength, so when he cums he tries to either get off of you or relax his body as much as he can. (thats why he prefers you on top)
• sounds in pain but he’s definetly not. he forgets how good you make him feel sometimes.
• a lip-biter, its how he calms himself down, also a throbber!! his hips never stutter though, he’s very good.
• a slut for his neck being touched, bite or kiss on his neck and he’ll cum so good for you.
• like i said earlier, he wants to hold you close so bad! but, he’s nervous he might crush you. so he trains himself for you, softly fucking into you and holding his trembling body back from just holding you down and pounding you.
• soft binnie boy in his dirty talk, his strength doesn’t match his words as he softens his body and starts to cum inside you.
“soft- soft..g’nna fuck you softly, yeah? sweet girl..making me cum..so good to me.”
Hwang Hyunjin:
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• 2/3 of moanracha. he moans unashamed, long, sensual noises that have you dripping.
• treats an orgasm like a piece of art, making sure to cum right on your pretty pussy and admire.
• his thighs tremble and his mouth hangs open, pleasure spreading along his body and glowing in his sides, eventually spilling all out onto you, his stunning muse.
• when he’s fucking you, there is nothing in the world that could break his concentration. its like you both have built this sweet atmosphere in the air, heated colors flash in your mind, trapping you with him.
• and when he cums, that atmosphere shatters into a million pieces, like nothing else in the entire world matters besides you and the intense pleasure you’re making him feel.
• he likes when you cum before him, so he can watch your every reaction to his hard work.
• but he likes it even better when you cum with him, he likes sharing the moment with you, so he might even make you hold it.🤭
“…fuck- hold it. i’m almost there, don’t fucking cum yet..fuck! i love you! i love you..so much.”
Han Jisung:
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• 3/3 of moanracha. his moans are loud and uncontrollable.
• BIGGEST EYE ROLLER. ive seen him do that shit too many times in videos, im so serious he does that when he cums.
• he also cannot control that tongue of his, shits always out of his mouth while drool drips from his bottom lip.
• he just loves feeling good!! he’ll take anything you give him as long as he gets to cum.
• his poor little cock gets so red. drips a massive amount of precum just to squirt out such a pathetic little load.
• loves teasing his cock after he cums. he’ll rub himself on whatever he can, twitching at the little sparks of harsh pleasure that it grants him.
• says “fuck me” even if he’s topping, such a freaky ass bitch😭
• and if you’re pegging or fingering him, you’ll be suprised at how slutty that little mouth of his is, drooling and babbling out such meaningless little praises and begs.
• grips your wrist and thrusts frantically into you with loud, pathetic whines. his eyes are a bit teary when he places his hand on your tummy, begging you to cum because of how overstimulated he’s getting.
“ah..fuck- fuck me, fuck me harder..shit. ah, please cum- ah..soon. please? s’too much.. i know, im pathetic..m’sorry.”
Lee Felix:
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• so sensual. like his orgasm is fire, burning his body so slowly.
• his hips may be frantic, but his voice is shuddery as he whispers pretty words and praises into your ears.
• his face heats up so much its unreal. he cant help but blush at how good you make him feel!!
• that deep voice in your ear😵‍💫 makes u wanna be silent so you can hear him better.
• small load, nothing too much, but it tastes so sweet. you beg him to cum on your face or in your mouth, he feels a little bad but he can’t hold it when he sees you stick your tongue out while he jerks his cock off.
• likes recieving pain when he cums, like scratching his thighs or biting down on his shoulders. it embarrasses him but also makes him drool🫶🏽
• okay fr guys..i think felix can squirt. HEAR ME OUT.
• rub the palm of your hand over his tip rapidly, or agressively rub his slit and he’s writhing and arching under you. gripping your wrist and begging you to slow down before he hides his face and squirts all over his tummy.
• he’s such a pleaser, that he’s unable to focus soley on his pleasure. so if he accidentally cums before you, he’ll pull out and mutter little apologies as he rubs your clit, ruining his own orgasm while shoving his face in your neck.
“..ah! fuck! sorry…m’sorry..hah- so sorry, angel..please cum- please cum too?”
Kim Seungmin:
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• when he's subbing, he's a desperate humper. wether its your shoe, or your hand, or even your belongings hes frantically fucking into it, trying to cum hard.
• but the way he cums is still the same, no matter what role he's playing.
• it looks earth shattering. he twitches and shakes, and his eyes are tightly shut (when they arent rolled back to his brain)
• he tries to have you lock eyes with him when he cums, but it always ends up with him breaking it almost immediately.
• prefers to cum on your lower back or tummy, but he's a bit of a clean freak so this preference doesn't help him at all😭
• very dazed and tender after. he'll look at you with loving eyes and caress your cheek, kinda like the sweet version of chan's "you did this to me" attitude.
• he used to be very shy about the way he acted when he came, so he would hold it in, but once you tried to forced one out of him anyway. poor boy was begging you to "wait" and "stop," but his body betrayed him and twitched into your hand.
"mm'ah! wait! stopstop' please- ill cum! please."
(or..dom ver bc im a slut 😈)
"oh? fine..make me cum then, bitch..c'mon- oh fuck..that's a good girl. only thing you're good for, right slut?”
Yang Jeongin:
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• doesn’t hit him quite as hard as the others, now that doesn’t mean its not enjoyable for him.
• it just means that his buildup is stronger than his orgasm, it comes in blissful waves rather than the others.
• when it hits, his jaw drops and his eyes close, but soon after 4 seconds of that, hes giggling about it and using it to give you more pleasure.
• big ass load. he cums so much its not funny. he likes cumming in you too, so good luck with that!
• whispers long, teasing groans in your ear to feel you squeeze around him.
•he enjoys fucking more than the actual climax, so he’ll usually hold his orgasm off until you’re begging him to cum.
• then, he’ll tilt his head and glide his cock along your clit with the same pace, like he never stopped fucking you. laughing at your cries and pleads.
“hm..aw, poor baby..want my cum? need my cum inside you? hm..ill think about it.”
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whytheylosttheirminds · 1 month ago
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home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.
❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️
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summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…
content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni
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Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!
You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie
Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask
You: what’s up?
Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?
You: does he live near us?
Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!
You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!
You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good
Brodyyy <3: cookie day?
You: exactly, u get me
Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!
You: np!
You: what’s his name btw?
Brodyyy <3: …
You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”
Brodyyy <3: rafe
You: be so fr rn
You: as in cameron???
You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??
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Hour one
You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.
“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.”
Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.
“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.
Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus. 
It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.
“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.
“I know,” you said dryly.
“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.
“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”
Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you. 
Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him. 
“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”
“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.
“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”
“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.
It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip. 
“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.
“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.
You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up. 
But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.
“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.
You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.
“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.
You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, “uhm excuse me!”
“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”
“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.
“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.
“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.
“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.
“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.
“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.
“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”
“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”
You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.
“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.
“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.
“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”
“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card. 
You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy? 
“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes. 
Time to bring it home, he thought.
“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”
“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said. 
Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.
“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.
Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.
With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.” 
Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.
“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”
He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”
“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.
“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.
You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.
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Hour two
The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.
Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.
“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”
“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.
“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”
Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.
“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.
Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”
“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”
“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”
His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”
“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.
“Yeah? Like who?”
“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.
“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.
“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.
“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.” 
“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.
You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.
You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.
“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat. 
He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you. 
“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.
You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does. 
“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”
“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.
“Like you know me at all.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”
“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.
“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”
“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.
“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”
Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.
“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”
Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.
“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”
“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.
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Hour three
Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.
Rafe snored. Loudly.
You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.
Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.
“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.
“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.
“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.
“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”
Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.
“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?” 
“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.
“Try me,” he said.
You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.
“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.
“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.
“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”
You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down. 
“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”
You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.
Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”
“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre. 
“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.
“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting. 
“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”
“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”
You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”
He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’
After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.
“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.
Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.
“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.
“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”
“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”
Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.
“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.
“What?”
“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.
“Why?” you asked.
“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”
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Hour four
Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.
With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.
It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes. 
“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“
“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.
You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket. 
“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”
“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”
“Ah, you pimping your ride?”
He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”
“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.
“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.
“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?” 
“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”
You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.
“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.
“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.
“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.
“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.
You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.
“What kind of animal was -”
“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”
Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.
“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles. 
“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”
Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?
Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.
“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”
Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.
Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.
“Is that a yes?” he continued. 
“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”
Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…
“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”
“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”
Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field. 
“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”
“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”
Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway. 
Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.
His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun. 
“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.
Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail. 
“Fuck!” 
He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.
Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.
“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.
He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.
“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.
“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.
“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.
It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.
“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.
Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”
“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.
“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.
“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”
You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.
“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.
“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”
“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.
The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”
You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.
“Uh, a little privacy please?” 
His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.
You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.
Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.
The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.
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Hour five
Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.
Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.
“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.
With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.
“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.
“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.
----❄----
The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.
“How much was it?” You asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life. 
You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.
“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.
Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.
“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.
“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.
“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”
“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.
“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station. 
The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…
“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.
“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”
It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love. 
“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it. 
You didn’t.
“Does your family have any traditions?” 
“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.
“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.” 
“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.
“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him. 
He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.
“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.
“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”
It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.
“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.
Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble. 
“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.
“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”
“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”
“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.
“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.
With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat. 
“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.
Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 
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Hour six
In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…
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Hour seven
The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.
And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.
“Oh my god!!” 
You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off. 
You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.
“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.
Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.
“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.
You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard. 
“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.
“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.
“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer. 
“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”
“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.
With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.
“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.
“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”
You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.
“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.
“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.
“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.
“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”
He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.
----❄----
“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.
Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.
“What is it?” He questioned.
“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole…” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”
He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”
“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”
With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.
“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.
He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.
“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.
“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”
You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.
It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.
“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”
He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”
With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.
You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.
Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.
Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…
“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!” 
The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.
“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”
The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.
“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”
Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”
“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.
“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas. 
The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.
“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”
You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.
----❄----
Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry. 
He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.
“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention. 
You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time. 
Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.
“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”
----❄----
The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.
You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said, 
“You owe me a cookie.”
(part two)
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a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!
for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!
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taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe
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nereidprinc3ss · 7 months ago
Text
slumber party
in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid
fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu
“Oh, there is no way.”
Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 
“What? Is it—”
You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?
But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 
Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.
But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.
One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.
Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 
“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”
Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 
“Oh my god! You guys too?”
“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 
“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”
You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 
“What about Morgan and Garcia?”
Spencer snorts.
“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”
“Hotch and Rossi?”
The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.
“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”
“Can we please not try to picture it?”
“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”
“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”
“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”
“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 
“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”
Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 
“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”
“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.
Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 
“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”
“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 
“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”
Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 
From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 
“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”
The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 
“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 
“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”
“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”
“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”
“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”
“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 
That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 
“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”
It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 
“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”
“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 
“Obviously nobody has told me that.”
“It means y—”
“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”
“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”
You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 
“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 
You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 
“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”
“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”
Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 
“We’re not?”
“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”
He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 
“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”
“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”
Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 
“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”
“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 
Spencer doesn’t respond. 
It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 
In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.
The mattress squeaks. 
You do it again. 
Another squeak. 
A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 
“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”
Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 
“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 
“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”
“I don’t—”
“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”
“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”
You’re only sort of kidding. 
“I… fascinate you?”
“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”
“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”
“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”
“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 
“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”
“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”
Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 
“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”
With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.
“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”
Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 
“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 
“You’d be surprised.” 
The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 
“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 
And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 
But you don’t bring those up. 
Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 
“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”
“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 
“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”
“Family annihilator from Houston?” 
“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”
“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”
“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”
“So he’s in your bag.”
“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”
“You are genuinely psychotic.”
You huff.
“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”
You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 
“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”
The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 
“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”
“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.
3K notes · View notes
kenyummy · 8 months ago
Text
BEACH DAY ꒰⚘݄꒱ BLUE LOCK
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SYNOPSIS: as a manager during the nel, a well-deserved rest was needed. what better way to rest than a fun day in the hot summer air, in a bikini, at the beach?
note: this was originally a special for 100k reads on my wattpad book found (which u should SO read btw #shamelesspromo) but to avoid confusion i edited out a lot of mentions of the manager characters who were included in this short! i really hope you all enjoy!
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TODAY
is a completely regular day of fun outings. Shidou had (in)formally organised a beach trip, something you decided would be a good idea. The NEL has been stressful on all of you, whether it be you and the other managers, the players, or even coaches—taking a good day off seemed to be a good idea.
So, you were heading to the beach.
The place where women can wear skimpy bikinis without being called promiscuous names (it would happen anyway—but in a perfect world everybody would mind their own business) and the place where strange men (some of those men may happen to be named Otoya and Aiku) would check out the local fauna dressed in said skimpy bikinis.
It was a fun day of splashing around in the waves, ignoring all problems present in your life, and unwinding in the grainy sand. You miss it. That is why, even though you're sure this will happen to end up in disaster, you agreed. 
So, this is what got you in this predicament now—thirty minutes before you had to get there with a ten minute trip driving—that was all that was left for you to remember everything.
Swimming outfit. A change of clothes. Sandals that won't trap sand. What else...
You ponder as you stare down at your duffel bag, filled with everything you need. Money—food stalls at the beach were always ridiculously expensive for no apparent reason, Floaties—you never know when somebody might just need some abrupt saving. Towels—plenty of towels, A robe—you'll probably be a little chilly when you get out of the water.
Apart from the obvious essentials like hair ties, deodorant, sunscreen, keys and whatever other odd things you need whenever you go out—you think you're good to go. 
You take a good look at your swimsuit. You haven't worn it in a while. A simple black two-piece with each front piece of fabric being held together with two silver rings—it's a little smaller than you would've liked, but you don't own any other kind, so you decide to just go with it.
You roll up your towel nicely and tuck it into your bag, then zip it up. You stare down at the fat duffel bag that is practically bursting at the seams. You are ready to take on the final boss—the beach.
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You stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom, pulling at the tight elastic band of your bikini. It digs into your skin slightly. Hissing through your teeth—you decide it's nothing, and quickly make your way outside.
With your bag under your arm, you walk out and look around. Two of the other manager girls said they'd saved a spot underneath a bright purple umbrella. It takes little effort to spot it in all its neon glory.
They both sit atop a beach towel, with odd things like sunscreen, keys, and waterproof mascara all scattered around them. You wave a little before you sit down on a part of the towel, taking in the sight of the beautiful beach.
Children running around, adults chasing after them—some guy was even getting told off in the middle of the waves for losing his swim trunks. All in all, the beach was positively bursting with rich energy.
You missed this. You haven't felt this calm in a good while. Dealing with all those rowdy boys vying for your attention—it took a toll on you.
Too bad this peace would not last for too long.
Your phone dings. You pick it up and press on the notification—it's a snap from Shidou. You hesitantly click on the picture and it's a closeup of his left eye—but in the background, you can see the side of the building you had just changed inside, and a shirtless Otoya is trying to kick at somebody.
You don't even have the chance to properly react when a loud yell interrupts your thoughts. You snap your head towards the sound so fast your neck aches—the source was Rin on the floor while, even though a second ago a phone should've been in his hand, Shidou is jumping him.
A smart, sassy quip and loud groans erupts from both you and the other manager girls—you slap your phone down and squeeze your face in your hands.
Perhaps this is the start of doomsday, you think as the overly massive group starts making their way towards you and your blaring purple target of a neon umbrella.
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"[name]!!" Bachira crashes into you—with the way he knocks you both to the sandy ground, he should be playing rugby instead of soccer—and rubs his cheek against yours like a loving cat. "I'm so excited to see you again! You never come by our stratum!!"
He's flat on top of you and the stares you're receiving start to grow uncomfortable. You push back at his chest but he simply opts to sneak his arms around your shoulders, "Bachira...!! Let me... get up..."
It takes the brute force of Barou King Shoei to remove his figure from latching onto yours. With a twitching brow and eyes that could stab daggers into Bachira—a small laugh unintentionally escapes your lips when he talks, "You're all sandy, you disgusting bug. If you get all that sand on the towel, I'll seriously kill you."
Bachira is being held up by the scruff of his water suit like a cat. He dangles in the air and flings himself at Barou next—"Fight me, king!"
"YOU—!!!"
Ignoring the upcoming brawl on the ground, you step over the two and you find your way towards...
"Hello, Isagi." 
Your voice seems to make him jump—his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of your face and he looks far too nervous to be speaking to you. "O—Oh... Hello, [name]...! It's good to see you again..."
He's trembling and making such intense eye contact that you wonder if he's okay. His fists are clenched hard beside his body and you think he might just about have a heart attack. "Are you... okay?"
He answers a little too quickly, "Yes! I'm fine, haha, why would you worry about me? I'm totally good! Best I've ever been! Why would you ask? I look okay, right? Well, I gotta go now! I'll see you later, [name]!"
He runs off like he's a high school girl who's just had her first conversation with her senior crush. I can't tell if he's insecure about how he looks or worried about being disrespectful to me.
Maybe it's a mix of both. Isagi is on the slimmer side, compared to guys like Barou. Even though I know he's not, he looks like he's on steroids. 
And Isagi's always been worried about being disrespectful to you—worried about overstepping boundaries and making you uncomfortable—at least when he's in his usual, clear state of mind. There's no telling what he's thinking when he stares down at you late at night after a good game with that overconfident, egotistical smirk.
Anyways—he's rushed away by now, and you're just standing here looking all stupid. Oh well. At least you're not alone for too long, because your attention is quickly stolen away by a certain trio. 
Karasu, Otoya, and Yukimiya all come up to you—only one bothers to wave or even smile (there's no surprise he's a model—he's seriously gorgeous, you note when glancing down at his torso).
"Hey." The sneaky ninja is not so sneaky anymore, because he doesn't even try and disguise the way he's staring at your chest. He gives you a thumbs up, to which you scowl, "Lookin' good."
"Get your eyes off my chest."
"Sicko." Karasu shakes his head with a disappointed expression. You deadpan.
"You too, stupid crow."
"Did your mothers not teach you respect?" Yukimiya clicks his tongue—eyes fluttering closed as he shakes his head. He soon turns his head towards you and he actually does make eye contact with you—a step above his two friends. "It's nice to see you, [name]. You look very nice. Ignore these two."
You promptly ignore the offended looks shot at the model—you opt to just stare, perhaps a little too dreamily (but you couldn't care less, really), and smile back, "It's nice to see you too, Yukki. Thank you, you look handsome today, too. I was planning on ignoring those two, anyways."
"Woah, that is seriously hurtful." Karasu places a hand over his bare chest where his heart would be. "Too bad I don't care."
You roll your eyes. "Of course you don't, stupid crow."
"Would you stop calling me that?"
"Would you stop staring at my boobs?"
He pauses. "Point taken."
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Having Nagi cling to you during your time at Blue Lock is pretty hard already. Believe it or not, he's 6'2, and believe it or not, having a grown 6'2 man hanging off your side makes it pretty hard to get around. 
Having a shirtless, messy-haired Nagi plant himself right on top of you and having his face smushed against the top of your chest is a little worse.
You can feel a burning stare at the back of your head. You're not sure if the stare Reo is giving you is directed at you or the snow-haired boy. (Perhaps it is both and he's just conflicted—you would understand).
"Nagi..." You push back at his head and slowly intertwine your fingers in the white locks. They're softer than you imagined, but the ends are unmistakably dead. You should cut it for him later. "Go swim or something."
You are disappointed (yet, not the slightest bit surprised) when he promptly shakes his head no and proceeds to dig his nose even deeper into your exposed skin. His voice is slightly muffled, but still plausibly understandable, "Nuh-uh. Dun' wanna."
Your eyes twitch. Perhaps you have been spoiling him a little too much—so much so he refuses to leave you be. 
