#thank you kay!! sorry these took so long

[piratekane]

(rated m for mature)

Ava’s room is the last sacred space in their apartment. A room that belongs to Ava, and Ava only. The living room is shared space, of course. Their breakfast bar holds both of their tea mugs: Ava’s in the shape of a bulldog holding a bone, her own a dark gray and white plaid pattern. The bathroom has a small stand with both of their toothbrushes and two face cloths on small hooks, one on each side of the sink. The face of the kitchen refrigerator is littered with pictures and ticket stubs and small post-it-note drawings they’ve both accumulated over the last few months.

We exist, Beatrice, Ava likes to tell her. If we died and someone came to pack us up, they would know we both existed here.

It’s a morbid thought, but it rotates in her mind for days afterwards. They exist. They exist together, in this shared space. There’s two of everything - a testament to a life shared between two people who found comfort in each other. Who found a home. Their shoes are by the front door, their bills are on the counter, their sweaters tangle into knots on the couch where they dare cross the line Beatrice has drawn between them.

Ava’s room is a line. She doesn’t cross it. She lets their shared existence fill every corner of the apartment except for Ava’s bedroom. She’s never crossed the threshold. Even on the day Ava moved in, she dutifully passed her boxes from the living room, marveling at the idea that one person who existed in a single dorm room for a handful of months could accumulate so many things.

She’s not sure that Ava even noticed. If she did, she didn’t say anything about it. Because she’s kind and takes Beatrice’s actions into consideration with the sort of care no one else in her life has ever shown.

But that’s par for the course. Ava is unlike anyone else in her life.

It’s why Beatrice is so careful. She’s gotten used to having this unusual, perfect thing in her life. She’s gripping it tightly with two hands, firm enough to keep it in one place but soft enough that it doesn’t break. It took her years to learn that grip and only a month with Ava to master it in a whole new way.

She should know by now, after seven months, that being careful around Ava is never careful enough.

“Blue or green?” she hears Ava call from inside her room.

Beatrice sighs, resting her pencil tip against the page she’s taking notes on. “Ava.”

Ava’s head pops around the doorframe. She’s smiling in a way a younger Beatrice would have called dashing or roguish. It’s charming. Infuriatingly so. Ava knows it—has never forgotten it since the time Camila said it out loud one night when Ava convinced them to try roller skating at some wooden rink nearby. That smile is a weapon, a carefully drawn bow whose range Beatrice can never escape from.

“Blue or green?” she repeats.

“I’m afraid I need a bit of context, Ava.”

Beatrice resists the urge to rub tiredly at the space between her eyes. Finals week is upon them. She’s prepared - has been preparing all semester - but then her Early Christian Women’s professor gave her some last minute feedback to restructure her entire research paper. It’s left her molded to the stool at the breakfast bar for the last three days, the entire top of it covered in color-coded index cards and texts she’s expressly forbid Ava from going anywhere near.

Ava pinky promised that she would listen. Beatrice would have accepted a confident “okay,” but Ava had taken it a step further, tightening her grip on Beatrice’s pinky and pulling her whole hand up to her mouth as Ava kissed her own fist, eyes on Beatrice the whole time.

“There. Now it’s really a promise.”

Beatrice thinks maybe she didn’t have enough friends growing up. Or that she didn’t have enough friends like Ava growing up. Because she’d never heard of this particular kind of promise. Shannon had made a face when Beatrice asked her about it. No, I’m not making fun of you, Shannon assured her. I just mean… Bea. Come on.

Beatrice does not come on, but the next time Ava makes her promise she won’t throw all her sources out the window and develop a list of new ones, she quickly presses her lips to the outside of her own hand, eyes darting to Ava’s face. Just as a test. Just to see if she’s doing this right.

She must have. Ava beamed for hours.

“Blue paint or green paint?” Ava expands.

“For what?”

Ava extends her arm past the doorway into Beatrice’s view. A small bucket of paint, hardly larger than a box of baking soda, dangles from her fingers.

She holds back the long-suffering sigh building in her chest. “Ava.”

“I’m painting my room.”

“You’re-” Beatrice turns, notecard on Thecla abandoned. “You’re painting your room?”

Ava frowns at her like she’s the one who just announced that she’s completing a home makeover project. “I told you this.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.” Ava’s arm drops to her side, and she leans a little further around the doorway.

Beatrice shakes her head. “You most certainly did not. Because I would have remembered that.”

“You can’t remember everything I say.”

I do. The thought nearly makes its way to Beatrice’s tongue, but she bites it back. She certainly can’t admit that, though she thinks Ava would, if she was in her position. Ava has always been more free in her words, in her certainty.

“I would have remembered this,” she repeats.

Ava shakes her head. “I definitely told you I was doing this. I asked if you wanted to go pick out-”

Her forehead wrinkles into a frown that Beatrice immediately wants to smooth away. She can feel Ava’s skin under her fingertips, warm and soft. She blinks.

“Huh. Maybe I mentioned it to Mary, now that I think about it.” Her face brightens without Beatrice’s help. “I guess I’m telling you now.”

“You can’t- You can’t paint your room.”

Ava nods like she understands. “I can’t paint it alone, no. I’ll need help. Oh! A paint party!”

“No, I mean-” Beatrice takes a deep breath. “We would lose our security deposit if you paint the walls. It’s in our rental agreement.”

That doesn’t seem to bother Ava. “We can just paint it back when we move out. Or if we never do, then no one will ever know.”

If we never do. The words are like a lightning bolt in her chest. If we never do implies that Ava has thought about living with her indefinitely. That Ava has considered the possibility of a future where they're still in each other’s lives, where they’re still living in this same apartment doing the same things together. Movie nights and take out and reading while Ava watches something on TV, and talking about the few hours they spent apart and deciding where to take weekend trips and what new household decoration Ava is going to talk her into.

Their life in shared spaces, for everyone who visits to see.

Forever roommates.

The thought is too overwhelming for her to breathe properly.

“So, will you help me pick a color?” Ava continues on as if Beatrice isn’t slowly burning from the inside out. “I’m thinking green. Blue seems more like your color. Hey! We can paint your room next.”

Beatrice shakes her head. “Ava, no.”

Ava either doesn’t hear her, or pays her no mind. “I got this cool mint color. It looks like mint chocolate chip ice cream!”

“Mint,” she repeats, voice strangled.

Ava beams. “It looks like our toothpaste.”

Dread washes over her, as cold as ice cream out of the freezer against her tongue. Their toothpaste is a frightfully minty green color that always catches Beatrice off guard no matter how many times a day she’s brushed her teeth, even after the ;five months since Ava started buying it. It’s a sickly green, almost. Certainly not something that should be on a wall, let alone four of them. Ava’s room would glow, practically radioactive.

“No,” she insists. “Not that color.”

“Come see it. Then you’ll understand.”

She moves without meaning to, without giving much thought to it. Ava calls like a siren, and she swims out to meet her. She gets as far as the couch before the water comes up to her chin and she stops again.

“I don’t think you should paint your room.”

Ava waves away her concern. “It’ll be fine. The whole room is just so… white. We need a little color in our lives, Bea. A little bit of… spice.”

“A little bit of spice.”

“You know. Excitement.” Ava is firmly in the doorway now, paint can hanging at her side. “We can’t live with white walls forever.”

Why not? she wants to ask. She grew up with white walls. Pristine ones. Washed down every week by their housekeeper. Sanitized. She pauses. Ava might have a point.

But their landlord would not approve of it. And Beatrice intends to stick by the rules. She opens her mouth to say so, but Ava cuts her off.

“Come here. Just have a look.” She pads forward on bare feet and curls her fingers around Beatrice’s wrist, tugging her forward gently enough that Beatrice could step back, break their connection if she needed to.

She doesn’t. Not yet.

But she gets closer and closer to Ava’s doorway, to the raised threshold that separates her from this last sacred space. Ava is stepping back over it, eyes on Beatrice, and then her toes are bumping against it and she stops. Their arms stretch between them for a moment before Ava catches up and steps forward so they hang loosely again.

Ava waits for her. Always waiting for her. It’s not fair, she thinks. It’s not fair that she’s always waiting for me.

“So, I have something to admit,” Ava says slowly, pulling her out of her head. She’s smiling sheepishly, her head ducked a little as she searches Beatrice’s face. “I might have already painted a few swatches on the wall.”

“Ava.”

“Just a few,” she rushes on. “Small ones. Like, the size of a book. A small one! I’m sorry, I just wanted to see what they looked like.” She strokes her thumb over Beatrice’s wrist. “The mint kind of looks horrible,” she admits.

Beatrice fights that never-ending sigh again. “Of course it does.”

“But the other green looks good! It’s kind of turquoise-y, actually.” Ava’s forehead wrinkles into a frown that lingers for just a second. “Greener than a normal turquoise, though. Almost like the sea. Like - okay, just look.”

Ava’s hand falls away, and she takes a step back into her room. She’s looking at the wall, eyes moving quickly over what Beatrice assumes is the paint swatches she’s done there.

She eases her weight onto the ball of her foot. The floorboard creaks under it. Ava is still looking at the wall, still studying her choices. Beatrice feels a ripple of fear race through her. It’s just a room. Their apartment is made up of rooms. But it’s Ava’s room. Opening this door, crossing this line - she’s not sure she can come back from that.

Ava meets her eyes again and tips her head in that effortlessly endearing way, a soft smile on her face that immediately ebbs the fear away. Ava crooks a finger in her direction, beckoning her forward. It’s like a piece of string loops its way around Beatrice’s wrist and it pulls.

“You’re going to like the turquoise,” Ava says just quietly enough for Beatrice to hear. Another siren’s call.

She’s a strong swimmer. She can survive this. Her toes brush the raised threshold, and then they’re curled over the other side of it as her shoulders breach the doorway. The air shifts. She feels a little lightheaded. The lights seem dimmed, lowered. She holds her breath and waits for God to strike her down, and when nothing happens, she silently exhales a thin stream of air.

She doesn’t go further than that. Her body doesn’t seem to want to move past the invisible line that goes from the ceiling down directly to the floor. Her eyes immediately go to the wall Ava was looking at.

She was correct. The mint looks horrible.

“I know,” Ava says, reading her mind. “It looked a lot better at the store. Maybe it’s the light?”

It takes Beatrice a minute to reply, almost as if the words were a trade for tipping forward into Ava’s room. “I don’t think different lighting is going to help this.”

Ava studies it for another moment before she nods decisively. “You’re right. But what about this green-turquoise?” She moves and touches her finger to the wall. It comes back with a sticky greenish color. She frowns at it. “Huh. Thought it’d dry.”

“I like it,” Beatrice allows. “But Ava-”

“I promise we’ll paint it back. I just…” Ava stops, running a hand through her hair. She leaves behind a smudge of turquoise on her forehead, disappearing into her hair. “It’ll be easy to paint back. Please, Bea?” She clasps her hand in front of her, holding them to her chest. “Pleeeease?”

They both realize she’s going to give in at the same moment. Beatrice didn’t think she had any tells, has always prided herself on being someone fully in control of their actions, emotions, and facial expressions. Lessons learned from her parents that she actually appreciated. Expressive got you in trouble, gave too much away. She spent years tightening up to prevent anyone from knowing too much.

Ava does not carry the same burden. And Ava, it appears, has learned to recognize when Beatrice is on the cusp of expressing too much, of giving in. Maybe she’s giving it away in the quick pull of the corner of her mouth. Maybe there’s something in her eyes, a flicker of acceptance. Maybe she clenches her hand into a fist, a small flex of her muscles. Maybe she shifts her weight. Maybe she blinks too many times.

Whatever it is, Ava sees it in her. And she grins, the light in the room becoming impossibly brighter.

“I want nothing to do with this,” is what she decides to say.

Ava claps her hands together. “You won’t regret this.”

“I’m sure I will.”

It doesn’t dim Ava’s smile. “When I’m done, you’ll see how much it brings this place to life. And then we talk about your room. And the living room! Oh, and wouldn’t the kitchen look so great if we painted it some kind of blue? I saw a swatch at the store that looked exactly like the water in the Blue Grotto. I want to go there one day. I always thought it would look-”

Beatrice steps back. Something that was fizzling inside of her fades, though she didn’t know it was there until she felt its absence. Ava is still going on – the bathroom would look good in pink. With black and white tiles on the floor – but Beatrice feels a sense of calm come over her, and she takes her first deep breath since she crossed the threshold.

Ava stops. “I’m getting ahead of myself,” she says sheepishly.

“It’s okay.” And it is. Beatrice doesn’t mind getting swept up in Ava’s elaborate plans. “But I’m going to go back to my homework.”

Ava flashes her a thumbs up. Her finger is still stained turquoise. “Okay. But you’re not studying for too long. We can’t have a repeat of this weekend.”

Beatrice feels her face flush. “I swore I went to bed.”

“You did. Standing in front of the refrigerator. I thought you were going to fall over.”

“I’m very disciplined.”

Ava grins. “Well, put a cap on studying tonight. When I’m done with the first coat, we’re going to get something to eat.”

She pretends to be annoyed by this, just because she likes the way Ava narrows her eyes playfully and shakes a finger at her. She’s not disappointed when Ava does exactly that before turning back to the stool she stole from the kitchen where she’s stacked two small paint cans, one open and one closed, and a paint roller.

Crossing the room back towards her homework is easier than going the distance from it to Ava’s room. She feels lighter with each step. She sits back down, her intention to focus on this paper she’s supposed to submit in two days (but feels nowhere near completion). Work, then break. As long as she works for the next hour, at least, then she can offer to buy Ava Indian food and ask her to watch a documentary about a filmmaker befriending an octopus. Cedrick, in her Study of Film elective, had suggested it to her. She doesn’t think it’ll be hard; Ava has said more than once that she thinks octopi are cute.

But as thoughts of Ava and octopi float in her head, some of the words Ava just mentioned start to register in Beatrice’ brain. Ava never mentioned the Blue Grotto before. They’re inching closer to the end of the school year and she doesn’t know Ava’s plans yet. Does she want to go backpacking across Europe? Alone? Will Beatrice have to haunt the corners of the apartment waiting for her to come back? Will Ava be different when she comes back? Will she forget about Beatrice?

Will she find a new forever-roommate in another city and leave Beatrice on her own?

Her homework is suddenly the furthest thing from her mind. She can’t focus on Eve or Thecla or their impact on the religious narrative. She can only think about the possibility of spending the summer alone - Mary and Shannon are going on a graduation trip across Spain, and Camila secured a summer internship with a tech startup company, and even Lilith found a program that allows her to travel for the few months before the start of the fall semester.

Beatrice’s big plan is to work at the campus library, splitting her time between shelving books, starting her graduation capstone project, and Ava. The practical side of her knows she should try to make that time an even three-way split, but the more she thinks about the coming months, the more adventures she keeps coming up with in her head. Things she wants to do and try with Ava, because she knows it’s on Ava’s list. They could visit the Prado Museum. Take a long weekend and travel to some seaside town where Ava could practice swimming in the waves. They could find new restaurants and new hiking trails. She’d even let Ava convince her to try roller skating. Again.

Beatrice hasn’t told her yet, but she has the whole summer mapped out. And Ava is embedded into every bullet point of that. It just hadn’t occurred to her that Ava might have her own plans. Ones that didn’t include Beatrice.

“Ow!”

Beatrice’s head snaps up. The sudden noise is followed by a heavy thud, thud and a rattle as something hits the floor. She’s up and moving before she has time to second guess herself, crossing the apartment in long strides until she’s reaching Ava’s room.

She crosses the threshold in a breath, suddenly plunged into the smell of paint and the sight of the bright lights Ava has rigged up in the center of the room. It nearly blinds her and she quickly looks at the ground.

Ava is lying on the thick, plush navy rug at the bottom of the bed, body curled in on itself as she clutches her foot. A small unopened can of paint is rolling slowly away from her towards the corner of the room. Ava groans loudly and turns her face into the rug as her whole body expands with a breath.

Beatrice drops to her knees, ignoring the dull ache that rockets up her thighs into her hips. She grabs Ava’s shoulders, turning her onto her back as her eyes scan Ava’s face for any blood or bruises. Her hands follow the same path, tucking Ava’s hair behind her ear and trailing her thumbs across the flat of Ava’s cheeks.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

Ava’s eyes flutter closed, and Beatrice immediately becomes concerned about a concussion. Her fingers slide to the base of Ava’s head, and she applies a little pressure to tip it back. Ava’s still blinking up at her but as the light reflects against the honeyed color of her irises her pupils shrink. Beatrice heaves a relieved sigh. No concussion.

“Bea,” Ava groans again. She turns her face into Beatrice’s palm. “I think I broke it.”

Beatrice’s hands fall from Ava’s face and skim down her shoulders to her elbows, cupping them gently. “Let me see,” she says softly.

Ava shakes her head. “Just leave me behind.”

A rush of fondness ripples through her. She presses her fingertips into Ava’s bare arms, the sleeves of her This may be cheesy but I feel grate t-shirt brushing against the backs of Beatrice’s knuckles. “Ava,” she urges.

“No, it’s too horrible.” Ava’s grip tightens on her foot and she immediately winces.

Beatrice slides her hands down to Ava’s slowly. She curls her fingers into the spaces between Ava’s and her foot, pushing them back until she has enough room to free Ava’s foot from its self-imposed prison. There’s a bruise already forming at the base of her toes on the top of her foot, blooming across the first three toes. She ghosts her thumb across it and Ava flinches slightly.

Beatrice’s lips purse into a frown. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” Ava rolls completely onto her back, staring up at Beatrice. She’s still blinking rapidly and Beatrice is worried about a delayed concussion now.

“I think you’ve bruised it.” She presses down, gentler this time. Ava draws in a breath but doesn’t flinch away. “I don’t think anything is broken.”

Her hand drifts higher, curling around Ava’s ankle bone. It’s delicate under her fingers, the point rounded. Her other hand, still resting on Ava’s foot, goes to her other shin. There’s nothing but an expanse of smooth and warm skin under her palm.

“Good,” Ava says faintly. Her eyes go to Beatrice’s hand, lingering.

Beatrice’s eyes follow. Oh. She quickly pulls her hands away, cheeks suddenly hot.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“You don’t have to-”

They both pause, staring at each other. The air feels electric, goosebumps running up Beatrice’s arms. Her chest feels tight with unspoken words. She looks away first.

Ava’s hand on her own pulls her eyes back around. She looks at Beatrice for a long moment before she smiles a little. There’s something on her face that Beatrice can’t read, but it settles the rising tide of fear in her chest and she feels it ebb away into nothingness.

It’s not unusual, the sense of calm that comes with a simple look from Ava. It’s a peace that feels second nature now. It’s odd how seven months with Ava has untied almost all the knots her life created. Seven months isn’t very long - a blip on the radar, really. She’s had the same study group for longer than that. But these seven months have felt so monumental that it seems to have lasted years.

But Ava is monumental, so really, it does make sense.

Still. Her hands got ahead of her head. She touched before she thought, and now she’s kneeling on Ava’s floor with her hands hovering between their bodies, and Ava’s eyes are even more honey-colored than usual. The lights reflecting off the white walls makes her feel like she’s under a spotlight on a stage where everyone can see her, here in Ava’s room.

In Ava’s room, across the threshold. Completely across it.

A line she hasn’t crossed, a step she hasn’t taken. The room rushes in on her suddenly. She’s hyper aware of the faint chemical smell of paint, the too-bright lights, the rough fibers of the rug against her bare ankles, the way Ava’s laundry seems to be crawling out of the basket in the corner.

“I’m-”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Bea.”

“I’ll just-”

“Beatrice.”

Beatrice blinks. Ava’s hand has turned over in hers, her palm up. “Yes?”

“Help me up?”

Beatrice blinks again. “Oh. Yes.” She shifts back onto her heels and grabs Ava’s wrist, fingers spread to distribute her grasp so she doesn’t pull Ava’s wrist off her arm, and gently leads her forward. She wobbles as she rises, leaning into Beatrice for support, and Beatrice quickly winds an arm around her waist to steady her as she stands. They’re so close that Beatrice can feel the way Ava is breathing, the push of her ribs against Beatrice’s hand. She helps her to the bed carefully, cautious of the paint around them, and sits her down gently.

There’s more turquoise paint along her forehead, and dried paint on her fingers, and Beatrice wants to find a clean washcloth, wet it, and gently wash it away. She does the next best thing.

She picks up a rag next to the small container of water Ava must be using to clean the brushes and dips the corner into it, wetting it. She hands it to Ava and waits as she rubs furiously at her finger, washing the paint away.

“What happened?”

Ava sighs, eyes narrowing as she looks at the unopened paint can on the ground. It’s rolled across her room away from them. Luckily, the open can remains in place on the stool, the paintbrush hanging precariously on the edge of it.

“I went to reach for the paintbrush and knocked it off. Freaking thing landed on my foot. Obviously.”

Beatrice’s free hand goes to Ava’s foot. Her thumb sweeps across the bruise. Ava’s fingers flex against the back of Beatrice’s forearms. “You are lucky it didn’t break anything.”

Ava shudders. “Manuel, one of the guys on my floor when I lived in the dorms, he broke his foot the first month in. He had to wear a big walking boot for weeks. It was so ugly.”

“It would hardly go with your outfits,” Beatrice agrees.

“How would I even get my jeans on?” Ava frowns thoughtfully. “I’d have to walk around in my underwear all day.”

Beatrice nearly chokes on a cough, but she swallows it back down, uncomfortable in her throat. “I think… I think you could remove it to put your clothes on,” she says, her voice too light to be her own.

Ava’s face flushes unusually. “Oh, right. Of course.” She starts to smile wickedly. “Don’t want me walking around in my underwear, of course.”

Beatrice doesn’t quite hide her blush like she hid her cough. Because she has envisioned Ava walking around in her underwear before, just with one of Beatrice’s big sweaters dusting her thighs and coming down over her hands. She quickly blinks, turning the image to black in her mind. It was a passing thought, just once. She never had it again. It was unfair to Ava to even begin to form that picture in her mind. It flashes in her head like a bang now and she tightens her grip on Ava’s wrist, suddenly aware she’s still holding on.

She goes for a strangled joke. “It would prevent Lilith from coming over.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Ava latches onto it. Her eyes light up. “Consider it done.”

Beatrice immediately concerns herself with something else. Ava’s foot.

“Let me get you some ice,” she says. Her voice doesn’t waver this time. Shannon, if she knew about this, would be proud. She’d praise Beatrice’s restraint, call it admirable.

Shannon would also probably tell her that she should do something that would completely change the trajectory of her friendship with Ava. So maybe the Shannon in her mind should be a little quieter.

“I don’t think I need ice.”

Beatrice looks down at the bruise, darker now, and then gives Ava a pointed look. It has the desired effect. Ava’s cheeks pinken and she smiles sheepishly. Beatrice nods, assured in her success, and carefully extracts her hands from Ava’s foot, standing.

“I’ll be right back,” she promises. “Don’t forget the paint on your forehead”

Ava carefully taps her foot, higher than the bruise. “Not going anywhere.”

Beatrice could argue that Ava could go somewhere. It’s not broken. It’s uncomfortable, of course. She once flexed her foot at the wrong moment and kicked a pine board toes-first. The bruise remained for weeks and the slight limp from accommodating the pain had lasted a little longer than that.

But Ava wipes her forehead carelessly and falls back onto her bed, hands hanging over each side of the bed in a T-shape as her legs dangle off the end. Her shirt rides up her flat stomach revealing a sliver of skin Beatrice wants to run her fingernail over. Ava’s eyes are closed, head tipped back just enough for her chin to lift up, exposing the long unbroken line of her neck.

Beatrice looks away before another thought rushes unbidden into her mind. Her cheeks burn.

“I’ll be right back,” she repeats, unnecessarily. Ava hums on the bed.

She doesn’t linger, striding out of the room and across the apartment. She opens the freezer, welcoming the blast of cold air against her face. She takes a moment, almost forgetting why she’s standing there. But Ava calls her name from the bedroom, and Beatrice remembers quickly. The ice maker hasn’t worked in a few weeks - she makes a mental note to have Mary look at it before she calls her landlord - but Ava only found that as an excuse to buy increasingly ridiculous ice cube trays.

It takes her a minute to decide between ice cube shapes. Ava went a little crazy online, buying shark fin-shaped ones, brain-shaped ones, ones shaped like ice monsters and another set shaped like centipedes. Beatrice decides on ones shaped like rubber ducks, twisting the silicone tray so they pop out. She wraps them in a cloth quickly so her hands don’t get too cold.

Crossing the room feels like a walk she’s made a hundred times before. She knows in her mind that it’s only been twice but now that she’s opened the flood gate, her feet move her without thought. Past the books and notes she’s abandoned, the armchair, the couch. She pauses just before Ava’s bedroom, toes against the threshold.

She crosses it as easily as she exhales.

Ava is still laying on her back, an approximation of a cross as she rests with her eyes closed. Beatrice watches her chest rise and fall as she breathes in and out evenly. There’s a beauty in simplicity, she’s always thought so. Ava only strengthens that.

“Ice,” she says quietly, unsure of why she doesn’t want to say anything at all. She doesn’t want to break this moment, startle Ava and ruin the weightlessness of it.

Ava cracks one eye open, a half-smile on her face. “You’re back.”

Beatrice holds out the ice. Ava crooks a finger at her, beckoning her closer. She hesitates. Ava pushes up, resting on her elbows now.

“I think we’ve established that I don’t bite.” That smile turns wicked again. “Unless you ask nicely.”

Her fingers clench around the ice, and she feels the cold bite at her skin. But she stays still, not giving anything else away.

Ava sits up, foot dangling over the end of the bed. She rests her palms flat against the comforter before she pushes up and stands. She puts her weight down on her foot and her leg buckles almost instantly.

Beatrice doesn’t think, arms looping tightly around Ava’s waist and pulling up her. Her fingers slide into the dips of Ava’s back, the ice trapped between one of her palms and Ava’s skin. Her feet tangle with Ava’s. Their hips are nearly pressed together, almost no space between them. Ava exhales in a noisy rush, lips twisted in a grimace. Beatrice feels the hot air against her collarbone.

“Are you okay?”

Ava tilts her head back slightly. “Would you believe me if I said yes?”

Beatrice’s mouth flickers in a smile. “No.”

“Then we’ll just assume the answer.” Ava’s hands are wrapped tightly around her elbows and her fingers flex against the back of Beatrice’s arms. “Wow. Do you work out?”

“You know that I do.” She keeps her voice light.

Ava’s fingers dance further up her arms, under the hem of her sleeve. She squeezes again, gently. “Yeah, well knowing you do, seeing you do it, and feeling its effects are three very different things.”

Her fingers are maddening, burning hot against Beatrice’s skin. Ava rubs her thumb in a small circle over her bicep.

“Really, Bea. You could probably crush an egg with these things.”

She frowns. “Why would I want to crush an egg?”

“Well, it’d be a way to spice up breakfast.” She presses gently, dimpling the skin. “And a killer party trick.”

Beatrice fights a shiver despite the way her skin feels like it’s burning. “I don’t go to parties.”

But that’s a lie. She does when Ava invites her. She thinks of the party they went to, the spinning disco lights and the way Ava’s body pressed against hers in the hot swell of sweaty, drunken students. She thinks of Ava slumped over on their couch later, saying she’d wait for Beatrice.

That voice that sounds just like Shannon’s whispers that it means exactly what Beatrice hopes it means. She’s never been good at telling Shannon to stop, but this is easy enough to sweep under the mental rug so it remains unknown and unseen.

Truth unknown and unseen is still truth, Shannon has said before. I read that on Pintrest.

Beatrice shakes the memory from her mind and focuses on the facts in front of her: Ava. Ava, close enough to breathe in. Close enough that Beatrice could eliminate the mere inches between them and-

“I bet you’d go to more parties if you had a party trick,” Ava interrupts.

“I doubt it.” But Ava is grinning and Beatrice can’t help but smile back. “But I’m sure you could convince Mary to give it a try.”

“I mean, Mary has decent biceps, but I don’t think she could crack an egg.”

Beatrice shakes her head. “Why an egg? Why not, I don’t know. A walnut.”

“A walnut. These are good goals.” Ava squeezes Beatrice’s bicep once more to emphasize her words. “Let’s start with an egg and work our way to something more advanced.”

The flex of Ava’s fingers against her skin pulls her from her next thought. It’s not that she didn’t notice the lack of space between them, it’s just that it’s rushing in on her now. It’s dizzying, the way Ava is standing so close. Beatrice tries to breathe in, but her chest pushes out until it nearly brushes Ava’s and she’s sucking all the air back into her lungs just as quickly.

Ava notices, eyes dropping down past Beatrice’s chin and neck before they dart up again, crinkling at the corners. She takes a step back, dropping to the bed again, the ice in her hand. She pulls one leg up under her, chin resting on her knee as she puts the ice against her bruising foot.

Beatrice blinks, oddly cool air rushing in where Ava’s body had been despite the humid air of their apartment as the spring pushes towards the hot summer. “You’ll need to ice that for a bit.”

Ava nods, adjusting the ice for a moment before she looks up and says, “So, first time?”

Beatrice frowns. “Administering first aid?”

“First time being in here. Properly, I mean.” Ava looks around, throwing one arm wide. “What do you think?”

Beatrice takes stock of her situation. It’s technically her third time being in here, but Ava is right. She’s in here properly now. Not just over the threshold or charging through barriers because Ava’s been injured. She crossed the line intentionally this time. And she remains, the walls of Ava’s room coming at her from each side without boxing her in.

Ava’s laundry flows from the hamper. Her bed isn’t quite made, but isn’t quite a mess. There are books stacked on the desk in a way that tells Beatrice Ava hasn’t opened them in some time. Hobbes sits next to them. A series of pictures is on the wall opposite her desk, ones of her and Ava and the rest of their friends. Beatrice’s eyes catalog each inch, committing it to memory in a place where she knows she’s going to see it for a very long time.

“You’re missing the best part,” Ava says. Her voice is quiet, like she’s afraid to startle Beatrice. She waits until Beatrice looks before she points upward.

Beatrice’s eyes follow the imaginary thread from Ava’s fingertip to the ceiling. She nearly gasps.

White-green stars dot the ceiling, filling all the space. Spider web-thin lines connect some of them, forming constellations she recognizes from the pictures Ava has shown her and the ones Ava has pointed out on rare nights when she can convince Beatrice to go out to the quad and lay on the grass to watch the night pass by. Some of them she doesn’t and she focuses on those ones, studying their shapes and trying to decide what they look like.

