#made the mistake of sleeping all day yesterday so i was up all night reading but oh my God

[moeswriting]

mine | 3. we'll never make my parents mistakes

pairing: young!no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

chapter summary: you and joel are finding things out about each other’s pasts and figuring out how to deal with your presents,

or meeting sarah miller and the after effects

warnings: THIS CHAPTER EXPLORES SOME VERY DARK THINGS BUT IS ALSO VERY SOFT, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION AND PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS; discussion of maternal suicide/postpartum depression, alcoholism, and parental neglect (reader); joel is 22 and reader is 20; reader is described a small amount (has hair, able-bodied, wears feminine clothing, is going to school for secondary english education, has a heavily-detailed background); joel being The Single Dad™; character joins the army, conversation about a dead father and general daddy issues for the Miller brothers, including military PTSD and fraternal death from lung cancer; tommy being a little shit; HEY THESE TWO IDIOTS HAVE SEX!!! (not explicit)

word count: 11.5k

a/n: happy late birthday to my favorite fictional boy, have some trauma <3 this has been a long time coming (u see what i did there? ;) ). to all who have been begging me for the next chapter in my inbox, this is for you <3 . again, just wanna say: please read the warnings on this chapter. i am not usually a “traumatize my characters” kind of writer, but i was feeling feral while writing this over the past few weeks and it kind of just happened… so be warned. (i’m sorry in advance)

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Flash forward, and we're takin' on the world together

And there's a drawer of my things at your place

You learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded

You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes

✦ ✦ ✦

November 1994

It’s a couple days later. A Tuesday. Arguably the worst day of the week and a day that he’s been dreading since the text had graced his flip phone that night.

“... we need to talk”??

It sent shivers down his spine, made him want to run and hide, and never leave his apartment again. Talking wasn’t really Joel’s strong suit– sure, he could sweet talk Mrs. Nelson into giving him a better tip, but talking about how he felt? God, it was like dragging his toddler around a store when she wanted to go home– frustrating and near-impossible.

You’d texted him afterwards, making plans to meet at the diner when his shift was almost over to talk. But the past two days had been an absolute blur.

Sarah had noticed her dad’s change in demeanor and had decided to follow him into it, nonstop crying and small fists banging on the floor and his chest and anything she could take her anger out on. It made sleeping borderline impossible. He has had to sit in her small bed with her laying on his chest until she wore herself out the past two nights.

But here he is, at his usual Tuesday shift just after the lunch crowd has dispersed and he’s hiding in the kitchen while Don gives him a lecture about something that he’s honestly not listening to. He does, however, catch the sound of the bell ringing as someone walks into the diner and then he hears your cheery voice as you speak to someone.

“Go out there, there’s a customer,” Don says as he cleans the grill.

“I–” He cuts himself off. He doesn’t want Don to know about what’s about to happen.

The burly man looks up at him, nearly a foot shorter than him and he still scares the crap out of him sometimes, “It’s your girl, isn’t it?”

Joel clears his throat and sighs, “Yeah.”

“You two been fighting?”

He shakes his head.

Don slices his hand through the air as if to push Joel’s gesture aside. “Bullshit. I can tell.”

“Wha–”

“You been actin’ different. I’ve known you almost four years, Miller. I could tell when you started datin’ her and I could tell yesterday when you came into work that something was wrong.”

Damn Don and his out-of-character perceptiveness.

“Go face her, Miller.” He nods once, a finality to it.

“I-”

“Get out of my kitchen, you coward!”

He pushes him out of the swinging doors and into the dining area. When he sees you, he freezes.

✦ ✦ ✦

You arrive at the diner at three and sit in your usual spot by the window that no one else likes but you. It’s bright. You think maybe that’s why no one likes it, but you adore the way the reflected light warms you down to your toes. It’s quiet– weirdly quiet, like even the building itself is getting ready in anticipation for whatever is about to happen. The only other patron is Mr. Cassini sitting in a corner with a cup of coffee cradled in his trembling hands. You wonder where Doreen is.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Cassini,” you yell across the diner.

His face lights up, like it always does when he sees you, “Hello, dear! How are you doin’?”

“Oh, I’m doing as good as I can. How about you?”

“Oh darlin’, I’m doing amazing. Best I’ve felt in years.”

You smile at him, “That’s amazing, Mr. Cassini.”

“Oh, look at me talkin’ you up when you probably have work to do. I’ll let you get to your studying.”

You huff, “Thanks, Mr. Cassini.”

You can hear clattering coming from the kitchen. You suppose that’s where Joel is, or where he’s hiding. You’d tried to get a grasp on how Joel was feeling about all of this when you had been texting him to make the plans to meet here after his shift. Text messages aren’t very good at communicating emotion, but you couldn’t get yourself to call him– face him.

“Get out of my kitchen, you coward,” you hear Don yell in his obnoxiously loud way, a deep chortle following Joel as he exits the swinging doors.

He freezes like a statue, eyes wide and brows raised. Tired is the word that comes to mind– he so obviously hasn’t slept right in days. Bags under his eyes, shoulders slouched, skin paler than his usual tan glow. Maybe he’d seen a ghost.

He looks at you with his evaluating stare. You always wonder what Joel sees when he does this. Does he know how terrified you are?

Turning around, he points a finger towards the counter and grabs a clean glass from the cabinet behind him. You sigh, sling your backpack over your shoulder, and get up to go sit where Joel directed you to. He likes it when you’re closer to him while you visit him at work, especially if it’s slow and he’s bored, but when you need to study or do homework, you sit at the booth by the window– less distractions, you tell him. Really, you just know you won’t get any work done if you have easy access to him and you like the noise of the diner while you’re studying.

He doesn’t turn back towards you until you’re already settled in the tall stool, backpack precariously balanced on the seat next to you. Sliding the glass across the counter towards you, now full of iced tea exactly how you like it, he sighs.

“Hey, sugar.”

His nervousness surrounds him– hand pulling through his sweaty, messy hair, lidded eyes darting around the diner in an effort to find something to distract himself with, teeth worrying his bleeding lower lip between them. 

“Hey,” you breathe out. In a way, his nerves comfort you– you’re not the only one.

“I got another few minutes before Don will let me out.”

“I know, Joel,” you mutter.

“Gotta wait for Dorreen to come back from her smoke break too.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

He leans on the counter, facing you, “I’m nervous.”

You give him a soft smile, “Me too.”

“Good. Good.” He nods to himself, pushing a straw towards you from the apron around his waist.

“Miller! I need more coffee,” Mr. Cassini’s gravely voice echoes through the empty diner, making Joel jump up from his position on the counter.

“One second, Mr. Cassini–” he holds up a finger directed at you– “I’ll be right back. Gotta do a couple things before I leave.”

You know. You nod.

You pull a book out of your bag, The Secret Garden, desperate to avoid the awkwardness of the quiet. You absorb yourself in the story of Mary as she explores the hidden garden her new caretaker’s late wife once walked, dead and gray. It’s the millionth time you’ve read it– page corners bent and the spine cracked in multiple places. The pages are a dark yellow, almost matching the deep color of the faded cover. On the front page, the name Virginia swirls in a beautiful cursive right above your own name in your not-so-delicate print. The ink of her fountain pen is a deeper black than the one of your ball-point, faded by the twelve years it had sat on the page.

A hand pops into your field of vision and taps on the page of your book, “Ready to go.”

You hum and stash the book into your bag, between your hardback textbooks so it gets better protection from the mess that is your bookbag.

You watch Joel pull his apron off and stuff it under the counter, exposing the parts of his jeans that have gone untouched by the mess of his shift. The square outline around his crotch almost makes you giggle, but you bite your lip to suppress it.

He comes around the counter and, without looking in your direction, pushes open the front door. Following behind him like a puppy, you quickly do the same, throwing your backpack over your shoulder.

He stops suddenly, turning around, looking for guidance.

You sigh, “Let me walk you home.”

“No–”

“What direction is it?”

He looks you up and down, a habit you guess he learned from trying to determine if he needed to make Tommy back down from a fight or not. His hesitation is so blatant, bringing his hand up once, twice, before he points in the opposite direction from the route he takes to walk you back to your dorm. Of course, he was going out of his way to bring you home. That is the most Joel thing you could think of.

“Let’s go.”

You start to walk, determined steps taking you down the street. You turn to look at Joel over your shoulder and he hasn’t moved an inch. Your footsteps falter.

“Really?”

He huffs out a breath, “I– I just–”

You shrug your arms up, exasperated, and slap them back against your sides, “What, Joel?”

“I don’t… I’m not ready to do this yet.”

What?

You furrow your brows and squint in his direction through the waning sunlight.

“What in the world are you talking about?”

He runs a hand through his curly, sweaty hair, sucks in a large breath, and slurs his words together in one long exhale, “I’m not ready for you to meet her yet.”

Oh. Oh.

“Joel, that’s not– that’s not what I was trying to do. I just wanted to walk you home.”

Now that he’s admitted his secret to you, that other part of him no longer hidden, everything about him is so obviously catered to a four-year-old. His expressions are controlled, but also so kind and open, like he’s keeping his real feelings at bay but wants to make sure you know that you can tell him anything and he’ll listen. His shoulders are hunched over from hard work, but he never falters, he always shows up for you, for Sarah. He’s nervous in everything he does, whether he shows it or not, but he would do anything to make sure his friends and family get whatever they need. He’d fight a bull for you if you asked him to. He’d tear the earth in two for his baby, you can tell.

This is the same Joel you’ve come to like. He hasn’t changed into a whole new person just because you learned he’s a father. He was a father the whole time you’ve known him, which is weird to think about. What else didn’t you know about him?

You continue, dragging your feet back to him, “I would never, ever try to force you into anything– especially when it comes to your daughter. I have no right to demand anything.”

“I do want you to meet ‘er.”

“I want to meet her too.”

“Someday. I jus’… not now. I need to make sure we– I wanna make sure we’ll last before I introduce someone else into her life.”

“And I agree with you.”

“Good.”

“Yup.” You kick a rock in front of you.

You both stare at each other, waiting to see who will break the silence first. 

Joel tilts his head in the direction he had originally pointed in, “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

You nod. 

The two of you walk in silence to a park down the road. You wonder if his apartment is near.

There are a few benches scattered around the park, surrounded by flowers and shrubs alike. A playground is busy with children as they scream and chase after each other with smiles on their faces.

He flops down on a bench facing a water fountain, far enough from the kids that you’re pretty sure they won’t hear you.

You sigh, pressing your palms into your eyes as you join him, small flakes of wood on the old bench press into the backs of your thighs.

“I’m upset that you didn’t tell me right away– I just want you to know that.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Apologizing is good. An explanation would be better.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He crosses his arms, staring out at the glaring sun, “‘Cause I didn’ want you to run.”

You scoff and scuff the concrete beneath you with your sneaker in emphasis, “What makes you think I would’ve run?”

His eyes dart over to you. He gives you a look that screams, “Are you seriously asking me that?” Eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched.

“‘Could tell you were nervous when I first met ya. And I knew you were young and in college and most college-aged girls aren’t interested in gettin’ in a relationship with a dad.”

“Oh, I know for a fact that that is not true,” you huff, mirroring his position– slouched, arms crossed. You knew plenty of women your age who would love the stability and the experience– knew Elaine had had a few chance encounters with DILFs she had met at the bar. She claimed it was some of the best sex she’d ever had.

He scoffs, “Whatever, you know what I mean.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, I do.”

Rubbing his hands together, he continues.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to keep her from you forever. I was always going to tell you.”

You flatten your lips into a line. “Yeah, well, it would’ve been nice to know from the get-go.”

He’s looking you in the eye again with a genuinity and softness and places a hand on your thigh. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll stop apologizing for that for a long time. I just– it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

You sigh, placing your hand on top of his, a smirk starting to take over your lips, “I’m not going to say it’s okay, but I might be willing to forgive you.”

His eyebrows quirk up, “Might be?”

You fix your posture, now sitting taller than him, and look down into his pretty eyes, “You take me out again and I might be willing to look past this indiscretion.”

He opens his mouth to speak again, but you interrupt before he gets the chance, pointing a defiant finger in his face– “But–! You have to promise me you won’t keep shit from me anymore. We gotta lay it all on the table. I’m not going to do this with you unless you’re honest with me.”

He nods, “I think I can do that– both of those.”

You nod, “Good, I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

He fixes his slouch so that he’s level with you again, his hand never leaving the comfort of your own.

“But, y’know that means you have to be honest with me too.”

You furrow your eyebrows.

Turning his hand so your palms face each other, he laces your fingers together and squeezes. “I know you’re hiding stuff from me too. Big stuff.”

You hum. 

“Why won’t you talk about your family?”

Well, shit.

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut, “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’... but we don’t have to do this right now.” His eyes are wide with fear, scared he might have pushed you too hard. Maybe he has. But, it’s weird, for the first time in your entire life, you want to share things about your past.

“No, it’s okay. Might as well,” you reply, taking your hand out of his and rubbing your eyes aggressively with your palms.

Without looking up at him, you start, “I– I don’t really have much family. It’s just pretty much been me and my dad since I can remember.”

“You said your dad lives back in Seattle, right?”

“Yeah. He uh– he isn’t my favorite person. That’s why– that’s why I don’t talk about him.”

He doesn’t say anything, giving you time to think about what you’re going to say next.

“My mom died a couple weeks after she gave birth to me. She– she, uh–”

It’s hard to spit it out. To talk about it. Only a few people knew about what really happened– the rest all just knew she was dead. But you know that Joel should know– know why this is so hard for you.

“She had postpartum depression really, really bad. Couldn’t get out of bed, couldn’t shower, couldn’t eat, couldn’t feed me or hold me or look at me– Dad says she was like a statue, like a ghost of herself.”

You can’t get yourself to look at him– can feel the guilt running down your spine and into your bone marrow like it always does when you think of her. You hide your face behind your hands, elbows leaning on your legs.

“She had been so excited. They both were. Just out of college and newlyweds– dad says her pregnancy was the best year of their relationship.”

You gear yourself up for what you’re about to say. You’ve only ever told one person about this before: Elaine, and that was after a year of friendship. You’ve only known Joel for a little over a month. But, you want to tell him– need to tell him.

“But she– she killed herself. Didn’t leave a note or anything, she was just… gone.”

You can’t see his face, don’t want to. You’ve seen enough sympathetic eyes to last a lifetime of grief. “Oh, sugar…”

You shake your head in your hands– you’re not done yet. “Dad was pretty much gone after that. I never remember a time when he was ‘there’, but my grandmother said he used to be different– ‘more alive’.

“I knew he blamed me before he ever said it. He’d drop me off at my grandmother’s house and disappear for days and when she died and that wasn’t an option anymore, he would just leave me at the house with a ten dollar bill for food for a couple days at a time.”

He scoffs, like  your father could hear his anger from here. “That’s not fair–”

You cut him off, you don’t want to hear one more person say your life isn’t fair, “And when he was home, he was angry all the time. He has his good days, but he– he’s not my favorite person.

“So, that’s why I was scared when you told me about Sarah,” you continue, “Because I– I don’t exactly have a good track record with the whole ‘family’ thing. And I don’t… I don’t really know anything about being a… maternal figure.”

You can’t say “mom”. Can’t think it.

It takes a moment of stunned silence for Joel to reply, but when he does, he lays a hand on your shoulder, “Baby, I… I wasn’t askin’ for you to jump into being a mother. I wasn’t… I wasn’t even asking you to be a mother at all. I just wanted you to know my priorities, because if this relationship is gonna continue, you have to have a relationship with my daughter.”

“I know.”

“But, I understand now. Thank you for tellin’ me about your mom.”

You sigh, closing your eyes and leaning your head back on the bench, “Thank you for listening and being patient with me.”

You can feel him looking at you, hear the smile in his words. “I’d wait forever for you, sugar.”

Your cheeks heat up, eyes wide open, and turn to him. The look in his irises tells you that he’s being completely genuine.

“Anyways, I gotta go. I’m not tryin’ to get away from you or this conversation, but my momma has to get home.”

You nod your acknowledgement, standing up. He holds a hand out for you to take and you pull him up from the bench, but you don’t let go– you guide him towards the exit of the park and then he takes the reins from there, leading you in the direction of his apartment.

“Your mom watch her when you’re at work?”

“Yeah, Tommy does too sometimes when he’s not gettin’ his ass beat in alleyways after school,” he rolls his eyes. 

You huff out a breath of amusement, “Well, that’s very kind of them.”

You squeeze his hand. It’s calloused from hard work and dry from the hot Texas weather. His larger fingers engulf yours.

“Tell me about her.”

He starts to shake his head, “Oh, we don’t–”

“No, no, I want to know about her.”

He’ll always take an opportunity to brag about his baby girl.

In the few minutes walk, he tells you about Sarah. How she turns five in July. How she smiles with her teeth, showing off her two front teeth that they just pulled. How he very unsuccessfully pulled a Tooth Fairy heist, which resulted in him having to admit to his daughter that the Tooth Fairy wasn’t real. How she looks just like her mom, but is just so beautifully unique in her own way. How her hair never cooperates with him, so he has to take her to the salon down the street so they can braid her hair. How she likes pink the most and requests the same pink butterfly hair clips every morning despite the large collection of hair accessories she’s amassed. How he loves her with everything in him.

You arrive at your destination, or at least you think so, as you approach a small bakery and Joel takes out his key.

“I rent the apartment above the bakery from the owner. She has a house with kids and a husband so she doesn’t need to stay here, and she’s an old family friend, so she lets Sarah and I stay up here for fairly cheap.”

You smile, “That’s very kind.”

“Yes, but she loves to come visit way more than she’s actually welcomed. She likes Sarah a lot, I mean, most people do because she’s a great kid, but y’know…”

He suddenly perks up, holding his hands up in a “stop” motion.

“Wait– stay here.”

You watch him run up the stairs two at a time, before the door closes behind him. You stay in your spot.

He comes back down the stairs with his seashell in his hand– the gray one with the brown stripes, the one he had so proudly presented to you two days ago on the beach. The one he told you was simple, didn’t need to be flashy to get the job done. The one that was so obviously him that it hurt to think about the last couple of days of avoiding him, of the time wasted.

You cradle it in your palms and look up at him through your eyelashes.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter.

“For what, sugar?”

“For making you think I didn’t want you.”

He sighs, grabbing your wrists and pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“Don’t be sorry– wasn’t your fault. I got lots of things to work on, and so do you. We jus’ need to communicate better, like you said.”

You nuzzle your head into his chest. He smells like leather and freshly-cut wood.

He feels like home.

“Yeah, we do.”

✦ ✦ ✦

December 1994

It’s the middle of December when your 21st birthday rolls around.

Elaine throws a party in the basement of your dorm building, approved by your RA as a “floor event” for the end of the semester (which in a way isn’t a lie because most of your dorm floor is there anyways) the day before your birthday. You had convinced Joel to come too, all of your friends swooning over him and winking at you when you introduced them to him. He’s blushing the entire night.

But on your actual birthday, Joel takes you to his apartment for the first time, dropping Sarah off at his mom’s house for the night.

When you first walked in, you think that even if you hadn’t known this was Joel’s apartment, that you could’ve easily picked it out in a lineup. The ceilings are vaulted, popcorn textured walls that are painted an off-white that makes the space look larger than it is, a kitchen off to the right and a bedroom door straight ahead. There’s a painting of horses that Joel has described to you before above the mantle in the living room, it was his dad’s. You can tell he’s cleaned up, because all of the pink toys that he told you were usually scattered all over the floor for him to stub his toe on, which he did constantly, are neatly piled in a basket in the corner of the room. The couch is old, sagging in the middle, but it looks comfortable because of all of the quilts thrown all over the back.

After a dinner of your favorite food, which Joel painstakingly made to perfection, he guides you to the living room couch and hands you a present.

It’s a big cardboard box with a purple bow stuck on top. Before you can even think about opening it, he takes the bow off and puts it on top of your head.

“It’s for your birthday and Christmas ‘cause it’s a pretty expensive gift, and y’know I don’t make a whole lot at the diner, but I think it was worth it.”

You open the box with a smile and what sits waiting for you is a pair of cowboy boots. And they are beautiful.

They’re made of a thick leather that feels smooth beneath your fingers as you pick them up and cradle one of them in your hands. It’s heavy in your grip, sturdy and obviously well-made– stitches tight and leather buffed. The sides are a light purple with white sprigs of lavender stitched into the leather.

“They’re work boots, so they're steel-toed and waterproof. I treated the leather already, but you can bring ‘em to me every couple months and I’ll do it again. Figure that you needed shoes that weren’t your half-destroyed Converse and I love my boots, so I thought, you know, maybe you’d like a pair too,” he chuckles stiffly, carding a hand through his hair.

You’re speechless, to the point that you can’t even point out that he had implied a future two months from now where you’re still dating. There’s about a hundred words you want to say to him, but none of them seem good enough.

Gently placing the boot back in the box and on the floor, you stand up and move in front of Joel and in-between his thighs. He’s looking up at you with wide eyes and you want to devour him whole.

“What’re you doin’, sugar?”

You climb into his lap and smirk down at him, “Lookin’ at ya.”

He grabs the outsides of your thighs and squeezes them, “Oh, really?”

“Yup,” you pop the ‘p’ with a smirk, throwing your arms around his neck. Pushing yourself further into his lap, your nose brushes against his.

If someone asked you what your favorite thing about Joel was, you would tell them that it’s his eyes. Those defined crows feet that kiss the corners of his gorgeous honey-brown irises are enchanting– evidence of a life, so far, well-lived.

You adore him. You–

“I love you.”

He pulls back slightly with wide eyes.

“I– sugar, you don’t have to say it if you’re not ready.”

That’s so like Joel– to think he doesn’t deserve this.

You weave your fingers into the curls that stick to the back of his neck and your smirk turns into a smile, “I’m ready and I love you.”

You nudge his nose with your own and lean in, lips connecting in a simple peck.

“I love you too– so much, sugar,” he whispers, pressing your lips together again.

“Thank you for the boots, Joel. They’re beautiful.”

“I hope it’s okay– gettin’ you one gift. I… you know I’m not exactly the richest person in the world.”

“Oh baby, is that why you’ve been picking up all those extra shifts with Tommy?”

“Yeah,” he draws out bashfully.

You kiss him again, “Miller, it is more than okay for you to give me one gift. In fact, it would’ve been okay if you hadn’t gotten me anything. Just you being here is enough for me.”

“Oh, really?”

He sighs, squeezing your thighs again, pulling you in closer until your chests touch. You can feel him beneath you. Your cheeks heat up.

“Mhm.”

It’s gentle, the way he lays you down on the bed, legs hanging off the edge. He stands between your shaking legs. Your body is buzzing with the electricity of the moment, as he looks down at you with hooded, black eyes– hungry and soft.

He takes his time kissing up your body, starting where your skin is exposed at the top of your pajama pants and making his way up, up, up, in between your heaving, clothed breasts, shirt long gone on the living room floor, and finally up to your lips. He pecks them once and sighs, arms bracketing your head.

He says your name sternly, “Are you sure you want to do this? Because you know, I am very okay with waitin’.”

You look up into those eyes, the ones you fell in love with first, and you know. You know this is what you need.

“Please,” you whine, hips stuttering under his.

He holds your hip down with his large, sturdy hand and speaks softly, “Baby, I need a yes or no.”

“Yes, yes! I’m ready, Joel, please.” 

With all the energy you have left in your buzzing and needy limbs, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss that says all the shit that’s always left unsaid. You’re my other half, I don’t think I can live without you anymore, I am yours, You are mine.

And it’s gentle, because that’s who Joel is. A father, a caregiver, a lover– he is gentle. He takes care of you, loving you down to the tips of your fingers, taking his time to savor the taste of you. It’s not perfect– there’s both of your awkward giggles while Joel pulls the condom on and your hisses as he goes a little too fast– but, to you, it’s perfect in all the ways it matters and you’re seeing stars multiple times before Joel finally finishes with a loud and gorgeous moan.

After Joel wipes you both down with a warm washcloth, you’re laying in his arms, playing with the wispy, brown hair just below his cheekbones and he’s humming in delight like a cat purrs.

“I love you,” he whispers, eyes closed.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back, kissing his chest just above his heart where you wish you could burrow yourself forever. Moving out of this bed is tomorrow’s problem. Today, you can pretend that you’re nestled in his heart chambers as his breaths slow and he falls asleep with his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace, like even in his sleep he has to keep you close enough to feel your breaths, make sure you’re still next to him.

✦ ✦ ✦

March 1995

It’s not until three months later that Joel agrees that it’s time for you to meet Sarah. You’re not sure why it takes him so long to make that decision, but you try not to think about it too much or else you start to panic and you promised Joel that you would trust him more and this is one of those moments where you just need to tell your brain to ‘shut up’ and trust him. So, you trust him.

It’s a Friday evening. You pick him up from the diner and walk the short trip with your hands intertwined. You can feel the sweat pooling on his palms, despite the cool spring weather, but you don’t let go.

You’ve been to his apartment before, many times in fact, but it’s so different when it’s not just the two of you. Walking into high-pitched giggles and the low groan of the old stand mixer that usually sits dormant on Joel’s counter is odd, but it feels right– like this is how it’s always supposed to be.

Your heart is racing. He pulls you into the apartment and you see her for the first time.

Her light brown curls bounce, confined near her temples by the two butterfly clips in them, as she jumps up and down in her sparkly pink, plastic, princess heels that clack obnoxiously on the tiled floor of the kitchen. She’s wearing a pink, long-sleeved shirt– the red top of Elmo’s head just barely peeking out of the top of her jean overalls. Her tawny-brown, chubby cheeks are pulled taught by her unending smile. She looks just like the numerous pictures Joel has shown you with pride in his eyes, but now, in front of you, she is real.

And it doesn’t scare you. It excites you.

“Papi, is that you,” you hear a graveled, feminine voice cut through the static-filled radio that’s attached to the underside of the cabinet.

And now you’re scared.

Not only is Joel’s little girl in front of you, but so is his mother. Her dark brown hair, already graying at the roots despite her young age of forty-five, is pulled into a braid that runs all the way down to her lower back. She has a blue dress on with intricate white floral designs on the skirt, long and flowing. It moves gracefully as she glides around the kitchen. In a weird way, it is so obvious that Joel is her son.

Sarah’s eyes light up when she spots her dad, hands flying over her head.

“Daddy!”

Joel’s nervous demeanor is quickly discarded, leaving a smile in its wake.

“Guppy!”

She runs to her father, heels clacking and hair bouncing, and slams into his calves. Wrapping her arms around his legs, she squeezes with a grunt. All Joel does is chuckle at her violent affection.

From her position attached to her father’s legs, she turns her head towards you with her eyebrows crossed and a frown on her face, “Who’s that, Daddy?”

You sit on your calves to get down to her level and tell her your name with a smile, “It’s really nice to meet you.”

You’re good with kids. It’s why you wanted to be a teacher in the first place, besides the joy you got from sharing your knowledge. You used to babysit for your neighbors constantly (which was a good way to make money, but also an excuse to leave the house when your dad was having one of his really bad days). So, you should be good with Sarah. Right?

Joel nudges her off of him and kneels down to her level as well, “She’s my girlfriend.”

He doesn’t beat around the bush, doesn’t talk around it, because his little girl is smart and he wants to tell her the truth.

She looks you up and down suspiciously with her big brown eyes, “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah, baby. She’s my friend that I kiss sometimes.”

Her face scrunches up in disgust, “Ew!”

You copy her expression and whisper, “It is kinda gross sometimes.”

She looks you up and down with her eyebrows furrowed. For a second, you think she might be offended by you calling her father gross; based on what Joel has told you about her, you thought she would appreciate a joke at her dad’s expense, but maybe she didn’t when it came from someone she didn’t know–

Her face lights up and she starts to giggle, hands pulling at her father’s shirt.

“You’re gross, Daddy.”

He looks down at his clothes, covered in grease and sweat and laughs, “I guess I am.”

“I wonder how I can get clean,” he draws out, tapping his chin as if in deep thought. He scoops her up into his arms and starts to rub his face and hair, covered in grime from a long shift at the diner, all over her overalls.

She screeches, her laugh boiling over and filling the little living room. Her smile is radiant.

“Daddy, put me down!” She pushes at his shoulders with her tiny hands, which, of course, doesn’t move Joel an inch, but she continues pushing as hard as she can.

“But, you said I was gross! I’m just trying to fix it!”

“You’re makin’ me gross!”

“What?!”

She looks desperately over at you, grin taking over her chubby face, and reaches for you with the arm that isn’t restrained by Joel, “Help!”

“I’ll help you!” You stand up, grab her arm, and pull lightly, making sure not to hurt her.

“He’s too strong,” you cry out dramatically.

Her voice bounces as Joel jostles her around, “Ask him to stop! Politely!”

She adds “politely”, as if she’s repeating a mantra she’s held close to her heart. It’s endearing and it makes your heart ache for the kindness that Joel has taught and shown his daughter.

You oblige her. “Gross man, can you please let go of the princess?”

He stops suddenly, placing her down on the ground with a stomp of her feet. She prances away from him and over to you, hiding behind your legs.

“Anything for the Queen,” he salutes to you and looks at Sarah with sympathy in his eyes, “I’m sorry, Princess. I thought that you wanted me to get clean.”

She giggles again, wiping her hands down the bib of her overalls, “Daddy, you have to get clean in the shower!”

He throws his hands up in the air, “The shower?! Why didn’t you just say that?”

She copies her dad, throwing her hands up in the air, laughing still.

Turning to you, she curtsies, emulating lifting a skirt with her hands, “Thank you, kind lady for saving me. I’ll ‘emem- ‘emember this.”

She struggles with the word ‘remember’, nose scrunching as she knows she isn’t saying it right, but can’t quite get the syllables around her tongue.

“Anything for the Princess,” you curtsy back at her with your real dress.

Silent up to this point, Joel’s mom finally decides to put her two cents in.

“I like your boots, mija.”

You look down at your feet and see those gorgeous cowboy boots with the embroidered lavender sprigs and the lavender leather on the sides and you’re reminded how much Joel loves you– that this is a moment to celebrate, not to ruin with your overthinking. Joel adores his mother and Sarah– it is a privilege to meet these people.

“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Miller! Joel got them for me for my birthday.”

She smirks and winks at you, “I know, I helped him pick them out.”

She throws a towel over her shoulder and pops a tray in the oven. Joel and Sarah are talking behind you in soft voices. You can’t really make out what they’re saying, but you don’t really mind. Whatever made Sarah the most comfortable in this situation is good with you.

“Well, they’re beautiful. Thank you for helping him.”

Shutting the oven door with her hip, she pulls another tray from the counter and places it on top of the stove. She does all of this while making direct eye contact with you, like she is so familiar with the space that she could move around it with her eyes closed.

“I help papi with whatever he needs and he doesn’t know the first thing about what a girl likes– that’s why I buy all of Sarah’s clothes… and don’t call me Mrs. Miller– makes me feel older than I am. Call me Essie.”

Your face heats up, “Okay, Essie.”

“Momma–”

“You–” she points at Joel, stern look on her face– “are late.”

Joel looks so guilty, you almost think he’s killed someone. “I’m sorry, Momma. Don kept me later than usual.”

“Only reason I’m mad is that you took my time away from meeting your beautiful girl.” She walks up to you and hugs you.

Oh.

You stiffen, not because the hug is unwelcome, it is very welcome, but because you can’t remember the last time you’d been hugged by anyone but Elaine and Joel– by a mother.

And you can feel all the softness of a mother that you never got to have pour through her and to you. You know she knows about what happened to your mom; Joel tells his momma everything, but you hadn’t expected her to be this kind to you. Because you’re you, of course you had expected the worst, that she would hate you, tell you to get away from her son, tell you that you weren’t good enough, but here she is, showing you all the gentleness that she had taught her son to show others. You relax into it.

An embrace can say a thousand words, and you think this one says a thousand and one.

You can feel the heat on your face climbing further down and into your chest, straight to your heart.

“Sorry, Momma,” he mumbles.

She lets go of you and you feel the loss of her. You hope that she’ll show you her kindness again– you crave that affection.

“It’s okay–” she grabs your face and puts her forehead to yours– “You’re here now.”

Her dress swishes behind her as she returns to the kitchen to continue her cooking.

“Thomas is coming over,” she yells, her voice cracking slightly at the end with the effort.

Joel’s eyes go wide, “What?”

Sarah screeches, jumping up and down, which just seems to be her blanket response to excitement, “Uncle Tommy!”

Essie laughs, her whole face lighting up with the force of it, “Your brother wanted to meet your girl.”

You’ve heard lots of things about Tommy from Joel: how he gets regularly arrested for starting fights with people, how determined and head strong he was, how much he loved Sarah, and how massive of a flirt he was. At 17-years-old, Joel’s younger brother was a huge pain in his ass, but he loved him regardless.

“So he invited himself?”

She shakes her head, “No, toro, I invited him when I told him my plans for today before he went to school.”

“But–”

A knock on the door interrupts his protest. There’s the jingle of a key and then the door slams open with a kick.

“Hello, brother!”

Joel’s face falls into a blank stare, “Hello.”

Sarah, ever the aggressive greeter, runs to her uncle with a scream, “Tom-Tom!”

“Sarah,” he yells as he picks her up and spins her around in his arms. Her screeches turn into rambunctious laughter.

Tommy is a handsome young man. He has the same unruly brown curls that Joel does, but his are more structured and lay more securely on the top of his head, unlike Joel’s where it cascades down to his neck. Big, brown eyes and strong, dark eyebrows make him look more innocent than he actually is. He’s got a flannel and a stained wife-beater on.

“Nene, I told you to dress nicely,” Essie yells, leaning out on the entryway to the kitchen.

Tommy’s confident look quickly fades from his face, the same guilty look his brother had just sported taking over, “I’m sorry, Momma.”

She hums and goes back to the kitchen.

“Shit,” tumbles out of Tommy’s mouth.

“Sh–” Sarah starts to repeat, before Tommy claps a hand over her mouth. You can hear her giggling from behind his hand.

“Tommy!”

“Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to– ack, gross,” he exclaims as Sarah licks his palm.

He deposits her onto the ground and she runs into the kitchen, screaming. He rubs his hand on his dirty jeans.

“Tommy. This is my girlfriend,” he sighs, telling him your name, which Tommy repeats as he takes your hand in his (not the one that was just licked by Sarah) and kisses your hand.

“Well, seems you already know my name, sweetheart. It’s a pleasure to meet you after all these months of Joel talkin’ ‘bout ya.”

What you wouldn’t give to be a fly-on-the-wall when Joel talked about you. You knew he’d never speak badly of you– he never spoke badly of anyone, including Tommy–, but you were curious what he could possibly be saying to them, especially the young man in front of you.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Tommy.”

He drops your hand lightly and looks over at his brother. You think you see him wink, but you’re choosing to ignore whatever you just saw. You do, however, see the blush crawling back up Joel’s neck, as you turn back to him.

Joel takes your hand in his. You lace your fingers through his and squeeze lightly, an acknowledgement of his social awkwardness.

“Well, I’m gonna go see if I can help Momma with dinner, see if she can forgive me for dressin’ like an idiot.”

Joel’s lips form a line, “See ya.”

“Oh, brother, you’ve outdone yourself. Don’t know how you managed it.” He points to you, turns on his heel, and walks to the other room.

“I’m sorry about him,” Joel mutters, eyes downcast to the floor.

You shrug, “It’s okay. He seems nice.”

Guiding your shoulder towards him so that you’re fully facing him, he kisses your forehead, “Tell me if this is all too much, okay? Meetin’ my whole immediate family at once is a lot.”

You shake your head, “Joel, I am honored that I get to meet them. It’s a little overwhelming, but I can handle myself– don’t worry about me.”

“Okay, sugar,” he sighs into your hair.

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch. Sarah spends the whole meal screeching and throwing food at her dad. Tommy spends the whole meal laughing at Sarah throwing food at her dad. Joel patiently reminds Sarah that she’s not supposed to throw food, which, of course, she doesn’t listen to and continues to throw food at her dad. And you and Essie are in your own little world, discussing everything from your schooling to how she grew up in Columbia, but met Joel’s father when she moved to the States in 1970. She is an amazing listener and an engaging storyteller, face clearly displaying her emotions as she tells you about her brilliant life so far.

Joel tells you on your walk back to your dorm that he’s pretty sure that his mom likes you more than him now. You joke that you like her better than him too. He groans, “My momma’s gonna take my girl from me.”

“Your girl?”

“Yeah, sugar, my girl.”

✦ ✦ ✦

April 1995

“Are you ever gonna hang out with me again,” Elaine whines, watching you pull a flannel out of your closet and stuff it in your bookbag next to your books that you’re bringing to study with. It was Joel’s, but it was starting to lose his scent and you were going to demand he wear it tonight so that the leather smell would seep back into the fabric.

“Lane, we hang out all the time.”

Hair fanned out below her in a halo of sorts, Elaine lays on her bed with her head off the side, feet in the air. She scoffs and throws her hands up in exasperation.

“No! That’s not true! You are never here on the weekends anymore and that’s when all the good parties are going on.”

You deadpan, “When have I ever gone to parties with you?”

“You went to some parties!”

“I went to one party and left an hour in because I got completely overwhelmed and started crying after one drink.”

“Okay… but that was freshman year and I bet you could hold your booze much better now that you’re legal.”

“Elaine, baby, sweet girl, love of my life, I do not want to go to a party.”

She pouts and crosses her arms, “Yeah, you wanna go hang out with your boy and his four-year-old all weekend.”

You clear your throat and mutter, “Actually, Sarah is staying with her abuela this weekend.”

Elaine gasps, flipping around and sitting up on all fours, “No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way,” you reply flatly.

“You are going to be in Joel’s apartment all weekend. Just the two of you.”

“Yup.”

“All by yourselves. For an entire weekend.”

“You just said the exact same thing twice and my answer is still yes.”

She bounds over to you and grabs your face in her hands, “Oh, my sweet baby, you are getting your brains fucked out all weekend, aren’t you?”

“Good god, Lane,” you shake her hands off her face and continue your packing.

She hops in place a couple times, her wild hair doing flips as she does, “You are, aren’t you?! Oh my god. This is so great, I cannot wait for you to tell me every detail when you get back.”

You glare at her for a moment and shake your head, “Fine.”

She shrieks, throwing her arms up in the air and running around your small shared room like she’s doing a victory lap.

Pumping a fist in the air, she flops backwards onto her bed and stares at the ceiling, face suddenly serious. But, you’re used to this by now, her mood changes like the wind– she has some of the most intense ADHD you’ve ever seen.

She raises her hand up.

You sigh, “Yes, Elaine?”

“I have a question.”

She sits up again, hands fidgeting in her lap, “What are you gonna do about Joel when you go back to Seattle for the summer?”

“I–” Oh.

You’d been thinking about summer break constantly since the moment you started dating Joel. It’s been a looming threat over everything you two have shared over the past 6 months, a near-constant reminder that you’ll be leaving to go back to your dad’s house in less than a month. You’d just pushed it to the back of your mind. No one ever mentioned it, so you just never brought it up.

But now that Elaine is here, sitting in front of you, confronting you with something you’ve been avoiding for months, it hits you like a ton of bricks.

“I don’t know.” You sink down into your desk chair, bag slapping on the tile at your feet.

“You really like him– don’t you, baby girl?”

You nod, staring at the floor. Two years of living in these dorms and you’d never noticed how uneven the tile was. You feel your heart beating in your ears.

“You know, you could stay with me and my parents this summer?”

“No, no, I don’t wanna bother them.”

She purses her lips, “Well… I kind of already asked them and they said that it was okay.”

You gasp, turning towards her, “What?”

“Yeah, baby, it’d be like a whole summer of sleepovers, except y’know, you’d have your own room.”

Elaine’s parents were cattle farmers. They owned a small ranch just outside of Austin with a wide expanse of land and multiple small houses throughout. Elaine didn’t live with her parents– she lived in her own small farmhouse about a quarter of a mile down the dirt road that ran through their property. You’d been there before; it was beautiful.

And not having to go back to Seattle: that would be great. If last summer was any indication of your dad’s excitement at you coming home, you had been dreading what this summer would bring.

But here’s an out. A way to avoid your father and his horrible rage. A way to stay near Joel and Sarah. A way to celebrate Sarah’s birthday with her in July like she’d been begging you to.

“Maybe.”

She grins, hands still fidgeting in her lap, but more aggressively like she’s trying to hold herself back from a big reaction to your “maybe”, which you both know just means “yes”.

“Thank you.”

“Don’ even mention it, baby. You’re the love of my life– I couldn’ bear another summer without you.”

Later that evening you're talking to Joel in his apartment over dinner, candles lit between you, Joel snug in your favorite flannel of his. You tell him about Elaine’s idea. He insists that you take her up on her offer. You send her a text that you’re going to stay. She replies with, “!!!” and then another text a few minutes later that reads, “go get sum, bb ;)”.

You make sure Joel can’t see that text.

When you’re done with dinner, you’re doing dishes together. He’s washing, you’re rinsing and drying. When you have dinner here, you switch who does what task– it keeps it fair, that’s what Joel had said when you started coming here a few months ago.

You can’t believe it’s been months with this amazing man. It makes you giddy: that time seems to pass so quickly with him.

He’s been quiet– well, more quiet than usual today. You think it might just be that he misses Sarah, but that theory quickly becomes dust when he finally starts to speak.

He clears his throat and breaks your comfortable silence.

“Talked to Tommy today.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He sniffs, “Yeah.”

“And what exactly did you two talk about?”

You know Joel and Tommy have never exactly gotten along. When you’d met Tommy the month before, that had been blatantly obvious. Joel loved Tommy. They both knew it– they’d never say it out loud though. But, their “talking” usually involved Tommy rambling about whatever he wanted and Joel grunting every other sentence so that he knew that he was still listening.

“He, uh– he says he’s gonna join the army.”

Your head whips towards him, “What?!”

He flattens his lips into a line and sniffs again, nodding.

“Was he fucking with you?”

That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence with Tommy. He regularly said things he knew would make Joel upset just to mess with him. Once, he had told Joel that his girlfriend at the time was pregnant just after his 17th birthday. Joel didn’t talk to him for a couple weeks after that.

He shakes his head, putting the sponge down into the lukewarm water.

Exasperated, you sigh, “Did he say why?”

“Says he wants to honor Dad or somethin’.”

You’d had discussions about Joel’s dad before. They were few and far-between, mostly because it was obvious that his father made him uncomfortable. He had died just six months after Sarah had been born– lung cancer caused by twenty-five years of smoking a pack a day, according to Joel.

Mark was a Vietnam veteran, left home at 18 to join the war effort. He’d met Essie when he was discharged with a prosthetic limb and a purple heart in 1970. Joel doesn’t know exactly what had happened to his dad in Vietnam, but he knew it was bad. He would wake up in the middle of the night to his dad screaming in his sleep– telling someone to move and then begging God to let his friend live.

Joel says he was terrified of his father, that he treated him like a “man” before he was old enough to have coherent conversations. What that meant was beyond you, but you understood that he wasn’t ready to talk about it and you were willing to wait. You would always wait.

“Do you– do you think he’s going to do it?”

He sighs, massaging his temples, “’M not sure. He… seemed pretty determined.”

Picking the sponge out of the water, he goes back to scrubbing, but now he’s doing it rougher, sponge squashed in his hand, dish squeaking aggressively. His eyebrows are scrunched together and you think you see a glint of something shiny in his eyes.