"'Cause I didn't wanna go, but then mmmm... uh—Reo told me you were gonna come... and it wouldn't be too much of a hassle if you stayed with me. Hadn't seen you in so long. Missed you."
Right. You forgot he told you that before, too. Perhaps you had been a bit too doting on Nagi—he's clingy-er than you remember. Or perhaps it had been similar to that saying, distance makes the heart grow fonder.
A loud shriek (it sounds far too girly to have come out of Nagi's mouth, but go figure) alerts you and you see Nagi has been grabbed backwards into a headlock by Barou King Shoei. Perhaps he had turned away from the villainous side since your last meeting with him, because right now, he's saved you twice, like a hero.
Nagi doesn't even fight the King's death grip—he flops like a dead fish and it looks rather funny seeing it so closely. Nagi is taller, yet much lankier than Barou, who looks like a bodybuilder compared to the lazy snowhead.
"You're kicking sand all over the towel, Mr Hassleman." Barou snarls and jerks Nagi's head back. The boy doesn't react other than wearing his little :x face. "Go swim it off. Now."
Nagi does not make any visible effort to move. Barou still holds him like a ragdoll in his grip when he turns to look at you—you laugh a little and move your sunhat out of your eyes. "Hi, Barou. It's nice to see that you came. I didn't think you'd like the beach."
He looks a lot different with his hair down, you note. But in a good way. Fallen beneath his shoulders—you wonder why he does not wear it this way more often. He still holds his signature forever pissed-off expression, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You think I'm incapable of having fun?"
You pause, with a small grin. "Yeah, kinda."
He gives you a deadpan expression. "You're the same as always, you shit manager."
"I thought our relationship had progressed to the point we'd gotten past these mean names." You place a hand over your chest, a cheeky smile on your lips with a faux-hurt expression. You didn't usually joke around like this—it wasn't really your thing—but he was just far too easy of a target to tease. "I'm hurt, King."
He cocks a brow—you see Nagi trying to wriggle around now, and it's good to know he didn't actually die—"Seriously? Didn't think you were the type of person to care."
"Doesn't matter now. You're gonna swim, right?" With a nod of his head, you break away from his sharp stare and give him a small wave with a closed-eye smile. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Oh yeah—by the way, you look good with your hair down. You should do it more often. Anyways, see you later."
You do not catch the half-hearted wave Nagi sends you—which was just him flopping his arm up in the air—nor do you catch the look Barou throws over his shoulder at you, "... Not too bad yourself."
He says, but you do not catch it.
Nagi stares up at the man with a blank expression, "Who knew you were all sweet on our manager, huh, King?"
The King in question growls like an animal and tosses Nagi into the ocean like a ragdoll, "Shut the fuck up!"
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"Beach volleyball?" Chigiri stares with confusion in his bright pink eyes as Kurona sits on Gagamaru's shoulders—setting up the tall net. His hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and his bangs fall over his eyes. "Are you serious?"
His head turns to yours when you shrug, "Why not? Beach volleyball is super fun. It's not like you guys can play soccer on the sand."
Chigiri pauses to think your words over for a second. You give him the most empty stare you can muster before you speak, "You really can't play soccer on the sand, Chigiri."
"Well, still. Are you gonna play?"
You shake your head and spare him a small smile. "No, I think I'll pass on this one. I'd like to see you play, though. You seem like you'd be really good at volleyball."
He gives you a pretty smile and shakes his head. "Oh, I don't know. I wasn't really planning to play either. I was honestly just thinking of sitting down with you and just relaxing."
"Oh, but I really would like to see you play. I bet you'd be better than anybody else out there, Hyoma." Not to be brass or anything, but you like to think you know a good amount about Chigiri—including how to get him to do what you'd like: Fan his ego. Or to put it in better words, praise him. "I think you'd look pretty cool."
You give him the nicest smile you can muster, and you're sure that's what seals the deal. He turns his head away from yours—yet you can practically sense the smirk he now holds—"Well, if you really think so, why not?"
You laugh a little as he walks onto the court, and each side with six players—even if in official beach volleyball, there were only two on each side, this was the most unofficial game you've ever really witnessed.
Otoya and Karasu are jumping on each other's shoulders in an effort to block the spikes—it only ends in the one on top tumbling to the ground and Yukimiya shaking his head in an I'm not mad, just disappointed motion.
Bachira is using his feet to play, kicking the ball up even when his hands were a completely more viable option—you think this is illegal, but who are you to judge—and Shidou is doing the same thing, except he... is hogging the ball. You aren't even sure how you hog the ball in volleyball, but he's managing it.
Rin is the one who manages to get it away from him but it only ends up in another tussle—something you do not bother to stop because one of the manager are already running toward them with a can of hairspray (which, if you were not previously aware, has the same effect as pepper spray if directed into the eyes).
You loll your head back and let out a heavy sigh. This beach day was going better than you had expected—still, your group by far had gained the most traction from how loud you all ended up being. You've gotten countless stink-eyes from old people, especially when Shidou yells out profanities in the vicinity of little children. 
You wonder if the police may get called on you all. Maybe you should pretend you're not in their group as a last-ditch effort if it does end up happening.
You are broken out of your thoughts by a small, almost nervous greeting, "Um... hey, [name]." 
You look to where the source of the sound came from—you get an eyeful of Isagi's bare torso before you see his face. He's looking off to the side awkwardly as if the mere action of looking at you would be purgatory, and he looks like he doesn't know what to do with his hands so he grips the end of his swimming shorts awkwardly. It's cute.
"Hi, Isagi." You smile. You shuffle over to create a little more room on the towel you are sitting on. You pat the free spot beside you and nudge your head towards him, "Come sit."
Obediently—you didn't expect him to move so fast—he sits beside you. He still looks stiff and nervous, so you ask him what's up. He responds, quickly but much quieter than his usual calm tone, "I was... um... ah, this is so stupid..."
He sucks in a deep breath of air and turns his back towards you. It's a little more built than you imagined. "I was... just gonna ask if you could put sunscreen on my back... I can't reach, and I trust you more than the... others."
You can practically feel the way his face burns up from how his voice cracks and grows more hushed with every word. To save him from the embarrassment, you decide to spare him from teasing words. "Sure. I don't mind. I'm glad you trust me, Isagi."
The words come out a little more sultry than you intended as you test the waters and place your fingertips on his bare shoulders. He shivers. You can feel it.
You spread the sunscreen all over his back—he places his face in his hands as you work your hands a little lower. When your fingertips brush against the waistband of his shorts he has to bite back a small groan. This was utterly humiliating for him—seriously, this was sad.
You're not completely oblivious to this fact, so in a menial act of pity for the poor guy, you try and finish up as quickly as possible—if only to save him from the embarrassment. 
It feels far too intimate to be just a friendly gesture. He wonders if you feel that way too. You lightly rest your palms on his tense shoulders when you are done, sitting on your knees and leaning your face near his own, "Done."
He'd be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat. He swallows thickly, blunt nails digging into his palms as he shuffles around so he faces you. The words that come out of his mouth are a little shakier than he would've liked, "T... Thanks... [name]."
The smile you have plastered on your face is nothing short of pretty, he thinks. "No problem. You can come to me if you need anything, okay?"
Why do you have to say things like that, [name]?
Isagi gives you a small nod, and practically forces a wavy smile onto his lips. "Yeah... You're really helpful, you know that?"
You laugh. "I know."
The mood between you two is calm and the strange tension from before has dissipated. You're smiling from ear to ear, about to say something—when Isagi's demeanour changes completely. You're not too sure why, but he seems to spot something behind you and his eyes completely shift.
Gone is the meek and shy boy, and in his place is a coy, smiling man. He places a hand on your upper arm—it makes you jolt and look at him in surprise. A second ago, he couldn't even look you in the eye, and now, he was shuffling closer towards you like it was the most natural thing ever.
"Anything, right?" He finally speaks, and he moves his hand up, away from your arm and it lightly traces underneath your jaw. He looks deeply into your eyes, but still keeps glancing behind you. "Can I do this?"
You do not get a chance to ask what this happens to be—although, it does not take a genius to figure it out, and you are no genius—or even spare him an answer before he grabs your hardcover novel and holds it up in front of where the two of your lips meet—covering your kiss from the other players that surround you all.
He doesn't dare take this further than a small kiss—yet, it wouldn't be considered a simple peck either. His hand holds the underside of your jaw lightly and tilts your head up so he can easily feel you and the back of the hard-cover book feels cool against your cheek. 
You'd like to believe the reason your cheeks are on fire is from the blaring heat of the sun shining down on you—even though you are underneath the shade of that purple umbrella. His lips taste sweet, like a fruity drink. You think a stall nearby is serving something similar to that.
You can feel his smile against your lips, and he seems to be all too happy to have you like this. He tilts your face forward and your body has to follow—to the point you practically collapse into his lap. It feels much more intimate now that you can feel his bare skin against your own.
Isagi moves his hand down from your jaw down toward your waist, holding you taut against him and letting his fingertips rest in the dip of your back. 
You finally end up moving backwards, and your sunhat almost falls off your head—Isagi quickly readjusts it when he pulls away. He gives you a sweet smile—though, it grows more cocky when he glances behind you again—and says, "You really are helpful, [name]."
You blush a little but still retain that same smile when his hands trace down your spine gently, romantically. "I know."
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Isagi joins in on the beach volleyball fun with Nagi after Rin and Shidou leave in favour of taking a dip in the sea (you think you hear Shidou saying something about skinny-dipping, and you pray to every god imaginable you heard wrong), so you are left to yourself once more.
You are perfectly content. Your sunhat lay on the towel beside you and your legs are peeked out in the sun—reading your book where you last left off.
Your life is perfectly calm until it is not.
Hands suddenly cover your vision and all you see is darkness. You jerk your head up and are about to say something when a heavily accented voice suddenly rings out throughout your ears, "Guess who?"
You could recognise that voice in your sleep from how often it haunts your dreams. You recognise that voice even before you hear it. You slump down where you sit, letting out a heavy, almost tired sigh. "Kaiser..."
"Ah! How did you guess it so easily, hübsches Mädchen?" He removes the hands blocking your vision and he suddenly plops himself down, right in front of you—of course, his little guard dog is right by his side, sporting his usual guileless expression. "Perhaps you think of me far too often, hm? Also, I told you to call me Michael. We are closer than that, no?"
You shake your head, eyes slightly squinted at him. "I don't know about that. Hello, Ness."
The puppy-dog boy waves his hand at you, clearly delighted. "Hello, [name]!"
Kaiser looks annoyed at this interaction. He scoffs, rolling his electric blue eyes and waving you off mindlessly, lashes fluttering closed, "Whatever. I cannot believe you're just reading at the beach."
You raise a brow. "What's wrong with that?"
He picks up the book by its spine and tosses it nonchalantly on the towel beside you, lips curled downwards into a sneer, "It's terribly dorky. You look like a huge dork."
"You sound like you care about that more than me."
"I don't want my love interest to look like a huge geek. Appearances matter a lot, you know." Yeah, you make that really clear. He abruptly stands up—Ness scrambles to get up as well—and looks down at you, finger curling upwards towards you like he's beckoning you to follow him. "Come on."
You blink with your nose scrunched up. "Excuse me?"
He coughs into a closed fist, looking up at the bright blue sky so he doesn't have to meet your gaze. He still holds a hand out to you, "Come on. Don't keep me waiting."
You're so shocked that you actually find yourself following after him—though, you do not take his outstretched hand and it is left hanging awkwardly. Ness would've taken it.
Your sandals flop on the sand as you walk down the beach, past families and couples and people simply wanting to tan—you follow behind Kaiser in silence while Ness walks beside you. You hope people don't think of you three as a throuple. That would absolutely not be good for your image whatsoever.
You pause as soon as you realise exactly where he is leading you. He's stepped halfway into the water when you halt your movements right before the splash of a wave hits your toes.
"Yeah, no thanks." You abruptly turn on your heel and proceed to try and make a getaway—you don't get too far until Ness grabs your wrist and tugs you backwards. You tumble into him—somehow, he doesn't fall over and only grabs your upper arms in his hands with a frantic expression.
"Please, [name]! Kaiser really wants to swim with you!"
Kaiser hisses through his teeth lowly and stares at Ness like he's just cursed out his mother, "What the hell, Ness?! I never said that!"
The small boy does not make it very subtle when he gasps in shock. Ness slaps his hands over his mouth and shakes his head—his voice is muffled when he speaks, but you can still understand slightly, "I—I never said that! Nobody said that!"
He's so embarrassed the poor boy rushes into the water and disappears beneath the waves. You wonder if he has become one with the sea. In the distance, you can see Kurona and Hiori chilling on a large unicorn floatie—with drinks and colourful straws—that should've only been able to fit one person.
You and Kaiser are now just staring at each other in very much awkward silence. You take a languid step back. "Well... If you don't want to swim..."
Once again, you do not get the chance to dash away because he's grabbed you and pulled you into his grasp before you could even react. You look at him with wide eyes—but you're practically putty in his hands when he bends down and clasps his arms over the back of your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder like a menial sack of potatoes.
Your sandals fall off your feet as soon as you find yourself tucked over him—you let out a very loud, very offended, very embarrassed gasp of shock, "What the hell... ?! Kaiser—put me down! Sick bastard!"
Your words have no visible effect on him. Your head slumps down when you feel him walking, and your hair hangs over your head. You get a good eyeful of his back. He's also more muscular than you imagined. Makes sense why he could even do this. That doesn't mean you're not pissed, though.
You can't see his face, but you can practically envision his signature cocky smirk and how it paints his stupidly handsome features, "I'm all fine, hübsches Mädchen. Are you ready?"
Huh? Ready for what—!!!
You feel so indiscriminately stupid for even asking this question—you should've already known the answer—because you suddenly find yourself collapsing into the water, salt filling each of your senses and the loud noises of children screaming around you fading to muffled nothingness. 
You jump up as fast as you can—you're just tall enough so you can stand with your chest above the waves. You start coughing to try and get the small amount of water you happened to swallow out of your system—your hair is now wet with the water and is suddenly heavier, and you're shivering cold.
Kaiser, the asshole he is, is laughing wildly at your expression. You push your hair away from your vision and you receive an earful of his—stupidly charming—laughter. His hands clamp over his mouth in a last-ditch effort to muffle himself, which only makes your face flush hotter with anger and your chest tightens.
You want to yell and scream into his face, but you choose the better way out. You puff your cheeks out and hold your breath as you dive back under, swimming behind him and slamming your foot into the back of his knees so that he tumbles forward, face-first into the water.
You've never felt prouder of yourself.
You bob your head back up and start to laugh wickedly now—it was his turn to look like a drowned rat. When his head comes above water, you can't help the tears of laughter that brim across your waterline when he gives you a deadpan, silently fuming glare.
His wet bangs cling to his face (somehow, it suited him—the mere thought made you feel a little angry, in the way that your stomach started to feel all weird and your heart skipped a beat or two) and his red eyeliner is smeared down his cheek. He pushes his blonde hair back, so that his damp bangs fall over his left eye and his hair is parted strangely to the side.
"Hmph." He looks away from your figure—you have to cling onto his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over, and your chest heaves up and down wildly to breathe. "I don't know what you find so funny."
You look up at him from your slumped position, eyes squinted upwards and you're practically sparkling with joy, "You... you look hilarious! Ahahaha—look at you! I can't—" Your words are cut off by your gasps for air.
Kaiser does not look the least bit impressed. He stares down at where your cheek is planted on the side of his neck, right where the blue rose lies. His hands stabilise you by falling into the small of your back—right where Isagi's fingertips once touched.
You finally regain your composure and move away from how you were practically pressed up against him—your cheeks are starting to hurt from how hard you were smiling, and you now sport a much calmer sort of grin when you stare up at him. "Ah... I'm sorry—don't look so mad—"
He rolls his eyes, which makes you chuckle, hands resting on his shoulders, "Oh come on... don't look at me like that... I'm sorry..." Your tone is far too playful to sound apologetic. He is slightly enjoying the attention you bestow upon him, but the thought makes his head hurt so he chooses not to reflect on it. "Michael..."
Fuck. His name sounds so nice coming out of your mouth.
He still keeps up the annoyed act, however, even when you grin up at him with that stupidly pretty, stupidly knowing look, "Don't be like that... I'm sorry, okay? What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"
The blonde pauses, blinking owlishly and looking down at you. You are still smiling, and he can feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. You almost look dazed, probably from your previous session of full-blown laughter.
His hands still rest lowly on your hips. He moves one and tilts your chin up with his thumb, "Hm." A smirk coils onto his lips and in an instant you can see the happiness that practically radiates off his being. "I think this will suffice, for now."
He leans forward, and suddenly, he is kissing you. Unlike Isagi—he wastes not a second to slip his tongue between your lips and kisses you as deeply and passionately as he can muster—it's so Kaiser, so him that it makes your stomach twist within itself.
His hands run down the side of your body—the places where his rough fingertips meet the skin that you usually cover with clothing make you jolt and goosebumps form on your wet skin.
His bangs tickle your cheek and despite how wet they are, they are soft. His left, tattooed hand finds itself on the side of your stomach and his blunt nails sink into the soft flesh—he grabs at whatever he can get his hands on. It's lowly and desperate and so unbefitting, so uncharacteristic of him—but in this moment, he can hardly find it within himself to care.
The hot sun beams down on you both and it causes your head to grow all hot and fuzzy—Kaiser's natural warm body heat is not helping either. You're feeling so much all at once that your hands unconsciously place themselves on his bare chest in a small attempt to create a sliver of distance between you two. 
It does not work. Your torso leaves no room or gap as you're sunken into his arms—it makes him groan into your mouth and god, you almost feel sick to your stomach when you realise your first thought after hearing it is that you really want him to do it again.
You're not underwater anymore, but you might as well be. Every sense is muffled—the children screaming, the cool, glittery water that surrounds your bodies, even the blackness that clouds your closed-lidded vision—all you can feel is him, his tongue in your mouth and his hands running all over the smoothness of your skin.
Suddenly, you feel your lungs aching, and you realise you need air. You try to pull away—but his face follows yours like he's a mindless dog, and you could've laughed at it if you had not been so stripped of oxygen. You need air and yet he's kissing you like you are his air—it's a fact that makes your cheeks flush red hot.
The only option you can think of is the next action you take—you squeeze your hand out of where he presses your chests impossibly close and entangle them within his damp, blonde locks—tugging backwards and forcing him to leave the slightest amount of space between your mouths, so you can gasp for air.
Your hand tugging at Kaiser's long hair, hard, and you hotly panting into his mouth—he'd rather be caught dead than admit this aloud, but it doesn't feel half bad.
Your eyes crack open slightly, and you have to choke down a laugh when staring at his expression. His face is flushed bright red—compared to his usual pale complexion—and his squinted cerulean eyes are clouded with unmistakable desirable passionate lust.
"Scheiße, hübsches Mädchen." He curses lowly, chest rising and falling erratically as he pulls you in even closer—if that were possible. You can feel every ridge and bump of his hard torso against you and the smirk that pulls across his lips makes your heart pound. "You make my heart race."
When your breathing starts to even, he closes the gap between you both once more, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down—you whine into him and he kisses you softly as some sort of minor apology—you'd never hear the word sorry come out of his lips, after all. His hand dips down to trace up and down your spine, while the other rests below your ass.
He slides his lips away from yours, down your neck and he rests his face in the crook between your neck and shoulders—pressing languid, open-mouthed kisses against the salty skin. His hair falls over his shoulder and trickles into the water like molten honey—it flutters around in the sea and he looks stupidly gorgeous like this.