“Apus.” Ava’s finger moves, tracing the lines she’s drawn between the glow-in-the-dark stars. “We call it the Bird of Paradise. Derived from the Greek word apous, which means ‘footless’. There’s a story that birds of paradise were once believed to have been footless.”

“I don’t believe I know what a bird of paradise looks like,” she admits.

“My mom loved them. She’d never seen one in person, but she liked looking at pictures of them. They have these large plumes. They look so soft.” Ava sighs wistfully. “There was a nun, in the orphanage when I was first there, that called me a bird of paradise.” She pauses, eyes darting to Beatrice. “Because I was footless, you know? She reminded me of my mom. She didn’t stay long, but she was nice.”

Beatrice’s heart clenches as it always does when Ava talks about her past. But this is a softer ache, a longing to thank this woman who showed Ava a sliver of mercy.

“And that’s Grus, the crane,” Ava continues. “Originally, it was part of another constellation, Piscis Austrinus. But a Dutch astronomer defined it as its own separate constellation. Its brightest star is Al Na’ir. It’s Arabic for ‘bright one’ which feels a little on the nose.”

Beatrice studies its shape, noting the bigger star that Ava must have defined as Al Na’ir. “Why do you like this one?”

Ava thinks for a moment. “Did you know that cranes have the ability to fly over the Himalayas? They can. They can go as high as 8,000 meters. Imagine being that high up, feeling the wind in your hair.” She blinks, looking off towards the wall littered with paint swatches. “I spent so long tied to one place that the idea of being able to fly over a mountain, to graze the tip of it with a set of wings, sounded like a fairytale.”

Beatrice slides her hand over Ava’s, fingertips resting in the dips between her knuckles. “I think we could hike the Himalayas one day, if you wanted to.”

Ava looks down at their hands and blinks before her eyes meet Beatrice’s. “You think so?”

“I think you could do anything you want to do.”

Ava doesn’t blink this time, doesn’t even look away. “If I can do anything I want to do, I want to…” She pauses, tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip.

Beatrice waits, but the rest of Ava’s sentence doesn’t come. She clears her throat. “What do you-”

“Did you see that one?” Ava asks, interrupting her and pointing up at the ceiling.

Beatrice blinks, startled at the intensity of Ava’s voice. She searches Ava’s face but it’s unreadable, a mix of something Beatrice can’t quite put a name to. So she looks up helplessly, searching for what Ava is pointing at.

“That’s Drago.”

“The dragon,” Beatrice translates. “What’s his story?”

Ava shrugs. “He’s just fucking cool.”

A sharp laugh slips out from between her lips and Ava grins widely back at her.

“So, you like it, then.” Ava looks around her room and nods to herself. “It’s a pretty great room, isn’t it?”

“It’s very… Ava,” Beatrice allows. She’s smiling though, hoping that her words don’t sting.

“Isn’t that all I can hope for?” Ava sighs and turns her hand over so her palm presses against Beatrice’s. “But can I ask another question?”

When she breathes out, “anything”, she means it.

Ava hesitates still. “You never come in here,” she says slowly. “Why not?”

Something tightens in her chest. Words rise in her throat and she swallows them back down, a reflex more than anything else. Ava must notice something pass over her face or feel the way that Beatrice’s hand jumps in hers, because strong and warm fingers stroke up her wrist as they lock around the bone, keeping her anchored to the moment.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Ava rushes on. “I’m just… curious, I guess.” She smiles crookedly. “Does it smell in here?”

Yes. Like something deep and woodsy and so uniquely Ava.

Ava’s nose wrinkles. “Does it? Because if it does, I-”

“It doesn’t.” Beatrice’s voice is too loud. “It doesn’t,” she says, softer now.

Ava’s frown doesn’t smooth out. “Then… why?”

It’s not you, it’s me, her mind supplies. She doesn’t say that. She thinks about how to put it into words, how to unpack all the things she tidied away and put in a cedar chest, locking it tight. Nothing comes from it, just an empty explanation that won’t make sense if she says it out loud.

But Ava is her best friend. And if it doesn’t make sense, if the words don’t come out right, she’ll wait patiently for Beatrice to try again. She’ll sit here, one leg tucked up as ice melts through a washcloth and she’ll wait for Beatrice to find the right words.

I’d wait for you forever, Ava had said, lips loose with party punch. And Beatrice believed her.

Ava makes her brave. Brave enough not to make an offhand joke and turn the conversation back on the open can of paint and the paintbrush quickly drying out.

Instead, she clears her throat and straightens up, the first thing she does when an image of her parents enters her mind. And Ava doesn’t let go of her wrist, moving with her instead, ebbing and flowing with her seamlessly. Beatrice turns to face Ava, watching Ava mirror her, and she exhales out the tension building in her muscles.

“Bea, if you don’t want to-”

“I do.”

She does. Holding onto these things makes her feel heavy. And almost more than anything - but not more than wanting Ava - she wants to be lighter.

Ava shakes her head. “I’m serious.”

Beatrice grips Ava’s other hand, their arms tangled around each other. “I… I have to.”

“Okay,” Ava says softly. Her smile is the same. “Whatever you want to tell me, I want to hear.”

Ava isn’t always sledgehammer, she realizes. She thinks of her as a hammer, crashing into everything and leaving a wake of needed destruction in her wake. But Ava is also a set of picks, quietly and discreetly slipping into the lock around her. For all the stomping around she does, all the things she knocks over in her haste to get from one moment to the next, she’s also deft, hands built with finesse.

Beatrice tries to find the start. Was it Penelope Marshall? Was it the start of boarding school? Was it her parents finding her journal when she was thirteen? Was it all the time she spent with the diplomat’s daughter? Was it her fifth birthday when she cried because her parents bought her the dress with the pink frills instead of the bicycle she wanted?

“My parents…”

“I hate them.”

She doesn’t chide Ava for saying so. A deep, angry part of her hates her parents too. She smiles humorlessly. “They sent me to boarding school, as you know. When I was thirteen. Right at Christmas time. I remember it because it was my present that year. An ‘opportunity to further my education in an environment that would foster appropriate and lifelong lessons’,” she quotes. She can remember the brochure she’d been given unceremoniously, a smiling girl on the front. Even in print, Beatrice could see the hollow light in her eyes.

“Appropriate,” Ava scoffs. “Like anything they did was appropriate.”

Beatrice feels Ava’s pulse thunder under her fingers. “They said it would give me a framework for my life. Lucille Thomason had graduated from there a year before and she was going to Oxford, on her way to inheriting her mother’s social calendar. My mother always fawned over her at dinners. ‘Lucille is following the plans her mother set out for her. Lucille has accomplished so much at such a young age.’”

“Lucille sounds like a loser.”

“Lucille sounded exactly like the daughter my mother wanted.”

Ava frowns softly. “You know that you’re leagues above whoever Lucille is.”

“I didn’t think so,” she admits. “Lucille was someone to admire. Her achievements were something to strive for. She had something I so desperately wanted when I was younger: my mother’s approval. And so, when they presented the option-” She stops herself. “It wasn’t an option. But when they presented their plan, I reconciled myself with it by reminding myself that Lucille was leading a very successful life.”

“There’s more to life than success,” Ava says gently.

Beatrice smiles a little. “To you. To me. But to my parents, there is nothing more.” She takes a deep breath. “And if they were framing it as me taking an opportunity to lead a successful life, then they would forget about… the things they were discovering about me.”

Ava immediately tenses. The Beatrice she is now knows it for what it is: an attempt to contain her anger. The Beatrice she was months ago would have worried. Was Ava afraid of her? Was Ava disgusted by her? The thoughts had swirled that movie night. What if she did admit to a crush on Patricia Velasquez? Would this new person she wanted so badly to be around, without knowing why, suddenly change her mind once she found out the truth?

But Ava hadn’t. Ava won’t. Beatrice knows it with every fiber of her being. There are very few absolute truths in the world, but this is one of them.

“They read my journal, you know,” she continues. The words are coming out easily, this tiny fissure in her chest cracking open as Ava looks at her with wide and trusting eyes. “A new girl started school at the beginning of the term. Her name was Mina. Her father was in banking, I believe. She had the bluest eyes I had ever seen in my life.”

Ava scoffs lightly. “Blue eyes.”

She skims the pad of her thumb over Ava’s wrist. “One day, our hands brushed. It was something simple, innocent. She was passing me a paper, and we miscalculated the distance. I’m sure it meant nothing to her.”

“It meant something to you,” Ava guesses.

“I was thirteen. Everything meant something.” Beatrice sighs, feeling her chest rise and fall heavily. “And anything that meant something to me went into my journal. I just didn’t know that what went into my journal eventually landed in my parents’ hands.”

“So those bastards went through your private journal and read about some girl who touched your hand,” Ava hisses. “I swear, the minute I meet them, it’s fist to face. They don’t call me The Piraya for nothing, you know.”

“No one calls you that.”

“They might call me that, you don’t know. I have a whole superhero persona you don’t know about.” Ava puffs out her chest a little bit.

“The name Piraya implies you’re more of a villain than a superhero.”

“I’m a villain’s villain. How’s that?”

The trickle of despair of dragging this up again fades as Ava’s smile widens. She knows what Ava is doing. But she doesn’t stop her, grateful for the brevity and the way it makes her feel like she’s grounded in something, not floating listlessly and endlessly in her terrible memories.

“I mean it.” Ava’s voice drops, low and serious. “I’ll be their worst nightmare.”

“I’m afraid that role is already taken,” she says quietly. “Though, I don’t think they intended for it to be their daughter.” She sighs. She used to be her mother’s doll. But once she started moving her own parts, she found herself moving in the opposite direction.

“Bea,” Ava whispers. She tightens her grip on Beatrice’s wrist.

“I remember I wrote that touching her hand was as if the heavens opened up and I finally understood what song the angels were singing. We were in the middle of a poetry unit, and I fancied myself quite good at it.” She lets out a dry chuckle. “When I found them in the kitchen one night holding onto my journal I foolishly thought they had found out I was reading Emily Dickenson instead of studying for my science exam.”

Beatrice remembers coming down the stairs, flushed with the late November cold. Mina had invited her for dinner the next night, and she promised to show Beatrice the new video game she got. Beatrice didn’t care about those kinds of things, but no one else had gotten an invitation to Mina’s. Beatrice felt special.

But her parents’ faces had stopped her in her tracks. She didn’t notice her journal at first. It was made to look discreet, not to stand out. It had blended into her mother’s dark skirt, and it wasn’t until her mother raised it into the air that she saw it for what it was.

They asked her to explain herself. She wasn’t sure what they wanted her to explain, not at first. She stumbled through an apology about delaying her studying; she’d do it immediately and ask her teacher for an extra take home lesson. She scrambled through a rushed explanation about having new friends meant more opportunities for networking. With new friends, she could join a new club. It would do well on her list of extracurriculars.

It wasn’t until her mother spit out the name Mina that she had any idea of what she was supposed to be afraid of.

“What did they say?” Ava asks gently.

“They didn’t have to say much. There were questions about who Mina was. My mother had a particular talent of making something that wasn’t a swear sound like it. And she hissed Mina’s name like it was the dirtiest word she could say.”

Beatrice thinks of Mina now. Where was she? What was she doing? Beatrice never heard from her after she left. No letters, no calls. She came and went in her life so quickly, it was as if Beatrice made her up. The only sign that she had been there was the page missing from her journal, returned to her the night before she left for school.

“They demanded to know what she had done to me. What had I done to her? I was so confused. She had touched my hand. I certainly hadn’t…” Beatrice’s chest hitches at the thought. “It was a fleeting moment, but I learned that fleeting moments were the most damaging ones. That,” she says dryly. “And that locks do nothing to keep a determined person out.”

“Locks are meant to keep people out,” Ava all but hisses. She sighs, working her fingers up Beatrice’s arm to her elbow. They rest in the dip of her arm, right over the thin vein under Beatrice’s skin. “God, Bea. I’m so sorry. They were - are - horrible. No one should have had to go through that. Especially not you.”

Especially not you, Ava says. Like Beatrice is better than anyone else. Like she should exist under different rules.

“Of course you’re afraid,” Ava says quietly, speaking to herself. She raises her voice, talking to Beatrice now. “Of course you’re worried about even - Jesus, Bea. Touching a girl’s hand?” She looks down as if she’s suddenly noticing how she’s knotted herself around Beatrice’s arm. She laughs dryly. “What would they say if they saw us now?”

Ava means what if they saw me comforting you? Not what if they saw how I touch you like nothing else matters?

The answer would be the same: her mother would simply set fire to the room.

The chasm is widening now. She’s cracked the seam on these memories, and her mind is cycling through the events that followed: a new suitcase set, pink with her name on an address tag; a set of starched uniforms that felt like coarse wool against her skin; a final meal in her parents’ formal dining room, the chef-of-the-week uncaring of her dislike for persimmons; a single plane ticket pressed into her hand and a dismissive nod as a car pulled away from the airport, leaving her alone.

She tells Ava this in stilted words, as if narrating someone else’s life. But then it starts to sink in, the anger. And it spreads in her belly, burning into a rage. She feels the moment the numbness transitions to an inferno. She hears herself exhale the word alone and something snaps.

“They had no right,” she says. Even through her anger, the words surprise her.

Ava’s voice sounds hoarse, unused. “They didn’t.”

“I was a child. Their child.” Her hand clenches tightly into a fist, Ava’s hand moving with the flex of her forearm muscle. “A ‘problem’ arose and they just…” She stops. “They strung me along until I was no longer of use to them.”

“You are not a problem.” Ava's voice is low, burning hot in the rapidly closing space between them, in a tone she’s never heard before.

Beatrice almost startles, confused. She had nearly forgotten that Ava was here, so consumed in her story. But now she’s noticing her. 

Her eyes flash. The tops of her cheeks pinken slightly. She’s angry. Beatrice has seen her on more than one occasion get angry on her behalf. The mere thought of her parents seems to send her into a flurry, but the anger in her eyes now is nearly staggering.

“You’re not,” she says again, insistent to the point of almost desperation. “Beatrice, you are not a problem.”

And Beatrice, blinking, already falling, dives deeper into love with her.

-

Ava feels her cheeks go hot with a liquid anger that roils in her blood. She’s been angry before - angry at Bea’s parents, even. But this feels like pure molten rage. All of the pieces are slotting together: a young girl who just wanted to make her parents proud; who saw someone - touched someone so innocently - and felt the world shift; who didn’t understand why a cliff rose up between her and the people who were supposed to love her more than anything; who trusted so completely and had it thrown back in her face as if she was the one who somehow failed.

Ava’s fingers tighten until her fingernails cut deep half-moon shapes into her palm. She pulls the words out from between her teeth like nails scratching the floor.

“You are not a problem.”

Bea blinks. The broiling heat in her stomach softens its edge, replaced by the confusion in Bea’s eyes as she blinks again.

“You’re not,” Ava insists. She tugs Bea’s hand, pulling her closer until they’re pressed together, an almost-sweaty slide of the skin of their knees bumping together. Bea blinks a second time, mouth parting slightly. “Beatrice, you are not a problem.”

She needs Bea to believe her. She’s never needed anything more in her whole life. She could live without air. She could make it minutes without oxygen. But she can’t live with another second of Beatrice believing her parents’ poison.

She coaxes Bea another inch closer. “Do you hear me?”

Bea’s mouth parts further, something on the tip of her tongue. Ava squeezes Bea’s hand a little tighter. “Do you hear me?”

“I hear you,” Bea says faintly.

Ava isn’t satisfied. “You need to believe it. You’re not a problem. You’re-” She softens her grip, thumbs Bea’s wild pulse. “You’re-”

“Don’t say perfect,” Bea whispers, eyes slamming closed. “Please don’t say perfect.”

Ava hesitates. She was going to say perfect. She was going to say frustratingly perfect. But she can pivot. There are a million other things she can call Bea - courageous, intelligent, kind, beautiful. All things she’s told Bea before and all things she’d tell her a million times more.

“Human,” she lands on. Bea’s eyes open slowly. “You’re human, just like every single other person on this big rock orbiting in space. You live like everyone else. You laugh, you cry. You love, just like everyone else. And none of that-  not who you are or who you love, or even the special little rules you have for tea that took me forever to learn - not a single part of you is a problem.”

The space between Bea’s eyes wrinkles in thought. Ava usually holds herself back, usually just wishes to press it flat gently. But the line between them is so thin now that she doesn’t think twice about it, reaching up and resting her thumb between her brows, pushing gently until the skin relaxes.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she asks in a whisper. Bea holds so many of her secrets, one more won’t hurt.

Bea nods slowly.

“When I first met you, I was so… intimidated.” Bea’s eyes widen slightly and Ava nods. “I was. You seemed so… cool. Composed. Not at all affected by someone who crashed into your table with the grace of a… what did you call it?”

“A newborn foal,” Bea says lightly.

Ava grins, her smile widening when some of it reflects in Bea’s face. “A newborn foal. That’s a giraffe, right?” She doesn’t wait to be corrected. “I thought, I need to know who this is and I need to know everything about her right now or I’m going to combust.”

Bea rolls her eyes, the motion of her eyes disrupting Ava’s thumb, still on her forehead. She doesn’t drop her hand, being bold and dragging the blunt ends of her fingernails against the smooth skin just above Bea’s eyebrow.

“You’re very dramatic.”

“Did I pretend to be anything else?” Ava shakes her head when Bea opens her mouth. “Don’t answer that. Just know.” She sobers, breathing in and exhaling the most truthful thing she thinks she’s ever said in her life. “The minute I met you, I knew you were something spectacular. I knew you were going to change my life.”

A weight hangs between them now. Bea looks shy under it, her head ducking slightly. Ava’s fingers slip, nearly burying into Bea’s hair. She drops her hand back into her lap but curls it over Bea’s, not quite wanting to let go yet.

“Can I tell you a secret now?” Bea asks, eyes still on the space between them.

Ava nods without being seen. “Anything.”

“I never really felt like that.”

“Like what?” Ava frowns. “Spectacular?”

“Human.” Bea looks up. “I spent so long feeling like… an other. That feeling like a human just didn’t… I couldn’t make sense of that. It took some time.”

Ava smiles gently. “But you got there.”

“After-” Bea stops herself, pulling her lips in as if she’s trying to keep something from erupting out. Ava watches the thin stream of air work its way through her nose, and catches the slight shine of Bea’s eyes, the way they seem to sparkle as unshed tears fill them.

“Hey,” she says softly. “No. No, don’t cry.” She drops Bea’s hands, cupping Bea’s face. Her thumbs brush along the flats of Bea’s cheeks. “I don’t know what to do when pretty girls cry,” she admits.

Bea laughs, choked and watery. “Neither do I. But it never stops me from telling you that Lilith doesn’t actually hate you no matter how much of her fancy vodka you drink.”

“One time,” Ava mutters, lips pulled back in a smile as she pretends to be annoyed.

It works. Bea’s smile seems a little stronger. “Ava,” she says quietly.

Ava strokes down a line of freckles absentmindedly. “Yeah?”

“Can I tell you another secret?”

“You can tell me you’re responsible for bringing down the Vatican, for all I care.”

Bea doesn’t laugh, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth instead. Ava wants to press down against the smooth skin but she stops herself before her thumb drifts that low. That perfect, soft-looking skin, a breath away. She focuses, pulling herself back into the moment.

Bea’s voice is nearly a whisper when she says, “Someone thought I was spectacular once.”

“Just once?”

Another silence. Ava tightens her jaw. Listen, don’t talk. She can do that. She can be still. It’s something Bea has taught her - just be still. Just wait. It will come to you when you stay in one place. So, she’s been waiting, patient against every urge within her to jump up and down and scream.

Sometimes, these feelings for Bea are so big in her chest that she feels like she’s going to explode into a hundred stars. She pictures herself shattering as the unspoken words build in her until they can’t go anywhere but out. But Bea is something to wait for. Bea is someone Ava doesn’t mind standing still for. She knows it’s there. She knows the feelings aren’t just her and that Bea needs to find her way forward. Ava just needs to be the flashlight in the distance, waiting for Bea to find her.

“At least, I thought she thought I was spectacular,” Bea continues, almost as if she didn’t hear Ava. “She said-  well, she said something close enough to it.”

Ava can feel another piece of the puzzle slotting into place. Another brick that makes up Bea’s nearly-impenetrable walls. For every one Ava manages to crack and loosen, another suddenly rises in its place. But she feels like this time, it falls and nothing slots into place.

She doesn’t stop herself from touching a freckle this time, tapping out a song she heard years ago before her hands drop again. “Was she pretty?”

She’s clumsy on a good day. Boisterous on others. But Bea is doing that thing again, learning how to run without knowing how to walk. And Ava is practicing. She’s trying so hard. She stays so still that Bea could almost imagine her gone.

“People are pretty in different ways,” Bea finally says. It’s a very diplomatic answer, something so very Bea that Ava breaks her stillness to smile. “All the other girls wanted to be her. I remember someone saying that her hair was so shiny, she must brush it a hundred times on each side before bed.”

Ava can’t help herself. “Is that why your hair is always so perfect? Are you secretly combing it until your wrist hurts?”

“A brush through wouldn’t kill you, Ava.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Bea’s growing smile flickers out. “I suppose it didn’t matter if she was conventionally pretty. I…” Ava watches the way she shores herself up against an invisible storm. “I thought she was beautiful.”

“What was her name?” she asks quietly.

“Penelope Marshall.” Bea says it like a prayer.

“Penelope.” Ava suddenly creates an image in her mind. A girl with wide brown eyes, bronze skin, a perfect smile of perfect teeth, a button nose, long and shiny hair.

Bea swallows and Ava feels the click of her jaw under her palms. “She was in my year, her room just down the hall from me. We were partners in Latin.”

“I bet she copied all her answers off your test.”

“Maybe once or twice,” she admits. “She certainly did not always do her homework on time. But Sister Magdalene liked her and simply turned a blind eye every so often.”

Bea’s cheeks are warming. Ava can see it in the way they pinken.

“It’s silly, but… I remember the first time she smiled at me. I had conjugated the verb, sum, to be, in the pluperfect subjunctive. She had been trying for the better part of an hour, but the switch from esse to fui for the tenses was always confusing to her.” Bea smiles slightly. “When I gave her the answer, she smiled at me and it felt like…”

“Like the world kind of tilted off its axis?”

Bea looks surprised. “Yes. Exactly that.”

“I’m familiar with the feeling.”

Because she is. So, so, deeply familiar with the feeling. The first time she saw Bea, that first smile she got as she bumbled her way through cleaning up the few drops of tea that spilled, the world went sideways and it hasn’t completely righted itself since.

“It’s peculiar, that feeling. It sticks with you, doesn’t it?” Bea looks down. “I used to dream about it,” she admits.

“That’s normal, Bea,” she says gently.

Bea looks up again. “Is it? Because it didn’t feel normal. It felt… other. Strange. Like a rock in the pit of my stomach. Penelope would touch my arm over our Latin text, and I could see my parents poring over my journal, looking for any otherness that might exist between us.”

“She made you happy, though.”

“I thought I made her happy as well.”

Ava doesn’t need Bea to tell her the rest. She can imagine how it went: touches as they broke down a dead language, sitting with their shoulders brushing at meals, giggling as they studied in what Ava assumes must have been a massive and cold library. She can imagine the small strands of Bea’s hair slipping from her bun across her cheeks and Penelope pushing them back behind her ear with quick fingers.

Ava lets herself be selfish and do that same thing now. Bea’s face turns slightly into her hand. Not enough that she probably even notices.

“When did she kiss you?”

Bea looks surprised again and Ava’s hand falls away. “How did you-”

“A good guess,” she lies. Because she knows that having Bea there and not kissing her is God’s strongest battle. She has been a good soldier.

She’s not sure how much longer she can be good.

“A few months into the semester.” Bea’s voice goes taut. “She invited me to study for her biology test. On the recommendation of our teacher, she told me. I imagined it was a lie; she had the same grades as I did.” Her cheeks pinken. “We were reviewing the different biological features of various aquatic animals and she…”

“She kissed you over the cod?” Ava says, voice a little strangled.

Bea meets her eyes. “It was my first kiss. Everyone I knew had theirs already, but I thought that if this is what I was waiting for, it was worth it.”

“The best things are worth waiting for.”

“I’d read about whirlwind romances in novels. Girls in the dormitories talked about it. Boyfriends they had back home that they saw on holiday weekends. But it was nothing like kissing behind locked doors. It couldn’t be. No one else could be experiencing what I did. It was so uniquely ours. Do you know what I mean?”

She does. It means closed doors. It means secrets. Bea reads it on her face because she can see something close to shame bloom across Bea’s cheeks.

“It was just for us,” Bea confirms. “A secret not even my parents, kilometers away, would learn of.”

Ava has never been one for secrets. She doesn’t like the way they taste in her mouth. You’re keeping your own, a voice like Mary’s reminds her. But that secret isn’t really a secret, is it? Because Mary knows. And Shannon knows because Mary knows. And her favorite barista, Lucy, knows it. JC knows it. The belayer at the rock climbing place and the guy at the one party she dragged Bea to and Lilith and Camila - they all know.

Bea knows too. Ava feels the truth of that in every crevice of her heart. Bea knows. Bea isn’t going to do anything about it - she feels that truth too. But the list of people Ava is hiding this from is shorter than the list of people who know it.

“You loved her.”

Bea’s smile is sad, far away. “First kiss, first love. I was convinced we would graduate and run away together. She would lie in my bed propped up on one arm talking about Paris and Rome and the places we could travel as soon as we got away from school. I’d felt so futureless when I arrived, but now I could imagine a million possibilities.”

Ava thinks of making a joke. Something about Bea jet-setting across all of Europe with a pretty girl, exactly the kind of lifestyle she deserved. But she knows this story doesn’t have a happy ending.

“She told me she loved me. More than anyone she loved in her life. She said we were young, but it doesn’t matter. You just feel love louder, she would tell me. I…” Bea takes a deep breath. “Mina may have been the first girl to touch my hand, but Penelope…”

Bea goes quiet long enough that Ava nudges her hand gently. “She…”

Bea’s eyes clear a little. “She touched me in other places. In other ways.”

Ava guesses the next part of this story too. “You wanted to tell someone and she wanted you guys to stay a secret.”

Bea laughs, short and sharp. “I wish it had been that simple. I wish I had been enough to stay a secret. Instead… She must have learned my parents’ trick. When someone becomes unseemly, when it becomes ugly and unwelcome, you simply… strike it from the record. Forget it ever existed. Send it away to boarding school and hope for the best. Or-or pick a new Latin partner and create an ocean that feels uncrossable.”

“Bea,” Ava says quietly.

“I could have accepted it was all done. An ending. I’m sure I could have. But instead I was…” She shakes her head. “Have you ever had someone you thought you were in love with look at you and tell you that none of it mattered? That it was girls being girls and that whispered promises in the corners of classrooms were never more than just a game? A joke?”

“Bea.”

But Bea has a haunted look in her eyes, like she’s somewhere else than Ava’s bedroom with its overflowing laundry and rumpled comforter and the paint swatches on the wall. Ava imagines she’s back in a girls dormitory standing in front of a pretty girl who is cutting her down to bits.

“She told me that none of it was real. It was wrong. It was just something to do. She wasn’t like that,” Bea says, voice just as haunted. “She promised that she wouldn’t tell, because she didn’t want people to think there was anything wrong with her.” An empty laugh, sardonic and hollow in a way that Ava’s never heard, escapes Bea’s lips. “Don’t worry, she said, I wouldn’t want people to think there was something wrong with you, either. I suppose in some twisted way, she still cared.”

The thing about Ava is that she’s always capable of more than she thinks she is. They said she’d never walked; now she runs across campus after Mary. They said she’d never be smart enough to go to university; now she’s in the front row of all her classes, her scholarship enough to make sure she doesn’t need to worry about her degree. They said she’d never make friends; now she has six of them who make every single day something more than she ever hoped.

They said she’d never fall in love; now she has Bea.

And when she doesn’t think she can go a little further, push a little harder, she thinks of Sister Frances and the way she told Ava that she’d never be capable of anything.

But she’s capable of this: setting everyone on fire who ever hurt Bea.

Her anger unleashes like a wildfire, and it swells in her chest so brightly that for a moment she can’t breathe. She can’t see straight. She’s imagining Penelope again but all of the softness is gone and she’s a cutting monster knocking Bea to the ground. She tightens her hand into a fist so tightly that sharp pinpricks echo in her palm from her fingernails.

She doesn’t realize she’s nearly growling until Bea’s fingers are working hers apart, smoothing them flat.

“Ava, it’s alright.”

“It’s not.” Her voice sounds stretched thin. “She’s not.”

“She’s gone.”

“But she’s still here.” Ava shakes her head insistently. “She’s still stuck in here.” She presses a single finger over Bea’s heart. “She still has all this space to be cruel. And when I meet her - not if. I’m going to find her - I’m going to make her suffer. I’m going to-”

“You can’t go on a one-woman crusade because someone hurt my feelings.”

Ava stares. “Hurt your- Bea, she didn’t hurt your feelings. She broke them.”

Bea straightens up slightly. “I’m not broken.”

Ava softens instantly, like someone turning out a light. “No. No, you’re not Bea. Of course you aren’t. There’s nothing wrong with you.” She ducks her head, catches Bea’s eyes, and smiles a little. “You’re incredible. You are spectacular. I promise you that.”

Bea exhales. “I’m embarrassed to say someone had such a hold on me.”

“That’s not embarrassing. That’s human.” Ava raises a cautious hand to Bea’s cheek again. “That’s wonderfully, perfectly human.”

“She just…” Bea takes a deep breath. Ava’s hand slips to her jawline. “My whole world ended in a single minute. Everything I did after that felt… fraught. I couldn’t trust her, couldn’t trust anything anymore. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if she was going to change her mind and tell someone how different, how terrible I was. She made me… nervous.”

She made me… nervous, Ava thinks.

Ava feels the soft skin between her eyes wrinkle as she works the words over in her mind. Of course Penelope made Bea nervous. Of course she made Bea doubt everything - every friendship, every interaction. Of course she held so much power over the way Bea engaged in the world. Of course she-

Oh.

Bea, who doesn’t linger too long when she’s looking at Ava. Bea, whose cheeks go pink when Ava dusts a hand down her bare shoulder. Beatrice, who is always the gentleman, always the one to hold back when they seem to be teetering on this invisible line of why aren’t we.

Of course Bea is going to be scared of what their friendship could become. Because she had this happen. She put her whole heart into something only to be told how wrong it was when it was over, how wrong she was, and that none of it was real.