“Miller, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

He hands you the plate he was maiming to rinse and dry. You do so as he collects his thoughts.

Two more dishes are washed and dried before he says anything.

“Dad was a lot more gentle on Tommy than he ever was on me. He treated Tommy like his son, but he treated me like a soldier. Tommy had a dad, I had a General.”

He avoids eye contact with you as he continues.

“I think Tommy idolizes him too much, especially now that he’s gone and he never really saw the version of Dad that I did. The traumatized veteran.”

His shoulders shake as he sobs, choking on his words, “I don’t want Tommy to end up like Dad.”

Fuck, if that didn’t make you want to sob too. You hold yourself together for him, at least you try to. You can feel your emotions climbing up your throat, desperate to choke out of you.

You put a hand on his bicep and lean on his shoulder. The dirty water splashes when the sponge falls back into it, flicking water up and onto both of your shirts

A tear escapes his eye and lands on the top of your head, soaking into your hair. 

“Did you tell him that?”

Another sob claws out of his mouth, “Yeah. He wouldn’ listen.”

“Well, baby, you did all you could do. Seems like there’s no stopping him.”

He doesn’t say anything. His wet hand wraps around your forearm and pulls it around his back so that you’re hugging him. You squeeze your arms around his waist as he runs his fingers through your hair, clings on to the strands and guides your head to his neck. You can feel the dish water from his hands soaking into your scalp.

You press a kiss to the skin under your lips and he sighs, pulling you in even closer.

“Things will work out. Whatever happens, I’m always here.”

He nods his head into your shoulder. A high-pitched whine tumbles out of his lips involuntarily.

“It’ll be okay.”

Shit.

✦ ✦ ✦

July 1995

Friday, July 14th, 1995 marks Sarah’s fifth birthday. She invites all her friends from preschool and Joel invites everyone he knows would want to be there for his daughter. Joel told you that he had gone to text Tommy to invite him, forgetting that his brother had left for basic training a month ago. He sent him a text anyway– asking him how he was doing. He hadn’t gotten a response yet.

When you walked into the apartment, with the key that Joel had given you a month ago, to help Joel and Essie set up the party this morning, Sarah had stopped you at the door with a smirk on her face and something held behind her back.

“Hello, Queen Sugar!” She curtsies to you with her large puffy, pink dress that Essie had painstakingly spent the last month making her.

You curtsy back with your own dress, the purple sundress you had worn to the beach all those months ago, “Hello, Princess Sarah! May I come in?”

You really know she’s up to something when her smirk turns into a maniacal grin.

“No.”

Hm. Where the hell is Joel?

You get down on your knees so that you’re eye-level with her, “Why not, your highness?”

She finally pulls whatever is behind her back out and holds it out to you. It’s the silver plastic crown with the pink jewels that she had worn on her fourth birthday. The one she wears whenever she’s feeling particularly royal. It’d been slightly too big for her then, but it fit her like a glove now. 

“Because you aren’t wearing your crown yet. And you know it’s improper to attend a social event as the queen without your crown!”

Well, you didn’t know that. But you knew now. Joel’s doormat was really uncomfortable to kneel on.

“Well, of course, your highness, how could I forget that?”

She nods her head once resolutely.

“But I must ask, why aren’t you wearing a crown?”

She puts her hands on her hips, “I’ve decided that since it is your first Guppy birthday, your majesty, that you must wear the crown! It’s only fair that I share.”

Holding the crown out in front of her, she declares with determination, “All hail, Queen Sugar!”

You hear Essie’s graveled voice call through the apartment behind Sarah, “Mariposa, come help your abuela with decorating your cookies!”

She plops the crown on your head and runs into the apartment, leaving the door wide open. Well, so much for decorum.

“Hey, sugar.” A hand pops into your vision from the stairs beside you.

He’s got a couple bags of decorations in his left arm and is holding out the other for you to take.

“Hey,” you groan as he pulls you up onto your feet, “You want some help?”

“Nah, I got it.” He urges you inside with a wave of his hand and he walks in behind you.

The furniture that usually is cluttered around his living room is pushed to the walls, so that there’s more space for the kids to play. You notice a basket full of her toys sits in wait in the corner of the room, filled past the brim with pink.

“Lovin’ the crown, baby,” he smiles, setting the paper bags on the couch.

It’s crooked, askew from Sarah’s hasty exit.

“Thanks. Apparently I wasn’t allowed to attend a public event without one because it was ‘improper’.” You put quotes on the last words with your fingers.

“Well, if the princess says…” Coming around the side of the couch, he stands in front of you. You look up at him through your lashes as he adjusts the crown so it sits straight on your head. He’s done it enough with his little girl to know how to get it just right so the tight plastic doesn’t dig into your scalp.

“Thank you,” you whisper and press a chaste kiss to his lips.

He chuckles, snaking his arms around your waist, “Anything for the queen.”

You hum as he presses another kiss to your lips, longer this time, soft. You love these moments with Joel– the ones where he’s put himself in the moment, so that he isn’t thinking about the millions of things he needs to get done. But really, you love every moment you get to have with Joel.

“Daddy!” Sarah’s running into the living room with frosting smeared on her hands and all across her cheek and Joel puts himself to work getting it off her in the bathroom as you start to pull decorations out of the bags. Her birthday party this year is Sesame Street themed. When Joel had suggested it to her, she had jumped around the room screeching about all the decorations she needed and where to put them and how she needed to invite Elmo now so he would get his invitation on time. You had been in charge of the return letter from Elmo where he reluctantly declined her invitation with a crude drawing of himself in the bottom corner (Joel didn’t stop laughing at how horrible it looked for a week afterwards, “He looks like he got run over by a semi, baby.”). She wrote him back saying she understood and drew a heart and a smiley face at the bottom.

“Elaine’s gonna be late, she got held up with something.” You tell Joel as you hand him a freshly-blown balloon. He’d gotten the frosting off Sarah and then urged her into a nap so that she could be at full energy for her party.

He chuckles, “Oh, really? And what was that?”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh with a grin, “Robin.”

The mean blonde you had met in November in your dorm room after finding out about Sarah has been slowly worming her way into your heart. While you’ve been spending most of your summer with Joel, Elaine’s been spending most of her’s with Robin, who had stayed on campus this break to take summer classes. At first you’d been hesitant to encourage the relationship, Robin hadn’t made a very good impression, but Elaine seemed really happy, happier than you’d seen her in your entire friendship, and Robin’s grumpy attitude was growing on you.

“Good for her.”

“Yeah, good for her, but not so good for my sleep schedule.”

Turns out living in a house alone with Elaine all summer was great, except for the fact that the walls were a little too thin for your liking. You’d been learning a bit more about Elaine’s sex life than you wanted to know.

You watch as Joel attempts to wrap the string around the knot on the balloon with little success, his large fingers getting in the way of themselves.

“Gimme,” you mumble, holding your hand out.

He reluctantly hands the balloon and string over with a bashful smile.

Deftly, you string the balloon and watch it rise to the ceiling as you let it go. It wobbles back and forth and then finally stays in place.

“You could stay here tonight if you wanted? You’ve got those extra clothes you left in my drawer just in case.”

The drawer.

The drawer had been a very big deal to you when he first offered it casually one night when you’d realized you had forgotten to bring an outfit for the next day. 

“You already left a toothbrush here, just leave a couple outfits here too. I’ll clear a drawer for you.”

Joel was very confused when you had started to cry. Through heaving breaths and tears you had explained to him that you had never been given a drawer before.

It didn’t help that you were PMSing really bad that day (which had been the entire reason you had come over in the first place).

You give him a smile, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

You know there won’t be any sex, Joel made it pretty clear the first time you had stayed here when Sarah was home that he was not comfortable with that while she was in the apartment. The wall's thinness didn’t leave anything to the imagination and her room was right next to his. That was okay though, you enjoyed sleeping on the heater that was Joel Miller and that was good enough for you.

“Okay.” You stand up and give him a kiss on the cheek.

He pats your ass as you walk towards the kitchen. You send him a glare back with a smirk.

Everyone starts arriving at four, except your best friend, and you watch as Joel tries his best to wrangle six toddlers to do the activities that he’d planned. He bought some coloring books and told the kids to bring their own crayons because he had thought that maybe that would be a calming activity, but as you had predicted two weeks ago when he told you his plan, it had quickly devolved into drawing on the fold out table and somehow finding markers and drawing on each other. You helped him toss the drawing stuff in his room when the kids were distracted by Sarah telling the story of how you had almost “improperly” walked into her birthday party without your crown on. The kids thought she was hilarious.

Sarah is instantly captivated when Elaine walks through the door, like everyone is when they first meet her.

“Your hair is so pretty,” Sarah squeals, balancing on the balls of her feet.

Elaine gasps, a smile lighting up her face as she hands you her bag to put in Joel’s room, “Oh my god, your hair is so pretty too, baby girl.”

“I’m Sarah Esperanza Miller.” She recites her full name with a smile on her face, proud of her name.

Elaine holds her hand out for her to take, “Hi, Sarah. I’m Elaine Jo MacKenzie.”

She perks up, her whole body suddenly standing at attention. “Wait here!”

Elaine grabs your elbow and pulls you into her body, giving you a light kiss on the cheek while you both watch Sarah run to her room across the house– weaving and dodging through the crowd. She peeks around your body to look at Joel, a dreamy grin on her face.

“She’s beautiful, Joel.”

He smiles, running a hand through his hair, “Thank you.”

She looks up at you, “You’re a lucky motherfucker.”

You laugh lightly, “I know.”

She adjusts the crown on your head.

“It’s crooked,” she explains, nodding when she determines that it’s perfect.

You nuzzle your nose into her hair; it smells like strawberries.

“Thank you.”

When Sarah comes back, she’s hiding something behind her back, an excited smile taking over her chubby cheeks.

She goes to Elaine, pulling her arm out of your own and down so she’s kneeling in front of her.

“Can I touch your hair?”

Joel sighs, “Baby, that’s not–”

Elaine doesn’t break eye contact with her as she answers her, “Of course, you can. Thank you for asking. That was really polite.”

Sarah looks up to her dad, silently asking him for permission and he nods his head.

“As long as she says ‘yes’, then it’s okay.”

Elaine nods too when she turns back to her and Sarah tucks Elaine’s puffy mess of hair behind her ear and sticks a small, pink butterfly clip just above her ear. Joel recognizes it as her favorite hair accessory, one of the only ones that Joel can easily style her hair with.

Elaine gasps, jumping up and finding the nearest mirror, and smiles when she sees herself in it. She delicately adjusts the clip so that it is more secure. “Oh, baby girl, I love it! Thank you!”

Sarah giggles uncontrollably, “I knew it would look pretty on you!”

“Well, of course, you knew– you’re a genius, baby!”

She kneels back on the ground and holds her arms out, an invitation for a hug. Sarah runs into her arms and she huffs with the force of her tiny body colliding with her chest.

You knew that Sarah would love Elaine; her eccentric joy was so magnetic that this automatic connection between the two of them just made sense. She had always made friends easily, but Elaine was an expert at entertaining children.

Sarah runs off to go play with her friends, so Elaine comes back up to take your arm again.

“Hey, we’re matching,” she points out, flicking the big jewel on the crown on your head.

“We are.”

Elaine’s eyes soften as she looks down at you, always taller than you when she actually straightened out her spine (which she so rarely did).

“Sarah’s girls.”

You nod.

Sarah’s girls.

series masterlist | masterlist of all masterlists 🌼 | eras masterlist 🌻

[talaok]

What's a fanfiction?

"You wrote it, I think it's only right you get to experience it, babydoll"

Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: By mistake, you send Joel, your neighbor, your dad’s best friend, a fanfic you wrote, and when you go to his house to talk to him about it, your worst fear comes to life… and then your biggest dream.

Warnings: age-gap, he blackmails you (but youre very much into it) smut| oral sex (m receiving), facefucking, 1 lil threat of anal, p in v sex, creampie, sir kink, small little breeding kink moment, so much degradation, and a lil bit of praising.

a/n: i am aware this is not written very well, but i was thinking too much and then i remembered that at the end of the day i do this for fun and its not that serious, so please overlook all the shitty parts. love ya very much<3

Read.

Read-

He read it. He fucking read it and you're gonna jump off a cliff and die.

You swore- you fucking swore you sent it to Miley yesterday night. Right before you went to sleep, you finished writing it and sent to her- except obviously, that wasn't what had fucking happened.

You'd sent it to him

And now you needed to find a fucking solution.

__ __ __

God even knocking felt like torture,

"oh hi y/n" Sarah's smile was nothing like her dad's, it was all kindness and sweetness, while Joel's... well Joel's always had something strange lurking behind his.

"Hi Sarah" you forced your lips to mimic hers, although the nerves were making it difficult "Is your dad home? I kinda need to talk to him"

"mh-mh" she nodded, gesturing for you to come in "he's in his study upstairs"

You stepped into the house just as she crouched down to pick up a gym bag

"You know where that is right?" she asked "I'm late for practice, I gotta go"

You felt your heart drop as her words sank in.

She was going out- she would be leaving you alone with him, in his house, in his study-

But then again, considering what it was you were here to talk about, maybe it was for the best.

"Yeah, don't worry" you forced another smile

"great" she beamed "see you later then"

And just like that, she was out of the house, and you were sole in the middle of your neighbor's entrance.

__ __ __

Again, another knock that felt very much like a punch to the gut

"come in"

His voice was warm and strong like it always was, that same voice that made your panties dampen just at the thought of it.

"H-hey Mr. Miller" you swallowed thickly, pushing open the door as if an army of zombies waited on the other side

"Darlin'" he nodded at you from behind his wooden desk, a hint of a grin shadowing his lips

Darlin'

Darlin'

God this fucking man

"h-hey" you said again, cursing internally while you tried remembering why you were even there.

Oh, right. Just about the most awkward thing ever.

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest, making the hair at the nape of your neck stand.

"Whatcha doing here, doll?"

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, and then you felt your eyes fall to the floor as your hands fiddled with the edge of your skirt.

The skirt you purposely wore to come here- for him-

god what a stupid fucking-

"Thatta real pretty skirt you got on"

Your eyes snapped up to him, but he took his time glancing away from your legs.

"Oh- I- thank you" you murmured

"Jus' call 'em like I see 'em, darlin'" he shrugged, leaning back into his chair "Now's that all you came here for? To show me your new pretty skirt?"

"n-no" you rushed in to say, perhaps too quickly to be fully believable "I came here because I- uhm" You bit your bottom lip, the nervous fiddling starting back up again

"I ain't gonna bite babydoll"

Fuck- at this rate your panties would start melting.

"last night-" you gulped "I kinda- I... well I sent you something by mistake"

"ah" he hummed, raising his brows as he clicked on something on the laptop next to him "I gotta say, issa real... interesting story this one"

No-

NO

Fuck my life and everything ever in the existence of the universe fuckfuckfuck-

"who's..." he trailed off, reading off his screen "Javier?"

Your lungs had turned to stone and your mind to dust.

This couldn't be really happening, no, I mean, even if he'd read it for some reason he surely wouldn't be... taunting you for it.

"Mr. Miller-"

"real lucky guy" he said, his lips twitching into a soft smirk as he looked at you curiously "You brought him home to meet your daddy yet?"

"n-no" you stuttered, your mind a big ashamed mess and your whole body frozen like a statue "n-no he's not... real"

You watched his brows come together in confusion.

"what's that mean he ain't real?"

A shaky sigh fled your lips as you surrendered to your fate

"He's a character... f-from a tv show"

He remained silent, and as comfortable with silence as you were it was a different kind of story when Joel Miller was staring at you... so you talked again.

"T-that's a fanfiction, I- I write them sometimes, it's... fun"

His eyes searched yours for answers, faint amusement sparking in the back of his irises.

"what's a fanfiction, doll?"

Death wasn't such a scary thing after all- yeah it sure as hell was a better alternative to this.

"It's a... made-up story, that people- that I- sometimes write about fictional characters I like- a-and then I post it for p-people to read"

"And this Javier..."

"Narcos" you blurted out "H-he's from the show Narcos, he's not real"

His mouth twitched into a subtle smile, his eyes raking all over your body as if he was checking to see if it was really you in front of him

"I've seen that show" he said, his brow raising "Ain't he a bit old for you, babydoll?"

"Y-yes well- I-I-"

But you had no excuse for that, you could never tell him the truth, about how much you liked older men... about all the celebrity crushes double your age- so you just bit your lip, looking down at the floor.

The noise of his chair creaking as he got up made your heart skip a beat, but it stopped completely only when you heard him step closer to you... until he was right before you.

The only thing you could see were the socks covering his feet, and part of his black jeans- you didn't have it in you to actually look at him, to see him laughing at you, but you had no other choice when two of his fingers pulled your chin up.

"so you sit in your room, imagining this old man doin' all this stuff to you, and then you write it down?" he spoke, his beautiful mouth so very close to you "And here I was thinkin' you were a good little girl"

Your breath caught in your throat at those words, and he... yeah he definitely noticed.

"Please don't tell my dad"

"well I don't know" he moved some hair from your face, "I think this is somethin' your daddy ought to know"

a well of fear dipped into your belly, your eyes widening

"n-no please" you begged "Please Mr. Miller don't, I'll do anything- anything at all"

"oh sweetie" he cooed, "that ain't somethin' you can tell a man, especially not after he's read all the dirty things you fantasize about in your pretty little head"

"Mr Miller-" you bit your lip

"Mr Miller?" he repeated, looking down at you like you were the smallest little creature in the world "That ain't what you were calling Javi now, was it?"

A small, almost imperceptible gasp left your mouth.

He couldn't be saying... no right?- except...

"Joel-"

"that ain't it either" he shook his head, his thumb tracing the shape of your lower lip "you know what it is babygirl"

Either you were gonna make a fool of yourself, or this really was what he wanted.

"S-sir"

The slightest, most feline smirk pulled at his lips in satisfaction "thatta girl" he murmured "you don't want your dad to know what a dirty lil' girl his daughter really is?"

His breath was fanning on your mouth, and his touch was making your legs turn to jelly.

"n-no" you shook your head almost imperceptibly

"no?" he asked again, just to see you squirm, just to savor this moment for a little bit more.

"no sir"

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat, his eyes looking into yours, memorizing every inch of your face, of the anxiety, the ardor, the plead in your expression.

"then get on your knees"

Your eyes widened in shock, the air going up your throat suddenly getting stuck

"w-wha-"

"what?" he asked, not even sounding like himself anymore. His tone was sweet, calm even, but something almost dire lurked underneath his words.

"you seemed eager to do it when Javi asked" he tilted his head, his fingers still holding your chin.

If you didn't know better you would have guessed it was jealousy that traced his tone whenever he spoke the name of your fantasies's protagonist... little did he know the main reason why you even liked Javier was his resemblance to him- to Joel.

"Mr- sir" you stuttered "I-"

"I don't like to repeat myself y/n" he spoke sternly, his eyes boring into yours "Do you want your daddy to know or not?"

You didn't need to answer, you only held his stare as he let your face go, and you slowly, unsurely, and awkwardly got to your knees.

"wasn't so hard now was it?" he asked, his eyes dark enough to fade into the night sky "what are you waiting for?"

"I-"

"You need instructions babydoll?" he chuckled "'cause I ain't gonna give 'em to ya" he said while your heart pounded in your chest "I know you know how to do it" he smirked "Described it so well in your little fanfiction"

"b-but I-" you tried to take a deep breath but doing anything while he towered over you, while his crotch was right in your line of sight was proving to be very very difficult "I've only ever done this once" you gulped, trying to keep eye contact

"yeah?" he smiled, his hand going to the top of your head, gently patting it...that really shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. "then how come you knew exactly what to do with Javi? don't tell me you just guessed"

He either didn't believe you, or was really not expecting that. But it was the truth- you'd only ever done anything once... and it's not like it had even felt that great.

"Well, I- I do research... and I- I read a lot"

If you thought he looked predatorial before... you had no idea how bad it could really get.

"research huh?" he mocked, his voice as deep as it could get "Oh baby you're digging yourself a hole here" he tsked, shaking his head while looking almost disappointed "I really think your daddy ought to know about all the research his lil' girl's doing under his roof"

"No!" you begged, your bottom lip trembling.

"No?" he asked, tracing it with his thumb "Then I suggest you make it good, babygirl"

And that was that.

Your trembling hands undid his belt, then lowered his zipper, and finally pulled his pants down until they pooled at his feet.

Fuck

He was huge- even with the boxers still on it was very clear the man was just massive-

"I don't like to be teased y/n"

"s-sorry sir" you responded automatically, noticing his cock twitch within the confines of the fabric in appreciation of your obedience.

You had to do it slowly, you had to pull his boxers down slowly so you could have time to calm down, to not panic in front of the huge cock that was gonna be right in front of you at any moment-

And yet it didn't work- a soft gasp fled your mouth as you freed his manhood.

He only chuckled, watching the fear in your eyes, and quite frankly, very much enjoying it.

"I'll tell ya if you're doing it wrong" he simply spoke, his hand going to the back of your head to guide you closer to where he wanted you.

He was getting impatient. And you didn't want to disappoint him.

Yes, he was blackmailing you, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been dreaming of this for years.

You looked like a frightened kid as you wrapped your right hand around him, and you looked even more out of place as you opened your mouth and started fitting his length inside of it.

A weak grunt rumbled from his chest "Hollow your cheeks" he ordered, having you obey in a heartbeat.

"fuck that's good" he groaned now, watching you intently as you started bobbing your head, trying to fit more of him into your mouth "Good little slut"

You didn't know a moan was gonna flee your mouth until it had- until your whole face felt hot and you waited terrified for Joel's reaction.

Exect he was smiling- no- grinning like you'd just given him the best gift he'd ever received.

"Oh, you're really something else ain't ya, darlin'?"

"mhp" Your muffled noises were all the more entertaining to him, especially paired up with the sight of your thighs rubbing together.

You were so fucking wet you feared at any moment you would start dripping onto the floor.

"so needy" he murmured, his hand now gathering your hair in a makeshift bun "You wanna touch yourself, baby girl? wanna feel good while you make me feel good?"

"mh-mh" you tried to nod, to beg, to say yes please for the love of god let me.

"that's too bad" he tutted, sounding like he was holding back a laugh "Javi didn't let you do that now, did he?" he smirked "You wrote it, I think it's only right you get to experience it, babydoll"

But before you had time to ask yourself if he meant all of it, he'd spoken again.

"that all you can take?" he asked, watching the first half of his cock in your mouth with amusement "Here- how 'bout I help you out darlin'" he smirked, his hips retracting just to thrust into your mouth-

It wasn't a hard jab, but still you choked, and then you choked some more as he did it again, watching you fit more of him into your mouth as saliva drooled to your chin and your eyes watered.

You could feel the texture of every inch of his dick with your tongue, the feel of his veins, and the taste of his precum were all you were aware of.

"like that- see, jus' needed a lil' help" he groaned "Even a slut like you needs it sometimes"

His pace had quickened, and tears were now streaming down your face.

"shh" he shushed you once you choked yet another time "I know it's big baby" he cooed, his thrust much less gentle than his words, although that was all an act too "I know, I know... but you're gonna have to be a good whore for me and take it aaall into that slutty little throat, ok?" he murmured "just try to breathe through your nose"

What did he mean try?

What if you tried and failed?

But you weren't actually worried- you had never thought being horny could actually be painful, and yet, there you were, literally so wet and turned on it hurt.

You couldn't even see him anymore through all the tears covering your eyes, and you didn't even realize you were actively choking and making a complete mess of yourself, all you could feel was his big fat cock, and dream about how it would feel inside of you.

"God fuckin-" He groaned like an animal as he finally bottomed out, his dick making a permanent dent into your throat at this point "Jesus Christ"

He stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, watching you struggle, and then, just like that, he was out- and you could breathe again.

He didn't even give you time to catch your breath, to finish coughing like a maniac that he'd already given you another order.

"get up," he said "take off your clothes"

He really did want to recreate the fic- you were- you were about to have sex with Joel Miller, THE Joel Miller, your neighbor and dad's best friend Joel Miller.

oh fuck

"What did I say about repeating myself?"

You scrambled to your feet, pulling your shirt off at the same time.

You heard him snort but didn't pay it any mind as you took your bra and skirt off as quickly as you could.

You really were desperate.

But when it came to your panties you slowed, everything suddenly feeling very real.

"what are you waiting for?"

"s-sorry sir" you mumbled, finally dropping them at your feet.

A soft groaned fuck climbed up his throat as he examined every inch of your body.

You would be covering yourself, feeling a little self-conscious, if it wasn't for the fact that his gaze had turned you to stone.

"pick your panties up" he said as if getting out of a trance.

You frowned, confused, but obeyed nonetheless.

Maybe he didn't like the mess...

"Put 'em in the first drawer," he said, nodding back to his desk.

Oh

He followed your every move as you walked past him, but it was only when you were at his desk, that he started stalking towards you.

He was right beside you now, and somewhere along the way he'd lost his shirt, because your back was now pressed against his chest, and your ass was right against something else.

"I'm keepin' those" he murmured, his deep voice right next to your ear, his hands going to grip your waist.

You dropped the panties where he asked and nodded, turning to him, finding his face, his mouth, but an inch from your own.

"Yes sir"

His cock twitched again right against your backside as his mouth ghosted yours.

"Bend over"

You swallowed thickly, doing as he said.

You shivered feeling the table's cold wood meet your skin, but you got hot all over again once you felt Joel's words.

"Spread your legs"

You did.

"What an obedient slut I've turned you into" he grinned, proud of himself

"Where do you want it?"

You felt his cock slide between your cheeks, making you whimper and arch your back.

"here?" he slid it in between your legs, connecting with your clit.

You moaned as you shook your head no

"here?" he asked again, this time his dick prodding at your asshole.

You gasped as you mumbled "N-no sir- please"

"You want in your throat again babydoll, 's that it?" he teased you, his tip still leaving smears of his precum on your hole

"mh-mh" you shook your head no again "Please"

"no?" he snickered, "Then where?"

"Here?" he asked, the tip of his dick finally getting exactly where you wanted him "in your slutty lil' pussy?"

"yes- p-please sir- I-"

"say it" he taunted you, almost slipping in.

"I- I need it"

"what do you need?"

"Y-Your cock sir" you begged

"Where do you need my cock?"

"I-I need it in my pussy" you cried- he was so close if he would just- "I need your cock in my pussy sir, please I- I'm begging you-"

"good little slut"

He pushed in with one singular, hard thrust, making you cry out so loud the whole neighborhood probably heard.

He was so big it kind of burned at first, but as he thrust in again and you heard him groan in pleasure, there was no going back- you were in complete bliss... and your brain had turned to mush.

You were moaning- loudly.

"fuck-" he grunted "you're such a whore darlin'"

The sound of how wet you were as he plunged into your heat was filthy.

"Y'know- I usually give women an orgasm before I fuck 'em," he said as his balls slapped rhythmically against your skin "but you're just a whore- and whores don't deserve to be treated with respect, do ya?" Your back arched, feeding him more of yourself as your walls squeezed around him "Nah, you deserve to be used. Used like the little sluts that you are" he kept grunting, not paying any mind to how loud you were being, or how the desk had started to slip because of how hard his thrusts were "And it ain't like you need it, is it darlin'?" he chuckled, suddenly pulling you up, his right arm around your torso keeping you pinned against him "you're makin' a mess" he murmured into your ear, shivers running up your spine "and besides, this' how you wanted it- wrote it jus' like this in your lil' story didn't ya, ya little slut?"

He bit your earlobe just as his dick hit your cervix, making your brain short-circuit.

It was all so hot- so fucking hot.

"I can't imagine what your daddy would say" his mouth was on your neck now, but his pace was the same as ever, as hard and unapologetic as it could get "knowing what nasty things his little girl likes to think- to write" he chuckled "bet the poor guy would have the fuckin' big one if he knew"

"if he knew how you like to be fucked by men 30 years older than you" he groaned, feeling you squeeze him as you whimpered his name incoherently "if he knew how tight you get when I tell you how much of a slut you are"

Your eyes were rolled back, and your head had dropped against his chest

"please"

"If he knew how good you fuckin' take my cock" he murmured right against your mouth, your legs trembling "How desperate you are for it"

He was going even faster, and he was now supporting your whole body because your legs weren't working anymore.

"If he knew what a fuckin' whore he raised" he grunted, plunging his cock as deep as it could go, molding your body to him "how she's my whore now"

And that was it- that was it.

You felt actual tears stream down your cheeks as bliss took over your body- as you cried and moaned and trembled until you were done, until you'd finally recovered.

"I'm gonna come inside babygirl" It wasn't a question, it was an order, just like every one he'd given you for the past hour "Jus' like Javi" he grunted, his thrusts more erratic now "except this is real life baby- and you better hope it doesn't stick" he smirked, feeling your walls squeeze involuntarily at his words "God you're such a slut"

"Now take it all like a good one"

You couldn't help but join his moaning as he came, as he filled you up to the very brim.

You were a mess- cum was already running down your thighs as he slipped out of you, but you still followed his lead and started dressing again- only your panties were in his drawer and the walk back home would be a real awkward one.

"You post these stories?"

There was no point in lying, you'd already confessed to it.

"I- yes" you swallowed, putting your bra on "o-on Tumblr"

You could very well see he'd never heard of the app

"How are you called on there?"

He'd stepped closer to you, watching you fiddle with your shirt in your hands.

His belt was unbuckled, his jeans still open, and you were starting to feel ready for round two already.

"S-sir you want t-to-”

"I gotta know what other things your daddy can't know about” he murmured, moving a piece of hair from your face “and all the things I’m gonna do to my lil’ slut”

[starlitlakes]

Down bad horrible and horrendous for a one Eddie Munson. Please marry me

[seeingivy]

love of my life

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

CONTENT WARNING: mentions of suicidal thoughts, parental abuse, please read at your own discretion. protect your peace!!!

sukuna realizes, only in the exact moment that your arms wrap around his waist and he feels you bury your cheek against the bare skin of his back, that he should have known you would have woken up if he left you in bed alone. 

it’s a quiet panic first – to wipe the wetness away from his cheek, to swallow hard enough to make sure that his voice doesn’t waver when he speaks – to make sure that you don’t clock the fact that he was crying. 

“i get why you complain all the time now, ryomen.” you murmur. 

it’s enough to make his heart skip a beat – the soft muffled tone and the sleep still heavy in your voice – as he tries to muster a normal response. 

“and why’s that, princess?” 

“bed is cold without you. i can barely sleep.” 

sukuna turns around, watching as you lazily hook your arms around his torso and lean your head against his shoulder, your eyes still pinched shut from the brightness of the light. he takes the quiet second to observe the bruise by your eye, swollen to its peak, and it nearly makes him cringe. 

he knew all too well that it would puff up for all of today, that there would be a lingering headache for two days, before it started to fade to green and yellow before disappearing at the end of the week. 

“should ice this, doll. does it hurt?” he whispers. 

“it’s okay. lights are kind of bright, but –” 

“take an advil. i’ll get you one.” 

he quickly steadies you out of his embrace, before darting away to the cabinets, rummaging through as he produces a glass of water for you. and you lean against the counter, making the mistake of trying to rub your eyes, forgetting the sensitive spot on the left. 

you hiss at the sensation, which has him turning around with wide eyes. 

“sorry. i rubbed my eyes and i forgot.” 

it’s a quiet laugh that comes out of sukuna, before he walks up to your side, placing the pill in the palm of your hand and the glass in the other. you shoot him a grateful smile – which is when you’re able to clock the rimmed pink around his eyes and the tear streaks on his face. 

you immediately set the glass down, reaching forward and rubbing the side of his cheek, only to have it confirm your suspicions when the wetness transfers to your fingers. 

“hey. what’s wrong?” you whisper. 

he shakes his head as he lifts your left hand closer, insisting that you take the advil. you oblige, quickly swallowing it down with the water, before you hook your hands around his neck. you stand on the tips of your toes, trying to level yourself with his eyes, and insist for the answer again. 

“allergies,” he responds. 

you frown.

“sukuna.” you whine. 

you lean forward, closing the distance between you, as you sag your weight onto his shoulder. you’re not sure what it does for him – rubbing circles into his back, pressing lazy kisses to his shoulder – but it only makes him pull you closer, almost suffocating the air out of you when he squeezes harder. 

“you don’t have to tell me. i just want to know you can if you want to, because i’m ready to listen.” 

“yesterday was a lot for you. we can talk about –” he starts. 

“yesterday was more for you than it was for me. yuuji and i already have plans to go to coffee that he made last night, i have a feeling it’ll go well, and…my eye will heal. sammy and i kind of debriefed everything after on text and her rage weirdly made me feel better. but i know that was a lot for you and that you don’t have a sammy that fixed things for you or yuuji trying to resolve it with you. so i’m fine, i’m just worried about you.” 

sukuna leans back, placing his hands around your waist before he lifts you onto the counter. 

“did you want hot chocolate? i made some.” 

you cringe at the deflection, but turn to the left to find the little saucepan boiling on the stove. 

“just share with me.” 

“okay baby, you say that but then you drink the entire thing.” sukuna deadpans. 

“i won’t. it’s the middle of the night and i know i won’t sleep if i do.” you respond. 

sukuna shrugs, as he tilts the saucepan to the left, and pours it into the mug. he slides it over to you, letting you take the first sip, before you hand it back to him and let him take the next. 

you can’t help but stare at the tear marks. 

it was a rare occasion to see sukuna cry, but not unheard of. it was only when things felt really hopeless in your opinion, that he’d let himself get far enough to cry. or really, when it only felt appropriate or safe for him too. 

you remember in passing that yuuji used to think that sukuna was heartless, because he had never seen him cry before. and now that you think about it, it makes you think about sammy – about how you can’t really recall if she ever cried when you were younger. 

it makes you feel guilty – that she never felt safe enough to. that maybe she felt the need to front like sukuna did for yuuji, that he was so responsible for him that he couldn't show that he was struggling either and maybe she felt that way too. 

“i want to tell you…it’s just that…” 

he pauses. 

“i don’t want you to take it the wrong way. i’m really upset this happened to you, this…this makes me more furious and frustrated than you understand and i…” 

you snort. 

“i have an idea. we were barely two weeks into dating and you punched your boss for me, so..” 

sukuna smiles, before pausing. 

“do you want me to be mad? about yesterday?” he asks. 

you pause. 

“what?” 

“like. like would it upset you if that wasn’t the main thing i was thinking about? like later, if we fought or something, you’d be like…oh i got punched in the face and he wasn’t mad enough about that because he was thinking about his own things? because…” 

“no.” 

sukuna raises his eyebrows, almost like he doesn’t believe you. 

“no.” you confirm. 

you reach for his hands, locking your fingers in with his free one. 

“i know that this is all complicated. that this might bring up bad memories for you.” you whisper. 

you can see the recognition clock on his face, that you know exactly what he’s talking about because you remember, as he gives you a mere nod. sukuna feels like you might know how to read his mind. or that he’s just given so much of himself to you at this point that it’s impossible for you not to. 

“i don’t want you to be mad. i don’t need you to defend me or protect me. i want you to be whatever it is you’re feeling, i want you to talk to someone about this if you never have, and to know that i love you even though –” 

he holds his hand up, pinching his eyes shut, as he starts to shake his head. you stop, leaving the silence hanging between the two of you before he talks again. 

“i’m sorry. i love you but it’s…it’s…” 

his voice starts to shake and the tears rise again in his eyes. and you can tell that he’s trying to swallow it down as hard as he can, trying to push it down, and it makes your chest twist in an unpleasant way. 

“it’s too much to hear, right now. i’m thinking a lot of things and it’s just hard to…” 

“okay. i’m sorry.” 

he winces. 

“fuck. please don’t think i’m turning down your affection or that i’m mad at you. i love you. i love all the sweet things you say to me. i’m just not used to this especially when i feel like this and i –” 

you offer him a smile. 

“i know.” you whisper. 

sukuna pauses before his eyes soften. it’s the same lovesick look in his eyes that he gives you – the almost tangible sign to you that he loves you, in earnest. 

“you know?” he asks, voice cracking. 

you can’t help but frown as you reach forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“i know it can be a lot when you aren’t used to it. i know it’s not personal. i just hope you know that i will eventually make you reach a point where you…you can accept that from me. i’ll keep trying till i die if i have to.” you state. 

sukuna smiles, before closing the space between the two of you, and placing a lingering kiss on your lips. 

“i cut you off. you were saying something.” you state. 

“yeah. yeah…i was just…” 

sukuna pauses, before he turns around towards one of the back cabinets. it’s a little white package, with his name inscribed on the label that he hands to you. you give him a strange look, as you open up the box, only to find an insane amount of wrapping. 

after ripping all of the tape and paper out, you pull out two little ceramic mugs, flowery designs of pink and green on them. 

“mugs?” 

“i realized all my mugs here are boring. i bought you some and they’re actually like…bridgerton special edition or something. that one is season one and that one is season two. i saw it and just figured you’d like them because –” 

“oh shut up. you’re so cute!” you respond, holding the little mug close to your chest. 

“you’re very easily impressed.” he states. 

“you saw mugs and thought of me! and your mugs are so boring, it’s like you were reading my mind.” 

the thought of you being a mind reader crosses sukuna’s mind again. 

you give him a gleeful smile, which makes his face light up, before he takes them from you and places them to the sides. 

“about the mugs. i just…i couldn’t sleep after you finally did because i was stuck thinking about everything. mainly of what i was going to do tomorrow morning, when you woke up. i texted sammy, she’s going to come for breakfast to check on your eye with her friend. and i was going to make french toast, surprise you with the mugs before you woke up, and…and make hot chocolate the way you like. i even already timed the doordash order because we don’t have marshmallows and i just…” 

you place your hands on his cheeks and squeeze hard. it’s an eye roll that he gives you in response, but you can see the smallest whisper of a smile on his lips. 

“have i ever told you that you’re the love of my life?” 

“that’s a big statement. the love of your entire life? you’re only twenty-two, angel.” 

“love. of. my. life.” you confirm. 

he smiles, shaking his head. 

“you’re so sweet. why would i ever get mad at you thinking that?” you ask. 

sukuna pauses, before dropping his eyes to your hands. you offer him your free hand and nurse the filled mug of hot chocolate in  your free one, as he fiddles with your hands in his, cracking each of the knuckles in your hand. you can tell that he’s trying to think of what it is, trying to word whatever it is that’s in his mind, and you only squeeze his hands in yours as a signal. 

to take his time. 

“the first time my dad hit me, i…” 

you hear sniffling and look up only to find a steady stream of tears pouring out of his eyes. it makes your heart drop in your chest, as you push off of the counter, and wrap your arms around him. he buries his head into your neck, the wetness trickling down your shirt, as you quietly hum into his ears, running your free hand through his hair. 

it takes him a few minutes to compose himself. but you can tell that his panic is tapering when his breaths start slowing down and he starts wiping the wetness on the back of his hand. he pulls back, giving you a shaky nod, as you lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek before he continues. 

“the first time my dad hit me, i was seven.” 

you feel your throat dry. the first time he had come to your house after the fact was when he was twelve. meaning there was five years you hadn’t even thought to consider, to inspect in your memories for signs of it all. 

“no one was home. yuuji had piano and my mom was picking him up and he…he was going through some of my stuff without permission. they were just drawings but i…i can’t remember why i didn’t want him to see. why i was so upset. but i was just was and i started screaming at him and he…he backhand slapped me so hard i fell to the ground.” he murmurs. 

you wince, thinking of sukuna at seven, with his always grumpy face and basketball jerseys getting crumpled onto the ground. you can feel the tears burning in the back of your eye, but try your best to swallow them down. 

“i went to sleep that night and it was the first time i thought about dying.” 

you can feel the air leave your chest. you curl your hand into a fist, your nails indenting the softness of your skin, as you give him a nod to continue. he looks down at your hands and frowns, before uncurling your hands and locking them in with his own. 

“don’t clench your jaw. and don’t ball your hands like that, just…just squeeze my hands instead. i know it’s a lot.” 

it’s a light demand that he gives you and you all but oblige. 

“i am ready to listen, i just…” you start. 

“i nearly broke my own hands listening to you talk about mazzy. it was hard on my heart to know any of that happened.” 

he cups your cheek in his hand, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“i understand. you’re just so down horrendous for me that it hurts.” he states. 

you glare at him. 

“you’re not even far off by saying that.” you deadpan. 

he smiles. 

“i know.” 

you give him a smile back, nearly shivering from the how bare it felt – the shared understanding that you’re seeming to get now – as he continues. 

“every time it happened, i would think about dying. it was never really concrete, like how i was going to do it or making a plan, but…it would just come back to me. i would think about my own death all the time – how it would feel, how it would make other people feel.” 

he pauses. 

“made me feel guilty sometimes. thinking about it, because i know my mom and yuuji needed me, that it would make you and sammy sad and…and i don’t know. it felt wrong to think about, like…like i was committing a crime.” 

he shrugs. 

“sometimes i’d find something to take my mind off of it. my grades at first, winning all those awards. made me feel good until it was too easy. then…then it was girls. i liked the things they said to me – that i was smart, that i was hot.” 

you snort. he gives you a joking glare, before he continues. 

“but then it would get too far, i would get so disgustingly turned off whenever they tried to tell me they loved me because…because i knew they didn’t. and..” 

he pauses, before his eyes go wide. 

“i love it when you tell me you love me. please don’t ever stop.” 

you smile, before stifling a laugh. 

“i love you.” 

he groans. 

“god, why was that kind of hot?” 

you snort. 

“what?” 

“i don’t know! that was really hot. made my skin fucking…burn or something i don’t know. shut up. i hate you.” 

“i was just doing what you asked.” you clarify. 

“and it turns me on when you’re so obedient. you know that.” 

you shake your head, as he laughs. 

“ew. you’re so gross, sukuna.” 

you both laugh, as you watch sukuna visibly relax. 

you can tell that the jokes, as misplaced as they seem in the conversation, make it easier for him to keep going – that they’re soothing his nerves. 

you can’t lie that it doesn’t do the same for you. it’s overwhelming concern that he isn’t okay, that you need to call someone, but the tiniest shreds of this are small reminders that…that maybe he’s just recounting the memory. that maybe it’s just a considerably smaller part of him now, or that it lives in the past, and just informs who he is now. 

he continues. 

“it got worse. i started bleeding into other things too. i didn’t get basketball captain and that was the first thought that came to mind – that i wanted to die. a girl would stop talking to me because she thought i was a dick and that was the only thing i could think about for days after. it got so bad that…that one time i was at school and i didn’t get my locker combination right the first time. and all i thought about was that i was going to sit in my car, drive home, and forget to make the last turn and just go straight into the light pole.” 

sukuna’s messing with the charms of your necklace, running his hand over the star as he talks. you can tell that…that it’s almost rambling now, that he needs it to keep himself tethered. 

“then those got more vivid. thinking of concrete ways. in my dreams, while i was in class. falling down, falling asleep and never waking up. and whenever i’d fight with my dad, if…if i found out he hit my mom while i was gone, i just…” 

he pauses, before he looks up at you. 

“i only left for europe because i knew i was going to die if i didn’t.” he whispers.

you nod. 

of course that’s why he left. the only time he physically had to put himself over the two of them. because the pain of him being gone entirely, as opposed to a few years, was the calculated choice he had to make. 

you reach forward, placing your hand on the side of his cheek, as he leans into the touch. 

“i’m glad you didn’t. we all need you here. like, indefinitely.” you whisper. 

he smiles. 