Now that he's not blocking your vision nor taking over each of your senses, you can see now see the distant figures of your friends all playing together in the sea, including that of Isagi. He's talking together with the others and having fun while you're over here, making out with one of his most hated rivals.
Still, you can't find it within yourself to give it a second thought when his teeth sink into your neck, and his hands tighten around your upper thighs. He lifts his head after you whimper a little and push him back—he follows where your eyes lead and you're sure he also happens to see the head of your dear friend.
The smile that curls across his lips is nothing short of dangerous. "Oh, is that Yoichi? Are you worried about him seeing us?" You do not give him a verbal answer, but the way you look down and the way your lips tremble gives him everything he needs. "How cute. No worries."
He lifts his face and all you can see is him. His hair falls over his shoulder and his bangs tickle your cheek once more. His touch is undeniably soft despite the carnal look he sports in his sharp, angled eyes. "Why don't we give him a show, hübsches Mädchen?"
He whispers so delicately—you do not have the mind to shake your head no, nor do you protest when he slips his tongue between your obediently open lips once more, hands tucked around your hips.
Your heart will not stop pounding. Kaiser smiles at the fact that he is doing this to you. He smiles at the fact you are like mindless putty in his hands, and he smiles at the fact that he can feel bright blue eyes staring holes into him—there's nothing wrong with showing off, right?
© KENYUMMY 2024
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toxycodone · 7 months ago
Text
Deflowered. (Laios Touden x Reader)
content. virginity loss (laios), fluff. a metric ton of it. there's also emotional crying so. watch out.
reader's past/experiences/looks are not mentioned. I wrote this as more as an immersive means of sex with Laios, so physical and mental feelings are the main point. reader has a pussy (for the sake of writing) but this fic is still pretty gender neutral. If you are not a vagina haver/enjoyer/whatever you can gloss over it w/o much issue.
words like pretty/beautiful/etc. are used but in reference to reader AND Laios. gender equality or whatever.
author's note. This fic is one of my aforementioned stretch goals from my fundraiser for Palestine! So yay, thanks so much everyone for funding it!
word count. 6.7k+ (I went too hard on this.)
Like my writing? Toss a dono to the Palestine Children's Relief Fund and join the Fic Raffle! (I will kiss u fully on the mouth).
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“Laios…are you even into sex?”
It’s a question he never really saw coming, but now, five months into your relationship, it’s hitting him like a train. You’re looking at him with genuine curiosity, no judgment. It’s simply a question.
“Well…um…”
The blonde has to take a moment to compose himself before answering the question. Despite his closeness to you, discussion of such intimate topics does still escape him.
“I can’t say I’m not interested.” He speaks, now finding his hands much more interesting to stare at than your gaze. “I’ve never really considered how to approach the topic.”
“But you’re interested?” You lean forward a bit. “Do you want to have sex with me?” Usually, you wouldn’t think to be so bold. But conversations with Laios require a certain amount of directness. You don’t want to leave anything up to interpretation.
Laios’s cheeks begin to turn pink. He looks to you now, and it’s obvious the action requires a vast amount of courage from the man.
“I do. I’m…very attracted to you.” He admits.
It’s reassuring to hear him say it out loud. It’s been a long while since you’ve been lusting after him. Spending so much time without acting on it, you weren’t sure if you could take it much longer.
“Good.” You smile to yourself, before continuing. “So…are we going to do anything about it, or…?”
The last sentence is said more in a teasing manner. You’re hoping to break the tension between you and Laios a tad. However, he doesn’t seem especially moved. His gaze leaves you once more.
“I’ve…I’ve never…” He hesitates. “You’d be my first.”
That revelation has you shocked…at least, sort of. Laios is handsome and well-built, but he’s awfully busy. You weren’t surprised to be his first steady relationship, but to be his first time…? Not even a quick romp when he was in the military? Or moving with the caravan? That’s…surprising. But not totally uninvited.
“So you’re a virgin.”
Laios looks ashamed when you say it out loud. He knows that an average man of his age should have a plethora of experience under his belt.
“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to. I’ve never really had a chance.”
Laios’s face burns. It’s embarrassing to speak the truth. You must be disappointed to be with a man like him. A man, psh, if he can even call himself such…
Before his mind can continue its self-deprecating spiral, your voice cuts through the strife.
“I’d be honored to change that, if you’d let me.”
You keep your tone and demeanor sincere. You accentuate this feeling by placing your hand on his knee, reassuringly giving it a squeeze.
Laios looks shocked. Yet…happy. He’s happy. Of course. He should’ve expected this reaction from you. Why was he nervous in the first place? You’re wonderful.
“You want to…copulate with me?”
You snicker. Leave it to Laios to make things abruptly technical. Despite his interest, he’s clearly not fully comfortable with this situation just yet.
“Yes, Laios. I do in fact want to copulate with you. Very much so.”
And many more times after that, you think. But you’d keep that to yourself for now.
“Wow.” The blush on his face deepens. Laios stares at you for a few moments, before smiling.
“Then I’d be honored to have you as well.”
So here you are. After a few days of planning (mainly to ensure Laios’s comfort and preparation), you’re laid across his bed with him at your side.
The both of you took care to really set the mood. Falin’s not home, for one (thankfully she planned on spending this evening with Marcille), and Laios’s room looks a lot more inviting with the couple of candles lit up. It’s romantic yet comfortable. The perfect scenario for what’s bound to ensue.
You gently stroke the fabric of Laios’s nightshirt as you lay beside him. The two of you have been in this scenario multiple times before—often before an intense cuddle session or the occasional make out. This time the feeling was…new, even to you. The atmosphere is tense. 
“You okay?”
Laios looks at you. His pale skin is tinged in a rose hue, despite you two not even getting started yet.
“I’m nervous.” He admits. “I mean, I’ve never done this before.”
“I know that. You don’t have to be nervous. I don’t have any expectations, so, you don’t need to worry. I just want to spend time with you.” You press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want—“
“I want to!” Laios interjects. He looks almost startled as you by his own enthusiasm, then coughs awkwardly. “I want to be with you. In this way. I’ve thought about it a lot, actually.”
Now that piques your interest. He’s been thinking about you? You can work with this.
“You’ve thought about me?” Your fingers start to trail down his shirt, from his chest to his midriff. “What kind of thoughts, Laios?”
The man tenses, but quickly shakes it off. You notice his breathing pick up.
“Thoughts…of us. What this would be like…” Laios shifts a bit, his eyes follow your fingers as they dive under his shirt.
“Mhm…” You urge him to continue. “Mind if I take this off?”
Laios shakes his head. His night shirt comes off as easy as ever. You’ve seen him shirtless quite a few times, but the sight never gets old. You take a few moments to admire the pleasant softness of his upper body, before looking to him again.
“Go on.”
You work on unbuttoning your top as he speaks.
“I was wondering…” Laios’s train of thought seems to stall as you remove your shirt. His wide, golden eyes drink you in before he snaps himself back to reality. “How you’d feel. The noises you’d make,, I still can’t believe you want to do this with me.”
You roll your eyes internally. If only he could see himself through your eyes. He’d know if anything, he’s doing you an utmost favor by letting you deflower him.
“I can’t imagine who I’d rather be doing this with right now than you.” You lean to chastely kiss his cheek, before moving down his jaw. “You’re absurdly handsome.” Simply kissing his warm skin makes your stomach tie in knots. Gods, you want him inside you.
Laios’s breath hitches. A breathy moan parts the silence before he speaks again.
“You really think so?”
“I know so.”
Soft lips trail down his chest, then linger over the space near his heart. When you press your ear to his skin, you can hear the rhythmic thumps pounding against his ribcage. It makes you smile.
“You don’t have to be nervous, Lai. We can stop at any time. I won’t be mad.” You punctuate your sentence with a kiss to his heart.
Laios smiles, comforted by the gesture.
“I know. I want—well, I’ve wanted. To do this, though. For a while.”
He sits up a little to better see your face. You return his smile, then get back to work.
Laios gently starts to stroke your hair as you kiss down his body. His soft moans and whimpers fill the air. Under your lips, you can feel the skin on his stomach twitch and tense in between kisses.
You let one of your hands trail up his thigh. It doesn’t move towards his crotch just yet, instead, you settle to massage the flesh from over the soft linen of his night pants. You move towards his inner thigh teasingly slow.
The goal here is to rile him up as much as possible. Unlike other men, Laios isn’t just hard and raring to go from his thoughts alone. His own shyness and insecurities still hold him back. But, with his mind clouded with lust, Laios would be likely to let more of his inhibitions go.
After a little more teasing, you finally decide to dip your fingers under his waistband. His breath hitches when your knuckles accidentally bump his groin—even the tiniest moments have Laios reeling. You pause your movements to look up at him, doing your best to hide the smugness you feel.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbles, then brushes some hair out of your face. He’s smiling and his lips part, but nothing comes out. He purses them instead as if he’s debating something.
You raise a brow, which prompts him to keep talking.
“C-can we kiss? While you do this?”
He asks this almost sheepishly, and it’s enough to make you blush as well. Why the hell does he get to be so cute?
You nod, obliging his request by moving up the bed and leaning forward to press your lips to his. You can feel his lips curl into the gesture. He’s smiling. You swear he’s the most adorable thing in this world.
The lip lock starts out sweet. The two of you take your time to set the pace, pressing loving kisses to each other, before it grows more heated as your hand gently palms his bulge through his underwear. Each movement earns a gasp or groan from the man before you. It’s not long before you feel him start to harden beneath your grasp.
You pull away for just a moment to look into his eyes. Laios’s face is much more relaxed now. He seems to be more focused on the moment.
“May I?”
Your fingers dip below the fabric of his underwear, but don’t dare go further without affirmation.
Laios nods.
“Yes, please.”
He helps you shuffle off his night pants. In respect of fairness, you place his hands on your hips so he can aid you in removing yours as well. Laios bites his lip a bit, his cheeks now fully blooming with a rosy hue. The sight of your bare ass and thighs obviously has him excited.
Next is his underwear. You’re seated in between his thighs as you remove them. It doesn’t come off as eagerly as his pants, but when you press a kiss to his hip he’s more than happy to oblige.
His semi-erect cock is quite a sight to behold,\ It’s not abnormally huge or anything, but the fact that you’re finally seeing what you’ve imagined to be pounding into you for the last few months. The fact that is a part of Laios that no one else has seen—or gets to see— but you? You can barely stop yourself from drooling. You want this thing in your hands. Mouth. Ass. Gods, everywhere it can fit. He could split you in two and you’d thank him.
You spit into your palm, then grasp it. He’s warm and weighty in your hand. You can already imagine how it’d feel cradled by your walls. Your hand slides down the length a few times—earning a choked moan from Laios. It’s pulsing with life and solid now in your grasp. His foreskin moves with each stroke of your hand as precum starts to pearl at the tip, aiding in lubrication.
“Feels better when someone else does it, yeah?” You ask with a smile.
Laios merely nods, nipping his bottom lip.
“Y-yeah.”
Another stroke has him lying his head back in the pillow, groaning. His large hands fist the sheets. You take one and lie it against the back of your head, and almost instinctively, he grips your hair. However, it’s with the same power one may use to hold a sheet of glass. Eh, you think as he settles into this, Laios will eventually get it and get more firm.
You can’t help but give him an experimental lick. Laios makes an odd whimpering noise—but it’s clear it’s in pleasure—so you continue to taste him. It doesn’t have much of a flavor. It’s mostly just like licking his skin, it’s clear he washed pretty thoroughly before. His precum starts to add a bit of a salty tinge as you continue. You make sure to lick down to his balls as well. He’s got a pretty thick covering of blonde pubic hair–but the sounds he makes and the way he curls his toes makes you less than apprehensive to keep working your mouth.
Laios’s lewd sounds fill the air as you continue. His fingers gently brush your scalp for a few strokes, before finding their way to grip you tighter. When you give him a light moan, the reverberations shoot down his cock, and he fists your hair with more passion. 
You start to grind yourself against the mattress, but when that’s not enough, you seat yourself as well as you can on his knee and find some decent friction there. Pleasant waves of arousal course through you, down to your crotch as you start to get yourself off a little. This feeling, along with the feeling of Laios down your throat, starts to put you in a bit of a trance.
A desperate noise cuts through the silence. Laios gives a half-hearted tug and grits his teeth.
“S-stop.” He chokes out, causing you to still. You remove your mouth from his length, before giving him an absentminded stroke. “Please. I don’t wanna cum. Not yet.”
You fully remove yourself from him and Laios lets out an audible sigh of relief. You laugh lightly as he begins to regain his composure. That azalea hued blush advances down to his chest now. For someone who’s faced beasts twice his size and kept going, Laios already looks utterly finished beneath you now.
“Why don’t we take a little break, yeah?”
You move up the bed and kiss him on the nose. You know you want him inside you now. But as wet as you are from just grinding against him, you know you need to be stretched open a bit beforehand if you want to take him comfortably.
“Sounds good.” Laios kisses your forehead in return, gently humming. His shaky breaths are starting to return to a normal rhythm.
Now it’s your turn. You lie with your back down on the bed, then look over to Laios.
“Wanna return the favor while you recuperate?” You ask, looking at him unexpectedly. You don’t want to intimidate him or make him feel like he has to do anything at this point. However, Laios’s eyes light up. He eagerly shuffles to be between your legs, before moving to assist you with getting comfortable propped against the pillow on his headboard.
He looks mesmerized by the sight of you through your underwear. The slick on them doesn’t give much to the imagination of what’s underneath. He can barely see the head of your clit poking through as you spread open for him. The sight and smell triggers his overeager brain to lean forward and take a good, long lick.
You jolt a bit, but moan. Laios snaps back, then looks wide eyed at you.
“Sorry! I should’ve asked first.” 
He looks sheepish, but not entirely remorseful. You’d roll your eyes, but you’re actually kinda excited. Okay, it seems his nerves are dissipating now. This is good.
“It’s okay.” You move your hand to stroke his hair affectionately. “Do what you want. You can take off my underwear, too.”
Laios’s hands are shaky, but it's clear that’s from excitement. He licks you through your underwear a couple times as an experiment, making you tense, before finally removing them. The sight of you in front of him, finally exposed, makes his jaw drop–almost comically slow. He stares at you long enough to spark confusion (maybe even some nerves yourself), before he finally speaks up.
“What…exactly do I do?”
You snort. You almost forgot he’s entirely clueless.
“Here,” You spread your lips open for him to see. “It’s not super difficult. Anywhere you lick is gonna feel good. But you should concentrate more on these spots.” One finger points to the sensitive mound at the apex of your folds. “This is the clit. It’s the most important. It…kinda feels similar to me how it did when I was sucking on you. But…don’t get too crazy. The clit’s more sensitive, so you wanna be gentle.”
“Hmmmm…” Laios nods, following along with interest. His large finger reaches out and starts to stroke it lightly. You moan in response.
“That’s good. You’re getting it. But add a bit more pressure. That feels better.” 
He obliges, and you close your eyes with a smile. The added texture of his fingerpad is what adds more pleasure. That feels good. Laios notices your reaction, then continues. As he continues to play with the nub, he pulls back the head. This seems to enlighten him.
“It has a hood!?” He asks excitedly. “Is it more sensitive underneath?”
“Super sensitive.” You agree. “Again, be careful, don’t just–”
He’s not listening. He gives a gentle lick, then a suck, which has you shuddering. You moan out his name in your own choked voice. Your hands grip his hair. It takes willpower not to shove his face into you just yet. “Gods, Laios. You’re eager.” He chuckles, then licks at you again. You grind against his face in return, which makes him moan.
“You’re getting…slicker. More moist.” He remarks, then licks up some of your wetness. “It tastes weird. But good. It’s like I don’t wanna stop. Must be pheromones or it’s similar to how–…”
“Usually people say wet, Laios. Moist is not super sexy.” You chuckle. It’s important to cut him off now. His language along with incoming tangent would probably unintentionally kill the mood. “But it’s because I’m getting more turned on. You’re making me feel turned on.”
Laios shuffles a bit. You can tell he’s getting harder.
“I like that. I like making you feel this way.” He seems to be more confident now.
“Good, you can make me feel even better with your hands, too.”
He’s curious again. You open yourself once more, then point to the lowermost hole.
“That’s the vagina. The main entrance.” He nods, and you continue. “Before we go further, you’re gonna have to stretch me out. It’ll make everything else feel better and more comfortable for me.” 
He looks up at you with a bit of a frown.
“I know what that is.” He pouts. “I’m not entirely clueless.”
Oh.
You chuckle a bit, patting his head affectionately.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure. You’re a lot smarter than most guys.”
That seems to cheer him up, so you continue. You instruct him to slide one of his digits inside you. He does so, slowly and carefully as you command. His hands are unreasonably large. One digit is actually able to make you feel something as he slides it in and out of you. There’s almost no resistance as he does so, your slick coats his fingers and seeps onto his palm as you ask him to add another. You feel yourself stretch to accommodate them and moan in pleasure. Each movement he makes is extremely purposeful. It’s not just as if he’s trying to finger you, but also get an idea of just how you feel on the inside. The pads of Laios’s fingers gently poke and prod as they continue their movements. He’s enthralled by the texture and feeling of merely his fingers inside you.
“N-now…make like, a scissoring motion.” You ask, starting to feel that typical build up at the core of your groin. Laios gasps as he starts to stretch you out, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“The human body is amazing…” He speaks as if he’s entranced. “I wonder if I–”
His tongue moves to lick up your slit. You let out a wanton groan, then clutch his scalp. Laios takes this as a good sign and moves to lick at your clit like before. The stimulation along with him still fingering you has your breath stifling. You start to fuck yourself on his fingers and grind into his face.
“Just like that, Laios. Good boy…” You praise, not really thinking about what you’re saying. He whimpers into you, making you groan again. The little vibrations when he does that feel amazing. He continues to moan and whimper as he suckles at your clit. You can hear a swishing sound, something against the fabric of the linen sheets, and when you put two and two together you realize he’s humping the bed under him. 
Okay, as good as this feels, you need to put a stop to this. He’s gonna get carpet burn on his dick. And you’re gonna cum on his face and get too brainless to direct this virgin when he’s pounding into you. 
You pull him back by his hair, which Laios doesn’t fight against. His fingers still inside you. There’s a small trail of clear spit and slick that keeps his mouth connected to you. 
“Pull your fingers out. I wanna ride you now.”
He’s no longer hesitating. The way Laios scrambles off you and eagerly lies on his back is comical. You’re not exactly composed yourself, though. You’re just as ready to hop on and ride him until his brain goes numb.
Laios leans his back against the headboard with you seated in his lap. Your hips almost move on their own, sliding your entrance over his cock before grinding your clit against it. Just this has the two of you orchestrating a symphony of moans. The combination of slick, precum, and spit that forms between your legs and drools down your groins adds a barely audible wet sound in addition. When the cusp of your entrance catches on the head of his cock, you shudder.
You can’t wait anymore. And you’re sure Laios can’t either. You position his head at your entrance and give him a kiss.
“Are you ready?” You ask, pressing another kiss to his forehead. You want him to be sure. Not that you’d think he’d back out at this point, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.
“More than ever.” He responds breathlessly, then kisses you sweetly. You can taste yourself on his lips. “Do it, please. I want you.”
You’re sure to align him correctly, then sink down on his tip. Laios makes what might be the weirdest, yet hottest groan from deep in his throat, while his fingertips dig into your sides.
“Relax…” You whisper, ghosting kisses over his cheeks. You’re not fully composed either, but Laios is going to burst if you’re not careful. “It’s okay.”