Ava has been wondering why Bea is so afraid of what they could be. She thought if she proved herself, if she stayed when she could have run, then Bea would understand. She thought Bea would look at her and see someone worthy enough of falling in love with. She thought, some nights when the stars on the ceiling just weren’t enough light, that there was something wrong with her. Something that Bea wasn’t telling her because she was too nice to let Ava down so cruelly.

But it’s not her. It’s not Bea. It’s all the ghosts of Bea’s past stacked up against an ‘Enter’ door that are stopping Bea from pulling it open. It’s all these things outside of Ava’s control that’s holding them back.

It all comes together so neatly in her mind. Bea is not going to make the first move. She never was. She’s been leading Ava to this place, but she can’t make the final step. She’s loading the gun but she can’t pull the trigger. She’s putting this in Ava’s hands and hoping that Ava doesn’t break it in two.

Ava’s clumsy on a good day. Boisterous on others. But she’s also been practicing so hard at being still and maybe that was the wrong thing to do. Maybe Bea needs her to move, to run ahead and give in first.

Ava takes a deep breath, feeling it expand in her chest. It’s loud, roaring in her ears. Bea looks at her curiously. Maybe she doesn’t know that Ava has put it all together. Maybe she’s just as confused as Ava was a second ago. But Bea is smart. No, she’s not just smart, she’s Ava-smart. And she can read Ava like one of the dog-eared books littering their breakfast bar.

“Bea.” Her voice is remarkably steady.

Remarkable, because her whole body feels like it’s moving, vibrating at a frequency unable to be heard by the human ear. She catches Bea’s wrist in her fingers, locking them tightly around the delicate bone.

Bea is still, eyes dropping down to where their skin meets. “Yes?”

“Beatrice.”

Her hand is the thing shaking now as it rises up between them and slowly presses to Bea’s cheek, fingernails curling around her jaw. She feels it move as Bea swallows, hears the slight click of it as the silence magnifies. Bea’s eyes widen and she nearly pulls away, Ava’s hand on her face the only thing stopping her.

“Ava, I…”

Ava imagined their first kiss. She’s dreamed of it almost from the moment she met Bea, already wondering what it would be like before she knew who Bea really was - before she knew how good it was going to be. But she read something somewhere about how knowing someone enhanced the experience of loving them. How something steeped in history made the love richer. And the history she has with Bea may be short, but it is rich. Bea knows all her secrets and now she knows all of Bea’s.

So, fucking kiss her, a voice like Mary’s demands.

And isn’t Mary always telling her she has to listen better?

She only closes her eyes just before their lips touch. She wants to see Bea’s face and is rewarded with the fluttering of delicate eyelashes, the slight parting of Bea’s lips, the quiet hitch of her breath and the way her throat bobs as she tries to hold it back. Her hand slips to the back of Bea’s neck, pulling just until her top lip brushes Bea’s bottom one.

Her eyes slip closed as Bea’s bottom lip slips between hers and they’re kissing. They’re kissing. Bea is warm and soft and still. She stays there, intent in the way her mouth clings to Bea’s. I’m here. I’m kissing you. I’m choosing you. And you’re spectacular.

Bea shudders, her whole body coming alive, and she surges forward as Ava starts to pull away. The air goes out of her lungs and she tips backwards a little and she panics, unwilling to break apart now that Bea is kissing her back. But Bea’s hand goes past her, holding her up as she exhales against Ava’s mouth.

They’re so close together, their knees knocking. Bea’s mouth presses hot against hers, closed mouths clinging to each other. She can’t believe it, can’t believe they’re finally kissing and Bea isn’t running - she’s closer as Ava’s shoulders fall back against the bed, Bea’s hand curled around her shoulder as she settles against Ava’s side. Her free hand has found the hem of Ava’s shirt and her knuckles are brushing against the sensitive skin above Ava’s navel, steady and warm.

It’s Bea who takes the hesitant step forward, her lips parting just enough that Ava’s slide, and then Ava can feel Bea breathing as she kisses a little harder, mouths open against each other. It’s Bea who takes a less hesitant step again, the tip of her tongue ghosting along Ava’s bottom lip.

Ava pulled down the last brick, but Bea was a roaring river behind the dam and she kisses like she’s been uncorked. Her fingernails dig into the soft flesh beneath Ava’s shoulder, her knuckles press into Ava’s stomach, and she kisses with reckless abandon.

“Bea,” Ava whispers between kisses. She’s never been one for religion but maybe she’s been worshipping the wrong gods. Maybe this is who she should have been praying to all along.

Bea hums pleasantly against her mouth. She’s bolder now, kisses a little more frenzied. Ava understands. She tightens her hand at the base of Bea’s neck, pulls her closer. Her other hand slides down the flat of Bea’s stomach and curls around her hip bone, thumb stroking over the soft fabric of her sweatpants.

She thought kissing Bea would be amazing but she was wrong. It’s life-altering. She can see everything shifting to accommodate the way Bea’s lips press, hot and open-mouthed, against her own. She’s going to be completely altered after this, her life now in two separate parts: Before Kissing Bea and After Kissing Bea.

Bea’s hum burns into a low moan as Ava’s fingers dig more insistently into the dip of her hip. Ava is addicted now. She kisses harder, body starting to move as she rolls, a leg going over Bea’s until she’s bracketing Bea’s hips. She slides her mouth along Bea’s jaw to just below her ear, following the way Bea pants at the sensation of her teeth against smooth skin.

She needs to be closer. She needs nothing between them. She sits up, holding her weight as she works her fingers in her shirt and lifts it high and off her shoulders. She tosses it onto the corner, adding to the laundry pile, and sits above Bea in her bra with the flamingos on it, her chest heaving in anticipation.

Bea stares up at her, her face flushed and her lips bruised. Hesitant hands go to Ava’s waist, fingers flexing experimentally as they settle just above the hem of her shorts.

“Hi,” Ava whispers.

Bea nods, the line of her throat bobbing. Ava watches as her eyes track down her body, shoulders down to the sliver of skin just above her shorts. It takes her a minute to look back up and meet Ava’s eyes.

“Is this-?”

“Yes,” Bea interrupts. Her fingers feel purposeful now, like she’s burning her fingerprints into Ava’s skin. “I… I want this.”

A niggling thought works its way into Ava’s mind. Just a breath of hesitation. “You’re sure?”

Bea sits up, hands sliding to the small of her back. She blinks, eyes wide but focused. “Ava, I’ve wanted this for…”

“So long,” Ava finishes.

“So long.” Bea’s eyes flutter and she leans forward, mouth brushing over Ava’s collarbone. She feels her eyelashes against her throat. “Are you sure you want me?”

Me, she says unspoken. Me out of everyone else you could have.

Ava puts two strong fingers under Bea’s chin, lifts her face up until their eyes meet. I’ve never wanted anything more sounds too small. But it’s the only way she can think to say it. And when she does, Bea’s smile brightens the room.

Bea presses her lips to the pulse thudding in Ava’s neck, gentle teeth scraping against the skin. Ava breathes in sharply at the feeling of it, of Bea’s fingers working steadily up her back until they’re hesitantly touching the clasp of Ava’s bra. Ava is brave enough for both of them. She reaches back and loosens it, the fabric falling away from her chest. She tosses that away too.

Ava hisses softly when Bea’s fingers skate up her stomach to cup her breast. Her hand is burning, and Ava pushes into it so she can feel herself on fire. It only grows hotter when Bea kisses her collarbone again, teeth a little more insistent as she makes her way down to her own hand.

Ava pulls at the bottom of Bea’s shirt, freeing it from where she’s sitting on it, and pulls gracelessly until it’s over her head and somewhere by the door. She traces the lines of Bea’s navy bra until she finds the clasp and undoes it, flinging it away.

“I’m not going to make a joke about your boobs,” she whispers into Bea’s temple. Her tongue swirls over sensitive skin at Ava’s chest. “But just know that I really want to.”

Bea lifts her head. “I appreciate your restraint.”

“Saint Ava, they call me,” she babbles. “Patron Saint of-”

Her words are swallowed up in a gasp as Bea presses a hand down purposefully down on her waist. It sends a shiver through her and pulls a little bit of a moan from the hollow of her throat, Bea’s eyes widening slightly in surprise.

Ava tucks some of the loose strands framing Bea’s face back behind her ear, cheeks just a little red. “Before we… Before we do anything else, you need to know that I’m not going to be normal about this. Like, at all.”

Bea walks two fingers up her side, using ribs like steps. She moves them across her chest, brushing against her nipple. Ava shivers again. “I don’t know that I’m much interested in normal,” she admits.

Ava arches into her touch. “I’d hope not, considering how much you’re into me.”

She pauses, breath caught in her lungs as she waits for Bea’s reaction. Bea looks up with wide, imploring eyes. She searches for something on Ava’s face, and Ava hopes beyond hope that she finds it.

Not because she needs Bea’s hand to keep doing what it’s doing. Not because she wants to slip her fingers beneath Bea’s waistband. Not because she wants to hover over Bea and nose down the long stretch of what she’s sure is perfect skin from her chest to her belly button.

Because she wants all those things. But she also wants Bea to know she’s safe. That it’s okay to want her. That Ava is going to be someone she can trust, that Ava won’t treat her like something that’s going to break but will hold her gently regardless.

It feels big, to say that. But Bea is right there, a fingertip away, with her lips bruised and her hair starting to tangle around Ava’s fingers, and she thinks: I’m never going to come back from this. I’ll never be the same. What she feels is undeniable and real, the most real thing she has ever known and she would never, ever want to go back, even if she could.

“I am,” Bea finally says, voice a breathless whisper.

“A lot?” Ava asks, a sliver of neediness in her words.

Bea nods, unblinking. “A lot, yes.”

Ava makes a show of breathing a sigh of relief, a relieved smile on her face. “Well, that’s embarrassing for you.”

“Ava.”

Ava buries her reply in a kiss, fingers curling around Bea’s shoulders as she slowly inches her backward onto the bed until Ava is a shadow hovering above her. She wonders what the hollow of Bea’s throat tastes like, and she smiles into the kiss as she realizes she doesn’t need to ask. She breaks away from Bea’s mouth, kissing over the point of her chin and the underside of her jaw and down to the dip of her throat, teeth nipping at sensitive skin as Bea’s breath hitches. She can feel fingers flex at her waist and then tighten more purposefully.

Sensitive neck, she catalogs. She wants to make a list, grow it until she knows all of the places that cause Bea to make that breathless noise.

Bea’s fingers are insistent at her neck, drawing her back up until they’re kissing, harder than they have before. Bea kisses with lips and teeth, her tongue soothing away the nips, while one hand works its way to Ava’s waistband, curling into the thick denim fabric of her jeans.

She would have been satisfied with some heavy making out. Her skin is already burning where Bea’s bare chest is pressed against hers. She can live with this. But Bea doesn’t seem to be able to live with just this. Ava feels the back of her knuckles against her stomach as Bea pops the button of her jeans and works down the zipper. It’s so loud in the silence.

Ava kisses her way down Bea’s throat again then goes lower, tongue leading the way as she flicks the tip of it over a pebbled nipple. There it is again, that breathless noise. The fingers at her waistband freeze, tighten around the denim, and then release. Ava’s hand goes to Bea’s other breast, and she feels it press into her palm as Bea arches her back slightly.

Ava dares to go lower, kissing over the swell of Bea’s breast and down to her navel. She slides back on Bea’s legs, her fingertips light against Bea’s skin above her hip bones.

“Ava,” Bea breathes. She reaches down, hands reaching for Ava’s chin. Ava kisses the center of Bea’s palm as strong fingers curl around her jaw. “Ava.”

She doesn’t know what Bea’s trying to say, but she doesn’t need to. She can feel the heat radiating off Bea, the anticipation. She hooks two fingers in the waistband of Bea’s study-sweatpants, the ones she wears on all-nighters where she’s going to fall asleep sitting up, and starts to work them down a little as Bea’s hips lift off the bed.

She rests her forehead in the dip of Bea’s hip. She’s never believed in a God, but she does believe there’s a higher power out in the cosmos, and they’ve suddenly found her worthy of this gift: Bea stretched out across the sea of her comforter with her eyes closed and her chin tipped into the air as her chest rises and falls with increasingly harder breathes and her hips arching just slightly until Ava feels her against her forehead.

Because shit, this is holy.

A hand snakes its way into her hair, blunt fingernails scratching against her scalp. She can feel them trembling slightly. Ava wants to feel the whole of Bea tremble. She kisses down as she pulls Bea’s sweats down until they’re past the top of her thighs to her knees.

This feels like a moment they can’t come back from. And looking up at Bea, at the way those dark eyes stare into hers and the hand in her hair tightens slightly, she doesn’t want to come back from it. She wants to never, ever come back from this. She only wants what happens on past this moment.

She works Bea’s underwear down until they’re on the floor with her sweatpants in a tangled heap, and she noses her way lower until it’s nothing but heat and something slick against her tongue. Bea keens, hips lifting high off the bed, and Ava presses down hard against them with flat palms, keeping Bea down in one place.

The hand tightens in her hair, Bea’s knees tighten around her shoulders, trapping her in this crystalline moment. She rolls into it, tongue working more steadily as she feels Bea’s hips start to roll in response. She dips lower and soars higher, an unknown melody working into her mind and guiding her as Bea lets a sigh loosen from her throat.

Her hand climbs until she feels Bea’s breast against her palm, and she works her fingers over sensitive skin. Bea’s hand traps hers in place, palm burning. She can feel Bea’s legs start to tremble, and she licks a little more precisely, a little more purposefully.

She swirls, she drives forward and pulls away. She finds a rhythm until Bea’s whole body starts to tighten into an invisible line, pulled taut by an some unseen string. Ava doesn’t stop, even as Bea’s legs tighten around her. Even as that hand in her hair pulls a little harder. Even as Bea’s breathing swells into a hard pant and she lets out a strangled cry of Ava’s name.

She doesn’t stop until Bea’s body melts into loose muscles, until Bea’s hand goes slack in her hair. Everything is hot against her skin. Her tongue eases away, laving up and over Bea’s hip to her navel and charting a slow course to the center of her chest until she’s back at the hollow of Bea’s throat, teeth nipping as she feels Bea’s chest rise and fall rapidly against her own.

Bea draws another ragged breath, a hand up over her red face.

Ava pulls it away and kisses Bea hard, their mouths sliding together. Bea’s fingers curl around her throat, holding her in place when Ava tries to pull away. A tongue dips behind her teeth. Bea inhales sharply, stealing the air from Ava’s lungs.

Bea, still panting softly, hooks a leg under her and twists, rolling until Ava is on her back, and Bea is hovering over her, eyes dark and flashing.

The air punches its way out of Ava’s throat. If she’s cataloging the things that turn her on, this has just gone to the top of the list, right after the way Bea tastes and the feeling of her mouth sliding against hers.

“Bea.” Her voice is strangled and warped between them.

But Bea doesn’t answer her. She works her fingers purposefully down Ava’s front, sliding beneath her waistband without fanfare, without hesitation. Ava’s legs part with a half-breath, the other part of it stuck in her throat.

Then it’s nothing but an overwhelming sensation and the soft sound of Bea panting in her ear as Ava feels the world start to tighten around her. Bea’s breath is replaced by a white static, and there’s a fullness in her that she knows she’s going to be chasing for a while. Her hips lift and fall, a rhythm she knows without having to think about it. She rides it out, settles into it like she’s known it all her life and then-

And then-

Then she’s soaring, hips off the bed and her whole body shaking as she tries to focus on the rhythm again, the whole dance gone from her mind as it’s replaced by fireworks exploding, one after another. She can feel Bea’s hand on her, in her, and nothing else. She’s disconnected from reality except for where Bea is touching her. Floating weightlessly in an in-between where nothing but this feeling and Bea, hot against her side, exist.

She crashes back down, the world slamming back into her head as her legs clench, Bea’s hand between them. Strong fingers slide away and stroke across her thighs before they go up and curl around her side. Her breath comes hard, her pulse pounding in her head. She squeezes her eyes tightly, afraid to open them and see that the whole world has been turned upside down.

She wouldn’t care if it was, is the problem. She wouldn’t care if she suddenly found herself light years away where there was no oxygen in the solar system. As long as Bea is next to her, she doesn’t care.

She opens her eyes slowly and turns her head, finding Bea looking back at her with liquid pools for eyes.

“Hi,” she breathes, the word sticking in her throat.

Bea smiles softly. “Hi.”

“That was…” She inhales raggedly. “It’s never been like that.”

Because I’ve never been in love, she doesn’t say out loud.

Bea is biting on her bottom lip, eyes searching Ava’s face. “Me either,” she finally says.

Ava hums, content and boneless. “We are so doing that again. Soon,” she promises. “When I can feel my legs, it’s over for you.”

Bea laughs a little. “Okay, Ava.”

Ava lets her eyes close again and when she opens them, Bea is still looking at her. It doesn’t unsettle her. She lets Bea drink her in, and she lets her own eyes follow the lithe line of Bea’s body.

“Boobs,” Ava sighs. She curls one hand around Bea’s breast, no intention in the movement.

Bea wiggles around as if it tickles slightly, but she just settles more tightly against Ava’s side.

“I’m going to be insufferable,” she warns.

“So I can expect more jokes about my boobs.” Bea walks two fingers up her side and across her chest, pressing over where her heart is. “What else?”

Ava inhales shakily. “Anything else you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” she promises. “Whenever you want. I’ll be a court jester for you, babe.”

Bea’s face pinkens at the name, but she holds Ava’s gaze for another moment before she rests her head between Ava’s shoulder and neck. “I do find you marginally funny,” she admits lightly.

Ava grins, the smile lazy. “See? You need to tell more people how funny I am. Mary doesn’t believe it.”

The blush doesn’t fall from Bea’s face. “Please don’t talk about Mary while we’re naked.”

“Why not? She’ll think it’s hilarious.” But Ava stretches her neck and kisses Bea’s temple. “But okay. Just this time.”

“I appreciate it,” Bea murmurs. It’s familiar, the exasperation, but it’s tinted with this whole new feeling. A new depth. “Ava?”

“Hmmm,” Ava hums, sleep pressing against her body.

“I can tell you later.” Fingers brush hair off her damp forehead. “Close your eyes for a little bit.”

“Just a little,” she agrees. “And then I’m making you stir fry.”

Warm lips press against the hollow of her throat, humming an okay against her skin. Bea settles against her side as a warm and welcome weight.

She doesn’t remember falling asleep, but she knows she goes quietly and calmly, and that Bea is still there, still pressed against her side, molded to her like she was never meant to be anywhere else.

-

She wakes up to the smell of paint. Her eyes take a minute to adjust to the light in the corner but she pushes up on her elbow, the comforter over her sliding down to her waist. She blinks as Bea comes into focus.

“You’re painting?”

Bea turns. She’s barefoot, in her underwear again, and one of Ava’s cropped t-shirts that has a white cat in red shadows and I’m not cute I’m purr evil written on it. It hangs a little higher on her and Ava can see the swell of her breasts through it.

She’s the most beautiful woman Ava has ever seen.

And she’s blushing. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Ava sits up more fully, stretching her arms above her head. She watches, a slightly smirk on her face, as Bea’s eyes drop to her chest. But she doesn’t push. There’s time to tease Bea about staring at her boobs. All the time in the world, really.

“How long was I asleep?” She looks at the wall. Bea has nearly finished the whole thing.

“Not long.” Bea puts the paint can down on the stool, balancing the paintbrush on the edge of it. “But you looked…”

“Like a dead fish?” She’s aware of the way she sleeps, limbs thrown about and head rolling back. Years of being unable to move makes it so she never stops now, even sleeping.

“Peaceful,” Bea finishes. She’s hesitating, torn between wanting to do something and worrying about doing it.

So, Ava takes the lead, leaning in until she’s kissing Bea. She feels Bea sigh into it and knows it was the right move, that it’s what Bea wanted to do. She wants Bea to know she can do this whenever she wants. Bea kisses back almost instantly, sliding into an already-familiar rhythm.

She pulls away, a smile on her face. “Hi.”

Bea is a little breathless when she says hi back.

“I thought we weren’t painting.”

Bea looks back at the wall, most of it covered already. “You were right. About leaving our mark on this place. Someone needs to know we were here.”

“If we ever move out.”

Bea smiles. “If we ever move out.”

Ava pulls her legs up under her and Bea’s hand into her lap. “The only place I plan on moving is into your room. Or you can move in here, since we’re already decorating.”

“Oh?” Bea says. Her voice seems tight, like she’s holding something back.

A wiggle of doubt worms its way into her mind. “I mean, if you want to. No pressure. I’m more than happy to stay here and we can pretend like-”

“I don’t want to pretend,” Bea interrupts. She seems surprised by the firmness in her words and she sucks in her lips for a second before she shakes her head. “I wasn’t sure if you- I know you just kissed me but maybe that was you letting me down and-”

“Bea.” Ava waits until Bea’s mouth snaps closed. “I don’t want to pretend. I’ve been waiting months to kiss you, and unless you tell me otherwise, I plan on kissing you at least a hundred times a day.”

Some of the tension drains from Bea’s shoulders. “A hundred.”

“Give or take another hundred.” Ava grins. “One kiss for every time I’ve thought about kissing you the last seven months. Spread out, of course. Otherwise we’d probably be stuck in this apartment for days, just kissing.” She narrows her eyes playfully. “That might not be the worst thing to happen, though.”

“I’d miss finals,” Bea points out.

“Do you really need to pass them? Aren’t you teaching the classes at this point?”

Bea rolls her eyes, fond and exasperated. “Ava.”

“Bea.” She rolls her eyes back. “Fine. If you won’t lock yourself away to make out with me for days on end, what else are you willing to offer me?”

Bea is quiet for a long moment, her hand twisting in Ava’s as she thinks of something. Ava can see it pressing against her teeth, can practically feel the tension of whatever Bea wants to say radiating off her and lighting up the whole room. Ava waits it out patiently, knowing that whatever Bea has to say will be worth it.

She stays still. She waits. Bea has a way of bringing out all of the things in her that no one else has bothered to look for before. And after another minute, Bea looks up.

“Me.”

Ava’s heart clenches in her chest. “You.”

“I’m willing to offer me. Just… me. If you’re willing to accept.”

Ava turns Bea’s hand over in hers and presses two fingers to the thudding bundle of nerves at the base of her wrist. Bea looks down at where they meet and her eyes stay locked there for a moment while Ava watches her.

“If you think there’s anything just about you, then you don’t know the Beatrice I know,” Ava finally says. “Because I’ve never thought there was anything just about you. You always leave the light on for me. And you never make me do the dishes alone. And you don’t mind mushrooms on your pizza. You keep soda in the apartment and you always vacuum when I’m not home.”

A funny smile graces Bea’s face. “I think that makes me good for you.”

“The best,” she agrees. Her smile softens. “I’ve never thought there’s anything just about you. You’re incredibly kind, trustworthy. You’re humble - maybe too humble,” she jokes. “And considerate. And insanely intelligent. Hilarious. My best friend.” She pauses. “And I’m pretty sure you’re the love of my life.”

Bea inhales sharply.

“I know that’s, like, a lot. And I don’t need you to say it back, because I’m not trying to pressure you. But saying it all has lifted some kind of weight off my chest. Like, I didn’t know I was suffocating under not saying anything but I guess that I was,” she babbles. “But honestly, you don’t need to-”

“Ava,” Bea says patiently. She waits until Ava snaps her mouth shut and mimes zipping it closed. “My parents…”

“I’ll kill them,” Ava says cheerfully, looking guilty when Bea’s eyes cut to her. She closes her mouth again.

“My parents made me believe that love had to be earned. That if I wanted it, I had to work for it.” She takes a breath, astonishingly steady. “But you’ve never done that. You’ve never made me work for it. You’ve just… given it. It’s who you are.”

Ava’s smile wavers a little. “Because you don’t need to deserve love.”

“I didn’t know that before you.” Bea shakes her head. “I’ve had to unlearn a lot of things since meeting you. Like that. Like how to not be afraid. Like how to eat pizza. All these things that were so ingrained in who I was that I didn’t think I’d ever know anything different.” She reaches up and cups Ava’s cheek. “You changed all of that for me.”

She thinks Bea is saying I love you. She thinks Bea is saying You’re the love of my life, too.

And then Bea, spectacular Bea, looks into her eyes and says exactly that. “I love you. I’ve loved you since you spilled tea on my very important notes, and I’ve fallen in love with you every day since.”

Ava feels relief flood through her like a dam breaking. “That’s good. That’s really, really good. Because it would be embarrassing to be sitting here naked telling you how much I love you if you’re not going to say it back.”

Bea shakes her head but she’s smiling. “Ava.”

“Beatrice.” Ava curls a finger under Bea’s chin and beckons her forehead. She kisses her slowly and sweetly before she pulls back. “Kiss one of a hundred today.”

A blush spreads across Bea’s face. “You’re not really going to count, are you?”

“I’m going to keep a tally, that’s how serious I am.” She kisses Bea again. “Number two.”

Bae rolls her eyes and when Ava kisses her a third time, she opens her mouth, tongue brushing Ava’s bottom lip. It leaves her breathless when Bea pulls back.

“If I knew getting you in my room would have ended up like this, I would have tried a lot harder,” she says, eyes still closed.

Bea’s lips press against her cheek, then under her eye. “I wasn’t ready for that,” Bea whispers against her skin.

Ava doesn’t open her eyes. “I know you weren’t.”

Bea’s forehead rests against hers. “I am now.”

“It’s okay if you’re not. I won’t stop loving you.”

Bea’s breath ghosts across her mouth. “I am. I’ve never been ready for anything more in my life.”

“Not even your finals? Because you’re really ready for those, even if you think you aren’t.” She feels Bea start to argue more than she sees it, eyes still closed. “I’ve never met anyone who studies as much as you study. Seriously, you’re a beast when it comes to notecards and colored highlighters and-”

She does stop this time as Bea’s lips press against her. She hums, sinking into it. “Oh,” she says when Bea ebbs away. She finally opens her eyes.

Bea is smiling, beautiful and wide. “More than my finals. If only because I’m still not convinced of Thecla’s real contribution to modern religions.”

“I don’t know who Thecla is, but she’s never been less relevant to my interests right now.” Ava twists a strand of Bea’s hair, resting on her cheek, around her finger. “She could be Jesus’ mother for all I care.”

“She’s not-”

“I know she’s not.” Ava grins. “But I like the way you look when I say something wrong.” She presses her finger to the space between Bea’s eyes. “Like you’re not sure if you want to lecture me or kiss me. For the record, I’m very much in favor of the second option.”

Bea’s lips pull up in a slight smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ava breathes in deeply, letting the air fill her lungs as she stretches her arms over her head, noting the way Bea’s eyes follow the lift of her chest. She smiles to herself. Maybe Bea is a boob-girl. She’ll have to weaponize that knowledge for later. 

“I think I promised you stir fry.”

Bea opens her mouth to argue.

“And I’m hungry,” Ava says over her. “And can be trusted with a knife. So, I will be making you stir fry, because it’s the one thing I’m good at. And I want to impress you.”

Bea’s smile is fond, and Ava thinks back to the first time she saw it, how it was aimed at Camila and how she wished one day it would be a smile for her. And now here she is, Bea in her shirt and an I love you between them and a smile that is reserved just for her.

“So let me make you stir fry and you can come sit and study some more. In my shirt. Which, by the way, is very sexy.” She winks.

Bea rolls her eyes. “Mine was quite tangled up in the comforter, and this was just the most easily accessible.”

“You have a bedroom about a hundred feet away,” Ava feels the need to point out. Bea’s eyes narrow and Ava grins. “But for the record, I really like seeing you in it.”

Bea blushes a little but stands and opens Ava’s drawer, pulling out a pair of underwear - Ava’s favorite, yellow with pineapples on them - and then a big t-shirt she stole from Mary that has a pug with a pair of aviators on printed across the front. She hands them to Ava.

“No pants?” she asks as she pushes the comforter down and wriggles into her underwear. She pulls the t-shirt on, huffing her hair out of her face.

“No pants,” Bea says simply.

Oh. Okay. She grins and stands up, curling her hands around Bea’s waist and pulling her in. “This is going to be so good. I know it.”

Bea smiles, swaying slightly with her when Ava starts to go back and forth on her feet. “I know it too.” She presses her lips to Ava’s forehead and speaks against it. “Thank you, Ava,” she breathes.

Ava frowns. “For what?”

Bea pulls back and tucks a strand of Ava’s hair back behind her ear. “For waiting for me to be ready.”

“Of course I waited. I love you,” she says easily.

Bea’s smile widens. “I know.”

Ava beams back at her, feeling like everything has slotted into place so neatly. She never wants this moment to break, never wants it to go away. She wants to remain forever in this room with Bea in her arms and the rest of the world somewhere else doing whatever it is they’re doing. All that matters is this moment, these kisses between them, the possibility of what the next moment brings.

She can’t wait.

[dracocheesecake]

Can you write a drunk Kai fic?

Can I?! 👀

Warning: Some foul language, drunkenness, slightly suggestive innuendo

It was a nice night out: clear skies, the moonlight nothing short of inviting. The lanterns of the nearby town glowed warmly, red and yellow, beckoning the weary soldier forth to partake in what it had to offer. You just had to go out.

That was how Oogway had justified it to Kai, though really, he didn't need an excuse; for one who usually fussed so much over his rank, he never did miss an opportunity for drinks and women. Oogway barely had to say anything before Kai tossed aside the weapons he had been polishing and strolled out of the tent they shared with a small bag of money, bouncing it lightly in one hoof.

"Drinks on me," was all he said- and who was Oogway to refuse such an offer?

A few drinks in, though, he was starting to have his regrets. He counted from recent memory how many shots they had each taken from the clay jug set on their table. For himself: two. For Kai: four.

It was cheap huangjiu, and possibly even watered down. Oogway wasn't even feeling tipsy yet. Kai had had only four shots, and none too quick in succession of each other; He couldn't have gotten that drunk so quickly, not with his size, especially with their meal.

Oogway gently picked up the jug. It was still warm, and barely empty. He swished the wine around, then glanced up at Kai again. He was giggling to himself, a wide smile plastered on his face, the likes of which Oogway had never before seen from him. He chattered more than ever, too, apparently about nothing in particular- probably the heifers sitting not far from them- Oogway was too worried to notice.

He now had a problem on his hands. The longer he spent with Kai, the more apparent it became. They had leave, yes, but only for a certain time; they needed to be back to relieve their compatriots of the morning patrol before too long, and if they didn't show up at time- or showed up drunk, unable to serve- the punishment would be severe.