“it did get better after that. i liked being there, i…i met a lot of different people when i was studying there. visited random places just to see what it was like out there, maybe that things were different. i got a therapist after my third week and just, just had my own life. learned my own limits. what i like, what i don’t.” 

you smile. 

“heavy on learning what i did like. i will note that i missed you a lot when i was there.” 

you scoff. 

“liar. you’re just trying to romance me.” 

he rolls his eyes. 

“what’s your computer background?” 

you squint your eyes at him. 

“your computer locksreen. what has it been since you got your first computer?” he asks. 

“monet. the waterlillies.”

“do you know where the waterlilies are in real life?” 

you smile. 

“let me guess. in europe?” 

he smiles back, before lifting your hands to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“france. musée de l’orangerie. oval rooms, they were put up after monet died.” 

it makes your heart flutter – the way the french falls out of his mouth perfectly. 

“museum of orange?” 

“haha. hilarious.” he responds. 

you grin in response. 

“but really. i heard they were in france. i thought of you and then i had to go see them. i found the exact one – the purple and blue that i had seen on your computer – and all i could think about for the entire week was how you were. how you were a soft spot, how my memories with yuuji were too, and at that basketball park near our house” 

you can feel your chest burning – just from how much you love him. 

“you’ll have to go again. to the waterlillies. but with me this time, okay?” you ask. 

he’s smiling from ear to ear. 

“that’s a promise.” he whispers. 

you lean forward, closing the space between you two. it’s a long kiss – only because every time you try to pull away, he’s just leaning forward so it doesn’t stop. 

“i love you.” he states. 

“me too. more than you know.” you affirm. 

“thanks…thanks for getting it. you…you really are fucking made for me because i don’t get how anyone else would take that.” 

you tilt your head to the side. 

“i don’t get how you think anyone wouldn’t. that’s…that’s normal to think about. to have it come up.” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“i don’t know. i was just sitting there in bed thinking about it because…because i was planning all that stuff. like calling sammy and the breakfast. and really, if something like this happened years ago when i was here, i’d be thinking of how i wanted to die. and i was just…thinking about what i wanted to do instead. almost like i was looking forward to the next morning, to…to making you feel good and having a good day for us.” 

you smile. 

“i’ve felt that way a lot since i came back. i got nanami a really good birthday gift and i couldn’t wait to give it to him. or when some dumb pop culture thing happens and i see it in the news..it makes satoru so happy when i ask him to explain it that sometimes i find myself looking forward to it. just…reasons to wake up in the morning i guess?” 

“i’m going to tell satoru.” you state. 

“no, you’re not. i’m never talking to you again.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“i don’t know. i figured you’d want me to just think about you after yesterday. a lot of people do and…and most of the time it is just about you, i swear. but i think that…” he starts.

you shake your head. 

“i don’t want you to just think about me. like…if you’re having a sex dream and someone else comes up, i will hate you forever. but it shouldn’t just be me. i want you to have your own life, i want me to have my own, and that we’re just parts of it for each other. and to me…what you told me just sounds like you were making sense of where i fit in with the rest of your life. i would never ever hate that. that’s where i want to be, in there with everything else.” 

sukuna sighs, before leaning his forehead against yours. it’s a long pause before he talks again, but the silence is filled by warm kisses to the side of your face that make your skin singe. 

“did you know that you’re the love of my life?” he whispers. 

you roll your eyes. 

“i said it first.” 

he places his hands around your cheeks, before gently angling your face up so that you’re looking at him. 

“you’re the love of my life. that’s really where you fit in.” sukuna states. 

you can’t help but smile, biting down on the sides of your cheek from the sweetness. 

“you were the first girl i ever liked. the only one i thought about when i was gone. the only one i could ever tell this to. and now i can’t be anywhere except if it’s with you. you’re the love of my life.” 

you smile, before you shake your head. 

“you’re the first guy i ever liked. the only person i ever thought about until you left. you’re the only person i can give myself to. and i…i’m tied to you – you…you can’t get away even if you tried. you’re the love of my life too.” 

he smiles back. 

“i’m not trying.” 

“okay, well it’s a threat. you can’t try.” you joke. 

“i’m not going to.” he whispers, full of sincerity. 

he locks his hand in with yours, before pulling you back towards the bedroom, where you tangle your limbs again until it’s impossible to be closer.

“just one thing before you sleep.” sukuna states. 

“what?” 

“we’re having separate cups of hot chocolate in the morning. you drank the entire fucking cup.”

--

next part linked here

an: PHEW my heart hurts. my favorite chapter me thinks. the fluff is DISGUSTING!!! TOOTH ROTTING! anyways. lets all thank miss taylor alison swift for writing who's afraid of little old me? because that's what made me think of this chapter and how I wanted to come out. like the "I was tame I was gentle until the circus life made me mean" 😭

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @gyros-cum-sock @wishmemel @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani78 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[lovecoree]

SATIVA. L. HEESEUNG !

pairing: idol!heesung x blackfem!reader

synopsis: a trip to a beach villa leads you and Heeseung to express y’all true feelings for each other.

warning: smut! mdni , smut tags under cut! , enemies to lovers trope , arguing , drinking , fluff , angst , reader is kinda mean ( but so is heesung ) , Heeseung is down bad for reader , reader is black coded , reader uses she/her prns !

smut tags: unprotected sex ( don’t do this ) , oral ( f receiving ) , heesung gets caught masturbating , heesung has a breeding kink ( sorry not sorry ) , degrading , pet names ( princess & baby ) , pussydrunk!heesung , kissing , marking , after care !

requested by: @penny44224

a/n: omg this only took long because my phone has been acting up lately, i finally got it fix yesterday so i was able to finish the rest of it today and yesterday. This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever done so i hope it’s ok. I barely proof read this 😭 so any misspelling or mistakes, im truly sorry !!! 🩷

You found it frustrating that you had a crush on Heeseung.

Normally when a person have a crush they feel shy or nervous around the person they like or just flirt to see if they could become more than just a crush, that was the opposite for you. Why have a crush on him if you’re clearly annoyed about it.

It’s fairly simple, you simply think you’re not good enough to date someone like Heeseung due to the fact that he is an idol and have little experience with love or dating in general. The longest relationship you had lasted two months, would’ve been three if the guy you dated wasn’t such an ass.

You tend to overthink things, Heeseung is a very attractive person with a good personality, he would never see you in a different light. You told this to yourself every day and every night, leaving you to feel bitter and so that bitter behavior passed on to you being kinda mean towards Heesung. Especially during the whole trip at the beach villa.

And poor Heeseung couldn’t understand why, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to give the same energy back.

Heeseung couldn’t help but make subtle glances your way, watching as you interact with your two best friends Jurin and Harvey or playing fun games with his band mates. God you look beautiful, the outfit you wore all day from going out made Heesung loose his focus. He simply wanted to be close to you, but the way you’ve been trying to avoid him like the plague bothered him.

“We’re heading out later to eat, you coming right?” Sunghoon walked up to Heeseung aware to the fact that his friend was focusing on you and how you laughed and smiled so beautifully, but not at him tho? All he get is an irritated face from you and mean comments. “Ridiculous,” Heesung said shaking his head, “huh?” Sunghoon looked at Heesung confused causing Heesung to blink a few times as he finally looked at Sunghoon.

“Huh? Sorry you said something?” Heesung scratched the back of his neck watching as Sunghoon looked at him weird. “I asked are you joining us to go out to eat later tonight.” Heesung was quick to shrug his shoulders, he honestly didn’t feel like going out because you’ve been stressing this man out this whole trip and needed alone time with his thoughts. “I might or might not, don’t wait up if I’m not out my room when yall are ready.” Sunghoon nodded his head, keeping that in mind.

“Oh by the way, stop staring…you look like a creep.” Sunghoon joked watching as Heesung eyes went wide causing Sunghoon to laugh before walking over to the rest.

It was currently 9:20 at night and your friends were getting ready to go out. After taking a shower and doing your skin care routine, instead of dressing up to go out you put on a regular tank top and shorts to sleep in. You told Jurin and Harvey you were staying in tonight, not feeling like going out and just be alone since you had a lot on your mind. Relaxing while watching tv sounds good right about now.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Jurin asked putting on lipgloss before checking her makeup for any flaws, Harvey was doing the same. “Yea, I’m too tired to go anywhere to be honest.” You plopped on the bed, searching for your phone amongst the covers to scroll on Instagram.

You could hear Harvey sigh as she glanced your way. “Is it because of Heesung?” One thing about Harvey she could read you like an open book, she knew you like Heesung since day one. You rolled your eyes finally finding your phone under the covers. “No I’m not staying back because of him.” You partially lied. Yes you were staying back because of him, but you also wanted to relax and distract yourself by watching your favorite movie.

Harvey squinted her eyes, not really believing you, but she let the topic died down at she looked over her outfit before standing up with Jurin. “I’ll send a picture of the menu so I could order you something and bring it back here when we come back.” Jurin smiled coming of to give you a hug. You smiled, excepting her hug. “Thank you, you’re the best.” You glanced over at Harvey who had a pout on her face, “I love you too Harvey.” You laugh as she immediately smiled coming over to give you a hug.

“Ok we’re gone, don’t forget to text me.” Jurin shouted making her way downstairs along with Harvey trailing behind her.

Halfway through the movie you felt hungry, pausing your movie you got out of bed and put on your slippers before leaving the room, on the way down the hall you couldn’t help but hear rustling and faint noises coming from on of the rooms, which so happened to be Heesungs and Jake’s assigned room. You were confused because you thought everyone had left already, the door was slightly cracked open. You slowly peeked inside and was immediately shocked to see Heesung body was resting against the headboard of the bed as he masturbated.

You were about to gasp but you quickly covered your mouth, not letting a sound pass your lips. You blinked a couple of times, maybe your seeing things, but then again the way he was moaning while stroking himself sounded too real. It was like your body couldn’t move from your spot as you watched Heesung eyes go shut while resting his head back on the headboard, his long hands wrapped perfectly around his cock as he moaned, clearly unaware of your presence.

You felt like a pervert, but you slowly backed up to give him privacy and try to forget what you just witnessed. Before you could even fully turn your body around you heard Heesung deep voice moan once again. “Fuck y/n.” Your whole body freezes, did…did he just say your name. You couldn’t sworn you had whip lash as you look back to see Heesung moving his hand up and down even faster, feeling close to his release.

Heesung mouth went slack as he finally opened his eyes, looking down at his cock as he came, he quickly moved his shirt up reve his chiseled abs so it wouldn’t ruin his shirt. “Fuck.” Heesung hissed, calming down his breathing.

You almost stumbled back as Heesung finally acknowledged your presence, his eyes went wide before quickly tucking himself inside his sweatpants. Before you could even think about running back to your room, you felt him pull you into his room by your arm. “Let go” You yanked your arm back as Heesung got in your personal space, eyes glaring at you as his voice was laced with venom.

“The fuck is your problem!?” Your faced scrunched up as you pushed him back off of you to form some kind of space. “You ever heard of privacy?” You had no words to say, Heesung scoffed form your lack of response. “Explain your—

“I admit I was watching you, but why were you moaning my name.” You don’t let him finish his sentence, crossing your arms over your chest. Heesung was amazed on how you flipped the script on him.

Heesung ran his fingers through his hair before laughing. “Is something funny?” You looked at him irritated, Heesung shook his head feeling frustrated. What is he supposed to say, I was moaning your name while jerking off because I can’t stop thinking about you and like you. You would’ve looked at him crazy, he thought.

“I’m waiting..” Heesung swallowed the lump in his throat before replying simply with, “it was random, first name that popped up.” Heesung shrugged causing you to smack your teeth. “Stop lying.”

“Fuck, I don’t know what else to say!”

“The truth—”

“I like you! That’s the truth, I fucking like you!”

You felt your heartbeat increasing at his words. He watched you go silent and it was nerve wrecking for him. “Sorry forget I said—” “Since when did you start liking me?” You cut him off quickly feeling your mind racing with so many questions. “Since we first met at my concert backstage.” Heesung couldn’t even look you in the eyes anymore, he felt embarrassed that he shouted those words that could cause him rejection.

You couldn’t help but crack a smile, trying your best to muffle your laugh. Heesung took offense to that, “I’m glad you find my feelings for you funny.” He sarcastically said, ready for you to leave his room.

“I like you too, I’m just relieved that’s all.” You finally said watching Heesung face go from hurt to surprise. Heesung stepped closer towards you feeling confused. “Wait..you like me back? So why have you been an ass lately towards me.” You looked him in the eyes feeling nervous all of a sudden.

“Like I said it’s because I like you..” Heesung wasn’t quick to catch on and you can tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed waiting for you to continue. “…I thought I wouldn’t be your type, you’re an idol who could have any girl you want…and I’m just an ordinary girl with little dating experience.” You felt your voice suddenly grow small as tried to fight tears that welled up in your eyes.

“That’s why I was being mean to you..to try to get over my feelings for you.” Heesung felt his heart ache seeing the single tear that finally left your eye and grace your soft face. He moved closer to wipe it before lifting your head up to look at him.

“Stop crying, you’re too pretty to cry.” He softly said. “And stop thinking like that, the only person I want is you y/n. You don’t understand how much I like you, I could care less about any other girl in this world.” He smiled watching you try to look anywhere else but him, you weren’t use to receiving compliments especially from a guy you liked.

“You’re just saying that to be nice.” You tried to pull yourself together, but Heesung was quick to pull you right back to him. His arms wrapped around your waist as he practically stared into your soul. “I mean it seriously….in fact, I could prove it to you.”

You didn’t miss how his voice turned seductive as he smirked at you. You felt your stomach doing flips and body grow hot. “Prove it to me how?” He glanced down at your lips before looking back up at your brown eyes. “May I?” He whispered, feeling his face come closer towards yours, nodding your head yes like you were in a trance.

Crashing his lips on yours, you whimpered at the feeling. His lips felt soft as he cup your face to deepen the kiss. You place your hands in his hair, keeping up with his movements. A moan slipped past your lips causing Heesung to grin a little while kissing you. Coming back for air, Heesung was the first to break the kiss, smiling from seeing you try to chase his lips to kiss him more.

“Does that help you or do I need to prove myself even more?” Raising an eyebrow waiting for a response, whatever answer you give him he would kindly respect it. “I need you, please.” Heesung felt like he was in a fever dream, the way you begged just now had blood rushing straight to his cock.

“You don’t understand how sexy you sounded just now.” Heesung was quick to pick you up and carrying you to his bed, gently placing you it. You looked up at him with doe like eyes waiting for his next move. He gripped your ankle to pull you closer by the edge of the bed. “We can stop this now if you want?” He reassured you only for you to shake your head. “I want this, please.”

Heesung smiled before leaning down to kiss you again, but this time more rough. His hands moved down to your shorts and tapped your hip, signaling you to lift up a little. You lift up your body letting him pull down your shorts along with your soaked panties. He slowly slid his hand between your legs, “Fuck.” Your body jolted slightly from him using his fingers to rub your clit in circles slowly. Wasting no time, he got on his knees, prying your legs open for more room.

You felt your body melt in his touch. “You’re so wet.” He said already mesmerized, but it only made you feel shy, before you could even think about closing your legs he was quick to press a kiss on your clit before sucking on it harshly causing your jaw to go slack and eyes glancing down at him in surprise.

Heesung hummed, satisfied with the taste of you as he used his two fingers to spread your lips open. He released your clit with a loud pop sound before glancing at your exposed hole, more of your essence leaking causing Heesung to loose his mind. “Only I make you feel like this, huh?” Heesung glanced up at you seeing you trying to slow down your breathing.

“Answer me Princess.” He softly said, but stern. “Yes, only you Hee.” The cute pet name made Heesung smile before diving back in lapping at your pussy like a starved man who hasn’t eaten in days. Your moans filled the room as you rest your elbows behind you on the bed so you can sit up properly. His noses brushed your clit perfectly while he suck and lick on your folds. The pleasure was so intense he had to use both of his hands to keep your legs from closing, eyes shooting up to look at you to give you a warning.

You did your best to hold your legs open for him, feeling your mind go blank. “F-Feels so good.” You begged feeling your legs shake. Heesung licked up every drop you gave him, he hummed against your clit before backing away slightly. You whined at the sudden loss of his mouth. He only smirked before standing up and bending back down towards you to kiss you deeply. You moaned at the feeling of tasting yourself.

Heesung brung two fingers to your pussy, pushing them inside your hole before curling his fingers, going in and out in a fast pace. You broke away from the kiss moaning loudly, glancing up at him as your mouth went slack. All he did was watch you with lust filled eyes. “It’s too..fuck, it’s too much.” All Heesung did was nod his head not stopping until you cum on his fingers. “I know baby, and you can take it, hmm?” You felt your body shudder at his words.

Heesung placed his free hand beside you on the bed to keep his balance steady so he can lean down and kiss up on your neck, moving your head back to give him more room while you close your eyes. You felt close to your release as your legs threatened to close.

“Hee.” You cling tightly onto his shirt can’t find your voice, only blissful moans leaving your lips. “I know baby, cum for me.” Using the pad of his thumb to rub your clit and just like that you felt the knot in your stomach finally break.

The rest of your clothes were quick to be on the floor, Heesung climb on top of you as he placed soft kisses on your brown skin. The feeling of his body heat and him being this close felt like a dream. You tangled your hands in his hair, kissing him with so much love.

“You don’t understand how long I’ve waited for this.” Heesung confessed breaking away from the kiss, he leaned back as he took his cock in his hand pumping it a few times. You watched him intensely, loving the sight. “Hee please just fuck me already.” You felt embarrassed on how needy you were getting, and who can blame you it’s Heesung we’re talking about here. “Such a needy slut aren’t you.” Tapping his cock against your clit teasingly, “m’not sure you deserve it, the way you’ve been acting.” He grin hearing you whine.

“You wait until I’m needy to tease me.” You felt on the verge of tears, it was ridiculous. “Beg and I’ll give you the best fuck of your life.” Heesung said seriously always ready to fulfill his promises. And you believed him.

“Please Hee I need you to fuck me, I’m so sorry for the way I’ve acted— fuck, just please fuck me.” Quick to beg not caring how pathetic you sounded, you just needed him to fuck you and so he did. He smiled from ear to ear as he finally entered inside of you. Your jaw went slack as you felt every inch of him enter inside of you. “Breathe baby, Breathe.”

You didn’t even realize you was holding your breath until he said something, you felt him hit your sweet spot immediately once he finally pushed in all the way. “F-Fuck your so tight.” He needed to take his own advice because he was close to breaking his slow pace.

“Please Hee g-go faster.” You whined when you felt him grip your love handles before slipping out only leaving his tip inside you, “shouldn’t have said that baby.” Before you could even ask what he meant he, he slid inside you again in one quick motion, grip never faltering on your hips. “Fuck Heesung!”

Heesung watched as your mouth went slack and eyes rolled back, you let out the most prettiest moans he ever heard. He thought he was dreaming, but no it’s all real, you’re real. “You feel so good— shit, wrapped around me.” Heesung moaned feeling himself loose himself inside you.

His hips pounded into you even faster creating loud clapping noises in the room. He leaned down leaving kisses along your neck, leaving hickeys on your skin. You could hear him moaning against your neck causing you to grow weak, if he was in love with your moans you were surely obsessed with his.

Heesung couldn’t help it, you felt good wrapped perfectly around him. “Hee, s’too m-much.” You moved your hand down his abs, trying to slow down his movements causing him to move away from your neck to look at you with serious eyes. “Move your hand or on everything I love, I’ll stop.” The way you quickly moved your hand was hilarious, but you earned a kiss against your lips as a reward before he continue feeding you deep strokes.

He glanced down at the sight of his cock pumping inside of you, a thick layer of yours and his cum creating a ring at the base of his cock. Heesung has went slack at the sight, he couldn’t help but moan. “Fuuck you’re amazing baby.” He bit his lip feeling like he was on cloud nine.

“Perfectly made for me…only me.” He said watching as your back arched off the bed from intense pleasure, missionary is definitely Heesung’s favorite because you look so beautiful underneath him. “Hee, I’m so close.” You felt the same knot from before building up in your stomach.

“Me too.” Heesung voice came out small, mostly in a whine, he didn’t want this to end. “Fuck baby, need to cum inside you, please.” You found it so attractive how he was begging, “please, I’ll fill you up so nice and good baby.” Heesung pounded faster inside of you feeling himself tipping over the edge of his release.

How can you deny him when he looks like this and beg like that. His hair sticking to his forehead from the thin layer of sweat, eyes dazed by lust and tears, mouth going slack as he moaned, abs tightened from being close to cumming. He was perfect.

You were quick to shake your head, “please cum inside me, n-need all of you.” Heesung eyes rolled to the back of his head before he focused back on you, happy about your words. He moved his thumb to your clit, working expertly on your clit causing you to jolt a little from the attention on it.

“M’gonna give you every last drop, put a fucking baby inside you.” Heesung couldn’t help his words, too far gone and let his intrusive thoughts out. “You would like that huh? Just me and you knowing I filled you up perfectly with my cum.”

Your legs started to shake, his words and him fucking you was getting to your head. “Shit, I’m close.” You looked up at him with tearing eyes, nodding your head to agree, feeling the knot in your stomach ready to explode and he could tell.

He leaned down giving you a gentle kiss on the lips, “cum for me baby.” That’s all it took for you to cum around his cock, “Fuck!” Heesung gripped your hips helping you calm down from your orgasm. He felt his hips start to falter and abs tighten. You pulled him in by his neck kissing him, your soft lips on his was what tipped him over.

You felt him cum deep inside you causing you to moan inside the kiss. Heesung couldn’t help but whine form empty every drop inside of you, hips flushed against you as you held each other, feeling clingy.

You were the first to break away from the kiss only to see Heesung open his eyes slowly. You giggled before pecking his lips one last time. “That was— wow.” He Finally spoke up, smiling from ear to ear.

“I agree.” Heesung moved away from you completely, pulling out of you slowly. He hissed at the sight of his cum leaving your pussy and on to the bed. Heesung got up off the bed going to the bathroom to grab a warm towel to help clean you up.

You both sat in a comfortable silence as he helped you. “What does this makes us?” You whispered, breaking the silence. Heesung glanced up at you. “In a relationship, if that’s ok with you.” Heesung felt nervous again, but your smile made his heart flutter. “I like that idea.” Heesung smiled back, finished cleaning up he helped you up off the bed taking you to the bathroom to take a shower together.

“Yo! Love birds time to wake up.” You could hear Jake knocking hard on the door, not wanting to walk in on anything. Heesung stirred in his sleep after feeling you lightly shake him so he could wake up. “Y’all better be out hear in five minutes or breakfast will be gone.” Jake left after that to go downstairs.

You glanced at Heesung to see him rubbing his eyes before stretching. He looked at you and gave you his cute signature smile, “good morning princess.” His sleepy voice made you feel butterflies. “Good morning.” You smiled back moving strands of his hair out his eyes.

“We need to get dress before Jake comes back up here and drag us out.” You laughed before climbing out of bed, Heesung whined not wanting to get up, but did so anyway.

Heesung came over to you giving you a kiss on the lips. “Can’t we just stay here.” He said pouting. “I would love to but after breakfast we got to pack and leave.” You said sadly, coming back to reality that both of you will be parting ways.

“Don’t say that, it’s hurting my heart already.” Heesung ran his fingers through his hair before walking towards his opened suitcase. “I know I know, but it’s the truth.” You sighed getting ready to walk out. “I’m going to go change.” Heesung hummed in response already finding a outfit to wear.

You did your whole morning routine before settling on a nice yet comfortable outfit to wear since you’re going to the airport after breakfast. You packed the rest of your clothes and items inside your suitcase and took it downstairs with you to place it by the doors where the rest of your friends suitcases lined up.

Walking into the kitchen you felt eyes starring at you. You realized after grabbing a plate that was next to the food. Slowly glancing up, your friends smiling at you or looking at you with the ‘anything you want to tell us’ look.

“What?”

Sunoo couldn’t help but laugh at your confused expression. Jurin and Harvey staring at you with shock written all over their faces. “I was curious on why you didn’t text me back last night, but after what Jake told us now I know why.” Jurin said coming closer to you.

“You were getting dick down.”

“Yah!”

“I’m trying to eat here.”

The guys all looked up from their plates in disgust by Jurin words only for her to wave her hand at them, dismissing their protest. “I thought y’all hated each other.” Jungwon said taking a sip of his water.

“Clearly not, they had the time of their lives last night.” Jay said shaking his head only for Sunoo to nudge his side before telling him to be quiet.

“I had to sleep on the floor in Ni-ki and Sunghoon.” Jake complained, “you could’ve slept on the couch.” Harvey said looking at Jake like he was slow.

Before jake could respond back, footsteps was heard coming into the kitchen. “Uh oh speaking of the devil himself.” Sunghoon said causing Ni-Ki to hold in his laugh. Heesung was dressed comfortably in a grey hoodie and grey sweatpants and wearing his black prescription glasses.

Heesung looked at everyone confused on why they was smiling at him, but he ignored them going straight to you, placing a kiss on your cheek before grabbing a plate as well going to the food. “Y’all knew this would eventually happen, let’s not act brand new.” Heesung said, placing bacon on his plate.

You tried your best not to smile, but you couldn’t help it. “We did, but I wasn’t expecting to come back and seeing y’all half nak—” Jungwon went over to Jake, stuffing his mouth with a piece of waffle to shut him up. “Just say you’re happy for them and eat your food.”

You giggled at Jake’s sour face before grabbing some food for yourself.

“All I got to say is, hurt my best friend I will fly to Korea and beat your ass.” Harvey said pointing her fork at Heesung. You looked at Jurin, signaling with your eyes to get Harvey. Jurin only shrugged her shoulder.

“I was going to say the same thing, she just said it in a nicer way.”

“Omg.”

[yoongihan]

Happenstance - SCB - OneShot

pairing: 3rachaChangbin x femcharacter

genre: travel au, fluff, smut, little angst, strangers to lovers,

romantic trope: love at first sight (inspiration from this reel)

word count: ~18k

rating: M

warnings: mc invites strangers to dinner amongst other things (DO NOT RECOMMEND), kissing, penetrative sex, ridiculous amount of haggis discussion, food and drink, some language, changbin with fluffy hair, dressed in hoodies. honestly, i don't think there's too much concerning in this one, apologies if I've missed something.

a/n: fic #4 in skz as romantic tropes collab with @jl-micasea-fics. in case you read my answers to asks, this is the first story i started that i didn't finish until yesterday (I apologize for every single mistake that i probably missed). which means, this took me over seven months. i have no idea why something as 'simple' as love at first sight required me to write nearly 18000 words!! anyway, um, hope you like it.

--------

You don’t really mind being alone. It’s a lot easier to just pack up your stuff, yourself and go on your adventures when you don’t have to consider another person and their preferences.

It gets lonely, but it works for you.

At the train station with your backpack and one rolling suitcase, waiting for your train in London at Kings Cross station that will take you to Edinburgh. It’s a long journey, over eleven hours, but you saved up and for the very first time, got yourself a sleeper cabin. There weren’t any singles available, as the classic cabin comes with twin bunk beds, but you figure the extra space can’t hurt. 

Who’d go with you anyway?

You bounce on the balls of your feet, waiting for the train. This experience is less about the scenery as it’s mostly at night, but the getting to sleep in a bed (the sleeper seats aren’t horrible, but they aren’t exactly great if you really want a good night’s rest) on a train is something you haven’t gotten to do yet. 

You like Scotland and you haven’t been since you started this work. Inverness sits at the top of Loch Ness, and there are so many picturesque places to visit once you’re there. Then you’ll take the train back, but during the day, so you get to see what you couldn’t on the overnight train. 

You have one earbud in, listening to a soft playlist you made mostly full of Sufjan Stevens, Fleet Foxes, and Band of Horses. Only one earbud as you need to make sure you hear any important announcements and you also really enjoy eavesdropping, especially when everyone has a much more interesting accent than you. You’re glancing back at the announcement board as though something might have changed in the last minute (it would just be the worst luck if it got canceled…what would you do in London…go to a museum or something?). 

The train is arriving and you just want to dance around like a fool. No one should be this excited to sleep on a train, but you are. As you queue behind a few others, you glance down the track, taking in the people who will presumably be sleeping near you. It seems like a diverse group, some people dressed nicer than you, as though they are having a work meeting on the train (with computer and phone cameras…maybe they are), some look like they might already have on their pyjamas. There are heads of grey and white, long plaits of blonde and red, fluffy short black hair. 

All types. 

You board and glance at the signage, looking for the arrows to connect you to cabin 25. Slipping past a family of three who are speaking in what sounds like German to your unknowledgeable ear, you glance at the descending numbers. 

There’s a small scanner on the door (how far tech has come), and you scan your phone over it, the QR code for your ticket allowing you access. As you open the door, you look down at the male voices coming from the other end of the carriage. 

There are three of them. 

In your travels, you see a lot of people, but unless it’s a commuter-type train during work or drinking hours, you don’t run into men of a certain age, and certainly not on an overnighter covering the length of England. 

Certain age being mostly like twenties, mid-twenties if you had to guess. And though you’ve definitely seen a good-looking man a time or two, it’s rare to see them en masse like this. One is carrying two duffle bags, his hair a wavy platinum blonde. He is attempting to pull out his phone and scan like you just had. The second one is whining about the first one taking too long. It’s not really complaining, because he wears a smile in between the pouts. In fact, when he glances over the third’s head, he sees you and smiles brilliantly. 

You smile back, embarrassed at being caught staring, but if you blushed every time you did something socially forward, you would be a permanent tomato. 

The door finally opens for them and that’s when the third one turns around, presumably because he noticed the second one looking at you. He’s the shortest, and even before he turns, you notice that he’s very broad from the back, despite the guitar case blocking your view. 

When his eyes meet yours, your brain definitely tucks away the recognition that he’s wearing black-framed glasses, eyes a warm brown, black hair curly and fluffy, completely dressed in a black t-shirt, black joggers, and black sneakers (a motif one might say). You see all of that, but it doesn’t really connect.

Because something happens. 

No lightning from the sky, or voice, or whatever occurs when something big changes. You’re just oddly aware that your heart is beating at a rate that only occurs when you're winded, that your anticipation has gotten more like anxiety, and you would very much like to ask his name. 

So you disappear into your cabin, not sure of anything anymore. 

“It said four.”

“Well, there’s two, Chan.”

“But it said four.”

You sit on the bottom bunk, watching the fading sunlight out the window, your heart rate seeming to slow down. The fact that you can hear your neighbors’ conversation doesn’t bode well for your sleeping tonight. 

But you always pack earplugs. 

“Must be a mix-up. Find a…what do they call them?”

“Station agent?”

“Porter?”

“Train guy?”

You cover your mouth so you don’t laugh too loudly at the final suggestion. You stand up and start to unpack your few things; pajamas, toiletries, two books, and journal. You can hear one of them opening the door and calling down the corridor. 

“Yes sir.” It’s a few minutes (you’ve actually journaled a whole page by this point) when there’s footsteps and a response. 

“I booked for three people, for one of the cabins with two sets of bunk beds.”

“Ah yes…” There’s a clearing of one throat. “We only have a small amount of those, and unfortunately the original train set for this journey had to be changed at last minute. Mechanical issues. You were refunded.”

“That’s not very helpful as I still have only two beds and three people.”

Another clearing of the throat. 

“Yes, well, the train is fully booked. I can supply another set of sheets and pillows.”

“You’re saying our only option is one of us to sleep on the floor?”

“I am very sorry, sir.”

There’s a couple of very very deep sighs. 

“Thank you anyway.”

The ‘train guy’ must leave because you hear furtive discussion; with foreign words you aren’t sure about, but it seems like ‘rock, paper, scissors’ has the same rhythm no matter the language.  

You are on the top bunk, eyes moving from your book to your door. 

It’s dumb, even for you, but you feel like you have to. You have decent intuition about people, at least on a level if they are dangerous or not. And none of your neighbors set off your warning bells or mental red flags. 

So you jump down and open your cabin door, leaving it open in case you need to run back in and like, hide due to extreme embarrassment. 

One deep breath and you knock on their door.

It opens and the blonde stands there, you can see the other two behind him. 

“Hey neighbor,” the blonde greets you with a weary smile, but a smile nonetheless. It makes you grin more easily.

“Hi,” you introduce yourself. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but I heard…” You wave with your hand at the beds in their room. “I have an extra bed.”

All three of them sort of freeze at your words. You don’t blame them. You are an unaccompanied female on a trip, talking to three men you don’t know. Offering a place to sleep to a stranger. 

“You…aren’t serious?” The one who had been whining earlier spoke up first. 

“I think she is,” the third one…the one you actually can’t look at closely right now (though his voice is enough to set your heart rate back up to jumpy). 

“I am.” You shrug. “I know it’s weird. I don’t know you guys. But there’s dinner in the dining car in like an hour. We could have dinner? Chat? Make sure none of us is a serial killer?” 

Are you asking three men out? 

“One of you needs a bed. I have one. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” says the blonde. “But…” He looks at his friends (you assume, maybe they’re all together which makes your proposal of dinner even more awkward), “We do need a bed.” He looks back at you. “I’m Chan. We’ll have dinner, and no hard feelings if you decide to take it back.”

His smile is warm and you would swear in a court of law that this man is one of the safest humans on the planet. 

“Deal.”

“Jisung,” He points to the one that had smiled at you so brilliantly. He grins again, but it’s shy. 

“Changbin.”

Oh. 

So you meet his eyes again for a second time, hoping you’re prepared. 

It’s still there, maybe less surprising because you are expecting it. You know his name now. You know that he still hasn’t smiled at you (which feels tragic somehow), but doesn’t look angry or disgusted by you (a triumph to be sure).

He seems perplexed, which you can’t blame him for. Your offer is certainly perplexing.

“Nice to meet you,” you stutter a little, but deliver your name without too much embarrassment. “So, I’ll see you in an hour?”

There are verbal affirmations and some nodding and you hurry back, wondering if you can even focus on anything other than the fact that you might be sleeping with in the same cabin with one of them later. 

–

You question yourself as you walk to the dining car (you did your makeup and now you think you’re a little silly), wondering if they’ll even show. Like how damn strange are you to offer a bed to three men you do not know? They probably don’t even want to be near you now.

There’s a host at the front of the carriage and you give him your cabin number. 

“I’m waiting on someone…s.” And your ability to speak has been hijacked by your nerves. You’ve spent the last hour in your cabin, earbuds in so you don’t eavesdrop on anything you might hear from next door (not that they only speak in English, but still. It feels invasive). Your mind has tumbled over itself trying to understand what you had done, had said, and the eeriness of how the third man affects you.

Changbin. 

He isn’t your type, as pointless as you think having a type even is. You’ve never found impressive muscles all that impressive.

But...

“Someones? How many?” The host asks you and you feel weirdly interrogated by him, like maybe he doesn’t believe anyone would be sitting with you. That you’d lie about something like that. For what? A table to yourself?

“Um, I think, three.” Confidence would probably be a handy thing right now. 

“Three?”

You open your mouth to reiterate the number of guests when you feel a presence behind you. And you know, even though this is the closest he’s ever been that it’s him. 

“Three,” he states, voice scratchy. You feel his gaze on you. “The other two are coming.”

You swallow and look over. 

But…he is really attractive. 

He’s wearing trousers and a button-down. The dining car does encourage more formal dress and you’ve even slipped on a skirt and nice top for it. His hair is still fluffy and he still wears the glasses, which makes him look way more scholarly than he had just an hour ago. 

“Hi.”

He hasn’t given you much to go on if he feels the same strangeness when you meet eyes or even if he is aware of you beyond that you exist. But there’s a lift at the corner of his lips, a hint of a smirk or smile and it’s devastating. 

“Hey,” he replies, still with that half-grin. “You look nice.”

Oh god, he complimented you?!

“Um, thanks.” You try and pretend that your brain can engage quicker than it is currently. “You do too.” You gesture vaguely. “I like the glasses.”

You do not know this man and yet when the half-grin grows into a full grin, maybe a touch bashful, it feels very familiar and comforting. Like you’ve never seen him smile before and it’s beautiful, but also, that’s exactly how you feel he should smile.

What the fuck is going on right now?

“Jisung can’t tie a tie to save his life, so Chan’s doing it for him,” he explains before looking at the host. “Can we sit or do we have to wait until they get here?”

“We prefer the parties to be all present when–”

“Sure thing.” Changbin makes eye contact with you again and you know that he’s amused at the level of formality the host is emanating. “We’ll be here.” He gestures for you to move over to the side so the next people waiting can move up. He follows and leans against the carriage wall next to you. 

He’s not uncomfortably close by any means, but there’s not ample amounts of space in trains, so he’s close.

He smells good.

“So, what brings you and um, your friends to Scotland?” you begin, willing confidence into your voice and posture. He’s watching the entrance to the dining car but glances at you, the mirthful turn of his lips coming back. 

“Ah, well, inspiration.”

You straighten up. You don’t know what you expected, but that wasn’t it. 

“Really? For what?”

He regards you for another second or two, like he’s seeing if you’re really interested, or if you can be trusted. 

“What’s your guess?”

Way to put you on the spot.

“Damn, that’s unfair.”

He chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest (ARMS). “Yeah, how so?”

“Anything I say will be based on stereotypes. Like I met you an hour ago.”

“Still invited one of us to bed.”

His voice drops with those words and you wonder if he can see the shiver that goes through you (you try and not visibly react, but holy fuck). 

“Yes, well, no red flags.”

His eyebrows raise. “Really?”

You shrug. “Yeah. Unless my detection skills for serial killers are rusty.”

The half-grin again. “Hmm. How do you know your skills are even competent?” His eyes widened. “Have you met a serial killer?”

You laugh because he seems to legitimately think you might have. And there’s something really refreshing about the fact that he has no idea what field you’re in. Maybe you have.

“You first.”

He eyes you with concession. “Musicians. You?”

“Musicians? Really?” 

“No…” he points at you. “You have to say what you do.”

“No I don’t.”

That’s when his friends arrive, with you and a man you don’t know staring at each other in a mock-battle of wits.

“Interrupting something?” Chan says, nearly laughing.

“She…” Changbin starts then his shoulders drop. “I don’t even know.” He glares at you with no malice before going back to the host. 

“Hi again,” you greet them both. Also dressed in somewhat formal attire, Chan and Jisung are as handsome as the man you are thrown by. 

“Hi,” Chan replies and behind him Jisung waves in tiny . 

All of you are ushered to your table. You sit next to the carriage window even though it’s nearly too dark to see outside. There’s a moment of awkwardness as the three of them seem to nonverbally communicate as to where to sit. 

Changbin sits next to you. HIs arm brushes yours as he gets situated and it happens again: the heartbeat, the anticipation, but it’s mellower, more familiar. 

A server comes to the table and the next few minutes are spent in ordering food and drink. You all decide to get a bottle of wine to share.

“So, Changbin says your musicians?” you begin before taking a sip of the merlot, swishing it around in your mouth as though that would tell you something. You’ve done a wine tour or five, and you kinda get it, but you don’t really. It’s just wine. 

You can see both Jisung and Chan look at Changbin in surprise. 

“Oh, he did?” Chan asks, something underlying the innocuous remark. Teasing of some kind; as guys often do. “Yeah.”

“I saw a guitar.” They all look at you and you flush a bit. “I mean, when I saw you guys coming down the hall. There was a guitar case.”

“Observant.” You can just tell Changbin is paying attention. If only to figure out what you do.

“A bit.”

“Musicians…” Chan begins. “Is a little misleading. We can all play, but…” He takes a sip of wine. “We don’t play, like, one of us on drums, a bass, and an electric guitar.” 

“So, non-traditional.” You rest your chin in your hand. 

“We rap,” Jisung says, twisting his wine glass by the stem. “Me and Bin mostly, Chan does the beats, mixes.”

“Ohhhh.” You straighten up. “Okay, that’s awesome…so, do you have a gig in Edinburgh?”

“No, just to write,” Chan sighs. “We’ve been a little stuck lately and yeah.” He looks so despondent about it, so you pat his hand before taking another sip of your wine. He smiles at you like the physical comfort is normal.

“We have a deadline for a full album and we’re way behind,” Changbin explains further and you look over at him. 

“You all are represented and everything? That’s amazing.”

He waves it away as the other two verbally dismiss such an accomplishment. “What about you? What do you do?”

You grin at Changbin’s apparent annoyance that you’ve kept it from him for this long. The corner of his lips lifts in an almost smirk.

Fuck, it’s attractive. 

“Um. Content creator.”

There’s a collection of laughs from them.

“So are we,” Changbin says, leaning a bit closer. “Wanna be more specific?” 

You know you don’t have a great poker face, so when he gets that close, you’re sure all three of them can see that you’re affected. Your face heats, and your breath catches just for a split second.

When have you ever been this partial to a stranger before?

“Travel. Writer, vlogger,” you answer with a lift of your shoulders. He leans back and it’s like you can breathe easier. “I’ve never done a sleeper train before, so here I am.”

There’s a moment where they are all quiet, looking at you with various expressions of incredulity.

“You get paid to travel?”

You laugh at Jisung’s question. “Kinda? I mean, I go and make the content before I’m paid, hoping that someone will want it…monetize it, etc.” It’s always an interesting thing, to see what people think when you explain how you make a living. Some think you must be famous (not even close), or full of shit (maybe you are, but not about work), or some place along that spectrum. 

“That’s amazing,” Changbin speaks next, his tone more thoughtful than sarcastic or derogatory. 

“I’m jealous. I’m so freakin jealous,” Jisung pouts and then sips his wine. “Wait, so when you took a picture of the wine bottle and glass with your lipstick stain on it…it was for work.”

You nod. “It’s honestly the only time I wear lipstick. I kind of hate it most of the time.” You add credence to your words by wiping off your lips with a tissue from the tissue pack you always keep in your purse. Then doing the same to the glass. “Lipstick residue never comes off in the dishwasher…I used to wash for the local tavern in my hometown. The worst.” 

They’re all three looking at you again with various expressions. You think the expressions are positive, but you’ve only known them for an hour and most of that hour you were in your cabin, journaling. 

“Do you have a niche?” Chan asks, “Like a specific type of travel or anything?”

You shrug. “I like train travel. This is my first sleeper cabin, so that’ll be of some focus. But I have a few places in Edinburgh to capture as well.”

“And you can live off of this?” Changbin answers. “Why the fuck are we writing music?” 

You laugh with the others at his thunderstruck question. You turn a bit more toward him, watching how his gaze drops to your now-naked lips then back to your eyes. 

“Because you love it. I assume.” You feel your cheeks heat when he smiles at your sentimentality. The waiter returns to receive your orders, and you try not to smile too large that everyone orders something different. You hope they’ll let you photo each meal. 

“Why Scotland for inspiration?”

Both Changbin and Jisung look at Chan who shrugs, a bit sheepish. 

“Always wanted to. We spend most of our time in South Korea or Australia, so this seemed like something different.”

“‘Stairway to Heaven’ was written on Loch Ness, too,” Jisung offers.

“Yeah, in the house of the creepy af Aleister Crowley…” You lean forward and drop your voice. “You’re not going there, are you?”

“No,” Changbin chuckles. “But you know that story?”

“I’m full of useless knowledge,” you answer. 

“How long have you been doing this?” Changbin asks you. “The traveling and vlogging?”

“A while. The living off of it, only a few years.” You shake your head when he opens his mouth. “My turn. Tell me about how you three became rappers, musicians, a crew.”