He lets his face fall, but his shaky breathing continues as you fuck yourself on his tip, steadily opening yourself up to him. This is better than you thought. Much fucking better. Especially with Laios’s gasps and desperate whines in your ear. The heat that radiates from his body, causing the two of you to work up a light sweat. The way his muscles tense and jolt underneath your body. It’s driving you absolutely wild.
“Laios.” You moan, letting your head fall to the crook of his neck. You know this pleasure is brainbreaking for him, but it’s making you weak in the knees as well. The insides of your thighs burn with pleasure as you continue to take more of him into you. “You feel so fucking good inside me. You fit so well.”
One of his arms raises. His hand cradles your head, but his fingers grip your hair tightly.
“You’re so warm.” The last word falls out of his mouth like a boulder. He’s struggling to speak as if his mouth is filled with rocks. “So, s-so good…” He’s speaking through grit teeth, swallowing harshly like his throat’s suddenly coated with cotton. When you bottom out, resting your ass on his balls, he cries out your name. He almost comes unfurled beneath you at that moment. 
The act’s finally done. Laios Touden–No longer a virgin. He’s been deflowered by you. 
You bask in the moment. Despite your mind being clouded by pleasure, you take just a second to appreciate him. That ever growing flowery hue lights up his whole being now. Laios face, neck, chest…even parts of his arms and thighs are practically growing red. The rest of his pale skin is tinted with a hibiscus-pink color. Laios’s head is lolled back. His open mouth has a small trail of drool running from it. You lick it up happily, then meet him for a kiss.
“Look at me.”
Your command gently wakes him from his trance. Laios’s golden eyes peer at you lazily.
“You’re not a virgin anymore.” You chuckle, then kiss that broad nose bridge of his. He smiles and leans his forehead against yours.
“Thank you…” He breathes out. His eyes shine with adoration now. 
“I should be thanking you. It’s not every day one gets to take the virginity of someone as pretty as you.” 
Your compliment makes his breath stifle. You give him another loving kiss, which he eagerly returns.
You start to move now, which Laios responds to with a whimper. He tries to roll his head back again, but you wrap an arm around his shoulder and use your hand to direct his gaze where you two connect.
“Look at us.” You say between gasps. “The way we fit together. You were made for me.”
His brow furrows, but his eyes widen in awe. Laios’s hands remain perched on your hips as you ride him. He moves awkwardly to match you, but his thighs and legs betray him when jolts of gratification surge through him. He tries to cough out a response–something, anything–but can only manage a drawn, pitchy whimper. You let your eyes fall closed and set your forehead against his again.
For now, you let yourself enjoy the moment. You and Laios exchange breaths, gasps, and groans as you guide yourself up and down his length, then bottom out once more to grind your clit against his pubes and groin. Laios creates his own cacophony of odd noises that you can assume are due to pleasure, and they send swirls of delight through your brain and down your spine.
Each movement you make makes you crave more. More of him. The way he smells, sounds, feels–its all encompassing. It makes you want to consume all of him, drain him the way he’s drained your thoughts these past months. You could never imagine it’d feel this way. Laios isn’t gifted at sex by any means, but the emotional connection between you two is what heightens the physical aspect. Knowing you’re his first, how much he trusts you, desires you–it makes your mind cloudy. He belongs to you. You have him in the most intimate way possible now. An unforgettable moment for the both of you.
You clench around him and grit your teeth. It’s almost as if you’re telling him this now–he’s yours. The noise he makes when you do that is unnatural. It’s guttural–almost primal. 
“I’m gonna cum!” He chokes out, his body shaking with tension. You immediately stop your movements and relax. Not like this. Not yet, if you can help it.
“Hey, hey, settle.” You coo in his ear, now kissing whatever skin you can reach. “You don’t wanna cum just yet, right? I was hoping to give you the reins.”
Laios’s breathing is rapid, as if he just ran a mile. You coax him out of his stupor, trying to aid him in learning to contain himself. For someone with little experience, he does have a lot of willpower. With a little more time to gain his brain back, he’s able to get halfway cognizant and look at you once more. 
Your hips slide up, ever so slowly, and you let him fall out of you with a wet pop. That would’ve been embarrassing if the two of you weren’t so incredibly turned on. You hop off him now, then beckon him to climb on top of you. When he does, you anchor your thighs on his hips.
“I figured you’d wanna try your hand at this. Hold yourself up and I’ll give you a hand.” You prop yourself up a bit to look between your legs. Laios grabs his cock, and you help him guide it towards your entrance. “It’s probably gonna slip out if you’re not careful, so keep close to me.”
He nods and slides in without issue. You hum in delight at the feeling of being full again. You let Laios thrust his hips into yours a few times and his hefty balls smack lewdly against your ass as he does. He’s focused, biting his tongue a little as he tries to see which angle and speed gets a proper reaction from you. He’s cute. And the fact he’s thinking of your pleasure on an evening that’s supposed to be about him is endearing as well.
You beckon him forward, then lock your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, the typical missionary position. Laios keeps most of his weight on his forearms as he casually pumps into you. 
“You’re doing a good job.” You gently play with his hair and look lovingly at him. Laios always fills you with the warmest, fuzziest feeling when you look into his eyes. It spills out like water when you have him like this. “You’re perfect. Everything I could want in a man.”
Laios’s brows furrow. You can’t tell if it's in concentration or what. You kiss his forehead softly as his eyes flutter closed.
“You’re everything to me.” He says in a firm voice. His pace begins to pick up, his pelvis starting to dig into yours. “You. I–, I just…can’t believe you’re here with me. You’re so beautiful...”
He’s really picking up the pace now. It makes your grip tighten on his hair. Laios is losing himself in you, and you let him. His length barely leaves you before thrusting right into you again. Sweet words and strangled noises pool in his throat and tumble out with fervor. 
“I love you.” He whines. It’s said with enough devotion to make your heart ache. “I love you…Love you…” He gasps. You feel his cock twitch inside you. He starts to drive into you like a madman now. He has little tact, but you don’t mind. It feels good nonetheless to watch him fall apart before you like this. Feel him lose his composure just from the workings of your body. Your own peak starts to approach on the horizon. 
“I wanna stay with you forever. Wanna be yours.” His balls create a slightly steady beat as they slap against your bottom. The wet, squelching sound of your hole being pounded fills your ears along with Laios’s moans.
“I love you too.” You respond, letting your fingers comb through his sweaty bangs, moving them from his face. Words come easier since you’re still more composed than he is. It’s clear Laios is exceptionally vulnerable at this moment, so you tell him things he probably needs to hear.  “You’re so easy to love, Laios. Just by being you.”
That seems to do something to him. His head falls in the crook of your neck and his arms slide under your shoulders to pull you as close as possible. His entire weight now leaning on you knocks the wind out of you a bit, but you’re able to recover quickly. All you hear is jagged breaths and strangled cries as he pumps into you wildly. A wet warmth starts to gather on your skin. You think its drool. 
A few more desperate thrusts of his hips has him coming undone completely. It’s everything but graceful as Laios reaches his peak. It’s obvious his orgasm tears through him like he’s paper. Not only does he almost completely fill you, but his sounds are grossly guttural, and the way his body tenses like stone and curls into yours before he slumps against you is testament to that. 
You roll with it, though, and simply pet his hair, whispering sweet nothings to him as you do so. He shudders against you, hiccuping softly against your skin. As you bask in the moment, you feel your combined slick start to squeeze out of you a bit. It’s still warm, but it makes you shiver. You stayed hugged against Laios for a while before he finally starts to remove himself from you. 
You’re shocked when you catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are puffy, nose runny. There’s tear stains down his cheeks. He wasn’t drooling. He was crying.
“Hey.” You hold his jaw in your hands, frowning a bit. “You okay? What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t dare look you in the eyes. His nerves eat away as him as he sniffles. It’s a little bit of a pathetic sight.
“I-I don’t know. I just…you said all those nice things to me, and I just–” His tears start coming again, and you shoosh him. There’s a lot of hormones floating around. You’re sure that’s making him emotional, granted, on top of all his insecurities surrounding his own self-worth.
“I meant what I said. I love you, sincerely.”
Laios’s breathing starts to even out a bit, but tears still fall. He brings your palm to his mouth, gently kissing it.
“I know. But that’s what makes me feel this way even more. I just…can’t believe you’re with me at times. You’re so wonderful.” He looks at you with such adoration. It’s sickeningly sweet.
“You are too. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you could at least begin to understand how I feel about you.”  You continue to wipe his tears with your free hand. Laios shakes his head, almost in disbelief.
“I’ll never understand what makes you want to put up with me. But I'm over the moon that you choose to do so.”
“And I always will. Loving you is effortless. Stop referring to it like it’s a job. ” You casually flick his forehead to lighten the mood. Laios snaps out of his own head and returns to the moment with a soft “ow”, before beginning to laugh.
A laugh escapes you now. You sweetly kiss him on the nose.
“Now, stop crying, dummy.” You tease. “You’re gonna make me cry too,”
Laios chuckles as you wipe his tears. He grasps your wrist, then brings your hand closer for him to kiss.
“I’m the smartest man in the world if I’ve already decided I want to spend my life with you.”
So what he said earlier. He meant that. Laios sees a future with you…You start to feel a little overwhelmed by emotion now, but settle on squishing his face in your hands and pushing him away.
“Dork.” You chuckle. Laios’s laughter fills the room now. There’s so much mirth in the room, before he starts to look contemplative again.
“Wait…did you?” He raises a brow. “I couldn’t tell if you finished.”
Oh. Here comes the awkward truth. You weren’t expecting to get off and you had a lot of fun, but you’re not sure if that’s enough for him.
“I…no.” You answer honestly, but are quick to reassure. “It’s okay, though. Don’t feel pressured. You went through a lot right now, and I still had fun. I’m happy.”
He’s not.
“But I wanted you to…” He pouts. “You deserve it after what you did for me.”
You’re about to reassure him that hey, it’s fine. You could cuddle and just chill out, but you catch his curious gaze trail down to the shiny wetness of your crotch. If he’s willing…
“I mean, if you want…” You look up at him. “Only if you feel like it. I can show you how to get me off again. But in a different way this time.”
His brows raise, eyes shining with interest. He nods, now sitting up on his knees as if awaiting instruction.
You tell him to lie on his back and tell him about your plans. Facesitting is an entirely new thing to him, but he’s totally on board with the idea. He’s practically drooling as you describe it to him. The tension and eagerness builds up with a quickness. You hurry up and get your shins seated on either side of his head, ready to get this show on the road.
“This still alright with you?”
You look down at Laios. He’s staring at your wet, cum soaked pussy like it’s a gourmet meal.
“Fuck yes.”
That’s the first time he’s cursed all night. He must have a thing for oral. You’ll be sure to keep that in mind.
You lower yourself onto him, careful not to put all your weight on him just yet. Laios laps at you excitedly. He’s never been the most refined eater in the first place, and the way he sucks and licks at you is as if all manners flew out the window. Your thighs shiver as you let more weight onto his face. Holy shit. He seems to be a quick learner. That, or his enthusiasm to please shines through when it comes to oral. He’s so voracious it makes your head spin. 
You cry out expletives and start to rock against his face. Laios’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling your hips down onto him. You lean as much weight as he can take. It doesn’t seem like you phase it at all. 
With your slit flush against him, you can feel everything. His tongue dragging across your sensitive skin, diving into your hole as he lets you fuck yourself on it. Warmth builds in your core, making your jaw clench. You alternate between grinding your clit on his nose and letting him suckle at it. It’s phenomenal.
“I’m gonna…” You’re cut off by a moan. Your thighs tighten around his head. “Laios!”
He heeds your warning, now focusing on letting you ride his tongue. You grind your clit against his nose as you finally come undone, that warm familiar feeling spreading from your groin down to your thighs. Your legs clench around his head. The moan that you elicit from his lips while you do that has you shaking. 
When you’re ready, you climb off his face, flopping on the bed beside Laios. The two of you are spent. At least for right now. Laios pulls you into his arms, letting your head rest gently on his chest. As you lie there, the sound of his heartbeat lulls you to drowsiness.
“That was the best moment of my life.” He speaks up. “I just…” Laios laughs at his loss for words. He’s never been good with  them, but even finding one to describe how he feels right now seems like an impossible task. “I love you. I love you so much.” 
“Love you too.” You murmur against his skin. This was a lot, physically and emotionally. But you’re glad you did it.
“I feel like I could lie here forever.” His voice starts to taper off, as if he;s feeling wistful. 
“Mmmmm…” You mumble in agreement. Falling asleep with your face flush against Laios’s boob sounds ideal, before you’re reminded of the cool wetness between your thighs. It was sexy at first, but now it’s starting to grow uncomfortable. “I–We, gotta clean up, though. I feel gross.”
“I kinda like it.” Laios admits. “Being covered in you…us. It’s nice to see our fluids together.” His fingers brush between his own legs, gathering some slick between his fingers. “It’s kinda like slime. Man, I wish I could have those noodles again.”
You furrow your brows in disgust at first, but Laios’s words make you snicker. Of course, he somehow relates this to monsters. Then, to food.
“Well, the faster we get cleaned up, the quicker we can eat.” You begrudgingly stand on shaky legs. Laios is quick to steady you, before standing up himself.
“You’re right. I’ll pay. I owe you one after all this.” He kisses the top of your head. Laios starts to walk away towards the bathroom, but not before you land a decent smack on his ass. The man yelps, before staring at you wide eyed. The handprint that lingers due to how pale his skin is is comical.
“C’mon. You owe me a shower.” You kiss the underside of his jaw, then walk ahead of him.
Laios rolls his eyes and smiles, happily following after you.
2K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 6 months ago
Note
hi! i absolutely love your works, particularly your poly!marauders(w/lily). i think you write them so beautifully and harmoniously that you can't help but fall in love with them.
i wanna compliment you on your recent two-parter about remus and the whole revealing the werewolf thing. the angst to fluff had me on the edge of my seat. thank you for writing such a piece! 🤍
i hope its not too much to ask but in part 1, there's a brief mention of sirius receiving letters from i can assume is his family that lily confiscates and the group tends to love on him a bit more. let's say reader isn't in the loop about sirius' family life and she feels a bit sad that she can't comfort sirius like the rest can, and in general feels lost because it's another thing she isn't 'let in on'. i was wondering if you could write a little something on that? maybe some misunderstandings with a fluffy ending?
i hope this is something you're ok w writing 🥹 if not, its ok! still wish u the best always!
this is so sweet - thank you! & thanks for your request - hope you like it!!
pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5
poly!marauders + lily x fem!reader who find's her own way to comfort Sirius - 2.1k
CW: brief mention of Sirius' childhood, allusions to anxiety, our shy Hufflepuff reader, hurt comfort, Sirius-centric
There was this saying that you never really understood before.
Love makes you do crazy things. 
And while the definition of crazy may be up for debate, you’re quite sure it could be understood as acting completely out of character.
So here you were, acting completely out of character; voluntarily marching towards a secluded end of the library where three Slytherin’s were sitting that you had - up until this point - managed to avoid completely. 
But you couldn’t, wouldn’t, avoid them any longer; not now, not for Sirius. 
The dust settled relatively well after the news of Remus’ lycanthropy had been shared with you; the five of you seemed to find a sort of freedom in not having to hide from one another anymore. Remus could be himself, the other’s could love him appropriately, and you could too. 
But another one of those black envelopes with  a green wax seal showed up at breakfast yesterday, and the group delved into their usual hide-the-envelope-and-coddle-Sirius practice. 
Lily took the envelope and disposed of it, James and Sirius had a floo call with the Potter’s, and Remus’ mum and dad sent baked goods from Wales via owl. 
You had since gathered that these letters were coming from his parents, or at the very least from someone in the Black family; you had also gathered that the contents of the letter’s were hurtful or upsetting to Sirius. And even though he never got to read them, a heavy cloud seemed to form and follow the young ex-heir around. 
And your heart felt heavy; not because they were keeping anything from you, per se, but rather because they seemed to have a routine that didn’t include you.
And while you didn’t want to encroach in spaces that you weren’t necessarily invited in, you couldn’t help but feel like you should be doing more. 
Lily, James, and Remus all had something they could offer Sirius; they all had some way that they could support him. 
You didn’t.
And it wasn’t for a lack of trying on your part, but rather that no one seemed particularly inclined to burden you with any negativity. 
“Don’t worry about me, babydoll; this is standard Black stuff. I’ll be just fine.” Sirius had said when you asked if he was okay; his usual salacious smile significantly dimmed as it seemingly took the majority of his effort in his response. 
The others hadn’t been much help either; Remus and James effectively telling you that you were too sweet to have to worry about such horrid people, and Lily trying to assure you that they had it under control and not to worry - Sirius would be okay. 
And that was all well and good, but it wasn’t enough for you - it was about sodding time you started pulling your weight in this relationship.
So - with nothing more than the teeniest bit of courage you were sure you pilfered from your four Gryffindors and perhaps a healthy dose of delusion - you forced your feet to take you in the direction of the only person in the entire castle you thought might possibly be able to help you. 
“My, my, my; to what do we owe the absolute pleasure, little Puffle?” Barty Crouch Junior mocked as you paused at their table; Evan Rosier and Regulus Black picking their heads up to look at you incredulously and bemusedly respectful. 
“Did ya get lost there, L/N? Need me to find you one of your Gryffindor’s?” Evan taunted, earning him what looked like a kick in the shin from Regulus, though you couldn’t be certain on account of the table impeding your view.
“Erm…I-I was sort of wondering if I could speak with you, Regulus?” You managed to murmur awkwardly.
The three Slytherin’s seemed to have a silent conversation as they shared glances before Barty shrugged and Evan rolled his eyes; both standing and leaving the two of you some privacy. 
Regulus watched as you cast a hasty muffliato around the table - another trick you’d picked up from the Gryffindor’s - and as you helped yourself to a seat with your boyfriend’s younger brother. 
“Is Sirius okay?” Regulus asked quickly, his voice no more than an urgent whisper as he looked at you imploringly.
His intensity caught you off guard; you were so certain getting anything out of the notoriously stand-offish Slytherin would be next to impossible, but he had beat you to the conversation and seemed to be just as worried about his brother as you were. 
You remembered then why you liked Slytherin’s so much; you often found a kindred spirit in them, for one thing that a Slytherin valued most was a sense of loyalty.
Well, didn’t you have enough loyalty to use to your advantage. 
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You wondered rather belatedly if you had overstepped. It was admittedly too late to ask yourself this now; standing outside of the boys’ dorm with a package in your hand.
What’s done is done. You had a one-track mind, and that was to help Sirius.
With this, you raised your hand and gently knocked on the door.
It had been James to open the door; his jaw tense until he saw you, which seemed to cause his face to melt into an awkward expression you couldn’t quite decipher.
“Hi angel.” He greeted apologetically. “You okay?”
You were confused by his greeting, and his question, and the fact that he hadn’t moved out of the way of the door to invite you in as he usually did.
“I’m fine.” You responded quickly, trying to look behind him. “What’s wrong?”
James made a sound of discomfort in the back of his throat as he looked over his shoulder, still not moving to allow you entry. 
“Listen, sweetheart; I’m not sure now is a great time…”
“It’s Sirius, is it?” You asked quickly. His responding grimace proving your suspicions. “I need to see him.”
“Sweets, maybe you could come back la-”
But later wasn’t good enough, you see. You had a one-track mind, and that was to help Sirius.
So, in the name of love making you do crazy things and still acting completely out of character for you, you shoved your way past James’ hip, bending under his arm to allow yourself your own entrance to the boys’ dormitory. 
Lily sat at the end of Sirius’ bed where she had one hand resting on his ankle; her thumb stroking back-and-forth over his achilles tendon.