Oogway took the jug and subtly poured the rest of its contents into a potted plant nearby. Kai hadn't noticed- when he finally tore his eyes off the women in the bar, he just picked up the empty jug and tried to pour it into his cup. His brow furrowed in consternation. He tried a few more times, then peeked into the jug. He looked up at Oogway, with such an inappropriately woebegone expression that Oogway nearly burst into laughter.

"Where did the wine go?" He asked.

Oogway choked back his chortles. "...You drank it all, Kai," he said.

The bull blinked. "I did?"

"Yep. Every drop. Now let's head back. We've done what we came here to do, and we still have patrol. Maybe the walk will sober you up."

Kai snorted, that dopey smile returning. "I'm not drunk. Night's young. Lighten up. Besides, we haven't done everything there's to do yet."

That grin became a little more salacious, and he tossed his head towards a small group of heifers seated at a table nearby.

"What do you think?"

"I think we need to get going before the sergeant finds out we're not at our posts."

Kai glanced at Oogway, and his eyes widened. For one hopeful moment, he thought that maybe he had finally gotten through to him- a hope that was quickly dashed.

"Of course! You probably don't like heifers, huh? I don't know what you prefer."

He grinned again, then leaned over the table until Oogway could smell the faint hint of alcohol on his breath. His voice lowered into a conspiratorial whisper (or what Kai probably thought was a whisper).

"What do you like, Oogway? Anyone here catch your eye? Maybe that croc over there with the long tail, or that turtle with the nice curve to her shell, hmmm?"

He winked, and Oogway felt both abashed and annoyed at the same time. He rolled his eyes and pushed Kai so that he slumped back into his seat. The bull giggled, stomping his hooves. Oogway sighed and pinched the space between his brows. Already a headache was forming.

"We're getting you out of here," he grumbled under his breath, "with luck, by the time I drag your ass back to camp the sun will only be just beginning to rise."

He got up and grabbed Kai's arm, then somehow managed to get him out of the bar. They were standing in the street, and Oogway turned to him, about to grab him and resume the attempt to get back, but then Kai suddenly grabbed his face.

Oogway at first froze, confused. Then Kai started squeezing his face between the clefts on his hooves that acted as his forefinger and thumb.

"...I've never noticed before," he said, "but you're really squishy. What's up with that?"

He pulled on Oogway's cheeks, pinched them, squeezed them again, and continued to pull them. "Soooooooo squishy. OH!"

His eyes widened. "That's what the shell's for!" He released Oogway's face and then knocked on the shell, sending reverberations down his spine.

"PROTECT THE SQUISHY PARTS!" Kai laughed boisterously, then nearly lost his footing and stumbled back. Oogway reached for him, but Kai caught himself, leaning forward and putting his weight on Oogway. He chuckled.

"What d'ya need armor for, dumbass? You already have some!" Then he cackled again.

At this point, bending a little under Kai's weight, Oogway contemplated just whopping his ass and leaving him here, damn the consequences; but then he remembered that he was his friend, and he actually liked him too much (when he was sober) to see him face corporal punishment.

Or embarrassment. There was another band of soldiers, people they knew from their regimen, just coming down the street. If they saw Kai like this, as a drunken fool, he would never live it down. Without thinking, he shoved the yak into a runoff ditch in the side of the road and jumped in after him. It was dark out, and the lamps weren't that bright; if they laid low, they could get away without notice...

And then Kai burst into song.

Oogway would have been more shocked and impressed, if the timing weren't so terrible; Again, he wondered to himself why he bothered with him, and again had to appraise their budding friendship. Yet again (though with a little more effort of will this time), he recalled that he actually liked Kai. He wasn't a bad singer, either.

With that in mind, Oogway managed to drag Kai up the other side of the ditch before they were seen, and then they were in an alleyway, and from there out into a field. Conveniently, the moment they were alone was the time Kai stopped singing. He stumbled into a rice paddy, gasped, and started stomping, sending muddy water splashing everywhere.

"GAAAH! FUCK! WET!" He jumped up and immediately began clambering onto Oogway's shell- as best someone of his size could attempt on someone so much smaller than him. In other circumstances- if it had been someone else- Oogway would have laughed; now, though, being the one bearing the full, crushing brunt of Kai's weight, he failed to see the humor in it.

"It is WET, Oogway! SO WET!" Kai was saying.

Oogway tried to shrug the yak off, but he clambered up further and nearly sent them both tumbling. Oogway barely managed to set them back to rights. His legs were about to buckle, but he held on, groaning as Kai settled awkwardly on his shell.

"Yeah," he said, voice strained. "It's a rice field. It's supposed to be. Now get down from there! I'm not going to carry you."

Kai clung to him tighter and adjusted his balance. "I carry you all the time, do this one thing for me!"

"I'm not 700 pounds, Kai!"

"I'M 760!"

"Yeah- heavy!"

Kai snorted disdainfully, and a note of faint sobriety came through. "You're just weak! See, this is what I get, for wasting my time on a scrap of-"

Oogway chuckled and slapped the back of Kai's thigh. "There, see? You're sobering up some. Good. Maybe that means you can walk yourself." His legs were shaking under him, but he was holding out.

Kai grunted and started squirming. "DID YOU JUST SLAP MY ASS, MOTHERFUCKER? DO I LOOK LIKE A HOR-"

Kai overbalanced himself, and Oogway helped, gladly ridding himself of the burden. Kai flipped, landing on his back in the rice patty with a loud, harsh, wet slap. Now Oogway did laugh, finally- but not for long. It fell to him once more to get Kai up and onto his hooves, and the trek began again. This time Kai, perhaps humbled by the mudbath, remained blissfully silent.

By some miracle they had arrived to the outer perimeters, and by another only just managed to get in right on time to relieve their compatriot. But the night was not yet over- their superior would be over at some point, to check to see that they were both awake and at their posts; if they could just manage that, then would the ordeal finally be over.

Oh, but nothing could be that simple, could it? Snoring sounded off to his right, snoring he had begun to recognize, since he and Kai had been forced to share a tent. He turned, but Kai was standing on his feet. He couldn't have been the source of the sound; and yet, there could be no mistake.

Oogway furrowed his brow. The lamps were dim here, and spaced out far, allowing them a good swath of darkness where they were. Kai was standing, yes, but he was leaning on his heels, and his head was lolling back on his shoulders. He reached up to shake him, just to see...

"Attention!"

Oogway jumped and immediately turned to salute to their superior officer. The rhino seemed to be glaring down at them suspiciously- but then Oogway remembered that it was quite dark out, and that was just his usual expression, besides. Even still, he prayed to the gods to have mercy, and not let him pay close attention. Oogway saw him turn his head sharply towards Kai, and then he realized in a panic that Kai, being asleep still, hadn't saluted.

Oogway surreptitiously reached over and puppeted Kai's elbow, jerking his arm in a way that would hopefully pass as a salute in the dark. It worked; their superior officer let out a pleased snort and nodded towards them.

"Very good," he said, "keep this vigilance up, and the two of you will go far. At ease, soldiers."

Then he turned on his heel and left. Only then did Oogway breathe out a sigh of relief. For the rest of the watch, he let Kai doze off, and took full advantage of the luxury of silence. He watched as the world lightened into gray around them, and a thin sliver of sun began to peek over the horizon. The shadow of a fellow soldier was coming over to relieve them, and only then did Oogway venture to wake Kai.

He nudged him so he almost tipped over. "Kai, wake up."

Kai stumbled, snorting, then looked at Oogway, blinking slowly. "Hrm?"

"Come on. Let's go to bed."

Kai yawned and nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Bed...? Hrm?...Sure, sounds good." He yawned again, stumbled, and then caught himself. Oogway then realized that Kai still wasn't entirely sober.

He sighed and took his arm, the dried mud from the rice patties crumbling into his palm where it wasn't completely matted in Kai's fur- but he could worry about getting him clean later. Right now, he just wanted to sleep. He guided them both through the maze of tents until finally finding their own, and he pushed Kai inside before going in himself. After that, he didn't bother with him anymore; he flopped onto his cot and retreated into his shell, ready to forget the world in hard-earned slumber.

But then he felt Kai's weight land heavily next to him, and then one of his arms laid over his shell and pulled him in close. At first Oogway could only lay there, paralyzed by confusion- and even further when Kai started making some sort of noise. It was soft, seeming to originate from deep in either Kai's belly or chest. It would start up one moment, continue in a low growl, then fade away before starting up again; but it wasn't snoring this time.

And that night, Oogway learned four things:

Kai was a light weight.

He was a cuddler.

He could sing.

And yaks purr.

[phantomimey]

Not sure if this has been asked before but how old is Kai? I'm genuinely curious

It hasn’t! :3

When I typically draw her it’s post college for her lore so shes always somewhere in her mid to late 20s but I’d say baseline Kai is 28!

(It went back and forth a bit w me cuz I couldn’t decide if I wanted her more around my age or older but older won out!)

[so-long-soldier-writes]

What did you think of them bringing Kai back for a little bit in legacies?

Ooof! I have so many mixed emotions about Kai coming back for legacies. On one hand, I was glad to have him back; on the other, I was scared because I don't have the highest opinion of legacies. Of course, though, I watched his couple of episodes and it was more or less as expected.

So first, I liked the build-up, starting with Penelope learning about the merge. I liked the three second shot of Kai on a video camera that MG needed to use. And, I liked Josie finally learning about her "crazy uncle Kai," while Ric was trying hard to hold back this rather significant information from his daughters.

But then all the build-up went nowhere; there was no crazy reveal, nor outburst of emotion, it just smoothed itself out very gently, and certainly, very un-Gemini like. We saw some sassiness out of Josie towards Ric, but not much at all out of Lizzie. Josie actually meeting Kai was probably the opposite of what was expected. She was calm and teamed up with him over her own father, despite fearing the man for what her father told her about Kai and her biological mother (Jo). Kai, of course, was fully entertained by Josie's decision to trust him, and he toyed with her a lot, which was very in-character. He was less violent, however, and rather underwhelming.

Josie, at this point, had already met Jo, and greatly cherished the short bit of time they had together. So why would she team up with Kai, knowing what he did, as told to her by her father? It was just odd to me.

As for the Jade relationship part, that was also strange. I was already weirded out by Jade and Josie having a thing, despite her being Josie's babysitter. Kai didn't seem to have any attachment to Jade whatsoever; he was bored and curious, she was too, and they had nothing else to do in that prison world. I mean, good on him for finally losing his virginity, but it just seemed like filler detail. The whole hunger games concept was kind of cool; the fact that they hunt each other for sport, for fun. Because what else is there to do in an empty world where you can't die? That part was in-character, which I appreciated. And it's nice to know he's had some entertainment in his eternity of hell.

Shifting the topic, though, to the Malivore plotline... I already think the whole Malivore thing is stupid; Kai jumping into the pit and everyone forgetting who he is (but then somehow remembering again) was so terribly annoying, I didn't even want to finish the episodes. I'm glad he got out of the prison world, I just wish that whole plotline didn't exist, and I think he would've been smart enough to find an alternative method. However, I did like him giving Josie the ultimatum to "go dark" or to forget her options on getting out. I feel like Josie was on the path to darkness already - those two twins are both more like Kai than they'll ever know - and he just gave her a little push. Bitter, tired of being in prison worlds, bored Kai would 100% set his niece (whom he tried to kill twice) up in such a tricky situation and then bail, and I love that for him.

Despite me being stale about the Malivore inclusion in Kai's eps, I continued watching.

His bit of showing up to the Salvatore school was funny. I had really missed his instigating and banter with the people around him. The bits about Ric's wedding and the ascendant having a specific tune made me laugh, as did him taking his father's name to put up the act. Also, the careless beheading of the teddy bear. 😂

The following scene, however, when he fought Hope, was upsetting. Hope is strong, but not coven-leader-heretic strong, so her taking him down with little to no effort bugged me. Granted, it's somewhat untrained tribrid vs unsocialized heretic, so they both have advantages and disadvantages, but seeing how big and bad Kai was in season 6, taking her out should've been no problem. Kai with access to magic plus being undead would've made him stronger than he was just as a siphon witch, but they made him almost incapable in Legacies.

Furthermore, he didn't even seem that vengeful, which is wildly uncharacteristic. Post-1994 and post-1903, he raised absolute hell, but post-2018, he just seemed a little bored. If they were going to keep him as a villain and continue to revoke a redemption, they should've made him a real, fear-worthy villain. Not a less-than-intimidating "crazy uncle" with mismatched socks. (I adore his mismatched socks, but they only contributed to making the scary tvd villain into a watered down version that was appropriate for the younger-aged viewers that Legacies had.)

now, spoilers

At the end, when Ric kills him off for good, it was a hard watch. It was bad enough to watch him die the first time, so this time was even worse. I just felt that it was so uncharacteristic for him to get caught and get killed again. I mean, he's spent years fighting to survive in prison world after prison world, there's no way he'd be that easy to take down after the third escape, and especially now as a heretic. Bonnie getting an advantage on him in season 8, yes, because he had a weakness for her. But his nieces + Jade + Ric? No way.

So, in summary, I was glad to see him, but didn't like what they did to his character. Kai was so much more than the again, "crazy uncle" that Legacies made him out to be. Legacies' viewers, including some of the actors, I feel, don't get to see the side of him that was seen in TVD, where he was a neglected and isolated kid that became driven by a need for revenge (and to prove himself). His backstory isn't really brought up at all, and for someone who studies and adores his character like myself, it's upsetting. It seems like they just wanted him back as another enemy to take down in a day and move on, or to close a plothole that TVD had somewhat left open. It didn't feel like there was any purpose to bring him back other than for entertainment, especially for those who didn't like him or didn't know him at all.

Maybe I'm reading too much into it, or I'm too attached to him, but I wasn't a fan of it. I liked seeing him, that was it. But TVD itself was much better at crafting its villains and dividing its fans between "the good side" and "the bad side," (i.e. Damon vs Stefan in s1; Katherine vs the Mystic Falls' gang; Klaus, or Silas vs everyone). Legacies, on the other hand, feels like it pushes for [Saltzmans + the student body] vs [a handful of wacky monsters], and Kai got pulled into the mix. I haven't watched any further episodes since Kai's, and I don't plan on continuing the show. It doesn't measure up to TVD or TO at all, in my opinion.

[lemondragoncheesecake]

For the sinday ask. I know that it's tomorrow, but still, heheh ;)

21 with Kai/Daiyu and Kai/Tigress.

21.+ established ship question. in any/all verses, with any/all ships, have your character/s speak about that ship's intimate & sexual dynamic, and how they feel about it.

What Kai and Daiyu have is...complex. More than lust, much more, though neither will name it aloud. It's very intimate, that's for certain, though casual, especially in the way it's initiated. Sometimes Kai leads, other times he lets her.

One thing about being a Spirit Warrior that they both enjoy: the futility of trying to find the limit to the limitless. How long can they go in one session until they're out of breath? (Eternity, when you don't need to breathe). How many climaxes can they have in a row? (Endless, when you no longer feel exhaustion). How much can they handle? (Everything, turns out- or almost).

Kai thinks she mistakes him for some soft, gentle thing that deserves her love, though Daiyu actually knows much better; yet, there are times when she treats him that way, and others when post coitus she's left him unable to stand or feel anything below the belt ; the sweetness to match the harsh.

It's even better for them because they're both immortal, truly equals; the only question is when - if ever - they'll get sick of it, a question Kai asks himself. What will send it all crashing down? When will he make that final move, the straw that breaks the lizard's back, that finally revolts her enough to leave him? What will he do when that happens? What will she? They both have eternity.

For Kai and Tigress it's more coarse. Kai usually initiates(heaven knows Tigress won't). He really pushes her buttons- both anger and arousal. And he knows just how to do it, too.

But even then- though neither will say it outright- there's definitely affection between them...and much tension. It's more annoying for Tigress because Kai, despite her best attempts, can always see right through her and know exactly when she wants to blow off steam; she won't ask for it, but Kai knows, and that's when he extends an offer- usually in the pretense of a private sparring match...which, when Kai has his way, always ends with both of them much more sweaty than they should be...and then Kai invites her to bathe with him. How can she refuse?

[mutilatedcarapace]

Hello, you have a great taste in media! what's your top 5-10 films that people should watch?

HI!!!!! woah this is one of the biggest compliments i could get, thank you so much 🥹💕

i'm gonna try and narrow it down to more recent movies, otherwise this would be very tough.

annihilation (2018)

thelma (2017)

border (2018)

arrival (2016)

suspiria (2018)

under the skin (2013)

nope (2022)

ex machina (2014)

this is more of a "i think everyone should experience but not everyone will get or like" list but yeah!

[miniimight]

❝ CAN WE LEAVE ? ❞ feeling overstimulated at an event, you ask him to take you home

with deku, bakugou, todoroki ( pro heroes )

notes something short while i work on requests ! they are open so shoot me an ask with whatever scenario want me to write ! <3

it was so loud. it was too bright. and the music's vibration grated on your sanity with every rhythmic thump. there were too many people—too many bodies, so many conversations, and shit it was so hot. you felt as if you were floating, in a woozy state as you made your way over to your boyfriend, who was chatting with a couple friends.

IZUKU

at your hushed whisper, izuku immediately honed into your expression and body language. his eyebrows creased in concern as he guided the both of you to a corner. "what's wrong, love?"

you pursed your lips. "there's just... there's a lot of..." you sighed, unsure of how to phrase it.

he leaned into you, blocking you from the party scene behind him. "it's okay, sweetheart, we don't have to stay if you don't wanna." he read your mind and you couldn't be more grateful.

tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as your head pounded. "izuku..." you whined, massaging your temples.

deku shushed you and pulled you into his chest, helping you walk out of the venue. "let's go home."

"thanks..."

"no need to thank me." he smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead as he hoisted you up and into his arms. "i was over it a while ago."

you giggled and he flashed a goofy smile.

he took you to your side of the car before climbing in himself, turning down the radio and resting a loving hand on your thigh. "rest up."

you laughed softly. "if i sleep, i might not get up, even when we get home. you'd have to carry me."

he looked at you playfully, a smirk on his lips. "it's cute how you think that'd be a problem for me, love." he pat your thigh as if that was a done deal, pulling out into the road.

the comfortable silence lulled you to sleep.

BAKUGO

"home?" he asked.

you nodded shyly.

he stood up and said a brash goodbye to his friends, lacing your hand in his as he pulled you through the crowd. once you were both far away enough from the party, you heard each other loud and clear.

"how long did you wait?" he mused as he fished in his pockets for keys.

"what?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"how long did you wait to tell me?" he gave you a pointed look. you looked away and pursed your lips.

"you were having fun with your friends, and i really didn't want to cut it short..." you mumbled, your eyes stinging.

he opened your car door for you, leaning over the car as he watched you buckle your seatbelt. you stared up at him with glossy eyes and he softened, brushing his thumb over your cheek. the silence was welcomed as your eyes fluttered shut.

"don't be an idiot." he murmured. "just tell me the second you feel uncomfortable, 'kay?"

you leaned into his hands with a smile. "i will."

he smiled and shut your door, slipping into the driver's seat. he took your hand in his again, kissing your knuckles as he sped off.

TODOROKI

"now?" he cocked his head to the side. "are you not enjoying the party?"

your eyes squeezed shut as you shook your head, the movement alone making you feel dizzy.

"okay." he set his drink down. "okay, we can leave."

"thanks..." you followed him, unsure of his feelings at the moment. he opened your car door and closed it shut once you were inside, walking to the front of the car. you saw him out the windshield picking up a call, pacing slightly as he conversed.

you grew more nervous by the minute, wondering if you should've just grinned and gotten through it. he was having a good time catching up with his friends, after all.

finally, he sat in the driver's seat, sighing as he leaned back. you watched him with concern and a little bit of guilt.

"i'm sorry, i... we can go back if you want. really." you said.

he looked at you incredulously, his expression reading utter confusion. "but... i thought you weren't enjoying it?"

"well, i—" you stammered, collecting your thoughts. "you were having a great time with your friends and i should've thought of that before i asked to leave."

he shook his head and leaned towards you. "i'm just as tired as you are, darling." he smiled. "to be honest, i'm glad you asked to leave."

"who were you on call with?" you let curiosity get the better of you.

"midoriya, he was just concerned about you." he buckled his seatbelt and brought the car to life. he cast you a little smirk. "i'm afraid you're not very good at hiding your expressions, love."

your face heated as you turned back to face the windshield. he laughed softly, "it's alright. we both aren't."

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[livixcore]

All this for him? (idol!Hwang Hyunjin x f!reader)

✮ Summary: You pay your boyfriend a visit during his practice in the studio which ends up with you receiving another guys phone number while you're there. Jealousy takes over Hyunjin who decides to prove who you belong to.

✮ A/N: listennnn I know smut is a BOLD first post and first write but hear me out... mic and brush has the biggest chokehold on me and I couldn't help myself lols! anyways enjoyyy!!!! lemme know what you think pls and thank u x

✮ Pairing: Idol!HwangHyunjin x fem!reader, AFAB!reader, JealousBoyfriend!Hyunjin

✮ Genre: Smut, Angst (if you squint)

✮ W/C: 4.7k

Smut warnings under the cut!!!

✮ Warnings: choking, degradation. praise, jealous!Hyunjin, multiple orgasms, oral (m and f rec) unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it people!!) fingering, hair pulling, possessiveness. marking, softdom!Hyunjin, sub!reader, pet names (jagiya, angel, baby...) filming, squirting, creampie, not fully proofread mb x

It had been a couple of weeks since you had sat in the practice rooms to watch your boyfriend run through his choreo so when he called at 7pm and proposed the idea of you coming to watch his new solo performance practice you immediately jumped up to get ready. Somehow you managed to be out your apartment in 15 minutes and arriving at the studio another 30 minutes later.

“Finally you’re here! What took you so long? I called you about 45 minutes ago.” Hyunjin, in his dramatic state, jogged over to meet you at the door once he heard the door swing open. He clearly hadn’t noticed the drinks in your hands.

“Wow, okay so i’m guessing you don’t want this then?” you replied to his drama by shaking the drink around close to his face but before he could react you had pulled it away and strolled past him feeling his eyes burning into the back of your head as you placed your things onto the table at the side of the dance studio.

Still facing the table, you heard footsteps behind you as Hyunjin walked over seemingly more interested in the iced americano now inhabiting the table. You felt a pair of large ring adorned hands snake around your waist from behind and settle flat on your stomach as Hyunjin rested his head in the side of your neck.

“I’m sorry. I was just excited to have you here to watch me doing my solo choreography.” He mumbled into your neck as you leaned into his warmth, sighing comfortably.

“No it’s okay, I know baby. Thought you might’ve needed some energy plus the traffic getting here was crazy so I just thought an extra 10 minutes wouldn’t matter if it meant I wasn’t showing up empty handed.” You melted into his embrace and rested your hands on top of his on your stomach, tracing his rings under your fingertips. Being in a secret relationship and needing to be careful about it made moments like this even more special before reality set in. Hyunjin was quick to remember his choreographer was only stepping out for 10 minutes just before you arrived. He pressed a quick soft kiss to your neck and pulled away, grabbing the drink you had brought and took a sip.

“Thank you. I really needed this.” Just as he replied the door swung open and the choreographer walked in grinning as he spotted you standing in the corner.

“Ah! Y/N I didn’t know you were coming today? Hyunjin didn’t mention it.” He walked over pulling you into a hug and you shot a look in Hyunjin’s direction to catch him holding back a laugh. It’s not that you didn’t like Kai but he had always tried flirting with you every time you had came to the studio to watch your boyfriends dancing. Granted, Kai didn’t know you and Hyunjin were dating but still, he was shameless. You both had always told Kai you were just childhood friends (which isn’t exactly a lie) and you hung out often to just hide the fact you’re dating. He clearly believed it since the flirting was unavoidable despite Hyunjin’s eyes boring into the back of Kai.

“Haha yeah… I had no idea you’d be here either. I thought it was just Hyunjin otherwise I would’ve brought you a drink too.” You tried to cover up the fact you didn’t want him here. Hyunjin bit the straw of his drink smirking as you looked at him for help.

Kai cluelessly just offered a laugh and told you it’s no big deal as he had a coffee earlier already. Hyunjin set his own down and asked you to go sit down so he could show you the choreo for his solo stage.

The music started playing as he took his position in the middle of the floor. You had always admired him while he danced, swaying perfectly to the beat. The song he had for his solo stage was perfect for him. It had a jazz and expensive vibe to it and wasn’t bouncy or crazy in any way meaning his dancing was more mellow and slower, almost sensual. You sat back in your seat watching him run through the moves, his eyes moving to watch your reaction every so often.

Once he had gone through it the first time he was left with a layer of sweat covering his perfect features as he ran his fingers through his hair to move it away from his eyes showing you more of his face as he shot a smirk at you. He knew you loved him like this, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took. He just didn’t realise how turned on this side of him made you.

Obviously you had noticed Hyunjin’s eyes watching you but you had also caught on to Kai watching you too instead of keeping his eyes on his student. You had kept a mental note of Kai’s eyes on you in case Hyunjin brought it up later, which you knew he would. Not that you’re complaining.

“That was amazing! Seriously ba-“ You cut yourself off before you finished that sentence hoping Kai didn’t hear. Hyunjin definitely heard as his cheeks flushed red underneath his already red face from his dancing, you almost missed the new flustered look. Settling for clapping with a smile to show how good you thought it was instead, just incase anything slipped out accidentally.

“Can I just say… Y/N… You look beautiful today." Kai interrupted your appreciation with a compliment but immediately snapped his mouth shut. "Sorry I shouldn’t have said that.” He added, mumbling but you could still hear what he said. “Sorry…”

“Uh no it’s okay!” Trying to save the man from embarrassment. “Thank you… I just threw this on today though it’s nothing special.” You thanked him to smooth the tension, tugging on your tight cropped vest and baggy jeans.

Kai rubbed the back of his neck in response, feeling minimally better. “Well you look amazing to me.” He offered a smile.

Hyunjin coughed from beside you as he sat down with his drink in his hand. His tongue poked out between his lips and travelled to the corner of his mouth as he sat back, adjusting his position in the seat. You suddenly felt intimidated with his presence next to you. He felt you tense up as his thigh and fingers brushed the side of your leg, a silent reminder to behave.

“Uh anyways let’s go again Hyunjin!” Kai pulled him out of his thoughts as he had an internal argument with himself to have control and not kiss you in front of the older man. He shot a subtle glance your way and winked as he stood up and walked back to the middle of the room.

About an hour went by when finally they decided to wrap up practice and head home for the day. They had gone over a couple other dances too just to cover some moves.

The entire time Kai’s gaze was still lingering on you which hadn’t gone unnoticed by you or Hyunjin. When it came to Kai leaving he had walked over and gently pulled you into another hug. “I meant it when I said you looked beautiful earlier.” You felt his hands sliding further down your back and a hand slip into the back pocket of your jeans and then quickly pull out again. “Come again soon, yeah?”. All you could do was awkwardly laugh and nod your head as he pulled back. He then walked over to Hyunjin to sort out their next practice session and then left the building which in turn left an insane amount of tension in the room.

You tucked your hand into the same pocket Kai’s hand had just been in and pulled out a piece of folded up paper. He had scribbled his name, phone number and a small “;)” onto it. Fuck. You quickly folded it up and held onto it in shock.

Before you had time to properly react Hyunjin had already crossed the room and ripped the paper from your hands. “What’s this?” He asked scanning his eyes over the paper, a deep laugh erupting from his chest as he read it. You stopped breathing as you waited for his reaction.

He shoved the paper into his own pocket as he kept his eyes trained on you. You stood frozen in front of him. “Aw, don’t get shy now. You had no problem replying to Kai’s very obvious flirting earlier.” He tilted his head to the side slightly still looking down at you. “I just threw this on today though.” He was mocking you but instead of getting offended you tried to press your thighs together in hopes of him not noticing.

His fingers came up to trace your jaw before finally wrapping around your throat slightly, pressing down on the sides and pulling you towards him to crash his lips onto yours hungrily. You immediately melted into his lips, gasping as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip which allowed him to slip it into your mouth.

You knew replying to Kai was like adding fuel to fire but you also knew (or hoped) it would end like this, with you wrapped around his finger. Teasing was in your nature when it came to Hyunjin.

With his free hand he unbuttoned your jeans and slipped his hand past the waistband, lightly ghosting his fingers over your clothed core feeling the growing wet patch. You felt him smirk against your lips. “All this for him, hm? Couldn’t help yourself feeling his hands over you? Sliding into your pocket and touching your ass?” The same smirk on his lips as he spoke and waited for your reply. "Enjoyed him watching you the entire time too, huh?" He added but all you could let out was a strained moan as his fingers continued their attack over your underwear. He pulled his hand out of your jeans, “Use your words Y/N.”

“N… no never. Only for you.” You whined, missing his touch. “I’m only yours.”

Just as you allowed your hands to wander across Hyunjin’s torso he pulled away from you and walked over to the seats to sit down, dragging you along with him to straddle his lap. “Are you gonna be a good girl and prove you’re mine, jagiya?” All you could do was hum in response as you attached your lips to his neck, sucking sharply. But before any serious damage could be done he had raked his fingers through your hair at your scalp and pulled your head back, the sting causing your eyes to tear up a little.

He wasted no time attacking your neck with the same urgency you had done to him. You whimpered as his lips reached just under your ear as he sucked and nibbled which left a mark behind. His tongue swiped over the same spot to soothe it before he travelled lower to the small part of your exposed collarbone to add another mark. Your hands found themselves in Hyunjin’s hair as you bit your lip and held back a moan.

You felt his hand gripping onto your waist, digging his fingers in which you hoped would leave a bruise behind causing you to start moving your hips on his lap needing more friction. A smile formed on his lips as he stopped kissing your collarbone and looked up to make eye contact with you as he grabbed the hem of your shirt, lifting it slightly. Giving him an eager nod he lifted your shirt off your body, immediately dropping his eyes back to your chest.

"No bra? Bet you came here hoping Kai would be here so he could see you like this hm? Such a tease.." Hyunjin hummed before continuing his kisses along your collarbone and down your chest. Before you could reply he had ghosted his lips across one of your nipples, laughing lightly as he heard your breathing hitch. Finally he took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the sensitive bud and watching your reaction.

"Hyune..." You whined out, pleading for more.

"I know angel, I know." His hand slipped past your waistband once more going back to touch you through your underwear where you need him most. Letting out a shuddered breath you dropped your head on his shoulder muffling any sound coming from your lips. "Needy today aren't you? Craving my attention that badly? Knowing how to rile me up perfectly."