“Gonna use it in your content?” Chan asks, a touch of amusement, but also more caution. 

You shake your head. “Not without permission. And usually my stuff is less with people and more places, food, drink. I will totally ask if I can take a photo of each of your meals.”

“I guess that’s okay,” Changbin says. “If you get part of my hand, though, I expect compensation.”

And with that joking remark, your eyes immediately focus on his hands. That’s not a feature you usually think much about in your attraction to men. It takes more about personality and smile, and maybe a lanky form. 

But it says everything about this whole strange experience that when you look at his hands, you actually shiver.

God, this is so damn weird.

“Of course,” You answer. “Also…you didn’t answer. How did you three meet?”

Again, both Changbin and Jisung look at Chan.

“You’re in charge, huh?”

Chan blushes, which is adorable. “I mean…kinda, but just cause I started us…”

“What he will never say is that he studied music production and then found us at the same school, basically said ‘fuck school let’s do our own thing’ and we’ve saved money on tuition and made money…though nothing like insane.” Changbin leans back in his chair, his arm falling to the back of mine before his eyes widen and he drops it. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve already invited one of you into my cabin…What are social rules at this point?” You just have no filter today, but the answering laughter from them is comforting. “Since you asked me, what is your niche? Like love songs?”

“Rap love songs?” Jisung asks, mildly disgusted. 

“Love songs is a pretty wide spectrum,” you argue. “From unrequited, to innocent, attraction to just sex, broken hearts, betrayal, cheating. It’s all over the place.” Your question isn’t all that random. Out of the corner of your eye, you’re watching Changbin the moment you mention ‘love’ as though he might say or do something that’ll give you indication that he’s also feeling the same lunacy that you are undergoing.

Nothing. Nothing but just him listening and having a piece of the rustic bread dipped in olive oil the server placed on your table. 

“She has a point. We do write love songs if that’s the umbrella,” Chan says and Jisung pouts again, but while he’s chewing on the bread, his cheeks full, and he looks just like a small woodland creature. “But I wouldn't ever market them as love songs.”

“Doesn’t fit the hip hop crew vibe?”

Changbin snorts. “Not so much.”

“So. What do you write about?” You plop your chin in your hand. “I admit my rap and hip hop knowledge is less than my obscure trivia about Boleskine House.”  

Jisung speaks up, “Just stuff we’re dealing with.” He glances at Chan. “Probably more about growing up and figuring out who you are more than anything.”

“Relatable,” you reply on an exhaled breath. All three of them smile. “Sorry, that was pretty obvious. I guess everyone is still figuring it all out, huh?”

The food arrives a few minutes later and after you get the perfect shots of all the dishes (there are a few with their hands because it’s too aesthetic not to do so) the conversation turns to places to see and visit in Edinburgh and the surrounding areas, things to do, etc. 

“Oh, I’ll definitely try haggis,” you say. 

“Really?” Jisung makes a face. “Isn’t it like…gross?”

“I tend to try most food at least once. I’ve already done blood pudding.” Which means you have to explain it to them. The trio of disgusted faces makes you laugh. “It’s not bad with ketchup.” 

“Bin would probably do the same, though.” Jisung points at him with a beef-laden fork. “He eats anything.”

You turn to Changbin, noting the slight reddening in his cheeks and narrow-eyed glare he gives to Jisung. 

“It’s called being adventurous,” you say in support. “And food is a gift.” You gesture to your plate. “Case in point.”

“A gift?” Chan prompts. 

“I mean, we didn’t have to have taste buds, right? Like we could just have evolved or been created, whatever your origin stance is, without. Food could just be sustenance, something we do without thought, like breathing. But we have all these receptors that give us pleasure.”

“Or disgust,” Jisung says before taking another bite, the cheeks filling out again. 

“Is there pleasure without pain?” 

“Jeez, we got deep,” Chan says, chuckling.

“Could be your next song. The listener will think it’s about life or sex or whatever, but it’s just the three of you debating about food.”

“Life or sex or whatever?” Changbin repeats, turning a little toward you. You make eye contact (maybe you’ve had too much wine), eyebrows up in curiosity. He gestures that you should continue. 

“All literature, and I’d include lyrics in that, boils down to being about love or death. Or simply sex or death.”

Again, it might be the wine, but you swear that when you mention sex his eyes focus more on you. There’s just a slight flicker. 

“And that’s not an original,” you quickly say before going back to your meal. “I learned that in the infinite amount of Lit classes I took in college.” 

“I guess that’s true.” Chan looks thoughtful. “Our songs about identity and growing up is pretty much about doing what you can before death.”

“Speaking of getting deep,” Changbin says. “We should go back to talking about food.” 

“Or pleasure?” Jisung teases. 

Chan cuffs him on the back of the head. He just grins at his friend like being physically chastised is commonplace. 

Probably is. 

It’s brief, the moment of melancholy that hits you when you think of this three-person friendship and how so much of what you do is solitary. 

You blink it away and take another bite of your sea bass, listening to them discuss Edinbrugh castle and the village they have an AirBnb in after two days in the city. 

“Please?” Jisung whines. “We can share the molten chocolate cake?” 

Chan rolls his eyes. “But I don’t want any.”

“I’ll share it with you, Jisung,” you offer. “That or the cheesecake sounds really good.”

“We could do both.”

You giggle at his excited expression. “We could do that.”

“Amazing,” Jisung is thrilled. “You are amazing.” 

“I am often lauded for my sweet tooth.” 

“Only for your sweet tooth?”

The lower tone makes you look at Changbin again. Chan is ‘scolding’ Jisung on the other side of the table about too many sweets and how he’ll be hyper and not sleep, so for the second time this evening, it looks like you and Changbin are speaking alone. 

“Only?” you ask to clarify.

He grins. “I mean, you just used the word ‘lauded’ in regular conversation. I feel like you might get compliments in general.”

“For using big words? Or weird ones? Not really.” 

“Well.” He regards you for a few seconds, eyes not leaving your face. “It’s impressive.”

Your face heats before you can deflect and you drop your gaze because his is overwhelming. 

“Thanks.” 

Dessert is ordered and when received, devoured (even by Chan). When the bill comes, there’s an argument about letting them pay for you, which is won by Jisung saying that since he ‘bullied’ you into getting dessert with him, they should cover it all. You acquiesce only because you convince them to let you get breakfast tomorrow morning (wow, isn’t that suggestive). 

You’ve never been walked to your door before by three men. Granted, they’re just next door and you’ve also never been walked to a train cabin door before. But you recognize that if anyone paid attention to your little party, they might be envious.

You’re kinda envious. Of yourself.

Three of you pause at your door. Jisung continues to the cabin before realizing that everyone else has stopped and readily looks abashed as he comes back the six feet. 

“So,” you begin, scanning your phone over the pad on the door. “I don’t think any one of us is an axe murderer.”

There’s a collective chuckle.

“Who uses axes anymore,” Jisung says before considering. “I don’t suppose that really helps my case.”

Chan pops him lightly on the back of the head again. “I think,” he says to you. “That whoever can just sleep on the extra bed. We’ll keep all our stuff and such in our cabin. If you’re still okay with this. It’s really alright if you’re not. Ax murderers or not, it’s your space.”

You glance at Changbin, remembering the warmth of his arm when it pressed against yours randomly through dinner. 

“That’s fine. I guess brushing your teeth in front of a stranger is pretty weird.”

You hear Changbin’s snort of amusement before looking at him again. It’s hard not to stare at him. It was actually good he sat next to you during dinner, so you had to make the effort to look at him, so it was easy to tell and force yourself not to. Because that’s what you want to do. Memorize everything about him. The line of his jaw, the placement of his dimples when he grins, the rapid-fire of his laugh. 

God, you’re going to need some serious time to process what is going on with you. 

“Yeah, just knock whenever,” you continue, forcing yourself to look away from him. “I’ll probably stay up for a bit to journal and take some notes.”

You don’t ask who will be using the empty bed in your cabin. It’s too weird, beyond what this already is, but you are trying not to give away the way one man keeps stealing your attention and focus. 

You have never done a one-night stand and you don’t think that in a train cabin next to his friends would be a good place to start. 

You bid them a good night and enter your cabin. You lean on the closed door and let out a huge sigh before hurriedly getting ready for bed in the worry that maybe one of them will show up soon.

Also, you probably don’t need all your underthings just out to be seen.

You settle in your pajamas (sweatshirt and shorts because you always forget to buy fun pjs) and situate your laptop and journal in the bottom bunk. More time passes than you think it would take a guy to get ready, but it is kind of early to go to sleep, so you work on just focusing on organizing and writing copy for what you captured today. 

You’re working on describing your supper in good detail when there’s a knock on your cabin door. 

You almost fall in your stumble to get to the door, opening it and staring.

“Hey.”

Changbin, dressed in a sleeveless t-shirt and nylon shorts, stands there, the half-grin in place. He has a small backpack over his shoulder. 

“Hi.” You step back to let him in, watching as he closes the door behind him. “It’s a good look.” You speak before thinking. 

He laughs, leaning on the door. “Thanks, I try.” His eyes drop to take in your sleepwear. “Also, a good look.”

“Scantily-clad lingerie is so overrated.”

“Is it?”

God, you really shouldn’t have wine.

“Um, I took the bottom bunk.” You point to the beds. “Hope that’s okay.”

“It’s your room. I’m just grateful to not have to sleep on the floor. Or try and drown out Jisung’s snoring.” He moves easily toward the beds, climbing up to the top, slinging his bag on the mattress. 

“No axes in there?”

He plops down, legs having over the side and his grin widens. “Just a tiny one. In case I need to defend myself.”

“From me?” 

“Or Dementors.”

It’s easy to laugh and it decreases the tension a little especially when he swings his legs as you move back to your little nest on your bed. 

“So. What’re you doing?” He moves so he’s laying down and looking over the side of the bunk at you. You look up, finding the fact that you chose to put the man on top of you (with space and a bed in between but still) probably a dumb dumb idea. 

“Working. Or more like brainstorming. I still need to figure out where I want to go, when, how, etc. I make itineraries, but really flexible ones because if I’m too rigid, I don’t have fun.”

“Makes sense.” He goes quiet for a second. “Can I…be really self-involved for a second?”

“Absolutely. It’s encouraged.”

He grins again and hurries down to the floor next to where you have tucked yourself in. He gestures to the open space at the foot.

You nod and he sits before offering wireless headphones. 

“Want to listen to something we finished last week?”

“Absolutely,” you say again, reaching out with almost ‘grabby hands’. He laughs at your enthusiasm and leans in to place the headset over your ears. Your smile fades with him that close. It’s a move, it has to be. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. His face is about a foot or so away from yours and you want to touch his cheeks and feel if they are soft and smooth like they appear. He meets your eyes once the headphones are in place and there’s a softness in his curled lips. 

You absolutely want to kiss a stranger. 

He sits back and opens his phone to press play. “Too quiet?”

The instrumentation is soft, so you nod and he presses the side of his phone a few times before you nod again. 

You aren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this. It’s not hip hop, with its intense beats and rhythm. There is synth and piano at a much softer, flowy-ier tempo. 

“Oh it’s pretty,” you say quietly. He smiles but then looks down at the phone as you listen. You wonder if he can sense where you are in the song with just watching the time counter move along. 

You wonder who does the higher notes, whose voice is harsh and rough, who sounds more like he could be in a choir. 

The song ends abruptly and you startle at it, glancing at Changbin. 

“We don’t have the ending quite right yet.”

“I think it should fade out,’ you say, again without thinking. “I mean, I know nothing about how to put a song together–”

“But you like music, so noted.” His smile is warm. “You liked it?”

“Very much. It’s…what I could understand cause I assume Korean?”

“You assume correct.” 

“It’s about dreams changing? Like how you wanted one thing and you realize that what you wanted has changed into something perhaps less impressive, but still matters to you?” Your eyes widen as you remove the headphones. “Or I could be projecting.”

He chuckles and reaches out for the headphones, his hand touching yours and you try to not shiver at the errant contact (can you still blame the wine?).

“No, that’s there. Maybe not as thought out as what you just said.” He fiddles with the headphones. “You’re really smart.”

“No. I just overthink.”

He makes a face at you, disapproving. “You’re smart. Take the compliment. The lauding.” 

You look away, feeling flushed. “Thank you.” Then you look back. “It’s really beautiful, Changbin. Like I was going to search for your music anyway, and listen and then decide how to tell you what I thought without being like super judgy or whatever, but wow.”

“Thanks.” He nods to your computer. “I showed you mine, you show me yours?”

The terminology (innuendo, wtf) makes you feel more than you should about trading work content with someone, but you nod and turn your laptop around, finding your YouTube channel and choosing a video from last year when you were in Barcelona, walking around to see every Anton Gaudi piece of architecture. He watches, occasionally glancing up at you.

“You don’t show yourself much.”

“Oh, yeah, well, it’s not about me. It’s about the experience. No one needs to see me to see the food, the sights.” 

“But they can hear you.” You do narrate quite a bit.

“Well, that’s done mostly after because then I can figure out what I want to say, clearly.”

“You have a nice voice.”

“Oh. Thank you.” You point to his phone. “Which voice are you?”

“Which do you think?” 

“That’s not fair. Our speaking voices don’t always match our performing ones.” You pout and he grins. 

“Guess.”

You sigh as though it’s a burden and he chuckles, eyes back on the video. 

“The low one. Like the raspier one.”

He smirks. “Good guess.”

“It’s nice. Like rough, but soothing too?” 

He stares at you as the video ends. 

“What?” Now you’re even more flustered. 

“Dunno. Kinda fascinated.”

You want to ask him. Does he feel it too? This weird something between you. But you actually think that might make the strange occurrence of him sleeping above you even more awkward. 

You turn your laptop back around and look at the screen like you can focus on anything but him. 

“I, uh, won’t be up much longer,” you begin, stuttering a bit as you can still feel his eyes on you. “So you can sleep soon.”

“We tend to late hours, the guys and me, so it’s more like I might keep you up.”

Your eyes dart to his, the tension back so strongly that you actually curl your fingers into the bedding as though it might keep you from reaching out to touch him. 

“Oh.” Smooth, very smooth.

He sits back, but doesn’t make any move to remove himself from your bed. “So…I feel like you should definitely see us at some point. Like come to Linlithgow when we’re there.”

“I should?”

He nods, resting on the opposing wall. HIs feet are still off, but the rest of him is on your bed. It’s intimate, a sleepover with a friend. 

A really attractive friend.

“Like after you do what you need to in the city…?” He glances at his hands then at you. “If you want.”

“I wouldn’t not want.”

He laughs.

“Sorry, that was terrible English,” you wave it away. “I wouldn’t want to disturb you guys though. You’re doing this to work.”

“Inspiration comes from all types of things. Including new people.” He looks like he might say more, but moves to get off the bed and you feel it acutely. “Besides,” he says as he starts back up into his bunk. “It shouldn’t all be work, right? All work, no play and all that?”

Why does he have to look so appealing saying the word ‘play’? You are so very tempted to say something about him staying in your bed, to play, to tease, to taste.

Too much. 

“Something like that.” If he hears the tremor in your voice, he doesn’t comment. 

You hear him settle in the bed above you and you try to focus on your work, though it’s not easy, hyper-aware of him as you are. 

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“This is dumb, but I’m really glad I got to meet you guys.”

There’s rustling and you look up to see him peer at you over the side of the bunk. He’s grinning. 

“It’s not dumb. And same.” Again he looks like he might say something else, but he just winks at you. “G’night.”

“Night. Sweet dreams.”

“Yeah, I hope so.” He laughs and rolls back over. You continue to do what you can; listening to the tinny sounds of whatever he’s vibing to on his phone, hearing each shift he makes in bed. You make decent progress and plan to record the audio sometime in your hotel room tomorrow night. You close down all your electronics, before getting up and moving to turn off the lamp light on the small table by the door. You carefully make your way back to your bunk.

“Again, night, neighbor.” His voice is impossibly lower and it makes you jump even if you assumed he wasn’t asleep yet. 

“Good night, Changbin.”

You curl up under the duvet and look outside at the pitch-black dark night before pulling the cord for the blinds and closing your eyes. 

–

When you wake up, the sun is just peeking over the horizon, the light diffused through the blinds right next to where you sleep. Despite being a little concerned that you might not sleep since you have a cabin mate, you actually wake feeling decently well-rested. Not that you are happy that the sun is making itself known in your face, but it isn’t the worst wake-up call. 

You stretch before reaching for your phone. You hear a deep inhale and it makes you freeze in your movements.

Right. A near-stranger slept in your cabin.

You stare up at the underside of the top bunk, mentally reviewing everything that happened yesterday. 

You are no closer to understanding why you feel so drawn to the man in your cabin than you were yesterday. 

With a sigh, you push yourself out of bed, stretching again once you’re on your feet. You move to the other side of the window, moving the blinds just enough so you can see out. 

It’s hard not to smile at the landscape that rushes by. The rolling hills, the sparse trees, the rock walls and hedges that provide simple borders. 

You hear the shifting in the top bunk and quickly drop the blinds.

He says your name, voice low and rough from sleep.

It takes you a second to respond, to make your voice not sound at all affected by just how much hearing him say your name in that tone warms you to near scorching. 

“Morning.”

You see him peer over at you, face flushed from sleep and eyes all squinty. 

It’s as devastating as when he’d been dressed up last night. 

“Time’isit?” he slurs, voice low and rumbly. 

“Not quite seven.”

He groans and rolls to his back. “Why up?”

You chuckle at the sleepy caveman speak. “Just woke up. Go back to sleep. I’ll be quiet.”

He snorts, rolling back over and propping himself up on one elbow, cheek to hand. “It’s your room. I can go back next door.” He blinks a few times as though you might be finally coming into focus. He smiles, as sleepy and cute as can be. “Though Ji and Chan might be violent if I wake them up.”

“Wouldn’t want you harmed,” you reply, and waves dismissively. “Go on, go back to sleep.”

He nods slow before letting his arm drop with the rest of him. You wait to see if he’s going to say more, but you hear the even breathing after a few seconds and it makes you smile. 

Seems like he’s good at that.

You gather your things for the day to take to the bathroom compartment down the hall (having showered the night before, but you aren’t about to change in the same room even if he is asleep). When you get back, you do some simple skincare and makeup before starting to pack everything up for disembarking in a few hours. 

There’s a loud thump sound from the other side of the wall, then muttered words (not English, you assume Korean) before another voice joins in and it’s not horribly loud, but it is noticeable. 

The other two must be awake.

“Changbin?” you say softly, not wanting to shock him awake. You move over to the bunks, again saying his name. Then you lightly touch his shoulder.

He hums before blinking his eyes open. He grins at you. 

“Missed me?”

“Of course.”

His eyes widen because you don’t argue and that makes you laugh. You point toward the wall. 

“Your friends are up.”

He turns, hair sticking out in all directions as he listens to the muted voices of his bandmates. He nods before sitting up. He searches the bedclothes before finding his phone. He points down toward the small nightstand. You grab his glasses as he opens his mouth.

“Can you–” He stops when you hand them to him. “Oh.”

You chuckle again and walk back to your suitcase, zipping it up and starting to fill your backpack with your journal and laptop and other vlogger accessories. 

“Hey.”

You look over to see him climbing down. He runs a hand through his hair, before shrugging.

“Thanks.”

“Oh. You’re welcome.” You feel your face heat with embarrassment. “Truly not a problem. Thanks for not being an ax murderer.”

He laughs before grabbing his bag from the carpet and moving toward the door. He pauses as he opens it then offers you his phone. 

“I…I can text you when we head to breakfast? If you want?” He is blushing slightly and you feel an immense amount of gratitude that he initiates the exchanging of contact information. You had been mulling over and over about the best way to make sure you could keep in contact with your next door neighbors (especially Changbin) and how not to make it obvious that you are interested (unless you should make it obvious…cause you are…right?…this weird connection is just…attraction…of some strange degree?) or awkward.

You nod to ease his discomfort and take his phone, fingers brushing and that definitely elicits some frissons. You input your number and hand it back. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” he says before giving you a large grin and heading out into the hallway. You look around the door to see and make sure he gets into his room. The door opens after he knocks and there’s a loud ‘Hyung!’ before he’s pulled in. 

You let out a breath.

Breakfast (preceded by a short ‘hungry?’ text from an unknown number - now not unknown) is much more relaxed than dinner was, the guys chatting about the cabin and decent sleep though Chan does complain about Jisung’s snoring to which Changbin who sits next to you again, says that you don’t snore with a familiar grin, discussing if they should store their bags and immediately go to Ediburgh castle, or check in at their hotel first then go.

As Jisung rants about how heavy their equipment is after prolonged carrying, Changbin leans over to you.

“Kinda silly, but promise me something?”

Is this it? Is he going to say something about the weird link that you feel…that he feels it too?

“Maybe.”

He scrunches up his nose at your cryptic response. 

“Don’t have haggis without me? I need moral support.”

It’s so not where your brain went that you have no idea what expression is on your face, but you laugh at the surprise of the request because only you are spiraling about this whole thing. He seems blissfully unaware.

Lucky him.

“I can keep that promise.”

He smiles back, squeezing your arm which repeats the tingles from earlier but more of them and you watch him, to see if anything in his face or reaction gives anything away.

Are you just the one losing your mind?

Perhaps it’s good that you’ll be on your own for a few days in the city before deciding whether or not to go meet up with them in Linlithgow (you refuse to admit that it’s 100% likely that you will). Maybe time away from him will fix your brain. Or whatever has you in such confusion. 

You all return to your respective cabins as arrival time is ahem, arriving soon. 

Changbin pauses by your door as the other two continue to their cabin. You stop half-way into the room. 

“Yes??”

He presses his lips together. “Nothing. Just seeing that you get in safely.”

“Going for the knight-in-shining-armor role?”

He doesn’t answer your teasing immediately, expression more contemplative. 

“Maybe.” There's a quick smile at the end of that, like he knows he’s being as cryptic as you were earlier. He takes a step closer, probably the closest that he’s been face-to-face with you. “That okay?”

Your breath hitches at his nearness and he has to hear it. His smirk is subtle, not as confident, but far more enticing. His eyes drop from yours to your mouth and back up so quickly that you almost believe you made it up.

But when he steps back, you’re sure you didn’t. Which means the butterflies in your stomach are not alone. 

Maybe he has a few too.

“Yeah. That’s okay.”  

He nods before walking to his cabin, looking back once then entering. You do the same. 

The train reaches Edinburgh Waverley station within the next twenty minutes and soon you are back on solid ground, less than 24 hours later, but, as you stand with the guys as they check their phone GPS, it is a very different you than previous. 

Even if it’s only you and not him. 

“So…” Jisung begins once they have decided they know where they’re going. “We’ll see you?”

You smile. “Most likely.” You glance at Changbin who raises his eyebrows. “Probably yes. I’ll let you know.”

“Have fun, then. Be safe, yeah?” Chan says and comes over to hug you like that level of familiarity has been established between all of you. You don’t mind. Not a bit, and you’re grateful that he is so unawkward about it. He’s warm and smells good, like sun-warmed grass. He releases you before hefting the guitar over his shoulder and heading toward the street level. Jisung, notably more reserved, waves at you before following Chan. 

You look at Changbin who hasn’t looked away. Feeling bold because ‘what the hell’, you open your arms in a blatant hug invitation, and he laughs before sliding off his shoulder bag and coming up to wrap his arms around you.

Oh god in heaven, wow. 

Chan was warm, but Changbin is searing. The weather this far north is chilly and though you’ve dressed for such a change, Changbin is far better as a heater than your hoodie. You hope you’re not being creepy when your eyes close and you breathe in; spicy and floral. You feel him turn his head a bit, his arms tighten, but then he lets go almost abruptly. You feel a whine at the back of your throat but you swallow it down. 

He tucks his hands into his pockets.

“Text once and awhile. Okay?” His smile is sheepish. “So this knight doesn’t worry.”

“Will do, Mr. Knight.” 

He jogs off, bag back on his shoulder, after his friends and they soon disappear among the crowd of morning commuters. 

You have many things to do but you don’t immediately start because if only for a moment, you feel bereft.

–

You spend four days in Edinburgh. You go to the castle though you’ve been before because it really is one of the loveliest sights in the country. You take your camera to The Writers Museum, showcasing it because it’s super interesting and also free admission. Not free really because you buy a ridiculous amount of souvenirs from the gift shop. You tell yourself and your followers that you’ll use them as gifts, even offering a few as a giveaway. 

You (on encouragement from a few comments) decided to do one of the haunted walking tours (there are several to choose from), checking with those in charge that your recording will not be a problem. They seem delighted for the free publicity and some spooky tales or shots will be a lot of fun.

You temporarily forget that you don’t like scary things.

It’s halfway through the tour and you are doing your best to record, listen and not gasp in terror or cover your ears like a child who doesn’t like what they are being told. You know your heart is pumping so fast because you feel it and why did you do this to yourself?

There’s a split second of you wishing Changbin was with you and hugging you again because that is your most recent memory of feeling safe. Hugs are naturally just a wonderful thing, but his had gone beyond that.

In your time alone in the city, you’ve given some thought to the strange draw you have to a stranger (though less of a stranger now). You definitely have found random people you run across in your travels as attractive. You aren’t blind. Beauty in people is just as soul-reviving as beauty in landscape and architecture. 

You’ve dated, but not lately. Your job can keep you away for periods at a time and though you’ve never been seriously tempted to be unfaithful, your partners have been more paranoid. That lack of trust bothered you more than any idiosyncrasies in dealing with combining two lives together. 

You have never seen someone in passing and felt like if you didn’t meet, didn’t talk, didn’t have a moment to interact; that you would spend your days living in regret. The desire to know someone has never possessed you at any point that you can remember. And now that you do know him a little? It just makes you want to know more. In a mental list, you have questions you want to ask him. 

He’s texted you. Photos of their time in Edinburgh; the castle and classic tattoo performance, all the food and drink, the statues that he and his friends sometimes pose like or with. You’ve texted back comments and suggestions. You’ve sent photos you wouldn’t use on your platforms; silly ones that would make the blooper reel if you had one for your life, ones that are just moments in your wanderings that you think he might like. You exchange song recommendations. You didn’t know he’d also like ballads, and softer songs. 

You’ve looked them up on youtube (they never mentioned their group name, but a search of ‘chan, jisung, changbin’ only brings up one group) and listened to their songs. It’s not your typical listening, but you like it. You buy an album digitally and when you just walk through the streets, you pop in your earbuds and listen to them. You look up lyrics when you have a moment, Korean being the dominant language in all their songs. You mull over the themes of their work, it makes you add new mental questions to that list. 

You get a photo of their little Airbnb when they are in Linlithgow. There’s pictures of the sun reflecting on the loch, the castle in the distance. Chan in front his laptop with music making paraphernalia. Jisung with his forehead furrowed, scribbling something on paper. 

Changbin making a duck face selfie.

>>Haggis soon?

The text comes in when you are in your inn room, editing more recent footage. Your time is coming to an end in the city and you’ve not said anything because you aren't sure they, or he, will still want you to come visit. Your original plan was to stay only a few days, maybe a day trip somewhere near, and then get back on the train to London. 

Plans change.

<<if you still want to? you’re supposed to be writing great masterpieces.

>> (pout emoji) 

<<not going well?

>>it’s okay. it’s really peaceful here and i get distracted by just sitting on a bench, watching people. 

<<i know for a fact that’s good for inspiration.

>>you’re avoiding answering my question. Are you coming to see us?

<<I booked a room for tomorrow night. Celebratory haggis for dinner?

>>YES

You’ve adjusted your train ticket back to London, giving yourself more time, but you can’t help but wonder what will happen when you go back home and he goes back to Korea. 

–

When you first ran into the trio, you weren’t nervous because you didn’t know. This time around, your heart is prematurely thumping like you’ve run all the way from Edinburgh. You’ve checked into your room at the pub/inn you’re staying at, then back on the street to view the centuries old architecture. It’s definitely a wet day, the clouds are ominous, so you’ve thrown your umbrella into your backpack and layered under your hoodie. 

You have plans for dinner with them; a local restaurant that the owner of their Airbnb recommended. There’s no reason for you to see them before that. But despite that knowledge, you keep your eyes peeled (what a weird phrase, honestly) for any familiar sightings. 

You walk along the street, trying to remember to look down because the streets are not even in these old villages and you wouldn’t say you’re clumsy, but you wouldn’t say you’re grace personified either. The buildings are magnificent though. The style sends you back to books you’ve read about tiny villages and murder mysteries that never scare you, just make you want to live in a cozy place and live a cozy life. 

You pause in front of the third pub you’ve passed by, wondering if going in for a drink would settle the buzz of nerves currently rippling through you. 

You hear your name.

You turn to see Changbin jogging up to you with a grin on his face, and he’s pulled you into a hug before you can piece together that he’s on his own, without his friends. 

“You didn’t say you were here yet,” he says, voice muffled by your hair before he draws back, still grinning. 

It’s stronger, the tether that you’ve felt since first laying eyes on him. You want to kiss him. 

Like really really want to kiss him. 

The urge startles you and you take a second to smile back, to cover that insane desire. You barely know him. What you know, you like, but you need to chill. 

“Hi.” 

Good job. Real eloquent and normal.

He laughs and squeezes your arm before letting go. He’s wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a backwards snapback. 

It’s so casual and normal, and you feel a bit light-headed.

You almost move to hug him again. 

“Where’s the rest of 3racha?”

He shrugs. “Ji is currently down the rabbit hole of youtube, and Chan is frustratedly working on a track and does not want any outside input at the moment. I decided to go for a workout.” He smiles again, tugging on the straps of his gym bag that’s hanging on his shoulder.. “And I found you.”

His smile drops when you don’t say anything. 

“I mean, unless you’re working right now? I’m sorry. You probably are and–”

“No, I’m sorry, I just…” You trail off, trying to figure out how the simple ‘I found you’ with that amount of sincerity destroys you, in all the best ways, and you can’t share that with him. “I’m kinda always working, so please, distract me.”

That pretty rose color lightens his cheeks and you wonder if maybe your words carried more underneath them than just a casual ‘let’s hang’ vibe.

“Wanna go work out?” he asks, teasing. You look down at your all-terrain boots and jeans then back at him. “No?”

“I guess these aren’t god-given?” You poke his arm, trying not to laugh when he flexes. You think it’s probably instinctual. 

He eyes you suspiciously but there’s still that hint of smile on his lips. “Nope. Requires maintenance.”

“My maintenance is just the walking I do for work.”

He nods. “Wanna walk then?” He zips up his windbreaker, seeming okay with the change in plans. 

“You don’t…don’t you want to go build muscle or something?”

He shakes his head. “Not right now.” He nods in the direction you were heading. “Come on. I’ll show you a nice spot.” He takes your hand and starts walking. You don’t resist.

Why would you?

His hand is warm, a little rough with calluses (probably from those beloved barbells). He’s speaking but for a few seconds you don’t comprehend because it’s been ages since you’ve had your hand held; nothing beyond a handshake or someone maybe helping you in and out of a mode of transportation. 

And it’s just so nice. 

“We haven’t tried there yet.” His words finally come into being understandable, even though you are still fixated on your hand in his. “But I want to. I think pubs might be one of my favorite things about the U.K.”

“No pubs in Korea?”

He takes you down a narrow street, cobblestoned and a little smelly. The wind picks up because of the condensed space and you shiver. 

“You’ve never been?”

“To Korea? No. Not yet.” It’s on your list. As is most of east Asia. Perhaps now, knowing them, you might put your focus on affording that type of trip. 

“Pubs aren’t really a thing. Not like here. There’s bars, restaurants that you drink in, but it doesn’t quite have the same laid-back feel.” He pauses at the curb, waiting for a cab to pass. Then he continues on, still holding your hand and you think it’d be really easy for him to lead you anywhere. 

“Same. I mean, for the States. We have bars, clubs. I feel like coffee houses are close to the same vibe, but generally no alcohol.”

He’s led you to a small park, complete with wrought iron benches and trees that if it was spring or summer, would be full of green. Full of leaves and would block the view of the still lake beyond the bank.

“Oh.”

“Right? It’s really pretty.” He tugs you toward one of the benches that faces the lake, where the reflection of the local castle is near perfect, minus a few rolls that warp the shape of the towers when wind touches the water. He sits and you sit, staring at the picturesque beauty. 

He lets go of your hand and you have to hold yourself back from taking it again.

You pull out your GoPro, opening it before getting up to find a few angles. 

“I watched some of your videos. When are you putting up the Edinburgh ones?”

You frame the castle reflection before capturing it digitally. “Probably in a day or two. It takes awhile to edit and do the voiceover. Also…” You glance back at him. “I don’t like to post when I’m in the same place. In case there are any–”

“Ax murderers?”

You smile. “Yeah.”

“That’s smart.” He leans back on the bench, letting his small gym bag fall to the ground. 

Manspreading is something you normally despise, especially on public transportation, but as with everything else, Changbin is the exception. 

An image of you climbing onto his lap flashes through your mind, and you spin around to look back at the castle, mortified at your own thoughts. It seems invasive to think of him like that. 

“Which videos did you watch?”

“Some of your first ones.”

You turn back to him in horror. “You didn’t.”

He grins, as though pleased that he’s made you embarrassed. “There’s a lot more of you in those. How old are you then?”

“Gah, right out of university.” You shake your head as you walk back to sit on the bench with him. “I knew nothing.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“The editing is mediocre, the shots and angles are pedestrian, my voice is–”

He’s laughing. 

“I can’t believe you went back that far.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t listen to our first songs?”

“To be fair,” you begin, caught but ready to defend. “You have less songs than I have videos, because your songs take more work…” He’s still grinning and you shrug. “‘Wow’ is especially enjoyable.”

Now it’s his turn to look away and grimace in pain. “Yeah. If fans didn’t love it, ironically probably, I’d make that disappear.”

“Shows how far you’ve come.”

He looks back at you, eyes warming. “Same for you.”

The warmth is unnerving and you look back at the perfect view of water and architecture. “You come out here a lot?”

“I’ve been twice? Since we’ve been here. I don’t usually just sit and stare out into nothing. That’s more Ji’s thing. He’s the introvert.”

“And Chan?”

He sits up and rests his forearms on his thighs, watching a lady push a stroller while talking on the phone. “He’s a workaholic. Even more than Ji and I. Sometimes I have to wrestle him into bed so he can get some sleep.”

“Can you take him in a fight?”

He smirks. “He’s taller, but I’m stronger.”

You mimic his position, watching the branches seesaw with the wind. “Who wrestles you into bed?” The moment you say it, you recognize what else it could mean. That perhaps just being around him layers your words with implications that hint and tease and lure. 

You feel his gaze, but you stubbornly look at the trees, even though you’re sure he can see the heat on your cheeks.

“No one. Lately.”

You swallow and let your eyes drift to him. He seems undaunted by your words or even his response. You think you could ask him, right now, if he’s having the same feelings as you; a practical stranger. You think he would tell you the truth. 

But you hear the sound of a vibrating phone and he jolts at it, letting out a huff before pulling it out of his pocket to answer.

“Yeah?” The conversation moves into Korean and you do hear your name, but the rest of it is lost to you. You sit up, messing with the settings on your GoPro, taking a few shots, trying to capture the quiet in a photo.

“That was Chan.” Changbin tells you. “It’s early, but Ji is starving.” He rests his arm on the back of the bench, his fingers centimeters from your arm. “Hungry?”

“I can always eat.”

He smiles at that, standing up to grab his bag and fit it on his shoulder before offering his hand. “Same, really.”

If you post those castle photos, you aren’t sure what you'll caption them, as your biggest impression of that hour was holding Changbin’s hand. 

–

“You didn’t!?” You cover your mouth as you laugh, hilarity infecting Jisung and Chan as well. Changbin looks pained as he stares at his plate. “You looked it up. You shouldn’t have.”

“I always check what I’m about to put in my body,” he answers, lips in near pout. “I knew it was going to be unusual, but…”

Haggis sits on his plate, awaiting a first bite, and you think, it looks a bit sad that it hasn’t been partaken yet. 

It might be the beer you’ve all had, but the giggling doesn’t cease. You lean over and cut it open, taking a forkful without even asking him. Later, you’ll blame intoxication. 

“See?” You take a bite, chewing and grinning at him. Then you pause. “Okay, that’s excellent.” 

He doesn’t look very convinced. “I…”

You grab his fork, do the same and offer it to him. “No regrets. If you hate it, at least it is an informed opinion.”

His lips part at the beckoning expression you give him. The other two are still laughing, teasing him, but the way he looks at you seems to drown them out. Like it all fades and you swear you can hear how his breathing changes, as though his heart speeds up.

“Come on, you’ll never know unless you try.” 

He lets you feed him, something you’ve never done outside a few gigs babysitting as a teenager. And it wasn’t like this.

It takes far too long for you to drag your eyes from his lips, to look up to his eyes, to see if he liked the Scottish delicacy.

His thoughtful face is cute. 

You set the fork down, drawing back, as though you’ve finally realized just how forward, how flirty you’ve been. You know there’s nothing wrong with it, if he’s not bothered, but you feel bashful nonetheless. 

You aren’t usually this person. Not since you were in school, when opportunities to meet and date seemed endless. 

“So?” Jisung pipes up. “Verdict?”

Changbin swallows, turning from you to his friends. “It’s actually…pretty good.”

Jisung takes that as permission, grabbing his own bite, as does Chan. You coerce yourself into watching them, not him, as they make similar confused and pensive expressions. As you do, you muse that you aren’t sure how three friends could all be so handsome, each in their own way.

Why only one of them seems to be bewitching you.

He’s sitting next to you again, but it’s in a booth not separate chairs, and though you aren’t touching, you can feel the heat of him in the few inches between you. 

“Maybe not something I’d eat all the time,” Chan says. “But certainly not gross.”

Jisung nods. “Especially if I don’t think about what it is.” He even takes another bite. 

Changbin fiddles with his fork before taking a swallow of his pint. 

“I like it.”

You smile. 

The guys mostly talk music for the rest of the meal. Chan even apologizes to you, but you wave it off. You’re fascinated by artists of any kind, how they create. You sip your cider, listening to them, even when they forget you and speak in Korean. It’s a nice, hazy feeling. The coziness of the pub, the talking around you, voices with different accents, the music filling in any lull in conversation. 

Perhaps the cider is stronger than you thought.

“You falling asleep?” 

You tilt your head toward him. He’s removed the snapback, run his hand through his hair a few times and you want to do the same. 

“No.”

“You sure?” 

You are slumped against the back of the booth, warm and comfortable. In a distant part of your brain, you chastise that you haven’t taken more photos or video of the meal, but it’s nice. Nice to be here. 

“I think she’s fading.” You hear Chan. You shake your head. “How early did you get up today?”

“Not early…I just haven’t slept super well since the haunted walking tour thingy.” It isn’t until Changbin touches your bottom lip that you realize you’re pouting.

And that he’s touched you. 

“Was that fun?” Jisung asks, animated. 

“No. Not by myself.” You watch Changbin who has gone back to his food and beer. “Probably would be fun with someone.” 

He glances at you and holds your gaze for a few seconds before saying something to Jisung about his horror film obsession. 

You don’t fall asleep, but you are definitely close when you fight them for the bill. You win this time. 

The walk outside into the night is a good wake up, the air far chillier than when the four of you entered the establishment. You wrap your arms around yourself, not too cold, but not warm either. 

“Nightcap?” Chan asks. “I don’t think I can go back to working just yet.”

“I want to,” you say. “But I think I need to go to bed.”

“Rain check,” he says, smiling fondly. “Come on, Ji.” He wraps his arm around his younger friend. “First one’s on you.”

“Why me?” He complains as the two of them cross the street to a pub that sounds and looks lively. They both wave at you before disappearing through the doors. 

“I’ll walk you back.”

“You can go on,” you protest, shivering a little. “I know how to get back.”

He pulls up the hood over your hair, tightening the strings. “I’m walking you back.” He states again, taking your hand. 

You aren’t about to refuse.

“Don’t you want to go with them?”

He gives you a look that you can’t really decipher. When he lets go of your hand, you open your mouth to argue, but he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you close. It’s a second later that you feel a group of people walk by, nonverbally explaining why he does so.

You look up at him, your hand on his chest.

“They were–I mean–” He is blushing, before releasing you. “I didn’t want you to get bumped into.”

“Thanks.”

He nods, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep going. You loop your arm with his. He almost stumbles but doesn’t say anything.

Neither do you.

It’s a few minutes more until you’re in front of your lodging.

“Well…” you begin, but he enters. “Changbin I can…”

“I know you can, but I want to.” There’s a stubborn set to his jaw and mouth and you resist cooing over it because for someone who could probably lift you with ease, he’s adorable. 

You wave at the innkeeper, trying not to look shameful that you are bringing someone up the stairs with you. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but it does feel cheap, as though this person you’ve met days ago is just a fling. Not someone making sure that you are safe in your room, not someone that you find yourself thinking about hourly. 

Not someone important.

You stop in front of your room, pulling out the skeleton key and unlocking it before turning to your bodyguard. 

“Thank you for seeing me to my room, Mr. Knight.”

He smiles at the reference. “You’re welcome.” He moves to slip the hood off your head, smoothing your hair. “I hope you sleep better.”

“Me too.”

He swallows and you watch the movement of his throat with avid interest. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna work out tomorrow morning, but do you want to do anything? Together? I could help you record or whatever, if you wanted.” He’s got his hands in his pockets again, his windbreaker zipped all the way up, eyes wide and inquiring. 

“Fuck, you are so cute,” you breathe. His eyes get even wider. “Like, sorry, that’s…you are. Really attractive.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He’s so taken aback by your words that you giggle. That smirk returns, painting him far more confident than he just was. He moves a few steps closer. “Is that a yes?”

He is so close.

“Yes?”

He grins even more. “To tomorrow? Hanging out.” He takes one of the strings of your hoodie, tugs it lightly and wraps it around his finger. 

“Sure. I’ll put you to work carrying my stuff.”

He tilts his head down, his eyes dropping to your lips. “I can do that.” His nose touches yours. “And same by the way.”

“Hmm?” You can’t look away from his mouth.

“You’re also really cute. Attractive.” He pauses to let that sink in. “Pretty.” He moves so carefully and your eyes fall shut, sure to feel his lips on yours, but you don’t.

He kisses you on the cheek. Your eyes flutter open and he’s watching you, searching. He starts to pull back, but you grasp the collar of his windbreaker, halting his retreat. 

Your name falls from his lips, and you figure what the hell.

You kiss him. 

It’s a bit forceful, perhaps your coordination is off from the drinking, but his little grunt when your lips meet makes you soften immediately. Your grip relaxes, your hands seeking out the curls at the nape of his neck. You feel him tremble, then you feel his hands on your hips.

Your head falls back against the door as he licks into your mouth, apparently no longer caught off guard by your forwardness. He tastes a little bitter from the beer he imbibed, but the heat, his tongue curling with yours makes your fingers tighten as though holding onto his shoulders might keep you from collapsing. 

One hand captures you by the jaw, a gentle maneuvering so he can kiss you deeper. You hear his hat fall to the floor when your greedy fingers card through his hair, soft and silky. He takes a step in, and his hips align with yours.

It’s like fireworks explode under your skin. 

In case you questioned whether or not he was interested, you aren’t questioning now. He’s hard, pressed against you in a way that makes you hungrier than you’ve ever been. 

You absolutely crave him. 