Remus sat against the headboard with Sirius in his arms; his lips pressed against his hair as he murmured sweet nothings to him.
And as you stepped closer, you could see an indent where James had been sitting, opposite of Lily likely serving the same support as your red-headed girlfriend.
“Siri?” You asked quietly, causing him to stiffen significantly before sitting up and feigning nonchalance.
“Hi doll.” He croaked then, wiping angrily at the tear tracks on his face and pasting on a smile. “Didn’t mean for you to see me like this. What’s up?”
You hated the faux blase act he was putting on for your sake, but you reminded yourself why you were here.
To help.
“I have something for you.” You offered quietly, procuring the parchment wrapped package and holding it out for him. 
“Awe.” He chuckled wetly with a sniffle. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”
“Well, I suppose I can’t take all the credit for it.” You replied, watching him pause in the process of opening to look at you in confusion.
“Open it.” You encouraged.
He finished ripping the parchment from the box before lifting the lid.
You felt your heart stop as the lid fell unceremoniously from his hands and a small gasp left his lips at the sight of the small, stuffed black cat sitting inside.
You’d spent the afternoon learning about the tail of two toys; Splash the cat and Padfoot the dog. The only toys the two young Black family boys were given came from their Uncle Alphard in the form of a plush cat and a plush dog; both with black fur as a nod to the family name and the boys’ hair colour. 
Even though Uncle Alphard had given the dog to Sirius and the cat to Regulus, the boys often traded, depending on their current circumstances. 
You learned that when Sirius went to Hogwarts, he had left with the cat. 
When he returned home after having been sorted into the wrong house, Regulus had given him the dog.
And when Regulus joined Sirius at Hogwarts only to be ripped from his brother - possibly for good - after being sorted into Slytherin, he pilfered the dog from Sirius and left him with the cat.
They never discussed those plush toys again.
And when Sirius fled Grimmauld place one horrible night in June between fifth and sixth year, he left with nothing but his wand, the clothes on his back, and his school trunk.
Left behind was poor Splash the cat.
Regulus - fearing his mother would go on a warpath and completely destroy everything in Sirius’ room - quickly grabbed the cat and had kept it hidden in his school trunk ever since.
Until today. Until now.
Now, he left Splash with you; trusting that you would return him to his person, the one who needed him the most.
“How…” Sirius whispered as he quietly pulled the plush toy from the box; hands painfully gentle as if the toy would simply turn to ash should he jostle it. “Where did you get this?”
“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re asking.” You tried to joke in an attempt to keep the moment light. Sirius simply turned his disbelieving gaze from the toy to you.
“You spoke with him?”
Suddenly, your fears that you had completely overstepped came flooding back; a nervous sort of nausea settling deep within your stomach that threatened to make this awkward moment horribly worse.
“I…I did- I didn’t say anything, of course! Because there was nothing to say, because I don’t actually know anything, which is fine too! I just…I couldn’t…well, you see, I just had to do something, you know? I couldn’t just-”
Your ramblings were (thankfully) cut off when the air nearly completely left your lungs as Sirius attached himself to your middle; his arms winding tightly around your body where they met in the middle of your back. You could feel the impression of Splash against your back from where he was still in Sirius’ grasp.
“I’m sorry if I upset you - I know it wasn’t my place, but-”
“You’re incredible.” Sirius whispered then. “I can’t believe you’d do this for me.”
“You’re not mad?” You whispered back, causing Sirius to pull away from you, only far enough to be able to look into your eyes with ill-hidden admiration. 
“My sweet shy girl; approaching Slytherin’s for me.” He murmured, causing Remus and Lily to snort and James to gawk.
“You did what!?” 
“You do know that a quarter of our school is made up of Slytherin’s, right?” You asked James then; Sirius pulling you back into his chest when you dared to remove your gaze from him.
“That’s entirely too many Slytherin’s, my girl.” James muttered, though he relented in his admonishment of you for your crime of daring to speak to your classmates in order to sit beside your other two lovers. 
“I can’t believe he gave this to you.” Sirius whispered; holding the cat up behind your back so he could examine it over your shoulder.
“He didn’t give it to me, Sirius.” You whispered back as you pulled away from him so you could look into his eyes. “You have a lot of people in your corner; more than you know.” 
His eyes seemed to well again, though he didn’t look nearly as heartbroken as he did when you first walked in, so you counted that as a win. 
“What did I do to deserve you, hm?” He asked then before pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.
You’re sure you could have counted at least seventeen ways in which Sirius Black deserved the nicest things you had to offer, but right now you were more focused on the feel of his lips against yours.
If love made you do crazy things, and those crazy things brought you to this; this being Sirius moulding himself to you as if he hoped he could make a home for himself inside of your soul, then you would happily spend the rest of you life mad as one could be.
You hadn’t fixed anything, not by a longshot; but you had helped, even if only just a little.
His lips tasted of salt and perhaps some sadness, but also of hope.
And for now, that was enough.
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harunovella · 11 months ago
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ love language (verse ii); s.g.
synopsis: when gojo satoru first interacted with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo and reader saving a kitten (a moment straight out of a romcom for sure), not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: truly didn't think the first part to this anthology series would gain such attention! thank u for that! again, these can be read as a standalone (or connected to this one, but you don't have to read it); enjoy and lmk if u want more!
It was this specific cherry blossom tree Satoru always found you under. The one Kento mentioned the first time he ever asked him about you. If you weren't busy with training or missions, or enjoying life outside the jujutsu world, he found you there. Although there was an array of trees, there was one specific one you seemed to gravitate towards. 
He wasn't sure if it was the specific spot that had good lighting for when you wanted to read or sketch in your little book, or maybe it was the way the roots formed a perfect spot to sit in between... whatever it was, he knew it to be your tree. Even when you weren't around. There was something... welcoming about it. Whenever he walked by with Suguru and Shoko nearby, or whenever he was aimlessly wandering around, he always found himself peeking in its direction, hoping you were sitting underneath it. 
For a confident young man, it took Gojo some time to make his way to you. Claiming to love you when he hadn't even uttered a word in your direction was bold, even going as far as believing you were his soulmate was quite the exaggeration. So why was it hard for him to simply say hello? 
Maybe it was because he wasn't a simple person. Nothing about Gojo Satoru screamed simple. He was anything but that. Yet, a task as easy as that—which came naturally to any other girl around him—was a hassle. Each time he thought he found the courage to step up, he let his racing heart deter him. 
That was until you made the first move. 
It caught him completely off guard, the way you gently tapped his arm from behind, peeking up at him with that sweet smile of yours. His heart did somersaults, his eyes widened behind his round frames, so big that his shades couldn't even hide them. He had been on one of his little walks, new treat in hand that Shoko bribed him with in order to practice her reverse curse technique on him. He was bored, completing his missions and not having much to train on when he already excelled at everything. 
At everything except talking to the girl of his dreams. 
"Hi," you kindly greeted, smile reaching your eyes. Oh, god, you were an angel. A being descended from up above. How could you exist so easily in such a cruel world? He needed to protect you, right? Even if he could see your cursed energy oozing out so brightly. You must've been powerful, something he never considered, always looking at you like you were some little bunny to keep in his pocket... not one who could possibly kick the shit out of him (if he'd let you and he definitely would). "Can you help me out?"
"Pretty..." the words slipped his mouth before he could even process them. Quickly sealing his lips and clearing his throat as you tilted your head, Satoru straightened his back. "What is it?"
Dismissing the sudden word vomit, assuming he was in his own world, you pointed to the left of you. "I sit under those trees, but I keep hearing soft meows coming from one of them. I'm too short to reach... do you think—"
"Yes," the white haired young man instantly nodded as you blinked. Without a second word, he turned on his heel and stalked towards the tree that you claimed your own. 
You, a bit baffled, were unsure as to how exactly he knew which tree you had been pointing at when it was a general direction. Yet, there he was, approaching the tree you were referring to. "It's quite high up, but you're very tall!" You called out before following after him, lightly jogging to catch up before stopping behind him as he eyed the tree. 
In reality, Gojo didn't think any of it through. He just wanted to say yes to be around you, to hear you speak more. Not... to climb up a tree to save a stray kitten. But, whatever made him look better in his eyes, he didn't mind. 
"Be careful!" You exclaimed as you watched him make his way up the tree, no hesitations. You were a bit surprised that someone so easily wanted to help you save a cat. Maybe he liked animals, too?
Or maybe he was a fool madly in love with you—you wouldn't know this yet. 
"Oh, there! You've got 'em!" You clapped as you watched the uniformed young man gently reach for and latch onto the small, white kitten. 
"Ah, don't worry, I'm only here to help you," Gojo said, carefully pulling the kitten towards himself. "I've got you, you're safe now. I just gotta figure out—"
"Watch out!" You shrieked.
"Shit!" Satoru yelped as he lost his balance, clutching the kitten close as he slipped from the branch. Landing with a loud thud, followed by several groans of pain (and pure embarrassment... when did he ever make himself look like a complete fool?!), Gojo rolled around with his eyes closed. 
"Are you alright?!" You panicked, rushing over and kneeling at his side, gently lifting his head with one hand as your other pressed carefully against his shoulder, eyeing his body for any wounds. 
"Agh... dammit..." he grunted, eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the brightness of the sun. Blinking a few times, blurred vision focusing, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you. Your hair that was usually held back by its ribbon, cascaded around your face as a few strands slipped out from the ponytail. With eyebrows narrowed and a look of worry on his face, Satoru's embarrassment turned into that of timidness. You were engulfed by the sunlight, glowing like the angel you were. "Gosh, you're so pretty..."
"Are you okay?" You asked in a panic, his mumbled words coming off too slurred to understand. "Did you hit your head too hard?"
Shaking his head as he forced himself to sit up, Gojo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "No, 'm fine..." he sighed before looking down at his hands to the kitten. "So is this little guy."
Turning your attention from the white haired young man, to the matching kitten, you gasped, "what a hero!"
Grinning and feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, Gojo shrugged, "eh, ''twas nothing..."
"You almost broke a few bones, though..." you frowned, looking back at him. 
"I'm tough," he brushed off before turning to face you. Now eye to eye, the sudden confidence instantly sizzled away as he gazed at you from up close. A sudden silence weaved between the two of you as your eyes locked, nothing but the sounds of nature and the kittens purring filled the air. "I..."
"Um..."
"You should keep it," Satoru suddenly said, handing you the kitten. "Deserves a nice home."
"Oh, me?" You asked as you took the kitten in your hands, caressing its soft, white fur. 
"Yeah, I wouldn't be a good dad," he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You... You'd be a great mom to it, I'm sure."
Eyeing the kitten, then looking back up at him, you smiled, "we can coparent."
At your offer, Gojo gulped. "Co... parent?"
"Yeah, like, help me out with..." lifting the kitten up, you squinted your eyes, "her."
"I... I don't know much about taking care of animals but I can try and help as much as I can," he offered, scratching his head nervously. 
Smiling, you brought the kitten close to your chest, "you saved her from a tree, I'm sure she will remember that."
"Yeah, maybe," Satoru blushed.
Looking down at the kitten as you pet her, listening to her gentle purring, you happily sighed, "what's your name?"
Quickly pointing at himself, the blue eyed boy asked, "mine?"
"Mhm," you nodded. 
"Gojo. Gojo Satoru. You can call me Satoru, though," he nearly blurted out as you chuckled before giving him yours. 
"Well, Satoru," you beamed as he melted at the sound of his name slipping off your tongue, "I think I'll name her after you."
"Wha— Satoru? But... she's a girl?" He tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows. 
"I was thinking of a nickname," you said before looking down at the kitten. "I'll name her Toru. It's cute, right?"
Nodding slowly, then faster, Gojo agreed. "Yeah, Toru is cute."
Lifting your gaze to meet his, you gave him a toothy smile. "Toru it is."
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strwberri-milk · 10 days ago
Note
hii can i ask u to write hc about boys when they say something in conversation that will hurt mc, for example when they will mention her appearance like rafayel in ebb when he said 'its round like u'. hope u have great dayy<33
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Zayne, being a doctor, has lots of opinions about some of your unhealthier habits. He doesn't share them all the time because he never wants to come off as nagging but you don't need him to say anything to know that he's staring at you judgmentally. He averts your gaze when you turn to him but it's already too late.
You feel yourself becoming demoralised, whatever you were doing totally abandoned as you decide to leave. Zayne knows exactly what happened, cursing himself for not keeping himself in check around you. He just can't help but worry, wanting to see you take care of yourself. The second you try to leave he grabs your wrist, apologising as he tells you it's just because he loves you.
He promises to use his words next time. You sniffle a little, deciding to act a little immature as you tell him that the issue is that he makes it very clear what he thinks. You'd rather him just tell you rather than look at you judgmentally, Zayne unaware just how it looked to you. Generally, he keeps his expression neutral but whenever it comes to you he wears his heart on his sleeve. Or he thinks he does - you've just become so attuned to him that you know what every slight quirk of his brow means.
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Xavier also does micro expressions that seem a little judgemental, generally whenever you say something he finds a little odd. He isn't sure if it's just because he's missing some context but when he does it one too many times in a conversation you begin to mutter an apology for boring him.
He's tripping over himself to try and correct you, wanting to tell you that it's not that he's bored, he's just struggling to follow the conversation. You confront him by telling him that even when he's following the conversation just fine he still makes faces at you sometimes. He's now forced to admit that he thinks he makes faces the more tired he gets, body subconsciously trying to get the conversation to end so he can go flop onto the nearest fluffy surface.
However, since it hurts your feelings he does his best to monitor himself, trying to be more active in your conversations. You can see how tired he is though, taking pity on him and telling him to go take a nap. You'll be there to infodump on him when you wake up anyway.
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Rafayel says things off handedly, especially when he's not feeling well. Normally you can take it well but today you just couldn't, his passive insult hitting you hard. He watches your face cloud over, brows furrowing as he tries to understand what this sudden shift in your mood is attributed to.
You make it clear it's because of what he said about you, the one statement being the straw that broke the camel's back. You ignore him, not wanting to even look at him as you walk away from him. You try to cool off, your mind spinning as his unintentional words play over and over again. It takes you a while before you can even speak to him normally and when you seek him out he looks like a scolded dog.
He immediately perks up when he sees you, apologising profusely when you come back to him. Despite being mad at him, you also know he provides the most comfort so you crawl into his lap and begin to scold him. He takes it in stride, knowing that he messed up and promising that he'll take better note of your mood to know when he should and shouldn't joke with you about things like that.
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Sylus has a sharp tongue like Rafayel but he sounds slightly more "serious" when he says those things. His voice doesn't lend well to jokes unfortunately, meaning that if you're feeling a little more raw one day then you're going to take his words seriously, just like today.
He doesn't let you run from him though - grabbing you and asking you what the problem is. You normally can take his teasing, returning it to him twofold. When you don't quip at him he knows something is wrong, waiting for you to use your words and tell him. He's patient whenever it comes to you thankfully, letting you take your time. You struggle in his grip a little, not wanting to tell him right away but the warmth he provides is just too good so you bury yourself in his chest, telling him that he hurt your feelings.
He coos at you sweetly, telling you how adorable you are and apologising by peppering your face in kisses. He hates making you sad and even if he doesn't overtly say it, you know he regrets it by how he's careful not to insult you if you don't start it first, using how you speak to him as a gauge before returning with some of his usual playful nips at you.
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layaispunk · 19 days ago
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a warm escape | joel miller x reader
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summary: joel comforts you when you're having a hard time back home during winter break.
pairing: joel miller x reader
warnings: age gap (25/35), mentions of smoking, mentions of a dysfunctional family & family conflict, fluff, pet names, mentions of reader having long hair
wc: 1.2k
note: This is a personal one, and its my first time writing in first person!!!! 🫶🏼 i hope u enjoy and let me know if u want a part two
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The chilly december air bit into my cheeks, my heavy breathing coming out like smoke. My nose was red and stinging, but it wasn't like I could spend another second in that house. Not with the yelling. I had to go for a walk for the sake of my mental health. I needed air, space - anything to gather my thoughts, and I was too angry to journal.
As I turned the corner, Joel Miller, my neighbor, was sitting on his porch with a cigarette glowing faintly in hand. He noticed me before I could pretend that I hadn't seen him.
"Cold out," he said, his voice a low rumble that somehow felt warm compared to the freezing air.
I nodded, pulling my coat tighter.
"You walkin' or runnin'?" he asked, tilting his head towards my childhood house.
I blinked. "Bit of both."
I wanted to go sit next to him. I didn't want to talk about what happened, but there has always been something fatherly about him, almost as if his presence would instantly make you feel better.
I hesitated for a second, the cold biting at my hands as I stuffed them into my pockets.
Then, without saying a word, I walked up to his front porch, and sat next to him. Joel glanced at me, he wasn't surprised at all. Didn't make me feel like I was bothering him, or intruding. He just held the cigarette out in my direction without a word.
I took the cigarette from his hand, the warmth of it was comforting against my numb fingers. Raising it to my lips, I took a small puff, and handed it back to him. It's been a while since I smoked last, but I needed it.
As if reading my mind, he mumbles, "You can keep it." Joel shook his head. "You doin' alright, sweetheart?" he said, his voice low and calm.
I glanced at him then, properly, really looking at him. The soft glow of the porch highlighted the crow's feet at the corner of his eyes. His hair was ruffled, dark brown and shiny, almost making me want to run my hands through it.
He didn't say anything else, just leaned back slightly, waiting for me to take the cigarette again.
Lost in thought, I wasn't sure what I was doing here, sitting on Joel's porch. Or, even better, I wasn't sure what I was doing here, visiting my family for the holidays, when I know things would never change. The same fights, the same bitter words ... It was hard to ignore the ache in my chest.
Joel must have sensed the shift in me, the way my gaze had turned distant, like I was in a place he couldn't quite reach. He didn't push it. The quiet attention he gave me was enough.
At that moment, his presence was enough. Breaking the fog of my thoughts, he placed a hand on my thigh, the weight of it grounding me, pulling me back to the present moment.
His touch was demanding, firm - but not aggressive. He was letting me know he was there.
Joel's voice cut through the air again. "You want to come inside for a cup of coffee?" he asked, his gaze steady on me. I liked the way he looked at me. Like he was seeing me. It was the first time that evening that I felt like someone was actually hearing me, like all the noise in my head faded away.
I nodded, the idea of a warm cup of coffee sounding like exactly what I needed. "That would be nice" I replied softly, my voice coming out really small.
Joel put out his cigarette on the ground, stepping on it with a quick motion before rubbing his hands together to warm them. Then, without a word, he reached for mine, his fingers warm against the cold. He pulled me inside, and as soon as the door clicked shut behind us, he wrapped his arms around me in a warm embrace.
The moment his arms enveloped me, my brain went quiet - like the world had stopped spinning for just a second. It felt safe. Secure. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t have to think.
He pulled away, his hands still resting on my shoulders, eyes steady. "You can stay here for as long as you’d like," his voice was soft. "You know that, right? You know Sarah wouldn’t mind. I wouldn't mind."
I smiled softly at him, and nodded. "Thank you," I whispered.
As we made our way into the living room, I found myself missing the feel of his hand around mine. It was strange, an unusual emptiness that I couldn't quite understand.
The house was quiet. Sarah was probably out with her friends. It felt strange knowing we had the house to ourselves. Most of the time, Joel and I had always hung out in group settings before, rarely meeting one-on-one like this. He had always been the protective, friendly neighbor, the kind who made sure I was alright- while keeping a respectable distance, never pushing.