Pushing your underwear to the side his fingers finally touched your clit, rubbing small circles around it as you moaned and let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. You gripped his forearm as his fingers continued circling your clit drawing the most lewd noises from your mouth as you dug your nails into his arm, forming little crescent moons underneath. His fingers danced around your entrance before he finally slipped a finger inside of you, pulling it out enough to add a second.

You squealed at the new sensation as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you at a steady pace. After a couple more thrusts of his fingers he started to curl them, feeling that spongey spot inside that had you gasping for air as his name fell from your lips like a prayer.

"Hyune please... need to cum." You begged, panting as you spoke with your chest rising and falling erratically. Your grip loosened on his arm and instead drifted to his very obviously hard dick in his pants, tracing the shape with your nails.

His hand in your pants faltered slightly at the new sensation but quickly found rhythm again. The fingers in your underwear continued to pump in and out of you, his thumb playing with your clit, as the other hand came up to cradle the back of your head and bring you forward so he could catch your lips with his in a slow, gentle kiss, swallowing your moans as your orgasm built up in the pit of your stomach.

"Cum for me angel. Been such a good girl." He whispered against your lips and with that you let go, the knot in your stomach finally exploding as your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you saw stars and his fingers slowed to help you ride out your orgasm with a high pitch moan ringing through the echoing studio.

He pulled his fingers out of you, slipping them past his lips and sucking them clean. A groan fell from his lips at the taste of you on his fingers. The sight was pornographic, you couldn’t help but crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on him. You deepened the kiss by grabbing the back of his neck to angle his head so you could take over a little, thanking him for the earth shattering orgasm he just gave you.

After you had caught your breath you wasted no time standing up with slightly shaky legs and dragging your jeans and panties down off your body in one swift motion, ridding yourself of the material and kicking it off to the side. Sinking to your knees in front of Hyunjin, your hands started off going up his inner thighs teasingly before finally reaching the tent in his sweatpants.

"Wanna make you feel good Hyune, prove how good I can be for you. Only you." You blinked up at him, resting your cheek against his thigh as your hand kept tracing over his dick with your fingers. "Please. Wanna taste you."

He only hummed in response, leaning over and putting his hand on the back of your neck to pull you in for a searing kiss. You bit down on his bottom lip causing him to groan into your mouth and pull back to look at you with lust filled eyes before sitting back again, waiting for you to continue with what you had begged for.

Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his sweats you pulled them down to his ankles leaving him in just his shirt and boxers. You started kissing his thigh, working your way towards his lower stomach before finally dipping into the waistband of his boxers and freeing his dick from the confines. Your mouth watered at the sight. He wasn’t too long but definitely longer than average with the perfect girth.

Licking a long stripe up the underside of his cock you made your way to the tip and giving it a light kiss, licking your lips after and tasting the salty precum that had transferred onto your mouth.

“Angel don’t tease.” He groaned, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your breath fanning over where he needed you most. Hyunjin wasn’t usually impatient and had a good amount of self restraint and control but today was different, he felt an uncontrollable need for you that had to be fulfilled.

Your tongue darted out of your mouth giving the tip of his dick small kitten licks before finally wrapping your lips around the head sucking lightly. A groan slipped past Hyunjin’s lips as his head tipped back slightly faltering but brought it back up quickly to watch you with your mouth wrapped around his length. Deciding to give him what he wants you finally sank your mouth down on his leaking cock, using your hand to accommodate for what you couldn’t fit.

“F…fuck y/n, always s.. so perfect for me huh? Always so good with that pretty mouth of yours.” His voice shuddered as he spoke, bringing his hands through your hair and creating a makeshift ponytail. “Does my pretty girl want my cum down her throat? Is that what my jagiya wants?”

You hummed in response and the vibrations caused Hyunjin to shiver and his grip to tighten on your hair, pulling at the strands. The mix of his hands pulling on your hair and the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat caused tears to well in your eyes as they fluttered open and you looked up at him through your lashes, the eye contact enough to have you gushing with arousal.

It didn’t take long for a string of curses mixed with your name to come out of Hyunjin’s mouth as his hips began to thrust up into your mouth, chasing his high. After just a couple thrusts his hips stilled and you continued to pump his length, keeping your mouth over the tip as he painted the back of your throat white. You let him ride out the orgasm and took your mouth off of him with a pop, saving him from overstimulation.

Once he had caught his breath you brought your face close to his, sticking your tongue out to show his release held in your mouth before swallowing it down and showing him it was gone causing him to smirk and once again crash his mouth onto yours, all tongue and teeth.

He was quick to wrap his arms around your waist and roll you over him gently so you were on your back along the seat as he hovered above you. Grabbing his shirt by the back of the collar, he pulled it off in one motion, leaving he finally completely bare.

The new position allowed him to easily kiss down your body, starting with the corner of your mouth slowly making his way to the sensitive spot beneath your ear where he has sucked a mark into earlier. You whined at the contact in the increasingly sensitive area but he was quick to soothe any discomfort with his tongue, lapping over the area softly.

His trail of kisses continued down your body, between the valley of your breasts and across your belly. You felt even more bare if that was even possible under his stare as he kept eye contact with you the entire time he kissed along your pelvis and hips, finally coming close to your soaking core.

Feeling his breath fanning over your most sensitive area your hands surged down to thread through his hair, like an automatic reaction. He smirked at you before his plump lips finally came into contact with your clit, giving it soft kisses before sticking his tongue out, running it through your folds causing your back to arch off the seat you were laying on.

You were practically non-verbal at this point except the moans and whines slipping past your bruised lips, still reeling from the previous orgasm he had given you and the fact you didn’t give yourself enough time to recover before jumping on him.

Hyunjin got encouragement from your moans and hands tugging his hair and continued his assault on your clit with his mouth, rolling it between his lips and teeth, softly biting on it every so often. You felt him getting hard again as his length pressed into your inner calf from the way he was leaning over you.

With one hand holding your hips in place his other came up to grip your chest, rolling your nipple between his fingers and gripping the mounds of flesh. The added stimulation only caused you to moan loader, the sounds reverberating off the walls making it sound way louder.

You began to absentmindedly grind against his face, feeling him smile against you and chuckle slightly at your eagerness which in turn added an extra vibration to your clit which was enough to send you over the edge for the second time tonight. He let go of you clit with a loud smack of his lips and brought his face close to yours with a shit-eating grin plastered on it despite your arousal soaking his lips and chin.

“Baby are you alright?” He softly asked, stroking the side of his your face and ignoring his again painfully hard dick. Eating you out was one of his favourite things in bed so it’s no wonder he was hard again so quickly. He always cared more about how you were feeling rather than his own feelings at times like this, he needed you to be comfortable.

“Hyunnie, ‘m so so good. Need you in me… please” You had gotten to the point where all you craved was your boyfriend filling you up and you were so close yet to getting it.

“Such a greedy girl wanting my dick to fill her up even though I’ve given you two orgasms already. Don’t worry jagi I’ll fill you up real nice, it’ll be all you can remember all week.” His words hit you deep in your core as he grabbed your plush thighs, pushing them back to meet your chest and he lined himself up with your leaking cunt.

Grabbing the base of his dick he ran the tip through your folds, coating himself in your slick before finally pushing into you slowly and bottoming out in one thrust. You both moaned in unison at the stretch and tightness of your heat encapsulating him, sucking him in.

“Baby move. P…please move Hyune.” You begged, your hands going to grab his thighs as they snapped against your ass from the position he had you in. He pulled out halfway and quickly pushed in again. You could feel every vein of his length dragging along your walls as you clenched down on him feeling your slick leaking out of you at each thrust of Hyunjin’s hips.

Suddenly his pace picked up, his hips snapping into you at a wild rate.

“Pussy was just made for me right angel? Think we should show your little loverboy just how well you take my dick huh?” His thrusts faltered as he reached for his phone from next to your hip. He was quick to open the camera app and two seconds later you heard the telltale sign of a video starting. “Jagiya’s gone on dumb on my cock like the cock drunk slut she is. Who does this cunt belong to baby? Whose dick are you taking so well.” He gasped out through thrusts, holding his phone steady enough to capture him disappearing inside of you, bottoming out with each thrust.

“Y…yours! Hyunjin baby please don’t stop. Belongs t…to you ‘nd only y…you.” You shifted your hips up to meet his thrust, the new angle causing him to reach the spot inside you that had you hurtling towards your third orgasm. The pressure building was the most you’d felt all day. Hyunjin’s thrusts got sloppy as he neared his own release, the camera picking up on the slowed pace.

“Baby ‘m gonna cum quick if you keep clenching on me like that.” He groaned, trying to keep his pace while you drove him crazy.

“Cum with me Hyune… please baby.” You weren’t going to last much longer and you’d always loved the intimacy you felt whenever you and Hyunjin finished together. He knew this about you which is why not even a second later he had brought his free hand up to slot with yours, interlocking you fingers and giving them a slight squeeze, a silent sign of his that you’d caught onto meaning you could cum.

You chased your high, back arching off the seat as the pressure inside of you exploded harder than you’d ever came before, your arousal gushing out and coating your boyfriend’s abdomen and upper thighs. That was enough to have Hyunjin’s hips stilling as he bottomed out for a final time and released inside of you with a low grunt, giving you a couple more shallow thrusts to ride it out before pulling out of you completely. You whined as your legs spasmed and you felt empty again, your hole fluttering around nothing as both of your releases leaked out of you.

He was quick to get the sight of you fucked out with the mess between your shaky legs within the view of his camera before he stopped the video and crawled up to lay beside you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you close.

Your brain hadn’t fully registered anything for the past couple minutes as you caught your breath, still reeling from your final orgasm. Eventually you could feel a hand stroking the side of your face and registered the warm breath fanning across your neck.

“Mmh… baby.” Your voice came out as barely a whisper. Hyunjin quickly sat up and grabbed the water bottle on the nearby table and took off the cap, holding it up to your mouth and tipping it in, soothing your burning throat. “Thank you.” You smiled and sat up slightly, feeling the mess on the seat beneath you.

“y/n that was single handedly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m gonna need you to do that every time we fuck for the foreseeable future.”

“HYUNE! You can’t just say that you pabo!” You laughed while lightly smacking his shoulder causing him to laugh.

“Sorry sorry! Seriously though baby I had no idea you could do that.” Your face flushed with embarrassment but Hyunjin was quick to realise as he grabbed your face with both hands and ran his thumbs across your cheeks, leaning in to give your lips a gentle kiss. “Kinda wish Kai was here to see how good you were for me… It would be a real shame if this video somehow ended up in his text messages though.” Hyunjin shrugged, grabbing his phone and pretended to send the video.

“That would be cruel, the poor guy wouldn’t be able to face us normally for a long time.” Truth be told though, you wanted him to see. Maybe it would finally put a stop to his ruthless flirting and he could move on. You didn’t think Hyunjin would actually send it though so you didn’t bother to try grab the phone from him.

“Yeah I think you’re right. Oh well.” He shrugged and the noise of a text being sent caused your head to whip around and look at him with wide eyes.

“Oh my god Hyunjin tell me you didn’t. He literally going to stop being the groups choreographer!” You said in disbelief, still finding the humour in the situation though but more so in the fact your boyfriend was hot when he’s jealous.

“Aw whoops! Oh well! Come on princess let’s get you cleaned up and then home for a proper bath, maybe some nice dinner too.” He pecked your cheek and started to grab everything you had flung across the room. Aftercare in the company building was always quick and very minimal but you knew the minute you walked into your apartment you would be treated well by your loving boyfriend.

a/n: thank you so much for reading my first one-shot! i’m gonna go crawl into a hole after posting this and if it does bad then i’ll maybe die off from embarrassment! i’m trying to get this account up and running now starting with this post and then working on my other wips so we’ll see what happens. feedback would be very much appreciated, thank youuuu!

[dixons-sunshine]

Bedtime Shenanigans | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: There was no denying that when it came to parenthood, Daryl was an amazing dad. Your daughter adored him and he absolutely adored his daughter, maybe a bit too much. He let her get away with a lot, so to get back at him, you placed him on a duty more impossible than fighting off a herd with your bare fists—getting your daughter ready for bed.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, no arc in particular.

Warnings: Like one swear word.

Word count: 964.

A/n: Requested by @darylsdelts. This isn't really that good but I hope you like it nonetheless! I really wanted to get this done for you. (I haven't forgotten the uncle!Daryl thing you sent my way. I haven't completed season 11 yet so I'm not too comfortable with writing for the Commonwealth yet. As soon as I finish it, it will be written. Sorry for the wait!)

“Hazelnut, I'mma need ya to calm down now. S'bedtime,” Daryl practically begged for the hundredth time in five minutes, desperately trying to calm down the hyperactive three year old that took great pleasure in doing anything but what was asked.

Hazel giggled and continued jumping on the bed, completely disregarding her father's request. “No,” she laughed as she continued jumping, nearly falling off of the bed in her excitement.

Daryl quickly moved to steady her to prevent the painful tumble to the ground, and sighed deeply when Hazel just went about jumping on the bed again. “Hazel, please,” he pleaded again. “Jus' please. M'tired and wanna go to bed as well. We can play again tomorrow, 'kay?”

Hazel slowed down and Daryl thanked his lucky stars. However, it was all a ruse, because his little girl gave him a big, toothy smile, a mischievous laugh, and resumed with her prior activities. “No.”

Daryl groaned and felt like tearing his own hair out. He loved his daughter with his whole heart. He loved his little girl more than almost anything else. However, her steadfast refusal to settle down for the night was wearing him thin, and he was beginning to believe your earlier statement—saying yes to everything she asked and allowing her to do whatever she wanted would make her more prone to acting up. Daryl didn't want to believe what you had told him, but now he was starting to believe what you had told him was the truth.

“Hazel, sweetheart,” Daryl began in a soft voice, trying to push the irritation that was starting to form in him away. She was only a toddler. She didn't know any better. Yelling at her wouldn't get him anywhere. He sat down on the bed, the movement causing Hazel to fall flat on the bed, her giggles echoing through the small room. “Ya remember wha' Mama told ya the other day?” Hazel nodded and clambered into Daryl's lap, wrapping her small arms around his neck. Daryl smiled and hugged her back, his big hand softly caressing her back. “Then wha' did she say?”

“Bedtime is for sleep. Bedtime means to rest and be ready for more play time tomorrow,” Hazel relaid the message you had told her countless times before. “But, Daddy, I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna keep playing with you. We need to finish our teaparty.”

“I know, Hazelnut, I know,” Daryl whispered into her ear, slightly rocking from side to side. “But s'late. Both'a us need to go to bed or else we won't be in the mood to play tomorrow. Ya get me?”

Hazel nodded and Daryl breathed a sigh of relief. However, it was proved to be another ruse, because Hazel withdrew from Daryl's hold and started jumping around on the bed again, mischievous giggles falling from her lips. “No. Play time!”

Daryl sighed and shut his eyes. He was in for a long night.

You laughed as Daryl flopped down on the bed, the archer moving to cuddle up to you, his head finding its place on your chest. You placed your book down on the bedside table and wrapped your arms around your husband, your fingers softly threading through his hair. “Rough night?” you asked playfully, laughing when he groaned. “I'm impressed. Only took you an hour to get her settled down. I thought it would take longer.”

“She wouldn't listen,” he grumbled into your chest. “I love her, but she can be a real gremlin. Dun' feed 'em after midnight, righ'?” Daryl smiled when he heard you laugh. “Ya were righ'. I can't always let her do wha' she wants. I need to establish some rules with her.”

You smiled and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. “You know it doesn't mean that you're a bad dad, right?” When Daryl didn't reply, you lifted his head to look into his eyes. “Hey, I mean it. Rules are simply made so that she can learn right from wrong. Do you know how hard it is for me to say no to her? I wanna give her everything she wants, but I can't, and that's okay. Rules are good. Rules help her learn that eating messily isn't always acceptable. Rules help her learn that refusing bath time is only okay for daddy, because daddy is too stubborn to listen to reason.”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Guess I can tell her to stop refusin' bath time.” He stopped and sent you an apologetic look. “M'sorry fer teachin' her the wrong things. I promise I'll be better.”

You smiled and pressed another kiss to his forehead. “I know you will. I love you.”

“I love ya too, Sunshine. So fuckin' much.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[biolumien]

Hi!! Your rooftop smoke fic with Hoshina was just superb. 😭💖

Was wondering If could request a scenario where they had been mutually pining for one another. And they'd, on more than one occasion catch each other's eyes across the room. And a handful of people from the Defense Force notices. Cause could they be more obvious?

Whether that would end up angsty or with a happy ending is up to you! I love the way you write for Hoshina. You capture him pretty perfectly haha

Stay safe and healthy!!

notes: omg... thank you for your compliments... it means smsm! uhh... well. this kinda took on a life of its own, i'm sorry. i hope you don't mind ;-;;

say it! come on, say it!

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader alternatively: romcom except then i smacked it so hard with angst at the end. sorry. word count: 2400

“you need to close your mouth when you’re staring.” you feel the ice-cold touch of a can press against your cheek, and you shriek as you stare up at–

“ah, fuck. i’m not staring, narumi,” you mutter, taking the soda can from him. narumi seemed less than convinced, his eyes barely visible from underneath his bangs. 

“o-kay. and you’re totally not ogling hoshina with googly eyes.” narumi cracks open his own soda, taking a long sip from the can. “why don’t you just date already? i’m gonna be honest, i’m sick of you looking at him like that. it’s boring, bland, predictable… fuckin’ hate that will they won’t they bullshit.” 

“i can’t,” you complain dramatically. 

hoshina, from the other side of the room, was talking to captain ashiro while examining some paperwork. occasionally, okonogi would come over, point out some new development, and there’d seem to be another heated debate between the three. you always liked seeing hoshina in his element—whether it be instructing other officers, training with his blades, or awkwardly not making eye contact with him when he spoke to you. 

“like hell you can’t!” narumi hissed, reaching out to put you in a headlock. “stop looking at him like that!” 

“like hell what? who’s looking at who?” 

hoshina had come over, staring at the two of you, right as narumi’s arm was beginning to wrap around your neck. narumi immediately flew back from you as you laughed nervously. 

“uhh, like hell i, umm…” you fumbled for an answer, staring up at hoshina nervously. why had he just come over? why was he looking at you like that? your lips quiver for a moment.

“oh, relax!” hoshina clapped you across the back, laughing. “you look so nervous! like you’ve just confessed you had some very, very personal feelings or something! that’s adorable…” 

let me die, you think furtively as hoshina’s hand brushes your shoulder. narumi’s face was pinched. 

“don’t let narumi bully you too much; he’s just a little lowlife, after all,” hoshina said with teasing venom in his voice. 

“you bitch,” narumi growled. “i have no idea how they see anything in y—” his face paled as the words left his lips, and you think you almost see god for a minute. you hide your face with your hands, waiting for hoshina’s verdict, and you swear that the next moment you get, you were going to make narumi very sorry for spilling your metaphorical, hell, call them literal at this point, guts out in the open. 

“hmm?” hoshina hums. the world fell silent—at least silent to you, in any case, your eardrums pounding in time with your heartbeat. “well—”

“vice captain hoshina!” mina ashiro’s voice was sharp and piercing. “time to go.” 

“huh?” hoshina cocks his head. “ah, of course, captain. be right there!” 

he turned to you and narumi with a small smile, one of his fangs peeking out for a moment before waving his fingers. 

“see you.” he nods his head to you specifically before he turns away. 

you wait until you are absolutely, absolutely sure he’s out of earshot before turning on narumi, throwing your soda can at his head. 

“fuck!” narumi swore. “what the fuck was that for?” 

“you idiot! why did you basically confess to him for me?!” you hiss. “i’m trying to count on you to not run your damn mouth!” 

“hoshina’s an idiot,” narumi says sullenly. “i bet he didn’t even notice.” 

[…]

the walk through the hallway was silent, up until—

“you’re red,” mina says, her hand reaching for her skirt pocket to pull out her phone. 

“stop,” hoshina’s voice is strangled, far more strangled than he’d like it to be. “no, i’m serious. no photos. you’ll need to talk to my PR agent about that.” hoshina’s ears were tinged pink, and he raised his hands to try and hide the flush. 

“hoshina,” okonogi sounded disapproving, “why don’t you just confess already? i’m getting tired watching you get so concerned over them…” 

“ha! confess,” hoshina laughs. “and what good would that do? i’m not exactly peak romance material, you know this…” 

“the only one not noticing that is you, hoshina,” mina mutters. “you get all sullen when they leave and happy when they come back, but you have to act like a… hmm… what does he act like, okonogi?” 

hoshina’s eyes went wide as okonogi hummed. 

“a cat!” okonogi declares emphatically. 

“yes. you’re right,” mina says decisively. “that’s a good fit. you act like a cat about it. you try to—”

“stop. stop it, stop it, i don’t want to hear it. stop analyzing my personality. this isn’t some kind of joke,” hoshina says, his voice sounding more flustered as he went on. “they’re never gonna say yes. it’s stupid. confessing like this… it would only be a burden on all of us.” 

mina and okonogi exchanged a look.

“besides, i’m a bad boyfriend. remember that last girl, from operations,” hoshina laughed. “broke her heart in three seconds flat.” 

“… if i remember correctly, you liked her quite a lot, though,” okonogi said hesitantly. 

“ha! so what if i did?” hoshina asked. “she only just left when i… hm.” his smile seemed to falter somewhat, but he laughed. “it’s fine. it’s fine. i’m fine.” 

behind his back, mina and okonogi exchanged another look. 

but his mind flickered back to his hand on your back, and wondered if you leaning into his touch was a fluke. 

[…]

you stare at hoshina from across the room. he’s eating by himself, half a piece of melon bread in his mouth as he stared down at some papers in his hand. you’d have asked to sit next to him, if only you were braver. but you were a coward, so here you were. you stare down at your own food, tearing off a corner of the red bean bun you were eating, popping it in your mouth. 

your crush on hoshina was about as subtle as a freight train. which is to say, you felt it coming on, and then by the time you’d fully reconciled it, you were already being run over repeatedly. it was just grappling, mostly, with how cool he was, endlessly. 

you wondered what it would be like to live under the intensity of his stare, as it enveloped you whole. 

would it be like a benevolent fire? or would he raze you so wholly that there’d be nothing left? 

you wanted to find out. you wanted to find out, but you were so scared he’d burn you before you could even get close. but what was important was that hoshina, for sure, didn’t even bother to reciprocate your feelings. that’s what you were so sure of—because why would someone like him give you the pleasure of his time? surely his time was more valuable than wasting it on a nobody like you. 

his intensity, sharpened to a fine point, was better spent figuring out how to permanently eradicate the kaiju threat altogether. 

right?

you sighed miserably. 

“now that sounds like a miserable sound to me,” hoshina’s voice rang out right next to your ear. 

you nearly jumped out of your skin as soon as you heard his voice, too focused for a second on the soft, tickling sensation of his breath against the shell of your ear. your face bloomed bright red, and you immediately backed away from him, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. 

“hoshina!” you stammer. “what—what are you doing?” 

“eating?” hoshina raises his eyebrow, a teasing smirk on his lips. “noticed you were staring. take a picture, by the way, if you want. they do last longer than the momentary glances.” he sat down next to you, continuing to eat.

so he had noticed you staring. 

“s-sorry. for staring,” you say. 

“huh? why are you sorry?” hoshina asks, cocking his head at you, one of his eyes opening a bit wider. “i don’t mind. if i minded, i woulda said something.” your face flushed a little more at his words, and you looked away as he laughed. 

“you really are cute,” he says fondly, reaching out a hand to pat your head.

… huh?

“what?” you ask weakly. 

“huh? did i say something weird?” hoshina asks, the picture perfect image of innocence—or so you’d say, if his eyes weren’t narrowed at you, and the smile on his face a little too much like a smirk, waiting for how you’d react. 

“no…? i guess? it’s just not something i thought you’d say. to me,” you say falteringly, looking away for a moment. 

“mm. i guess i should make a habit of saying it more, huh?” hoshina teases, removing his hand from your head. 

and as you fluster a little more, you curse god for your crush on soshiro hoshina. 

[…]

“you need to quit fucking around,” narumi says, pointing a dumbbell at hoshina in the training room. 

“fucking around? i’m doing nothing of the sort,” hoshina says, that mask of innocence still on his face. narumi’s brow furrows. 

“sure, and you don’t also ogle… you need to get your shit together and confess, or swear to god, i’ll kill one of you. or, hell, why don’t we just kill both of you so i don’t have to fucking look at you?” narumi scoffs, anger spiking in his voice. 

“ha, yeah, maybe if you do that i’ll finally be free from hearing your annoying, grating voice,” hoshina says, prodding narumi in the chest.

“yeah, but then you won’t confess your feelings and then i’ll have to die knowing i broke up a couple that hadn’t even gotten together,” narumi grumbles. “i’m not a monster.”

“huh?” hoshina asks.

narumi looked like he was about to blow a gasket.

“wait, so you didn’t know they reciprocate?”

“i–well, i… hoped?” hoshina says, realizing how stupid he must sound. his mind flit back to your reactions the past few days–hell, the past few weeks? maybe the past few months? “oh. shit.”

“oh. shit. indeed,” narumi mocks. “so, are you going to tell them?”

“i…” hoshina suddenly realized how terrified he was. his face paled, his hand coming up to his mouth. “i… shit. wait. this is–fuck. i…” he ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs up past his face, a shaking sigh passing his lips. “no. this is… how would i even begin to explain it? i’m not… i can’t. i’m not–i can’t be a good partner. not in this line of work. my judgement could be compromised! that wouldn’t–”

“your judgement is already compromised,” narumi says, a bared snarl-turned-smile on his lips. “you know, hoshina. this is probably the most interesting you’ve ever been. you’re always facades, niceties. pretended you were untouchable, swimming in that sea of self-loathing and ineptitude. but maybe you’re beginning to live a little, aren’t you?”

hoshina’s eyes widened.

living?

[...]

it’d always come to the worst, you thought. you coughed up a mouthful of blood as another round of rubble began to creak overhead. you tried to force your body to move, and your suit pulsed in response to your movements, attempting to close the bloody gashes across your body from the kaiju attack. 

“command, come in,” you gasped out, holding up a shaking hand to your in-ear. you winced as there was only a clicking static in response–was no one coming? were you all alone? were you going to die like this, your limbs barely even able to hold up their own weight even with most of your combat power unleashed? is this all you were good for? your knees buckled as you collapsed onto the ground, coughing out a mouthful of blood.

were you going to die like this?

you couldn’t.

you didn’t want to.

your vision swam a bit as you coughed out another mouthful of blood, your mind lingering.

hoshina had touched your back right before you’d left, a small smile crossing his face.

“don’t die,” he’d said. 

and here you were, stumbling through the rubble, hurting so badly that you might as well be dead. 

it was utterly and painfully cliche to think about letting hoshina down. you didn’t want to, and yet there was a horrifying possibility that you would. and as you buckled again, collapsing onto your knees, you coughed out another mouthful of blood.

fuck.

“command,” you repeated, in a weaker voice. “please. if someone–if anyone can hear me–i need help. suit damage is–” you cough again, wiping blood from your mouth. “--critical. please.” 

and as your vision swam, you felt a hand press against your shoulder.

“there you are.”

you blinked hard, staring up at the face of soshiro hoshina, who’d pulled his mask off, leaning down to pull you into his arms.

“hoshina,” you whisper. “i’m sorry–i shouldn’t have… i got…”

“why are you apologizing?” hoshina asks, his voice sounding more choked than you’d like it to be.

“i didn’t mean to–i didn’t mean for this to happen.” you think you’re bleeding across hoshina’s suit, across his gloves as you press your head against his shoulder. 

hoshina laughs desperately, wetly.

“you didn’t mean to–of course you didn’t mean to!” hoshina protests. “the attack was more than any of us could have predicted–of course you didn’t mean for any of this happen–i don’t want you to apologize for that.” his hand reaches up to swipe some blood away from your brow. “come on, love. i have to tell you how i feel–that bastard was right, after all. my judgement was compromised from the beginning, around you.” 

“that bastard? narumi?” you ask, coughing a bit. why did it feel so cold? your eyes fluttered for a moment,  “what does he have to do with any of this–”

“i love you,” hoshina says. “i’m sorry it took me this long to tell you. and i’m selfish, for waiting until you’re bloodied, like this, to tell you.” you didn’t like the desperate look in his eyes like he was convinced you were going to die. you leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“you bastard,” you muttered. “couldn’t you have thought up a better time and place for all of this?” 

“no,” hoshina admits. “because i’m selfish, after all.” he smiles at you, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. “come on. let’s get you to the medbay. i’m not letting you die on me yet.”

“okay,” you whispered weakly. “okay.”

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“15 missed Calls”—Geto Suguru

Synopsis: Suguru wasn’t a jealous or angry man but then you usually didn’t flaunt your ass a round in a tiny dress either- but hey, Halloween’s every girl’s pass at being a whore, right?

── ˚₊✩‧₊ A/n: ok yeah I’m late to post for Halloween but it’s like barely anything to do with it so <3 also I did stray away from what I’d planned to write but then hehe👉👈 also, thanks to @romiyaro for beta and in general (I swear I’ll get pouty! Reader in some Drabble now💀)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 3.9k

── ˚₊✩‧₊ warnings: MDNI!!smut!!fem! Reader x Suguru; pussy inspection; degradation; jealous (but totally not toxic) Suguru; orgasm denial; hinted power dynamics; reader is more or less a brat; spitting; Suguru is almost a soft dom? It was supposed to be just smut but idk (PWP)

“Crawl”

You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.

“I’ll be back late, don’t wait up on me Su’”

A nod he passed mindlessly—“Sure thing babe- just lemme know if I have to pick you up and don’t get wasted, send me a message if you change locations and-”

A heavy pause settled in, you walked in skittishly—a bashful grin on your face, “This ok?” Question which referred your dress in place.

Mostly, it wasn’t ok—definitely not appropriate in the way the small little satin piece hugged your body, so short Suguru was sure you would flash somebody after two drinks.

But it was Halloween—every girl’s free pass at being a whore.

A sigh Suguru let out, “it’s gorgeous, you’re gorgeous…”

Your smile, guilty, only spread further, “..but?”

He smiled, shaking his head, “Nothing, just take care ok?” A step towards you and a turn of his finger to give him a spin—chuckling as you twirled excitedly and then hugged him—he was very sure it would be a long night.

-

15 missed calls, 25 messages with the same connotation of “are you ok?” And “where are you?”

A single slurred reply to you 40 messages with a “suguwu :)):) m’ kay. Pck me up im 20?”

And with all obviousness, it wasn’t well received at all—so evident in the way tension hung heavy in the car, your seat belt properly holding you in place—his piercing gaze, and the certain placement of his hand on your thigh that kept you as sober as possible.