His mouth leaves yours, and you whimper at the loss. There’s a dark chuckle, arrogant, before he graces your neck with soft pecks, ending with a nip and a suck, right near your collarbone, your hoodie pushed aside to let him taste. 

You stutter his name. 

There’s a pause in his ministrations, his thumb running along your lower lip. He raises his head as your eyes open. You can see a reflection of your desire in his eyes, in the focus of his gaze. 

His thumb pulls on your lip, as though seeking the wet heat of your mouth. Your tongue flicks the tip and his eyes go even darker. You think maybe he growls before slotting his mouth back over yours, tongue stroking and enticing. 

There’s a creak of footsteps coming up the stairs and you break apart, chests heaving with breathlessness. His face is flushed, hair and eyes a little wild, and you wonder if this is how he looks post workout, post other exertions.

A runaway thought about licking the sweat off his neck ping-pongs in your brain, but you won’t ever verbalize it. 

You both wait until the guest passes down the hall to their room before either of you speak. He leans down to grab his hat.

“Do we blame the beer?” you ask softly.

“You had cider.”

It’s almost petulant, his words, and it surprises a laugh out of you. His answering smile is soft, and he cups your cheek in his hand. 

“You should go sleep.” His index finger taps lightly on your ear, playful.

You want to protest, to invite him in, but this evening has already sped past any rules you’ve ever had in place for dating and sex. 

A moment to process, to think. 

“Yeah.”

He kisses you again, but it’s chaste and sweet. A good night kiss as though you two are familiar with each other. 

“Message me when you wake up?” His voice is barely a whisper. His nose slides along yours before he drops another kiss and backs up. “Sweet dreams.”

“Yeah.” You are incapable of anything more eloquent than that at the moment. He grins, squeezing your hand before heading toward the stairs. You open the door, still with your back against it, resistant to look away. 

“Night.”

“Good night,” you answer before finally shutting the door behind you. You allow yourself the cliche romantic moment of leaning and sliding down to the floor, completely enamored.

–

You wake and check your phone out of habit. 

Wanna do breakfast? 

It was nearly an hour ago that it was sent, but you hope it’s still an option. The overabundance of cider ensured you slept hard last night, which given how much the man at the other end of this text filled your brain, you are grateful. Because it’s a new day. Sun’s coming up and things that are easy and make sense late into the night, under the influence of alcohol, sometimes feel rather foolish in the light of day.

You want to see him. After last night, after kissing, touching…just feeling; you feel like the one time you’d had a crush in middle school.

The beginnings of crushing. That quickly turned painful and awkward (the epitome of middle school life), and even thinking of it dampens your present joy.

You shove it away, intent on appreciating that the strange inclination that appeared at just seeing Changbin seems to be somewhat reciprocated.

Yes. This pub has breakfast. Wanna meet me?

Give me 15. Have to shower and I’ll be there.

You did not need that mental image.

You may spend a minute more on your face this morning, but then your brain is taken over by thoughts of what to see and what to do for your channel. You keep a decently consistent upload schedule (the only way to keep viewers sticking around), and you posted the last one of your last excursion.

It’s time.

The worry from two seconds ago reappears. 

You find a table downstairs in the pub and order a tea (when in the UK). You check your instagram and TikTok platforms. You’d posted just the castle reflection (no location mentioned) yesterday and just looking at it again warms you.

“Hey.”

You look up from your phone to see Changbin sliding in the chair across from you. His hair is damp and curly, reminding you of that mental image you do not need to have. He wears not all black today, but a pale pink hoodie and dark jeans. He smiles once you make eye contact.

“Morning.”

You reply the same, your own gaze falling to his lips, which flusters you immensely, so you sit up, put your phone away.

“I didn’t know if you were coffee or a tea person.”

“Oh. Coffee. But,” he looks at your cup. “That actually looks good.”

You offer it to him. “Try. You should at least try good breakfast tea while you’re here.” 

He takes it from you, sipping it before staring off as he contemplates. 

“You can have it just plain. I always add milk and sugar. It’s good without too.”

He smiles. “Oh I can?”

You fluster yet again. 

“It’s cute. You’re like a tea missionary all of a sudden.”

He sets the tea back on your side as a server pops up for your order. Changbin orders a full Scottish breakfast (and tea), and you get porridge. 

“Good workout?”

He nods. “I haven’t really been diligent about it.”

“You’re traveling, of course you haven’t.” You rest your chin in your hand. “You enjoy it?”

“Yeah. I mean…” He blushes. “I could go on and on about everything to do with training, eating, all that. I don’t want to bore you.”

“As a person who knows very little, except to get some exercise to be healthy, I won’t be bored.”

He looks doubtful. “No?”

“Try me. I like learning stuff.”

He does know a lot. As much as you don’t think you will ever desire to be a gym rat in any circumstances, you find his enthusiasm wonderful. It’s perhaps one of your favorite things about traveling. A lot of it is solitary, but you do meet people, have conversations that only two strangers on a plane, train, or in a restaurant could have. People have passions, and they light up when they get to talk about them, or share them. 

You once had a two hour conversation with someone about red milkwood fruit and the best areas in South Africa to get it. 

It was really good. 

Food is delivered and Changbin’s commentary about leg day tapers off. You hide a smile as his focus becomes solely his meal. 

“I’d like to look at the castle today. I’m sure you’ve already gone?”

He chews slowly, but shakes his head.

“You haven’t?”

“All three of us had stuff to work on. Or wanted to work, so sight-seeing hasn’t happened yet. So, yeah, let’s go.”

“You don’t mind? I mean, I don’t want you to not work if–”

He interrupts you, saying your name. “You think I don’t want to spend time with you? After…” He’s the cutest thing when he blushes. 

You don’t suppose you look as cute when your face heats too. 

“So,” you save him from continuing, even though your voice definitely cracks, “The castle, and maybe a boat ride at the Canal Centre, the museum there too?” You meet his eyes. “You don’t have to do all of that with me if you don’t want to.”

He leans in a little (there are still two meals between you two). “I want to.” 

You can’t really find anything to say to that, not with that resolute tone that makes you want to crawl over the table (pretty sure the beans on his plate would stain your pants for eternity but it would be worth it) and continue where you left off last night. 

It’s a craving that your very nice porridge will not satiate.

And it’s a lot for you in your not very long time on this planet. 

He seems to feel the same if the way he’s looking at you is any indication, but he drops his gaze to go back to his meal. 

You do the same. 

When you’re outside after eating, he tugs on your backpack. You turn and he pulls it off you, sliding it onto his shoulders. His smile is a little cheeky and bashful. 

“You did say I could carry your stuff.”

“I did.” Can’t really argue with him about that. You open your phone to find the best walking route to the castle and let that lead you both. His hand slips into yours. 

You’ve never gotten to travel as part of a couple. This phase of your life started because you had wanted to see more than your state, and no one in your life was able to join you (commitments to jobs, partners, now kids). Traveling alone means no one puts any sort of expectations of what you do, when you do it, and where. It’s freedom.

But it’s terribly nice to walk hand in hand with someone down a cobblestoned street as you record the simplicity and antiquity of your surroundings. 

“Say hi!” you turn the camera on him and he doesn’t even hesitate, but gives a peace sign and a huge grin. You laugh that he’s so at ease with it, but remind yourself that he performs fairly regularly. 

To see them live would be an experience. 

“Did you know this palace is the birthplace of Mary Queen of Scots?” you ask him, camera still focused on his profile.

“I did not. Nor do I have a clue who that is.”

You laugh again. “Why would you?” You turn the camera back toward the castle in the distance. You do a quick speech about the little you know of British royals and history. “I’ll add more later,” you turn the camera to your face. “Edit this out, but keep in Changbin.”

“Wait, why?”

“Cause you’re cute and look good on camera.”

The blush is redder with the brisk wind. 

“I see how it is. You just want me for my looks.”

“Absolutely.” You may blush when you say it, but his answering laugh is worth it.

The castle is as castles are: drafty, wet-smelling, but still hold some sort of mystique due to age and grandeur. There’s a tour you follow, listening and taking the occasional note on your phone. Changbin is fairly quiet, though he mutters the occasional comment to you which makes you laugh a little too loudly and interrupt the tour guide. 

You really do try not to be the loud and rude American when you travel. 

“When I was little, I wanted to live in a castle,” you say to Changbin when the tour is over and you are just filming to get footage and B roll. 

“You don’t anymore?”

“Oh god no. It’s too cold. Too big. Too much to clean.”

He laughs and adjusts your backpack on his shoulders. “That’s not very romantic.”

“I’m not very…” You trail off, glancing at him as he looks out across the pond. The wind is up, ruffling his hair, and you think you might be a little romantic because your heart does swell when you look at him. 

“Hmm?” He looks back, and smiles.

“Never mind. Wanna head to the Canal Centre?”

“Sure.”

As you both walk that way, you see a group of people (possible power-walkers, is that a thing in Scotland?) coming down the road toward you. He takes you by the elbow and pulls you into a tiny alcove under the footbridge. You stumble into him as his arm wraps around your back. You look up to see him watching the crowd pass by before seeing your gaze. Pink tinges his cheeks in a faint blush. 

“There was–” He gestures with his other hand toward the now absent crowd. “It wasn’t a move, I promise.”

“It’s okay if it had been.”

One corner of his lips shoots up in a smirk-smile. “Yeah?” His arm tightens around you, pulling you flush against him. 

As you lean in to brush a kiss to his lips, your brain is reminding you that everything is on a deadline, and you should mention this to him. But the kiss (and he) is distracting. His hand is splayed in the middle of your back and he’s so warm. The kiss, that starts fairly chaste, morphs into heat, tongue and at least one moan. 

The moan is you.

“Public indecency charges in a foreign country are probably really difficult to get out of,” you mumble, mouth barely touching his. 

He chuckles, hand stroking down your back. “We probably shouldn’t find out.” He rests his head on the stone wall behind him.

You open your mouth to say something about your train leaving tomorrow, but he takes your hand and pulls you from the alcove to head back into the muted sunshine. 

The Canal Centre has options for 12 or 40 people, and requires advanced booking, so you and Changbin just wander through the museum before finding a spot in the tearoom to watch the boats pass. 

“It feels slower here,” he says softly as you look through the footage you’ve taken. 

You lift up your head and raise your eyebrows in question. He shrugs and takes a sip of tea in the dainty teacup. You gesture for him to hold that position as you snap a quick photo of his large hand wrapped around that delicate porcelain. 

“Just. Stopping for tea. Staring out at people. It’s all very calm.”

“We are kinda on vacation. Working here would be different.”

“I’m sure. But even that…people are out for lunch, just heading to the pub and spending time eating and socializing. We do that in Korea, but usually after work, late, for supper and drinks.” He sets the cup back down. “Just different.”

“America never seems to stop. Just get into your car, drive, work, eat as fast as you can, drive home, crash. Maybe go out, but I couldn’t usually muster up the energy post-work.” 

“I’ve never been.” 

“No gigs in the US of A?”

“Not yet.” He meets your eyes before looking back at the boats. “I’m a bit bummed we didn’t get to ride in a boat.” He points at you, with excitement. “We could book for tomorrow if you wanted.”

It’s an anvil on your chest.

“What about your work?”

He gives you a look, like ‘are you kidding?’ “For a boat ride? With you? I think I can take a few hours.” He leans forward, resting his arms on the table, one hand seeking yours. “More content for you, ms. vlogger.”

You let him take your hand and then you take a deep breath. “My train leaves tomorrow.”

His thumb, rubbing over your knuckles, stills at your words. 

“It does?”

You grip his hand in case he thinks of letting go. “I have to get back. Money wise, content wise, just…life.” 

He stares at you, expression unreadable. 

“I’m sorry. I would stay if–”

“You need to get back.” He nods before letting go. “And I have songs to write.”

There are several other people in the tearoom and you want to say things, but it feels way too private for this public venue. 

“When do you guys head back to Korea?”

“End of next week.” He takes a deep breath, eyes back on the boats. His jaw tightens and he turns again back to you. “Come to Korea.”

“What?”

“In your travels, come.”

“I mean, I would like to. It’s on my list.”

“Move it up the list.”

You laugh, bewildered at his insistence. “I’ll try. It’s not like it’s easy to get to from America.”

He takes your hand again. “Come. Please.”

It’s a lot. To not look away from the intensity of his gaze, those brown eyes entreating. 

“You gonna come to the States?”

“Yes.”

No question, no hesitation. 

“Oh.”

He says your name, then looks around. “Can we go somewhere and talk about this?” He takes out some British pounds and leaves them on the table. “Please?”

You gather your things and follow him out. He takes your hand and leads you back to the park from yesterday. He pulls you next to him on the bench, sliding your backpack onto the ground.

But he doesn’t speak. He stares back out across the water, his hand in yours. 

“Bin?”

He turns with a smile. “First time you’ve called me that.” He moves closer, his smile faltering. “Maybe I’m completely off, but this is something.” He gestures to the space between the two of you on ‘this’. “Right? It’s not, it can’t be just a hookup. I…don’t want to not see you again.”

It’s hard to speak. To follow the rapidity of what he says. 

“Right?” He forces a smile. “You weren’t just gonna fuck me and leave?”

You hide your face, embarrassed at his words. “I hadn’t even…I mean, I thought about…oh god.”

He rests his hands on your shoulders, saying your name again. “Talk to me. I realize I am not being at all cool and detached about this. But, when I saw you on the train, I…it’s so cliched and just bad romance movie shit, but I felt something.”

Your head raises up so quickly, his hands tighten in surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah. Like, I mean, you’re cute as fuck, but it was more than that.” He watches your face. “You did too, didn’t you?”

“I thought my heart was going to beat itself into exploding.”

He grins. “I don’t think that makes sense.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my first time.”

“Mine too.” He presses his lips together before speaking. “It’s big, right? Like I don’t know everything about you, but…”

“It feels like it? Yeah.” You feel your face heat. “It’s both super familiar and safe, but also, all the butterflies and anticipation and–”

He kisses you. “That.”

“Yes.” You kiss him back, and he holds you so close that you’re almost in his lap. 

He moves his hands to your face. “We travel, the guys and me. Perform. Then we lock ourselves in the studio for the rest of the year. You can be there, for any of that. As much as you want.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “We’ve wanted to go to America for a couple years now, we have fans there…”

“I could travel with you guys?”

“Yeah. When you can.” He makes a face. “I mean, I’ll talk to them about it, but they know.”

“They know?”

He doesn’t let go of you, but his eyes do dart away, embarrassed. “They know that I’m into you. That something is going on.” He rolls his eyes. “Ji is especially annoying about it.”

You smile. “I bet.” You encircle his wrists with your hands. “So…long distance, huh?”

He swallows. “I’m game.”

“Me too.” It settles your heart and nerves to hear it. To hear that he feels and has been going through the same as you. That you aren’t alone in this. 

You aren’t alone, at all. 

His thumbs sweep along your cheekbones. “Okay.” His shoulders lower, relaxing. “Okay.”

You kiss him, letting go of his wrists and fully moving onto his lap, arms around his neck. He holds you close, mouth opening to taste you. It’s horribly public, but you don’t really care. 

How could you, in his arms?

When his hand slips under the back of your pants, he mumbles something against your skin.

“Hmm?”

“Thinking about those public indecency laws,” he says. 

You giggle as he looks up at you. “You say the sweetest things, Changbin.” 

He snorts but stares at you. 

You comb his hair off his forehead, staring back. “Pretty.”

He makes a face at you, but doesn’t look away. “I think we’re getting sappy.”

“Maybe a little.” 

You kiss his nose. “I like you.”

He smiles wide. “Yeah?”

“A lot.”

His wayward hand takes one grab of your ass, making you yelp and him laugh. 

“I like you too,” he murmurs, mouth tracing down the shell of your ear. “A lot a lot.”

—

Supper is with Jisung and Chan again, no haggis this time. The four of you opt for curry, and you are given a front row seat to Changbin’s ability to handle spice and how Chan and Jisung don’t handle it.

Though all three do way better than you as you ask the server for the least spicy curry on the menu. And even then, you make good use of the naan in the middle of the table. 

Changbin sits next to you, thigh flush to yours. His hand finds your leg often, resting on it, tapping a rhythm on your knee, fingers slipping to your inner thigh; hints of more, both casual and intentional. 

“You don’t mind?”

Chan glances at you from taking a swig of his pint. “Not at all. It’d be nice to have someone along. We have roadies, of course. But like…” He shrugs. “We put up with Ji, so you’ll be a breeze.”

Jisung glares at him. “I’m an angel.”

“I would check with you about anything I post, of course.”

Chan smiles warmly. “I trust you. Pretty obvious the moment you offered us a bed.”

It feels like years ago.

“I still can’t believe I did that.” You shake your head. “I’m lucky I’m not a True Crime podcast episode.” 

“Or Bin isn’t.” Jisung says. “All you’d have to do is get him working and like, you could sneak up on him so easily.” He chews then swallows. “Not that I’ve thought about it.”

“Feeling’s mutual, Ji,” Changbin volleys back, unbothered by his friend’s comment. His fingers lace with yours, resting on his leg. You try not to show how affected you are, but Jisung meets your eyes and winks at you.

Chan gives you a big hug after supper, outside the restaurant. “I’d say I’d get up and say goodbye, but I don’t want to lie.”

You hug him back, chuckling. “I appreciate the honesty.” 

He squeezes your arm. “Have a safe trip. We’ll see you soon.” 

“Yeah, you will.”

Jisung hugs you this time, long arms wrapped around you. He also wishes you a safe trip and elicits a promise from you that you’ll bring Flaming Cheetos with you when you come to Korea as he really wants to try them.

It’s an easy promise to make. 

There’s no excuse or question as to whether Changbin will walk you back to your room. He follows you in the main door, both of you not speaking. When you get to your room, he covers your hand as you try to unlock the door.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” he asks, voice no more than a whisper. “I’m afraid I won’t get up to say goodbye and–”

You turn around to kiss his cheek, silencing his stammering. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

You open the door. “We’ve already shared a cabin. Might as well share a bed, right?”

He enters, a bit timidly, glancing around. “You’ve already packed?”

“I barely unpacked.” You take your backpack from him, setting it on the floor of the wardrobe. You take off your shoes, setting them next to your backpack. You reach out for him, grabbing his hoodie to yank him to you. 

“I wasn’t…I wasn’t assuming that we’d…”

“You did ask if I planned to fuck you and leave.”

He coughs a laugh, hands settling on your hips. “I did, didn’t I? I was panicking a little.”

You kiss his chin. “I’m not assuming anything either. I just want to kiss you again.”

His eyes soften and he slides his hands under your thighs, the unspoken indicator to jump into his arms. You do so, legs around his waist as he covers your mouth with his. He moves you both to the bed, laying you down carefully, leaving your lips to taste and suck down your neck. He only breaks away when you pull on his hoodie in an effort to disrobe him. His laugh is light when he pulls it off, his t-shirt clinging to him in ways that should be illegal. He takes off your layers, peeling off the sweatshirt, t-shirt, then camisole. 

He stares.

You whine a protest. “What?”

He leans down, lips at your ear. His hands slide along your side, almost tickling. 

“I like your shape.” You tremble at the puff of his breath on your ear, shiver more when he nips at the lobe. He continues, pressing kisses along your jaw line until he’s back to your mouth, urgent. Your legs fall open as he lowers himself, a sharp intake of breath when you feel him. 

“I like yours, too,” you sigh into his mouth. 

There’s a rumble of laughter. “Which shape?” He lifts his head to grin at you. “My body or my dick?”

You slap his arm, flustered. 

He rests on his forearms, dropping soft pecks on your nose, cheeks, eyelids. “Just trying to clarify here.”

“Ridiculous.”

“You aren’t answering.”

You open your eyes, now to glare at him. “Both, obviously.”

His smirk is so satisfied, you kind of want to hit him again. He sits back on his knees and starts to undo the button of your jeans.

“Okay?”

You nod. “Your shirt first, though.”

He pulls it off, and you think your mouth actually waters a little. You sit up and he groans because he can’t undo your jeans now. But you have to touch. You have to map every line and curve of his body with your hands, taking in that warmth and softness. You kiss his chest, unable not to.

“I fully support all the working out.”

He giggles before trying to usher you to lay back down. He’s mostly successful though you have to kiss him again, taste his tongue and mouth again. 

He’s single-minded, returning to your jeans and dragging them off you before doing the same on himself. You’ve sat up, legs crossed, eyes just marveling at him and every reveal of skin that you get. 

“I guess it’s kind of late, but I haven’t been with anyone in months. I’m clean.” Just clad in his boxer-briefs, he sits next to you, his hand on your thigh, drawing up and down the length of it. 

“Years,” you admit. “But yeah, clean.”

He grasps you by the chin, bringing your mouth close. “Years?”

“I’m not a sexy rapper.”

He kisses you lightly. “True.”

You punch his shoulder and he doesn’t even flinch. He’s laughing into your mouth, kissing; his other hand cupping the back of your neck. You scoot closer, knees on either side of his hips. You roll your hips the moment you sink down.

His groan is music. 

“You have protection?” You ask in between kisses. He rests his forehead on your collarbone when you repeat the motion, biting your lip so you don’t echo his groan. 

“You don’t?”

“Years,” you repeat. He lifts his head to smile at you. 

“I do.”

“See…sexy rapper, with groupies all ready to throw themselves at you.” You tousle his hair, jerking when his hand drifts under your underwear, palming your ass. 

He rolls his eyes at you, but leans over to pull his wallet out of his discarded jeans, seeking the one condom he has. He hands it to you, freeing his hand to help lower you both back to the bed. 

Underwear tossed aside, latex rolled on; there are more kisses, and explorations of each other. He pushes in so gently, with whispered compliments and soft touches. It’s a different tone and color than his performative rapping. 

Softer, quieter. Private. 

Perhaps since it’s been years, it seems to happen all too quickly. You first then him. He’s collapsed on you, his breath harsh pants. You give into your earlier fantasy and lick away a drop of sweat off his temple. His hold on you tightens. 

“We should get some sleep,” you say, playing with his hair. 

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbles into your skin. 

You smile sadly, recognizing that it’s only hours left. He rolls off of you, planting a kiss on your shoulder. His eyes are half-open, sleep oncoming.

You roll to your side, curling up next to him. “I’ll wake you.”

He turns his head, meeting your eyes. “You better.” His eyes flutter closed. “I wanted to sleep next to you that night on the train.”

“Me too.”

–

“Hello friends,” you greet the camera with a smile. “I just arrived and have made it through customs, which is way better streamlined than in the States. It was a long flight,” you nod at some passengers you pass on your way to the arrival area. “But pretty uneventful. I think I slept nearly all of it.”

You look around once you go through the automatic sliding doors. 

“I can’t believe I’m here. It’s been almost six months and–” You break off when you hear your name above all the pandemonium of the Seoul International Airport. Your camera turns with you as you try to follow that shout. 

On Youtube, the video loses focus and there are muffled voices. The shot is of a far-off baggage claim and dozens of walking legs and shoes. When the camera is righted, it frames two faces.

You’re no longer on your own.

----

(c) yoongihan 2024. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.

[thecapricunt1616]

Chicory (c.b. one-shot)

Snippet (more BTC): He tugged you by your hand back to the bedroom, kissing you deeply tugging you close by your hips and his hands traveled down your back, over your ass, squeezing and you moaned a bit, cupping his jaw and rubbing your thumb gently over the stubble that had grown since he shaved in the shower yesterday morning. He hummed softly, carefully sitting on the mattress and leading you to straddle his hips, playing gently with the hem of your panties between his fingers. 

♡ Chapter Inspo: Chicory is perfect for love spells, & sex magick, it is also a natural aphrodisiac - this being because it is a great source of the androgen hormone androstenedione. ♡ Summary: You wake up to find Carmy's dirty little book he's been hiding from you, and convince him you want to try some things out from it, too. ♡ W/C: 3.5K+ ♡ Posted Date: 05/28/2024 ♡ A/N: Hellooooo!!! Happy day 3/7 of the Capri 200 Follower Celebration Extravaganza!!! You can find said extravaganza ♡ Here ♡ this celebration will be going until next Sunday (06/02/24)! We're getting todays party started early because I am physically incapable of sleep today I guess!! Lol anywhore - This O/S is based on ♡ This ♡ request, from my Darling Dirty Olive Martini otherwise known as the goddess herself @carmenberzattosgf ! Give her a follow NEOWW!!! I hope you love my dear Martini baby! Your other request is still in the works xoxoxo ♡ Warnings for BTC: Smutty smut smut, embarrassed Carmy, unprotected sex, AFAB!Fem!Reader, Reader not described pic's are purely for vibes only, swearing, and typical TB trigger warnings

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You and Carmy had been dating for about 2 months, and it was an extraordinary two months. While he wasn’t the best at communication, he tried, and he tried very hard. He was an amazing learner, and would pick up what you put down the second he realized he made a mistake - do his best to fix it, and not make the same mistake again. In regards to the bedroom, your pleasure came first, it was like that from the beginning. It wasn’t something either of you discussed, it was more that Carmy was the one who did the leading most the time, and you followed & told him what did and didn’t feel good. 

Most of the time, he was dead set on solely your pleasure. You could remember the amount of times you’d had penetrative sex with him, as much as you hated that you kept track, it was just in your nature to do so. He hadn’t let you go down on him yet,saying that he was ‘all good by eating you out’. On top of your lack of experience together - he also liked to have the lights off most of the time. You were much more sex forward than he was, so you just chalked it up to being shy, and didn’t think anything of it.

That was until he was sleeping one night next to you, falling asleep after eating you out for a straight 2 hours, you couldn't even remember the exact number of times he made you cum. You also weren’t sure how his jaw didn’t lock up. 

The reason you had woken up at such an hour, was because your hand brushed something hard and papery under his pillow when you stuck your hand under it in search of his to hold. You carefully pulled the foreign book out, and in the dim moonlight that peeked through his navy blue blackout curtains, you read ‘BDSM Kinktionary - The ultimate guide’ and oh - had that thing been read. The spine had been very broken in, it was clear this specific book of his was well loved. 

You flick through it, to see that there were multiple pages that had been dog-eared for later use. You got up quietly as to not disturb him, padding out to the kitchen where he kept the light under his microwave on. Leaning over the counter and flicking through the pages, finding the first one that had been dogeared and reading it. 

Bondage - The restraint of a person, either by physical item (cuffs, rope, etc.) or instruction (known as mental bondage). Restraint can be full-body (vacuum beds, suspension) or involve a single body part such as the eyes (blindfold), mouth (ball gag), wrists or even thumbs. Bondage may include furniture like sex swings and devices like handcuffs. 

It had various photos of different things mentioned and you raised your brows. “Carmy have you been holding out on me?” you whispered to yourself, a small smile on your face as you flicked to the next page that had been marked by a fold and read ;

Cockwarming / Soaking - Where one person puts their cock into their partner’s mouth, ass, or vagina (if they have one), and leaves it there for a set amount of time to, well, ‘keep warm’. Some people use it as a punishment, some people just like the feeling of it, some use it as a more intimate & sexual form of spooning/cuddling, and some use it as a method of trying to conceive after a creampie (see pg. 32).

You see a little star next to the definition made with red ink likely from a pen, and the word ‘creampie’ was underlined as well. Your mouth dropping slightly - this is likely what he wants to try. When you and Carmy did have sex, he would usually cum on your stomach, long thick white ropes of seed painting all the way up to your ribs, dragging his fingers through it before putting it to your lips to which you gratefully accepted and licked them clean. You tightened your thighs a bit at the thought. 

The bedroom door popped open quietly “Babe?” Carmy said, voice gravelly and deep with sleep. You jump in surprise, nearly hitting your head on the side of the microwave as you were bent over trying to read without your glasses in such dim light. “Wha’s up-” he asked padding over. He saw the cover on the counter behind you, eyes widening and eyes flicking back to you. His cheeks go pink “Uhh.. how- how did you - shit - fuck - m-m’sorry babe it was- I-” he ran a nervous hand through his hair taking a big nervous breath.

“Cockwarming?” you said and he rubbed over his mouth and chin nervously 

“It’s - i-it’s- y’don’t have t’do any a’that babe it was just a um-”

“A fantasy?” you cut him off. He bit his bottom lip roughly, swallowing thickly. His whole face and neck were red with embarrassment, he looked honestly like he could cry. Like a teen who’s porno-mags had been discovered. “I think it sounds…really hot” you grabbed the book off the counter. “I know you don’t really like getting head so-”

“S’not that I don’t like it. I just…I haven’t done it alot an’I don’t wanna embarrass myself n’stuff.” he rubbed his arm nervously and you stepped a bit closer, gently resting your hand on his chest right over his heart. You could feel it thumping against your palm like a monarch trapped in a plastic cup. 

“You can’t embarrass yourself with me Carmy, we talked about it. The way our bodies react to things- how fast they react, it’s not something we can choose. I’d never judge you, is that why you didn’t wanna tell me the stuff you want to try? Cause you thought I’d think it was embarrassing?” you asked him softly.

He looked at the floor, shutting his eyes and sighing “yes” he admitted quietly, “how much did you see?” he asked nervously

“Enough, I didn’t even know that was like a thing? But it sounds hot- can we try? I mean..we dont have to- but I could go right now, if you want to” you asked. He held his hand on yours, gently squeezing it. 

“I’ve never done it-”

“So we can learn together then, right? Things are most fun that way, anyways. I love doing new things with you, Carmy. It makes me feel close to you” you admitted. 

He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face in your neck and holding you close. “Thank you” he muttered into your skin, the tip of his nose chilly since you two had fallen asleep with the window open last night.

“F’what baby?” you asked, rubbing over his back, your finger pads gently brushing over the little moles adorning his skin like tiny constellations you traced over in early mornings just after his alarm went off and he was still rousing for the day.

“Bein’ you” he said and kissed the fleshy bit where your shoulder met your neck and a smile graced your lips, gently petting his hair “I wanna try if you wanna try…I mean really wanna try, not just ‘cause I wanna do it, cause you actually want to” he said. 

You pulled away, tilting his head to look at you “I want to.” you said, your voice honeyed with honesty and desire. 

He tugged you by your hand back to the bedroom, kissing you deeply tugging you close by your hips and his hands traveled down your back, over your ass, squeezing and you moaned a bit, cupping his jaw and rubbing your thumb gently over the stubble that had grown since he shaved in the shower yesterday morning. He hummed softly, carefully sitting on the mattress and leading you to straddle his hips, playing gently with the hem of your panties between his fingers. 

You opened your mouth for him, gently sucking on his tongue when he slipped it in your mouth since you know how much you both liked it and he moaned softly, gripping your ass tighter and pulling at the skin. You smirked into the kiss, pulling off after a few moments with a pop 

“Want y’to touch me” you said sweetly, gently kissing the corner of his slightly parted lips, his breath coming out in soft warm pants against your cheek. 

“Mm” he hummed softly reaching one of his hands under you, gently rubbing at your clit “y’sore?” he asked softly “I wasn’t too rough earlier was I?” he questioned as you kissed down his jaw, and over the hickeys, you’d left a few days ago on his neck. He wasn’t too stressed about them because he would just tell anyone at work to fuck off and there wasn’t going to be another friends and family night for a few weeks. 

“No love, m’okay, that was so nice earlier. Made me feel sooo good, Are you ok?” you gently stroke his jaw with your hand and he smiles a bit 

“Yes babe, m’fine. Feel good?” he asked and rubbed a bit firmer, in response your hips jerked a bit in his hands and a little breathy oh escaped your throat

“Yes jus’ like that babe feels so good, I love your pretty strong hands” you lovingly kiss his temple, resting your forehead on his “I fuckin’ love it when you touch me like that, bear” you said and his cock twitches in his boxers beneath you, already hard in briefs. It never took him much, but especially when you used his name. 

That name, his nickname. The name only the closest people in his life called him, the name that coming from you - made him feel confident, strong, dominant. “Can’t fuckin’ focus when y’bein so sweet baby c’mere” he pulls his lips to yours again, pushing your panties to the side, breaking the kiss of course to ask “thas’ok right?” carefully rubbing his fingers through your slick 

“Mmhmm, Course sweet boy - Feel how wet I am? All f’you baby. Y’so sexy, and so brave for telling me what you want from me, hmm? My brave Bear” you gently play with his curls, combing through them with your fingers. He kissed you again, cock grinding up against your pelvis unintentionally. You knew how much praise turned him on, he yearned for it. He carefully pulled back your hood, brushing the rough pad his middle finger over the sensitive bud. 

You whine into his mouth, hips jerking at the sudden, intense bolt of pleasure and in retaliation you took his bottom lip between your teeth and pull gently. Your eyes then fluttered open to see his hooded blue eyes darkened with need, long eyelashes fluttering his cheeks when he blinked. 

You sucked his lip between yours, sucking gently on it as he carefully trailed his hand down your slick folds, spreading your nether lips with his fingers a sticky click being heard when that same torturous middle finger that was teasing your innocent clit a few moments prior, breached your dripping entrance. Your mouth falls open, letting his lip snap back into place and a moan tumbles from your own lips. 

“Yes- fuck yes baby” you sat back a bit to take another knuckle in and he buried his finger to the palm, curling it and uncurling it around your gummy walls, a lewd wet schlick noise coming from your pussy as he did so 

“Sound so pretty” he breathed arching his finger a bit deeper and brushing against that lovely spongey little spot that made your clit pulse and fire grow in the pit of your belly. “Want another princess?” He asked, and unable to speak, you nodded, jaw dropped. You grind down onto his hand once he added his ring finger, rolling your hips so you were essentially riding his hand as he continued rolling his fingers and pressing on that spot. 

You were feeling that heat shooting to your core, your juices leaking down his palm, and wrist, droplets racing down his veiny forearm to nestle in the crook of his elbow. “Oh- oh-fffffuuuck” you whined out, rolling your hips quicker as you chased your high. “Mm so sweet - y’so sweet Carmy- letting me use your hand like this, thank you” you give him a hot, wet kiss, lingering for a moment. 

“Lemme help you mm?” He pushed your back to lay over him fully, cheek pressed to his chest “I like takin’ care’a’my girl” he said and quickly matched your pace with his fingers, continuing to curl them into that spot with every thrust in to his palm. He groaned softly at the short high pitched little whimpers you made as you went slack over his chest, your hips twitching as your walls fluttered wildly around his fingers, sucking them back in each time he pulled out. 

“Feels so good- sososo good” you rambled, nearly drooling on his chest you were so far away in your orgasm. 

“Y’always do so good princess, always so good, can y’give me one more? Ye’? Then you can fall asleep on m’cock mm? You’d like that I bet, you always whine when I pull outta you” he said hotly in your ear, voice thick with lust and pure need. This was the game you two played, he would fuck you absolutely dumb, so that he got comfortable enough to talk dirty thinking you wouldn’t remember what he said or that you were too caught up in your own nearly atomic orgasms he was determined to lure out of you to be able to hear him properly. 

“Need it- need it- want you-“ you choke on your words, hips arching into his touch as he continued his assault on your gspot, this time adding his forefinger. “There- there right fuckin there I’m- I’m gonna make a mess shit fuck-“ you sob out, thighs nearly shaking with pleasure. “Carmy Carmy- Carmy- oh!” His name fell from your lips like an invocation. 

“Thas it pretty girl. Fuck- so fuckin hot- make a fuckin mess all over me angel.” He massaged that spot with his fingers, the heel of his palm giving delicious friction to your clit that was causing your brain and your mouth to disconnect, the string of lewd swears and filthy moans going unheard by you as you were pretty sure your vision went white behind your shut lids and your legs went fully numb for a moment. 

You came back a few minutes later to him whispering praise into your hairline, littering little kisses over it and gently brushing your wet sweaty hair from your forehead. “So so good baby. Always so good f’me huh? Y’gonna let me take care’a’you now?” 

You picked your cheek up from his chest, your skin sticking to his and pulling away like scotch tape, slow since you weren’t in a rush to move being so exhausted and very comfortable where you were. “Hey you, gonna lemme clean you up so we can try this thing out?” He carefully brushed your baby hairs from your face that were wild and curly with sweat from the encounter. 

In response you hum softly, in agreement, throat feeling dry as you sat up to let him move. He carefully reached over you, opening his night drawer and grabbing the feminine wipes he kept in there for you, as well as grabbing your water bottle from the tabletop.

He holds the straw to your lips “big sip f’me, ye’?” He cradled the back of your head gently. You leaned in, taking the sip he requested, and as soon as the icy water he assured your cup stayed filled with passed your lips one sip turned in to a few big gulps, eyes shutting in bliss. “Goood girl.” He praised gently. Hearing the bubbles at the bottom a few moments later, meaning you’d hit ice and it was empty so you pulled away, your tongue darting out to lick your dry lips

“Thanks” you said softly and pecked his shoulder with your chilly ice water lips gently. 

“You go do what you gotta do, I’m gonna fill this up mm?” He kissed your head and got up, heading to the kitchen. You went to the restroom, making sure to wash your hands which you know he did as well since you heard the kitchen sink while you were sitting on the toilet rubbing your tired face. 

By the time you got back, he was already switching out the fitted sheet for a clean dry one, in clean boxers - his problem still evident, standing tall and tugging at the fitted fabric. “Carm” you said softly and he looked up at you 

“Hey baby- y‘waters there got you a granola bar if you want it too. Wasn’t sure if y’just wanted to go to sleep but i'd love if you had a bite or two- 

” he goes on. The only time you had a hard time getting him to stop talking was when he felt as if you needed taking care of, turning into the male version of his sister, as you’d quickly found out how she treated him the few times you’d met her. 

“Carmy” you said again, stopping his rambling. “What about the book- the cockwarming thing? Did you…you don’t wanna do that with me anymore?” You slipped out of your now wet panties and flicked them into the laundry basket. 

“Oh- oh-“ he watched them fly and land on your shared pile of dirty clothes from the week of you sleeping over. “Uh- no- I-I mean yes yes I wanna do it with you, I can um…let me get a condom just in case I like- accidentally-“ you stopped him once more

“If you came inside me on accident I think that would be really hot.” 

He stopped digging through the drawer and looked over at you, cheeks flush. “Did you…take your thing?” He asked, like it was a secret. You laughed a bit at his boyish awkwardness regarding woman’s products. 

“I don’t take a thing the thing meaning my implant is in my arm. I’m never at risk with it for pregnancy, well - shouldn’t be - but it’s like a 98% thing…I also am pretty irregular? So I dunno” you shrugged a bit “but irregular means I probably won’t be pregnant, especially on birth control, so.” You explained. 

“Okay- um- yeah. Yeah.” He said, pulsepoint visible in his neck from how hard his heart was pumping in anticipation for what was to come next. “So- alright. You- you wanna be on top? I- I don’t wanna like..crush you” he said and you nod excitedly 

“I love sleeping on you! I’m gonna fall asleep, is that ok?” You asked as he slipped his boxers off, cock kissing his naval in greeting as it springs up from its previous restraints. The tip was so pretty and cherry pink, glistening with precum at the tip. Every time you saw it like this you just wanted to fall to your knees and take as much of the beautiful thick length down your throat as you could - but that was a line to still not be crossed by you two. 

“Ye’ s’fine baby. As long as y’re ok w’me wakin’ up hard as fuck I’m probably gonna dream about fuckin you feelin you like that all night” he admits, laying in the middle since you were sleeping together and getting comfortable for you. You crawled on the bed and took his shirt that you’d been wearing fully off so you could be chest to chest, and drape over him like earlier. 

This time, he spread you out with his hands, one on each cheek and guided your hips so his tip was nestled snugly against your entrance. “I’m okay as long as you’re okay” you said truthfully and sunk back on his throbbing cock. He grunted a bit, biting his lip and shutting his eyes for a moment. You knew he did that now when he didn’t want to cum too quickly, just from being with him a few times, you picked up on stuff like that just like he did. 

“Y’so fuckin tight” he breathed once he was able to relax again, wrapping his strong arms around your back and you thought he was going to push you down, seat you fully on his cock - but, no he…he’s hugging you. He’s continuing to let you sink down as slow as you want. When you finally were seated to the hilt, he places a chaste kiss to your jaw. “Thank you.” He nuzzled his nose into your neck, lashes kissing and tickling your cheek as his eyes flutter shut. 

“Thank you Bear. Always treat me so nice” you continued gently playing with his curls as his hands gently rubbed over your upper back, tracing the curvature of your shoulders with his fingers. 

“Oh I’d say it’s the other way around princess, you always make sure I get what I want - y’too good” 

To that, you just smiled, falling asleep a tiny smirk on your face - knowing it was the other way around, you knew he’d never agree. 

But you both wouldn’t have it any other way.

[maidragoste]

The Parent Trap: Chapter Two

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After the disastrous divorce between Aemond Targaryen and Y/n Velaryon the twins Baelon and Aemon were separated. Each was raised by one of their parents. Baelon was raised by his father while Aemon was raised by his mother. Years later they both meet at a summer camp and discover the existence of the other. The twins realize that there are many secrets in their family, eager to discover their past, they put together a plan to deceive their parents.

Masterlist

Thank you for your support, I was nervous that people wouldn't like it because the fic wasn't the same as the movie so I'm very happy to read all your comments. REBLOGS, comments and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕

Btw, I made two playlists for this fic. One is from Aemond and the Reader and another is from Reader and Aegon. As I keep writing I'll probably add more songs or even delete some, who knows. If you have songs for me to add or are curious to know why, you are welcome to write to me in my inbox.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Ten years earlier

Your leg kept moving up and down. Your eyes are constantly directed to the door, expecting that at any moment Aemond would return home. You tried to distract yourself by watching TV but you were too anxious. Your mind couldn't focus on the stupid movie because all you could think about was the positive sign on the pregnancy tests you had taken that afternoon with Rhaena and Jace by your side. You regretted telling them to leave. If they were with you they would be preventing you from locking yourself in your own mind. They would make you tell them your fears and they would try to calm you down. The three of them would be making plans. You might even be practicing with Jace how the hell tell Aemond they were going to be parents.

You and Aemond would be parents. You would be a mother. You always knew you would have children, you wanted the happily ever after with the wedding and children like they always showed in the movies, but now you are terrified. It wasn't supposed to be like this. You're barely twenty-three years old, you haven't even finished your second year of editorial editing. It was assumed that when you had children you would be at least over twenty-seven, your career—a career you were truly passionate about—would be finished, you would have a good job, and you would be married. You tried to console yourself by telling yourself that at least you're in a stable relationship. You and Aemond have been dating for three years. You two knew each other since you were little because your godmother is Aemond's older sister and then you ended up attending the same school so you spent a lot of time together. You still remember like it was yesterday how nervous you were when you first kissed Aemond during New Year's. You were afraid of ruining your friendship and that things would become awkward but he didn't pull away when you kissed him he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him. That night they hid from everyone and spent the rest of the celebration kissing. The next day they started dating. From there everything was wonderful. Like any couple, you and Aemond have your run-ins—like when you argued because you didn't like the way he behaved with Jace, your best friend, or when Aemond got mad at you because you made the two of you leave the restaurant you were having a date at. to pick up a drunk Aegon in a bar again—but there was definitely more joy than displeasure in your relationship with Aemond. You saw yourself having a future with him, you could see yourself perfectly next to him in your white dress. You can imagine Aemond putting a baby to sleep while he lulls it to sleep in High Valyrian. Are you sure you want a future with Aemond. But you're terrified of his reaction to this unexpected news. What would you do if Aemond didn't want to keep the baby? You would have to break up with him. Even though you were scared, you knew you wanted to keep the baby. That was clear to you.