When I had told everyone I was moving to London for my masters degree, Joel was the one who went out of his way to make sure I had everything I needed. He cared more than my own family had, making sure I was prepared, asking if I needed anything before I left. And even after I’d moved, he’d called me a couple of times—just to check in, to see if I needed anything from back home, or if I needed help with my apartment.
It made me feel… tingly, in a way I couldn’t explain, like someone actually cared beyond the usual pleasantries. I often wondered how he felt about me. I was young - ten years younger than him - but he never treated me like a child.
Joel made two cups of coffee, one for him, and one for me. He grabbed the mugs and started heading towards the living room. He glanced over his shoulder when he realized I hadn't moved, giving me that familiar smile. "C'mon, darlin'."
As I followed him into the room, my eyes caught sight of the guitar tucked in the corner. I wondered if he played often, or if it was just there for the rare moments when he has some time to himself. The fire crackled in the fireplace facing us, casting a warm, golden glow on the room. It was so peaceful.
Joel turned on the TV with a casual motion, then grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it around me, the warmth settling over my shoulders as I sank into the comfort of his brown leather couch. It smelled like him. I wondered if he needed this company the same way I did. Knowing he was usually by himself, ever since Sarah grew up - spending more time with her friends, leaving him by himself most evenings.
I leaned against him, quietly, as we both drank our coffees. After a few minutes, I felt his fingers gently brush through my hair. At first, I didn't notice it, or maybe it just didn't register it as anything more than a casual touch. But then, it became more intentional - his fingers slowly running through the strands, almost like he was testing the waters, unsure of how I would react.
I didn't pull away. My body was trying to communicate that I didn't want him to stop. His touch was so soothing, and before long, my eyelids started to grow heavy. My eyes fluttered closed, and before I knew it, I was resting against him, my breathing slow, as I dozed off.
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sweetblossomsss · 1 month ago
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I’ll be back || CHOI SAN
Synopsis: You don’t understand what happened for him to suddenly disappear. You don’t understand why the police tells you there is no one by the name of Choi San— as if he never existed. You don’t understand why he came back to you, five years later.
WARNINGS: one shot, cursing, crying (lots), ANGST (my fav), fluff, happy ending, SMUT, rough sex, choking, pet name of baby to Y/N, drinking, drunkenness, throwing things, San was affiliated with a gang, Y/N owns a gun, oral (f receiving), mentions of San’s gruesome crimes, back and forth between Y/N and San (ish), Y/N take San back way too easily (lmao), throwing up (only once), I’m sure I’m missing some stuff just lmk. Stay tuned for a POV of San coming soon :)
Word Count: 12k Started: February 2024. Finished: Nov 29, 2024
Blossom’s Note: Hello my petals, hope all is good. Coming at you with a Choi San one shot. Title was inspired by 2pm’s I’ll be back (chefs kiss song). Story was inspired by both the song and the line in John Wick when the father told the son that in order for him to get out, he had to do the impossible. Please keep in mind that this is no where near the same as the movie nor will any killings be mentioned. Now grab some popcorn and a drink and enjoy!
PAST
Silence takes over the room while the distant, muffled voices of your neighbors outside your apartment speak amongst themselves in the hallway, radiating some noise in the room. Dogs in different apartments barked at them, alerting everyone in the complex that people are walking by. Soon the faint sounds of keys jiggling can be heard as they stepped into their respective home and then—complete silence.
The room was dimly lit by your lamp with a fading bulb on its last life—that you always forget to change. You laid on your stomach, resting your head on your arms that was propped on top of your cushioned pillow as you slowly kicked your legs up and down, staring into his eyes as if you were locked in a trance by his gaze.
His fingers traced caressing patterns on your back, making you bit your lower lip gently as you felt the goosebumps form on your skin. He was lying on his side, his hand propped up to hold his head as he other hand roamed your back lovingly.
He gives you a small smirk, nodding his head to signal you to get on top of him. “Come here.” He said in a low voice as he laid on his back, placing an arm behind his head to get a good view of you on top. His favorite view.
You felt giddy inside, smiling as you got up. You quickly threw a leg over, straddling him. He wasted no time in gliding his free hand from your thigh to your ass giving it a slight squeeze. You placed your hands on his chest for support to which he slide the same hand up your arm and cups the side of your face.
You two stare into each other, all mesmerized as he caressed your cheek with his thumb causing you to lean into his touch. You closed your eyes, feeling the comforting warmth of his hand radiating on your cheek.
“You’re so beautiful.” He said in a sweet voice. You opened your eyes to catch him already looking into your eyes. “I could stay in this moment forever,” he said watching you slightly turn to the side as you kissed his palm. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him as you ghost your lips over his, “Just you and me.”
Oh, the way your stomach flips at his words especially when he talks in a low tone. He removes the hand behind his head, placing both of them under your shirt wanting to feel your skin, scrunching up your oversized shirt a little bit from his caressing movements.
You hummed in agreement, “Just you and me.” You repeated, pecking his lips once, “Forever.” You said before leaning back down to capture his lips. You feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, wanting to feel you closer—if that was even possible.
You moan slightly into his mouth, feeling the kiss starting to pick up. He cups your ass, giving it a nice squeeze as you raised your hand up to his hair tugging slightly making him moan in delight. Just as this moment was starting to heat up and get spicy—“Let’s runaway.” He breaks the kiss.
You looked at him, he was panting slightly trying to catch his breath as his eyes gleamed a bit. You panted as you sat up, tilting your head to the side, “What?” You asked with a playful smile on your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows.
Did he really leave you hot and bothered to say some stupid shit? Leave it to San to cockblock the fuck out of the both of you with his random thoughts.
He sits up, adjusting himself underneath you as he wraps his arms around your waist again as your hands make home in his hair as you caressed it. “You heard me,” he said, “let’s runaway. Just you and me, mm? What do you think?” He said ask he peppered kissed on your neck.
You chuckled at his words, tilting your head more as he kept leaving kisses on your neck down to your collarbone, “what I think is that you’re dumb. Did you really stop us for that?” You laughed, reaching to cup his face as you looked down at him. He nodded, “I’m being serious!” He pouted at you.
You sighed. “Okay. Say we were to,” you say playing along with his idea,“where would we go?” You asked him, leaning down to kiss away his pout.
He looks back and forth between your eyes, smirking as he flips you onto your back causing you yelp in surprise. “Anywhere you want to go,” he grabs your legs, wanting to feel them wrapped around him, “Whatever you want,” He says leaning down to kiss you on your lips. “I’ll do it for you.” His kisses trail down to your jaw. “Anything you want.” Down your neck as he caressed your leg.
You licked your lips and slightly moan at the sensation. “Mmm, anything?” You asked him raising an eyebrow as you tilt your head to look at him. “Anything, baby.” He looked up from the crook of your neck.
You shook your head, “You’re so silly. You know we can’t do that.” You smiled at him but then turned serious, “Plus can you even afford me? I’m quite expensive.” You lifted your hand up, examining your nails acting all snobby like turning your head to the side.
He pauses for a second, sitting up. He scoffs, “Excuse me?” Hand on his chest feigning to be offended.
You looked at him and eyed him up and down, playfully judging him and shrugged, “I have expensive taste and demands that need to met.” You said crossing your arms.
“Hit me with whatever you want. I can afford it.” He extends his arms out to the side as if saying do-you-know-who-the-fuck-I-am.
You scoffed, eyeing him up and down, “I don’t want to work.”
“Done.”
“I want to be a housewife.”
“Done.”
“I want different color Lamborghinis to match my moods for the day.”
“Done.”
“I want a private chef. I want to be carried everywhere.”
“Done and done.”
You two stayed silent, looking at each other with a serious look before bursting into laughter. The laughter you two created sounded like the most beautiful music to your ears. You loved having these silly moments with him.
While the laughter subsided, San places his hands on each side of your head, leaning forward. ”Y/N,” He says, your hands slide up and down his muscular arms. “Let’s just do it, huh? We can go and get married,” He places a kiss on your lips, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “we can have six kids-“
“Six?! The fuc-“ you cut him off with widen eyes, raising both of your eyebrows.
“They will have your sparkling eyes, your beautiful smile,” he cuts you off, ignoring you which caused you to roll your eyes, “they can have my nose, maybe my eyebrows or ears. We can raise them the best we can, we can put them sports, watch them get married, travel when they all leave the house, be the best grandparents ever-“ he cuts himself off as he clears his throat, feeling a bit saddened, but you’re too distracted by his story to catch onto it. “We can grow old together and be buried next to each other. With that, we stay together forever.”
You cup his cheek, “Seems like you got this all figured out, huh?” You smiled at him. “How did a girl like me get so lucky?”
“Oh, baby,” he said in a matter of factly tone, “With me you won’t have to think or worry about anything.” He smirked at you, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it.
There was a moment of silence as you two looked into each other’s eyes all in love. But then San got off of you which made you confused as you furrowed your eyebrows. “San? What are you doing?” You asked him, confused by his actions as his back faces you.
You sit up and sat in the middle of the bed, about to reach out of him but took your hand back abruptly when you saw San turning around and giving you a serious look. He suddenly gets down on one knee. “Y/N,” he said in a serious tone, causing you to cover your face as you fell back laughing, “San, what are you doing?” You asked him as you sat back up with a huge shock smile on your face.
“Y/N,” he repeats again. He inhales and exhales, closing his eyes before looking back into your eyes. “Baby the second my eyes laid on you, my heart knew that you were the one I wanted to spend forever with. I want to wake up and have your eyes be the first thing and the last thing I see. There aren’t enough words to describe the love I have for you.”
You feel yourself getting teary eyed as you scoff out a smile, not believing that he is doing this. “I know, I don’t have a ring right now, but trust me when I say that when I do get it, it will have the biggest gem that represents the immense love I have for you.” He said watching you sniff up your tears. “Will you marry me? Because I don’t want to do life without you.”
You gasped at his words, crying for a few moments before sniffing up your runny nose as you used the back of your hand to wipe your falling tears, “San,” your voice cracks out, as you placed a hand on your chest. “Yes!” You breathed out a smile, “Yes, I will marry you.”
He finally exhales a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Yes?” He asks you as he broke out into the biggest smile ever and you nodded quickly, “Yes, San, yes.” You repeated as he helped you stand up.
He picked up, you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist as he spins you both around in his arms. You leaned your forehead against his, “You scared me,” he said, “What took you so long in answering!”
You kissed his pout, “I’m sorry,” you laughed, “I had to make sure. You know I’m expensive.” You joked.
He gives you a deadpan look, “Really?” He said in a monotone voice causing you to burst out into laughter as you leaned your forehead against his again, cupping his face, “No, my idiot. I just couldn’t believe this was happening. I’m going to marry my soulmate. I’ve never been more sure in my life.”
“You’re the one for me,” he said looking into your eyes. If you weren’t so high from the moment, you could’ve sworn there was sadness in his eyes. “I just- I don’t want to wait anymore.” He cleared his throat, “You’re the one for me, Y/N.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he repeated himself.
After a minute, he clears his throat, “Now,” he says as he tosses you on the bed causing you to yell in shock as you sit up and give him a glare. He takes off his shirt and throws it somewhere behind him as he spreads your legs, ignoring the pissed off look you have with a smirk on his face, “Should we start with baby number one? Or will we get lucky and have triplets first round?”
“San-“ he cuts you with the smirk still etched on his face as he kissed you. He knew damn well you were gonna bring up the topic of six kids, but that’s for another time. Right now, he wants to cherish this moment with you. Just one last time.
You hated how easily he captivated you and how easy he had you under his finger. Without trying to break contact with you, his hand struggles to turn off the light as he taps everything but the switch. He groans in frustration as he sits up and slams the stupid button off causing you to laugh at his impatience. Finally, the light was off.
As he leans back down kissing you, he is mentally tattooing everything about you throughout the night—your lips, your melodic sounds, your breathing, your heartbeat, your gentle and rough touches, your curves— Just everything before it was time.
It was late at night as San stood near the bed, watching you sleep. He was dressed in all black, prepared to leave but not before he says goodbye to you. The sheer curtains let the moonlight seep in, casting on your face. The light snores you made were music to his ears. It cause him to gently chuckle bittersweetly as tears blurred his vision.
He remembered all the times you argued with him saying that he was liar, telling him that you don’t snore. It hurt knowing this would be last time hearing them— last time seeing you.
He slowly and gently takes steps to you, leaning down as he removes a few strand of hair from your face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers to you, “I have to go.” He kisses your forehead gently, “I love you so, so much.”
He stiffed up a bit when he saw you stirring in your sleep but exhaled in relief when you stopped and went back to your light snores. He glanced at the clock on your night stand and read 3:00AM. It’s about that time. He looks down as he felt his tears coming in, “Please forgive me.” He pleads quietly, sniffing as he looks at you. “I’ll be back.”
One last kiss on the forehead and he slowly gets up and walks to the door. And just like a switch, he walked down the hall, sniffing up those tears as he moved his head side to side, cracking his neck as a more serious, deadly look appeared on his face as he disappeared from the apartment and into the night.
Ugh, you really have to change those sheer curtains that blocks absolutely nothing because right now the morning sun was shinning right in your eyes, stirring you awake. You leaned on your back, one arm covering your eyes while the other reached out to touch San but was met with a cold, empty side.
Eyes still covered, you moved your hand around to try and find his body but let’s be real, this was no California King size bed. Either he fell off the bed or simply, he isn’t here. You removed your arm from your eyes and turned to the side and confirmed that he wasn’t there.
You furrowed your eyebrows as you slowly sat up, bringing the blanket to cover your bare chest. “San?” You called out to him. Maybe he’s in the living room. You waited for a response but nothing.
You sighed as you removed the blanket off your body, shivering slightly from cool air as goosebumps formed on your skin. Maybe he didn’t hear me. You grabbed your shirt from off the floor, putting it on as you walked to the living room. “Sannie?” But you were met with an empty living room—an empty apartment.
You removed your tucked hair from your shirt as you pursed your lips, crossing your arms, “This man is going to be the death of me.” You didn’t think much of it—well, kind of— San does this all the time. Whether it was for work or hanging out with friends— whatever it may be, it was normal for him to do. Yes, you have gotten into multiple arguments over it. Yes, he says he will try. But there are times that he forgets to tell you—like today.
You walked back into the room grabbing your phone, unplugging it from the charger as you tapped on the screen but no notifications. “Really?” You sucked the back of your front teeth, feeling annoyed as you shook your head. You unlocked your phone and dialed his number, running a hand through your hair as you hear the dialing tone.
“The number you have dialed-“ you sighed in annoyance as you hung up the call, opening your messages. ‘Thanks for letting me know that you were leaving :)’ and a ‘call me when you can. Love you asshole.” You sent to him, but it came back as message failed. Great, now his phone died.
You threw your phone on bed, “Whatever.” You say as you walked out the room and headed to the bathroom as you started to get ready for the day. Another great thing about San is that he is not the most dependable with his phone. His phone is either dead or lost between the sofa cushions. He truly can’t pick a struggle.
But you know what, at the end of the day you love him and all his aggravating faults, no matter how many times you want to strangle him. That’s your fianc��. Indeed it is. And it has you smiling like an idiot as you brushed your teeth, looking at your reflection. You guess you’ll keep him.
As the day went on, it was still radio silent on San’s part. You kept checking, calling, texting but it was to no avail. San may be dumb when it comes to how he handles his phone and where he’s going and whatnot but he never fails to call you and let you know where he’s at or how he’s doing—even if that means calling from a strangers phone. Yes, you were confused that one time a random ass number kept calling you.
You couldn’t help but get this feeling that something is wrong, so here you are pulling up to his job and checking to see if he’s there. You parked and inhaled and exhaled, keeping the nerves at bay as you grabbed your things and headed out of your car.
‘The Tire Shop’ came into view as you made your way to the door. Maybe he’s busy and you’ll forgive him for now and yell at him later. As soon as you opened the door, you winced a bit at the car drill radiating throughout the shop as you looked at the men working on cars.
You watched as a man passed by you, rolling at tire to a car he’s fixing on, having the smell of oil and sweat fill up your nostrils. You gripped your purse strap as you looked around to spot if San was talking with someone or working on a car but nothing.
You were too caught up scanning for San that you didn’t even notice an older gentleman approaching you. “Ma’am?” He calls to your attention as he wipes his hands on a dirty rag, removing excess grease. “Anything I can help you with?”
“Oh, sorry,” you chucked nervously, stepping a bit closer to him. “Yes. I’m looking for someone. Is San working today? Did he come in?” You asked.
He tilted his head to the side, giving you his ear as he gets a bit closer to you as the drill goes off again, “I’m sorry. Who?” He yelled through the sound, eyebrows furrowed.
“San. Choi San.” You repeated a bit louder, leaning in slightly to his ear. “H-Have you seen him?” You stuttered a bit, feeling nervous.
“Choi San?” He repeated with confusion in his tone, tilting his head in confusion. “I’m sorry but nobody of that name works here.” He said shaking his head, tucking in the dirty rang in his back pocket.
You froze, feeling your blood go cold. You let out a nervous laugh, “That’s impossible,” you said reaching into your purse and showing your lock screen. “He’s been working here for five years.” The man squints his eyes, adjusting his poor vision to see the photo of San. “Are you sure?” You asked him in disbelief.
He nods his head. “I’m sure, ma’am.” But seeing the desperation in your face, he sighs turning around to yell out to one of his coworker. The coworker stops and gives him a stank face of what-do-you-want? The man asks him if he’s heard of a Choi San working here but the coworker just shook his head, getting back to work.
“Well, there you have it. Is there anything else I can help you with today?” The gentleman asked you as your heart dropped.
You slammed that door open as you rushed out, fumbling with your car keys in hand as you made your way to the car. You slammed your car door shut as you gripped onto the steering wheel, “What the fuck is going on?” You asked yourself, with a shaky breath, hearing a high pitch ringing in your ears.
You looked at your purse that was still clinging onto your arm. You quickly opened it, rummaging through it as you searched for your phone, messing up password multiple times as you rushed to unlock it making you groan in frustration.
“Come on come on.” You whispered to yourself as you dialed his number waiting for him to pick up but it went straight to voicemail. “Fuck!” You screamed out as you threw your phone on the dashboard.
You leaned your face into your hands, feeling anger and confusion swimming in your mind. Are you going insane? What the fuck does this man mean that he’s never heard of a Choi San? You start to get flashbacks of when you dropped him off, him literally coming out of the shop, having lunch with him right outside on the benches— Just what in the fuck is going on?
Fuck this. You backed out and drove to the police station. You knew San like that back of your hand. From small details such as calling or texting, even if he doesn’t do it in the moment, he NEVER forgets. And now you’re being told that he has never worked there? For the past five years? Bullshit. Something bad is happening and you sure as hell aren’t going to waste anymore time.
You were spaced out thinking about the whereabouts of San as you sat in-front of a desk, waiting for an officer. You gnawed on your lower lip, bouncing your leg rapidly from the nerves. “Miss Y/N?” Your head snapped to the side to see a female officer approaching you with a comforting smile and water.
You stood up and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Officer Lee.” She gestures to the seat you were in, “Please, sit.” She places the cup in front of you, mumbling a thank you to her as you took a sip of water.
“Thank you so much for meeting with me.” You tell her as you adjust yourself in the seat. “I just didn’t know what else to do and I just- I don’t-“ you felt overwhelmed, losing your words.
She reaches over the table and places a comforting hand on yours. “It’s okay. You did the right thing by coming here.” She smiles once more, removing her hand to grab a pen and opening her notepad. “Why don’t we break down your day today. From when you woke up to now.”