“Mm sorry,” you slurred out again, head lolling to the side to look at him—stuck at the way his jaw clenched at your words.

Not a word he passed, not a word after that, did you.

And hence, ride back home was quiet, awkward and…in some way, scary.

Click- the door fell shut, locked, entrapping what was of you and Suguru alone in the house.

And just so suddenly, every stitch in the hem of your flimsy red dress began seeming interesting—“What did I tell you?”

You winced and groaned, internally at his tone—“The fact that I trust you to- to, gods,” he paused as if searching for the right words—but you saw it, the switch in his eyes as they darkened just the slightest—“To leave the house dressed as a cheap little whore, one thing I asked for. Your fucked out lil’ brain can’t even do that?”

You stood there in the middle of your apartment, frowning and loosely, berated as a little kid, it seemed.

“Mm’ sorry Su’ it’s just- the girls-”

A sharp glare from him, enough to make your excuses die down your throat—“The girls this and the girls that right? Why was there nobody when I picked you-”

“-I ordered them all Ubers,” you muttered under your breath, a silence resting again.

“And you couldn’t one for yourself, why?”

You paused, hesitated—never once looking at him, “I thought…I thought I had you so…”

That was when Suguru took notice of the pout you held—the one you did all the time, The one he mostly loved.

“Besides,” you began—attention strained on the memory as you thought hard, “I’m not a child to be taken care of, or someone who’ll get lost-”

What you had assumed would quieten everything down only seemed to uproar a side of him you barely saw.

“Excuse me?”

You gulped, hard—“well yeah-”

“Shut the fuck up.” He snapped, moving all so close—“You were down right freezing and shivering when I pulled up, I don’t care what your girls do but your tits were almost hanging out, like a damn slut. Hell, why did you have those 20 dollar bills stuffed in there?”

You almost wanted to chuckle at the last part- it would make for a funny story, but the look on Suguru’s face screamed that it would have to wait till at least, the next day.

“I was alright,” you scoffed, a hand pushing him away—not a budge that it caused in his stance, “The bartender…he was nice- didn’t even let no one come near our drinks and- and even offered me lemons after closing and-”

“-woman,” Suguru interrupted quick, a long sigh withdrawn, “it was me who offered you lemons,”

You waited—a pink tint already dusted your face, ears burning at his words, “oh.”

He sighed again, seemingly recollecting his thoughts as you bit your lip—gods how he adored you—especially when you wobbled slight, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling yourself into him, head resting in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled softly, against his body—his hands resting on your sides, “I know you’re a big girl alright? I know you can look after yourself,” he pulled away slight, a kiss landing on your forehead, “but it’s my responsibility too you know? And it was majorly annoying to have you gone like that,”

A nod you passed, again an apology mumbled except this time you were met by the shake of his head.

“No you’re not,” he mumbled, “you do this a lot you know?”

And you do, not informing him of the late night work sessions and what not, not informing him on time of a date cancelled, he was rightfully tired.

“Now, here on I’ll just punish you doll, you can deny it and we’ll go off to sleep and deal with it another time or you can be a good girl, my good girl and take everything because frankly, I’m a little too mad to sleep right now,”

You looked into his words, it wasn’t a bad idea, particularly, you would of course never utter a no.

But then, you knew what it entailed, you knew how it ended last time, how embarrassing but then just how much you loved it too—a nod, all the affirmation provided.

“Strip,” a command from there on, “quick,” he added, eyes boring into your form as he did so.

And strip you did, it wasn’t anything new but just the way your fingers trembled, as did your thoughts as you pulled down the satin dress down—Suguru’s groan was loud, sounding throughout the apartment—your breasts well out easily, “No bra?” And you wanted to snort at the obliviousness of the question, of course, no bra.

“At least tell me you’ve got your panties still on,” you licked your lips, face warmed up at his words—it wasn’t anything new, but then why did that certain tone of condescension feel just so right?

Suguru held back another groan as the white g-string came to his view, the one that he bought, “such a slut,” he whispered.

Over the couch, he motioned you—the sound of his tongue clicking as you stepped forward.

“I’m sure only good girls get to be with dignity,” there on his face, he held a grin which you wanted to slap away too—but all to no avail.

“Crawl” everything in his voice assured you that a brat was not what he would appreciate tonight.

You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.

It was simply embarrassing, in the way your hips swayed a little as you moved, all that was your dignity remained flitted to that small piece of clothing that you knew Suguru would probably tear away.

Your gaze remained downturned, too ashamed, humiliated to even look him in the eyes—but just one glance and you’d see that amused smirk, the satisfied expression on his face as he took in the sight displayed for him.

You halted near his feet- a ginger lick of your lips, unsure, uncertain on the sequence to be followed, tugging on the hem of his pants in a confused manner.

“Hm? Don’t know what to do? My, and here I thought the big girl was all so smart to do as she pleased,”

You let out a loud whine at his words, startled a little too as he squatted down to your level—“sh,” he muttered, pressing a finger to your lips, “all I want to hear tonight is an actual apology,”

Another nod, tersely you snapped your eyes away, knowing that’s as all you could do tonight.

He hummed along as well, getting up and motioning you with a finger too, “on the couch please doll,” and you were sure what was to come here on.

Across the arm rest you lay, biting your lip—so exposed, so vulnerable and to think he hadn’t shed a single piece of clothing himself.

His fingers were gentle in the way they touched you, you knew he wasn’t mad—but you knew you’d also end up crying by the time he was done.

They traced you gently, over your back, feathery touches to your spine—tickling almost, he bent down just at that too, down to your ear, “Feeling ashamed hm?”

A hum was all to add to his words as you lay yourself easy, tension ebbing away with the way he massaged you—“you know,” he began, “you should be more ashamed of your actions, acting like a brat rather than being ashamed of your pussy and bare ass on display,”

Just at that you wanted the couch to engulf you, you knew that he knew you did—that was the purpose, “You deserve some punishment eh?” A squeal you let you as his pinned you inner thigh, pushing it apart—“should get your pretty little girlfriends too eh? Make em watch since all of you seem like a bunch of sluts to me,”

All in good humour, you reminded yourself, but a small pout found it’s way along your features, as it always did when Suguru got degrading.

“15 spanks,” he mused, “just pink enough right?” — the sentence was ended with another pinch, 15, you but your lip—there would be something more to it.

“15 and you thank me for each, yeah pretty thing? Your pretty head can do that f’me tonight?”

you bobbed your head, not daring to even turn your head and look at him once.

A patient quiet settled in, your body relaxed further—Suguru smiled wide as he looked at you, so perfect for him, “remind me why you’re here sweetheart?”

The sweetness in his vice was sharp still, condescending in every way, “b-because I uh- I…I was out late? Didn’t—did not call o-or inform you-ah!”

-smack!

Your words simply fell short as the slap landed hard on your ass, so sure to grab it right after and and squeeze—Suguru pulled back, and waited.

“Thank you, Suguru,” you sighed, and you waited right after, expecting the next hit.

“We can stop if it’s too much-”

“-I’ll take it, wanna be a good girl, please i-”

A sharp slap on your right cheek and then the left, aimed carefully, accurately proportional, “atta girl,”

“Thank you,” you groaned at his words, eyes clenched shut, surprised in the way he chose not to hold back in midst of your words—but then, typical Suguru.

Just so, many a times Suguru landed the flat of Palm down on your ass, dusty pink to a rosy one, the process was slow as your backside gained its hue, so pretty.

18 spanks in, Suguru never spanked just the amount he promised, always more—the 19th spank sounded like a crack against your warmed up ass, you didn’t bother showing your gratitude.

A small pause, Suguru chuckled, “nothing? Why don’t I just-” a sharp pain elicited in you bottom half as another slap sounded in the room- a hard spank on your pussy, just hard enough to have you gasping.

“Thank you,” you mumbled out—tears forming at the brink of your eyes now,, form slumping onto the couch, exhausted and spent, sore from the position he’d had you hold so long.

“Bet you are, especially from all this wetness,” another slap on your pussy, “getting wet from your punishment?” Another slap, the tears threatened to spill, at this point, “that’s how sorry you are?”

You wanted to scream at him, thatyou were sorry but it was Suguru and this conversation was nuts to begin with so you remained your quiet, the pout slowly turning to a frown.

“On the couch, legs wide apart,” scrambling to your feet, you detested the way he chuckled as you grabbed onto him for support, the booze never helped and the way you were all so sore from hefty time spent in that uncomfortable position, nothing helped at all,, but that was fine, Suguru was gentle in the way he helped you settle.

“Just a small inspection, ok doll?”

The words and the fate of it came crashing down on you fast.

You gritted your teeth at his words, you knew what that meant—he would find your arousal, shame you for it, punish you maybe and you loved the process, every bit of it.

Sprawled across the couch, feet planted to your side onto the couch, while Suguru rested in the place between, warm breath tickling you, making your hole clench around nothing.

“If I slip these panties down,” you’re weren’t sure why he even bothered asking, the wet spot was all so apparent, “will I find you wet?” Even so, you lay audacious—a shake of your head, his smirk widened.

Fingers hooked into the waist and of your g-string, he pulled quick, not a second wasted , he’d been wanting to do this all evening.

An amused raise if his brow, eyes stuck at the string of your juices that worked its way from your pussy to the gusset of your flimsy panties.

There, finally, in all its glory, your pussy lay glistening with arousal under his gaze—“liar,” he grinned as he stared at it hungrily, “such a fuckin’ liar,” he repeated, almost in a daze.

Subconsciously though, your hips rolled, almost lifting to feel his touch, another set of clicking sounds, “don’t act like a cheap whore, you think I’ll just touch your pussy like that?”

Your eyes watched him, confused, as they stared down at his form in between your legs, kneeling for you, hair tied back.

“Need to see if this pussy’s still worth it babe,” and soon enough, everything made sense—a whine of disagreement rose through you, a glare from him acted enough a filter.

“Please, I’m sorry-”

“-prove it doll,” was all he muttered as he dove his fingers onto your pussy, mindful to only cause discomfort as he prodded at your folds, no more or less.

“Let’s see…” he snickered, “gods,” he chuckled, “think I gotta clean all of this before I can even start eh?”

Your eyes bounced around ditzy, you wanted just him, anything—“but the question is do we do this the right way and I wipe you clean? Or…” and all before the statement even came to its end, Suguru had dived in, pressed his hot tongue flat against your folds, basking in the gasp that you let out.

A sharp inhale you took as he pulled away just as fast, his eyes stuck onto yours, “I think cheap whores like you shouldn’t get the better end of the stick so…” with that, you cursed internally at the box of wipes that Suguru and you kept on the coffee table all the time—you cursed as the pulled out three tissues with ease.

“It’s supposed to cause discomfort so be prepared for that but if it hurts or is too much, let me know, ok?”

You nodded at his words, nervousness flickering on your face and he chuckled, squeezing your wrist slight—little comfort that it provided.

The first dab was ginger, as if testing his boundaries, soon came the second and then the third—until Suguru was easily navigating and cleansing you, almost felt infantilising.

How so very humiliating indeed.

“That’s your apology hm?” The smile jo longer rested on his face, “look at only me when I’m down here,” he added, noticing the slight hang of your head and almost closed off eyes.

“Such a naughty girl that you are,” he mused, “am I to believe you got this turned on from a spanking? Or was it something your girls did hm?” A sharp smack that ended on your hardened clit, he stroked it a little while he was there, “how absolutely pathetic doll,”

Shame blanketed you slight, not covering all of what you wanted for you still remained absolutely naked and open on for him, a satisfied hum he passed, tossing away the second tissue after dragging it from your slit all the way down to your other hole.

“Now that I begin inspecting my girl,” he chuckled at the pout you’d held the entire while, “you brought this upon yourself baby,”

And you had, but particularly, Suguru did think you held up better than most times.

You watched as he eyes your pussy, unsure of how to embarrass you further—he grinned, “my my, it’s so pink underneath all that slick hm? Almost as pink as your sweet ass,” with that he landed a sharp slap to your ass, just as a reminder—giggling at your squeal.

Thick fingers spread apart your folds slowly, tracing it over your pussy lips—a tickling sensation, “is your cunt clean enough to be used hm?”

You let out a sigh as he pulled at your folds, making sure to not once lay a finger on your clit—yet accurate enough to just pull back the hood of it.

“Is it clean enough that I can use your little hole now as a cum dump?” His fingers patted down onto your bare cunt, relishing in the wetness that seeped out your hole—“maybe you don’t deserve it all hm?”

With that, Suguru spit on your cunt, the wetness only ever grew as he Smeared it around, “had to make sure,” he snickered mischievously, “that this pussy’s still mine.”

You wanted to whine and groan, shove his head into your pussy so he eat you until you cried—but you know, you knew all too well that any attempts would only get your hands tied and mouth gagged with your soiled panties.

Suguru hummed, snapping his fingers, “eyes on me doll—now, I think, from the outside, you’re ok,” he smirked, “but I’d need to check the inside too right?”

You nodded at his words mindlessly, of course anything he said would he correct, “you’re lucky I’m not mad at ya, would’ve made ya bounce on that dildo of yours till ya’ cried,”

And by now, your patience was running low—Suguru was a tease, apparent from the way your clit itself twitched for his contact, your hips rolled and hole clenched uselessly—you were dying to fight back.

But you wouldn’t, because Suguru demanded a good girl tonight.

A finger moved into you slow, very slow, hips bucked only to be pushed down harshly by Suguru at that—“Take only what I give you,” he warned, loving the feel of your walls clenching about his finger.

You were to watch him, sure but nothing mattered anymore as your head fell back—“please,” you whimpered, “just a little more.”

He smiled at the way your face contorted about his thick finger, slow as he moved it about, a circular motion and then pushing it against your walls before pulling away entirely.

The slick coated his finger just as before, only this time He brought to his mouth still, tasting you right there and humming.

“Good as always,” he muttered, eyeing carefully your ministrations, “please Suguru,” you cried out, “touch me p-please,”

Tricky slope.

Suguru was going to touch you anyways, of course he would but your statement only ever pushed away the ebbing orgasm he would’ve provided.

“Of course, my love,” he grinned—slyly before pushing in two fingers roughly into your hole—loving just how you gasped and mewled about it.

Then again, nothing mattered to you anymore.

"S-S—Suguruuu, harder... please. Moremoremore!" your begs fell in a hoarse voice.

“A sweet spot already?” A toothy grin he held as he pumped the two fingers into you slowly, loving the way your eyes rolled back at his touch.

Your thighs were spread out wide on the couch — raised now in the air as he leaned his body close, reaching knuckle deep and curling his thick fingers up into a gummy spot that made you shudder and grip a cushion.

"Ouh, Fuck! Sugu—"

“Ah, ah, ah, only apologies I said, right?” His tone was so soft even so, almost heavenly that you felt.

You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth as he hits deep strokes and massages his fingertips into your gummy walls— sticky juices are all over his hand because of all that cleansing he worked out of you earlier. Suguru smiled to himself, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate getting that couch wet with your juices in the morning—to hell with that.

You looked cute, as you gasped and moaned in his fingers—he took note of the ever present pout on your lips, oh how he wanted to fuck it out of you—but then, the mean thrusts diluted down to gentle strokes soon enough, boy was he soft for you.

Suguru was doting still, knowing that no way you could’ve taken his cock without prep—struggling with even his fingers tonight, he loved being bigger than you.

Bigger, faster, harder and merciless as they pursue your orgasm.

"Gonna cum and make a mess for me again? Yeah?"

"Yes! Please, pleasepleaseplease — make me cum!" you whisper frantically against him.

He chuckled when you moan, pumping his fingers faster and faster, fingering at your clit with his other hand to tip you over the edge.

“Nothing unless I allow it,” he announced finally, ah—that was why he’d been lenient earlier—gods how you hated him.

He studied you intently as your orgasm built up, if only that was his focus onto other things— maybe if he would have had the same determination in general as he does now when finding your G-spot, then he perhaps wouldn’t have struggled with daily life issues as much as he had to.

Suguru's dampened forehead rested against your thighs. He felt the radiating heat of your pussy in this proximity. Those dark eyes never stop staring at you, making sure you're as flustered as possible even in this pleasure-drunk state.

"Fuck... you're gushing..." he says in awe, " 'promise to lick my fingers clean after, yeah?" he rasps against you.

"Yes yes yes!" you say. He's pretty sure that you would have said yes to anything right then; you were so blissed by the way his fingers worked into your soaking hole, by the way they stretched you open just right.

The apartment was filled entirely, with the sound of your gushing pussy squelching with his thrusts—so tempted to attach his tongue onto your cunt but he knew you’d never be able to control yourself after that.

But to tease you was the goal—just slightly, almost a feathery touch he lay on your clit as he began rubbing it again, “shit doll, I do think your pussy’s worth turning a cum dump into,” you groaned at his words—mind almost mush as you chased your high, clenching at his fingers—until he pulled out immediately.

Until your high entirely ebbed away.

A confused and betrayed look you passed him, “wa-wait what? Suguru-! I-”

He simply giggled at your state, slapping your ass one more time as he got up and away, “you’re an idiot if you thought you’d be cummin’ t’night,”

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[dracocheesecake]

How do you think the Kai x Chameleon ship would happen in your Modern AU? Forgive me for asking a question like this earlier.

Oh no it's fine! Now as to how that would happen...

I think maybe after she gets out of jail (or escapes) she goes under a new identity, one she has long owned but never before used...her own. She now lives as a regular, normal civilian lizard named Kamara- not to be confused with the Chameleon, who did all of those bad things! Nope, never heard of her! Kamara is just a regular old lizard, completely ordinary, definitely not a former criminal overlord. Nope.

Well, Kai meets her when she comes to the city of Peace Valley, trying to assume this new identity, cut ties with her past (so she can begin a new criminal empire- haha just kidding...maybe) and overall just trying to find out how to live a normal life. They meet when Kai is trying to renew his license (Kamara took a job working at the DMV, a starting point to gain access to other records for...purposes. Nothing suspicious at all). Anyway, she of course immediately recognized Kai, and accidentally let some of her kung fu nerdiness out. Kai, however, adored that someone knew who he was and just saw her as a fan (even if it was only really in relation to Oogway). He really loves when people know who he is and show him respect and admiration.

At first Kamara kept contact with him simply as a ruse to get ahold of his identity and use him again for her own purposes...but, well, now that she was actually meeting the real General Kai, and spending time with him, not as a mask she could use but as a person...well, she sort of forgot about her old plans.

Kai hasn't found out that she was the Chameleon that had stolen his identity that one time. Now, to him, she's just someone he's currently dating that he likes very much.

[delululand]

How do you think txt would react to getting back scratches? ( could be sfw or NSFW)

Btw I love your writing to much!!!! I hope you have a wonderful day, don't forget to drink water and to relax your shoulders!!!!

omg you’re so sweet and i’m so sorry it took so long to respond😭 i'm glad my writing resonates with you, thank you so much for kind words!! 🩵

soobin

blush but fluttering inside. noticing scratches on his back in the morning, he begins to worry if he was accidentally too rude at night, but after hearing your assurances that everything is fine and you liked it, he just sits trying to hide his awkward happy smile

yeonjun

ohhh he would be sooo self satisfied. noticing the distinct scratches on his back and remembering your screams at night, he approached you with a satisfied grin and a sly look asking “it was that good babe? want to repeat?” and the very next second his arms were hugging you from behind, pressing your ass against the bulge in his pants

beomgyu

would be really cocky. he'll never stop mentioning how good he makes you feel. especially at the most inappropriate moments, like when you're at dinner at your parents' house and you're just innocently putting your hand on his back and he's already whispering in your ear “decided to see if the marks of your pleasure are still there?"

taehyun

try to be cool. pretends that nothing special happened and most likely won’t tell you anything, just wondering should he put on a tank top and show off to everyone around him or put on a t-shirt and keep your secret

huening kai

kind of a little embarrassed. he felt it the night before, but didn't expect it to leave such marks. however, after noticing the scratches, he's the type who won't tell you much (honestly, he's feel shy to even ask or mention it out loud), but the whole next day he's playfully looking at you with a mysterious smile and acting cuter than usual with you

[iiiiiiis-things]

"Yeah, that nigga dick a bitch down"

pairing: duke dennis x femblack!reader

cw: cursing, smut, dick eating, backshots, annoying references that i found funny but you should ignore them bc i'm jus a huge goof ball

blurb: seeing duke ride the mechanical bull at the rodeo made you incredibly horny.

a/n: y'all i took way to long to make this just for it to come out ass 😛

"fuck" Duke lets out a loud groan, throwing his head back his gaming chair, as his mushroom tip hit the back of your throat. you were struggling, the slight curve that you loved oh so much (and that he fucked you so good with) wasn't making it easier, and although your lips rested prettily a little over halfway around his cock, you wanted to take all of him as your vision becoming blurry you slightly suck to ease the pain- earning another groan from the man above, you wanted to literally swallow him whole. he had you waiting too long for this.

------

you had been trying to give him hints all night, from giving slight brushes against his thigh, to full on grinding your ass against what you wanted most- and through all of it he barely even spared you a single glance. it might be pathetic but you were desperate.

ever since you seen him on that damn bull.

the way he skillfully held the strap in his left hand instantly flooded your brain with memories of the many, many times when he would yank your freshly done knotless braids while giving back shots and how you could barley walk for 3 days. You watched as the bull lifted up which caused Duke to grind ever so lightly on top of it and when it lifted him back down his hips rolled again, this action made you clench your thighs together behind the camera, your hole clenching as heat pooled in your pretty pink lace panties

Duke didn't stay on long, getting thrown off quicker than anyone had expected. When he did fall off, he jogged back over to you and Davo grabbing the camera so one of us could go on. after declining to ride the mechanical machine Davo makes his way over to it. Duke leans over your way coming to almost ear level with you his voice lowering "did you like that?" your cheeks began heating, after silently thanking god for being black, you turn your head just to find him staring at you. The two of you make intense eye contact which causes your breathing to hitch.

for a slight moment it only felt like you and him like everything else had faded into nothing.

your eyes switches between his and his lips before finally leaning in and just as you were about to place your lips on his he lifts his head away from you, smiling showing you the shiny grills that matches with his earrings. you furrow your eyebrows is there something you did wrong? Duke turns his head in front of him and as your eyes follow his gaze you see Davo running back over to us

the entire time you were at the fair you were trying your best to make it look like you didn't want to straight pounce on him. Duke had known what you wanted but he utterly underestimated how bad you wanted it. the he realization kicked in when the 3 of you had stopped to take a bathroom break miraculously he had came out before Davo which gave you two just a tiny amount of alone time.

"We gon hit up a couple more games and then we'll l- baby?" he watched as your head lifted to meet his eyes "yes?" This is when he finally gets a good look at you, your edges had begun to sweat out and your hair was frizzy but the actual lace of your green and black wig was oddly perfectly fine makeup slightly starting to wear off "you that horny?" his eyebrows scrunch in confusion, did seeing him ride a mechanical bull really turn you on that bad?

He seen that his comment had you taken aback by the way your eyes grow wide and your breathing accelerated but before you could answer anything Davo came back....again

when the two of you made it safely back home you made sure to tell kai to not bother you tonight and (and that you were sorry for what he was about to hear) Duke walked in first bee lining straight to his gaming chair. you walked in, locking the door, and what you found waiting behind you was honestly a sight for sore eyes. your turned around to see your boyfriend, man spreading and eyes low and red from tiredness you silently watch as he scoots his pelvis forward legs spreading even wider.

------

"Unh, unh, shitttt" he groans once again, he was close, you could tell by the way his hand was reaching down to your wig. he grabbed a fistfull before using his strength to bob your head up and around his length, producing lewd sounds as you bring your hand up to his thigh as his pace gets faster "baby i'm- fuck. i'm almost there" this only causes you to moan which sends vibrations along his tip as he pull you up only to slam you back down, tears began to trickle down to your cheeks, and soon you felt his grip loosen.

you went down on him once more before opening your mouth, you stick out your toungue, licking his heavy balls, immediately you feel Duke shoot his seed down your throat. slowly easing your mouth off him you raise your head and look him in the eye as you slowly swallow, bringing your thumb up to your mouth catching anything that dare to spill out, and push your thumb back inside your mouth.

----

you're ass up face down Duke is behind you teasing your entrance his rough fingers tips having a firm hold on your hips. "mmnh- please fuck me" you let out a small moan as his tip slowly works its way in only to pull out in the matter of seconds, this man knew what he was doing and you were starting to get sexually frustrated.

Duke leans down deepening your arch to whisper in your ear "i was gonna make you wait a little longer... but since you asked so nicely" out of nowhere he starts to absolutely annihilate your pussy. Roughly pulling your hips to meet his as you grip the sheets below you grunts spilling form his mouth and moans coming form yours his pace was fast, but as good as this felt you wanted him to fuck you differently this time. "fuck- babe stop." you reach your hand behind you to place it on top of his. Duke starts to slow down "what's wrong?" his forehead wrinkles with concern and frustration.

but all of that soon washes away when he hears the next sentence that comes out your filthy mouth "fuck me how you was doing that bull" a smile creeps up on to his face "oh so that's what this about?" his 1937 laugh booms in your ear. laughing? he's laughing? after all that torture he's put you through and he's laughing? see this is why you shouldn't of said shit. cause now he's making fun of you. as a matter of fact you should just leave his ass by himself to finish own his own. you had a pink dildo in your dresser that you could-

"mhhhhh shitt" a loud pornographic moan escapes your mouth Duke shoves his whole dick inside you only to grind lightly just like he was doing that fucking bull except you actually felt it. his right hand crosses over to caress your hip bone his left hand moves up to your head and starts to vandalize your curls your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, hands are tangled into the sheets, and your arch deepens once more

"that's it? that's the spot huh?" he lifts your head up as he leans down to make eye contact with you. "right- shit here?"

you moan out loudly it just felt so good. you weren't even able to form a proper sentence Duke had known he found it by the way you clenched around him at the end of each thrust. you could feel the curve abuse your cervix. this. this was different you could feel him, feel every vein, feel how hard he was, and the softness of his skin and he picks up the pace continuously rolling the curve against that sensitive spot inside you, duke groaned everyone your hips met his.

your pussy was sucking him in further into you, Duke kept going harder and harder ramming his length balls deep into you, all while rolling his hips up into that spongy spot inside of you. listening to all of the clapping and moans helped a tight knot form in your stomach.

"fuck just like that mama" his eyebrows crease, you just were so tight squeezing the hell out of him as his balls slap against your clit. Duke was just about ready to bust when you start to bounce your ass back on him. he loved this part of backshots, whenever you start to fuck back onto him it made him feel so good. he grew harder at the fact that you could take all of him. especially in this position.

he surprisingly moans when he looks down to see your pussy creating a white ring around the base of his cock "s-shit" he somehow goes even faster mercilessly abusing your cervix you were almost there and he was too you felt his thrust get sloppy, his grunts and moans increasing.

he the hand in your hair moves down to rub tight but slow circles around your clit bringing you the sweet release you've been waiting so long for. "fuckfuckfuck- fuckkk" you threw your head back in ecstasy squeezing him so tight that he legit couldn't move. you hear him let out one last groan as you go limp and milk him dry.

after staying in the same position for a while he finally pulls out collapsing next to you. grabbing the comforter you pull it over your body's resting your head on his chest as his arm comes to wrap around you.

"kai is gonna kill me"

[gyorouis]

𐙚 HEARTSTRINGS.

— "you are mine i am yours, isn't it obvious that there's something one of us wants to admit?"

genre: angst, fluff, bandmates to friends to lovers :>>

pairing: bandmate!beomgyu x afab!reader

warning: swearing, kiss (?), let me know if i forgot anything!

wordcount: 11.8k :>>

now playing: one click straight — mrt ୨ৎ , zild — lia ୨ৎ

if it wasn’t your friend crying to you to join the band, you might have ignored the opportunity altogether. you had heard of the band through chaeyoung, your friend who had harbored a not-so-secret crush on beomgyu for as long as you could remember. she spoke of him with a dreamy look in her eyes, often mentioning his talent and the way he seemed to pour his soul into every note he played.

“he's amazing,” chaeyoung would say, her cheeks flushing slightly. “and so kind. you should see how he treats everyone in the band.”

you nodded along, though your thoughts were often elsewhere, lost in the chords and melodies you created in your room. music had always been your escape, a place where you could express the things words often failed to capture.

one evening, as you sat with chaeyoung at your usual coffee shop, she burst into the room with an excitement you rarely saw in her. she practically bounced over to your table, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and nervous energy. “guess what?” she said, barely able to contain herself. “the band is looking for a new guitarist and vocalist!”

you raised an eyebrow, curious but cautious. “and?”

“and you should totally try out!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with enthusiasm. “you’re perfect for it. plus, it would be a great way for me to get closer to beomgyu.”

you chuckled at her transparency. “so this is your grand plan? get me into the band so you can make your move on beomgyu?”

she grinned, unashamed. “exactly. come on, it’ll be fun. and you love playing music. it’s a win-win.”

you sighed, feeling the weight of her request. joining a band was a big commitment, and the thought of performing in front of people made your stomach churn. “i don’t know, chaeyoung. i’m not really a performer. i like playing in my room, where no one can judge me.”

her face fell, and you could see the disappointment in her eyes. “but you’re so talented. it’s a waste to keep all that to yourself. please, just give it a shot. for me?”

you shook your head, standing firm. “i can’t. it’s just too much.”

chaeyoung’s shoulders slumped, and she stared at her coffee cup, her fingers tracing the rim. “i really thought you’d say yes,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “this means a lot to me.”

you felt a pang of guilt, but your mind was made up. “i’m sorry, chaeyoung. i just can’t.”

the next day, chaeyoung showed up at your door, her eyes red and puffy from crying. she looked at you with such desperation that it broke your heart. “please,” she begged, tears streaming down her face. “i need this. i need you to help me.”

you were taken aback by her raw emotion. chaeyoung was always so composed, so put-together. seeing her like this, so vulnerable, made you reconsider. “chaeyoung, i… i don’t know if i can do this.”

she grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly. “you can. i know you can. you’re amazing, and this could be such a great opportunity for you. and for us.”

you sighed, feeling the weight of her request. joining a band was a big commitment, but the idea of playing music with others, of sharing that connection, was tempting. besides, you couldn't deny chaeyoung anything when she looked at you with those pleading eyes.