You heard the door open and it didn't take long for your boyfriend to enter. You got up from the couch and went to hug him. Whenever he returned home you welcomed him with a hug and kisses. This time you held on to him longer than usual, wanting to remember the feeling of Aemond's arms around you in case this was the last time.

You were about to kiss him but he turned your face away from him making your heart skip a beat. Before you could move away he gently grabbed your chin and studied you carefully. Of course, he had realized something was happening to you when you were clinging so fiercely to him.

“What's wrong?” he asked. Aemond first wanted to know what was happening to you before you kissed him.

Once again you regretted kicking Rhaena and Jace out. At least you should have taken advantage of this time alone to practice in front of the mirror how to tell your boyfriend that you are pregnant. Or you could have called your parents to help you. Although knowing them they would tell you to keep the secret so that the three of them could plan a big announcement together. But you couldn't wait, you need to know now what Aemond was thinking. You needed to know whether or not he would be with you on this trip.

“Y/n?” Your boyfriend called you, feeling his concern growing with every second that you remained silent.

“I think I'm pregnant” You closed your eyes feeling frustrated with yourself and hurried to correct yourself “I mean, I'm pregnant” You tried not to panic as you felt him move away from you “I haven't had any blood tests done yet but I'm One hundred percent sure I'm pregnant. I took five pregnancy tests and they all came back positive.”Your nerves were evident because you were talking faster than normal and you couldn't stop gesturing with your hands.

Aemond felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him. This was not in his plans. Right now he was focused on opening his own publishing house, he needed to focus all of his attention on that, he didn't need a distraction and a baby would be that. Taking care of a child would take up too much time. But I couldn't tell you that. I'd be an idiot if I told you that. His mother didn't raise him to be an idiot.

“Marry me,” he said, knowing it was the right thing to do. Besides, ever since you two moved in together, he knew you were going to get married. He knows that he wants to spend the rest of his life waking up next to you, he wants your face to be the first and last thing he sees, he wants to come home and always be greeted with your kisses, he wants you to tell him about your day while the two of you have dinner, He wants to hear your theories about the TV shows you watch together. Aemond wants everything with you, even the most mundane things like going grocery shopping or walking the dogs. He loves you. The only reasons Aemond hadn't proposed to you already was because he wanted to wait until you finished college and he wanted his publishing company to be established. Planning a wedding was a big deal and you two didn't have time for that. But now it didn't matter anymore. “Marry me,” he said again with a smile as he saw how you opened your eyes and looked at him as if he were giving you the moon.

You couldn't help but laugh at yourself, feeling like an idiot for doubting Aemond. Maybe it wasn't the romantic proposal you had dreamed of but you didn't care. You were so relieved and so glad you didn't have to do this alone.

“Yes,” you responded with your heart racing and tears in your eyes. “Yes!” you repeated louder this time before throwing yourself into your fiancé's arms. You began to laugh as Aemond picked you up and spun you around. Your fears were forgotten. The only thing you felt at that moment was happiness.

Present

Aemon found it strange that when he arrived at camp Rickon was not waiting for him at the entrance like the previous years. He assumed this time that the trip had tired him too much and he went to take a nap in his cabin. So he decided to go there first instead of searching for him throughout the rest of the camp. If Rickon wasn't there at least he would leave his suitcases so he could walk comfortably.

When he entered the cabin he expected to find it empty or his best friend sleeping. He never imagined that an almost exact copy of him would be found walking back and forth all over the place. Aemon is not proud but his first reaction is to scream and throw his suitcase at him with all his might.

“Dude, what the hell?!” his copy shouted, barely managing to cum in time to avoid being hit.

“What happened?!” Rickon asked, also screaming, running out of the bathroom. “Aemon you finally arrived!” He ran to hug him.

Aemon barely moved his arms to hug Rickon but his eyes did not leave the other boy who was too similar to him. The copy of him didn't stop looking at him either, the two of them were studying each other. The only difference is that the stranger had much shorter hair than Aemon and did not have tanned skin like him. But Aemon knew that if he hadn't been sailing in the sun with his grandparents just a few days ago then he would look just like the copy of him.

"Who is he?" Aemon asked breaking the hug, no longer able to stand his curiosity. If he had encountered the copy of him years ago he would have thought that it was some kind of prank by Rickon or that maybe it was an evil clone but now he knew that it didn't make sense. The only logical explanation he could think of was that he had a missing twin but that didn't make sense because his mom would never hide something as big as this from him.

“Aemon do you need glasses? It's obvious that he's a copy of you," said the dark-haired boy, earning an angry look from the other two boys. “Don't do that, it's weird,” he complained.

“I am not Aemon's copy. In any case, he is my copy,” declared the short-haired boy.

“I met Aemon before so you are a copy of him.”

“Wait, why does he know my name?” Aemon interrupted before the other two continued fighting over who the copy was. He needed to know what was going on before he gave him a headache. Although since he saw the stranger he began to feel bad. It was disconcerting to see someone just like himself. He made him feel uncomfortable. Not even Joffrey looked that much like him, and she was his brother.

Aemon wanted to know who this boy was, why he looked so much like him, and why this was the first time he had met him. But at the same time, he was afraid. He could already sense that his life would be different after this camp. He decided to sit on the nearest bed to avoid running out and ask one of the caregivers for his cell phone to call his parents to come back to look for him. Maybe he should have let Mom walk him to the cabin like she wanted.

“Your friend thought I was you, he came up shouting your name when I was with my uncle Daeron. My uncle said that he knew you and that I should stay with Rickon until you showed up. Now I see why he insisted so much."

Aemon was sure he had heard Daeron's name before but he was sure he had never met him. Without realizing it he began to move his leg up and down trying to remember that he knew about Daeron but nothing came to mind.

“I am Baelon Targaryen,” the boy introduced himself, looking at him with concern and Aemon squeezed his leg to prevent himself from moving it further. “I think I'm your twin.”

“No,” the long-haired boy denied instantly.

“Dude, we're literally copies of each other!” Baelon said, frustration evident in his voice, pointing at Aemon and then at himself.

Rickon gave Baelon a look telling him to shut up. In the few hours that he had known him, Baelon had never seen Rickon so serious, so he crossed his arms indignantly and watched silently and attentively as Stark sat next to his twin.

“I know it seems crazy, Aemon, but I really think Baelon is right,” said the dark-haired boy, looking at his friend with concern. Rickon wouldn't know how to react either if he suddenly found out that he had a twin. “The two are copies of each other. Besides, he grew up without knowing his mom and you grew up without knowing your dad. I don't think it's a coincidence. Just like I don't think it's a coincidence that Baelon's uncle knew you."

Aemon looked at his best friend before turning his attention to his possible new brother. “When were you born?”

"June 20th. I guess just like you," said Baelon, and was satisfied when he saw that his twin nodded. "I have a photo of Mom!" He suddenly remembered the photo that he had stolen from Dad a long time ago and that he had hidden in his luggage. “You can see her and confirm that she is our mom,” he said excitedly, thinking that this way Aemon could no longer deny his relationship. He couldn't help but be excited at the thought that he was no longer alone, he had a brother. He had always seen how close his uncle Daeron was to his dad and his other uncles and he remembered wanting to have the same.

Baelon ran to grab his suitcase and began to take out all of his clothes, not caring about the mess, until he found the latest Boku no Hero manga that he was reading and triumphantly pulled out one of the pages the photo of her mother with him in her arms while she kissed his cheek, her eyes were only on him, not caring to look at the camera.

“Look,” he said, handing the photo proudly to Aemon. The photo wasn't complete, it was obvious that someone had cut it in half but Baelon didn't care. That photo was one of his most prized possessions. He looked at her every day before going to sleep because he reminded him that his mom loves him.

“Oh, shit,” Aemon muttered before handing the photo back to him.

“It's her, right?” Baelon asked, watching with anticipation as it was now Aemon who was searching for something in his suitcase. Aemon, unlike him, was not throwing his clothes everywhere. He felt his heart race when he saw how his twin took out a notebook and took something out of it.

“Is this your dad?” Aemon asked, giving him a photo. Baelon nodded several times, unable to say anything out of emotion. His dad wasn't looking at the camera but he wasn't looking at the baby he was holding either. He just looked to the side with a smile.

Baelon took both photos and placed them side by side on the bed. The photo was now complete. Dad was looking at Mom. If Baelon hadn't been so engrossed in looking at the photo then he would have noticed Aemon and Rickon exchanging glances.

“I told you we're twins!” Baelon said with a big smile once he snapped out of the shock of nudging Aemon.

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[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

tuesday, zhang hao— string ensemble

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here. ⋆˙⟡ wc: 2.8k ⋆˙⟡ reader: femme afab (listed first, she/her are used a couple times) // gender neutral (alternate version listed second, no pronouns used at all to describe reader— scroll down) ⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated. ⋆˙⟡ tuesday summary: happy tuesday, you know what that means: two straight hours of wind ensemble. and it's made even more enjoyable by first chair, zhang hao, chewing you out for every mistake you make. he's been quiet today though. it's making your skin crawl. can you manage to get out unscathed?

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. dub-con. bullying. stuck up, tattletale hao. this is a doozy. you'll be glad we took it easy monday. smut in gn and fem versions are substantially different due to logistics/circumstance. also i clearly know nothing about playing the violin so just 🤓☝️ pipe down over there, k? ily. actually would love to hear real violinists thoughts on this so hmu. ⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★☆☆ (3.5)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: foreign object and finger insertion (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), dub-con: hao doesn't have consent before sexually touching reader but reader is turned on by it, cum play, bullying.

DO NOT PUT ROSIN UP YOUR HOO HA YA DINGUS!! purely for entertainment purposes, this fic exists in a world where there aren't consequences for that okay? DON'T. I REPEAT DON'T. DO THIS IRL. okay thank you, love you.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

you take a deep breath, bouncing nervously on the balls of your feet at the south campus entrance. you’d barely gotten any sleep last night after your encounter with jiwoong, too busy tossing and turning as you pictured the dirty looks you’d be getting all over campus the next day. but as you walk across the main courtyard to the music building this afternoon, you’re surprised and elated to hear no frantic whispers in response to your presence.

had jiwoong really kept what happened yesterday a secret? you find it hard to believe he’d want to protect your reputation and mental well-being. still, the proof was in the pudding and, so far, the pudding seemed entirely unaware of who you are. just how you like it.

on tuesday afternoons, you had string ensemble in place of advanced drama. although it was a relief to have jiwoong out of sight and out of mind, there was another force at play to deal with.

as you enter the orchestra room, you spot that force immediately— already seated and delicately coating the hairs of his bow with the lifetime supply of premium rosin he’d won for first place violinist at the chinese international music competition three years ago. you know this fact because he never lets you forget it.

with your violin case in your hand, you make your way to your seat: second chair, of course. first chair is eternally occupied by your conductor’s most favorite student.

you sit down in your black music chair, smoothing your skirt so that it doesn’t ride up while you play. opening your violin case, you carefully pull out your instrument and begin quietly tuning it as the rest of the string ensemble files in. you place your bow to the strings, playing a note to assess the sound. the note comes out airy and weak and it makes you inherently wince. 

“fucking fix that right now,” a familiar voice to your left suddenly demands. “i won’t ask again.”

your left eyebrow peaks in confusion as you mumble, “you didn’t ask a first time.”

he doesn’t even look at you. and though you already intended to fix the problem without his prompting, you place your violin back in its case and start to fish around in the velvet compartments for some rosin. when you come up empty, you start to panic.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor ahn greets, tapping her conductor’s baton on the frame of her metal music stand. “we have a lot to get to today, so let’s just jump right in.”

shit. you really need rosin.

but there’s no way you can raise your hand and disrupt professor ahn’s flow. she already thinks you’re a second-rate violinist that “hides her lack of talent behind incessant practice”. this was a direct quote you’d received on your evaluation sheet last semester. besides, all professor ahn would probably say was that you should’ve made sure your bow was up to par before you even got to campus.

you couldn’t argue with that. it was the truth. but your little incident with jiwoong had preoccupied you and suddenly every perfectionist task you routinely performed seemed... obsolete. how could you let him get to you like this?

and why did it still feel so good?

professor ahn taps her baton again, signaling for everyone to turn to the first page of your spring concert repertoire. you swallow nervously, opening your sheet music booklet to tippett’s fantasia concertante on a theme of corelli. it’s an extremely difficult piece that an outstanding violinist struggles to play on a good day. and you would be playing it with your bow in a noticeably poor condition. 

you stumble through the piece as quietly as possible, cringing when the sound your instrument produces is less than satisfactory. though your ensemble is still learning the song, others’ mistakes aren’t enough to hide the strange performance coming from the second-chair violinist.

“zhang hao-sshi,” professor ahn suddenly calls. the boy to your left looks up at her in attention, causing your heart to sink to your stomach. “who is responsible for that unsatisfactory sound?”

you were foolish to think you could escape what inevitably always happened during string ensemble: the second of your five jerk-off bullies ratting you out in front of the whole orchestra.

there was a reason professor ahn held such distaste for you and your craft and that reason was zhang hao. each and every rehearsal, your professor would ask the first chair to list any mistakes he’d heard from your section and he apparently only ever noticed yours. you’d sit there, cheeks heating up with embarrassment as hao described every error you made in great detail that day— professor ahn taking note and deducting points from your rehearsal grade as she saw fit.

hao had seemingly made it his mission to single handedly make you quit violin in a sea of unbearable shame.

so you’re shocked when all hao replies is, “i apologize, professor ahn. i was too engrossed in playing to notice where the error was coming from.”

what the fuck? why would he lie? it couldn’t be to help you. hao would throw you to the wolves without a second thought if it meant remaining superior to you.

but his gaze returns to his sheet music, pencil floating across the paper as he quietly adds annotations. you’re honestly freaked out. had he hit his head? had the difficulty of the piece actually thrown him that much?

rehearsal ends shortly thereafter and you stay in your chair, silently tending to your violin next to hao. you’re both usually the last to leave, but hao always makes it a point to stay just a few seconds longer than you. just to prove something.

after your instrument is safely back in its case, you stand up and make your way over to the instrument storage closet. you find your cubby, pulling out your key and unlocking your unit so you can leave your violin there for the remainder of your classes this afternoon. 

as you place your violin case gently inside and lock your cubby, the unexpected sound of footsteps behind you makes you freeze in place. slowly, you turn around to find hao standing in the doorway of the storage closet.

weird. hao would never undermine his unparalleled musicianship by keeping his violin in a public storage unit. he sets his case down next to him, crossing his arms and leaning on the left side of the door frame.

“i’m waiting,” is all he says, brow raised expectantly. 

you look to your left and right, trying to discern what it is hao could be waiting for. you can’t find anything of note. “um... for what?”

“what do you mean, for what?” hao spits, eyes narrowing angrily. “i didn’t tell professor ahn about any of the mistakes you made today. and i don’t know if you noticed, but you made a fuck ton.”

and the shoe drops, you think.

“did you not even notice my act of kindness?” he asks indignantly. “don’t you think i at least deserve a thank you?”

“oh,” you reply, tilting your head in surprise. you swallow the urge to tell him that kindness in demand of a thank you is not exactly kindness and instead, just nod. “yeah. thank you. i guess.”

it must be some weird power play over you. it’s probably best to make a swift exit and not give him the attention he wants, so you turn on your heel and start to walk toward the door to leave. but as you approach the exit, hao reaches across the door frame— your chest colliding directly with his forearm as he blocks you in.

“c-... can i get through? i have to be in calc iii in fifteen minutes,” you ask with a frown.

hao’s arm stays glued to the other side of the door as he continues to stare at you. “i want a better thank you.”

“you—... why?” you question, brow furrowing in confusion. “i already said thank you. and i didn’t even ask you to lie for me in the first place.”

hao blinks at you. “so you’re not grateful?”

“honestly, you’re kind of making me uncomfortable,” you reply, ducking under his arm and walking back out into the orchestra room. “so if my lack of gratitude means you’re going to go back to humiliating me in front of the entire string ensemble every day... i guess i’ll just have to continue living with it.”

you make it halfway out of the rehearsal room when you hear a faint: “wait.”

you turn around to find a slightly panicked hao still standing in the doorframe of the storage closet. 

“you need rosin, right? you ran out?” he asks, as if he couldn’t tell exactly what your problem had been from hearing you play today. “i’ll give you some of mine.”

clearly you’ve just hallucinated. you’re so stressed from yesterday’s events that you’ve started hearing things. or maybe you’re still asleep in your bed at home. or maybe you’re dead. because there’s no way hao would ever give you his beloved rosin.

“let me just get it out of my case,” he says, bending down to the ground and opening up his very expensive violin case. you walk over to him slowly, partly because you don’t believe him and partly because you’re starting to worry something is terribly wrong with him.

“hao, are... are you feeling okay?” you ask, stepping back into the storage closet and watching as he pulls out a fresh cake of premium rosin. it’s a box-shape with rounded edges and no plastic holder, the golden-brown hardened sap shining beautifully even in the dim light of the storage closet.

he stands back up, holding the rosin between his fingers delicately. “never better.”

“you’re—... you’re gonna give me your cimc prize rosin?” you ask, incredibly confused. “why would you do that?”

“because you need it. don’t you?” he answers with a shrug.

“but... but—.” you protest, head spinning a million miles a minute trying to make sense of hao’s bizarre and uncharacteristic display of benevolence. “what’s the catch?”

with no discernible inflection, hao repeats, “the catch.”

“i don’t see why you’d give this to me without a price,” you elaborate skeptically. “you don’t like me. you’re actively mean to me actually. it doesn’t make sense that you’d give me something you value without asking for anything in return. i mean, you couldn’t even randomly choose to cover for me during rehearsal without demanding a thank you after.”

hao considers this for a moment and then nods. “well, what if i ask for the same thing then? in exchange for this rosin, i want a thank you.”

“i can’t even begin to figure out what’s gotten into you today,” you respond with a reluctant sigh, “but fine. i guess i can agree to your terms.”

“we have a deal,” hao affirms with a stupid, perfect smirk. he closes the gap between you, holding out the rosin in his palm. when you try to take it from him, he retracts his hand. “i’ll take the thank you first actually.”

“sure,” you agree, rolling your eyes. “thank you.”

he tilts his head to the side, prompting, “what was that?”

“thank you, hao. i really appreciate you giving me your rosin,” you feed flatly, hoping you’ve finally appeased him.

“an improvement,” he says before shaking his head again. “but i’m still not loving the tone coming out of you... i think you could use some rosin.”

“what do you—” you start to ask, but it’s already too late. without any time to spare, the door is shut behind you and a sudden draft hits your heat as your panties are shoved to the side beneath your skirt. the air leaves your lungs as long, thin fingers dip through your folds and squeeze something cold and smooth inside of you.

“there you go,” hao smiles, incredibly satisfied with the stunt he’s just pulled. “i think that might help your tone.”

“y-you... did you...” you stammer as you gawk at the boy in front of you. your cheeks are beet red at the violation of your sex. you’re in such shock that all you can whisper is, “you can’t put that in... there.”

“an instrument should be well cared for,” he challenges, sinking to his knees and running his hands up and down your bare thighs. “gonna make you sound so pretty.”

there’s a flutter in your core that you desperately want to silence. you could not be turned on by this. one of the men you hate most in this world just shoved a foreign object up you without asking. so why is the hungry look in his eyes as he backs you against the wall of storage units exciting you?

hao hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. you step out of them without a word. he lifts your right leg over his shoulder, bringing your cunt closer to his face as he holds your hips steady.

he licks a stripe starting just above your opening to your clit as if he wants to taste every inch of you. the sensation makes you gasp and then immediately cover your mouth in shame. were you really enjoying this?

“hm, still an airy sound,” hao observes, eyes locked on your center as his fingers grip into your hips. “definitely needs more rosin.”

he dives back in, lapping at your cunt— tongue flicking your bundle of nerves as your arousal builds. you must’ve fallen into an alternate dimension. fainted. been in a terrible bus accident on your way to campus. but why you’d dream of hao’s head between your thighs in a storage closet is beyond your comprehension.

the more he works you with his mouth, the more hums and sighs escape your lips but all of your worries aren’t eased just yet.

“it’s... it’s gonna melt,” you say softly, starting to feel a bit dizzy. “the r-ros—.”

“rosin starts to crumble from heat at 50 degrees celsius,” hao interjects in between sloppy traces of his tongue. “the average internal temperature of a vagina is 37.5 degrees.”

“but—”

“don’t act like you don’t know how numbers work. aren’t you in calc iii?” hao ridicules, biting gently at your clit. you throw your head back at the sensation as he increases the pressure of his tongue against you. “are you just a fraud in every subject you take?”

“hao,” you beg, his slander just adding to the pleasure you’re feeling as your right hand tangles up in his hair— tugging from the root. “feels so good. so, so good.”

“fuck, that’s beautiful baby,” hao pants, right hand detaching from your hip. he parts your entrance with his fingers, the cake of rosin slipping out into his palm with a crude, wet smack. you both stare at the golden brown block, still perfectly intact but now dripping in your arousal. he drags it down the inside of your thighs, mesmerized by the trail of glistening honey it leaves on your skin. “mm, coated perfectly now.”

he drops the rosin on the floor next to you, replacing the empty space in your pussy with his ring and middle fingers. you gasp at the stretch, clenching involuntarily around him.

“i think you’re ready to play,” hao decides, curling his fingers up inside of you against your front wall and pressing on your clit with his thumb. he watches you intently, mouth open slightly as he drinks in the sight of you writhing in pleasure. “c’mon, baby. let me hear you.”

you do as he says, moaning as the pads of his fingers press into your sweet spot again. with every rhythmic stroke, your sounds grow less inhibited and hao grows more entranced. he’s making the face he usually makes while playing his violin— focused, impassioned, and devastatingly sexy. 

was hao enjoying playing you as much as he enjoyed playing his other instrument?

“gon—... gonna make me cum,” you whine after another minute, the look in hao’s eyes turning feral. he immediately returns his mouth to your cunt, sucking at your sensitive bud with a renewed vigor.

as hao brings you closer to the brink of orgasm, your moans only grow louder and sweeter like a crescendo. the harmonic sounds coming out of you are intensified by an increase in the pace of his finger-fucking. it’s all too much for you to handle, your walls spasming around him uncontrollably.

“oh my god, hao—,” you cry, your climax crashing over you like the perfect wave. “c-cumming... i—...”

you can barely hold yourself up, clinging to the shelves on either side of you as hao works you through your high. your breathing returning to normal, he looks up at you as he pulls his fingers out of your pussy— lips pink and glistening with your juices. 

he removes your right leg from around his shoulder, eyes locked with yours as he stands up and brushes the dust off his knees. 

“th-thank... you,” is what comes out of you as you stare at him, dumbfounded. “thank you.”

“yeah, sure,” hao replies dismissively. after making such a big deal about a thank you, it figures he’d pretend he never cared in the first place. “clean off that rosin and use it next week or i’ll tell professor ahn you stole it from me.”

“oh. okay,” you quietly agree, unable to control the awkward energy that’s now tying your tongue. “um. thanks... again.”

he just shrugs, walking over to the door and picking up his violin case. unlocking the door and pushing it open, he takes a few steps out the door before suddenly stopping in his tracks. he turns over his shoulder to look at you. “i almost forgot to ask...”

you gulp at the sight of the upturned corner of his lip in a smug grin.

“... was it better than jiwoong hyung?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

gender neutral version below

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: hand/oral (reader receiving), throat fucking with fingers (reader receiving), dubcon: hao does not have consent before inserting fingers into reader's mouth, reader is turned on by this, cum play, bullying.

IF YOU WANT TO COVER YOUR ROSIN IN CUM, YOU CAN I'M NOT THE BOSS OF YOU but from everything i've read in research for this fic, it will ruin it so maybe don't. up to you tho, babe. love you.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

you take a deep breath, bouncing nervously on the balls of your feet at the south campus entrance. you’d barely gotten any sleep last night after your encounter with jiwoong, too busy tossing and turning as you pictured the dirty looks you’d be getting all over campus the next day. but as you walk across the main courtyard to the music building this afternoon, you’re surprised and elated to hear no frantic whispers in response to your presence.

had jiwoong really kept what happened yesterday a secret? you find it hard to believe he’d want to protect your reputation and mental well-being. still, the proof was in the pudding and, so far, the pudding seemed entirely unaware of who you are. just how you like it.

on tuesday afternoons, you had string ensemble in place of advanced drama. although it was a relief to have jiwoong out of sight and out of mind, there was another force at play to deal with.

as you enter the orchestra room, you spot that force immediately— already seated and delicately coating the hairs of his bow with the lifetime supply of premium rosin he’d won for first place violinist at the chinese international music competition three years ago. you know this fact because he never lets you forget it.

with your violin case in your hand, you make your way to your seat: second chair, of course. first chair is eternally occupied by your conductor’s most favorite student.

you sit down in your black chair, propping your sheet music booklet up onto your music stand. opening your violin case, you carefully pull out your instrument and begin quietly tuning it as the rest of the string ensemble files in. you place your bow to the strings, playing a note to assess the sound. the note comes out airy and weak and it makes you inherently wince. 

“fucking fix that right now,” a familiar voice to your left suddenly demands. “i won’t ask again.”

your left eyebrow peaks in confusion as you mumble, “you didn’t ask a first time.”

he doesn’t even look at you. and though you already intended to fix the problem without his prompting, you place your violin back in its case and start to fish around in the velvet compartments for some rosin. when you come up empty, you start to panic.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor ahn greets, tapping her conductor’s baton on the frame of her metal music stand. “we have a lot to get to today, so let’s just jump right in.”

shit. you really need rosin.

but there’s no way you can raise your hand and disrupt professor ahn’s flow. she already thinks you’re a second-rate violinist that “hides your lack of talent behind incessant practice”. this was a direct quote you’d received on your evaluation sheet last semester. besides, all professor ahn would probably say was that you should’ve made sure your bow was up to par before you even got to campus.

you couldn’t argue with that. it was the truth. but your little incident with jiwoong had preoccupied you and suddenly every perfectionist task you routinely performed seemed... obsolete. how could you let him get to you like this?

and why did it still feel so good?

professor ahn taps her baton again, signaling for everyone to turn to the first page of your spring concert repertoire. you swallow nervously, opening your sheet music booklet to tippett’s fantasia concertante on a theme of corelli. it’s an extremely difficult piece that an outstanding violinist struggles to play on a good day. and you would be playing it with your bow in a noticeably poor condition.

you stumble through the piece as quietly as possible, cringing when the sound your instrument produces is less than satisfactory. though your ensemble is still learning the song, others’ mistakes aren’t enough to hide the strange performance coming from the second-chair violinist.

“zhang hao-sshi,” professor ahn suddenly calls. the boy to your left looks up at her in attention, causing your heart to sink to your stomach. “who is responsible for that unsatisfactory sound?”

you were foolish to think you could escape what inevitably always happens during string ensemble: the second of your five jerk-off bullies ratting you out in front of the whole orchestra.

there was a reason professor ahn held such distaste for you and your craft and that reason was zhang hao. each and every rehearsal, your professor would ask the first chair to list any mistakes he’d heard from your section and he apparently only ever noticed yours. you’d sit there, cheeks heating up with embarrassment as hao described every error you made in great detail that day— professor ahn taking note and deducting points from your rehearsal grade as she saw fit.

hao had seemingly made it his mission to single handedly make you quit violin in a sea of unbearable shame.

so you’re shocked when all hao replies is, “i apologize, professor ahn. i was too engrossed in playing to notice where the error was coming from.”

what the fuck? why would he lie? it couldn’t be to help you. hao would throw you to the wolves without a second thought if it meant remaining superior to you.

but his gaze returns to his sheet music, pencil floating across the paper as he quietly adds annotations. you’re honestly freaked out. had he hit his head? had the difficulty of the piece actually thrown him that much?

rehearsal ends shortly thereafter and you stay in your chair, silently tending to your violin next to hao. you’re both usually the last to leave, but hao always makes it a point to stay just a few seconds longer than you. just to prove something.

after your instrument is safely back in its case, you stand up and make your way over to the instrument storage closet. you find your cubby, pulling out your key and unlocking your unit so you can leave your violin there for the remainder of your classes this afternoon. 

as you place your violin case gently inside and lock your cubby, the unexpected sound of footsteps behind you makes you freeze in place. slowly, you turn around to find hao standing in the doorway of the storage closet.

weird. hao would never undermine his unparalleled musicianship by keeping his violin in a public storage unit. he sets his case down next to him, crossing his arms and leaning on the left side of the door frame.

“i’m waiting,” is all he says, brow raised expectantly. 

you look to your left and right, trying to discern what it is hao could be waiting for. you can’t find anything of note. “um... for what?”

“what do you mean, for what?” hao spits, eyes narrowing angrily. “i didn’t tell professor ahn about any of the mistakes you made today. and i don’t know if you noticed, but you made a fuck ton.”

and the shoe drops, you think.

“did you not even notice my act of kindness?” he asks indignantly. “don’t you think i at least deserve a thank you?”

“oh,” you reply, tilting your head in surprise. you swallow the urge to tell him that kindness in demand of a thank you is not exactly kindness and instead, just nod. “yeah. thank you. i guess.”

it must be some weird, new power play over you. it’s probably best to make a swift exit and not give him the attention he wants, so you turn on your heel and start to walk toward the door to leave. but as you approach the exit, hao reaches across the door frame— your chest colliding directly with his forearm as he blocks you in.

“c-... can i get through? i have to be in calc iii in fifteen minutes,” you ask with a frown.

hao’s arm stays glued to the other side of the door as he continues to stare at you. “i want a better thank you.”

“you—... why?” you question, brow furrowing in confusion. “i already said thank you. and i didn’t even ask you to lie for me in the first place.”

hao blinks at you. “so you’re not grateful?”

“honestly, you’re kind of making me uncomfortable,” you reply, ducking under his arm and walking back out into the orchestra room. “so if my lack of gratitude means you’re going to go back to humiliating me in front of the entire string ensemble every day... i guess i’ll just have to continue living with it.”

you make it halfway out of the rehearsal room when you hear a faint: “wait.”

you turn around to find a slightly panicked hao still standing in the doorframe of the storage closet. 

“you need rosin, right? you ran out?” he asks, as if he couldn’t tell exactly what your problem had been from hearing you play today. “i’ll give you some of mine.”

clearly you’ve just hallucinated. you’re so stressed from yesterday’s events that you’ve started hearing things. or maybe you’re still asleep in your bed at home. or maybe you’re dead. because there’s no way hao would ever give you his beloved rosin.

“let me just get it out of my case,” he says, bending down to the ground and opening up his very expensive violin case. you walk over to him slowly, partly because you don’t believe him and partly because you’re starting to worry something is terribly wrong with him.

“hao, are... are you feeling okay?” you ask, stepping back into the storage closet and watching as he pulls out a fresh cake of premium rosin. it’s a box-shape with rounded edges and no plastic holder, the golden-brown hardened sap shining beautifully even in the dim light of the storage closet.

he stands back up, holding the rosin between his fingers delicately. “never better.”

“you’re—... you’re gonna give me your cimc prize rosin?” you ask, incredibly confused. “why would you do that?”

“because you need it. don’t you?” he answers with a shrug.

“but... but—.” you protest, head spinning a million miles a minute trying to make sense of hao’s bizarre and uncharacteristic display of benevolence. “what’s the catch?”

with no discernible inflection, hao repeats, “the catch.”

“i don’t see why you’d give this to me without a price,” you elaborate skeptically. “you don’t like me. you’re actively mean to me actually. it doesn’t make sense that you’d give me something you value without asking for anything in return. i mean, you couldn’t even randomly choose to cover for me during rehearsal without demanding a thank you after.”

hao considers this for a moment and then nods. “well, what if i ask for the same thing then? in exchange for this rosin, i want a thank you.”

“i can’t even begin to figure out what’s gotten into you today,” you respond with a reluctant sigh, “but fine. i guess i can agree to your terms.”

“we have a deal,” hao affirms with a stupid, perfect smirk. he closes the gap between you, holding out the rosin in his palm. when you try to take it from him, he retracts his hand. “i’ll take the thank you first actually.”

“sure,” you agree with a sigh, rolling your eyes. “thank you.”

he tilts his head to the side, prompting, “what was that?”

“thank you, hao. i really appreciate you giving me your rosin,” you feed flatly, hoping you’ve finally appeased him.

“an improvement,” he says before shaking his head again. “but i’m still not loving the tone coming out of you... maybe your bow needs some rosin.”

“you already know it does! what are you even talking—,” you start to ask, but it’s already too late. without any time to spare, the door is shut behind you and two long, thin fingers are pushed inside of your mouth. 

“there you go,” hao smiles, incredibly satisfied with the stunt he’s just pulled. “a thorough coat to get that perfect sound.”

he cups your jaw with his free hand as he shoves his fingers further into your mouth. you gag slightly as he approaches the back of your throat, your cheeks turning beet red at the violation of your body. 

“an instrument should be well cared for,” hao says as he removes his fingers from your lips, unbuttoning your jeans as he guides you to sit down in a black music chair. “gonna make you sound so pretty.”

there’s a flutter in your core that you desperately want to silence. you could not be turned on by this. one of the men you hate most in this world just shoved his fingers down your throat without asking. so why is the hungry look in his eyes as he sinks down between your legs exciting you?

hao hooks his fingers around the waistband of your jeans, tugging at them until you finally lift your hips up wordlessly. he discards your underwear next, chuckling sardonically at your continued state of silence.

his lubricated fingers ghost over you, leaving a trail of your own saliva up and down your sex. the sensation makes you gasp and then immediately cover your mouth in shame. were you really enjoying this?

“hm, still an airy sound,” hao observes, eyes locked on your center as his free hand grips your thigh— fingers digging into the soft flesh. “definitely needs more rosin.”

hao pulls your hips closer to him, taking you into his mouth— swirling and sucking at your heat with his tongue. you must’ve fallen into another dimension. fainted. been in a terrible bus accident on your way to campus. but why you’d dream of hao’s head between your thighs in a storage closet is beyond your comprehension.

the more he works you with his mouth, the more hums and sighs escape your lips.

“hao,” you beg, pleasure building as your right hand tangles up in his hair— tugging from the root. “feels so good. so, so good.”

“fuck, that’s beautiful baby,” hao pants, right hand detaching from your hip. “maybe you can even learn something from how i’m playing you. everyone would appreciate that, huh?”

the patronizing insult makes you throb, another whimper falling out of you. he watches you intently, mouth open slightly as he drinks in the sight of you writhing in pleasure. “c’mon, baby. let me hear you.”

with every rhythmic stroke, your sounds grow less inhibited and hao grows more entranced. he’s making the face he usually makes while playing his violin— focused, impassioned, and devastatingly sexy. 

was hao enjoying playing you as much as he enjoyed playing his other instrument?

“gon—... gonna make me cum,” you whine after another minute, the look in hao’s eyes turning feral. he immediately returns his mouth to you, sucking at your most sensitive part with a renewed vigor.

as hao brings you closer to the brink of orgasm, your moans only grow louder and sweeter like a crescendo. the harmonic sounds coming out of you are intensified by an increase in the pace of hand. it’s all too much for you to handle, your core beginning to spasm.

“oh my god, hao—,” you cry, your climax crashing over you like the perfect wave. “c-cumming... i—...”

hao pulls out the cake of rosin from his back pocket as he works you through your high, bringing it between your legs and covering it in your release. your breathing slowly returning to normal,he runs the sticky rosin down each of your inner thighs. 

“it’s... it’s gonna melt,” you say softly, both hypnotized and concerned. “the r-ros—.”

“rosin starts to crumble from heat at 50 degrees celsius,” hao interjects as he coats the rosin in more of your fluids. “your body temperature is 37 degrees.”

“but—.”

“don’t act like you don’t know how numbers work. aren’t you in calc iii?” hao baits, licking up the last remnants of your orgasm for himself. “are you just a fraud in every subject you take?”

his eyes lock with yours as he stands up and brushes the dust off his knees. 

“th-thank... you,” is what comes out of you as you stare up at him, dumbfounded. “thank you.”

“yeah, sure,” hao replies dismissively. after making such a big deal about a thank you, it figures he’d pretend he never cared in the first place. “clean off that rosin and use it next week or i’ll tell professor ahn you stole it from me.”

“oh. okay,” you quietly agree, unable to control the awkward energy that’s now tying your tongue. “um. thanks... again.”

he just shrugs, walking over to the door and picking up his violin case. unlocking the door and pushing it open, he takes a few steps out the door before suddenly stopping in his tracks. he turns over his shoulder to look at you. “i almost forgot to ask...”

you gulp at the sight of the upturned corner of his lip in a smug grin.

“... was it better than jiwoong hyung?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

[roseofdarknessblog]

Little miracle (Postwar!Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Word count: 2 674

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Summary: Three years after the Rumbling, you and Levi finally get the chance to grow your little family.

This story can be read on its own or as a part of my little post-war series: Learn to live again

Little miracle

Sitting on a little stack of wooden crates, you were watching as your husband gave out sweets to all the kids in the refugee camp. The happiness on their cute little faces made your heart melt over and over again. And even though you couldn't see Levi's face, it was more than obvious that he enjoyed doing this. After all, he always had a soft spot for kids, since the very first day when you got to know him back in the Underground.

„Not feeling up to anything?“ Yelena asked, when she walked past you, carrying a crate with a couple of toys in her hands. They were from a toy store, that was right next to your and Levi's tea shop back home. „I don't see you helping us at all today.“

„Yeah, sorry. I'm not feeling my best,“ you said to her, running a hand through your hair. „I just didn't want Levi to come alone.“

She rolled her eyes at you with a small smirk on her lips. „Always looking out for each other no matter what.“

„That's what married couples do,“ you reminded her with a chuckle, proudly showing off your wedding band. „No, look... I'm sorry I'm so useless today. I don't know what's wrong.“

You lied.

For a few days now, you knew what was wrong and what was making you feel sick every single day. Or rather who was making you feel like this – the baby, that was growing inside your womb. The baby only you and Falco knew about. You didn't tell him but when he randomly found you throwing up three days in a row, while he and Gabi were helping you out in the tea shop, he put two and two together.

It was truly a miracle, that you were able to keep your pregnancy hidden from Levi. Or maybe if he suspected something, he was waiting for you to tell him. Not that you were afraid to tell him, you just didn't know how to do it. It was something very special and you wanted Levi to remember such an important day in the best way possible.

„Are you sure everything is okay?“ Yelena asked, her big eyes observing you closely.

You nodded, putting on your best smile. „I'm okay, just didn't get much sleep last night.“

„Oh, the Captain kept you up?“ she teased you, looking over at Levi for a moment.

„Even if he did, it's none of your business,“ you tried brushing her off and got to your feet, adjusting your skirt. „I'll go help you, okay?“ Leaning down, you picked up one of the crates and followed her. When you walked past Levi, you flashed him a loving smile, reassuring him that everything was perfectly fine.

It was... until you found yourself behind one of the tents half an hour later, bent over and puking your guts out. The so-called morning sickness was bothering you more and more every day. On top of that, you felt extremely tired and dizzy almost constantly. Just yesterday, you almost fell over in the tea shop, when you got lightheaded while returning from the kitchen in the back. Fortunately, Levi didn't see anything. He was too busy talking to one of the customers.

Sighing, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to catch your breath once again. Only then you noticed two of the kids staring at you, one of them eating a lollipop he got from your husband. You gave them both the sweetest smile possible at that moment and walked away as if nothing happened. After you had some water you found Yelena with Onyankopon again, and joined them, taking care of everything important for the next hour or so.

„Hey, are you holding up okay?“ Levi asked as soon as you were done talking to two little girls, who stopped you to tell you how much they liked your skirt. „You didn't look too good this morning, I just didn't want to argue.“

„I'm fine, yeah. The weather is really nice today, isn't it?“ you asked with a smile, trying to hide the once again growing nausea. „It's good that we came here. The kids looked happy and that's what matters the most.“

The day was really nice, the sun was shining and summer was just around the corner. Even if summer wasn't your favorite season, you loved the warm weather since it always helped Levi with his chronic pain. Meanwhile, the cold usually made him feel much worse, mainly when it came to his left knee.

„It was nice but I can't wait to be back home,“ he sighed quietly. „Are we going to open the tea shop for at least a couple of hours?“

„I don't think anything catastrophic is going to happen, if we stay closed today,“ you said and came closer, reaching for one of his hands. Since nobody was really around, Levi didn't hesitate – he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and pulled you closer to him, making you sit on his lap. „We'll have a nice romantic evening. No work, only love.“

He smirked, resting his back a little better in his wheelchair. Three years after the Rumbling and he still needed to use it daily. When he felt good enough to do it, he was able to walk short distances. Mainly around the tea shop. But for the most time, he wasn't able to rely on his injured knee – not even after multiple surgeries or rounds of physical therapy.

But as years passed by, Levi's outlook on his life started to change. From hating the way his body changed, to slowly accepting the new life he and you got the chance to live. It took a lot of time, energy, and tears, but after three years, both of you were finally feeling... good, content, and satisfied. Everything was like it was supposed to be. As painful as it was, the lives of your fallen friends brought you a safe and bright future.

„What's going on with you?“ Levi asked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You shrugged and brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead. „What do you mean? I'm fine.“

„You're not.“

With a smirk, you kissed his forehead. Keeping anything from him wasn't even a little bit easy. And maybe it was truly unnecessary. Making a big fuss of this whole thing. This time of your life was supposed to be the most beautiful, not full of stress about every little thing. You wanted to truly enjoy this time – something you never thought you would be able to experience.

Having kids was off the table while you and Levi were in the Survey Corps. Years back, you had a pregnancy scare, but it all turned out well, fortunately. Since then, the two of you didn't seriously talk about having children. Not really even after the Rumbling. With Levi's health issues and all the major changes in your life, there was simply no energy left to think about starting a family.

Despite that, you agreed that you're not going to try to prevent a pregnancy. If it happened, you would simply have a child together. However, months and then years went by without you getting pregnant. Not even once did you suspect anything. So when this little miracle happened, the two of you weren't really trying for a baby. But it looked like fate knew what your marriage was missing.

„Are you going to tell me or should I ask?“ he raised his brows, giving you probably the last chance to say what was on your mind.

„I guess you already know,“ you sighed, resting your head on top of his. The sun was brightly shining down on the refugee camp all around you, the light wind making the hot air a little bit more bearable. „Don't you?“

„I have my suspicions, yes,“ he nodded, gently caressing your side. You were feeling more and more nervous as each second passed, suddenly not being sure how he was going to react. „Your period always makes you pretty damn sick for the first two or three days, each and every month. And it's been around seven weeks since I last saw you in such a state,“ he said in a calm tone, not wanting to make you even more anxious about the whole situation.

„I wanted to tell you, just didn't know how. It's such an important moment in our lives and I wanted to make it special for you.“

„So I'm right? We're expecting a baby?“ he asked directly, not giving you another chance to change the topic of the conversation. „I'm going to be a father?“

„If everything goes well...“ you shrugged, giving him a hopeful smile. „Then yes, you're going to be a father in a couple of months.“ It was hard to tell what Levi was thinking or feeling at that very moment. His expression was almost impossible to read. His good eye was fixed on your face, his lips pressed into a thin line. „I'm not sure how it happened after so much time. To be honest, I stopped thinking that we would ever have kids. After more than three years...“ You shook your head, a smile making its way onto your lips.