You nodded as you inhaled and exhale. You quickly got to work. You told her how you woke up and he wasn’t home, how he’s basically irresponsible with his phone, how his job all of a sudden tells you that he doesn’t work there. You also mentioned every single detail of San. From his hair to physique, his full name, date of birth, no family, all of his habits, photos of him—you didn’t even forget to mention how just last night he proposed to you.
Throughout this Officer Lee was jotting down everything you told her, asking some questions to expand on certain things. “And that’s everything I know.” You sighed in exhaustion, sniffing as you wiped some tears with tissue paper.
“It was perfect. You gave us all information possible to make this a clear and proper search.” She nodded as you as she closes her notepad and placing her pen down. “I know this is tough for you, but I can assure you that we will do our best to figure out what happened.”
You faced down with your eyes closed. “What if I’m being dramatic? But at the same time what if something happened to him? I just don’t know-“
“Listen to me,” She cuts you off. “You know San better than anyone. If you feel that something is off then something must be off, okay? Plus, one doesn’t suddenly not work at a place he’s been at for five years.” You sniffed and nodded at her.
She stands up, which causes you to also stand up, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. “In the meantime, go home and continue with your regular routine. I know it’s easier said than done, but please try. We will handle the rest and keep you updated.”
You nodded and shook her hand once more. “Thank you so much Officer Lee.” You tell her. “I very much appreciate it.” And with that you made your way out the station, pushing the door as you stepped out into the breezy night. You entered your car and leaned your head back, feeling a sob coming out once more. Where did you go, San?
Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months since you last saw San. Every single day you call the police to get an update but it was the same fucking vague answers. It’s as if they rehearsed the same lines over and over just for you. You felt as if you were past the point of insanity.
All you just want to know is if San was alive or not. You just want to know if there was a single trace of him anywhere in this damn world— just something. All you just wanted a peace of mind.
Here you go again, on the phone with Officer Lee, who quite literally has the patience of an angel with the way you be calling everyday—some days with more attitude than usual. “Miss Y/N, as I have said before,” she sighed, “I don’t have anything. I will call you when-“
“When you have an update.” You finished the sentence with her. Today, you just so happen to have that attitude. “I know. I just-“ you cut yourself off as you sighed and rubbed your forehead, walking back and forth in your living room.
“I just want to know if you found anything. Even is that anything is so small, I don’t care. Just anything please.” You begged her. “Like why would he lie to me for the past five years about his job? Why would he propose to me and envision this life with me only for him to leave?” You asked her on the verge of tears, exhaling a shaky breath.
These are all the same questions you’ve been asking her for months. You sound like a broken record at this point, but what can you do? You never thought this would happen to you. Deep down you know the only one who can truly answer this was Choi San.
Officer Lee rubs her forehead, staying silent as she listens to you. She too feels heartbroken for you. “I’m sorry.” You whimpered out, sniffing. “I’m just desperate. I feel like I’m going insane. It’s been months and there’s no update. I don’t know what to do with my life anymore.” You vented to her, feeling your heart slowly break apart.
There was a long, long pause on the phone as you cried. Just as soon as you were going to ask if she was still there— she spoke. “Y/N, listen to me and listen closely because this will be the only time I will be mentioning this.” Officer Lee looks at her surroundings and figures there’s too many people so she heads to a vacant stairway.
You froze at her words. Her tone sounded completely different. “I’m not allowed to speak about this, but I can’t keep letting you live like this.” You froze at her words, “There is no record of Choi San.”
You opened your mouth but no words came out feeling completely confused as you shook your head in confusion. “A few months back, I was able to find something on him. Just a small trace of his location. He was seen walking around town, nothing too suspicious. But,” she pauses. You feel your heartbeat in your throat, “the following day when I went to check the video surveillance once more, it was gone. Wiped off. When I went to search him up, it said that there was no record of Choi San.“ She said. “It’s as if he never existed.”
Your heart dropped, you felt the room spinning. “Wh-What?” You managed to let out, “As if he ever existed?” You repeated her words in disbelief. “What? Why would anyone do that? Why would that even happen?”
Officer Lee looks up the stairs to check if anyone was coming and below before leaning her back on the wall. “Can I tell you something?” She whispered into the phone. She can sense the overwhelming feeling of hurt and confusion.
You closed your eyes, feeling tears falling down your face. You bit your lips, nodding even though she couldn’t see you. “Yes?” You answered quietly, feeling your fear taking over.
“As someone who has been working in this industry for a long time, it can only mean one thing,” she says, “this man was involved in something very dangerous.” You felt your knees give up as you held onto the sofa. “Whoever this Choi San is, he disappeared for a reason.”
“Who is he? What has been done?” You asked frantically, feeling the hairs stand behind your neck. Who did I lie in bed with?
She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She sounded defeated. Truthfully, she did not know. She knew that this was not the first time someone has just up and disappeared off the Earth. She knows that there are some evil deals made behind closed doors with the police department.
“Why would he do to me then? What am I supposed to do?” You asked her choking out a sob as you angrily wiped that tears off your face.
“If I were you, I would leave.” She said serious. You were taken aback. “Y/N, you don’t know this man. He is not the man you thought you knew. Trust me. Please. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”
You felt numb at this point. What else can come in and ruin your life at this point? “I will call you if I have find something. Until then, please take care of yourself.” And with that you heard the hang up tone, leaving you alone once again.
You stood there in silence, dropping your arm down along with the phone. The sound of the phone hitting the floor rang in your ears. San? Dangerous? No. It can’t be. All of these thoughts rapidly came at you at once, making it seem like a million of voices are in your head.
Soon everything just went blank and something within you snapped. You went to the fireplace and hand swipe everything off the counter, screaming in anger. You cried in misery as you grabbed a picture frame and chucked it to the wall, watching the glass shatter at the impact.
You swiped everything off your dining table, flipping the table in frustration. His absence only worsen the betrayal you felt within your fucking bones. You stood in the middle of the living room starting to laugh. Laughing hysterically as tears dwelled in your eyes.
Everything you knew for the past five years was a lie. A waste of time. Your laughter subsided to agony as you fell to your knees, unable to control this painful heartache. You sobbed uncontrollably as you clutched onto your chest wanting to take this unbearable pain out of your heart.
Fucking San? A dangerous man? The same idiot who was afraid of flipping food over because he was afraid of the hot oil? The same idiot who would drink water from his hands because he was lazy to get a cup? The same idiot who wanted to raise a family with you? No. This can’t be happening.
You leaned forward, placing your hands on the floor as you leaned on them for support as your body shook from your cries. It hits you in that moment if he knew what he was asking when he asked you to runaway. All that you envisioned is gone, just like him.
It’s later in the night, and you’re in your kitchen drunkenly stumbling on your tippy toes as you kept your balance to reach into the top cabinet for yet another wine bottle. You finally reached it, popping open the bottle and pouring more in your glass. You take a sip as you close your eyes, feeling this temporary relief soak up in you.
You grabbed the bottle and turned to face the living room, eying the mess you created earlier. You’ll deal with it later, you thought to yourself as you took another sip, walking through the mess as you headed straight to your room.
You sat on your floor staring into the open closet with swollen, bloodshot eyes. You took a sip feeling your eyelids getting heavy from the crying and the alcohol. You placed the cup down, grabbing the bottle and poured some more wine without taking your sight off his side the closet.
Judging from how you heard the cup filling up to the brim, you stopped and placed the bottle down. You sighed as you licked your lips. Well, might as well start moving his shit out. You drunkenly got on your knees and crawled to the closet and sat on your knees.
You reached up and yanked off one of his shirts from the hanger, watch it swing from the harsh pull. You brought the material up to your nose, inhaling it. Though your nose maybe be stuffy from the crying, his scent was so strong. You bring it up to your cheek, wishing it was his touch— his warmth.
You opened your eyes to a blurred vision. No, no tears right now. You turned around and reached to grab your drink and took a few sips before placing it back down. You slowly stood up, feeling the liquor rushing down your legs as it controls your movements. Let’s start with something different.
You reached out to the top of the closet shelve, getting on your tippy toes and grabbed a stack full of boxes and miscellaneous things. But with your wobbly drunken self, and horrible grip, you ended up dropping it on the floor, causing you to yelp out as you moved back.
You opened your eyes and looked down to see that you spilled your drink and broken the glass, “Oh, great.” You pursed your lips, “Glad to see that I’m not the only one broken.” You say, making a half-assed joke. You sighed as you got on your knees and collected some of the big pieces. Thankfully your floor is carpet, all you have to do is wet-vac it.
You started to dry off some of his things but was stopped when you saw a black briefcase with a gold lock embedded on it. “What is this?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you grabbed it and used your hands to take off some of the wine droplets.
You sat comfortable and brought it the case closer for you to examine the lock. It was a four digit code. You grabbed your wine bottle, taking a big swig of it before you went to work on this lock. You bit your lower lip in concentration as you tried multiple combinations.
Shit, you even did the good ole 1, 2, 3, 4. Now listen, in your defense, while on one hand you can kill San, or whoever that man is right now, you always laughed at him for having the most basic password ever—to which he would get offended each time. So you couldn’t help but try it out at least one time.
But, man, you were stumped. Plus it doesn’t help that you were drunk so give yourself some slack. You take a sip and groaned out loud, “What could it even be..” you thought out. You then gasp as you quickly grabbed the case and placed in those four digits. Your birthday. And with that, it clicks open.
You scoffed out a smile, “Really?” Of course he would. “Stop it.” You scolded yourself, shaking your head at yourself. You exhaled, trying to calm the nerves. You slowly opened it, eyes widening at the sight of documents. But these weren’t just regular documents— these were gang afflicted documents.
Your drunken eyes roaming all over, you grabbed the papers out and stacked them, pushing the briefcase to the side. You then start to spread out the documents in front of you, eyes widening as they captured specific words.
You get on your knees as you further spread them out. You then fall back on your knees and parted your mouth in shock at the view in front of you. These documents were filled with gruesome attacks of people, some described chilling events that took place, plans of ambushes, details reports of deaths— you felt sick. What you take notice is that whoever wrote all of this, must’ve been so numb to the brutal killings that were executed.
You then notice a familiar signature at the bottom of the paper. “Oh my god..” you cover your mouth in shock. It was his signature. He did this. You dropped the paper and picked up the previous papers to only confirm what you had in mind. All of them had his signature. He did all of this.
You then turn to the side and saw orange envelope that was filled with what you could imagine more information. You grabbed it and opened it, but dropped it as you turned to the side feeling as if you were going to throw up. You coughed as you felt your throat closing up as you leaned on your hands for support as you hunched over.
“Oh, what the fuck!” You coughed out. Never in your life did you expect to see most nastiest, gruesome photos of bodies. You laid in bed with a freaking monster. You ran a hand through your hair as you looked back the photos you dropped.
You panted heavy as you picked a photo with San standing in the center as men surrounded him all shirtless. You looked closely and saw a snake tattoo that started on their ribs and to their chest. You then had a memory come in when you asked San about his tattoo but he shook his head saying it was nothing, how he thought it was cool when he was younger.
The look casted on San’s face was a rough looking demeanor that contradicts the San you knew—but then again everything did. You dropped your hand with the photograph still in your grasp as you spaced out for a second trying to process everything.
Officer Lee was right. You just didn’t want to believe it. You looked down as took in the gruesome that were spread out. You saw all the violence San created—all the blood, guts, chopped off body parts, one with San smiling over a body. You couldn’t contain it anymore and struggled your way to the bathroom, having the walls be your support as you made it to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.
You can’t believe what your life has become.
PRESENT TIME, 5 YEARS LATER
"Alright, my little munchkins," Your voice full of warmness, "It's almost time to go home, let's start cleaning up!" You say to your first grade students as they in unison yelled out "Okay!" You heard the little chairs squeak against the floor as they got up preparing to leave.
They chatted amongst themselves as they worked together. You moved through the room, helping and guiding them when they had questions on where certain things go. As years have passed, you slowly rebuilt your life. You took joy in being a Pre-K teacher. The laughter and smiles from the kids help shed some light in the darkness that was roaming around you.
The kids eagerly grabbed their backpacks and jacket, helping some as you made some jokes with them causing them to giggle. They were filled with excitement knowing it was time to go home as they bounced in a file line by the door. You opened the doors seeing parents waiting outside.
One by one you watched as they left, the crowd of students getting smaller and smaller. You sighed as you closed your classroom door, stretching your neck. You organized the classroom some more, pushing in chairs, sweeping the floor, collecting left over materials and putting them in their respective place.
Finally, time to go home and shower the day off. You grabbed your purse, turned off the light and headed out the room. You lock your class room door and sighed as you take your hair out of the tight ponytail, running a hand through it.
For some reason you felt someone looking at you which made you look across the street to see a man all dressed in black standing still as he looked at you. You slowly subsided your steps, looking at this figure but with the sun and tall silver fence that wrapped around the school, it was hard to adjust on the face.
You watched as they slowly walked away, your gaze never leaving them until they are fully gone from your view. Well, that was fucking weird, you thought to yourself as you picked up the pace to your car, looking behind you every few seconds.
For five years you have done all that you could to forget Choi San and started anew. You blocked out everything you two shared. The memories, the empty promises, the relationship you two had—everything. You packed up your shit, got rid of everything that was San’s, and moved states. You changed your number, email, deleted any form of social media and accounts— you name it and it was gone.
To say you weren’t terrified would be a bold ass lie. You were petrified of the things San has done. Most importantly, what he could do to you. You were scared of him finding you. When you feel yourself slipping up, yearning for his love or him, you remind yourself of the deadly things this man did. He has no right to stay in your heart.
But we digressed. You slide the shower curtain open causing the steam to swirl around from your sudden movement. You bring your hair to the side, wringing out the excess water, and then slowly stepped of the tub carefully to not lose your balance. You dragged the towel off the rack and pat your self dry before wrapping it around you.
Tucking the excess at the top to make sure the towel doesn’t fall, you walked to your mirror and hand wiped the fog off. You started off with your nightly routine, wanting to just go to bed from all the exhaustion you had today. But just then as you spat out your toothpaste, you heard a faint creaking of wood in your living room.
You looked at the door and froze, feeling your heart quicken a bit at the sound. Maybe it was the upstairs neighbors. You shook your head as you opened the faucet and wiped the corners of your mouth. Maybe I just made the sound up.
But then the creaking noise comes back. You turned off the faucet, gently placing your ear and hands against the door, waiting for it once more. It’s silent—but you aren’t taking any chances.
You slowly pushed yourself off the door and crouched down to your sink cabinet. You quietly opened it and reached in and grabbed the gun that was attached to the roof of the cabinet. When you moved, you decided to arm yourself as a form of protection.
You stood up and cocked the gun back. Your free hand wrapped around the door knob, inhaling and exhaling before slowly opening it. The creaking of the door opening added to the eeriness of the silence. Goosebumps formed on your skin as a gush of cool air from the hallway hits your skin.
You raised the gun up while your other hand supported it from underneath as you walked down the hall. The mist leaving the bathroom was conforming with the fresh air, disappearing behind you as you made your way down the hallway. Your steps thudded as you got closer, faint sounds of water droplets from your hair coming in contact with the floor.
You quickly turned the corner, scanning the living room as the gun followed your eye movements. Your breathing filled up your ears as your eyes moved quickly to every shadow or movement you suspected was something, which only added to your adrenaline.
Then finally, the creaking noise made your ears twitch and this time it was clear where it was coming from. You pointed the gun to the kitchen, tightening the grip. “Show yourself.” You commanded, voice full of anger.
Soon a man slowly emerges from the dark shadows with his hands up. Your eyes widened for a second but you kept your composure, “Who are you?” A slight shaky tone gave away the fear coursing in your body. All you saw was his body as the darkness covered his face.
Slowly he dropped his hands, standing still. “Answer me.” You demanded, heart beating up to your ears.
And with that he takes a step forward and with one look at the face, everything comes crumbling down. “S-San?” You gasped in disbelief, eyes widening at the sight of him, mouth parting.
“Y/N,” he said in a low voice. Oh my god. “It’s me.” It’s really him. The voice you longed to hear after five years. The person you missed desperately. The person who was your forever. He held his gaze with yours as he walked to you.
You felt your arms slowly dropping as you stood in shock. You couldn’t believe he’s here face to face. You want to hold him—wait— “Don’t fucking move.” You tell him as you quickly regained your composure. He freezes at your words. He is not the person you thought you knew.
“Y/N,” his voice broke, eyes full of sorrow. “Please. I know I fucked up.” He tries taking a step forward. Fucked up is an understatement.
“Don’t fucking move!” You yell at him, taking a step forward, gun pointed at him causing him to take a step back. “I’ll shoot you.” You tell him.
His eyes widen at your words. “Y/N,” he whispers as tears start dwelling in his eyes. “I know you’re upset, but please let me explain-“
“Upset?” You cut him off with a humorless laugh. “You fucking asshole. You ruined me! You hurt me in ways I didn’t even know was possible.” You spat at him. “You left me. No— You disappeared. Come to find out you’re nothing but a sick piece of inhumane shit murderer.”
“Let me explain, Y/N. It’s not what you think.” He tells you as he takes a step forward to you. His heart drops at the way you look at him. He knows the damage he has done. He knows that it might be late to salvage whatever is left but he would be damn if he gives up to easily.
The two of you moved around in circles in your living room. Him wanting to hold you, to feel your warmth and to explain everything but you wanting nothing to do with him as you moved away from him. His voice broke as he spoke, “Baby, please-“
“Don’t!” You cut him off, feeling the hot tears falling down your cheeks. “Don’t call me that. You don’t get to show up five years later and try to make up for all the bullshit you put me through.” You tell him as you two finally stopped moving.
You watched as he cried, looking in pain. “Leave. Never come back. You’re five years too late, asshole. I want nothing from you.” You tell him angrily. There was a pause of works between you two, all you could hear was the cries. Your vision blurred by your tears as you stared into his regretful eyes.
San couldn’t contain it anymore. He walks up to you, making you gasp in shock as you walked backwards, bumping into the wall arms still extended out. You felt a slight push from the gun when its cold metal was pressed on his chest. “I have killed men.” He starts to explain what you saw in the photos. “Those men you saw in the photos have done most vile, disgusting things to people. Things that would keep you up at night.” He whispers at the end.
He clears his throat, “Let me explain,” he pleads. “Let me explain and then I’ll leave. I’ll do whatever you ask of me but please, Y/N…”
You fucking trembled as you let out a sob. He sighs in relief as he raised his hands, enclosing them on yours as he gently removed the gun from your hands. You don’t even fight it, you just hug yourself. He removes the ammo and cocks back the gun watching the bullet jump out, dropping the gun to the floor.
The thud made you jump back, wishing the wall would engulf you and would disappear. Slowly he raised his hands to your shoulders, causing you to look away in fright. You swallowed your nerves as you stiffened a bit, feeling his hands rising up to cup your face, making you turn to face him.
He leans his forehead on yours, sliding his hands from your face down your arms, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as he pressed gentle kisses on your knuckles. He places your hands on his cheeks and leans into your touch, let out a shaky sigh of relief. Enjoying your warmth, missing your touch.
You stood there as you took in his gentle gestures. No matter how much you tried to deny it, you fucking missed him. You missed everything so much, but can’t fall for this. You removed your hands from his touch and looked at him in anger. He fucking left you.
You shoved his chest with all your force, watching him stumble backwards. He looked at you in shock. There was a moment of silence before you walked up to him and started pounding him on his chest, hitting him as you released everything you’ve been suppressing for the past five years.
“How could you do this to me?!” You screamed at him. “Who the fuck are you? Why would you come into my life if you were just going to disappear?” He stood there, taking it from you knowing that he deserves this and more.
You slapped him so hard across the face, making him almost lose his balance. “Okay,” he said groaning out in pain as he adjusted his jaw, feeling that burning sensation. “I deserved that.”