“alright,” you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i’ll do it.”chaeyoung practically squealed with delight, hugging you tightly. “thank you, thank you, thank you! you won’t regret it, i promise.”

your first encounter with the band took place in their practice studio, a space filled with the rich scent of old instruments and the echo of past performances. when you arrived, beomgyu, yeonjun, taehyun, and kai were already there, their presence creating a lively buzz in the room. the setup was intimate—four chairs arranged in a semi-circle with instruments strewn about, evidence of countless hours spent together.

beomgyu greeted you first, his gaze warm yet scrutinizing. “hey, you must be the new applicant. i’m beomgyu, the bassist.”

you nodded, trying to steady your nerves. “yeah, that’s me. nice to meet you.”

yeonjun, with his easygoing demeanor, flashed a reassuring smile. “i’m yeonjun, the drummer. welcome to the band.”

taehyun, the lead guitarist with an intense focus, gave a nod of acknowledgment. “taehyun. let’s see what you’ve got.”

kai, the youngest and the most energetic of the group, leaned in with a grin. “i’m kai. excited to hear you play!”

as you set up your guitar and adjusted the microphone, the room filled with a quiet anticipation. your heart pounded in your chest as you prepared for your audition. chaeyoung stood by the side, her supportive presence a small comfort amidst your growing anxiety.

you started with a familiar song, one you’d practiced tirelessly in your room. your fingers trembled slightly as you strummed the first chords, your voice wavering but determined. the band members listened intently, their expressions ranging from casual interest to focused concentration.

when you finished, there was a moment of silence. beomgyu broke it with a thoughtful nod. “not bad. your style is different from what we’re used to, but that’s not a bad thing.”

yeonjun added, “i agree. you’ve got potential. it’ll take some time to get used to playing with us, but i think you could fit in.”

taehyun’s gaze was piercing, but there was a hint of approval in his eyes. “we’re looking for someone who can bring something fresh to the table. if you’re up for the challenge, we’d be happy to have you.”

kai, always the enthusiast, clapped his hands. “great job! when can we start practicing together?”

chaeyoung’s eyes sparkled with relief and joy as she hugged you tightly. “see? i told you you’d do great!”

the initial excitement quickly gave way to the reality of integrating into the band. you quickly learned that fitting into their established rhythm was more challenging than you’d anticipated. during the first few practice sessions, you struggled to synchronize with yeonjun’s drumming and taehyun’s lead guitar riffs. your attempts to harmonize with kai’s backing vocals often felt awkward, and you could sense the band’s growing frustration.

one particular practice, as you flubbed a crucial part of a song, yeonjun let out a sigh of frustration. “let’s take that from the top. we need to tighten up.”

beomgyu, sensing your growing frustration, pulled you aside during a break. “hey, don’t worry. it takes time to adjust. let’s work through this together.”

you nodded, grateful for his support. “thanks, beomgyu. i appreciate it.”

over the next few weeks, you and beomgyu spent extra time practicing together. he was patient and encouraging, helping you work through the rough patches. you started to notice a rhythm in your interactions, both musically and personally. he would often tease you about your tendency to overthink and offer playful suggestions to ease your nerves.

one evening, after a particularly successful practice session, you and beomgyu sat on the worn-out couch in the studio, sharing a moment of respite. “so, what made you stick with the band?” you asked, genuinely curious.

beomgyu shrugged, a thoughtful look on his face. “i guess i just enjoy making music with people who challenge me. and you’ve definitely brought a new dynamic to our sound.”

you smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “i’m glad to hear that. it’s been tough, but i’m starting to feel like i’m finding my place.”

beomgyu’s gaze softened. “you are. and you’re doing great. it’s all about finding the right groove and getting to know each other.”

with each practice session and performance, the bond between you and the band grew stronger. you started to feel more comfortable, both on stage and off. the initial awkwardness of your role began to fade as you settled into the rhythm of the group. the chemistry between you and beomgyu began to blossom, marked by shared laughter, spontaneous jams, and heartfelt conversations.

one evening, after a particularly grueling rehearsal, you all gathered in the studio’s lounge area. the dim lighting cast a warm glow over the room as the band members slumped into the worn-out couches, still buzzing from the energy of the session.

“hey, that last song was fire,” kai said, stretching out his arms. “we really nailed it.”

beomgyu, his bass still resting on his lap, looked over at you with a grin. “yeah, you were killing it tonight. i think we’ve finally hit our stride.”

you felt a flush of pride at his compliment. “thanks. it felt great playing with you guys.”

“i can tell,” beomgyu replied, his smile widening. “you’ve really found your groove. how’s everything been going for you outside the band?”

“busy,” you said with a laugh. “but it’s all good. i’m actually starting to enjoy the chaos.”

“chaos?” beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “sounds like a good story.”

you shrugged. “nothing too exciting. just balancing school and shits, you know how it is.”

the conversation drifted into lighter topics, with beomgyu and you trading jokes and anecdotes. it was moments like these, away from the pressures of practice, that made you realize how much you valued the connection you were building with him and the rest of the band.

chaeyoung’s efforts to get closer to beomgyu became increasingly noticeable. she would often linger after practice, her laughter ringing out in the studio as she shared stories and asked questions about his music. she seemed to be making every effort to draw his attention, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

one evening, chaeyoung caught you off guard as she approached you with a conspiratorial smile. “hey, so, did you notice how beomgyu was totally into that last song we played?”

you chuckled. “yeah, he seemed pretty pumped about it.”

chaeyoung leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “i’m thinking of asking him to grab coffee sometime. you know, just to talk more about his music. what do you think?”

“sounds like a good idea,” you replied, trying to sound supportive even though you felt a pang of discomfort. “i’m sure he’d love to chat more about it.”

“great!” chaeyoung said, her eyes lighting up. “i was hoping you’d help me figure out a good way to ask him. maybe during our next session?”

“sure,” you said with a nod, masking your unease. “i can help.”

despite your efforts to support chaeyoung, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being caught in an awkward middle ground. you found yourself often standing back while chaeyoung and beomgyu engaged in deep conversations, your role feeling secondary. yet, even with this small discomfort, you still cherished the moments when you could connect with beomgyu and the rest of the band.

one evening, as the band wrapped up a particularly intense practice session, chaeyoung seized the opportunity to suggest they all grab dinner together. her tone was casual, but you could sense her underlying intent to include beomgyu in the plans.

“hey, we should all go out for dinner after practice,” she said with a bright, almost conspiratorial smile. “there’s this great new place i’ve been wanting to try. what do you think, beomgyu?”

beomgyu, who was adjusting the strap on his bass guitar, looked up with a thoughtful expression. “sure, that sounds good. i’m always up for trying new places.”

chaeyoung’s eyes lit up with excitement. “awesome! it’ll be fun to hang out outside of practice.”

you hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. “sounds great. i’d love to join.”

the group made their way to the restaurant, and you found yourself feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. the place chaeyoung had picked was cozy, with dim lighting and a menu full of intriguing options. as everyone settled into their seats, chaeyoung made a point to sit next to beomgyu, her body angled towards him as she began chatting animatedly about the restaurant’s unique dishes.

“so, have you tried the truffle fries here?” chaeyoung asked, leaning slightly closer. “i’ve heard they’re amazing.”

beomgyu, who was studying the menu, looked up with a smile. “no, but they sound great. i’m definitely down to try them.”

chaeyoung’s excitement was palpable. “perfect! we’ll get a bunch of appetizers to share. oh, and what about your favorite bands, beomgyu? i’m curious to know what kind of music you’re into.”

beomgyu chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention. “i’m into a mix of stuff—rock, jazz, a bit of indie. it really depends on my mood.”

as the evening unfolded, you couldn’t help but notice how chaeyoung maintained close proximity to beomgyu. she’d casually brush against him when reaching for the shared dishes or laugh a little too loudly at his jokes. each time she did, you could see the subtle pleasure in her eyes, and it was clear she was trying to catch his attention.

your own attempts at conversation felt stilted in comparison. you chatted with kai and the others, but whenever you tried to join in the conversation with beomgyu and chaeyoung, it felt like you were intruding. you awkwardly sipped your drink, trying to find a way to fit into the lively exchange.

as the evening progressed, you ended up sitting across from beomgyu. you watched him more closely now, observing the comfortable ease in his demeanor. he seemed genuinely engaged with chaeyoung, listening attentively and responding with thoughtful comments. his laughter was warm, and his eyes sparkled with a genuine interest that made you feel both envious and intrigued.

chaeyoung’s laughter was infectious, and it seemed to draw beomgyu in even more. “so, beomgyu,” she asked, her voice bright, “what inspired you to pick up the bass in the first place?”

beomgyu leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “i’ve always loved the rhythm and the groove. my older brother used to play, and i guess i just wanted to follow in his footsteps. plus, there’s something about the bass that just feels... essential to the music.”

“that’s really cool,” chaeyoung said, her eyes wide with admiration. “i love how passionate you are about it.”

you watched the exchange, feeling a pang of discomfort as you saw how effortlessly chaeyoung connected with beomgyu. you admired his passion, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit sidelined in the conversation.

the evening ended with everyone feeling satisfied and relaxed, the conversations flowing easily. as you all walked back to your respective homes, chaeyoung was buzzing with excitement, clearly thrilled with how the night had gone. you, on the other hand, found yourself lost in thought, as to why you are feeling a sudden thug on your chest upon remembering how close chaeyoung was with beomgyu earlier, and it felt wrong, you should’ve feel this way, not when your bestfriend if finally having more time with her crush.

another day, during a band rehearsal, chaeyoung suggested you help her with a surprise project for beomgyu—a personalized guitar pick. she wanted to give it to him as a gesture of appreciation for all his hard work and dedication. you agreed, though your heart wasn’t fully in it. you couldn’t help but wonder if this was her way of marking her territory, claiming her place in beomgyu’s life.

as you worked on the project together, chaeyoung’s enthusiasm was evident. “i really think this will make him happy,” she said, her eyes shining with hope. “he’s always so dedicated to the band, and this is a small way to show our appreciation.”

you nodded, trying to share in her excitement. “yeah, it’s a nice gesture. he’ll definitely appreciate it.”

when the day finally came to present the gift, chaeyoung was practically bouncing with anticipation. you watched as she handed the guitar pick to beomgyu, her smile radiant with pride. he accepted it with a surprised look, clearly touched by the thoughtful gesture.

“thanks, chaeyoung,” he said, his voice warm. “this is really cool. you didn’t have to, but i appreciate it.”

you could see the way chaeyoung’s eyes sparkled with happiness, but you also noticed the way beomgyu’s gaze lingered on her, a soft smile playing on his lips, and it made your heart twist with a confusing mix of emotions.

despite your efforts to help chaeyoung, you began to notice subtle changes in beomgyu’s behavior towards you. at band practices, his interactions with you became more frequent and personal. what had once been brief exchanges about setlists and practice schedules now turned into longer conversations that delved into more personal territory.

one afternoon, as you were setting up your gear, beomgyu approached you with a thoughtful expression. “hey, i’ve been meaning to ask,” he started, casually leaning against the wall, “what’s your favorite song to play?”

you looked up, a bit surprised by the question. “oh, um, that’s a tough one. i really like ‘wonderwall’ by oasis. it’s got a great vibe.”

beomgyu nodded, his eyes lighting up with interest. “nice choice. i love that song too. the melody is just... it’s so catchy, you know?”

“yeah, exactly,” you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. “what about you? what’s your favorite?”

beomgyu thought for a moment. “i’d have to say ‘under the bridge’ by the red hot chili peppers. there’s something about the way the bass line carries the song that just resonates with me, but if i have to brag to someone, i’d choose any arctic monkey’s song.” he chuckles.

as he spoke, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze lingered on you, a soft intensity in his eyes that made your heart race. there was a warmth in his expression that made you feel like you were the only person in the room.

the change in his behavior wasn’t limited to just band practice. during breaks, he would often find reasons to sit near you, casually mentioning his latest musical experiments or asking for your opinions on new tracks he was working on. his conversations with you were filled with personal anecdotes and stories from his life, and he seemed genuinely interested in hearing about yours.

one evening after practice, as the band packed up, beomgyu casually walked over to where you were putting away your equipment. “so, you mentioned you’re studying music theory. how’s that going?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

you glanced up, surprised by his interest. “it’s going well. it’s a lot of theory and practice, but i’m getting the hang of it. why do you ask?”

“just curious,” he said with a grin. “i’ve always thought about diving deeper into theory myself. it’s fascinating how it all connects.”

you smiled, feeling a sense of connection. “yeah, it is. it’s like uncovering the secrets behind the music.”

“exactly,” beomgyu said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. “hey, i’ve been meaning to ask if you’d like to come to a jam session this weekend. just a few of us hanging out and playing some music. it could be fun.”

your heart skipped a beat. “that sounds awesome. i’d love to.”

“great,” beomgyu said, his smile widening. “i’ll text you the details.”

as the week went on, you found yourself looking forward to the jam session with increasing anticipation. the way beomgyu interacted with you made you feel special, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more behind his actions.

the jam session arrived, and it was as laid-back and enjoyable as you had hoped. you found yourself immersed in the music, with beomgyu often glancing over at you with a smile that made your heart flutter. during a break, as you all sat around with drinks and snacks, beomgyu casually asked, “so, what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to try musically but haven’t had the chance to yet?”

you thought for a moment. “i’ve always wanted to experiment with producing my own tracks. it seems like a fun way to explore different sounds and styles.”

“that’s cool,” beomgyu said, nodding thoughtfully. “i’ve done a bit of that myself. if you ever want to collaborate or need any tips, just let me know. i’d be happy to help.”

“thanks,” you said, feeling a rush of excitement. “i might take you up on that.”

the evening ended on a high note, with everyone in good spirits and the music flowing effortlessly. as you said your goodbyes, beomgyu lingered a bit longer, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart race.

“it was really great having you there tonight,” he said, his voice soft. “i hope we can do it again soon.”

“me too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “i had a lot of fun.”

“awesome,” beomgyu said with a smile. “i’ll see you at practice.”

as you walked home, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting between you and beomgyu. his attention and the personal nature of your conversations left you both exhilarated and curious about where things might lead.

one afternoon, after a particularly intense practice, beomgyu approached you with a small, hesitant smile. “hey, do you have a minute?”

you nodded, feeling a flutter of anticipation. “sure, what’s up?”

he led you to a quieter corner of the studio, away from the others. “i was thinking,” he began, his voice slightly uncertain, “that maybe we could work on a new song together. just the two of us.”

you felt a rush of excitement mixed with apprehension. “m-me? i mean, yeah, w-we could!”

as you worked on the song together, the atmosphere between you shifted. there were moments when your hands brushed, your eyes meeting in shared understanding. beomgyu’s smiles became more frequent, and his laughter seemed to come more easily around you. it was clear that he enjoyed your company and valued your input, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more behind his gestures.

one evening, as you and beomgyu took a break from working on the song, he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “you know,” he said softly, “i’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. you’ve got this way of making everything seem... better.”

you were taken aback, your breath catching in your throat. “thanks, beomgyu. i’ve enjoyed working with you too.”

his gaze lingered, and you could feel the tension in the air. there was a moment of silence before he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’m glad you’re here.”

your internal conflict grew more pronounced as these interactions continued. you started to realize that your feelings for beomgyu were deepening, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore them. you found yourself torn between your desire to support chaeyoung and your own growing affection for him.

one evening, as you and chaeyoung were leaving the studio, she turned to you with a hopeful smile. “so, how do you think things are going with beomgyu?”

you hesitated, unsure how to answer. “he’s been really great. we’ve been working on some new music together, and it’s been... good.”

chaeyoung’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “i knew you’d get along! i’m so glad. do you think he likes me?”

you swallowed hard, the weight of your promise to chaeyoung heavy on your shoulders. “i’m sure he does. he seems to appreciate everything you’ve done for him.”

as you walked away, you felt a deep sense of conflict. the more time you spent with beomgyu, the more your own feelings grew. but you had made a promise to chaeyoung, and the thought of betraying that promise weighed heavily on you.

it was becoming increasingly clear that this situation would be more complicated than you had anticipated. your growing affection for beomgyu and your loyalty to chaeyoung were pulling you in different directions, leaving you to grapple with the tangled emotions that had become an inescapable part of your life.

the band had just wrapped up a particularly intense practice session. the studio, once alive with vibrant energy and the hum of instruments, now felt eerily still and heavy. sweat beaded on your brow as you put away your guitar, your fingers still tingling from the final, emotionally charged chords. the song you’d been working on was deeply emotional, its raw lyrics and haunting melody leaving everyone exhausted yet exhilarated. the last note seemed to linger in the air like a whisper of shared sentiment, an echo of the vulnerability and connection you all had just experienced.

as you wiped your face with a towel, you glanced around the studio and noticed beomgyu watching you from across the room. his usual playful demeanor was replaced by something more intense, almost somber. his eyes, usually bright and mischievous, were now soft and contemplative, their gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

beomgyu approached you as the band members began to pack up, their casual chatter and the clatter of equipment creating a backdrop of normalcy. “you were incredible tonight,” he said, his voice low and almost lost in the noise of the studio. the sincerity in his tone made your heart skip a beat. his eyes held a softness you hadn’t seen before, making it hard to catch your breath.

“thanks, beomgyu,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure. your voice came out softer than you intended, almost betraying the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

the air between you was thick with unspoken words, each of you caught in a delicate dance of emotion. the studio, once a lively hub of activity, now felt like a small, enclosed space where every glance and gesture seemed amplified. as the others began to leave, their conversations fading into the background, beomgyu’s eyes remained locked on yours.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice carrying a weight of unspoken urgency.

you nodded, your heart pounding as you led him to a quieter corner of the studio. the silence that followed was almost unbearable, filled with the lingering echoes of your previous song. the room seemed to close in around you, the weight of anticipation pressing down on you both. beomgyu’s gaze was unwavering, a mix of vulnerability and resolve that made your own feelings swell.

“w-what do you wanna talk about?” you could feel the tension in the air, thick and charged, as beomgyu took a step closer. his eyes searched yours, seeking something that neither of you could quite name. suddenly, he leaned in, and his lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and probing, as if he were trying to convey everything he felt in that single, fleeting moment. it was a kiss filled with longing, confusion, and an unspoken plea for clarity. the contact was gentle yet electrifying, an exploration of something deeply felt but hard to articulate.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours, asking questions without words. you could see the hope and fear reflected in them, a mirror to your own tumultuous feelings. the silence stretched between you, each of you grappling with the weight of the moment.

“beomgyu...” you began, your voice trembling despite your attempt at calmness. “i can’t, we can’t.”

his brow furrowed in confusion and hurt. “why?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. the pain in his eyes was palpable, and it made your heart ache even more.

“we shouldn’t,” you replied, each word feeling like a weighty anchor dragging you down. the finality in your voice was almost a physical force, pushing him away. the room seemed to contract around you, intensifying the emotional distance that had suddenly opened up between you.

beomgyu’s expression shifted from confusion to hurt, and he took a step back, his shoulders slumping slightly. “i... i thought...”

without waiting for a response, you turned and fled the studio. the dim light of the corridor felt cold against the warmth of the emotions you were trying to escape. your heart pounded in your chest, each step away from him a painful reminder of the feelings you couldn’t fully confront. the echoes of your last moments with beomgyu seemed to follow you, a haunting reminder of what had just transpired.

as you reached the outside, the cool night air did little to calm the storm within you. you leaned against the wall, trying to steady your breathing, but the image of beomgyu’s hopeful eyes lingered in your mind, a painful reminder of what you had just denied.

the next few days were a blur of avoidance and reflection. you found yourself retreating from the band, your absence a noticeable gap in the group's dynamic. rehearsals felt awkward without your presence, the energy of the room slightly diminished. your decision to distance yourself from beomgyu and the band was driven by a chaotic swirl of emotions, leaving you feeling paralyzed and uncertain.

you spent long hours alone, grappling with the confusion and guilt that had taken over your thoughts. the warmth of beomgyu's kiss replayed in your mind, contrasting sharply with the clarity of your decision to pull away. every time you tried to rationalize your feelings, you found yourself trapped in a loop of doubt and self-recrimination.

your avoidance of the band was evident. when kai called you, his voice laced with concern, you made excuses. “i’m just swamped with assignments,” you said one evening, though the truth was far more complex and painful. “i need to catch up on some studying.”

kai’s voice softened, but you could hear the disappointment and worry. “you’ve been MIA for a while. we miss you. is everything okay?”

you hesitated, feeling the weight of her concern pressing down on you. “yeah, just... a lot going on. i’ll be back soon. promise.”

every encounter with beomgyu was now fraught with tension and awkwardness. when you accidentally ran into him in the hallway, you avoided eye contact, your heart racing as you mumbled a quick, “sorry, gotta run.” his puzzled expression was a sharp reminder of the unresolved feelings you were trying to escape.

one day, as you walked past the studio, you could hear the band inside, laughing and playing their instruments. the familiar sounds only served to deepen the ache in your chest. you paused for a moment, fighting the urge to open the door and join them, but the thought of facing beomgyu made your anxiety spike. instead, you turned on your heel and walked away, your footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

in a moment of weakness, you sought solace in a quiet coffee shop near campus. the café’s soft lighting and mellow music provided a temporary refuge from the turmoil inside you. as you sipped your coffee, you found yourself lost in thought, staring blankly at the steaming cup in front of you. the barista’s cheery greeting when he brought your order seemed to jar you from your reverie.

“everything alright?” he asked, noticing the pensive look on your face.

you forced a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “yeah, just... thinking things over.”

as you sat there, your phone buzzed with a message from taehyun. [hey, we’re meeting at our favorite diner tonight. we haven’t seen you in ages. please come.]

you stared at the message, your emotions a turbulent mix of guilt and longing. you knew the band was trying to reach out, and taehyun’s request made you feel even more isolated. you typed a quick reply. [i’m sorry, can’t make it tonight. maybe next time.]

later that evening, you walked aimlessly around campus, trying to clear your mind. the night air was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions you were navigating. you found yourself near the band’s usual practice spot, where the faint strains of music could still be heard through the closed door. the sound was like a beacon, pulling you in, but you resisted the urge to go inside.

instead, you leaned against a nearby wall, staring at the ground, and tried to silence the conflicting thoughts racing through your mind. you missed the time where you bond, the music, and most of all, the connection you felt with beomgyu. but the guilt over your decisions and the fear of complicating things further held you back.

as you stood there, lost in thought, you heard footsteps approaching. you glanced up to see beomgyu and a couple of the other band members walking toward the practice space. beomgyu’s eyes met yours for a fleeting moment, and you saw a flicker of recognition and sadness in his gaze. you quickly averted your eyes and pushed off the wall, heading in the opposite direction. the weight of his gaze lingered on you, a painful reminder of the unresolved feelings and the barrier you had built between yourselves.

the next few days continued in this pattern of avoidance and reflection. you tried to immerse yourself in other activities—studying, hanging out with friends, and even joining a new club—to distract yourself from the growing rift between you and the band. but no matter how hard you tried, the pull of your unresolved feelings and the ache of missing the band’s presence remained ever-present.

you avoided the band’s practices, your absence becoming a topic of concern and whispers among the members. chaeyoung tried to reach out, but you deflected her inquiries with vague responses, unable to explain the complexity of what you were going through. the weight of your decisions and the growing distance between you and those you cared about only seemed to deepen with each passing day.

chaeyoung, on the other hand, continued her efforts to get closer to beomgyu. she seemed determined to pursue him, and you found yourself reluctantly setting up more opportunities for them to spend time together while you tried your best to ditch practices and avoid them, beomgyu to be exact. each one a painful reminder of your own conflicted heart.

the tension between you and chaeyoung suddenly grew, the strain becoming increasingly visible. her enthusiasm for beomgyu seemed to highlight the awkwardness between you two. one evening, after an especially intense practice, you returned to the band. the absence of your usual presence had left a noticeable void, and the atmosphere was tinged with unresolved emotions.

beomgyu, noticing your arrival, tried to catch you alone. his face was a mix of concern and frustration, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more intense. “why have you been avoiding me?” he demanded, his voice carrying a weight of unspoken frustration. “and why are you setting me up with chaeyoung when you clearly know how i feel about you?”

his words hit you like a tidal wave, the force of his emotions crashing into your already turbulent heart. you were taken aback, stammering as you struggled to find the right response amidst the swirling chaos of your feelings. “i... i just needed some time,” you said, your voice cracking under the strain. “i don’t know what to do.”

beomgyu’s eyes softened, but his frustration remained. “what do you mean, you don’t know what to do? you’ve been avoiding me for days, and every time i try to talk to you, you shut me out. and now you’re pushing me toward chaeyoung? do you even realize how confusing this is?”

the words were like daggers, each one cutting deeper into the wound you’d been trying to hide. “it’s not that simple,” you said, your voice trembling. “i didn’t mean to lead anyone on. i’m just... i’m just trying to figure things out.”

before you could finish, chaeyoung, who had been lingering just outside the practice room, overheard the exchange. her face was a mix of hurt and anger as she stormed in, her eyes blazing with a mix of betrayal and indignation. “so this is what’s been going on?” she demanded, her voice echoing with pain. “you knew all along, didn’t you? and yet you kept pushing me toward beomgyu!”

you turned to face her, your heart breaking at the sight of her wounded expression. “chaeyoung, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

chaeyoung’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears, her disappointment palpable. “you should’ve told me sooner instead of making me look like a fool! i thought we were friends. i didn’t know when it started, but now i do. you’ve put me in a horrible position.”

“i don’t even know when it started,” you admitted, your own tears spilling over. “i didn’t mean to keep it from you. i just... i didn’t know how to handle it.”

chaeyoung’s expression softened slightly, though the hurt in her eyes was still clear. “you know that i treasure you so much! i can live without him, but you... i’m disappointed.” you tried to hold her hand but she refuse it by pushing your hand away.

chaeyoung shook her head, her expression a mix of sadness and resolve. “i need some space,” she said, her voice shaking. “i can’t do this right now.”

as chaeyoung turned to leave, you felt a pang of guilt and helplessness. “please, chaeyoung, let’s talk later. i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you called after her, but she didn’t stop.

the room felt heavy with unresolved emotions as chaeyoung walked out, leaving you and beomgyu standing in the aftermath of the confrontation. you watched her leave, feeling a deep sense of regret and sorrow.

stepping out of the practice room, you almost collided with chaeyoung, who was standing just outside the door, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. your eyes met hers, and for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened seemed to hang between you.

“chaeyoung, wait,” you started, but she held up a hand, stopping you in your tracks.

“i need to be alone,” she said softly, her voice breaking. “just... stay away from me for now.”

you watched her walk away, your heart aching as the door closed behind her. the confrontation had left you feeling empty and lost, with the weight of your actions and their consequences pressing heavily on your shoulders. the path forward seemed unclear, and the pain of seeing both chaeyoung and beomgyu hurt by your choices was almost too much to bear.

the confrontation left you feeling bare and overwhelmed, as if the weight of your choices was pressing down on you. you were torn between listening to your mind, which urged you to stay away from the complications, and following your heart, despite the potential for more chaos. each option felt heavy with its own consequences, making the decision feel almost too much to bear.

on a painfully monday morning, thanks to your bothered sleep and blood-shot eyes from crying to sleep, yeonjun planned a meeting announcing the upcoming performance the band is going to be at, it’s for the school festival which is three weeks from now. 

the days leading up to the big performance were a whirlwind of tension and emotional strain. the band’s rehearsals became increasingly fraught with unspoken conflicts. you and beomgyu found yourselves in the same space, but the atmosphere was thick with unresolved feelings. each practice felt like a tightrope walk between maintaining professionalism and confronting the personal problems between you.

you struggled to focus on the music. every note seemed to echo your inner confusion. the mere presence of beomgyu was a constant reminder of the kiss and the subsequent fallout. whenever practice ended, you would hastily pack up your things and slip out of the room before beomgyu had a chance to approach you. your heart raced as you made your way for the exit, desperate to escape the weight of the situation.

one evening, after an intense rehearsal, you were packing up your guitar when you felt beomgyu’s presence behind you. he cleared his throat, trying to get your attention. “hey, can we talk for a second?”

you stiffened, keeping your back turned. “i’m really sorry, beomgyu. i have to go.”

before he could respond, you grabbed your bag and quickly made your way to the door. you could hear his frustrated sigh as you exited the studio. you barely made it out into the hallway before you broke into a brisk walk, trying to put as much distance between you and the uncomfortable conversation.

the following day, during another practice, you could feel beomgyu’s gaze on you. his attempts to catch your eye were evident as he tried to gauge your mood. at one point, he caught up with you in the break room where you were refilling your water bottle.

“i don’t understand why you’re avoiding me,” beomgyu said, his voice filled with frustration. “we need to talk about what happened.”

you forced a tight smile, avoiding his eyes. “i know. but not right now. i really need to focus on the music.”

beomgyu’s expression hardened. “this isn’t just about the music anymore. it’s about us. you can’t keep running away.”

before he could say more, you turned and hurried back to the practice room, your heart pounding in your chest. you hoped that by diving back into the music, you could drown out the guilt and confusion that plagued you.

a few days later, after an exhausting rehearsal, you were again at the edge of the studio, packing up your gear. beomgyu approached you once more, his tone softer but still filled with a pleading urgency. “please, can we at least talk for a few minutes? it’s really important.”

you avoided his gaze, focusing intently on zipping up your bag. “i’m really tired, beomgyu. maybe another time?”

“we’ve been saying ‘another time’ for days,” he said, his voice rising slightly in frustration. “we can’t keep doing this.”

you didn’t answer, quickly slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking briskly toward the exit. you heard his footsteps behind you, but you didn’t slow down. the practice room door closed behind you with a decisive thud, leaving you alone in the hallway as you made your way out of the building, your breath coming in ragged bursts.

the tension reached a breaking point during a late-night practice session. as soon as the final chord was struck and the last note faded, you grabbed your things and tried to make another hasty exit. but beomgyu was waiting for you, his face set in a determined expression.

“this is getting ridiculous,” he said, stepping in front of the door as you tried to leave. “you can’t keep avoiding me forever.”

your pulse quickened, and you looked at him with a mix of frustration and sadness. “i don’t have the energy for this right now, beomgyu. just... let me go.”