„Guess it simply wasn't the right time until now. And our bodies knew it,“ Levi said, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. „How long did you know?“

You opened your mouth to speak, but suddenly Onyankopon showed up, calling on the two of you. He seemed a little shocked at first when he saw you sitting on Levi's lap, but he quickly managed a smile. It was apparently time to say goodbye to the people in the camp and return home. This wasn't your first time doing something like this, but leaving never got easier. You wanted to help these people much more, mainly to all the kids running around.

In a way, they reminded you of all the kids from the Underground back on Paradis. Since you grew up there as well, you sometimes wondered what happened to that place and to all the people living there. Did they finally have a better life? After the Walls were torn down, when the Titans inside them started moving at the beginning of the Rumbling, you were sure many things changed.

While Armin and the others went back there for peace talks with Queen Historia, you and Levi stayed behind. It was... better, in a way. Leaving all the political work to the younger generation. Maybe it sounded selfish to some, but you simply had no need to get involved with the new military regime on Paradis. Their problems were no longer yours.

Not after everything that happened during and after the Rumbling.

Not after being called traitors just because you decided to kill Eren and stop the madness he unleashed upon the world.

It was already late evening when you came back home. After dinner with Onyankopon and Yelena, you finally closed the door of your little ground-floor apartment, sighing exhaustedly.

„Finally...“ you said and sat down on the little stool by the door. Being on your feet throughout most parts of the day made you as tired as ODM gear training used to be back in the day. And you had only your pregnancy to blame. „I'm so tired.“

„It was a long day,“ Levi said and wheeled himself a bit closer to take your hands in his. „And we still have an important talk to finish.“

You nodded, interlocking your fingers. Being so tired suddenly left no room for feelings of anxiety or nervousness. You knew this moment was coming, it was inevitable to have this talk about your future. And the sooner it happened the better. You kept stealing glances at him during dinner, but his expression didn't show anything. Your friends had no way of knowing something was going on.

„Are you mad that I didn't tell you earlier?“ you asked Levi, looking at him in the dim light of the little entryway. The scars on his face healed more than nicely throughout the years. Now they were barely visible. Or they maybe seemed like that because Levi's face changed in different ways as well – slowly, but the signature dark circles under his eyes started disappearing since he was sleeping much more and better than ever before. Sometimes when you looked at him, he almost seemed younger than ever.

Levi shook his head, his thumb running over your wedding band. „I have no right to be mad. It's our kid, but it's your body.“

„It is but... you know...“ Finding the right words was suddenly way too hard. Your whole body was suddenly overflowing with so many different emotions. „These past three years... I knew you wanted a baby. And I wanted to give you one... at least one. But you know that it simply wasn't happening, I wasn't getting pregnant even if we never did anything to prevent it and...“

„Hey, hey, hey! Shhh, don't panic. Take a deep breath,“ he encouraged you, his thumbs slowly rubbing your knuckles. Focusing on the soft expression on his face, you took a couple of deep breaths to calm down a little. „I hoped we would one day have a child together. Not really when we were still in the Survey Corps, but after we settled down here. But that doesn't mean I wasn't happy with just you by my side.“ Levi talked slowly to make sure you were able to follow his thoughts.

„We're so not ready for this, Levi. But I don't think we'll ever be.“ You laughed nervously and leaned closer to plant a soft kiss on his lips. „You'll be the most amazing dad ever. I'm more than sure,“ you whispered into his lips, kissing him once more.

„Guess I'll learn,“ he smirked, placing one of his hands on the back of your head to keep you close. „And you will too. We'll manage.“

„It probably won't be harder than killing Titans.“

Hearing him chuckle was a very nice end to this day. You thought about a moment like this many times before – about telling Levi that your little family will soon have a new addition. And now it was reality. You were talking about a baby that was already growing inside you.

„Aren't we too old for this?“ Levi suddenly asked, kissing your forehead. His lips were still very slightly curled upwards.

„Probably not if we managed to actually make a baby,“ you giggled and slowly got up, standing in front of Levi. His right hand, which was missing two fingers, gently rested on your lower abdomen.

Your body didn't look any different yet, it was still way too early. And maybe because of that your pregnancy didn't seem real to you. Perhaps later, after your belly will grow a little or after you will feel the baby move for the first time. But for now, you still felt like your old self, just more tired and nauseous.

„Falco knows, right?“ Levi asked suddenly, his thumb very gently stroking your stomach, while he was looking up at you. „Either that or he did something and doesn't want me to find out.“

„He knows, but not from me. I didn't tell him, he figured it out himself after seeing me throw up so many times when they were last here.“ Levi nodded, his face still showing signs of amusement. „But he's the only one and he swore not to tell Gabi.“

„Good. I don't think anybody needs to know for now.“ You nodded, putting your hand over Levi's, which was still gently resting on your stomach.

It was more than obvious that he needed this baby. He needed to be a father. After so many horrific events that took place in his and your life, you both needed something so pure and innocent.

Something so precious.

A true miracle.

[reinababbles]

longing for more [i]

⤷ Uzui Tengen x Fem!Reader x Rengoku Kyojuro

♡ portal ♡ demon slayer ♡ series ♡ words: 799 | reading: n/a

tags fem!reader, slow burn (not kidding in the slightest), angst central, smut (other parts), emotional cheating, fluff, depression, manipulation, maladaptive daydreaming. (lmk if i missed any!)

notes The order of his wife speed run is: you, Makio, Suma, Hina. I would like this au to be one where mainly everyone is living in a big city. For some distance, they could be in a different neighborhood? for the plot.

In the Sound Hashira estate, you are busy washing the dishes after dinner, humming to yourself. Unbeknownst to you, Tengen comes up behind you while you are washing and holds your shoulders. You glance at him but seem to be distracted with your own thoughts “Ah my love!” you smile at him glossy-eyed. Tengen chuckles. "Look at me~" He says in a soft tone, then kisses your cheek.

You fully turn to look at him and hold on to his arms. He smirks and leans down “You look even more lovely than usual." He says in a confident tone. You offer a sweet smile “Thank you, it really-" as soon as you saw Suma enter the kitchen, you turned around and began to hurriedly finish washing the plates. He removes his hand with your movement, and walks over to Suma, embracing her for a moment.

They begin whispering to each other, so quietly that you can not even understand what they are being so secretive about. You dry your hands with the dish towel and start to stride out of the kitchen doors while exclaiming, “Alright, dishes done! Gonna prepare for my nightly walk!” You made the mistake of stealing a glance at them, Suma nods “Alright! Stay safe” while Tengen is staring at her.

As you put up your hair, you remember the good days, when it was just you and Tengen, with Makio in the works of being introduced, and he would be the one to introduce these walks, making jokes about how he would protect and serve you on the streets… His large hands grabbing yours as you two “stride with pride” just for fun.

Now, these walks consist of you walking around popular areas of the city with your hands grazing the potted plants and smiling at other locals in your neighborhood. You take your time admiring at a snails pace, as it is the only time you feel at ease.

Arriving back to the estate, you knock on the door and feel uneasy. Hina opens the door and ushered you in, hugging you as you pass by. “You worried me! This walk was longer than yesterdays!” she scolded. You groan playfully, “Sorry mom” you stick your tongue out, “I��ll make it short tomorrow I promise… maybe.” You jog into the living room, where Suma is reading while Makio stands up. You yawn as Makio walks up to you. She whispers “It’s about time we get to sleep in his arms, we have to fight” she pouts. You nod as you grab her hand and go upstairs.

Tengen always lays in bed first, and enjoys us 4 fight for who gets to be closest to him for the night. It used to be really fun, until it wasn’t, and you just fit in whatever spot was left, as you used to take your walks a little later. Tengen noticed the later times, and told you to please either shorten the distance or walk earlier, as he missed your touch. It made your heart swell, and you were a little nervous to be so close to him. It had been about 2 weeks since you were this close in bed.

In your pajamas, you walk into the master bedroom to see Makio to his left. He smiles when he sees you, and you look down shyly. “y/n, finally” You avoid his gaze as you crawl to his side, his strong arms holding your waist as your head lay on his chest. The other wives join, and Tengen does his ritualistic ‘I love you all’ speech that makes everyone chuckle, followed by soft i love you too’s. Eventually everyone is sleeping soundly, except for you. Tengen’s snoring, paired with your over thinking was too much.

You imagine him kissing your forehead saying that you are his brilliant diamond, like he used to say often when it was just you two. Even with Makio and Suma, he would regularly say he loved and appreciated you, but its been a while. All you end up excited about for three times a week is your nanny job for Senjuro, Rengoku Kyojuro’s younger brother, as well as the butterfly mansion girls. You had a knack for bonding with children, and had good home making skills.

Tengen had envisioned and hyped you up about having children of your own the first year you were married, but now it has been 3 years of growing family in the opposite direction. “Was I really the brilliant diamond he cherished, since he felt he needed 3 more?” you thought to yourself. Your head eventually started to hurt, as your mind drifted to what lies ahead tomorrow. At least Tengen was warm…

reinababbles please do not copy | ty for the ♡ & reblogs!

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 8

Source for pic

Firestarter 8 🔞

Word Count: 4392

Aditional warning for this chapter: There is a scene that is EXPLICIT NSFW. I will mark it with the 🔞 sign so you can skip it if you want. Having said this, your internet experience is your own and you should be acountable for it. You've been warned, read at your own discretion. Thank you!

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: We took a lot of time to get here, so, for now, enjoy the fluffiness of this chapter, please! 🥰

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

|Previous Chapter 🔞 | | |Next Chapter|

The sun hits you in the eyes and you stir. The breeze feels warm against the bare skin of your arms. As you take a deep breath, you are immediately flooded by Ace’s scent. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck and squeeze your arms tighter around him.

He must’ve already been awake because you sense a kiss on your head. “Morning, beautiful.”

You can’t stop smiling and blushing, but you open your eyes to stare at him. “Hi.” He’s also smiling at you and he lowers his head to kiss you on the lips. “You must be so sore.” You murmur, because you both slept on the floor, but he held you against him and forced you to use him as a pillow.

“No. This was the best sleep of my life.”

“Stop being cute.” You say with a smile.

“Can’t. You rubbed your ‘cute’ all over me yesterday.” That elicits a chuckle and soon you're both laughing.

You won’t deny it. Last night was heaven. You used up all the condoms Ace had in his wallet, you cuddled under the stars and made silly promises of always wanting to be with each other. You shared favourite foods, colours, music and movies and your connection is so real that it’s like you have known him your whole life and never spent a day apart from him. 

With the light of day you were afraid that this might all have been a dream and that you would doubt Ace’s intentions, after all, he won the chase, he got you.

Yet, he’s still looking at you as if you were the only important thing on the planet. He’s holding you so tight one might think you were about to slip down the mountain. And he keeps stealing kisses from your lips as if he’s afraid you won’t return them. 

“Maybe we should get going.” You murmur while glancing at his wristwatch. “I’m sure Shanks already realised what happened, but I don’t want to be late to help him.”

Ace hums and shifts, positioning you on the floor and entwining his legs with yours so he can hover over you. “Five more minutes so I can properly kiss you good morning.”

You smile and nod, closing your eyes and waiting for his kiss, but he swiftly disappears in the middle of your thighs and you gasp. “Ace!”

“I didn’t specify which lips I wanted to kiss.” Comes his muffled response and you arch your back against his touch. Ten more minutes won’t make much of a difference, right?

-*-

You feel a little silly dressed only in your pyjamas, since it's daytime now, and Ace fishes out another one of his used t-shirts from the backseat. 

“Do you have an unending pile of clothes there?” You chuckle and put on the oversized tee over your pyjama, tying a knot in the back to make it shorter. 

He shrugs and gives you another kiss. “I just keep taking them off and they end up in the backseat. Sorry if it's a bit smelly.” He grimaces. “But, damn, you do make my shirts look sexy.”

Giggling you open the door and are about to enter when Ace sets his hands on your hips to help you up. If that gesture made your toes curl before, now it almost makes you roll your eyes in pleasure. “Ace!” You stare at him from inside the car. 

“I can't help it. Your hips are like a magnet to my hands.” He goes for another quick peck, but you turn in the seat and pull him by the neck, opening your legs and letting him nestle against you for an open-mouthed kiss. 

He grunts into you as he pulls away. “Stop that, Firestarter, I don't have any more condoms.” You smirk as he pulls away from you and goes around the jeep to get into the driver's seat. “You wanna kill me?”

He's obviously aroused. 

But so are you. 

So you try to get your mind out of the gutter as you choose a song on the radio and he drives. The mood for the ride this time is way different than before. You are sitting on top of the world. 

And Ace is right there with you. 

He keeps placing his hand on your thigh when it's not needed on the stick, and you can't stop grinning. You have such warmth inside your chest that you're almost afraid you'll combust. 

You're happy. So happy. You don't actually remember feeling like this. 

Ever. 

You feel the need to tell him how much he means to you, to let him know that, in just a short span of days - that felt like an eternity because you were always around him or thinking about him - you've fallen deeply and madly in love. You've come to the realisation that you simply can't - and don't want to - live without him. 

But you're afraid to let him know that already. It's too much for too little time and he's not used to relationships. You don't want to scare him. Even though you're dying to know if what he feels for you is as intense as what you feel for him. 

Eventually Ace pulls over at Shanks’ house and you both leave the jeep. Ace says he only has to be at the fire station after lunch so he'll help you and Shanks with chores and you're happy about that decision. 

But Shanks doesn't seem too happy. 

“Morning, dad!” You greet with a small wave, but the redhead staring at you from the top of the porch only hums and drinks coffee from his mug. 

“Good morning Sh-... Sir.” Ace says respectfully and you stifle a giggle. Why is he being so formal around your father?

“Ace is helping us with chores, is that alright?” 

He hums again as a response and you and Ace climb the stairs together. Raising an eyebrow at your father, you step inside the threshold ready for a cup of coffee yourself. You'd also like a bath, but that will have to wait until after the chores. 

Ace is about to follow you inside when Shanks steps in front of him, giving him a menacing stare and a scowl.

“Dad!” You growl from inside the house. “What are you doing?”

Shanks turns his head your way and finally smiles at you. “Go on inside, bug, I'm just going to have a quick chat with Ace.”

What now? You grumble and turn to go into the kitchen but, as soon as your dad turns, you return to eavesdrop. 

“Portgas, explain.”

“Sir, I… what am I supposed to explain? We talked and cleared the air between us. We're fine now.” Ace seems nervous. 

“You talked?”

“Uh… I… we… uh…” You facepalm and groan internally. 

“You defiled my daughter, scoundrel!”

Why is your father speaking like he's a man from the 18th century? 

“What? Shanks?!”

“It's ‘sir’ for you. It will be ‘sir’ for the rest of your life. And you've just lost your privilege to coffee.”

“Ah, Sh-... Sir! I really need coffee.”

Shaking your head you can’t help but think that your father is overdoing it.

“Why do you need coffee? Stayed up all night?” He curses and exhales deeply. “Ace, you better not hurt my baby girl. You see the smile she walked in here with today? You better keep her smiling like that.”

Sighing at your father’s protectiveness, you turn to go back to the kitchen. 

“I intend to keep that smile on her face, Sir. Every day.” 

The softness with which Ace delivered the words makes you melt and sigh again as you pace into the kitchen and take out two coffee mugs. Filling them to the brim and snatching the plate of pancakes your dad cooked for breakfast, you return to the porch and set the items on the balcony. 

“Dad, stop trying to act mean.” You drag Ace to a chair and sit next to him, handing him one of the coffee mugs. He stares at Shanks who simply sighs and enters the house again. 

With a heavy sigh, Ace takes a huge gulp of the coffee and you knit your eyebrows together. “Don't let him bully you, Ace. He's just trying to be mean.”

“He's right, though.”

“About what?” The coffee tastes delicious and you hum into the mug in delight. 

“About warning me.” He scratches the back of his head and sets the mug down again. “I'm no good.” A sigh escapes his lips as he locks eyes with you. “Look at you, you deserve so much better than me…”

Oh, you are definitely going to kill Shanks. But first, you need to put a smile back on Ace's face. Getting up from your chair and sitting on his lap, you cup his cheeks with your hands and force him to look at you. 

“You silly, silly man. You're perfect for me. You're all I've ever wanted and I've never been happier. Don't doubt yourself. You're enough!” Leaning down, you rub your nose against his in an affectionate manner. “More than enough, actually, and you're all mine.”

That seems to do the trick because his cheeky smile is back on his freckled face and he circles your body with his arms, one of his big hands grabbing your butt cheek as he leans in to claim your lips and you giggle into his mouth. 

“Hmm, hmm.” Shanks clears his throat and Ace immediately parts from you, raising his hands in the air and looking at Shanks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh, come on!” You whine. “Dad, get used to this and stop being mean to Ace.”

“Get off me, Firestarter.” Ace whispers without breaking eye contact with Shanks. “He looks pissed.”

Eventually you lay the groundwork for a semblance of peace between both men, and you get to work helping your father. Shanks asks Ace to do chores on the other side of the property so you don't get distracted and he's right in doing that, because both times you pass by Ace on your way to get something, you two lose yourselves in kisses and embraces, barely getting any work done. 

Lunchtime approaches quickly, and the morning chores are done. Ace needs to get home to shower because he has to be at the fire station in the afternoon and you are taking your time to say goodbye to him, by his jeep. 

“Thanks for all the help, cowboy.” A sultry whisper escapes your lips as you lean your back against the jeep’s door, your hand lingering on his chest in a soft caress. 

His smile mimics yours as he tilts his hat back. That adorable cowboy hat he wears in the sun. His skin is sweaty and glistening from the sun and his freckles make you weak in the knees. Pressing his body against yours, he lets his fingers caress the side of your body before settling on your hip, his thumb slowly circling your hip bone. 

“Anytime, anywhere.” You chuckle as he leans in, his teeth nibbling your lower lip before his tongue swipes to ease the sting. Closing your eyes, you moan into his touch and he uses it as a cue to take your lips in a gentle kiss. “Come shower with me.” He whispers against your ear, kissing your skin with his hot breath, a veiled promise of what's to come, should you accept. 

Tempting. So tempting. 

“Can't.” You exhale. “Shanks is waiting for me.” He grunts and that low vibrato makes your skin perk up with goosebumps. “Later?”

His warm hands and nimble fingers keep caressing you, making promises he intends to keep and you feel your mind fog up with pleasure and yearning. 

“Want to come by the station?”

“Hmm, hmm.” You mumble against his lips. “Will you be alone?”

“Yeah, everyone will be at the Jubilee.”

“Perfect.”

Your arms circle his neck and you pull him down for a final desperate kiss. “I gotta go.” 

“Me too.” He grunts and you groan but neither of you moves to actually leave. None of you wants to part and stop kissing. Not when it feels this good, when it feels like you're two halves of a whole and you're finally reunited. 

“Lunch is getting cold!”

The yell coming from the porch makes Ace pull away from you as if you suddenly caught fire and you can't stop a hearty laugh at the respect he holds for your father. 

“You should go.” He says without looking back at Shanks, and you nod, letting go of his neck, but nor before laying another peck on his lips. 

“See you later.”

-*-

The first thing you do after having lunch and taking a well-deserved shower, is text Nami. You send her exactly three words and wait: He is good! 

Giggling, you pick up the call you knew she was going to make immediately and tell her what happened. You're so happy that you need to share the news. 

-*-

Shanks corners you and tries to have a conversation about sexual responsibility and safety during sex and your eyes almost roll out of their sockets once he starts. 

“Dad, are you serious? I was going to get married by the end of the year! I'm 25 years old! You can't expect me to be sexually innocent, right?”

Shanks’ blush rivals the colour of his hair and you are quite sure it's a reflection of the blush on your own cheeks. Grunting and turning away from you, seemingly occupied with packing some fruit and water before he leaves for the Jubilee, he adds: “Ace is a good kid, Bug. I told you that. And he told me his intentions towards you come from real feelings, not just to pass the time.”

Softening your gaze, you find yourself smiling. So that's what the two of them were talking about yesterday before you left the house. The part of their discussion you missed. 

“I know you're in good hands with him, but I worry…” Shanks closes his eyes as he grabs his hat. Before leaving, his eyes search yours and they seem a bit sad. “I made him promise me he wouldn't break your heart. So you let me know if he does, okay, bug? See you later, sweetie.”

“Thank you, daddy.” Your voice is merely a whisper. 

-*-

As promised, after your father leaves and you get ready, you meet Ace by the fire station. Heart already beating out of compass, lips tingling with excitement and a smile that doesn't leave your mouth. 

You know he will be crazy about you no matter what you wear, but you can't help but dress a bit provocatively just to see his reaction. Using the thigh-high black socks again, you pair them with a cute little dress, half-expecting him to take in the infinite possibilities of easier access. 

This time you use the doorbell, yet he's as fast as he was the first time around and in seconds he's opening the door with a huge grin. 

“Oh, look! My food order arrived! I was starving!” You're about to chuckle at his silliness when he hooks his arms under your butt to get you to straddle his lap, and you oblige. Your laughter gets lost within his mouth because he's already claiming your lips on his with a fiery, passionate kiss. 

It's as electrifying as the first kiss you shared. In fact, all kisses with Ace seem to leave behind a trail of fire that consumes you. It starts somewhere around your belly and its flames lick and climb and spread all over your body, leaving you numb, sweaty and aching for more. 

He pulls a deep moan from inside you with his tongue as he deepens the kiss and you tug at his hair. Desperate fingers find purchase in his dark locks, trying to ground yourself to the here and now because you're already feeling yourself beginning to drift away in the throes of pleasure. 

“Fuck, I've missed you.” He breaks the kiss with a raspy voice as he sits you on the back of the couch, hands gripping you tightly and digits protruding the skin. His eyes gobble you up and he almost has to pick up his jaw from the floor as he finally takes you in. “Are you trying to kill me, Firestarter?”

Your legs find purchase against the couch, hands lazily draped over his shoulders and he deems you safe enough to loosen his hold on you. A guttural grunt makes his lips tremble as he runs his hands over your legs and bare thighs. 

Giggling, your fingers play with his hair as you lock eyes with him and hit him with your best sultry voice. “Not kill, no. But, perhaps, hinder you enough to take you aback.” Another giggle. “Is it working?”

“Fuck yeah, it is.”

🔞 EXPLICIT NSFW PART - READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION 🔞

His warm hand finds its way to the inside of your thighs, his digits exploring further and finding you already wet and wanting, the thin cloth of your panties barely holding anything back. 

“You're already this wet for me, baby?” He coos in your ear and you whine at the sensation his hot touch creates. “Did you think about me as you were getting dressed?” He lays soft kisses along your neck and collarbone and you find it quite hard to concentrate on his questions. 

“Hmm, hmm.” It's all you can manage as he pulls the wet cloth aside and drags two fingers on your folds, spreading your slickness. 

“What was that?” His tongue teases your earlobe at the same time as his thumb does the same to your clit, and all the sane thoughts you had left in your mind go out the window. “I need a verbal answer, Firestarter. Can you do that?”

No. No, you can't. Because he's thrusting his fingers inside of you and biting at every bit of exposed skin on your upper body, and he's so warm and hot that it's like he's pure fire. And by all the gods, you don't mind burning away into ashes if it feels this good. 

“I… Hmm, hmm. Yes, sure, yeah.” You manage to croak between sighs and mewls and the chuckle he releases against your neck makes his lips vibrate and elicit a very shameless moan. 

“Are you still here with me?” He claims your lips again, trying to pull you back from the pleasurable place you drifted onto. Unbeknownst to him that such an act only pushes you further. 

“Ace…” You whimper. How is it that with a few kisses and touches he has already reduced you to a whimpering, moaning mess, already on the verge of begging for him. 

“It's okay baby, I got you.”

That sentence tells you he's almost done with his teasing and you help him get rid of his shorts so he can open the wrapper to the condom. Yet, before he does, you jump down from your perch and fall on your knees in front of him, eager to taste him as you have yet to try. Locking eyes with him, you catch his mischievous glimmer, reading your intentions full well.

Your lips tingle with excitement at the prospect of having him in your mouth, and you eagerly tug down his boxers and also get rid of your panties while you’re at it. “Fuck.” He mutters as you bite your lower lip, practically salivating at the sight before you. Using the precum gathered at his tip, you lather his length with your tongue as he releases a groan and places his hand on your head, fingers tangling around your hair for purchase. 

He's definitely bigger than what you were used to, but you love a challenge. Hollowing your cheeks, you suck around him with one hand fondling his balls and the other one stroking his shaft. The sounds leaving his lips are driving you insane and you can't help but release one of your hands from him so you can put some pressure on your clit that's throbbing incessantly. 

That action elicits a deep moan from you and Ace pulls out of your mouth before he loses control. “Ah, you're so good to me.” His praises leave you blushing. “Get up, baby.” He whispers as he finishes putting on the condom. 

Ace removes the straps from your dress so he can pull it down and free your tits, suckling and biting on the nipples until you’re panting against his ear. “Ace! I need you right now, please, please!”

“There you go begging for me, baby. You know that drives me insane.” He grunts as he turns you and bends you over the back of the couch, spreading your legs with one swift motion. “You want me? How badly do you want me?” He teases the tip against your folds, letting it drag towards your clit and you arch your back to him. His hand slithers and grabs your boob, squeezing it and pinching the nipple as he aligns himself with your entry, just waiting for your answer. 

“I want you so much, Ace. I can't stop thinking about you inside me and-... Mmmm, just like that.” You gasp as your nails dig into the plushness of the couch. He's inserting himself tantalisingly slowly and you can feel your walls stretching and accommodating him, welcoming him inside. 

“So tight…” He grunts and buries his head in the crook of your neck, as you're still arching back. “So perfect.” As he finally bottoms out, the two of you moan in unison, taking shallow breaths. He slides his hand along your spine, from bottom to the top and pushes you gently forward by the nape, so you return to a bent position. Then he places both hands on your hips and starts to thrust relentlessly. 

The burn spreads and scorches and extends its fiery tendrils to parts of you you barely even realised were there. He's so deep within you that it almost hurts, but instead, it's a pressure that feels good and keeps building and intensifying, pulling moan after moan from your lips. “That's it, baby, scream for me, we're all alone.” He assures you. 

“God, Ace! I'm almost… Mmm… Ace!”

You can feel his thrusts getting more and more erratic, his pacing increasing and yet you still fall off that ledge before him when a feeling of numbness and overpowering burn courses through you. A panting, gasping moan leaves your lips in shallow breaths and Ace’s arm circles your waist, pulling you towards him, firmly, tightly as his release follows yours with a deep grunt, and his head collapses forward, against your shoulder. 

You're breathing in tandem. Shallow, erratic breaths that leave you lightheaded. Or perhaps those are only the effects of the earth-shattering orgasm he just gave you. Whatever it is, you're both recovering. Somehow he recovers faster and, still buried within you, scatters sloppy kisses on your back and shoulders.

“You’re so perfect, so, so perfect.” A chuckle leaves your lips followed by a breathy whine when he pulls out of you. He’s still holding you tightly against him and his hand travels from your waist to your neck and he pressures near your jaw to tilt your head to the side and back so he can claim your lips. “Fucking perfect.” He exhales after your short kiss.

-*- 🔞 END OF EXPLICIT NSFW PART 🔞 -*-

“Told you that one was the first to die!” You point at the screen with a victorious shout as the blonde girl gets slashed in the first ten minutes of the horror movie. “I should've made a bet!”

Snuggling closer, you steal a kiss from Ace's lips. He smiles as his arms circle tighter around you. The loveseat that the other night seemed too small for both of you, now has plenty of space since you're lying on top of Ace. 

Your boyfriend? 

You haven't labelled it, but he did say he wanted to try a serious relationship. Whatever he is, he makes you happy. Your heart keeps swelling at the tiniest things he does for you. It's so endearing the way he circles his fingers in your hair, or the way he nudges his nose against yours when you're absorbed in the movie. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks as his stomach growls and that is another thing you have come to expect of Ace. He's always hungry. 

“I could eat.”

“I don't think there are many takeouts open during Jubilee, I think we might have to settle for pizza again.” He mumbles, half-annoyed. “One of these days I need to take you to a proper fancy restaurant. How about that?”

Giggling, you nod as he starts to dial the pizza place's number. “Sounds nice.”

After he places the order, you continue watching the movie, but Ace keeps distracting you with feather-like touches and cheeky kisses and you're bordering on a weird limbo between sleep and wakefulness. 

You register the faraway sound of the doorbell, but Ace lifts you up very slowly, settling you back down on the couch and you keep your eyes closed, being lulled by the lingering smell of Ace around you and, oddly enough, the screaming sounds of the movie. 

Just like the first time you visited, Deuce takes it upon himself to enter the day room and see which girl Ace is with this time. You hear them as if they are very far away. 

“I can't believe you, Ace. She was perfect for you, if you have another one of those bimbos in there with you, I swear-... Oh.”

He must've seen your sleeping form on the couch, especially since you sense Ace approaching and fixing your skirt, which might've been riding up. He then moves away and growls with a whisper. “I told you to beat it, man! Nosy bastard.”

“Well you're right. I'm nosy. But I'm proud of you. She is the one, hey?” Ace’s chuckle is very warm and you sigh with a deep inhale. “But she's freaking hot, I don't know why she wants anything to do with you and-...”

“Enough, enough. Beat it.”

You still hear their whispered voices moving away. Ace sits down near you again, scooping you up in his arms and laying a sweet kiss on your forehead. “You're the one, alright.”

[sbadaboo]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Matched up

(Bada Lee x reader)

C/w : crude language, forced marriage, matchmaking, homophobia is implied, abusive parents, parental abuse (minor violence), drug mentioned, smoking…

A/n : just some warning

-> this story will be a series so don’t worry if the characters seem to hate each other, it won’t stay that way

-> I’d like to remind y’all that English is not my first language and that I make a lot of mistakes (I simply hope it won’t be noticeable or troublesome)

-> This is a fanfiction, none of the events are based on real life events and I even if the characters have the names of real people, they have been used purely for fictional purposes.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You lighted a cigarette and placed delicately in between your lips, with a quick movement, that perfectly reflected how smoking was a habit for you. You were in your own bubble and with how peaceful you looked, it was complicated to guess the actual atmosphere around you.

Indeed, the music was pounding in your ears and the laughter and screams of the people around you could almost cover the loud music. Almost. But still, you weren’t moving, it was just you and your cigarette and also the two entire bottles of alcohol that you had just finished two minutes earlier. Honestly, you were just drunk and all the people trying to talk to you just seemed so far away.

Oh, how much you loved your life.

Nothing was better than enjoying life with your friends at 3 a.m on your yacht.

You loved your friend.

You loved your yacht.

And you loved being drunk.

And that’s with these enjoyable thoughts that you drift off to sleep, a cigarette still trapped between your lips and a faint smile on your lips.

.

.

.

Hands were on your body and you could hear your name being called. You were being shaken so hard by those hands that you couldn’t help but wake up. As you slowly opened your eyes, the sun filled your vision and all you could do was growl in discomfort. You squinted a little before actually noticing your surroundings. Your friends were all sleeping in different parts of the boat, in positions that didn’t look comfortable at all. Your eyes then followed the hands on your body just for them to fall on the face of your own mom.

“What the fuck are you doing here ?” You asked, your voice rough from your hangover and from how much you screamed the lyrics of some stupid songs yesterday.

“Language !” She squeaked before lifting you up, abruptly from where you were lying, making you grimaced and completely dizzy.

She then started shaking you again with a displeased scowl on her face.

“S-stop… stop !” You exclaimed, removing her hands from your body and taking a step back. You then straightened your clothes and looked her dead in the eyes before asking : “What do you want ?”.

But perhaps the tone didn’t please her because the disgust could be read in her eyes and without a second thought, she slapped your cheek.

Your reaction showed the signs of a routine. You were used to your mom lashing out on you and because of that, you didn’t bat an eye at that slap, you just waited for her to tell you what you did wrong this time.

“How dare you be here instead of at the date I took days planning for you ? ” she screamed. “Your…” she looked around, pointing an accusatory finger at the mess that your friend and you had made the night before. “Your lifestyle is starting to spread among the good families and your chances of getting married keep on decreasing. You little ungrateful brat, you don’t know how much your existence is tarnishing my reputation. ” You listened to her ranting but after a while, you couldn’t help but yawn which she noticed immediately. “I’m going to find a husband to tame you and after that you can say goodbye to partying, getting drunk because you’ll be too busy carrying your husband's kids.”

You tried your hardest to not gagged because what your mother was describing seemed like the deepest part of hell.

You were 24 for fuck’s sake. You had your own business that was making so much profit but all your mom cared about was the fact that you were an unmarried woman enjoying her youth.

“I don’t have time to think about marriage.” You simply answered and to that she slapped you again.

“Don’t raise your voice at me !” She said before turning on her heels, going back from where she came from.

You knew she was up to something and you weren’t that excited to find out what was her new way to ruin your life.

Sighting, you slowly sat on the floor, suddenly too tired to stand.

“Your cheeks must hurt a lot.” You heard a voice mumbling close to you, making you flinched.

“God, you scared me !” You gasped. “When did you wake up ?” You asked Yunjin who was still lying on the floor.

“I mean… your mom screams a lot.” She giggled.

“I know… she’s so annoying.” You answered.

.

.

.

Bada’s life was perfect.

She truly had nothing to complain about. She had started her business 3 years ago and it had flourished so fast that she was known among the most notorious circles. What was her company ? She was the boss of a prosperous matchmaking company for wealthy people.

And she was truly popular. All the affluent figures were passing through her to find a good match with an equivalent prosperity since rich people don’t mix with the plebeian.

There was something that she was so proud of : she never failed to create a good couple where both parties were beneficial for each other.

Today, she had a new meeting with a mother who wanted to find the perfect match for her daughter. Usually, her employees would take care of that but when she realized that the woman was a part of the Shin family. She was such an influential person and if she managed to marry her daughter to a good man, that would make her business skyrocketed.

The woman that entered the place was an elegant middle aged woman. She had a smile that looked friendly but also quite cold. She was an intimidating woman and Bada was really curious about what her daughter looks like.

Bada stood up to bow slightly, indicating the couch in front of her with her hands for the woman to sit. And once the woman was sitting, Bada followed on the other couch.

“I heard that you were capable of miracles.” Said the mother without introducing herself, not that she needed to.

“I’m flattered by your words Mrs. Shin.” Chuckled Bada.

“Those are not my words though. Not yet but I would love to see if the rumors are true.” She said before searching for something in her bag while Bada tried not to show any discomfort by what she had just said. “This is my daughter.” She said showing a photo on her phone.

Bada took a look at it and she found a beautiful girl, smiling widely at the camera. If this was the appearance of her daughter, Bada was sure that there would be no problem to find her a good husband, as long as she was not as rude as her mother.

“Don’t be fooled by her appearance, she’s a debauched woman.” Scoffed Mrs. Shin and Bada couldn’t help but be shocked by the way this woman was talking about her daughter.

“There’s nothing I can’t do.” Bada finally said respectfully. “I would simply need a meeting, and I’m sure I can find someone fit for your daughter.”

“I’ll leave it in your hands then.” Declared the middle aged woman as she stood, leaving the contact information of her daughter on the table.

Bada bowed a last time, feeling slightly uneasy about what was coming.

.

.

.

You laughed loudly as you received a text from your mother saying that she enrolled you in a matchmaking program. You couldn’t believe it, she had actually lost her mind. How dare she put her nose in her daughter's private life like this ?

A few days after this text, you had received an email from “HeartSync” and you assumed it was this matchmaking program your mother was talking about. The mail mentioned a meeting but you didn’t bother reading it entirely and to be polite, you answered simply that you were busy with no time for a meeting. You thought that would be enough but, oh, how wrong were you.

The following day, you received a mail destined to you at your workplace but when you realized where it was coming from you simply tore it apart before throwing it in the trash, not thinking much about it.

It lasted a week. For a whole week, you received mails and letters, always more persistent than the preceding one. It felt like you needed to get a restraining order against this HeartSync company. But at least you were only receiving letters that could be thrown or deleted quickly so you didn’t care that much.

You wanted to slap yourself just for thinking that because you just had brought the worst luck upon yourself.

The following week, while you were working in your office on the floor above the showroom you own, your assistant walked in. For a second, you thought that she was bringing another letter but that was before she opened her mouth :

“Someone is waiting outside and she is saying that you two have to talk. Should I let her in ?”

“Is she someone I know?” You asked instead of answering.

“I don’t think so.” She said after pondering for a second.

You hummed, thinking before allowing your assistant to open the door. If it was someone dangerous then the bodyguard standing outside of your office would step in within a second.

Your assistant nodded before getting out, probably to tell the woman outside to come in. As the door opened a second time, it was not your assistant who entered but a woman who had a slender body and was wearing a nice and fitting black suit. Her hair was black with some hidden blonde hair under the top layer of strands. She was pretty, you thought. But the minute you saw her smile, you changed your mind, she was actually gorgeous even though there was something unsettling about that smile but you simply couldn’t point it out.

With as much respect you could gather, you invite her to sit on the chair in front of your desk.

Bada looked at you up and down, taking notice of your clean and elegant look that she could guess was a Chanel tweed jacket. You seemed to be quite a glamorous and well put together lady which surprised Bada, still having in mind the words that your mother used to describe you.

“My name is Lee Bada.” She said after realizing the silence. “I am the CEO of HeartSync, perhaps you have heard through all the mails that have been sent recently.”

Your smile completely fell off. Of course, she was sent here by your mom. You signed, slightly massaging your temples, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“I don’t think I need to guide you to the door.” You said coldly.

“I guess marriage is a sensitive topic for you. It’s okay, I’ve met a lot of people like you.” Claimed Bada.

“Oh ? And did you invade their workplace with importunate mails too ?” You snickered.

Bada’s smile stayed unwavering but the hand on her thigh clenched slightly. “Well… It must have been quite bothersome and I apologize for that. However, I was simply doing the task that had been assigned by your mother. She really hoped that you could find a good partner and I’m here to help you with that.”

“You misunderstood something.” You answered her. “She doesn’t care if whoever I’m going to marry is a good person or not, she wants wealth and she’s tired of me tarnishing her reputation, that’s why she wants me to find a husband. Unfortunately for her, I couldn’t care less about what she wanted. And you, you’re a monster enriching yourself off of people’s desperation. I know exactly how your little business works. Personally? Good partner? You’re just creating couples with the same social status. Everything is about gaining more money and I’m not interested in that.”

Bada wouldn’t say that you were wrong. Actually, you were absolutely right. Bada’s job could be quite awful and she knew that what she was doing was more of a business contract than genuine love but how could you blame her, the matchmaking industry was giving her so much profit.

“Your mother thought that you would say that.” Eventually said Bada. “And she gave me a list of insults and threats to use to convince you.” She laughed a little. “However, that’s not really how I work. I want what is the best for my clients. It is true that a wedding is a way of improving wealth but what we prioritize is the human relationship. Allowing a matchmaking company to do the work will help you save time in your research. ”

What she said sounded like a business proposal and it was boring you to death.

“It is also important to say that we won’t throw you into a date so abruptly. Every month, we organized social gatherings for single people. Most of the time, the parents are present which helps us create bonds among the family and set up the future dates with the potential match approved by the family.”

This, however, peaked your attention. Your mom would be present at this social gathering? You tried to hide your mischievous smile as you quickly straightened your back.

“Wow ! Perhaps I misjudged your matchmaking company or whatever. When would that social gathering be held?” You asked.

“This weekend.” She replied.

“I see. Then I will see you there.” You responded, standing up, forcing Bada to stand up too, by politeness. You took her hand into yours, shaking it, making her spurt out a surprised noise. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

And after you shoved her outside, making her completely overtaken by the situation but if her convicting speech actually worked then she could go back to work, the mind appeased. Little did she know that everything would go downhill this weekend because of you.

.

.

.

Bada spent the last few days working on this social gathering. Food, decorations, people. Everything had to be perfect for Mrs. Shin. It was a chance that she couldn’t let pass. If she managed to have the Shin family on her success list then everyone would rush to her company. It was her chance to become bigger and to destroy all competition.

She was glad the description that Mrs. Shin had made was completely wrong. Her daughter was everything but a debauched woman. You owned a showroom that was the place a lot of high end women were spending their time and money. You were really elegant but eventually, she noticed that you and your mother had the same witty attitude. But nothing was impossible for Bada, she was going to find the perfect man for you.

When the day finally came, Bada was feeling way more stressed than she ever had. Her hands were sweaty and she tried her best not to wipe them on her dress. For now, she looked quite put together with her black silk dress.

The room was already full of people but Mrs. Shin and her mother were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they had found someone else? She thought. Was her service not good enough? Where had she messed up ? Perhaps you didn’t like how she talked to you the other day? She tried not to show her nervousness by greeting all the people present.

Fortunately, she saw the face of Mrs. Shin after an hour and she rushed to greet Mrs. Shin but she halted after taking a look at her face. She looked really displeased and Bada wasn’t sure what had angered her, but looking nervous couldn’t be an option and because of that, she walked up to her, bowing respectfully.

“I’m glad to see you here.” Said Bada, looking around, a little bit confused. “But where is your daughter?”

“She’s coming.” She snarled.

And coming, you were. You walked in like you owned the place and Bada should be offended by that, because she was the one actually owning the place. But how could she, when she was so captivated by your looks. You were radiating confidence, which she was not in that moment, making her feel self conscious about herself. While she was pretending to have it, you were not acting. However, her awe quickly disappeared when she realized why your mother was making that face. You were wearing a black dress, a really pretty dress but also a very short one, clearly not the type of dress you were expecting to see in a high end social gathering where sophistication was required. The dress had a lace corset integrated that made your bust parts see through. It was indecent. That was the only word that could describe this outfit.

She walked up to her mom, standing right behind her to bow slightly at you but on your face, no sign of respect could be seen.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you again,hm…” she started, trailing off at the end of her sentence.

“Lee Bada.” Reminded the matchmaker.

“Yes ! That’s your name.” You giggled, knowing it would annoy your mother. And you were right, you felt her glare piercing your skin. You looked elsewhere to hide your smile and you noticed something interesting. “Well if you’ll excuse me, I would love to go around and say hi.”

Bada looked pleased to know that you were going to get involved in this social gathering however, your mother was frowning her eyebrows like she knew your polite act was nothing but a facade.

You saw someone in the distance that you recognised right away and quickly excused yourself to go stand by his side, knowing that it would surprise him.

“ Are you looking for a wife?” You asked from behind and when he turned around, his dull eyes suddenly sparkled.

“No fucking way, you’re here too ?” Replied Wonbin, a smile on his lips.

“Unfortunately.” You answered, standing next to him. “But it’s more surprising to see you here. How did your parents convince you?”

“They said that if I didn’t come, they would make me go back to their house to live with them.” Sighed Wonbin.

“I’m so glad my mom has not resorted to that yet. That’s the most terrifying threat ever.”

Wonbin could only nod in agreement. He wishes he was like and could find a way to emancipate himself from his family but starting business was not as easy as it used to be. Until now, he had been forced to live off his family allowance and it was hell. Seeing you here was the best gift the universe could offer.

“But why are you here?” He asked after pondering. “It’s not like your mother has something she can use against you since you’re totally independent from her.”

“I’m not here to look for a husband,”you answered truthfully. “I want to make sure my mom will never pay a matchmaker for me.”

Wonbin seemed hooked by what you just said and you two started a conversation about how parents should leave their adult children alone and not force them to get married.