You shoved him once more. “I gave you everything.” You told him, panting heavily. “I fucking loved you. You were my everything. We were going to get married and have this life together.” You cried to him. You placed your hands on your head, feeling as if you were going crazy, “I just want to know why.” You shook your head, “Why, San?”
“Baby,” he tells you and you just close your eyes not wanting to hear the pet name he had for you. “I-“ he tried finding the words. “I was involved in something that I never, ever wanted you to find out. I know, sounds hypocritical considering you found the documents and pictures and for that I’m sorry. I genuinely forgot to take the case because- because-“ he sighs as he shakes his head, cutting himself off to change the topic.
You stayed quiet as you looked at him. He sniffed, “I have done terrible, terrible things.” You watched as he looks down and then back up to you, “But I had no choice.” He tells you as he got closer to you, grabbing your hands as he brings them to his lips once more “Part of what I did was something I needed to do in order to get out.” He places a kiss on your hands, looking at you. “In order to be with you.”
You wanted to stay silent. You didn’t want to know but your curiosity betrayed you, “What-“ you let out a shaky breath, “What did you have to do?” You said quietly.
He leans his forehead on your hands, not being able to look at you when he confesses. “In order to get out—to show my loyalty to them and to prove I was done with that life— I had to kill very important people.”
You took your hands from his grasp and looked to the side as you covered your mouth, not being able to look at him. “Oh my god.” You whimpered out.
“Baby, please, it was the only way for me to get out of this life that I didn’t even want to be to begin with.” He says, searching for your eyes. “But that was the only way for me to survive. Once I was in, there was no easy way out.”
He cups your face and wipes your tears, “But when I saw you,” he lets out chuckle with tears streaming down, “I’ll never forget when I first laid my eyes on you. I knew from the bottom of my heart I wanted to be with you,” he looked into your eyes, “I did what I did to be with you. I would do it a thousand times over for you. Because I love you.”
You closed your eyes, whimpering as he kept going on. “I left because I wanted to live a free life from all that shit. I left because I wanted to live in peace with you. Listen,” he cups your face, making you look directly at him, “the men I killed deserved all I did. They have hurt innocent people. Woman, children, Y/N, they don’t care who it was. Scumbags like that deserved to be punished.”
He fell to knees, placing gentle tender kisses on your thighs. “I was so, so afraid of losing you that I hid everything from you. I fucked up for not telling you but I was just trying to protect you.” He cries out as he leans his forehead on your thighs.
He wraps his arms around your legs, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry for leaving you. I’m so sorry for all the misery I have caused you. I promise you, I was done. But-” he fumbled with his words, “But someone informed me that they were looking for me to get revenge. To get back at me for all I did to those people.”
He looks up at you, “And I just—… I could never live with myself if they killed you.So I decided to just leave and disappear before they found you with me.” He caresses the back of your thighs as he leaned his forehead once more on your thighs. “I thought it would be better this way. I paid off the men at my job to lie to you if you showed up. I threw my phone away. I had all of my records cleared off the database. I just couldn’t risk anyone having single link of you from me. ”
Your sobs filled the room as you take in all his words. This man who went from your lover to a stranger to now you being conflicted. You watched as he stood up, cupping your face once more. “For the past five years, I never once let you out my sight.” He confesses.
It then hits you. “Was that you today?” You asked him and he nodded.
“It fucking broke me watching you from the distance but please, Y/N, understand it was for your protection.” He tells you.
You held onto his wrists, “San,” you licked your lips as you closed your eyes. “I just- I don’t know what to think or what to do.” You sniffed as you opened your eyes and looked at him. “Why now? Why now after all these years did you decide to come back?“
“I’m free,” he whispered to you, “I took care of everything.” He tells you and you felt a shiver go down your spine as you gulped. “Listen to me, they deserved it.” You remove his hands, feeling sick as you remembered the photos and documents.
He sighs in defeat. “Y/N, the things they have done to others,” he shakes his head, “it’s indescribable. What I did to them isn’t even half of what they have done.” That makes you feel even more in shock. Those photos and detailing was already horrible enough, you can’t imagine what they did to others.
You looked at the floor thinking. Does it kind of make you feel better that San basically did justice in killing bad guys? You don’t know. Are you trying to make an excuse? You don’t know. But one thing is certain, you were afraid. You looked at him as you let out a shaky breath, “Would you ever… hurt me?” You hesitantly asked him.
You saw as his face broke at your question. His heart dropped at your words. “What?” He whispered out. “I would never, ever do such a thing to you. You���re the love of my life. The reason I woke up and did what I did for the past five years just so I can be with you again. Y/N you changed me for the better.” He grabs your hand and placed it on his chest. “This is for you.” He says as you feel his heart beat, insinuating that it beats for you and only you.
“The man you saw in the photos and read in the documents that’s not me anymore. I gave up that life for you. I wanted to change for you. I love you, Y/N, believe that.” He pulls you to him as he cups your face once more.
You planned to never see San ever again in your life. As a matter of fact you wanted to kill him if he ever came across your way. But now listening to him and him explaining, granted he needs more explains to do, you can’t help but fucking want him again in your life. You fucking missed him.
You let out a whimper. “San,” you say, “I hate you so much. I hate that I missed you. I hate that I still love you.” You squeezed his wrists. San lets out a sad chuckle at your word, “I hate myself too. I hate for leaving you and for hurting you.”
You softly hit his chest once as you cried, not having any strength left in your body. You looked up at him, “Are you going to leave me again?” You asked him with tears in your eyes, in a broken voice that was full of pain.
He leans his forehead on yours, “Never. I will never leave you again.” You felt his rough hands roaming up and down your arms, giving you goosebumps. You bit your lower lip—fuck. It’s as if nothing has changed for the past five years. You just give into him so easily.
You looked into his eyes, love and lust swirling around. “Please,” he said lowly, as he wiped your tears with his thumbs, “Let me take care of you tonight.” He places a kiss below your ear, “Let me show you how sorry I am.” He trails kisses down your neck, “How much I’ve missed you.” He hovers his lips over yours.
You let out a sigh of satisfaction from his touches. You slightly nodded as you looked into his eyes. He leans in and captures your lips, you melted into his touch. He wasted no time in picking you up causing you to wrap your legs around him.
You gently tugged his hair as the kiss started to heat up. He glided a hand up your back, tugging your head back by your hair as he trails kisses down your neck to your collarbone. You let out a moan when he starts sucking on that sweet spot. You look back down to him and kissed him again.
“Mmm, where is the room?” He broke the kiss, panting slightly as he catches his breath. “Down the hall.” You whispered, panting as well.
He burst into the bedroom, both of you still in the heated kiss, closing the door with his leg as he walked and threw you on the bed. “San!” You yelped out in shock. You sat up as you clutched the towel that still covered your body, giving him an angry look as he hovers over you, “Don’t do that shi-“
He cuts you off with a kiss, “I’m sorry, baby.” He whispers to you, gently pushing you to lay back down on the bed, “I’ll be careful, okay?” He whispers in your ear, kissing below it. Bullshit but okay. Nice to know that something’s don’t change.
He sat up as he takes off his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him as he leans back down to kiss you. You unconsciously roam your hands all over his muscular arms, squeezing them as he grinds his clothes hard member against your bare throbbing, achy pussy.
His lips slowly moves down and stops at the top of your towel. He takes his forefinger and slowly drags it from your lips down to neck and between your breast. He never once took his eyes off you as he slowly unravels your towel. He looked at you as if you were a meal—starving and craving you for the past five years.
He leans down and latches onto your nipple while massaging the other one causing you to arch your back as you clench you pussy onto nothing. He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose as his tongue flicks your harden nipple. He switches from one breast to the other.
He trails the kisses down your stomach making you inhale and exhale at his trailing wet kisses, making you excited for what’s to come. He gets off the bed, kneeling on the floor between your legs, hooking his arms underneath your legs as he drags you closer to him.
He places your thighs on his shoulders, kissing your inner thighs as he eyes your glistening pussy. His hands caress your thighs up and down. “San, please.” You begged to him, turning your head to the side in desperation as your chest heaves at his actions.
“Shh, baby, just relax.” His hot breath hovers over your throbbing area, making you clench once more. “Let me handle it, okay?” He asks you and watched as you nodded frantically causing him to smirk.
He then sucks on your clit, slightly hollowing his cheeks from the suction as he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud. You let out a moan as he lays his tongue flat, moving his head up and down. You gripped on his head, using your free one to grip the sheets. The sounds of suction adds to your pleasure.
He reaches over your thighs, spreading your folds wasting no time to fuck you with his tongue. San swears this is the most beautiful state he has seen you in. Screaming as you arch your back, unable to deal with the pleasure as it takes over you.
He moves his tongue in and out your hole, feeling you clench around him. He moves his tongue all around your folds before going back in. He then freed one hand and uses his thumb to rub small circles on your clit. “Shit.” You breathed out turning your head side to side, gasping.
He freed his other hand and sticks in two fingers, curved upward, moving at a medium pace. “O-Oh!” You moaned out, throwing your head back as your mouth parts in delight, “Ri-Right there!” You gripped the pillow on either side of your head.
He continues the rubbing and fingering as he looks at you. His cheeks hurt but he doesn’t fucking care. “I missed you so much baby.” He said in a deep voice, “I’ve dreamt of this everyday for the past five years.”
He places a kiss on your inner thigh. “Can you cum for me?” He asked you before getting back down. He quickens the pace, sucking the lower half of your clit as he uses his thumb to rub the top part rapidly, adding pressure to it.
You screamed out his name as a mantra. “San! San, I’m going to cum!” You said as you looked down at him before throwing your head back. You clamped his head trapped between your thighs, feeling your orgasm building up. You fisted his hair as you breathed heavy.
“Shit! Shit!” You say as you screamed out as you reached your orgasm. All the built up emotions just released in that moment as you felt like you saw stars. You breathed out uncontrollably as he help you ride out your high with his fingers and mouth. Your shaky legs let go of the grip it had on his head as you tried collecting yourself.
He stands up and removes his pants and boxers in one go, watching you all fucked out on the bed. His member was leaking with precum, eager to feel you and to fill you up all deliciously. He hovers of you, getting between your legs, “You okay, baby?” He asks you.
“Yeah,” You breathed out as you lazily wrapped your arms over his neck, “That was amazing.” You lazily smile which caused him chuckle. You pull him to you, kissing him as you tasted yourself on his lips.
He pulls back, “Are you ready?” He asked you. You nodded at him, “Yes.” You whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moves to his hand to align himself, both of you remaining eye contact. You closed your eyes as you feel his tip going in and then him full stretching you out. He drops his head down, feeling the tightness engulf him.
He takes a moment for you both, taking in the sensation. You can’t help but to clench down at him, enjoying this longed for feeling. He slowly starts to thrust back and forth, biting his lower lip. “Oh.” You moaned out in pleasure and a slight stinging pain from the stretching.
He kisses your lips. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.” He comforts you through the slight pain. “Are you gonna take what I give you?” He asked causing you to flutter your eyes open at him.
“Anything you give me, I’ll take it.” You nodded at him. As soon as you gave him the permission, he puts his hands behind your knees, moving them up to the sides of your head. He starts pounding in you causing him to groan out in delight as he closes his eyes, throwing his head back.
The position made you feel his rough thrusts deeper causing you to scream. The bed frame started hitting again the wall from how hard he was going. “You like that baby?” He asked you looking back down at you.
“Ye-Yes-s!” You managed to choke out. Your tits bounced from his actions as you tried finding something to grip onto, feeling overwhelmed. You then let out a gasp when you felt him dropping your legs, turning you to lay on your stomach.
He drags your hips up, quickly inserting himself back in as his hand forces to arch your back. He smacks your ass which makes you moan out, loving the stinging. “Touch yourself for me, baby.” He says. You adjusted yourself on your arm as you reached out and rubbed circles on your clit. The rubbing makes you clench on him, “Fuck,” he moans out, bed creaking underneath you both. “Fucking love when you do that.”
He then grabs a fist of your hair, pulling your head back. You whimpered at the pulling as he smacks your ass again. You whined as you bit your lower lip, loving how his balls smack against your clit. “You’re mine.” He leans down and whispers in your ear, hand sliding to your neck, squeezing it. “All mine.”
“All yours, San.” You say with the little air you have in your body. You then leaned forward when he lets go of you, gasping for air. But you have no time to compose yourself as he turns you around one last time, laying you on your back.
“Cum with me.” He tells you, rapidly thrusting into you. Your hands reached to his back, scratching it deeply as he rubs your clit. His balls hitting your ass as he tries chasing his high, letting out a low groan.
All the sounds from skin slapping to the bed frame legit about to break added to the electrifying atmosphere. He reaches up and holds your jaw in place, “I'm gonna cum.” You tell him. “Me too, baby. Cum with me.” He tells you as he leans down and kisses you.
A few more strokes and you both are moaning into each other’s mouths as you both came at the same time. He paints your walls white as his hips movements slowly starts to subside, riding out both of your highs. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting heavy. Hot, sweaty sticky bodies in each other’s embrace. Your hand reaches up and caresses his sweaty hair. “I love you.” He tells you as you feel the vibration in the crook of your neck.
“I love you too.” You tell him as you stare off to the ceiling, slowly closing your eyes as you felt the exhaustion take over, caressing movements subsiding in his hair.
You wake up with the sun shining in your eyes. You scrunched up your face as you turned away from the light, reaching out to feel San. You shot your eyes open when you didn’t feel him there. No, not again. You sit up straight, looking at the empty spot. “San?” You called out, looking out the door way— nothing answers you back.
You remove the covers off you hastily, ignoring the overall soreness in your body as you walked to your drawer grabbing underwear and oversize shirt. You quickly put them on as you walked out the room, “San- Oh.” You called out once more as you walked down the hallway but stopped abruptly in your steps.
All your overwhelming emotions flushed away when you saw San cooking in the kitchen. “Ah!” He screamed out in pain when a small drop of oil jumped onto his skin. You covered your mouth when you saw how he was standing— body arm length away, hips pushed out, completely away from the pan as his arms are extended out. One hand holds a fork and the other holding the handle of the pot.
Through the sizzling, San heard your chuckle, causing him to snap his head towards you. “The stupid oil burned me again!” He said with a pout.
You sighed out a chuckle as you shook your head. “Let me do it, you big baby.” You said smiling as you walked to him. You take the fork from his hand and flipped some bacon pieces. He crossed his arms, “I’m not a big baby.” He said in a whining tone.
You snorted. “Sure.” You say, eyeing the bacon as you smiled. “You have the temperature too hig-“ You froze in your words when you saw a ring on your ringer finger with a huge diamond on it. How did you miss this big ass rock?
You then felt arms wrap around your waist from behind, lips kissing on your neck. You let out a shocked scoff as you felt tears dwelling in. “I told you I was going to get you a ring with a big gem on it.” He smiles into the kisses on your neck.
You turned to him with tears falling down your cheeks. He smiles at your reaction, cupping your face as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears. “I love you.” You whispered to him.
“I love you so much more.” He tells you. “I promise I will make up for all my mistakes. You’re my life, Y/N. I will prove it to you.” He knows it’s going to take a long time before you fully trust him again, but this a first step for that.
After a moment of silence he grab your chin and places a few more kisses on your lips. “So,” he whispers which you hummed in response, “why don’t we start on those six kids, mm?”
You rolled your eyes, swiping his hand off your chin turning to focus on the bacon. “We are not having six kids, San!” You tell him, giving him a glare over your shoulder. You looked at the bacon and smirked, “Maybe we will have them when you stop being scared over cooking oil.” You teased him.
He let out an offended gasp. “Excuse me?!” He put a hand over his chest. He pursed his lips as he hip bumps you out the way and sassily takes the fork out of your hand. “Watch. I’m not scared of some stupid oil.” His voice trembling through the fake confidence.
He flinched slightly when he sees the oiling jumping all over the place causing you to burst out in laughter. You placed a kiss on his cheek, patting his back. “Sure baby.” You say crossing your arms as you leaned back on the counter.
He then shouts once more , dropping the fork on the counter when the oil jumped on his skin. “Forget it!” He said walking away with attitude which made you stifle a laugh.
He stops in his steps and turns around, a smirk growing on his face. He walks to you, “What are you doing?” You asked him as you stood up, standing with your guard up. He bends down and throws you over his shoulder as he heads to the bedroom. “We can start with one.” He said as you yelled at him to put you down as he smacked your ass. You don’t see it but you two are smiling at each other’s actions.
THE END
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midnightwriter21 · 2 years ago
Note
Hello :) please could I request headcanons of the hashira having a crush on a hashira!reader who’s very motherly to the younger demon slayers but shy and secretly craving affection from the other hashira 💙💙
demon slayer hcs: motherly hashira!reader x the hashira pt 1
characters: fem!reader x giyuu, rengoku, tengen, shinobu, kamaboko squad (mentioned)
AN: some of these are platonic instead of romantic.
pt. 2 with mitsuri, obanai, sanemi, and muichiro is HERE
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stop because i love this
you don't talk to the other hashira much
but its not because you don't like them!
they're just a little intimidating
and you want them to like you so bad
but what if you accidentally embarrass yourself in front of them
would be my biggest fear tbh
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GIYUU
this guy is just as shy as you are
awkward asf too
but seeing as you're one of the few hashira that are kind to him..
he really likes you
also really appreciates the way you take care of the younger slayers
especially the Kamado siblings
i mean he did literally put his life on the line for those two
you guys don't talk much when in each others company
really its more of a dead silence lmao
like thats a surprise at all lol
but he enjoys being in your presence
he thinks you have a very calming aura around you
and he never feels any hostility from you
if you guys are paired up on a mission?
my guy is glued to u
no way is a demon going to hurt someone as pure and kindhearted as u
not on giyuu's watch
even tho he's goin to be protective of u during missions
he knows that despite your sweet nature, ur a hell of a fighter
respects you sm
thinks of you as his only true friend within the corps
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RENGOKU
i can never get enough of him i swear
he absolutely adores you
goes out of his way to talk to you every chance he gets
ur all the way on the other side of the butterfly estate?
sunshine boy is hunting you down
ur on a mission a few miles away from his estate?
he's alrdy otw
also very oblivious
you get shy when he starts talking to you
maybe you start blushing
"oh are you sick? your face is all red. i hope you don't have a fever..."
and hes putting his hand on ur forehead to check ur temperature
if he touched me id faint
admires how you genuinely care for the younger slayers
the way you encourage them to get stronger
the way you help them train
the way you make sure they're eating and drinking enough
you remind him of his mother
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TENGEN
when him & his wives finally have children..
ur designated babysitter 100%
being the sound hashira he has a great sense of hearing
so he hears your interactions with the younger slayers
you're not afraid to talk to the kids
you comfort them. laugh with them, scold them, etc.
wonders why you act so differently in the presence of the hashira
makes it his mission to make you comfortable around him
u don't have to worry abt affection when tengen is concerned lol
compliments you 24/7
"you look very flashy today!"
"you are a great teacher!"
"You should become my 4th wife!"
no bc that lmfao ^
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SHINOBU
you two are very familiar with each other
it's very often that you're dragging inosuke or genya by the ear to the infirmary to be treated
mostly inosuke
so she is well aware of how motherly u can be
she's a regular witness to the many scoldings given out to the younger slayers
you also asked her to train you in basic first aid
your red face and stuttered words were so cute she acted like she couldn't understand you
just so you would repeat it
loves to tease you
nothing too bad!
and never mean!
just thinks you're so adorable
really appreciates when shes sent on missions and you help out in the infirmary
wants to be better friends with you
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