“i can’t do that,” he said, his voice softer now. “we need to sort this out. it’s affecting the band, and it’s affecting us.”

you sighed, feeling the weight of his words. “i know. but every time we talk, it feels like it only makes things worse. is there even us?”

you saw how his emotion changed, his eyes became more soft with his eyebrows furrowed, and it almost crushed your heart into pieces. “t-then let’s just talk,” he said, stepping closer. “no pressure, just... honestly.”

you took a deep breath, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “i can’t. not yet. i’m still figuring things out.”

beomgyu’s face softened with concern. “please, don’t shut me out. i want to understand.”

with a heavy heart, you pushed past him and walked out of the studio. the cool night air hit your face as you hurried away, your mind a tangled mess of emotions. the sight of beomgyu standing alone in the doorway, his expression a mix of frustration and heartbreak, stayed with you long after you had left the building.

chaeyoung, meanwhile, had been distant and cold. the once easy trust of friendship between you had dissolved into a frosty silence. she avoided eye contact and kept conversations to a minimum, her demeanor a stark contrast to the warmth she had once shown. living together only added to the strain. each night, after band practice, you found yourself lingering on the school grounds until late, just to avoid the awkwardness of returning home to an increasingly strained atmosphere. the nights seemed endless as you waited for the right moment to return home, praying that somehow, things would resolve themselves.

one particularly chilly evening, around 9 pm, you were sitting alone on a bench near the school grounds. the practice had ended hours ago, and you were waiting for the right moment to head home, dreading the silent, uncomfortable atmosphere that awaited you. the dim streetlights cast long shadows on the deserted grounds, mirroring the isolation you felt.

you sighed deeply, your breath visible in the cold air. the empty grounds were a reflection of your emotional state—silent and still, waiting for something to change. you glanced at your watch, wishing time would move faster so you could escape the lingering anxiety.

as you sat lost in thought, yeonjun approached, his footsteps crunching on the gravel. he looked at you with a mix of concern and curiosity. “you’re still here?” he asked, taking a seat beside you without waiting for an invitation.

you shrugged, trying to mask your discomfort. “just needed some time to clear my head.”

yeonjun studied you for a moment, then spoke, his voice gentle but firm. “you know, this awkwardness between you and beomgyu is starting to affect the band. everyone can feel it, and it’s not just about the performance anymore.”

you sighed, feeling the weight of his words. “i know. i just... don’t know how to fix it.”

“maybe you should be true to yourself for once,” yeonjun suggested. “think about why you’re avoiding him. and don’t forget about chaeyoung. you two need to talk things through.”

his advice, though simple, resonated deeply. you nodded, taking his words to heart. “thanks, yeonjun. i’ll think about it.”

that night, determined to make amends, you decided to confront the situation head-on. after practice the next day, you went to a nearby store and bought two large bowls of chaeyoung’s favorite ramen. when you arrived home, the smell of the ramen filled the small apartment.

chaeyoung was sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through her phone with a detached air. you placed the ramen on the table and took a deep breath. “i thought you might like this,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“what are you doing here.” she said, not even glancing towards you.

“i figured we have to talk..” you whispered, you voice breaking through each word.

chaeyoung looked up, her expression softening slightly as she took in the gesture. “make sure that it’s worth my time,” she said coldly, but there was a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

you sat down across from her, trying to maintain a hopeful smile. “i know things have been rough between us. i’m sorry for not being honest with you sooner.”

chaeyoung’s eyes softened as she stirred the ramen. “you know, i can deal with a broken heart. i’ve been through it before. what i can’t handle is losing you as a friend.”

the sincerity in her voice cut through your anxiety. “i didn’t want to hurt you. i was just trying to figure things out.”

chaeyoung sighed, her eyes meeting yours with a mixture of sadness and understanding. “i think you and beomgyu actually look good together. maybe you should give each other a try. i can handle another heartbreak, but losing you would be too much.”

the conversation opened the floodgates of emotion. you realized that chaeyoung valued your friendship above all else, and her willingness to support you despite the pain spoke volumes. you reached across the table and took her hand, the gesture a silent apology and an offer of reconciliation.

“that means a lot, chaeyoung,” you said softly. “thank you for being understanding.”

chaeyoung gave you a small, relieved smile. “i’m glad we talked. just... try not to let things get so complicated next time, okay?”

“i’ll do my best,” you promised, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders.

as the night wore on, the two of you found yourselves curled up together on your shared bed. the comforting warmth of her presence was a balm to your frayed nerves. you talked and laughed, reminiscing about old times, and the tension between you dissipated with each shared memory and whispered confession. it was a moment of healing, the rekindling of a cherished friendship that had weathered the storm.

one week before the performance, you began to feel a sense of relief. the conversations with yeonjun and chaeyoung had lifted a heavy burden, and you were attending band practices with renewed focus. though the anxiety about beomgyu still lingered, you were determined to sort through your feelings and confront whatever was next.

the last evening before the big performance, the practice session went smoothly. the room was filled with the familiar hum of instruments and the rhythm of music. throughout the practice, you and beomgyu exchanged furtive glances, a mix of unspoken emotions passing between you. the atmosphere was charged, but neither of you made the first move to bridge the gap.

as practice concluded, you told everyone you’d be quick and just needed to grab some water. when you returned to the band room, it was nearly empty. only yeonjun and taehyun remained, engaged in a low-key conversation. your heart sank as you realized beomgyu was nowhere to be seen.

as you picked up your bag, a folded piece of paper fell to the floor. you bent down and retrieved it, noticing a guitar pick tucked inside. unfolding the note, you saw beomgyu’s handwriting:

“i know you won’t listen to me, but i hope you will read my letters at least. —beomgyu”

confused, you glanced around, searching for beomgyu, despite know he was already gone. taehyun, observing your puzzled expression, spoke up. “i think there’s another note in your bag. beomgyu put a notebook there too.”

curiosity and worry surged through you, prompting you to dig through your bag. you discovered a notebook, its pages filled with beomgyu’s thoughts. the first entry was raw and revealing:

“i remember the first time i really noticed you. you were playing that red guitar of yours, your hair a bit messy, like you had just rolled out of bed. heheh (i actually think it looks good on you) there was something about the way you got lost in your music, so focused, so at ease with yourself. i couldn’t stop watching. i didn’t want to admit it, but that’s when i started paying attention.”

the next few entries showed beomgyu’s growing awareness of his feelings:

“i started finding excuses to be around you more. the way you’d smile after hitting a tricky chord, or how you’d cheer me on during my solos—it all started to matter a lot. i thought it was just a phase (lol), but the more i got to know you, the more it felt like something real.”

“then we had that night—the kiss. it was a mistake, or at least that’s what i tried to convince myself. but deep down, it felt like the start of something confusing and complicated. i wanted to fix things, but every time i tried, it seemed like i only made things worse.”

“now, with the performance coming up, i’m feeling this weight. i don’t know if we’ll have another chance to sort things out. it’s been hard trying to figure out how to make things right before we all move on. i just hope we can talk before it’s too late.”

your heart raced as you flipped to the last page. there, you found a sketch of a girl holding a red guitar. it was you, drawn with such detail and tenderness that it took your breath away. next to the sketch were lyrics:

“through the band, i discovered you i’m grateful for the music you appeared so unexpectedly with your red guitar in my studio and as you sang, i was instantly captivated i’ll write a song with you as its title the lyrics may not be ready but the melody comes first you’re the one i’ve been waiting for i’m ready to be genuine opening the door, i once believed, i couldn’t bear it any longer” - fuck, is it too cheesy? i don’t know… i just miss you.

the lyrics were written multiple times, with some lines crossed out and rewritten, showing how much thought beomgyu had put into them. the repeated attempts, the crossed-out words—everything spoke of his deep desire to get it right.

your heart thumped wildly in your chest as you absorbed the significance of his words and the heartfelt sentiment behind the song. tears welled in your eyes as you closed the notebook and looked at yeonjun and taehyun.

“where is he?” you asked, your voice trembling. “beomgyu, where is he?”

“who?” taehyun asked, clearly confused.

“beomgyu! where did he go?” you repeated, your urgency growing as tears began to spill.

“i believe he went home already,” yeonjun said.

“you can try to catch him; he’s a slow walker—” taehyun began, but before he could finish, you had already shoved the notebook back into your bag, grabbed your things, and bolted out of the room.

you raced through the dimly lit corridors, your breath coming in ragged gasps. you sprinted through the campus grounds, desperately searching for beomgyu. each second felt like an eternity as you scanned the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

you ran to the usual places you thought he might be—the old practice rooms, the quiet spots near the campus park—but he was nowhere to be found. the night air was cool against your flushed face, but the chill did little to cool the fire in your chest.

your footsteps echoed in the empty streets, the rhythmic thud a reminder of your growing desperation. you crouched on the ground, the cold seeping through your clothes as you struggled to catch your breath. the thought of not having the chance to tell him about your feelings, of him giving you the letter as a closure to move on, weighed heavily on you. tears streamed down your face as you walked home, feeling utterly defeated.

when you finally arrived home, the weight of the night’s events seemed to settle heavily on your shoulders. the house was quiet, the kind of quiet that amplified every little noise and seemed to echo your disheartened thoughts. the door creaked open, and as you stepped inside, the emptiness of the space felt almost suffocating.

chaeyoung was waiting for you. she had sensed your distress even before you had the chance to say anything. without a word, she pulled you into a warm, comforting hug. her arms wrapped around you tightly, a silent gesture of support and understanding. you felt the warmth of her body, her comforting presence dissolving the tension that had built up inside you throughout the evening.

“hey,” she whispered softly, her voice a gentle balm to your aching heart. “it’s gonna be okay.”

you buried your face in her shoulder, the tears you’d been holding back finally breaking free. chaeyoung’s soothing words, combined with her embrace, were a small island of calm in the storm of emotions you were experiencing. the comfort she offered was genuine, and it helped to remind you that you didn’t have to face this alone.

chaeyoung held you for a long moment, allowing you to cry it out. her hand gently stroked your back, a rhythmic reassurance that she was there for you. “it’s alright,” she murmured, “we’ll figure it out. just breathe.”

the next morning, the day of the big performance, you woke up with a tangled mess of thoughts. the weight of the previous night pressed heavily on your mind, and the comfort of your bed felt like an irresistible temptation. you lay there, tangled in blankets, every fiber of your being urging you to stay in this cocoon of warmth and forget about everything.

but then chaeyoung’s voice cut through the haze of your thoughts, sharp and clear. “hey,” she said firmly, her voice breaking through the fog of indecision. “if this is the last time you’re going to see him, then fuck that and go! look at him all you can, don’t waste the chance. come on, i didn’t raise you like that.”

her words were a jolt, a wake-up call that pulled you from the comfort of denial and into the reality of the situation. chaeyoung’s unwavering resolve and concern for you pierced through your indecision, and you knew she was right. if this was the final chance to confront your feelings, you couldn’t waste it. you needed to be brave, even if it felt terrifying.

when you arrived at the venue for the final rehearsal, the atmosphere was charged with tension. the anticipation of the upcoming performance was palpable, but there was an undercurrent of unease that seemed to hover in the air. you glanced around the room, expecting to see the familiar faces of your bandmates, but there were only three of them present.

the absence of one crucial member was glaringly obvious. “where’s beomgyu?” you asked, your voice betraying your anxiety. the concern was evident in your tone, and your eyes scanned the room for any sign of him.

yeonjun looked up from where he was adjusting his equipment, his brow furrowed in frustration. “he’s not responding to our texts,” he explained. “so, we’ll have soobin as his proxy for now.”

“yeah, he’ll be late i guess,” kai added, trying to sound reassuring despite the clear concern in his voice. “we’re not sure what’s going on with him.”

you nodded, trying to push aside the worry gnawing at you. the rehearsal proceeded, but the empty space where beomgyu should have been felt like a void that you couldn’t ignore.

the rehearsal ended, and you found yourself backstage, preparing for your turn on stage. you sat on a bench, your fingers fidgeting with the edges of your clothing, the absence of beomgyu weighing heavily on your mind. the backstage area was bustling with activity, but your focus was entirely on the empty spot where he should have been.

the door to the backstage area swung open with a suddenness that made you look up. the familiar chorus of greetings and exclamations filled the space, but your attention was solely on the figure who had just entered. beomgyu stood in the doorway, his usual delicate eyes now showing a complex mix of emotions that you couldn’t quite interpret. his hair was styled the same as always, framing his face, but today it seemed as though he was carrying an invisible weight.

he was dressed in a black cardigan over a white polo, paired with a black tie, torn black shorts, and his signature chucky shoes. his guitar was slung casually over his shoulder, but it was clear that he was focused on something more than just the instrument.

the sight of him stirred a flurry of emotions inside you—hope, confusion, anxiety. the connection between you seemed visible, even though the tension in the air was almost tangible. beomgyu’s eyes locked onto yours for a moment, and it felt as though time itself had momentarily stopped.

the room seemed to hold its breath as the two of you stared at each other. for a fleeting instant, it felt as if everything else had faded away, leaving just the two of you and the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you.

beomgyu’s heart raced when he walked into the room, each step feeling heavier than the last. the sleepless night had left him utterly drained, and the weight of his apprehensions pressed down on him with every beat of his heart. he had spent hours pouring his feelings into the notebook, hoping it would be enough to bridge the gap between you. now, the fear that his words had fallen on deaf ears gnawed at him. the sight of you, barely meeting his gaze, made that fear even more tangible.

“sorry i’m late,” he said, his voice lacking its usual warmth and confidence. “i had trouble sleeping last night. i hope i didn’t mess things up too badly.”

hearing his words only made your heart ache more. was he thinking about you, too? the vulnerability in his voice made you wonder if he was struggling with his own feelings. but before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, the sound coordinator knocked on the door. “hey, you’re up next!” he called, breaking the moment.

the rush of adrenaline surged through you as you stood up, gripping your red guitar tightly. you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. this was it. you glanced over at beomgyu, who was talking to yeonjun, possibly explaining his late arrival.

“is everything okay with you?” yeonjun asked beomgyu, his tone laced with concern. “we’ve got just a bit of time before you go on.”

beomgyu nodded, though his expression was troubled. “yeah, just… needed to get my head straight. thanks for covering for me.”

you tried to push your swirling thoughts aside, focusing on the performance ahead. backstage, the crew hurriedly prepared the equipment, adjusting microphones and checking amplifiers. you spotted chaeyoung in the audience, her encouraging smile offering a small boost of confidence. you could see her giving you a thumbs-up, and it made you feel a bit more grounded.

as you took your place on stage, you could feel beomgyu’s eyes on you, even as you busied yourself with setting up your gear. his presence was almost palpable, adding to your already heightened nerves.

the introduction song started, the energetic beat filling the venue. the crowd’s applause and cheers created a vibrant atmosphere. yeonjun stepped up to the mic, his voice clear and upbeat as he began introducing the band members.

the setlist progressed smoothly, each song blending seamlessly into the next with transitions that kept the crowd energized. the band’s performance was electric, and the audience’s enthusiasm was noticeable. but as the performance reached the last few songs, yeonjun announce that there will be last two song on the list, you noticed something odd. there was a mix-up in the setlist. you were sure that only one song was left—the one you and beomgyu had written together.

but before you even get lost on your mind the drum sticks signaled the start of the final song, your thoughts snapped back to the stage. kai had stopped playing the keyboard and held the mic ready, his expression serious yet excited.

the lyrics began to flow through the venue, each word resonating deeply within you:

unnoticed, the noises around us fade away, is it obvious that there's something one of us wants to admit? as time passes, we don't realize that only we remain here. our eyes meet, yearning to say, you take my heart to the heavens, giving me a joy that feels true. there's nothing more to seek; you are mine, and i am yours, and here we lose ourselves. time has flown by, and we haven't even noticed that only we remain. our eyes meet, yearning to say, you take my heart to the heavens, giving me a joy that feels true. there's nothing more to seek; you are mine, and i am yours, and here we lose ourselves. we lose ourselves in each other. we lose ourselves in each other.

as kai sang, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from beomgyu. the spotlight cast soft shadows on his face, highlighting the familiar contours you had come to know so well. each lyric of the song seemed to resonate with memories of your time together, drawing you into a whirlpool of recollections.

you remembered those late-night practice sessions, the room filled with the soft strum of guitars and the clinking of coffee cups. you and beomgyu would lose track of time, laughing over missed notes and exchanging knowing glances. one night, as the clock ticked past midnight, beomgyu had paused his playing and looked over at you.

“why do we always end up here?” he’d asked, a smile tugging at his lips. “it’s like our own little world.” you’d grinned, nodding in agreement. “maybe it’s because we can just be ourselves here. no need to pretend.”

you thought about the meals you’d shared after exhausting rehearsals, grabbing quick bites from a local convenience store. you’d both been too tired to care about anything more than satisfying your hunger, but those moments had been filled with genuine conversation and laughter.

“remember that time we tried to make our own ramen?” beomgyu had said, chuckling as he sipped his cup noodles. “we thought it would be a culinary masterpiece.”

you had laughed, shaking your head. “more like a disaster in a cup.”

and those small, intimate moments when it was just the two of you. Like that one afternoon in the practice room when you had both been too tired to play. you’d ended up sprawled on the floor, talking about everything and nothing.

“sometime i think,” beomgyu had mused, “that we don’t need to say much to understand each other. it’s like we already know what the other is thinking.”

“yeah,” you’d replied, “sometimes silence speaks louder than words.”

now, as kai’s voice wrapped around the final lines of the song, you felt a wave of resolve wash over you. the lyrics spoke of that intangible bond, the silent connection that defied explanation.

you couldn’t ignore these feelings any longer. the song’s message, combined with your shared experiences, had made your decision clear. you were going to confess your feelings to beomgyu, no matter how terrifying it felt. you tightened your grip on your guitar, your heart pounding in your chest. it was now or never.

when the final chord resonated through the venue and the crowd erupted into cheers, the noise seemed to amplify the storm inside you. yeonjun stepped up to the mic, his voice full of energy.

“this next song was a collaboration between our very own beomgyu and y/n,” he announced, a proud smile on his face. “it’s about the things we can’t always put into words, the unspoken connection that binds two people together. it’s about finding a way to express what words alone can’t capture.”

the spotlight shifted to you and beomgyu, illuminating the space between you. in that brief moment, your eyes met, and a wave of fear and excitement washed over you. beomgyu’s gaze was intense, filled with a mix of curiosity and something you couldn’t quite place.

you took a deep breath, your resolve hardening. this was your chance to be honest, to put everything on the line. you were going to confess your feelings to beomgyu, no matter what.

after the last song, the lights in the auditorium abruptly cut off, plunging the space into darkness. a murmur of confusion swept through the crowd as you fumbled to make out shapes in the dimness. the auditorium, being a closed area, seemed to amplify the darkness. but just as quickly as the lights had gone out, they flickered back on, casting a bright, almost blinding light over the stage.

you blinked, adjusting to the sudden brightness. and there, standing in the middle of the stage, was beomgyu. he was wearing taehyun’s guitar and adjusting the standing mic with a mixture of nervousness and determination. he cleared his throat, his voice resonating through the microphone.

“hello, i’m beomgyu,” he began, his tone holding a rare softness. “the band’s bassist. i don’t sing a lot on sets,” he paused, a shy chuckle escaping him as he rubbed the back of his neck. “i have a special set, uh... for a special someone.”

the words seemed to hang in the air, and you could see his eyes flicker in your direction before he turned back to the crowd. his hands began to strum the guitar, and an unfamiliar melody started to fill the auditorium. it was different from the usual songs he played, and though you’d heard him sing before, this was something deeply personal.

he kept stealing glances at you, his fingers dancing over the strings with a mix of vulnerability and hope. the room seemed to narrow down to just the two of you as he sang the first verse:

“through the band, i discovered you…”

the song's lyrics were hauntingly familiar, echoing the melody from the last page of the notebook. the realization hit you like a wave, and you felt your heart race. the notebook, the lyrics—it was all coming together in this intimate performance.

as he sang, every word seemed to cut through the chaos of your thoughts. the lyrics spoke of unspoken feelings, of discovering something precious through shared moments. the melody wove a story of connection and understanding, each note filled with emotion.

you wiped away the tears that had started cascading down your cheeks. your heart felt like it was being tugged by an invisible force, leading you to move. your feet seemed to act on their own, carrying you toward beomgyu as if guided by the sincerity in his song.

the crowd’s noise faded into the background as you approached him. beomgyu’s eyes locked onto yours as he strummed the final chords, his expression a mix of relief and nervous anticipation. you saw him begin to walk toward you, but before he could close the distance, you ran, your legs propelling you forward in a desperate bid to reach him.

you threw your arms around him in a tight embrace, and in that moment, the world felt like it had stopped. it was just the two of you, standing in the center of the stage, with your hearts speaking louder than any words could.

“it’s the same lyrics…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “the same as what you wrote on the last page…”

beomgyu’s breath was warm against your forehead. “you read it…” he said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and vulnerability.

“of course i did,” you replied, your forehead resting against his. his eyes softened, and before he could say another word, you leaned in and captured his lips with yours. the kiss was a fusion of all the feelings you had kept bottled up, a silent confession that needed no words.

when you finally pulled back, breathless, beomgyu’s cheeks were flushed a deep red. “t-there are people watching…” he whispered, his voice laced with embarrassment.

the realization hit you like a splash of cold water. the crowd’s cheers and laughter had reached a crescendo, and your bandmates were all staring at you with amused expressions.

“oh, fuck it,” you said, a determined smile spreading across your face. you grabbed beomgyu’s hands tightly, the warmth of his touch grounding you. you looked at him with a mixture of mischief and resolve before starting to run.

the two of you sprinted toward the backstage exit, hand in hand, the noise of the crowd and the teasing laughter of your bandmates fading behind you. as you pulled beomgyu along, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of exhilaration. this was your moment, and no one could take it away from you.

gyo's note: this is by far the longest one i've written, this idea came to my mind when i rewatched the movie 20th century girl and when i tell u i had 2-3 business days of grieving over it and that's when the idea of heartstrings started. it was also heavily inspired with the song MRT and Lia, so if you guys would like to, you can check them out for yourself (it's a good song, and the exact song i used for lyrics part, i just translated it into english) ++ i love me a bassist!beomgyu actually anything that beomgyu does :<< i think i'm smitten you guys (sighs) this note is longer than i expected so i'll end this here by saying that i have a new story idea, a series actually, for yeonjun and soobin yayyy ^^ please like and reblog, it helps my works to have more engagement, and if you made it to this part, thank you so much for reading. you will be loved, xoxo!

✮ 2024 gyozies, all rights reserved.

[savannahsdeath]

hiii i love ur fics ive read them all i ws wondering if you could like do a 18+ with a extremely jealous ellie??

thank you sm ily😭💞and yes ofc i tried my best!!

JEALOUS!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

summary: els didnt like some of the messages she found on your phone..

warnings: 18+!! smut, jealousy(obv), language

writers note: sorry it took me so long to post it😓ive actually written it like one day after you requested but i had already some posts planned and i didnt want to change everything now💔

You came back after a meeting with your co-workers to see your girlfriend waiting for you. As soon as she heard the door open, she leaned on the doorframe of the living room, looking at you with an undefined expression.

"You're late." She mumbled, her voice sounding mad but the way she planted wet little kisses all over your face said otherwise.

Ellie's closeness wasn't just out of greeting, but out of an act of possessiveness and jealousy that you grew accustomed to in the relationship.

You sighed and looked at Ellie for a second, before saying, "Yeah, I'm late. Sorry." You gave her a quick kiss too while looking for your keys. "Meeting ended late." Your voice wasn't as cheery as it usually is.

Ellie then rolled her eyes. "Did you really had to stay that long?" She muttered loudly, trying to hide the jealousy that was so clearly showing.

"It was important." You said, finding your keys and pulling them out of your pockets. You didn't sound upset because it was hard to be upset with Ellie. She was like a little kitten who was possessive and needy at times, but still oh so sweet.

Ellie rolled her eyes again but smiled, and she leaned onto you with her arms wrapped around your waist in a hug. This was where you felt safe and home.

"C'mon," she said softly, "let's go to bed."

You nodded. "I'll just go to the bathroom, 'kay?" You asked, giving her your bag, like you always did after work - she'll lug it upstairs for you.

"Of course, darling." Ellie smiled as she took the bag from you, her expression now fully warm and affectionate. You were lucky to have her, and you knew that.

You went to the bathroom and started to wash your face and brush your teeth, taking a moment to yourself.

After a few minutes, and a good splash of cold water on your face, you exited the bathroom and made your way upstairs. Ellie was waiting for you in the bedroom.

She was doing something on your phone, which didn't surprise you - she was probably just going through your gallery, staring at your pics. You had nothing to hide anyway.

She often did that, smiling widely and mumbling things like 'my wife's so pretty'.

This time, though, she was silent and had a frown on her face.

"Who's Steve?" She asked when she saw you.

"I don't know." You answered honestly. You had no idea who is she talking about, probably a random boy following you.

"You two texted." She passed your phone to you with an opened short conversation. He replied to your story, complimenting you, you thanked him, that's all.

"Yeah, I remember now. What about him?" You lied down next to her, curiously staring at the screen, expecting some more messages to magically appear and explain the situation.

Ellie sat on top of you, playing with the hem of your shirt. "He's hitting on you." She said as she got more bold, now not only fingers but her whole hands sliding up and down your waist.

"I don't know him. He just texted me once." You shrugged, reading the conversation over and over again to find which part made your girlfriend act like that.

"Yeah, and what does his text say?" She smirked, not in her usual innocent way, but in a 'think twice before you answer' way.

You scrolled to his first message and read it out loud. It was simple "stunning💞" in a reply to your story - a photo Ellie took of you at the beach a week ago but you forgot to post it before.

"Exactly. Now, what are you wearing on that pic?" Her smirk widened as she started to undo the button of your jeans.

You didn't pay much attention to her moves, focusing on her orders. "A swimsuit. I mean, we were at th-"

She shushed you, pressing her lips against yours. She pulled away after a good minute, leaving you breathless. She forced the phone, which slipped off of your embrace while she kissed you, back between your fingers.

"Stop explaining yourself or I'll think you actually have something to explain. For now, I'm just asking simple questions. Do I look like I'm mad?" She held your chin with one of her hands, while the other was unbuttoning your formal-looking work shirt.

She really didn't look mad, but you knew it's just her ability to camouflage.

You let out a relieved sigh as soon as you catched your breath. "Oh. Right. Look, it's not a big deal, I told him I'm-"

"Busy. Yeah, I know." She cut you off. "Pretty pathetic excuse."

"What was I supposed to say?" You barely managed to say as she started tracing a path of messy, wet kisses from your neck down your body.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" She laughed and you could feel the vibrations in her breath caused by her sudden outburst on your stomach, right were she stopped to answer you.

You stayed quiet, not wanting to make it worse or seem even dumber in her eyes than you already do, if that's even possible. She noticed your confusion and didn't pressure you to read her mind.

"That you have a girlfriend. That she told you to post it. That she took this pic." She made a pause after every sentence to cling her tongue, followed quickly after with her mouth, to your core, watching your body slightly squirm. You didn't even realize when she arrived that low, and when she took off your underwear, but that wasn't important anymore. "That it was her idea to go to the beach. That she helped you pick your swimsuit. That she saw you in it first..."

"Els... Stop..." You moaned out, feeling jealous of how unbothered she looks while you were already soaking.

"Stop what?" She laughed, sucking on your clit while taking off her rings.

This simple, two-words question, turned out to be more difficult to answer than you'd thought. Actually, what did you had in mind while telling her to stop? Hers 'that she...' calculations? Her hand placement, which had a bruising grip on your thighs? Or her tongue, that had definitely affected you the most, making you drop the phone, screen-down on the bed, and hopefully hold into the bed sheets?

"That's what I thought." She said before you could think of a correct answer.

She had a whole scolding prepared in her mind, but you wasn't honoured to hear it as she had a better plan. Still, she wanted to talk to you through it, watching you do your best to answer or just understand her while she makes you look and feel like a total mess. In order to not leave your cunt hopelessly tremble, right after she took her tongue off of your clit, she pushed two fingers into your entrance.

You gasped, squeezing your thighs together, which made Ellie laugh. It was a normal reaction - her move was unexpected - but your eyes rolling back always got a reaction out of her.

"Back to the topic, want to tell me why you decided saying 'you're busy' will work?" She smirked, her fingers pumping in and out, clenching and unclenching, in a painfully fast and rough way. Her thumb rubbed your clit, replacing her tongue.

"I... If I-'d" You stuttered, taking a deep breath after every letter you managed to say.

"Y-Y...You what?" She mocked your mumbling, her smirk turning into a smile.

Your back arched, making your hips move higher, but Ellie held them down with her free arm. Even though her nails were trimmed short, so she won't have to worry she'll hurt your pretty cunt, you swore you feel them digging into your waist.

"That hurt-s..." You whispered, but you weren't really bothered by it, even though your eyes were starting to get teary.

"Yeah? Don't worry, I'm sure Steve would make it hurt more... if you'd give him a chance, that is. But you didn't and won't." Her free hand let go of your hip, taking your phone and staring at the unlocked screen, clearly thinking or considering something. "I know you're mine and you know that too." She finally concluded, but right before she put the device down, you got a notification.

She mischievously smiled as she saw who's the message from.

"You got yourself a fan." She laughed as she opened your conversation with the reason of her jealous behaviour. "'Still busy?' and a fucking winking emoji. Jesus, that's just embarrasing."

You couldn't help but admire how good her attention span was - one hand making you a whining mess, other typing on your phone, eyes barely looking away from you (only to read his text, she typed hers blindly), mind probably racing with ideas to make him, or you, or both of you, regret your little conversation. She was obviously overreacting, but then again, your profile was full of Ellie and there's no way he missed all the cute posts about her.

"Should I show him how 'stunning' you look right now?" She chuckled and shook her head. "Nah, this view is for me only."

"What d-id you do?" You stuttered, trying to take your phone back, but she placed it out of your reach and aggressively grabbed your wrist.

"I liked it more when you moaned instead of asking questions." And just as she said that, she got faster again, making your cunt tighten even more around her fingers. Even though it may seem she's not paying much attention to how precise she is, she kept violating your sensitive spot, not missing it once.

Your head hit the pillow, leaning back on it and exposing your throat from which many signs of your pleasure came.

She was wondering again, her eyes looking you up and down before finally staying at your face. Her smile faded as she looked at you for a few moments. Then, she picked up your phone and passed it to you, following by simple but stern words; "Block him."

Your hands were shaky, so instead of pressing the block button, you almost accidentally called him a few times.

Ellie's smirk came back as she looked at you obediently fulfill her requests. She knew she could make you do anything she wanted now, but she didn't feel the need to. The only thing she needed was you with her - her only.

She took the mobile from you, whispering soft 'good girl' as she saw you succeed to do what she asked you to.

"Next time, if someone bothers you, just tell me straight away." She patted your cheek, her focus going back to what's her right hand doing.

This boy didn't bother you at all, he was just nice. But you knew what Ellie meant - he bothered her. Without arguing, you silently nodded, knowing this is the last time you posted a swimsuit photo on your account.