Bada looked at you two from afar and she couldn’t be happier. If you managed to sympathize with someone, it meant that this event was a total success. The stress finally left her body for a few minutes but of course, something had to go wrong.

Bada felt a presence in her back and she quickly turned around to find Mrs. Shin with a scowl on her face.

“Stop these two from talking.” She growled.

“Hm…why ?” Asked Bada, since she couldn’t understand what was wrong.

“That’s one of her friends.” She responded, annoyed. “It’s one of her drinking partners. I refuse for them to be seen together. It will just destroy her image even more. Keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”

Bada quickly understood and she walked up to you, clasping her hands together.

Coming back to you. You were still talking vividly with Wonbin, letting him keep you up with the recent gossip.

“You know who else has been dragged here ?” He asked with a playful smile.

“Don’t make me guess. Tell me.” You declared, frowning a little.

“Well… first it seems that you two had the same dress code because she’s wearing a really sluty dress too.”

You pondered for a while, trying to think of which one of your friends had as horrible parents as you and Wonbin. But you didn’t have time to actually get the answers out of Wonbin because you felt someone coming to your side.

Lee Bada was here, wearing her usual smile. “Mr. Park, if you will excuse us. There’s some people who would like to meet Ms. Shin.”

You faked a whine, looking at Wonbin with pleading eyes and he answered by lifting his hand, reaching for you but you were too far. Once you guys were done with your dramatic act, you turned to Bada who was still smiling at you. You had to lift your head a little to make sure you were looking at the woman in her eyes since she was at least a head taller than you.

You finally realised why Bada was so unsettling for you. It was a customer smile and they were actually nothing genuine about it. Bada’s smile was as fake as the relationship she was creating. She was not different from the other rich people in your life. You still followed her to where she was bringing you and of course, you walked up to some insignificant man who was only looking at your breast.

This conversation was the most boring thing you had done this evening. After the mas started to talk about his income, you completely stopped responding, letting Bada, who didn’t seem to want to leave your side, filling up the gaps.

After fifteen minutes of hell, you noticed someone with a really short red dress walking in front of you and winking at you. It pass unnoticed by the two talking in front of you but you noticed it right away.

“Im going to the bathroom.” You murmured in Bada’s ear before going immediately not letting her stopping you.

Bada left her gaze lingering on you before going back to her boring conversation with this guy (she had already forgot his name).

You entered the bathroom, full of people, and went ponding right away on one of the stalls doors where you could see shoes that you recognised. The women in the bathroom quickly walked away, outraged by such a display of rudeness.

You didn’t care and when the door unlocked and you saw the woman who had walked in front of you earlier, you smiled. At first Wonyoung looked pissed but when she realised who it was, she giggled, reassured.

“You have no manners.” She exhaled, walking past you to the sink and washing her hands. You watched as Wonyoung dried her hands and then proceeded to apply a new layer of lipstick. Making sure that no one was watching, you got something out of your bag and when Wonyoung noticed what it was, her eyes widened. “Are you suicidal? Why do you have that here?”

She tried to take what eas in your hands but you were quicker, moving the little plastic bag to your other hand.

“Don’t you want to have a little party with me?” You asked, feeling playful and agitating the little container.

“You’re not serious right now?” She huffed.

“I’m dead serious but I’m not crazy enough to do weed in this public place.” You said putting the weed sack in your bag. “However, when we’ll be out of here, you, Wonbin and me…” you said, letting the end of your sentence unsaid, knowing that she would immediately understand.

“You don’t know how much I would love that.” She mumbled. “But my parents are here and I can’t go anywhere untill I have a wedding contract or something.” She said, apologetically.

“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

She tilted her head in confusion and you approached your mouth near her ear to murmur something that made her giggle immediately.

“Let’s do that !”she exclaimed, already exiting the bathroom, feeling excited. You walked behind her, letting your gaze admiring her dress that was completely in lace. “Stop looking at my ass.” She said like she could see you.

“I can’t help it, your dress is even shorter than mine.” You uttered in awe which makes her laugh.

As you got back in the main hall, you immediately went to the bar where everyone could see you. You walked past your mother and Bada who was probably blaming the young woman who had letting you escape. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do to her. Almost. It’s not like Bada cared about you that much, you were sure it wouldn’t hurt her.

“Hm… I think we need to grab everyone attention.” You whispered to Wonyoung.

“Don’t worry. I got it.” She whispered back.

She looked at the bar behind her and she then dropped a tray of glasses on the floor, which resonated loudly in the room making everyone look in this way. She didn’t loose a second, she quickly grabbed your cheek before kissing you passionately. It didn’t even catch you off guard since you had planned that, you kissed her back with as much passion you could gather.

Shocked gasps quickly filled the room and even the classical music stopped playing. Everyone was looking at the two women kissing, offended by such an act. It seemed that only Wonbin was appreciating the show, sipping slowly his champagne.

Your mom was the first to move, wanting to separate you two quickly and save a little bit of her reputation but Bada had longer leg and she grabbed your arm quicker. She was dragging you outside, you realised.

“I’ll see you tonight, my love !” You shouted at Wonyoung.

“I already miss your lips !” She screamed back, laughing. You saw her giving a head tilt to Wonbin who answered with a thumbs up.

You were before the exiting doors and finally Bada let go of your arm, violently.

“What the fuck.” She muttered but you heard it and it made you snicker. So this woman wasn’t as stiff as she pretended to be. “W-why would you that ?” She asked in desbelief.

“Do what?” You responded, innocently.

“You know !” She shouted, her cheeks red, clearly embarrassed to say that out loud. “I thought you agreed to come here. I thought it was okay.”

“Then you’re probably stupider than you look.” You claimed, smiling.

“Excuse me?” She huffed, clearly offended by your words but she didn’t have time to retort anything since your mon emerged from the hall, looking angrier than usual.

Your mother looked at you with such a disappointed and disdain look that you almost felt bad. Almost and then you remembered that you mom insisted on you being here and she bro that on herself.

She sighed, she wanted to scream at you but you were still in public and looking at you disgusted her so much. She just decided to give up.

“Just go.” She declared and you cheered loudly, making her even more angry but you didn’t care, you were finally free.

You quickly exited the place, leaving the two women alone.

As soon as Mrs. Shin gaze met Bada’s, the young woman bowed trembling.

“I deeply apologise…” she whispered but she was quickly cut off.

“No need. I shouldn’t have trusted you to do the impossible. You’re pathetic company has way more fame than needed. I was fooled by everyone’s opinion, you’re just another new money person thinking you can scam the high end world. Let me tell you something, with my words, I give you a week before you go bankrupt.”

Bada took a little time to process the threat and she realised how much those words coukd

impact her. She quickly readjusted herself and grappled Mrs. Shin hands, who, disguised, freed herself immediately.

“Please give me another chance ! I did a mistake but it won’t happen anymore.” Shouted Bada but Mrs. Shin wasn’t listening and made her way to the exit. “Please give me a month ! Just a month and you daughter will be married.”

This, however, grabbed her attention. She turned around, letting her cold gaze meeting Bada’s pleading eyes.

“You’ll find her a husband ?” She asked.

“I manage a marital company. It’s my job to create marriage.”

Mrs. Shin let the offer pondering in her mind before nodding, giving Bada a last chance.

“You have a month.” She reminded the woman.

“I won’t disappoint you.” She murmured, closing her eyes, feeling reassured.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Wow you guys read all of that •o•!!

I hoped you liked this first chapter and I’m impatient to write way more.

(I don’t have a tag list yet so if you wan to be notified every time I post please leave me a comment !!)

[mxnhoo]

surprises! (k. sn)

synopsis : sunoo was ghosting you the entire day, and you wanted to have a day out with your mom to take your mind off of it, and suddenly there was.. a surprise?! pairing : kim sunoo x reader genre : romance, fluff, sunoo is mad mad mad sweet it makes me want to cry, not proofread w/c : 2.6k a/n : hey guys, just had a quick idea and had to do something about it. idea is from @/hatsunenica on tiktok. worst part is, it's currently 1am and i need to wake up at 7am tomorrow LOL ignore the mistakes, hope yall enjoy. KINDA HATE IT THO COS IT'S KINDA CLICHE

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You rested on your bed, feeling exhausted after crying non-stop for hours. You were just laying down lifelessly, your phone beside your head. The room was dim, the only light source being the lamp that was resting on your nightstand. Your pillow and sheets were stained with your tears and snot, leaving an obvious outline and you stared blankly, resting on your side. You received a notification, making your phone screen turn on, and you instantly sat up to see the notification, but was quickly met with disappointment when you realised it wasn't from the person you anticipated it to be. Quickly looking at the time before your phone automatically turned off, you realised how early in the day it was for you to be crying like this. Heck, it was only 6am in the morning, the sun has barely rised and you're already feeling a trainwreck of emotions, it's insane. Disappointment and hurt only filled you as you think back on the reason why you were crying in the first place.

Sunoo was not responding to any of your texts or calls, and it was making you feel worried, scared, fearful, to the extent you were crying this badly. He stopped responding to you from 3pm from the day before, and it made your overthinking worse.

Was he tired of you? Was he ghosting you? Did he not love you?

But to make it worse, you two weren't even in a relationship, so you felt like you didn't have the need to get upset over this. Your eyes slowly closed and you drifted off to sleep, feeling completely exhausted after being up for majority of the night, trying to contact Sunoo.

The sunlight made it's way to your room, and upon the brightness increasing, you started to gain consciousness. Opening your eyelids, you are met with the ceiling, and you had to take a few seconds to just stare and recall what happened. You heaved out a big sigh and shook your head, trying to shake the thoughts away. You sat up on your bed and quickly check your phone one last time, and once again, no notifications. You wanted to cry again, but there were no more tears. You put your phone on silent and Do Not Disturb, not wanting to come into contact with it for a while.

You throw your feet over the edge and realise how your journal and pen was resting on the floor. You probably accidentally kicked it down during your sleep after you journalled how you felt, writing down all the things you felt down to release your pent up emotions. You pick the journal up, reading a few lines from the entry you made yesterday.

"i miss your touch, i miss the way you call my name" "i wish you would just say something" "i love you sunoo."

And upon reading the last line, you slammed your book closed, immediately putting it on your nightstand. You shook your head once more, letting out a long sigh. Suddenly, your bedroom door opened, and you turn your head towards the door. It revealed your mom who was looking elated, and she spoke out, "Darling, let's go out today! Dress up nice, okay?"

You wanted to refuse, you wanted to say no so you could just rot at home in your self-pity, but before you could respond, your mom had already closed the door on you, leaving you no choice. Maybe a day without your phone will do it. Maybe you'll feel better.

You softly screamed and set your foot on the floor, standing up and stretching, ready to carry out operation "Day Without Phone Or Texting Sunoo". You knew your mother would take you out to breakfast, so you made your way to the bathroom to start preparing to shower.

Dress up nice? You definitely did. You were shutting your eyelids close as you spray the setting spray on your face after having put on a full make-up look. You slowly put down the spray and opened your eyes, looking at the table mirror in front of you. You grinned as you realised how prettier you have gotten, feeling more confident in your own skin. Today, you wanted to just forget about all of your problems, and you were definitely going to do it in the prettiest way. You stood up from the chair to take into view of how you completeluy looked. The sundress you were perfectly complemented your body well, showing off your good shape and your make-up that was just finished off making you look like a princess. Goddess, even. Feeling happy at your look, you opened the door to see your mom who was already dressed up, sitting on the couch and waiting for you.

"Ready to go? Let's dine at your favourite!" she exclaimed. You nodded, already feeling detached from your problems, and you quickly snatch your bag that was hanging near you as you folloewd her. Your phone was still nicely resting in your room, and you glanced towards your room one more time before closing the front door beside you.

Breakfast at your favourite cafe -- Dreamy Drips, which served the best pancakes, and afterwards your mom bought french toast too, which was nicely accompanied by an ice cream flavour of your choice, chocolate chip.

Afterwards, you and your mom walked around the street, admiring the view and just chatting. Occassionally, Sunoo appeared in your mind and it always made you want to break down, but you focused on the person who loves you with her whole heart -- your mother. You smiled at her, laughing at the jokes she made.

Shopping at your favourite bookstore was also one thing you two did, feeling like you were in paradise. You felt ecstatic at the sight of filled-up bookshelves, and it was almost as if all your problems were non-existent.

A cat-cafe was the next thing you and your mom went to. You absolutely loved cats, wanting to own one so bad but not having enough time to take care of it properly. You caressed the cat that was resting on your lap, and you smiled at your mom who was now taking a photo of you.

Lunch was the next thing. You two ate at a sushi restaurant, completeley devouring the food at sight. When you were completely filled up, you burped loudly and rubbed your stomach, your mom laughing at you.

This time, you and your mom ended up in the mall. You walked past stores, liking how they all have their own styles and different products. You occasionally entered stores to see the different things that they sold, copping a few items here and there.

After a long day, your mom announced that she wanted to go home. You agreed, feeling exhausted yet refreshed too, and she called a taxi. On the taxi ride home, you expected her to be chatty, recalling the simple moments you and her shared earlier in the day, except she was constantly on her phone and constantly typing.

"Who was she texting that she's typing like that?" you thought to yourself. You shrugged and looked out of the window, watching as the car you were in drive past the buildings. Your mom was probably texting your dad.

Upon reaching, you and your mom step foot outside the taxi, and you were about to walk up to her so you two could walk in the house together, but she quickly looked up at you.

"Darling, I have to deal with last-minute things, take the keys!" she exclaimed, smacking the keys to your palms before going to the opposite direction. You didn't even have the chance to say anything before her silhouette started to gradually become smaller, and not visible. You sighed, holding your bag and the plastic bags from the shops you shopped at today, walking up to the front door. Your rings clinked loudly and you unlocked the door, stepping foot inside.

Immediately, you noticed how the aroma of the whole environment was different. It smelled like.. vanilla? You tilt your head in confusion, raising an eyebrow and closing the door behind you. You turned on the light switch and instantly noticed something on the floor. Red.. petals? You observed as it trailed to your room, and you cautiously look around to see if anyone was there, but you were met with nothing. You attentively stepped to the front of your room, twisting the knob and opening the door.

There he was. Sitting on your bed, in a suit, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers - roses, and balloons that were sticked onto your wall that spelled out, "Will you be my girlfriend?".

You dropped the plastic bags you were holding and brought it up to your face. Your jaw dropped and your eyes widened, processing the sight that was right in front of you. Sunoo was chuckling, as he nervously scratched his neck. He stood up from the bed, and started stepping towards you, until you called out, "Stop right there!".

Upon hearing your callout, he immediately halted to a stop, his eyebrows raising as he felt slightly puzzled. "I-I just.. need to process everything.." you added on, slowly bringing your hands down back to your sides.

He chuckled and responded, "You can take your time, I'll always be here, okay, Y/N?". Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt a blush creep up your cheeks and ears. You finally processed the sight in front of you, and cleared your throat. "S-so.. what is this?".

He finally took the steps towards you, holding up the bouquet and smiling at you oh-so handsomely. He replied, "I wanna ask the prettiest girl out, and it so happens to be you".

You still couldn't believe your eyes, but you slowly took the bouquet into your hands and sniffed the aroma of the roses. They smelled so beautiful. Your eyes started welling up, and upon seeing your emotional state, Sunoo started to panick, "W-wait, why are you cryin-?"

Tears finally rolling down your cheeks and you cried out, "I thought you hated me! I thought you didn't like me anymore and I thought you found someone else! I couldn't stop crying earlier today because of my overthinking!".

Still panicking, Sunoo quickly brought you into an embrace, and patted your back. "Shh, I got you, Y/N."

You continued to cry, now your tears staining his suit, not being able to hold back your tears anymore. He continuously whispered sweet-nothings into your ears as he patted your back and caressed your hair.

"Was this why you were ignoring me?" you asked, voice cracking at the last few words. Oh man, Sunoo wanted to slap himself for breaking your heart and making you cry like this. He quickly leaned back and cupped your face, "Yes.. I wanted to surprise you and make you really happy, but I didn't expect you to be over me not responding. I'm sorry, okay, baby?". He pecked your forehead, and looked at you with such a reaussuring gaze.

You finally looked at him, eye-to-eye, and you noticed how handsome he looked today. The way his hair was nicely slicked back, eyes looking genuinely worried for you, and you melted into his gaze. With your free hand, you caressed his cheek and finally smiled.

"There's the smile I love so much." he grinned, a pink tint on his cheeks showing.

"I got you a gift, mind if I show you?" he asked, raising his eyebrows, signalling if it was okay for him to pull away, and you nodded "Not at all, what is it?".

He grinned and stood back from you, walking towards the other side of your bed and picking up a box that was blocked in your view. As you watched him, you look at the bouquet of roses he gave you and smiled, placing it down on the table near you afterwards. He walked back to you, holding the box with both hands, and he handed it to you.

"What's inside, hmm? I wonder what it could be!" you said, your heart currently feeling so ecstatic at the moment. You opened the box and is met with a variety of things.

The first thing you pulled out was a digital camera that looked brand new, and you looked at Sunoo with shock.

"Is this the digital camera I wanted?!" you asked, feeling completely excited. He nodded and you continue, "But isn't it $300?!". Your eyebrows furrowed, worried about the cost.

He shook his head, "Nothing is too expensive when it comes to you."

You pouted your lips, melting at his words as you place the digital camera box inside the box and took out the next thing.

A stack of polaroids that were joined compiled together by a rubber band. You placed the box on the table that also had the bouquet and removed the rubber band, seeing all the polaroids.

The first polaroid was of you when you and him had gone out to study with a group of friends. You didn't even know he took a photo of you.

Second polaroid was of you studying when you went to the library to study with him and a few others

Third.. fourth.. fifth.. and it went up to a 10th.

The 10th one was a polaroid of you at the cafe, when you and him had agreed to hang out alone. You remembered it clearly, he asked to take a photo of you on his polaroid camera, and you shyly smiled at the memory. The 10th one had permenant marker writing at the bottom, and it wrote "The moment I knew I was in love with you."

You gasp and you looked at him. When you and him had went out that day, it was 2 years ago. He had been in love with you for so long?

You tied a rubber band around the stack of polaroids and placed it back into the box, and now the last thing was.. mail. A lot of it. You questioned Sunoo, "What's all of this?".

He shyly smiled, scratching his neck, "I wrote a love letter for you every single time I couldn't stop thinking about you." Your jaw dropped again, and you looked inside, realising the insane amount of letters inside. You could easily say there was 10, no, 25, maybe even 50. That is insane.

"I hand-made all those flowers in the bouquet, y'know?" he smiled, fidgeting with his hands, feeling worried you wouldn't like it. You whined out, your heart melting at him and feeling so happy

"I love it, Sun, I love all of it." you cried out, feeling emotional. Upon hearing your words, his face lit up, and he immediately brought you into an embrace.

Sunoo cleared his throat, before asking the big question, "Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?".

You smiled at him, feeling so emotional that the boy your heart has been yearning for was finally asking you out, and even reciprocaiting your feelings.

"Yes, Sun, of course!" you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him for a kiss.

You were kissing him for the first time, and his lips felt so soft, so gentle. He held your head oh-so gently, and he was tilting his head to be able to gain more access. The way you two were moving in such a rhythmatically way showed the chemistry between you two, and you wanted time to just stop right here. Your heart was rapidly beating, and you felt like it could explode any moment. You felt so joyful, cheerful, delighted, elated, jubilant, ecstatic, all the snynonyms for happy. There were no words spoken, but it was so clear how much the two of you yearned for each other. The warmth you felt was like no other.

After a long minute, you slowly pulled back. Resting your forehead on his and looking right into his eyes, you smiled, "Sun, I love you so much."

He chuckled and replied, "I love you too."

[javier-pena]

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Word Count: 3.9k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You fuck up. Javi helps you to make it up to Katie.

Warnings: established polyamorous relationship (and navigating what this means) | allusions to homophobia | a little bit of negative self-talk | a tiny bit of internalized homophobia | voyeurism | oral (f receiving) | masturbation (m) | exhibitionism | fingering (f receiving) | a little bit of dirty talk | praise kink | cum-play (in a blink and you’ll miss it kind of way)

Notes: And we're continuing with my 10k follower celebration fics!!! A very sweet anon requested "I would love to spoil you, can I do this for you?", "You're still holding back, let go" and "You're not my dirty little secret. And I never want you to think that", set in the Triumvirate Universe. And honestly at this point there isn't much left to say about Triumvirate that I haven't already said expect that writing about them brings me so much joy!!!!! I love you for requesting this, my beloved anon!!!!!! Shoutout to Dani @alexturner who reacted with 🥺 to one of the lines in this, so I guess it might be slightly emotional 🤭

***

It’s quiet in the early hours of the morning, as quiet as it gets in a city where millions of people share the same space. Usually, this is your favorite time of the day – you love to sit with your thoughts for a while, to read a book or to listen to a record, the volume turned low so you won’t disturb Javi and Katie. Eventually, one of them always joins you, or you hear them in the kitchen making breakfast.

Today, you dread the moment you’ll hear movement in another part of the apartment. Your heart is heavy with the kind of grief that only comes with knowing you made a mistake that can’t be fixed. Nothing can distract you – no book holds your attention for long, you’re scared of spoiling your favorite songs by listening to them when you feel like this. All you can do is sit on the leather couch, the material sticky against your skin, and turn yesterday’s events over and over in your mind, cursing yourself because you’re never brave enough. Why can’t you be brave just once, for the people that matter the most to you?

Eventually, you hear the bedroom door creak open and then shut quietly. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what’s to come. Do you want Javi or Katie to be the one coming down the hallway? If you could choose, you’d prefer neither of them but Katie would be indefinitely worse; you’re not ready to face her hurt and disappointment. You had enough of that last night.

Javi is the one who walks into the living room, yawning and scratching his chin. He’s naked apart from short boxer briefs that cling to him in a way that usually makes your mouth water. Today, you avert your gaze, hoping against hope he won’t see you sitting there. It’s no use.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice quiet so he doesn’t wake Katie.

You shake your head and angrily wipe at your cheeks, only now realizing that you’re crying. “Nothing.” Your voice is heavy with tears.

“Hey.” Javi rushes over to pull you into a hug. You let him, even though it makes your heart squeeze painfully.

Javi doesn’t push you to tell him the truth, he just holds you close and waits, soothing you by running his hand up and down your back. He smells of sleep, and faintly of sweat, and he smells like Javi, a scent that is so familiar to you that it has become a part of who you are. You don’t know what would happen to you if you ever were to lose it.

Eventually, you pull yourself out of the hug and look down at your hands resting in your lap. “I think she hates me after what I did to her yesterday.”

“No,” Javi contradicts you immediately, “Katie could never hate you.”

You see that look on her face again, full of hurt and heartbreak after you pulled your hand out of hers to move closer to Javi. You remember how she barely looked at you when you got home, let alone spoke to you. “Did you notice how she immediately turned away from me last night in bed?”

Javi pulls a face that’s impossible to read, even though you know him so well. “She’s hurt. I can understand why. She wants things that you can’t give her, things that might … And I understand you too,” he adds quickly as you feel your heart sink from your chest into the pit of your stomach. “You’re afraid to hold her hand in public. It’s –”

You interrupt him. “It’s not that.” It is that, at least partly. “People know we’re together. What if they see you and Katie together? What if they see me and her?”

“It was never a problem when it was just a casual thing we did once in a while,” Javi deadpans.

You pause, carefully considering his words. “Because there was no danger of losing either of you,” you finally answer.

Javi laughs, the bright sound filling the living room that’s full of bright morning light. “Yes, there was. There always is. Oh, baby.” He puts one arm around your shoulders. “You have to stop worrying so much about what other people think.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“No, it’s not.” Javi squeezes your shoulder. “One wrong step could get me fired. Or killed. But us three, we have to trust each other. If you talked to Katie and told her how you felt, I’m sure she’d understand.”

You lean forward and bury your face in your hands. “How can I ever make it up to her?”

Javi shrugs. “Just tell her you’re sorry.”

You sigh, your chest heaving. “I don’t know how.” You still have no idea how to navigate this, although by now you feel like you should. Javi and Katie don’t seem to be having any issues with your situation. Why is this so hard for you?

“Then show her you’re sorry,” Javi suggests.

Now it’s your turn to laugh, and the sound comes out a little bit strangled. That’s Javi’s way of doing things. And you don’t mind … you don’t mind at all when he’s on his knees, his head buried between your legs, licking and kissing you until you’ve forgotten why you were mad at him in the first place.

“That’s your forte, not mine,” you point out.

You don’t know what you expect Javi to reply to that, but him smiling softly down at you isn’t it. “She loves you,” he reminds you. “Whatever you do will be enough.”

Javi takes your hand and pulls you off the couch, and you follow him even though your heart is hammering in your chest. You’ve never been good at apologies, so you’re trying to live your whole life avoiding any situation that would force you to give one. And still you fucked this up. If you said those things out loud, Javi would only smile again and give you the standard answer. “We all make mistakes.” Then why are the mistakes others make so easily forgiven and forgotten while you wear yours like a brand on your skin?

Javi stops in the doorway to your bedroom and pulls you to his side. Katie is still asleep, stretched out over half the bed, one of her hands reaching out as if she’s looking to touch either of you. You love that about her, the way she wears her heart on her sleeve, never afraid to fight for the people she loves. You wish you could be more like her; you wouldn’t be in this situation if you were.

“Look at her,” Javi whispers into your ear.

You do. You see her dark curls, her tanned skin, the cluster of freckles on her right shoulder, like a constellation of stars pointing you home. Maybe she has already forgiven you because she loves you, just like Javi thinks, but even if she hasn’t, you want to do whatever is necessary to earn her forgiveness. Because you lo love her.

Katie stirs, yawns, her eyes still closed, and it feels as if a hand wraps around your heart and squeezes it tightly. You yearn to be with her, yearn to feel her skin against yours, her lips on your lips, to open yourself up to her until there is nothing left for her to learn about you. Just as you did with Javi and Javi did with you.

“Go to her,” Javi whispers then, and releases you.

On unsteady legs, you walk toward the bed that was yours long before it was hers, but that can never be complete without her in it, and climb into it on her left side, careful not to wake her but eager for her to open her eyes. You run your hand up and down her naked back and kiss her temple, her cheeks, her closed eyelids.

She doesn’t push you away, like you were scared she might do. Instead, she asks, “What are you doing?” her voice heavy with sleep.

You glance at Javi who is still standing in the doorway. He nods. “I would love to spoil you. Can I do that for you?”

Katie stiffens beneath your hand and it takes everything in you not to pull back and run for cover. Your heart clenches again, painfully, and you brace yourself for the inevitable rejection. But you stay, trying to breathe as evenly as possible, almost daring Katie to start the fight she so desperately seems to want to have with you.

Katie opens her eyes and looks for yours, and you hold her gaze, ready for whatever she is about to say to you. But there is no hurt in her eyes anymore, no fire, no guardedness. She looks curious, almost mischievous instead, and finally, she nods.

You don’t give your body time to respond to that nod, to let relief wash all over you. Instead, you trap her chin between your thumb and forefinger and kiss her like you’ve been thinking about doing ever since you saw her lying in bed, completely unguarded. She kisses you back, eagerly parting your lips to let you in, almost as if your fight never happened. Nothing seems to have changed, and you don’t quite know why, but you push those thoughts out of your mind. This isn’t about you. This is about Katie.

You pull the thin cover off Katie and hungrily let your gaze wander over her naked body. She rolls onto her back and bites her lip, waiting for you to decide what to do with her. You start by kissing her neck (she giggles), the top of her breasts (she holds her breath), the peaks of her hard nipples (she gasps), and you run your hands all over her body, wherever you can reach, eager to leave no spot untouched. She laughs airily, surprised by your enthusiasm. You laugh too, surprised by how easy she’s making this for you.

You suck one of Katie’s nipples into your mouth and she moans, a hoarse little sound. Your gaze flickers to Javi to see his reaction to it, but he is still standing where you left him, motionless. You only find approval on his face and that, paired with the way Katie’s hands dig into the skin of your arm, tells you you’re doing this right.

Eventually, Javi moves and your heart skips a beat. You didn’t ask him what his plans were, whether he wanted to join Katie and you or whether he wanted to make this about you and her, but you had been hoping he’d be there with you. He stands at the foot of the bed at first, a quiet smile on his lips, then pulls his boxer shorts down. You have to turn your head at an awkward angle to see he’s half hard, and Katie immediately notices she doesn’t have your full attention anymore.

“Hey!” she snaps and grips your jaw. “Eyes on me.”

In the past, you would have felt embarrassed at how loudly you moan in response, but there are no secrets between the three of you anymore. All your desires have been laid open a long time ago. And this morning the only thing you desire is to give Katie anything she wants, anything at all.

You feel the mattress dip as Javi climbs into bed next to you and leans over to give Katie a good morning kiss. They both have their eyes closed, and Katie’s hand finds its way into Javi’s curls. Your heart finds its way into your throat and gets stuck there, just as it always does when you see Katie and Javi kiss. That’s another desire you’ve come to terms with, one that you wear proudly on your sleeve, like one might wear a wedding band on the fourth finger of the left hand or a scar that says, I went through terrible things, but I’m still here. I made it out alive. And you love to watch Katie and Javi together, love to see her writhe beneath him, love to see him lose his mind when she has her mouth wrapped around him. You love that they want you to be a part of it all too, love that they need you to be there.

Javi runs his thumb along Katie’s cheekbone and Katie’s eyes flutter open. “Do you want her to eat you out?” he asks.

Katie’s eyes land on you, glazed over with lust. Her cheeks are flushed now, and when your eyes flicker to her throat, you can see her eagerly fluttering heartbeat beneath her skin, like something trying to free itself, trying to lay itself bare hoping it won’t get crushed. Katie bites her bottom lip (you love it when she does that, you should really tell her that more often) and nods eagerly. You smile in response, then slap Javi’s arm playfully.

“Don’t interfere,” you tell him off, ignoring the eager pull in the pit of your stomach that comes with imagining tasting Katie on your lips. “This is my apology.”

Still, all three of you know how this is going to end, so there’s no need to pretend. You scoot down Katie’s body, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your wake, until you kneel between her spread legs. It’s one of your favorite sights – Katie all open and vulnerable, just for you. The high you get from that is unrivaled.

Katie props herself up on her elbows, her long hair tumbling down her beautiful shoulders. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Shhh, don’t talk,” you tell her, and dip your head down between her legs.

You lick a broad stripe from her opening all the way up to her clit, the taste of her a million times more intoxicating than you had imagined. You let out a groan against her at the same time as she falls back down against the pillow with a sharp exhale. She shifts beneath you, spreading her legs even wider, pushing her hips up into your mouth ever so slightly.

You move up her body again even though your own screams for you to stay where you are and devour her whole. You kiss the soft plane of her stomach, that one birthmark next to her belly button that you love so much, and then you make your way up to her breasts, cupping one and licking across the hard nipple. Katie lets out a soft whimper that makes your heart clench.

You don’t know what makes you look away from Katie and over to Javi, but something must have and what you see makes you clench around nothing, your hips eagerly rocking forward. He’s stroking himself slowly, almost casually, drawing out his own satisfaction, watching the two of you. That’s also something you love – him watching Katie and you, not being shy about the pleasure he gets from it; sometimes he even asks you to put on a little show for him, and you and Katie love doing that because you know it’s not just about the sex for him. He loves to watch the two women he loves fuck each other.

Javi smirks at you, and you pull your mouth off Katie’s nipple with a wet pop, ready to tease him, when she begs, her voice all broken and quivering. “Stop teasing me.”

Your attention snaps right back to her and you kiss her wet nipple. “That’s teasing for you?”

Katie grips the back of your neck, her nails raking your skin. “I thought you wanted to apologize.”

You laugh, but it doesn’t come out all nonchalantly as you had hoped it would. “I said I wanted to take care of you.”

Katie’s eyes are bright with fire that’s impossible to get under control as she considers calling you out on your lie. She pushes up her hips. “Take care of this then.”

When you laugh again, it’s a sound full of relief. Maybe Katie isn’t as angry with you as you had feared. Maybe this can be fixed just as easily as it was almost ruined. You certainly want to try.

You move back down and come to rest between Katie’s legs. She’s glistening with arousal, a sight so inviting you can’t help yourself. You run your fingers through her drenched folds before you push two of them inside, holding her down when she tries to lift her hips to meet your thrust.

“You’re so wet, do you know that?” you ask, your voice deep and hoarse.

Katie props herself up on her elbows again and nods.

“I love it when you’re like this,” you go on, “and I know it’s all because of me. I love how eager you are for me to touch you. I love that you can’t get enough of this.” You curl your fingers and hit that spot that makes Katie’s legs quiver.

You kiss the inside of her knee, her thigh, that little spot just above where she wants your tongue the most. Never once do you stop fucking her with her fingers in a steady rhythm, giving her just enough to build pleasure but never enough to make it all come crashing down. By now, you know her body well enough to do that.

“Please,” Katie whispers, and you can never refuse her anything when her voice sounds like that.

You flick her clit with the tip of your tongue, then massage it gently before sucking it in between your lips, making Kaite moan so loudly you’re sure your neighbors must have heard. You look up at her to find her watching you with wide eyes, her chest and neck covered in a deep, red flush, her mouth hanging open in an attempt to get more air into her lungs, but her shallow breathing tells you she’s failing. Her eyelids flutter when you suck on her clit again, but she keeps them open, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

You pick up a steady pace with your tongue and your fingers, and your eyes wander over to Javi. He’s still watching you, still stroking his now very hard cock in time to your steady licks. You slow down and he matches your pace, you speed up again and he keeps up. He tries to smirk at you, but you flick Katie’s clit with your tongue again, and her responding moan makes his jaw go slack and his eyes flutter shut. You can’t quite describe what you feel, but it sure feels like you’re on top of the world.

You kiss Katie everywhere – her thighs, her soft folds, her clit, her stomach, even her wrist when she reaches out to grab for you. You kiss her everywhere she will allow. Her breathing comes in sharp pants now, and when you lick her sloppily, hungrily, it turns deeper and deeper, sounds you feel in your chest right next to your heart. You move lower, lick across her opening, push the tip of your tongue inside of her, but when you glance up at her, she’s still watching you with her wide eyes.

Javi notices it too: the way Katie still tries to hold on, as if she’s scared of what a loss of control might mean for her. “You’re still holding back. Just let go.” His voice is strained, like he’s doing the same, like he’s postponing his own pleasure for the sake of hers.

Katie’s eyes flicker to you and she blinks slowly, as if she’s only now remembering his presence. Javi doesn’t allow her even a single second to make sense of it all. Instead, he kisses her, slowly, languidly, as if you’re only just getting started. Katie doesn’t move at first, stops breathing all together, and then finally – finally! – she sinks down against her pillow, closing her eyes.

You pull back with a shaky breath, watch as Katie reaches out for Javi, as she grips a handful of his curls, and holds on. Javi growls against her mouth and deepens their kiss, still moving his hand up and down his cock, leaving a wet spot on Katie’s side where the tip brushes her skin. You want nothing more than to watch them, but your bad conscience still gnaws at you, and you decide that Katie has been played with long enough. Without pretense, you push your two fingers back into her and soak up her desperate whimper like a desert soaks up the rain. She clenches around you when you roll her clit under the tip of your tongue and that involuntary response to you makes you moan against her drenched folds.

“I love how you taste in the morning,” you tell her, and she clenches again, signaling you that she heard you. “It’s my favorite taste in the whole wide world.”

Javi’s breathing becomes ragged and he lets out a deep moan, a drawn-out sound that suddenly hitches. You glance up at him and see that he’s coming, thick ropes spilling onto his stomach and Katie’s, his hips bucking up into his fist. Your face grows hot as you watch him, hot with shame at how hard your pussy clenches, eager for him to fill you up.

You don’t get to enjoy that sight, that feeling it gives you, for long though. Katie lets out a gasp and presses her palm to the back of your head, hard, pushing your face down between her legs while rolling up her hips into it. She clenches and clenches and clenches around your fingers and you fuck her through it, unable to draw a single breath as she rides out her orgasm, gushing around your fingers and onto your chin and tongue. Her ragged pants fill up the entire room, pushing all of the air out of it.

When it’s all over, you wipe the back of your hand over your mouth, your heart hammering in your chest. Javi lazily runs his fingers through the mess he’s made on Katie, while she just lies there, eyes closed, her chest heaving. You push yourself in between them, crawling on all fours, until you let yourself fall, facing Javi. You kiss him, and he kisses you back, taking his time to run his tongue over your lips, your chin held tightly between his thumb and forefinger. You know how much he loves that, tasting one of you on the other.

Eventually, Katie curls herself up against your back and you turn so you face her, while Javi places gentle kisses against your neck and shoulders, and whispers, “Well done,” into your ear, so low only you can hear it. Something in your chest expands at that.

You cup Katie’s face and she opens her eyes, her gaze bright. Gently, you wipe away a stray tear making its way down her face. “You’re not my dirty little secret,” you whisper against her lips, your eyes locked onto her face, making sure she understands what you’re trying to tell her. “And I never want you to think that.”

Katie smiles one of her open smiles that always announces to the whole world what she’s feeling, then kisses you, ending it with a quick nip to your bottom lip before you have time to enjoy it.

“Tease,” you mumble at the same time as she says, “I love you.”

It’s strange how easy it can be sometimes. “I love you too,” you reply.

[nonotnolan]

Rookie Mistake

“Yeah, I realized the other day that, like... I’ve spent the last five Sunday afternoons, like, completely blacked out,” he said, rubbing his hands as he spoke.  Dave, our next door neighbor, was telling my mother why he didn’t host his normal Saturday night party yesterday.  I had to admit I was not expecting that answer.  “I didn’t even think I had been drinking that much, but like... why else would that happen, y’know?"

Well, I knew exactly why he had been blacked out the past five Sundays-- I’d been using the spellbook I found in the attic to slip into his smoking hot body.  Look at his chest, can you blame me?  Dude has shoulders for days.  I’d hop into his body when my mom and her husband went out on their date night, and then I would download Grindr to score a few casual hookups with some eager twinks.  Being home from college over the summer sucked, and Dave’s body helped make it suck less.  It was a victimless crime-- or so I had thought.  

Honestly, I hadn’t even thought about what Dave would remember whenever I hopped into his body.  Total rookie mistake, but it could have been a lot worse.  As long as I stayed out of his body, his blackouts would stop, and no one would be any the wiser.  Dave excused himself and went back inside his house, while Mom and I finished up bringing the groceries inside.  Hopefully I didn’t look too guilty.

I took the spellbook down off my shelf, and pulled up Google translate again-- the damn thing was written in Latin.  The good news is that all of the spells were illustrated, so it was usually pretty clear what each spell would do.  The bad news is that a lot of the rules were written in small, cursive handwriting that the computer couldn’t read when photographed.  I was making decent headway translating word by word, but it was... tedious, to say the least.  Can you blame me for getting impatient?

The astral form spell I’d been using to possess Dave hadn’t said anything about memory loss, but I had also stopped translating after three paragraphs.  I’d already learned the important pieces, or so I had thought.  You can’t travel more than a quarter mile away from your body without risking permanent separation, your astral form could be blocked by wards or captured by soul snares, whatever the hell those were... and then the spell started talking about how it was really good for spying on your enemies.  Wouldn’t something like target memory loss be important enough to mention earlier?  I was livid, but it was ultimately my mistake for using a spell that I hadn’t fully translated.

I’d only made it through another half-paragraph before I got interrupted by a knock on my door.  “Sweetie, I just wanted to let you know that it’s just me going out tonight,” Mom said.  “Henry isn’t feeling well, so he’s going to stay behind and rest up, okay?  I know I don’t have to worry about you staying quiet for him while he sleeps.  See you tonight!”

I could scarcely maintain my excitement as I waited for the sound of my mother locking the front door.  Henry, my step-father, was a delicious otter of a man.  I hadn’t even considered the thought of taking over his body, but how could I resist an opportunity handed to me on such a silver platter?  And if he was planning on sleeping anyway, the memory loss issue didn’t matter!  Translating the rest of the spell could wait, I needed to seize this opportunity before it slipped away.  I made sure to clear off my bed, and position myself in a neutral posture before casting the spell-- the first time I used the spell and returned to my body, the crick in my neck took three days to fully heal.  Once my astral form had separated itself from my body, I flew as fast as I could to Henry’s sleeping form.

After all... just look at this man.  Henry is... he’s like gay candy.  Any time the three of us go out together, I don’t think he realizes how many skinny dudes can’t look away from him.  And for the next few hours, that would be me.  God, it was such a rush to think about that.  Can you blame me for getting excited?  Aside from the occasional dress pant, Henry never really wore anything that would display his bulge, so I wasn’t sure what sort of equipment I would be working with, but... now that it was in my hands, I was not disappointed.  So that was a ten minute detour.  I’m only human, after all.

My next order of business was to take some raunchy selfies and send them to my phone for some, uhh... future me time.  The problem was that the only rooms in the house with good lighting were also the rooms where Mom had already redecorated Henry’s house with floral wallpaper.  Seeing that in the background was just a total boner kill.  I’d have to use my room for photos.  I try to avoid seeing my lifeless body whenever I can-- it’s kind of unsettling-- but in this case, it was worth the discomfort.

I figured Henry’s strength would be more than enough to carry my body down to the living room couch, only... when I opened my door, the bed was empty.  The pit of my stomach sank to the floor as I stared at the impression in my bed sheets, the only remaining sign that my body had previously been resting there.  I started taking deep breaths, running my hands across my new chest fur as I tried to calm down.  If the astral form spell was going to cause my body to disappear, it would have happened before today.  The first step was probably to search the rest of the house, just in case anything else had been displaced.

I found my body outside, shirtless, smoking a cigarette on the patio.  He had to have heard me-- I certainly wasn’t quiet as I flung upon the back door-- but he didn’t even bother to look up at me.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my body?” I said, trying to puff out Henry’s chest for maximum intimidation.

My body responded by blowing a cloud of smoke into my face.  “Get over yourself,” he said, taking another long drag.  “You grabbed my spellbook out of my attic, turned the next door neighbor into a meat suit, and now you have the gall to pretend that you’re the victim here?”

I tried to think of some sort of witty comeback, but my brain had completely frozen up.  “I... Henry?  Is that you in there?  What are you doing?”

“Watching you fall for the world’s most obvious trap,” he said, lording over me with a smug grin on his face.  He had me dead to rights, and we both knew it.  “Your mother hadn’t even finished pulling out of the driveway, and your horny ass was already trying to take over my body.  Good thing I had already started my own astral form before she left.  Mind you, I have ways of keeping unwanted spirits out of my body... but then we wouldn’t be having this delightful conversation, would we?

“Consider yourself busted,” he said, snuffing out the cigarette on the patio table.  “You’re going to spend the night here, pretending to be me while keeping to yourself under the guise of feeling sick.  I’m going to take your body out for a joyride tonight, same as you did to Dave.  We’ll switch back in the morning.  No funny business, or you’ll learn first hand why I no longer need to use a spellbook to cast magic.”

“Y-yes, sir,” I said, nodding my head.  Seeing Henry inside of my lanky body with his arms crossed, it looked catty rather than intimidating.  All the same, I was not about to try and mess with him any further.  Better to take the L here.  “Hey, uhh... after tonight’s punishment... do you... do you think you could teach me how to use that spellbook?”

Henry paused, sizing me up and down with his eyes before speaking.  “Me, teaching you?  After a rookie mistake like this?  Not on your life.”